Immortals of Meluha

by Amish Tripathi

  ‘That is a big task to take on, your Highness,’ said Shiva. ‘It is sweeping in its kindness and reason. But it is a very big task. You will need soldiers to defeat their army and missionaries to bring them to your side. It is not going to be easy.’

  ‘I agree. There are many in my empire who have concerns about even attacking Swadweep, and I am putting forth a much bigger challenge to them, of reforming Swadweep. That is why I did not want to launch this without the Neelkanth, my Lord.’

  Shiva remembered his uncle’s words, spoken many years back, in what was almost another life. Your destiny lies beyond the mountains. Whether you fulfil it or run away once again, is up to you.

  As Daksha spoke once again, Shiva refocused his attention on him.

  ‘The problems that we are facing were prophesied, my Lord,’ continued Daksha. ‘Lord Ram had himself said that any philosophy, no matter how perfect, works only for a finite period. That is the law of nature and cannot be avoided. But what the legends also tell us is that when the problems become insurmountable for ordinary men, the Neelkanth will appear. And that he will destroy the evil Chandravanshis and restore the forces of good. My Lord, you are the Neelkanth. You can save us. You can complete the unfinished task of Lord Ram. You must lead us and help us defeat the Chandravanshis. You must rally the Swadweepans around to the side of good. Otherwise I fear that this beautiful country that we have, the near perfect society of Meluha, will be destroyed in years of endless war. Will you help us my Lord? Will you lead us?’

  Shiva was confused. ‘But I didn’t understand, your Highness? What exactly would I do?’

  ‘I don’t know, my Lord. We only know our destination and that you will be our leader. The path we take is up to you.’

  They want me to destroy the entire way of life of eighty million people by myself! Are they mad?

  Shiva spoke carefully. ‘I empathise with your people and their hardships, your Highness. But to be quite honest, I don’t really understand how one man like me can make a difference.’

  ‘If that man is you my Lord,’ said Daksha, his moist eyes opened wide in devotion and faith, ‘he can change the entire universe.’

  ‘I am not so sure of that, your Highness,’ said Shiva with a weak smile. ‘Why will my being present make such a difference? I am no miracle worker. I cannot snap my fingers and cause bolts of lightning to descend on the Chandravanshis.’

  ‘It is your presence itself that will make the difference, my Lord. I invite you to travel through the empire. See the effect your blue throat has on the people. Once my people believe that they can do it, they will be able to do it!’

  ‘You are the Neelkanth, my Lord,’ added Kanakhala. The people have faith in the bearer of the blue throat. They will have faith in you. ‘Will you help us, my Lord?’

  Will you run away once again?

  ‘But how do you know that my blue throat makes me the genuine Neelkanth?’ asked Shiva. ‘For all you know, there may be many Meluhans with a blue throat waiting to be discovered!’

  ‘No, my Lord,’ said Daksha. ‘It cannot be a Meluhan. The legend says that the Neelkanth will be a foreigner. He cannot be from the Sapt-Sindhu. And that he will get a blue throat on drinking the Somras.’

  Shiva did not answer. He looked stunned as truth suddenly dawned upon him.

  Srinagar. The first night. Somras. That’s how my body got repaired. That’s why I’m feeling stronger than ever.

  Daksha and Kanakhala looked at Shiva breathlessly, waiting for his decision. Praying for his right decision.

  But why only me? All the Gunas were given the Somras. Was my uncle right? Do I really have a destiny?

  Parvateshwar stared at Shiva with narrowed eyes.

  I don’t deserve any destiny. But maybe this is my chance to redeem myself.

  But first...

  Shiva asked with controlled politeness, ‘Your Highness, before I answer, may I ask you a question?’

  ‘Of course, my Lord.’

  ‘Do you agree that honesty is required to make any friendship work? Even if it means deeply offending your friend with the truth?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ replied Daksha, wondering where Shiva was going with this.

  ‘Complete honesty is not just the bedrock of an individual relationship, but of any stable society,’ interjected Parvateshwar.

  ‘I couldn’t agree more,’ said Shiva. ‘And yet, Meluha wasn’t honest with me.’

  Nobody said anything.

