Agniputr

by Vadhan

  Strangely, the castle was glowing like a gem. All the floodlights were on; they lit up most of the village as well. There wasn’t even a semblance of shadow to use. He knew he couldn’t hope to get anywhere near the castle, not with the armed gunmen roaming the grounds like hyenas in heat.

  He wondered if Gudem had declared war on India. He used the cover of a tree which was at a distance from the castle, outside the reach of the flood lamps and called a number.

  ‘Saroo, they are hereoo, in the castleoo,’ he whispered. The person on the other side apparently had difficulty in understanding his heavily Telugu accented English.

  ‘Do you know Hindi?’

  ‘Yesu Saroo.’

  ‘Then speak in Hindi.’ The man repeated himself in Hindi. After he had given his report, the spy took further instructions in silence. Soon he disconnected the phone.

  ‘I don’t care if its night or day,’ he mimicked the person he had been speaking with. ‘What if I cared? No one cares what I care,’ he muttered to himself in Telugu.

  The man sat down under the tree. He was far too much in the darkness for the gunmen to see him.

  Funny thing was, he had the prickly sensation of being watched...constantly.

  Not by a man either.

  The watcher was something else.

  He had never felt this before. The dread. The fear of the unknown lurking in the darkness. Maybe it was because he had not been in the presence of a predator bigger than himself ever before.

  He was always the unseen watcher. Now, the tables were reversed.

  He was a watcher.

  He knew when he was being watched.

  When he was the game.

  The hunted.

  The Sable Parch could smell the spy’s blood.

  To the Parch, the man was only blood flowing to different parts of his anatomy. A flowing, walking, liquid. It had been on the hunt for some time, waiting for the one who had more than blood in his veins. The rest of them did not interest it; they were nothing more than food.

  The creature sidled and rolled closer to the man. Dried leaves cracked under its weight. The spy was instantly alert. Without warning he switched on his flashlight and trained the beam towards the direction of the sound. With a grunt, the Parch moved back into the comfort of the dark night.

  The spy saw something. Of that, he was sure. Exactly what it was he did not know. It was shiny, like crystal and it was mishapen. He also knew that there was no such animal in the world.

  In a fraction of a second he was up and running towards the castle. The Parch chased after him. It grasped his leg in a viselike grip, crushed the tender cartilage above his ankle, making the spy scream.

  Spot lights from the castle found the man thrashing wildly on the ground. There was no sign of the Sable Parch, only his incoherent screams for help to a couple of burly gunmen who dragged him into the castle.

  SHEILA wanted her team in the castle rather than in Javaaram. The reason: They had decided to explore the memorial hall the next day, in secrecy. Vidush and Priyanka were sprawled on the soft sofas, each holding a glass of liquor. While Vidush was sipping whisky, Priyanka held a goblet of white wine which was untouched.

  In the corridor, Raghuram Surya was on the phone in animated conversation.

  ‘Did you get the documents I sent you this morning?’

  Raghu listened.

  ‘Have it filed as an exhibit in the interlocutory application. Let’s see what they say to that. I am surprised someone in Vijayawada agreed to represent them against me,’ he said without the least bit of conceit, it was a just a matter of fact. He listened some more.

  ‘Yes, I know about my cousins filing a case against me. I knew it would come to this, which is why I made sure you got copies of the documents. Thank you, sir. I will call you back tomorrow.’

  He disconnected his mobile phone and pocketed it. Poti, who was standing at a respectable distance, now stepped up to Raghu. The tall lawyer had to bend a bit so Poti could whisper into his ears. He nodded.

  ‘Did you tell Major Kant you were going to the castle?’ Sheila asked Priyanka.

  ‘No Ma’am, we told him we were returning to Delhi. We had the car drop us off at the station like you asked us to.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘What’s happening ma’am? I thought Mr. Surya was the... enemy, why are we drinking wine in his house?’ Priyanka whispered.

  Sheila smiled. Priyanka had never seen Sheila smile.

  ‘Don’t worry, Raghu is not going to bite your head off. Just...keep your distance with him,’ she warned Priyanka. The thought of Raghu being attracted to her pretty assistant made Sheila unreasonably irritated.

