Son of Bhrigu

by CHRISTOPHER C. DOYLE

  ‘Which mantra was it?’

  Maya began reciting.

  ‘Shaanta-kaaram bhujaga-shayanam padma-naabham suresham

  vishwa-dhaaram gagana-sadrisham megha-varanam shubhaangam.

  lakshmi-kaantam kamala-nayanam yogi-bhi-dhyaana-agamyam

  vande vishnum bhava-bhaya-haram sarva-lokaika-naatham’

  Tiwari was impressed. Maya’s intonation was perfect and he could feel the power of the mantra coursing through his body, the resonance of the vowels and consonants melting into a current that ran through his muscles, his blood and his brain, caressing and relaxing them. An instant feeling of peace and calm settled over him and he basked in the effect of the mantra for a few moments, enjoying the invigorating sense of peace.

  Finally, almost reluctantly, he spoke. ‘That’s interesting. You could be onto something here. That’s exactly the same mantra that I recited for you just before you went to sleep in my house. You were tired, scared, and your mind was filled with all kinds of unpleasant thoughts, so I recited this mantra — the shantaa-kaaram mantra to help you relax.’

  ‘It isn’t Shukra,’ Maya absently insisted.

  ‘I know. Now, tell me one thing. What were you thinking of when you had your out of body experience last night?’

  Chapter Fifty-eight

  Maya’s Plan

  The Guesthouse

  The Gurukul

  Maya stood on the balcony attached to her room and savoured the fresh night air. It was such a refreshing change from the city. The quiet stillness of the forest around them, the rustling of the leaves on the trees that shaded the Gurukul during the day, the transparent darkness that settled over the cottages once the artificial lights were switched off, and the canopy of stars far above — glowing orbs, millions of miles away scattering their light; this was a world far removed from life in a big city where the dust, pollution, noise and bright lights overshadowed and overwhelmed the quiet beauty of nature.

  It was true, she reflected, that humans, in their endeavour to conquer the earth, had only managed to distance themselves from it.

  She had begun to realize why this location had been chosen for the Gurukul. She was certain that the other Gurukuls, too, were located in similar spots. It was the perfect place for youngsters like her, and the other children in the Gurukul, to discover themselves in the solitude that the place offered, while staying connected to other human beings. If they had to discover their inner power, as Jignesh continued to exhort her to do, there was no better place to do it — with no distractions or temptations of any kind.

  But Maya was distracted. She knew it and she was aware that Jignesh was not blind to it either. The meditation classes with Mahesh were helping — they enabled her to centre herself and focus on her inner energies. They had helped to soothe the trauma she had undergone just a few days back. But even meditation was not sufficient to quell a strange restlessness within her. She didn’t know where it came from or why it was there, but it tugged at her continuously, like a dull, nagging headache; only in this case, there was no pain, just a need for action.

  But what that action was, she didn’t know.

  She did have her suspicions about the source of her restlessness. Maya felt that the diary may have something to do with it. While the pain caused by the loss of her father had been dulled somewhat by the meditation, the mystery of the diary had not been solved. Her father’s last words echoed repeatedly in her ears. He had wanted her to do something. But he had not managed to tell her what it was that she was supposed to do.

  And that disturbed her. She felt responsible, somehow, for completing what her father had started but had not been able to conclude. She wanted closure; she wanted her father to achieve closure.

  Tonight’s chat with Ratan had given her an idea; a possible means to accomplish this. Despite what the Council had said, she still believed that the Gandharvas might hold the key to translating the undecipherable pages in her father’s diary. She had no way of getting to them, however. At least, no traditional way. But, if Tiwari was right, then she did have a way of reaching the Gandharvas.

  And she planned to try it tonight.

  Wistfully, she took a long deep breath of the forest air and entered her room, shutting and bolting the balcony door behind her.

  It was time.

  She switched off the lights, determined to do this properly. It had to work and she was taking no chances.