  Shiva continued in a courteous, but firm tone. ‘When my tribe was being invited to come to Meluha, we had the impression you wanted immigrants because you needed people to work. And I was happy to escape my benighted land. But now I realise that you were systematically searching for the Neelkanth.’

  Turning to Nandi, Shiva said, ‘We weren’t told that a medicine called the Somras would be administered to us as soon as we entered. We weren’t told that the medicine would have such effects.’

  Nandi looked down with guilty eyes. His Lord had the right to be angry with him.

  Turning to Daksha, Shiva continued, ‘Your Highness, you know that the Somras was probably administered to me on my first night in Kashmir, without my knowledge.’

  ‘I am truly sorry about that dishonesty my Lord,’ said Daksha, with his hands in a penitent namaste. ‘It’s something that I will always be ashamed of. But the stakes were too high for us. And the Somras has considerably positive effects on your body. It doesn’t harm you in any way.’

  ‘I know. I am not exactly upset about having to live a long and healthy life,’ said Shiva wryly. ‘Do you know that my tribe was also probably given the Somras that night? And they fell seriously ill, perhaps because of the Somras.’

  ‘They were under no risk my Lord,’ said Kanakhala apologetically. ‘Some people are predisposed towards certain diseases. When the Somras enters the body, it triggers the immediate occurrence of these diseases, which when cured, never recur. Hence, the body remains healthy till death. Your tribe is actually much healthier now.’

  ‘No doubt they are,’ said Shiva. ‘The point is not about the effects of the Somras. Both my tribe and I are better for it. Yet, from what I understand of Meluha, getting somebody to do something without telling him all the facts would not have been Lord Ram’s way. You should have told us the complete truth at Mount Kailash. Then you should have let us make an informed choice rather than you making a choice for us. We probably would still have come to Meluha anyway but then it would have been our choice.’

  ‘Please forgive us the deception, my Lord,’ said Daksha, with guilty regret. ‘It is not our way to do something like this. We pride ourselves on our honesty. But we had no choice. We are truly sorry, my Lord. Your people are well taken care of. They are healthier than ever. They will live long, productive lives.’

  Parvateshwar finally broke his silence, speaking what was always in his heart since the search had begun many decades ago. ‘Shiva, we are truly sorry for what has been done. You have every right to be angry. Lying is not our way. I think what was done is appalling and Lord Ram would have never condoned this. No matter how serious our troubles, we have no right to deceive someone into helping us. I am deeply sorry’

  Shiva raised his eyebrow a bit.

  Parvateshwar is the only one apologising instead of making excuses. He is a true follower of the great king Ram’s way

  Shiva smiled.

  Daksha let out an audible sigh of relief.

  Shiva turned towards Daksha. ‘Let us put this in the past, your Highness. Like I said, there are some things about your nation that could be improved. No doubt about that. But it is amongst the best societies that I have seen. And it is worth fighting for. But I have a few conditions.’

  ‘Of course, my Lord,’ said Daksha, eager to please.

  ‘At this point of time, I am not saying that I can perform the tasks that you expect of me nor am I saying that I cannot do it. All I am saying is that I will try my best. But before that, I want
to understand more of your society before I can be sure of how I can help. I am assuming that nothing will be hidden from me nor will I be misled.’

  ‘Of course, my Lord.’

  ‘Secondly, you still need immigrants to expand your population. But you should not mislead them. I think that you should tell them the entire truth about Meluha and let them make an informed decision on whether to come here. Or you don’t invite them at all. Is that fair?’

  ‘Of course it is, my Lord,’ said Daksha. Nodding briefly towards Kanakhala, he committed, ‘We will implement that immediately.’

  ‘Furthermore, it is clear to me that I am not going back to Kashmir. Can my tribe, the Gunas, be brought to Devagiri? I would like them to be with me.’

  ‘Of course, my Lord,’ said Daksha with a quick look at Kanakhala. ‘Instructions will be sent today itself to bring them to Devagiri.’

  ‘Also, I would like to visit the location where you manufacture the Somras. I would like to understand this drink of the gods. Something tells me that it is important to do so.’

  ‘Of course you may, my Lord,’ said Daksha, his face finally breaking into a nervous smile. ‘Kanakhala will take you there tomorrow itself. In fact, my family is also scheduled for a visit there day after tomorrow for a puja at the Brahma temple. Perhaps we could meet there.’

