The Coming of Kalki

by Poulomi Sanyal

  “We are, I think, in this great hall,” he said pointing to the spot on the map. “And the tunnel should be—”

  He was cut-off by a loud sound outside. “Cars?” he whispered, his heart fluttering with anxiety. Soon there were voices and yelling and then the blood-curdling roar of machine gun fire.

  Shit, he thought. They found us. But how? Were we betrayed?

  Wanda probably had the same thought. If only they could see the faces of the intruders, even from a distance, then they could warp their visions. But it would be too dangerous to go out. Amon stood beside Wanda, his face grim and dark in the pale glow of the flashlight. He quickly turned off the flashlight on his headband and reached his hand out for Wanda’s. Wanda removed it from her head and briskly handed it over. Taking Wanda’s flashlight, he gave it to Wassem who flew off with it through the great hall and out the way they had come in, disappearing quickly from view.

  If they are Egyptian, they won’t kill a peregrine falcon, thought Amon after sending the bird off as a decoy. Once the falcon was out of sight, panic suddenly gripped him with iron jaws. They had walked themselves into a trap. This hall was a dead-end. The only way out was the way Wassem had flown and that is also where their nemesis awaits. The other set of tunnels towards the east could not be reached without tracing their way back the way they came in and passing in front of the entrance where the enemy was now in the offing.

  There were shrill voices outside and shots fired into the air. The mirthless shriek they had heard before must have been the dying breath of the gate-keeper. Amon felt his pulse race. In seconds their end would be upon them. They would be taken prisoner by a faceless enemy that killed for sport and spared no mercy. He could hear Wanda’s rapid breathing nearby but could not see her face. The cavernous room was shrouded in darkness.

  “Over here, over here, I see a flashlight,” a hoarse voice yelled in the distance.

  They fell for the bait, thought Amon. It buys us a few more minutes and delays our doom. But that’s all; or is it? And then he saw it, squinting in the dark, a danger sign in the northwesternmost section of the room. Beyond it, utter darkness. Suddenly recognizing this area from the map he had seen earlier, he fumbled around for Wanda’s arm and grabbing it, made a dash for the spot. Then stopping close to the edge of the enclosed area, he grabbed Wanda around the waist with both arms and lifted her off the ground. He then stepped lightly over the danger sign, landing softly onto a stone block, covered with sand. The block immediately pivoted beneath his feet, revealing a trap-door that slid them downward into an abyss. The trap-door closed above them.

  .

  CHAPTER twenty

  It had been eight days since their arrival in India, and today Nirmala and Alejandro were to travel again to Dwarka. Nirmala waited in the lobby of their hotel in Havelock. Alejandro was going to meet her there. Then they would fly via Delhi to Rajkot and travel by road to Dwarka. Alejandro was convinced that he would find the answers he was seeking at the Dwarkadhish temple; an ancient temple of Krishna, the eighth avatar of Vishnu. So, they were headed there. The ninth incarnation of Vishnu was Buddha, Alejandro had learned, but now they would have to find the tenth. Because this avatar was supposed to be amongst us mortals now and was prophesied to be the messiah of the current day and age.

  Alejandro was late. Nirmala was getting anxious. It was not like Alejandro to be late. He was an early riser. Every morning at five he went for a light jog by the beach, followed by a quick swim in the ocean. Breakfast was at seven. By nine, he was in the balcony of his hotel room with a coffee, pondering over some literature and waving at Nirmala as she headed to the restaurant for breakfast.

  In the past week, Alejandro had spent a lot of time to himself, deep in thought, strategizing their next course of action and studying Indian mythology. His afternoons however, were for Nirmala. To help her train to be a Hekameses. Nirmala was particularly fascinated by his ability to use his brain to interfere with electronic gadgets and she kept badgering him to help her learn this skill.

  “It is not easy if you are not born with the capability,” he would say. “But I am positive you can learn it. With your enthusiasm and effort, I don’t see why not! Now, focus on the object.” He would hold up a small device such as the TV remote or his mobile phone and point to it.