  Settling herself on the bed in a meditative stance, she closed her eyes and began reciting the shantaa-kaaram mantra. The instant sense of calm that she was by now accustomed to, every time she chanted the mantra, penetrated every fibre of her being and her breathing slowed as she relaxed in mind and body.

  The mantra completed, she lay down, prepared to sleep.

  Tonight, she knew where she was going.

  Within moments, she was asleep.

  Maya began dreaming. To her astonishment, this time she knew that it was not a dream. She was fully aware, as she rose out of her body and looked down upon it from the ceiling of her room, that this was real. It was actually happening.

  Recalling her conversation, earlier that evening with Tiwari, she guided her thoughts, with some difficulty, towards the Gandharvas. It didn’t happen automatically as she had thought it would.

  The Gandharva valley.

  It was difficult to stay focused. Satyavachana, her home in Delhi, her school, the forest outside, the river Ken, and myriad other thoughts jostled with the thought of the Gandharvas. Maya fought to maintain her concentration.

  But nothing happened.

  She remained suspended above her bed, staring down at her physical body, deep in slumber.

  Or was it dead? She couldn’t make out the difference. After all, if her atma was the essence of her being and it was now out of her body, didn’t that mean that her physical body was dead?

  Another thought to wrestle with. She pushed it aside.

  The Gandharva valley.

  Again, nothing happened.

  Maya tried again and again, to no avail. She couldn’t understand it. Ratan had said that the atma could travel at the speed of thought, guided by thought. And that had been her experience on earlier occasions. Just the thought of a person or a location and she had been transported away.

  Why was it not happening tonight?

  Finally, unable to comprehend what was happening, and overwhelmed by a feeling of being drained of energy, she gave up and returned to her body. For some reason, tonight she did not wake up with a jerk.

  Maya slept peacefully.

  Chapter Fifty-nine

  Looking for Answers

  Day Eight

  The Gurukul

  Maya spent a restless day, despite having slept soundly last night. She was distracted and unable to resolve the conundrum of why she had failed to guide her own spirit using her thoughts. She had managed easily enough when she didn’t know what she was doing, so why was it suddenly difficult? It wasn’t possible that Ratan was wrong or that he had misled her in any way.

  It was clear to her that she was missing something vital that was a prerequisite to achieve what she had been trying to do. Somehow, she had been able to do it unconsciously — though why that should happen was a mystery to her — but not when she was fully aware. It didn’t make sense that she had to be unconscious of where she wanted to go to be able to travel at the speed of thought. That would be of no use at all. And Ratan, in his explanation to her, had implied that thoughts could guide the atma.

  So why had it not happened last night?

  Her distraction earned her reprimands through the day. First, during meditation class. Just yesterday, Mahesh had complimented her on her powers of concentration.

  ‘For someone who has just entered the Gurukul, you show tremendous focus,’ he had told her. ‘You will be able to tap into your innermost consciousness with practice. Few people are able to achieve that.’

  Arjun had rolled his eyes at Mahesh’s compliments, but
Maya had been thrilled to bits. She was, after all, still an outsider, unlike Arjun. Her powers and her very presence here were constantly being questioned. To be complimented in this manner was a privilege and she relished it.

  But today was completely different. Her preoccupation with her failed attempt at atma travel the night before interfered with her concentration and focus.

  And Mahesh had noticed.

  ‘If you do not clear your mind of all the clutter, all the attachments, all the thoughts that are flowing through it,’ he admonished her, ‘how will you achieve perfect focus? You are not trying hard enough, Maya!’

  Maya had sulked, even though she knew, deep in her heart, that Mahesh was correct.

  ‘You okay?’ Arjun had enquired, looking concerned, before leaving for his training sessions with Virendra.

  Maya had simply nodded, angry with herself for allowing the distraction to get the better of her, and for having failed last night. A nagging doubt had crept into her mind.

  Had the Council been correct in their doubts regarding her?

  Her frustration and self-doubt persisted through the day, earning her more reprimands from Jignesh. His scathing remarks didn’t help in improving her mood either.