  ‘That would be nice,’ said Shiva smiling. Then taking a deep breath he added, ‘And lastly, I guess that you would like to announce the arrival of the Neelkanth to your people.’

  Daksha and Kanakhala nodded hesitantly.

  ‘I would like to request that you don’t do that for now.’

  Daksha and Kanakhala’s face fell immediately. Nandi’s eyes were glued to the floor. He had stopped listening to the conversation. The enormity of his prevarication was tearing him apart.

  ‘Your Highness, I have a terrible feeling that when people know I am the Neelkanth, every action and word of mine will be over-interpreted and over—analysed,’ explained Shiva. ‘I am afraid that I don’t know enough about your society or my task to be able to handle that at this point of time.’

  ‘I understand my Lord,’ said Daksha, willing a broken smile back on his face. You have my word. Only my immediate staff, my family and the people you allow will know of the Neelkanth’s arrival. Nobody else.’

  ‘Thank you, your Highness. But I will say it again: I am a simple tribal man who just happened to get a blue throat because of some exotic medicine. Honesdy, I still don’t know what one man like me can do in the face of the odds that you face.’

  ‘And I’ll say it again my Lord,’ said Daksha, with a child-like smile. ‘If that man is you, he can change the entire universe!’

  CHAPTER 8

  Drink of the Gods

  Shiva and Nandi were walking back to the royal guest house. Shiva had decided he wanted to eat lunch alone. Nandi walked a few steps behind, his head bowed in self-recrimination. ‘My Lord, I am so sorry’

  Shiva turned around to gaze at Nandi.

  ‘You are right, my Lord. We were so lost in our own troubles and the search for the Neelkanth that we didn’t realise the unfairness of our actions on immigrants. I misled you my Lord. I lied to you.’

  Shiva didn’t say anything. He continued to stare intensely into Nandi’s eyes.

  ‘I am so sorry my Lord. I have failed you. I will accept whatever punishment you give me.’

  Shiva’s lips broke into a very faint smile. He patted Nandi lightly on his shoulders, signalling he had forgiven him. But his eyes delivered a clear message. ‘Never lie to me again, my friend.’

  Nandi nodded and whispered, ‘Never, my Lord. I am so sorry’

  ‘Forget it Nandi,’ said Shiva, his smile a little broader now. ‘It’s in the past.’

  They turned and continued walking. Suddenly Shiva shook his head and chuckled slighdy. ‘Strange people!’

  ‘What is it, my Lord?’ asked Nandi.

  ‘Nothing really. I was just wondering at some of the interesting things about your society.’

  ‘Interesting, my Lord?’ asked Nandi, feeling a little more confident now that Shiva was speaking to him again.

  ‘Well, some people in your country think just the presence of my blue throat can help you achieve impossible tasks. Some people actually think that my name has suddenly become so holy that they can’t even speak it.’

  Nandi smiled slightly.

  ‘On the other hand,’ continued Shiva, ‘some people clearly think that I am not required. In fact, they even think that my touching them is so polluting that I need to get a shudhikaran done!’

  ‘Shudhikaran? Why would you need that my Lord?’ asked Nandi, a little concerned.

  Shiva weighed his words carefully. ‘Well, I touched someone. And I was told that I would need to undergo a shudhikaran.’

  ‘What? Who did you touch my Lord? Was it a vikarma person?’ asked a troubled Nandi. ‘Only the touch of a vikarma person would mean that you would need to get a shudhikaran.’

  Shiva’s face abruptly changed colour. A veil lifted from his eyes. He suddenly understood the significance of the events of the previous day. Her hasty withdrawal at being touched. The shocked reactions from the Guruji and Krittika.

  ‘Go back to the guest house, Nandi. I will see you there,’ said Shiva, as he turned towards the guest house garden.

  ‘My Lord, what happened?’ asked Nandi, trying to keep pace with Shiva. ‘Did you get the shudhikaran done or not?’

  ‘Go to the guest house Nandi,’ said Shiva walking rapidly away. ‘I will see you there.’

  Shiva waited for the larger part of an hour. But it was in vain, for Sati did not make an appearance. He sat on the bench by himself, cursing the moment when that terrible thought had entered his mind.