  ‘Yeah sure, ma’am, but what are we doing here?’

  ‘Trying to learn Sanskrit for one. We need to figure out what a particular Sanskrit sentence means. We also need to figure out how to use something called the Agniputr and to do all of this without attracting the attention of our mentor, the Home Minister, we need this castle and Raghu’s hospitality.’

  Priyanka considered all of this for a moment.

  ‘And why shouldn’t we let the Home Minister know?’

  ‘Because the way he’s going about it till now is all wrong.’

  ‘What’s wrong with what he’s doing, ma’am?’

  ‘There’s nothing I can prove, it’s more like a gut feel.’

  ‘I thought we are scientists. We run on facts and figures!’

  Sheila said, ‘Consider, he ought to have conferred with Raghu about the phenomenon, instead he requisitioned his property. He doesn’t want to disclose anything about this to anyone, even to his own colleagues in the government. He’s run this project like it was his private enterprise. Just the other day he was speaking to Raghu’s cousins about fighting against him. He’s using their old family feud to make brothers fight each other. What good will all this do?’

  ‘Ma’am with all due respect, you were wary of Raghu in the beginning. I don’t see anything wrong with what the Minister did. He is most probably protecting a national treasure and I am sure he would unveil it at the appropriate time. Why should he disclose anything to Raghu?’

  ‘Good point Priyanka...’ Raghu intervened, ‘except for one or two small details. The company that was floated for this project is a public-private venture. Now, the private partner is a subsidiary of Kiromal Industries. Did you know that?’

  Priyanka appeared shocked, ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘I am a lawyer, you see, I did my research. Secondly, your car driver is not really a car driver. He is a local spook, an undercover agent. He holds the rank of inspector of police. He was playing the role of your chauffeur all this time. He was specifically assigned to shadow you guys. He just did not drop you off at the railway station in Eluru. He followed you to Gudem. Now why would he do that?’

  Priyanka rose from her sofa.

  ‘How do you know all this?’

  ‘Because, right now he’s here.’

  ‘What?’

  Raghu shrugged and eased himself into a straight backed chair.

  ‘What did you tell him?’

  He smiled, ‘The truth. A great lawyer once said, truth may be difficult but it’s a very powerful weapon if you know how to use it.’

  ‘Who said that?’ Vidush asked.

  ‘He was called Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi.’

  ‘And how did you use the truth?’

  Raghu shrugged again. ‘We told him that Kiromal is trying to take over my property. We asked him, very sweetly, not to say a thing to anyone about the both of you heading for the castle or about any further developments until such time that we ask him to.’

  ‘Isn’t that suppression?’

  ‘It’s not a lie, is it?’

  ‘What if they ask him?’

  Raghu shook his head. ‘He’s just gone on sick leave.’

  ‘Well now, if that isn’t the truth and the whole truth?’ Priyanka said sarcastically.

  ‘No, he is injure
d. His nose is bleeding because he fell on the ground rather hard and he’s got a crushed ankle bone.’

  Sheila asked, ‘How did that happen?’

  ‘Not sure...but if I have to accept his explanation, I don’t rank as the only one to have escaped the Sable Parch after tonight.’

  Sheila and Priyanka gave Raghu hard stares. ‘Are you telling us the truth?’

  Raghu laughed heartily, ‘What do you think, I had the man beaten up and then threatened?’

  ‘Well, that’s what feudal warlords are supposed to do, right? The man’s in your house, spying on you, apparently, duh!’ Priyanka observed.

  Raghu laughed again, ‘In which case, I am justified in having him restrained for spying on me. I did not do that, the reason being that he is a policeman.’

  ‘Ok Mr. Lawyer. So what did you do?’

  ‘I had Poti speak to him. He’s from one of my villages and he agreed to go off duty for a few hours until such time we go into the memorial hall. I’ve bought you time. He’s eating right now and will be my guest until he stays here.’

  ‘Your prisoner, you mean?’

  ‘He’s free to go whenever he chooses to, Priyanka. He doesn’t have anything to fear from me. I wouldn’t hurt my own. He is a cop and one can’t hold a cop against his will, that’s their prerogative. He just chose not to be available for comment. The safest place for him right now is inside the castle.’