  By evening, Maya’s mood was positively black. To make things worse, she didn’t see Arjun in the Gurukul mess at dinnertime. It was the only time of the day when they would meet and she looked forward to their brief interaction over dinner, as they exchanged notes and cribbed about the rigour at the Gurukul.

  As Maya sat down for dinner by herself, a novice just slightly younger than her came up to her table.

  ‘Can I sit with you?’ the novice asked shyly.

  Maya recognized her as the girl who had led her to her room in the guesthouse on the night of her arrival at the Gurukul. She suppressed her black mood and put on a smile for the girl.

  ‘Sure, why not?’

  ‘My name’s Amyra. I know yours.’

  Maya smiled at Amyra. ‘So you’re a Rishi?’ she asked, a bit pointlessly. Amyra wore white robes; quite clearly she was a Rishi. But Maya couldn’t think of anything else to say to her.

  ‘Yes,’ Amyra giggled. She looked around furtively and lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Still a novice, though. And I have a special gift.’

  ‘And what’s that?’ Maya was genuinely interested now.

  ‘I’m a psychic,’ came the whispered response.

  ‘Oh, you can see the future?’

  ‘No, not that type of psychic. I can’t see the future. But I can see the past.’

  Maya was puzzled. ‘How is that a gift?’

  Amyra shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I was told, when I was enrolled, that it is a gift.’

  ‘Wait a minute, do you mean that you can see the past even if you weren’t there?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Amyra sounded surprised that Maya hadn’t understood the first time. ‘Though I can only see back into the past up to a certain limit. I still haven’t worked out how far back into the past I can see.’

  ‘Mmmm.’ Maya couldn’t really see how that was terribly useful, but she refrained from saying so. Clearly, Amyra was proud of her gift and she didn’t want to dampen her spirits.

  ‘Are you a novice, too?’ Amyra was curious.

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Maya tried to keep the tension out of her voice. Amyra had touched a raw nerve, which was accentuated by her already bleak mood. ‘They haven’t told me.’

  ‘I was wondering why you are still at the guesthouse. Only guests stay there. Students are assigned a dormitory on the first day. Will you be leaving us soon?’

  ‘I hope not. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some work to do.’ Maya rose without waiting for an answer and left the mess hall, blinking back her tears and suppressing the feelings of anger and hurt, accentuated by self-doubt, that were bubbling up inside.

  She made her way to the archives. Gurumurthy was there, his usual smiling self. Maya nodded at him in greeting and rushed past so that he wouldn’t notice her half-hearted attempt to smile at him. Heading for the database laptops, she sat at one and began searching. Presently, she found the location of a couple of books that she felt would help her.

  Retrieving the books, she returned to Gurumurthy. ‘I know it is late, but I need to read these tonight,’ she told him, a pleading look in her eyes. ‘Can I please borrow these just for tonight? I promise I will return them tomorrow.’

  Gurumurthy regarded her sagely, then took the books from her and studied them. ‘Hmmm,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘A bit advanced for you, don’t you think?’ He looked up at her. ‘Whatever you are planning, my dear, be careful.’

  His eyes were learned and wise, and in their depths, Maya could see a host of questions.

  Maya nodded numbly, chastened by his warning. Without a word, Gurumurthy stamped the books and handed them back to her.

  ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight,’ Maya mumbled in reply and stumbled out of the cottage housing the archives.

  Back in her room, Maya opened the books with trembling hands and began reading.

  Time flew past as she sat immersed in the books. There was so much to learn, so much she didn’t know. So much that the world outside the Gurukul didn’t know. Gurumurthy’s warning made sense to her. If she was not careful, she could do herself serious harm.

  But, she reflected, she didn’t intend anything complicated. All she was looking for were answers.

  After a couple of hours of unbroken research, she found what she was looking for.

  When she finally shut the books, her eyes were shining.

  She knew why she had failed to guide her atma to the Gandharva valley last night by means of her thoughts.

