Immortals of Meluha

by Amish Tripathi

  What now?

  ‘I disagree,’ said Shiva. ‘I think the sun burns only as long as the earth is close to him. If the earth wasn’t there, there would be no reason for the sun to exist.’

  ‘The sun doesn’t exist just for the earth. It exists for every single planet in the solar system.’

  ‘Isn’t it really the sun’s choice for whom he chooses to exist?’

  ‘No,’ said Sati, looking at Shiva, melancholic. ‘The moment he became the sun, his calling became higher. He does not exist for himself. He exists for the greater good of everyone. His luminosity is the lifeblood of the solar system. And if the earth has any sense of responsibility, she will not do anything to destroy this balance.’

  ‘So what should the sun do?’ asked Shiva, his hurt and anger showing on his face. ‘Just waste his entire life burning away? Looking at the earth from a distance?’

  ‘The earth isn’t going away anywhere. The sun and the earth can still share a warm friendship. But anything more is against the laws. It is against the interests of others.’

  Shiva turned away from Sati in anger. He looked north to seek solace from his holy lake. Feeling nothing, he looked up at the skies, towards the gods he did not believe in.

  Dammit!

  He banged the balcony railing with his powerful fist, dislodging some bricks and stormed off.

  Outside the city walls, in a forested area, a few soldiers lay in wait. At a slight distance, two hooded figures were seated on large rocks. The captain of the platoon of soldiers stood rigid in attention next to the duo. He could not believe that he was standing next to the Queen herself. The privilege overwhelmed him.

  One of the hooded figures raised his hand to motion for the captain to step closer. On the hooded figure’s wrist was a leather bracelet with the serpent Aum. ‘Vishwadyumna, are you sure this is where we are supposed to meet him? He is late by nearly an hour.’

  ‘Yes, my Lord,’ replied Vishwadyumna nervously. ‘This is exactly where he had said he would come.’

  The other hooded figure turned and spoke in a commanding voice - a feminine one. A voice used to being obeyed without question. ‘That man makes the Queen of the Nagas wait!’ Turning to the other hooded figure, she continued, ‘I trust you have worked this out in detail. I hope I haven’t entered this vile territory in vain.’

  The other hooded figure moved his fleshy hands in a motion asking the Queen for patience. ‘Have faith, your Highness. This man is our key to giving the Suryavanshis a blow that they will never recover from.’

  ‘Apparently, there was an Agnipariksha fight between the princess and a man in the city yesterday,’ said Vishwadyumna suddenly, trying to impress the Queen with his sharp ear for local knowledge. ‘I do not have the exact details. I just hope that our man was not involved in it.’

  The Queen turned swiftly to the other hooded figure. Then back to Vishwadyumna. ‘Please wait with the other soldiers.’

  Vishwadyumna sensed he had said something he shouldn’t have and quickly retreated before his Lord’s stern gaze could reprimand him. This is why he had been told in training school that a good soldier never speaks unless spoken to.

  ‘She’s here?’ asked the Queen with barely suppressed anger.

  The other hooded figure nodded.

  ‘I thought I’d told you to forget about this,’ said the Queen sternly. There is nothing to be gained by this quest. Do you realise that your stupid attack on Mount Mandar may have let them suspect that we have a mole in their midst?’

  The male figure looked up in apology.

  ‘Did you come here for her?’

  ‘No, your Highness,’ said the hooded figure with a deeply respectful tone. This was the place where he asked us to meet him.’

  The Queen reached her hand out and gently patted the man’s shoulder. ‘Stay focussed, my child,’ said the Queen softly. ‘If we pull this off, it will be our biggest victory ever. Like you just said, we will strike a blow that they will find very difficult to recover from.’

  The man nodded.

  ‘And yet,’ continued the Queen, pulling her hand back into the shelter of her black robes, ‘your preoccupation with her, makes you take uncharacteristic decisions. Do you know he has sent a clear message that she cannot be touched? Otherwise, the deal is off.’

  The hooded figure stared at the Queen in surprise. ‘How did you...’

  ‘I am the Queen of the Nagas, my child,’ she interrupted. ‘I have more than one piece on the chessboard.’

  The hooded figure continued to look at the Queen, ashamed about his poor call at Mount Mandar. The Queen’s next words added to his shame. ‘You are making surprising mistakes, my child. You have the potential to be the greatest Naga ever. Don’t waste it.’