  How could I have even thought that Sati would find my touch polluting? I am such a bloody idiot!

  He replayed moments of that fateful encounter in his mind and analysed every facet of it.

  ‘If something happened to you, I would never be able to forgive myself.’

  What did she mean by saying that? Does she have feelings for me? Or is she just an honourable woman who can’t bear to be the cause of someone else’s misfortune? And why should she think of herself as inferior? This entire concept of the vikarma is so damned ridiculous!

  Realising that she wasn’t going to come, Shiva got up. He kicked the bench hard, getting a painful reminder that his once numb toe had got its sensation back. Cursing out loud, he started walking back to the guest house. Walking past the stage, he noticed that there was something lying on the dance floor. He went closer and bent down to pick it up. It was her bead bracelet. He had seen it on her right hand. The string did not seem broken.

  Had she purposely dropped it here?

  He smelt it. It had the fragrance of the holy lake on a sun-kissed evening. He brought it delicately to his lips and kissed it gently. Smiling, he dropped the bracelet into the pouch tied around his waist. He would come back from Mount Mandar and meet her. He had to meet her. He would pursue her to the end of the world if required. He would fight the entire human race to have her. His journey in this life was incomplete without her. His heart knew it. His soul knew it.

  ‘How much further is it, Madam Prime Minister?’ asked Nandi, behaving like an excited child.

  A visit to the mythical Mount Mandar, the hub where the drink of the gods was manufactured, was a rare honour for any Meluhan. For most Suryavanshis, Mount Mandar was the soul of their empire, for as long as it was safe, so was the Somras.

  ‘It’s only been an hour since we left Devagiri, Captain,’ said Kanakhala smiling. ‘It’s a day’s journey to Mount Mandar.’

  ‘Actually because of the blinds on the carriage windows, I can’t see anything outside. And I can’t tell how much time has gone by since I can’t see the Sun either. That’s why I was asking’

  ‘The prahar lamp is right behind you, Captain. The blinds are down for your own protection.’

&nbs
p; Shiva smiled at Kanakhala. He could understand that the blinds were not for their protection, but for the safety of Mount Mandar. To keep its location secret. Very few people knew of its exact location. There was an elite team of soldiers called the Arishtanemi who protected the road to Mount Mandar and the travellers on it. Except for the scientists of Mount Mandar, the Arishtanemi and any person authorised by the Emperor, nobody was allowed to the mountain or to know its location. If the Chandravanshi terrorists attacked Mount Mandar, all would be lost for Meluha.

  ‘Who would we be meeting there, Kanakhala?’ asked Shiva.

  ‘My Lord, we would be meeting Brahaspati. He is the Chief Scientist of the empire. He leads the team of scientists who manufacture the Somras for the entire country. Of course, they also conduct research in many other fields. A bird courier has already been sent to him informing him of your arrival. We will be meeting him tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Shiva nodded slightly, smiled at Kanakhala, and said, Thank you.’

  As Nandi looked at the prahar lamp again, Shiva went back to his book. It was an interesting manuscript about the terrible war that was fought many thousands of years ago, between the Devas, the gods; and the Asuras, the demons — an eternal struggle between opposites: good and evil. The Devas, with the help of Lord Rudra, the Mahadev, the God of Gods, had destroyed the Asuras and established righteousness in the world again.

  ‘I hope you slept well, my Lord,’ said Kanakhala as she welcomed Shiva and Nandi into the chamber outside Brahaspati’s office.

  It was the beginning of the last hour of the first prahar. Days began early at Mount Mandar.

  ‘Yes, I did,’ said Shiva. Though there was a strange rhythmic sound on through the night’

  Kanakhala smiled but did not offer any explanation. She bowed her head and opened the door to let Shiva into Brahaspati’s office. Shiva walked in followed by Kanakhala and Nandi. There were various strange instruments spread throughout Brahaspati’s large office, neatly organised on tables of different heights. There were palm leaf notes alongside each of the instruments where some experiments had clearly been conducted. The room was a restrained blue. There was a large picture window in the corner which afforded a breathtaking view of the dense forest at the foot of the mountain. At the centre, many simple, low seats had been arranged together in a square. It was a frugal room, in line with a culture that celebrated simplicity over style at every turn.