  Chapter Sixty

  Arjun Reflects

  Day Ten

  The Gurukul

  The last few days had gone by in a rush for Arjun. Virendra had pushed him hard with several hours of practice and hard exercise in the gym every day.

  ‘There’s no point in getting your technique right if you don’t have the strength and stamina to last out on the battlefield,’ Arjun’s uncle told him. Virendra’s own physique and stamina, at his age, was testimony to the fact that he walked the talk. The man didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. He was all rippling muscles. There were times when Arjun was glad that Virendra was his uncle. He would have hated to come up against him in a battle. Or, even in a fight on the street.

  Arjun had gamely slaved on, uncomplaining, though he cribbed about it to Maya, every evening when they met briefly, for dinner in the Gurukul mess. That was the only time he ever got to see her these days. And she, too, was exhausted by the time she arrived at the mess. Arjun had heard from her about the rigorous mental exercises that Jignesh was making her undergo in an attempt to develop her yogic powers and also understand how much of them Maya really possessed. However tired they may be, Arjun and Maya both looked forward to their chat over dinner — it seemed to be the only thread binding them now.

  Life had changed so much for them. From being carefree ninth graders — with no board exams to look forward to, thanks to the CBSE board — to this hard life of struggle. Arjun had the additional burden of knowing that he was being groomed for a much larger responsibility. His father, whom he had never known, had been the leader of the Kshatriyas and that mantle now rested on his shoulders.

  The problem was that he hadn’t the foggiest notion of what that meant. Or what he was supposed to do.

  There were times when he really missed being back at school. He even managed to feel nostalgic about Sumitra’s dreary classes. He and Maya had chuckled over a few jokes about her one night at dinner.

  ‘I’m going to find a mantra,’ Maya had said determinedly, ‘that will make Sumitra disappear.’

  She grinned at the thought, picturing Sumitra disappearing in a puff of smoke.

  ‘The school will thank you,’ Arjun had chuckled. ‘They’ll put up a statue of you and hang a garland around you once a year a
t annual day. Heh!’

  ‘Right. And for the rest of the year, pigeons would do their bit on my head — I mean, my statue’s head. Thanks a lot, AJ!’

  However, such lighthearted moments were few and far in between. Mostly, he was too tired to even think.

  In his heart, he suspected that his uncle had a solid reason for driving him so hard. He had never been such a tough taskmaster earlier. Ever. At times he wondered what his uncle had in mind. And at times he didn’t want to know. He had a nasty feeling it would turn out to be a surprise he didn’t want.

  It was strange, Arjun thought, that his life and Maya’s had changed so much in just a week. And yet, in many ways, nothing had changed. The environment had changed, the people who set the rules were different and the context was no longer the same.

  But, on the ground, he — and Maya, too, he reflected — had no more independence over their lives than they had had back in Delhi when they were at school.

  In Delhi, they were bound by school rules. Here, it was the rules of the Gurukul. His uncle and mother had made all the decisions in Delhi. That hadn’t changed. If anything, they were stricter now. There had been a couple of days, when he had faced the wrath of his uncle because had not felt like practicing.

  ‘I just don’t feel like working out,’ Arjun had complained. ‘I’m not in the mood.’

  ‘Do you think Arjuna from the Mahabharata had the luxury of saying that?’ his uncle had thundered, his face black with anger. ‘He probably had his off days; we all do. But, when you are a Kshatriya, your Dharma comes first. You have a responsibility. Nothing else matters.’

  ‘Well, I’m not Arjuna,’ Arjun had retorted, ‘I mean, I am Arjun, but not the dude in the Mahabharata. He was Indra’s son. I’m not.’ His retort had riled his uncle even more.

  But the earful he got from Virendra only made it all seem even more unfair. No one had asked him if he wanted the responsibility. It had been thrust upon him whether he liked it or not. And there were times — many occasions — when he didn’t like it. He didn’t want to be the leader of the Kshatriyas. He just wanted to curl up in the shade of the trees by the river and read a book.