  Alejandro had also requested some equipment from Dr. Müller’s lab in Germany to help train Nirmala. They were like electrodes that were attached to the skull and stimulated the nerve centres. There was also a weird-looking headset. All the gadgets were for a similar purpose, Nirmala was told.

  Her favourites were the little inventions, shaped like everyday objects such as hair clips, hearing aids or Bluetooth headphones, that detected the presence of low-energy electronic signals in the vicinity. Once such a signal was identified, the sensor inside would emanate a beep, alerting the wearer. It would then amplify the said signal and use it to stimulate the wearer’s brain so that, if need be, the signal could be replicated in the brain and directed back to the electronic device in question.

  The purpose was simple. If there was an electronic actuator, lock or a cell phone nearby, the wearer would know immediately, and then the amplified signal from the sensor would enable their brain to tamper with this lock or cell phone, if the necessity arose. Nirmala never had any luck with the mobile phones. Alejandro could set off the ringer and make a phone ring, just with his mind, without the help of any additional sensors. But not Nirmala. Although her training was not completely futile.

  Last Thursday there was a miracle. She was focussing on the remote control in Alejandro’s hand for over fifteen minutes without any effect. She was about to give up and then all of a sudden, the little LED blinked red momentarily, as if by magic. The television did not turn on. The pulse was too brief, but it was quite a feat nonetheless. It showed her, there was hope. They celebrated that evening with a glass of champagne from the restaurant.

  Today, as Nirmala sat in the lobby, reminiscing the week at Havelock, the sun, the beaches, the emerald blue waters, her training and triumphs, the moonlit walks on the beach with Alejandro, she fell into a reverie and almost slipped away from reality. Then she was awakened with a rude jolt as her phone beeped. The driver had arrived and had sent a text message.

  Shit, where is Alejandro? thought Nirmala, looking at the time on her phone. Nirmala looked around. The hotel lobby was mostly deserted, being after breakfast when most of the guests were out and about or lounging on the beach. Apart from her, there was a monk with a shaved head, wearing a saffron-coloured robe at the reception, probably checking out.

  Huh, didn’t know that monks vacationed here. Nirmala was suddenly amused. But as she made to reach for her phone again to call Alejandro, the monk in question turned around and started to walk briskly in her direction. Nirmala abruptly stood up. Slightly alarmed, she was making for the door when she noticed a glint in the monk’s eye and a familiar coy smile.

  “Alejandro!” she exclaimed, taken aback.

  “Yes, ma’am. How’s the hair-do?” he joked, stroking his bald head.

  “God-awful!” Laughed Nirmala. “What’s going on?”

  “Here, these are for you,” he said, handing her a plastic bag containing similar raiment and a garland made of rudraksha beads like the one he was wearing over his robe. “Can you change quick? Then we will match.”

  “Y-e-s,” stammered Nirmala. “And do I have to—”

  “Shave your head? No.” Laughed Alejandro. “Now, go quickly, please. We are late. My hair dresser took way too long,” he ended with a wink.

  When Nirmala returned in identical garb, they headed to the airport and Alejandro explained the plan on the way. It may still be dangerous to re-appear in Dwarka as themselves, so extra precaution was being taken. They would pretend to be members of the International Society for Krishna Consciousness or ISKCON. They are on a pilgrimage to the sacred temple of Krishna in Dwarka. As always, it was Wolfgang’s idea. ISKCON is evidently very p
opular in Germany.

  * * *

  They arrived at the Krishna temple at Dwarka that night at around ten, after the temple gates had officially closed for visitors. This was deliberately arranged so that they could make the most of their time on the premises without getting shoved around by a cavalcade of pilgrims. ISKCON devotees had special privileges at the house of Krishna, and Wolfgang had made sure to use this to his advantage when he organized the visit.

  The path that led up to the temple was narrow and winding, lined with countless little shops. During the day, they displayed their colourful merchandise, consisting of various works of art and objects of piety, flowers and garments and incense of floral aromas, but at this hour they had their shutters down, having closed for the day.

  The path was dark, and Alejandro led them in torchlight through the closely packed array of stores on either side. At last they arrived at the foot of a set of at least fifty stairs, broad, white and ancient. Beyond it, they could see the towering mass of the delicately carved structure of the many towered temple, made of soft white limestone, that loomed out of the darkness like a snowy mountain.