  ‘Yes, your Highness.’

  The Queen appeared to relax.

  ‘I think when we are alone now,’ said the Queen, ‘maybe you can refer to me as Mausi. After all I am your mother’s sister’

  ‘Of course, you are,’ said the hooded figure as a smile reached his eyes. ‘Whatever you say, mausi.’

  It had been two weeks since the Agnipariksha. Sati had recovered sufficiently for the convoy to continue its journey to its next destination. Shiva, Parvateshwar and Brahaspati sat together in Shiva’s chambers at the guest-house.

  ‘It’s agreed then,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘I will make the arrangements for us to commence our journey a week from today. By that time, Sati should have recovered completely’

  ‘Yes, I think that is a suitable plan,’ agreed Shiva.

  ‘Parvateshwar, I will not be coming along any further,’ said Brahaspati.

  ‘Why?’ asked Parvateshwar.

  ‘Well, the new chemicals I had ordered have come. I was considering going back with the consignment to Mount Mandar so that the experiments can begin as soon as possible. If we can get this right, the consumption of water for making the Somras will reduce drastically.’

  Shiva smiled sadly. ‘I am going to miss you my friend.’

  ‘And I you,’ said Brahaspati. ‘But I am not leaving the country. When you finish your tour, come to Mount Mandar. I’ll show you around the sylvan forests near our facility’

  ‘Yes,’ said Shiva with a grin. ‘Perhaps you will reveal some of your scientific skills and discover a plausible cause for the blue throat!’

  Both Shiva and Brahaspati burst out laughing. Parvateshwar, who did not understand the private joke, looked on politely.

  ‘Just one point, Brahaspati,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘I will not be able to divert any soldiers from the royal entourage. I will speak with Governor Jhooleshwar to send some soldiers along for your return journey.’

  ‘Thank you, Parvateshwar. But I am sure I will be fine. Why should a terrorist be interested in me?’

  ‘There was another terrorist attack yesterday in a village some fifty kilometres from Mohan Jo Daro,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘The entire temple was destroyed and all the Brahmins killed.’

  ‘Another one,’ said Shiva, angered. ‘That is the third attack this month!’

  ‘Yes,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘They are getting bolder. And as usual, they escaped before any back-up could arrive to give them a real fight’

  Shiva clenched his fists. He had no idea on how to counter the terror attacks. There was no way to prepare for them since nobody knew where they would strike next. Was attacking Swadweep, the Chandravanshi’s own country, the only way to stop this? Brahaspati kept quiet, sensing Shiva’s inner turmoil. He knew there were no easy answers.

  Looking at Shiva, Parvateshwar continued, ‘I will also get my people to make preparations for our journey. I’ll meet you in the evening for dinner. I think Sati can finally join us. I will send instructions for Nandi and Veerbhadra to join us. I know you like their company.’

  Shiva looked starled at Parvateshwar’s uncharacteristic thoughtfulness. ‘Thank you Parvateshwar. This is very kind of you. But I believe Krittika, Nandi and Veerbhadra are going to a flute reci
tal tonight. That crazy Veerbhadra has even bought some jewels so that he won’t look like a country bumpkin next to Nandi!’

  Parvateshwar smiled politely.

  ‘But it will be a pleasure to dine with you,’ said Shiva.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Parvateshwar as he got up. After a few steps, he stopped and turned around. Overcoming his hesitation, he mumbled. ‘Shiva!’

  ‘Yes?’ Shiva got up.

  ‘I don’t think I ever told you this,’ said Parvateshwar, uncomfortable. ‘But I would like to thank you for helping Sati in her agnipariksha. It was your clear thinking which led to victory’

  ‘No, no,’ said Shiva. ‘It was her brilliance.’

  ‘Of course it was,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘But you gave her the confidence and the strategy to show her brilliance. If there is any person in the world that I look at with a feeling beyond a sense of duty, it is Sati. I thank you for helping her.’

  ‘You are welcome,’ smiled Shiva, with sense not to embarrass Parvateshwar further by lengthening this conversation.

  Parvateshwar smiled and folded his hands into a namaste. While he had still not fallen prey to the country-wide ‘Neelkanth fever’, he was beginning to respect Shiva. Earning Parvateshwar’s esteem was a long journey that Shiva had only just begun. The General turned around and walked out of the room.

