‘Yes.’ Nirav nodded.
Just then the door to the small lounge in Nirav’s basement office opened and Aditya walked in. He looked at Nirav and smiled. ‘Oops!’ he exclaimed. ‘I am sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.’
‘That’s okay. Come on in.’ Nirav waved Aditya over to one of the chairs.
‘I thought Divya was with you. I am supposed to pick her up from here.’
‘She is about to reach. She got held up at home.’ He turned towards Subhash. ‘Meet Aditya, a good friend of Divya,’ he said with a note of pride in his voice, and then went on to introduce Subhash as a long-standing acquaintance.
‘How do you do, young man?’ Subhash said as he shook hands with Aditya. ‘What do you do?’
‘I just finished a jewellery design course, sir,’ Aditya replied diffidently. ‘Figuring out the next course of action.’
‘With Nirav here that bit should be easy. No?’
Aditya smiled. He didn’t like the idea of using Nirav’s status and connections when it came to his career. ‘Or maybe just that much difficult,’ he said. ‘He is a towering personality. Intimidating too at times.’
‘Hahaha. That is true. You used the right words. Towering! Intimidating! He knows you so well, Nirav.’ Subhash smiled at his friend. ‘But you missed out one word, my boy: Influential.’
‘Rubbish!’ Nirav laughed.
‘He is one of the most influential jewellers I know. Be it wielding influence on his family, his clients, his business colleagues, this man can sway almost anyone.’
‘Don’t believe him, Aditya.’ Nirav laughed.
Subhash shook his head. ‘The day he decides to move from here, trust me, Aditya, the whole of Zaveri Bazaar will follow him.’
‘I am sure.’ Aditya just smiled. He didn’t know what else to say. The direction the conversation was taking was making him uncomfortable.
‘Yes, yes. Absolutely! The converse is also true. No one will leave Zaveri Bazaar until he does.’ He laughed. ‘And as far as your career is concerned, whatever you decide to do, I am sure you will be successful. Let me know if I can help in any way.’
‘Sure, sir.’
‘In case you need any space to start up on your own, don’t hesitate to ask. I can offer you some free space in Mumbai. I have also just bought some land, about twenty-five acres, in Surat. So irrespective of the scale of your operations, I will be able to offer you something there too.’
‘Thank you so much for the offer, sir. I’ll definitely let you know,’ Aditya said. At that precise moment his phone rang. ‘Hey!’ he said, taking the call. ‘Yes, yes. I’m coming out. See you in ten minutes.’ He got up. ‘Divya is here. I need to run. She won’t be able to park.’ He shook hands with Nirav and Subhash and walked out of the office.
‘Nice fellow,’ Subhash remarked. ‘It’s difficult to find guys like these, these days.’
Nirav just smiled. The two of them gossiped for an hour more before Subhash finally stood up, pleading another appointment.
‘I’ll see you in Thiruvananthapuram,’ he said as he left. ‘In a fortnight?’
‘Given government procedures, not before two months,’ said Nirav as he waved him off.
30
THIRUVANANTHAPURAM
45 days later
The security around the Anantha Padmanabha Swamy Temple was airtight. The public had been barred from entering the temple for the first half of the day. Dharmaraja Varma had visited the temple early in the morning to update the lord, albeit notionally, on the key happenings in his kingdom. And today there was an important update that he had had to give.
There was a sudden bustle in the gathered crowd when four Ambassadors followed by three Kerala Police vans turned left from the arterial Mahatma Gandhi Road on to the Padmanabha Swamy Temple Road. The pilot car crossed the arch marking the intersection of the two roads and drove for another 150 metres. The crowd was getting restless; some of them even started shouting slogans.
The motorcade drove past the Ramachandran Street crossing. The Padma Teertha Kulam, the sacred pond of the temple, came into view on the right. The cavalcade slowed down and finally came to a stop outside the clock tower a short distance from the temple gates.