  Priyanka seemed far from being mollified.

  ‘I want to see him.’

  Raghu nodded to Poti.

  ‘Poti will take you.’

  ‘No, you’ll do away with me too. I want him in this room.’

  ‘Then I’d have to do away with all of you. Is that difficult for a guy with a house full of gunmen?’

  Priyanka swallowed.

  Raghu laughed again.

  ‘Bring Shekhar here,’ he said to Poti.

  ‘What the Hell is an Agniputr?’ Vidush asked all of a sudden. His whisky glass was nearly empty and his eyes were full of its effect.

  ‘Isn’t that what that crazy old man said the other day? Why don’t we just go out and ask him?’

  ‘Because he is dead!’ Sheila reminded. The team was already briefed about everything that transpired but Vidush needed reminding, thanks to the whisky.

  ‘Oh! Yes, I forgot that, death can cause communication failure,’ Vidush agreed.

  ‘You called for me Babu Garu?’ The middle-aged man in a stained brown shirt and dark pants was standing at the door. His leg was bandaged.

  Raghu nodded to Priyanka. The girl stalked up to the man.

  ‘So what is this sentence?’ Vidush asked Sheila.

  ‘Do you know Sanskrit?’

  ‘Not a shingle word, I shwear,’ he blurted out.

  Sheila gave her assistant a withering look.

  ‘We need to find someone who does know Sanskrit.’

  ‘I can get the priest from the village temple if you want me to,’ Poti offered.

  ‘That’s an idea, go get him,’ Raghu ordered with a flick of his wrist.

  ‘What, now?’ Sheila asked.

  ‘Sure, he’ll come,’ Poti said. He called a number from his mobile phone and spoke in a low voice. In the meanwhile, Priyanka had made a quiet entry into the room.

  ‘Well?’ Sheila asked her.

  ‘Mr. Raghuram didn’t lie,’ Priyanka said in a meek voice. She threw Raghu a shy glance. ‘I am sorry...really.’

  ‘It’s ok...someone said to me a few hours ago that we need to be open with each other if we have to work together,’ the lawyer said with a quick smile.

  Their wait lasted about twenty minutes before a short rotund man with inquisitive eyes and a benevolent air about him stepped hesitantly into the room. He was in a white kurta and dhoti.

  ‘Namaskaram Babu Garu, you wanted to see me?’ he said.

  ‘Namaskaram Shastri Garu,’ Raghu said in Telugu, ‘these are my friends. We wanted something translated from Sanskrit.’

  ‘Of course Babu Garu, it would be my privilege,’ said the priest in a hushed voice.

  It was the first time the priest had ever been summoned to the castle and he was in awe. He kept peering from the stuffed tiger mounted on the veranda wall to the stuffed head of a gazelle mounted on the wall in the visitor’s hall, as if the tiger might leap for the gazelle at any moment without any worry about collateral damage.

  ‘Please take a seat,’ Raghu offered. The priest positioned himself so Raghu was between him and the mounted tiger.

  Raghu nodded to Sheila who handed over Rathaya’s cloth to the priest.

  Sheila said, ‘I just hope you’re able to hold Kiromal off until we examine the phenomenon.’

  Raghu smiled, ‘Trust me.’

  Sheila was sure that was easy. She didn’t say it though.

  The priest intervened with a gentle cough.

  ‘The sentence means ‘Agni with one syllable won speech’,’ he said in Telugu.

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Babu Garu, it is the first of the incantations of success in the Black Yajurveda.’

  Raghu translated for the group.

  ‘I thought there were only four Vedas,’ said Sheila.

  ‘Amma Garu, there are two Yajurvedas,’ said the priest, this time in halting English. ‘One was known as white Yajurveda and the other Krishna Yajurveda, Krishna means dark or black. Therefore, it’s also called the Black Yajurveda.’

  ‘Agni with one syllable won speech. What is the syllable?’ Sheila asked, cutting to the chase.

  The godman shook his head, disclosing he had no knowledge of it.

  ‘Who will tell us?’