  ‘He is not a bad sort,’ said Brahaspati, looking at Parvateshwar’s retreating back. ‘He may be a little surly. But he is one of the most honest Suryavanshis I have ever met. A true follower of Lord Ram. I hope you don’t get too upset by the ill-tempered things he says to you.’

  ‘I don’t,’ said Shiva. ‘In fact, I think very highly of Parvateshwar. He is one man whose respect I would certainly like to earn.’

  Brahaspati smiled seeing yet another instance of Shiva’s large heart. He leaned closer and said, ‘You are a good man.’

  Shiva smiled back.

  ‘I had not answered you the last time you had asked me, Shiva,’ continued Brahaspati. ‘Honestly, I have never believed in the legend of the Neelkanth. I still don’t.’

  Shiva’s smile became a little broader.

  ‘But I believe in you. If there is one person capable of sucking the negative energy out of this land, I think it will be you. And I will do all I can to help you. In whatever way I can.’

  ‘You are the brother I never had Brahaspati. Just your presence is all the help I need.’

  Saying so Shiva embraced his friend. Brahaspati hugged Shiva back warmly, feeling a sense of renewed energy course through him. He swore once again that he would never back off from his mission. No matter what. It wasn’t just for Meluha. It was also for Shiva. His friend.

  It was over three weeks after Sati’s agnipariksha that the convoy set off from Karachapa. The usual seven carriages travelled in a row. This time not five, but six carriages were dummies. Shiva sat with Sati in the third and they had been joined by Parvateshwar and Ayurvati as well. It was the first time that Parvateshwar was travelling in the same carriage as Shiva. Krittika had begged off the carriage and volunteered to ride, claiming that she was missing the scenic beauty of the countryside. Veerbhadra was more than pleased to ride along with her in Nandi’s platoon.

  They had journeyed just a few days away from Karachapa when the convoy was brought to a halt by a large caravan travelling hurriedly in the opposite direction. Parvateshwar stepped out of the carriage to inquire. Brigadier Vraka came up to Parvateshwar and executed a military salute.

  ‘What is the matter?’

  ‘My Lord, they are refugees from the village of Koonj,’ said Vraka. ‘They are escaping a terrorist attack.’

  ‘Escaping!’ asked a surprised Parvateshwar. ‘You mean the attack is still on?’

  ‘I think so, my Lord,’ said Vraka, his face filled with rage.

  ‘Goddamit!’ swore Parvateshwar. Neither Meluha nor he had ever got an opportunity like this. To be present at the right time and right place with a thousand five hundred soldiers while a terrorist attack was in progress. And yet, Parvateshwar’s hands were tied. He was not allowed to take on any mission except to protect the Neelkanth and the Princess.

  ‘What nonsense?’ he thought to himself. ‘My orders forbid me from following my Kshatriya dharma!’

  ‘What’s the matter, Parvateshwar?’

  Parvateshwar turned to find Shiva right behind him. Sati and Ayurvati were getting out of the carriage as well. Before Parvateshwar could answer, a horrible noise tore through the quiet forest road. It was a sound Shiva had come to recognise. It declared the evil intentions of the conch-shell bearer, loud and clear. It announced that an attack had begun. A Naga attack had begun!

  CHAPTER 17

  The Battle of Koonj

  ‘Where are they?’ asked Parvateshwar.

  ‘They are in my village, my Lord,’ said the scared village headman. ‘It’s a short distance from here. Some five hundred Chandravanshi soldiers, led by five Nagas. They gave us thirty minutes to leave. But the Brahmins at the temple were detained.’

  Parvateshwar clenched his fists to regain his control despite his fury.

  ‘Our Panditji is a good man, my Lord,’ said the village headman. Tears spilled out of his eyes. Vraka put a comforting hand on the headman’s shoulder. But the gesture only made the headman more miserable. Not knowing the fate of the village priest added to his guilt.

  ‘We wanted to stay and fight alongside our Pandit and the other Brahmins,’ sobbed the headman. ‘They are men of god. They don’t even know how to raise a weapon. How can they fight against this horde?’

  Vraka let go off the headman as anger got the better of him.

  ‘But Panditji ordered us to leave. He told us to flee with our women and children. He said he would face whatever Lord Brahma has written in his fate. But if anyone can be saved, they should be.’