Vikram Rai stepped out of the pilot car and looked around him. His gaze rested for a moment on the weed-infested dirty green water of the Padma Teertha Kulam. T.P.R. Krishnan, the director general of police, Kerala, emerged from the other side of the car. Since this was a high-visibility operation, his team was involved right from the beginning.
‘Methan Mani, the clock tower,’ Krishnan volunteered when he noticed Vikram observing the building to their left. On top of the building was a huge clock.
Vikram nodded. The clock tower had a very peculiar look to it. ‘What is that?’ he asked, pointing towards something on top of the clock.
‘It’s a bearded man, with two rams on the side of his cheeks,’ Krishnan explained. By then the others had also got out of their cars and gathered around. ‘Whenever the clock strikes, the rams hit the cheeks of the man.’ Krishnan smiled. ‘It’s operated through a highly complex pulley system that’s been operational for years.’
‘Interesting,’ Vikram commented.
‘And what is behind that?’ Ranjit Dubey asked, looking at the huge building behind the clock tower. Ranjit suffered from chronic diabetes; his kidneys were in bad shape. The sight of water would trigger a tingling sensation in his body and make him want to rush to the bathroom. He had agreed to join the team because he needed the money that came with the job.
‘That’s the Swati Thirunal Palace.’ Krishnan didn’t volunteer any further information. He was the DGP, not a tourist guide.
Ahead of them was the imposing gopuram of the Anantha Padmanabha Swamy Temple. ‘Shall we?’ he asked and started walking towards the temple. He was one of those who did not subscribe to what the court-appointed auditors had come to do. Yet he was duty-bound to provide them protection.
Just as they were entering the temple they were stopped by a temple official, who was glowering at Ranjit Dubey.
Krishnan glanced at Ranjit. ‘You need to tie it on top of your trousers,’ he clarified, pointing at his veshti, ‘and make sure it falls below your knees.’
All the team members had worn a veshti on top of their trousers. Temple rules prohibited anyone not wearing a veshti from entering the temple premises. Everyone had worn it properly, except for Ranjit who was not used to a dhoti and had worn it in a very peculiar manner.
As they approached the temple gates, Dharmaraja Varma walked out, leaning on his walking stick, to receive them along with the temple trustee. When he saw Rajan in their midst, the king was consumed by anger. However, he recovered quickly and by the time he reached them, he was smiling again. Pleasantries were exchanged, introductions made.
‘I have requested the trustee to escort you through the temple,’ Dharmaraja Varma said, smiling in a benevolent manner.
‘That won’t be necessary, Mr Varma,’ Vikram Rai said, politely declining the offer. ‘Mr Rajan will guide us through the temple. He knows everything about the temple and has been involved in its day-to-day affairs as well.’
Dharmaraja Varma was stumped by this refusal. And a little peeved at being addressed as ‘Mr Varma’ instead of Your Highness. He wanted to be in control of the flow of events and dissemination of information, but he was being kept out of it. More than anything else, he wanted to know what was going on.
‘There is no harm in Thirumanassu being a part of the team,’ Rajan said. ‘He is also the chief trustee of the temple.’
Vikram nodded and followed the trustee into the temple. They walked through the sanctum sanctorum, and then up to the mandapam where they offered prayers to Lord Anantha Padmanabha Swamy. There was an atmosphere of serenity inside the temple. At every stage the team was impressed with what it saw. Though centuries old, everything was gorgeous.
‘This is one of the one hundred and eight divya desams in
India,’ Rajan said.
‘Divya desams?’ Ranjit asked.
‘The sacred Vishnu temples as referred to by the Tamil azhvars,’ Rajan said. ‘Tamil saints,’ he added hurriedly when he saw the confused look on Ranjit’s face.
He took them around the temple and finally led them down a flight of steps to a dimly lit corridor. They crossed a large door made of thick planks of wood.
‘We are entering the vault area,’ Rajan explained as they walked ahead.
To their right was a door made of solid wood. Criss-crossing across the length and breadth of the door were iron strips lending strength to it. In the middle of the door, shaped like the sun, was a keyhole. The door had not been polished in a long while and there were cobwebs along the top.
‘This is the door to Vault F,’ Rajan said as they walked past the door.