  At the foot of the stairs stood a sentry, garbed in a khaki uniform and armed with a baton. Behind him, Alejandro could see the feeble frame of an elderly man sitting on the steps, leaning on a walking stick, his bent head wrapped in a shawl. Other than that, there was no one in sight. Walking up to the sentry, Alejandro put his hands together and bowing politely, greeted him with a smile.

  “Hare Krishna,” he said, in the fashion of the ISKCON devotees and Nirmala joined in.

  “Hare Krishna, namaste,” said the guard, bending his head reverentially in their direction, his hands together. Alejandro was about to open his mouth again when he noticed that the shrouded old man in the background had gotten up and was walking slowly towards them. He was dressed rather shabbily and had an unkempt appearance with a silver beard poking out through his shawl. Alejandro, always on his guard, moved back one step, acting from reflex.

  “Ah, there you are,” said the old man, when he was within earshot. “I had to sit down to rest my knees. As you know, I am an old man.”

  “Professor, Sinha! Hare Krishna,” said Alejandro, staying in character. He felt relieved. “Glad you could make it.”

  “Oh, I had to, my dears. There was no one at this temple that could tell you more about its history than I, and if indeed there is another, he is the priest of this temple and he does not speak any English, unfortunately. So, as soon as I heard you were coming here again, instead of arranging for a guide, as requested, I decided to come in person,” he paused and then moving closer to Alejandro whispered into his ear, “but I was warned it would not be safe. Hence this disguise.”

  “Makes sense,” said Alejandro, “Does the guard understand English?” he inquired in a hushed tone.

  “Not that I know of. But better be safe than sorry, I say.”

  “Very true.”

  “Well now that you are here let us head up the stairs. It is quite a long flight up and my old knees will have to go slow.”

  “No problem, sir. Please take your time. Here, let me help you,” said Nirmala, quickly walking forward and grabbing the professor by the arm, in order to assist him up the steps.

  “Oh, very kind, young lady. We can talk as we ascend. That way, we will not waste any time.”

  “Yes, that would be very helpful,” agreed Alejandro. “Will he be coming?” he then added, indicating the guard.

  “Oh dear, no. He needs to stand guard here. He is here every night. This temple never had such security before, until things got violent around here,” said Dr. Sinha as the company started climbing slowly up the steps.

  “Violent? Really? How come?” asked Alejandro.

  “Well there came this God-man, about a decade ago. He claimed that he was the Kalki. He gathered a huge following. Every day he would set up camp here and meet hundreds and thousands of disciples, all hungry for his blessings, all craving a better life and more riches and better careers. Man’s greed, as you know, has no bounds. The years went on and his disciples grew, their greed grew and with that, grew also the greed of the God-man himself.”

  “The greed of the God-man? How so?” asked Nirmala.

  “I will explain. When the disciples grew in number, some of the more trusted among them put together a system for people wishing to visit the God-man for his blessings. They would pay a small fee or ‘pranami’ to make an appointment. The only way to pay the fee was to wire-transfer the funds from their bank accounts to a trust account of the saint that was set up by his devotees. Here is where the problem lay.” At this point he stopped for breath. “My dear, I need to rest a bit before we can continue,” he then said to Nirmala and made to sit down on the steps.

  “Why, of course,” said Nirmala. “Please, sit.” Dr. Sinha sat down first, and Nirmala sat next to him. Alejandro sat one step above the two, within clear earshot. It was a warm night, but the sky was gloomy and starless. From their vantage point, Alejandro saw how crowded the area was, with houses back to back at such close intervals that you could barely sneeze without your neighbours finding out. Yet, at this hour, there was none out of doors. As if a hushed terror walked upon the streets after dark that all dreaded to encounter. They sat silently for about a minute or so, each deep in their own thoughts and then suddenly Dr. Sinha spoke again.

  “Now, where was I? Oh yes, the pranami. It was a fee sent to a trust account by a devotee. But herein lay the trouble. As soon as a wire-transfer was made, the devotee’s bank account got compromised and huge sums of money started disappearing from their accounts.”