  ‘Babu, we have read the shlokas. However, some of them are inexplicable to us. The knowledge behind them is lost. There are only a handful who can interpret it for you. Mind it, it would only be an interpretation, not the exact meaning.’

  ‘Do you know anyone who can help us?’

  ‘You can try Tirupati, or Kalahasti or Rameswaram or Varanasi. There are learned men in these great places. Also, they have libraries.’

  ‘Shastri Garu, thank you for coming.’

  The priest offered his namastes to the gathering and turned away.

  ‘The more answers we get the more questions we have. Let’s hope we find some answers tomorrow,’ Raghu observed.

  ‘Babu, remember, Rathaya had said that no one should enter the memorial at night. We must be out of that place before nightfall,’ Poti observed from the background.

  ‘We?’ Sheila interjected.

  ‘You’ll need protection. We don’t know what’s inside that place. It sounds strange that I don’t know what’s lurking in my own house,’ Raghu observed, a little sadly. ‘In the meanwhile ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served.’

  Later in the night, Sheila was propped up on her pillows, deep in thought. The unfamiliar noises of the night, the crickets chattering away, the hoot of the owl, the buzz of fireflies outside her window, all of them distracted her from sleep. She was a city girl used to air-conditioned rooms and sanitised apartments. Sleeping alone in a dark room in a sprawling old building in the middle of nowhere needed adjusting to. Especially because something called the Sable Parch was prowling the night.

  She pondered if the next day might be her last, or if the reputation of the dreaded hall was just a myth. Raghuram was on her mind, the tall lawyer dominated her thoughts most of the time. Was he for real? What did he really want from her? Was she just another woman to him? She liked him. He was a protector by nature. A king amongst men by default. But the streak of amorality in him puzzled her. It was completely at odds with his otherwise straight forward nature. Was he straight forward really or was it all an act?

  There was a soft knock on her door. Sheila got up glibly from her bed, hoping it was him.

  ‘Who is it?’ she demanded.

  ‘Shhh... Let me in.’

  She opened the door and Raghu stood there in his kurta and pyjamas.

  �
��What do you want?’ Sheila asked. She had hoped it would be him. Now that he was standing in her room, she did not like it. What would he think of her if she gave in to his advances? She did not want to be just another sexual conquest he would not remember the next day.

  Raghu appeared equally ill at ease. ‘I... I couldn’t go to sleep, I thought we could talk...about...you know, stuff.’

  ‘Raghu, I am not one of your fancy girls,’ she said sternly, ‘I wish you’d stop doing this.’

  He appeared startled.

  ‘I didn’t wan... I am sorry, my mistake...good night.’

  He turned away. Sheila wanted desperately to ask him to stay. She wanted him in her life and in her bed. She was sure of it. But not yet. She stood there a long time after he was gone, wishing he would return. Unsure if she’d let him in anyway.

  CHAPTER 23

  IT was eight in the morning by the time they assembled at the doors of the memorial hall. The three scientists were lost in an inexplicable pall of gloom even though they were at the threshold of a discovery. Their breakfast had been left largely untouched and the fact that it might well be their last breakfast did nothing to facilitate an appetite.

  They dragged themselves into the Xenon, though they could very well have walked the half a kilometre to the memorial grounds. Raghu followed them, more or less like a vampire on hunger strike. Poti and Ramdas loped double barrelled shotguns. Twin cartridge belts were criss-crossed across their chests like Mexican bandits in an old west movie. They did not show the slightest sign of nervousness, in fact, their faces were inscrutable.

  They glowered at the doors of the memorial hall for a time, like prisoners outside a hated prison before they took up residence within its cold walls. Raghuram edged a hand towards one of the wooden doors of the memorial hall and pushed it, tentatively at first; the door did not budge. He pressed harder with the same result.

  He stepped back and indicated for Ramdas to try his luck. The sturdy Commander of Guards rammed his foot against the door. It creaked open reluctantly to reveal a rectangular and apparently empty hall. Sunlight poured copiously through the tall windows that flanked both sides of the hall. Starting from about five feet from the ground the windows stretched all the way up to five feet from the ceiling.