‘Aren’t we opening it?’ Nirav stopped and asked.
‘Not unless you want to,’ Rajan replied. ‘This vault has been opened and closed a number of times. I would be surprised if we found anything of substance inside it. In fact Vaults C to F have been opened and closed at will. That’s what prompted this litigation. Now that we have sealed them all, we can come back to this one after the more important tasks have been completed.’ Rajan looked at Nirav intently and waited for a response. Nothing was forthcoming. This was the first time Nirav was involved in this kind of activity.
‘I think what he is saying makes sense.’ Vikram Rai put an end to the discussion. Rajan looked at Dharmaraja Varma and smiled. The latter just turned away.
They walked ahead and crossed three more similar-looking doors. Finally Rajan stopped in front of the fifth door. He turned towards the others. ‘This, gentlemen, is the first of the two vaults which we have been asked to open and see what’s inside.’
‘So this is Vault A?’ Subhash asked curiously. He remembered the two vaults being mentioned as Vaults A and B in the Supreme Court judgement.
‘Yes. That’s right,’ Dharmaraja Varma confirmed.
Ranjit slowly shook his legs and held them together tightly. He had been lagging behind for a bit, but then he hurried and caught up with the rest of them.
Unlike the other doors that they had seen so far, this one was a solid iron door and looked like it protected something precious.
‘This one needs two keys to open it,’ Rajan continued. ‘Two of three people—the king of Travancore, the treasurer and the trustee of the temple—have to be present for the vault to be opened.’
‘But it has not been opened in the recent past,’ Dharmaraja Varma protested. ‘At least not in my lifetime.’
‘When was it last opened?’ Vikram Rai asked. It was not an interrogation. Interrogating the king, or anyone else for that matter, was not in the purview of the task assigned to him by the Supreme Court. He was just curious.
‘There is no record of this vault ever being opened,’ the king responded. ‘Ever. So if we open it—’
‘When we open it,’ Rajan corrected him. ‘When. Not if.’
‘Yes, yes, of course!’ The king didn’t want to engage in a discussion. ‘When we open it, we might be the first in decades to do so.’
‘Hmm.’ A pensive Vikram Rai sighed. ‘Can you have the keys brought in?’ He looked at the king. ‘Right now.’ It did cross his mind that if the king was the administrator and the interested party too the chances of finding anything inside the vault were slim. But then, that was not for him to think about. He was there to do a job.
‘Do you want to open it now?’ Dharmaraja Varma panicked.
‘Is there a problem?’ Vikram asked. ‘Isn’t that what we are here for?’
‘I would strongly recommend against opening it today.’
Vikram was beginning to get irritated. ‘The reason being . . .?’
31
MUMBAI
The night before the team’s arrival at the Anantha Padmanabha Swamy Temple, the chief minister of Maharashtra was in a troubled mood when the police commissioner of Mumbai met with him. The news was not good. They had not had any significant breakthroughs in the Mumbai blasts case, and as a result no arrests had been made.
‘It’s been close to two months, Commissioner. We look like idiots in front of the public! Easy meat for the opposition. What is going on?’ the chief minister demanded.
‘The modus operandi of the perpetrators is very different. We checked out the usual suspects as well, but every one of them has a solid alibi. What do we do?’
‘Do you really care who did it?’ the chief minister asked, suddenly calm.
The commissioner looked at him, but didn’t say anything.
‘Answers! We need answers. No one really cares if they are right or wrong, as long as we have them.’
The commissioner’s lips curled into a sinister smile. ‘I understand, sir.’
The chief minister nodded. ‘The elections are in six months. Your next move is due in less than that,’ he said and walked off to his next meeting.
The next morning, while Vikram Rai was going with his team to the Anantha Padmanabha Swamy Temple, the commissioner of police, Mumbai, released a statement to the media:
In a raid conducted late last night in Dongri, the key perpetrators of the Mumbai blasts were arrested from their hideout. In the brief exchange of fire, two of the militants were killed. The operation was masterminded by the Laskhar-e-Taiba in collusion with the ISI of Pakistan. The government has been apprised of the situation. Any further course of action will be in consultation with the Central government. A state of alert has been declared all over Maharashtra.