  “No way!” exclaimed Nirmala.

  “A con-man,” said Alejandro.

  “What is that, young man?” asked Dr. Sinha.

  “He was a fraud, a charlatan, this God-man, wasn’t he?” asked Alejandro.

  “Oh yes, no doubt about that. Soon enough, the police found him. The trial went on for years and recently, he has been sent to jail.”

  “Good riddance!” said Alejandro.

  “Yes, but his disciples took this sentencing very hard. They came in troops to vandalize the temple in protest and there has been too much unrest.”

  “I see. That’s why the sentry,” said Nirmala.

  “Correct and there is another one upstairs. Now, let us head there. I think I can walk again,” he said, slowly getting up.

  Alejandro rushed to his side to help. “Yes, let’s go,” he said. When they had climbed a couple of more steps Alejandro spoke again.

  “Professor, when you were describing this God-man, you said something that caught my ear. You said that he claimed to be the Kalki. I remember you referring to the Kalki, the last time we met, but I wasn’t sure if I had heard you right that time. What is this Kalki you speak of? Would you mind telling us?”

  “Oh, dear me, you have not heard of the Kalki yet? Of course, I don’t mind telling you, since you are ever so eager to learn about the transition of the ages. Kalki is the one who will bring about our progression from Kali Yuga and advancement into the Dwapara Yuga, you see!”

  “Oh, is that so? Is it a prophecy, then?”

  “You can say that it is, indeed. It was prophesied by Krishna himself in the Srimad Bhagavad Gita, our sacred text. Krishna will return in Kali Yuga, he said so himself!”

  “Does that mean Kalki is another avatar of Vishnu then?”

  “Why, of course! He is the tenth avatar of Vishnu who arrives in the Kali Yuga to save the world from annihilation. Until he comes, mankind is doomed to death and destruction.”

  “You say, until,” said Nirmala, now moving up next to the professor, “does that mean he isn’t here yet?”

  “We do not know. Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. It is a mystery to all.”

  “How can that be?” asked Alejandro, surprised. “If he were already here, then would we not have seen him?”

  “Not necessarily, my child. The Lord is elusive. He cannot be
seen by anyone who simply wishes to see him. He will manifest himself as and when he pleases at any location on earth that he deems fit. He will make himself visible to whom he chooses and at the precise hour and location of his fancy. He is God. He does as he pleases.”

  “That means, there is no way for us to seek him, then?” Alejandro asked. Although he did not believe in God, Alejandro believed in elevated consciousness that conferred abilities of celestial proportion. He did not doubt that if such an enlightened being existed then he would easily be mistaken for God.

  “Of course, there is. Ones that seek him with a pure and perfect heart will see him. He will come to them, they need not travel to him. But it is not easy. It may require many lifetimes worth of seeking the Lord to see him at all. You must seek him like Meerabai or Sri Chaitanya to see the Kalki in his mortal form.”

  “And who are these—” Alejandro was about to say, but he was interrupted by Nirmala.

  “They were famous Indian saints who prayed to Lord Krishna or Lord Vishnu to be more accurate.”

  “Correct,” said Dr. Sinha. Alejandro’s heart had been suddenly filled with hope upon hearing of a saviour with enlightened consciousness and superior genetic abilities, who might yet appear among men. But now, it sank. If this individual was indeed around, then there was no easy way to reach him, it appeared.

  “Do not despair,” continued Dr. Sinha, noticing the change in Alejandro’s facial expression. “Trust in Kalki, he will show himself when the hour is the darkest and the night bears no promise of dawn. ‘Til then, you must fight on and trust in his divine judgement. And seek him, if you must. You never know whose heart is pure enough for Kalki to answer the call. Keep trying. Ah, we are here,” he finally said as they approached the top of the steps.

  Another uniformed guard was stationed here, just as Dr. Sinha had promised. He was seated on a wooden chair next to the temple entrance and did not nod or show any reaction to their arrival. When they got closer, they noticed that he had dozed off. At the entrance, Dr. Sinha stopped and turned around to face his companions.