  Parvateshwar’s nails dug into his skin. He was livid at the cowardly Chandravanshis for yet again attacking defenceless Brahmins and not Kshatriyas who could retaliate. He was incensed at his fate for having put him in a position where he could not take action. A part of him wanted to ignore his orders. But he was bound not to break the law.

  ‘THIS NONSENSE HAS TO STOP!’

  Parvateshwar looked up to see which voice had echoed his thoughts. The expression on Shiva’s face almost threw him back for a moment. The intense fury visible in the Neelkanth would have brought even a Deva to a standstill.

  ‘We are good people,’ raged Shiva. ‘We are not scared chicken who should turn and flee! Those terrorists should be on the run. They should be the ones feeling the wrath of the Suryavanshis!’

  A villager standing behind the headman said, ‘But they are terrorists! We cannot defeat them. The Panditji knew that. That is why he ordered us to run.’

  ‘But we have a thousand five hundred soldiers,’ said Shiva, irritated at the display of such cowardice. ‘And another five hundred of you. We outnumber them four to one. We can crush them. Teach them a lesson they will remember.’

  The headman argued. ‘But they have Nagas! They are supernatural, blood-thirsty killers! What chance do we have against such evil?’

  Shiva had the presence of mind to realise that superstition can only be countered by another stronger belief. He climbed the carriage pedestal to stand tall. The villagers stared at him. He ripped off his cravat and threw it away. He didn’t need it anymore.

  ‘I am the Neelkanth!’

  All the soldiers looked up at the destroyer of evil mesmerised. They were overjoyed to see him truly accept his destiny. The villagers who did not know of the Neelkanth’s arrival were stunned at seeing the legend come alive right before their eyes.

  ‘I am going to fight these terrorists,’ roared Shiva. ‘I am going to show them that we are not scared anymore. I am going to make them feel the pain we feel. I am going to let them know that Meluha is not going to roll over and let them do what they want.’

  Pure energy coursed through the huddled mass that sto
od in front of Shiva, straightening their spines and inspiring their souls.

  ‘Who’s coming with me?’

  ‘I am,’ bellowed Parvateshwar, feeling the suffocating restraints imposed on him fall away by Shiva’s pronouncement.

  ‘I am,’ echoed Sati, Nandi, Veerbhadra and Vraka.

  ‘I am,’ echoed every single soul standing there.

  Suddenly the scared villagers and soldiers were turned into a righteous army. The soldiers drew their swords. The villagers grabbed whatever weapons they could from the travelling armoury.

  ‘To Koonj,’ yelled Shiva, mounting a horse and galloping ahead.

  Parvateshwar and Sati quickly unharnessed the horses from the cart and raced behind Shiva. The Suryavanshis charged behind them, letting out a cry louder than any Naga conch shell. As they stormed into Koonj, the horror of what had transpired hit them. The Chandravanshis had ignored the rest of the village and concentrated on the area that would distress the Meluhans most - their venerated temple. Decapitated bodies of the Brahmins lay around the shrine. They had been clumped together and executed. The temple itself was ruthlessly destroyed and aflame. The sight of the gruesome attack enraged the Suryavanshis even more. They charged like crazed bulls. The Chandravanshis had no chance. They were completely outnumbered and overwhelmed. They lost ground quickly. Some of the Chandravanshis were beginning to retreat when the five Nagas rallied them back. They fought on against the crushing odds, clashing against the righteous Suryavanshis with unexpected courage.

  Parvateshwar fought like a man possessed. Shiva, who had never seen the General battle, was awed by his skill and valour. Like Shiva, Parvateshwar knew that the key to victory were the Nagas. As long as they were alive, the Suryavanshis would feel terrified and the Chandravanshis would draw inspiration from them. He attacked one of them with frenzied aggression.

  The Naga skilfully parried Parvateshwar’s attack with his shield. Bringing his sword down, he tried to strike Parvateshwar’s exposed shoulder. What he didn’t know was that Parvateshwar had deliberately left his flank exposed. Swinging to the side to avoid the blow, Parvateshwar let his shield clap to his back as he swiftly drew a knife held in a clip behind. He hurled it at the Naga’s exposed right shoulder. His cry let Parvateshwar know that the knife had penetrated deep.