Within a few minutes, the chief minister tweeted a congratulatory message to Mumbai Police. ‘Great job #mumbaipolice. Best in the country. An inspiration. Proud of the team.’
By evening, the tweet had been favourited 5831 times and retweeted 6749 times.
32
THIRUVANANTHAPURAM
‘As I just said, the vault has not been opened in decades,’ the king began.
‘So?’ Vikram demanded. He hated being stalled. Whenever he had asked questions during his tenure as the CAG of India, it was what people around him seemed to do.
‘The air inside the vault is bound to be stale. It could even be poisonous. After all, we don’t know what’s inside. Maybe we should open it only after adequate precautions have been taken.’
Vikram pondered over the king’s words. ‘You’re right. We need to be armed with oxygen cylinders. Maybe have some fresh air pumped in so that the air inside is breathable.’
‘And an ambulance,’ Ranjit added. ‘Just in case.’
‘Let’s move on then,’ Vikram said, and they followed Rajan to Vault B.
‘Do the keys to Vault A also open Vault B?’ Subhash asked as they walked towards it.
‘There are no keys to Vault B,’ Dharmaraja Varma replied haughtily. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t do your research before coming to the temple.’
‘What?’ Subhash was surprised. So were the others.
‘See for yourself,’ the king said, pointing to the right.
As they turned to the right, their mouths fell open. In front of them was a towering door made of solid iron. It was roughly twelve feet by seven feet, much bigger than any other temple door that they had ever seen. On closer inspection, they realized that it was actually two doors that joined seamlessly in the middle. A snake was carved on each door, and together the pair of serpents appeared to be protecting the vault. There were scratches along the middle where the doors joined, but none too deep to suggest that the vault had ever been forced open.
‘There are no nuts, bolts or latches on the door. The seal was affixed to the vault by a naga bandham, a snake spell, by siddhapurushas. It can only be opened when one chants the Garuda Mantra.’
‘Let’s do that then,’ Subhash suggested.
Dharmaraja Varma glared at him, the way a teacher might glare at an errant student in class. ‘The Garuda Mantra is no ordinary mantra! Only highly erudite sadh
us who know how to extricate the naga bandham can chant it. If chanted correctly, the Garuda Mantra will drive away the serpents and clear the vault; the door will open automatically, without any human effort.’
‘Okay . . . so what will it take to get those individuals here?’
‘As of now there are no known siddhapurushas who can come and open the vault.’
‘Then we have no option but to force the vault open,’ Subhash argued. He had got stuck into the discussion and was trying to prove a point. There was a part of him that was annoyed with Dharmaraja Varma for talking down to him in front of the others.
‘We can’t do that,’ insisted Varma, pleading almost. ‘It is recommended that we do not. Legend says that if we force the door open without chanting the mantra, catastrophe will befall the temple, maybe even the city, the state or the country.’ And then, as if to prove a point, he said, ‘Try putting your ear to the door.’
Nirav walked up to the door and listened.
‘Can you hear anything?’ Dharmaraja Varma asked him.
‘Yes,’ answered Nirav. ‘But I am not sure if it is the sound of sea waves or hissing snakes.’
‘It is a bit of both. It is believed that if any person forces the door open, he will come face-to-face with a large snake guarding the vault.’ He paused for a moment, then continued, ‘Besides, it is almost impossible to open the door without the Garuda Mantra.’
‘Rubbish!’ Subhash scoffed. ‘It is superstitions like these that keep people from asking questions. Fear is the key! Instil fear in the minds of the public so that no one questions you. And when that happens, it gives you the authority to do whatever you want.’
‘Hold it!’ Vikram Rai checked Subhash. ‘We are not here to level allegations against anyone. The purpose of our visit today was to get to know the topography of the temple. We will come back once all arrangements are made.’ He turned around and walked back towards the temple mandapam, the rest of the team following.
In the Name of God Page 8