Anirudh stared at Dweepa with narrowed eyes, a little disappointed. The sage patted his shoulder and went on to explain what Krishna had told his ancestor about the need for learning the ancient language. After he finished, Dweepa suggested that they sleep, for they had to wake up early the next morning.
Anirudh looked up at the night sky one last time for the day before going back inside the house, trying to take in the expanse—as well as his new life. He couldn’t decide whether he was happy or sad, for it was all too much for him to process, even after the thorough discussions with the sage. He shut his eyes and inhaled the fresh air.
Everything in its own time, he thought as he went inside.
NINETEEN
Kalanayaka was being taken very good care of by his new family. His stay with the Kalabakshakas was not just comfortable, but also enlightening. A key source of his delight was the large and exhaustive library at the stone palace.
Kalanayaka liked to spend most of his time surrounded by the tall bookshelves, in which the spines were neatly arranged based on the subject. The library had a variety of books on many topics, especially sorcery and black magic, but also Indian mythology, religion and more.
He sat at one of the reading desks daily, poring over the texts on black magic and quenching his thirst to learn more and more about it. He even studied a couple of new complex sacrifice rituals to help him attain more power and aid him in accomplishing his mission.
Apart from the library, the spacious practice hall was another attraction. Huge stone pillars held up its roof. There were many tools for training in this hall: long poles for climbing, dummy models for target practice, exercise equipment for enhancing physique and building stamina. It was here that the Kalabakshakas practised and honed their art of warfare.
The Kalabakshakas fought in a more efficient manner than Kalanayaka did, he learnt. They were aggressive yet defensive at the same time. They blocked the attacks with one hand, while with the other they unleashed counter-attacks. Kalanayaka watched them practise in awe. He was amazed by their skill.
‘The Kalabakshakas are the most powerful sorcerers in the whole world.’ Kalanayaka recalled his guruji’s words, realizing the truth in them. The Kalabakshakas were indeed the most formidable sorcerers on earth. They were many classes above ordinary sorcerers! If Kalanayaka were to ever get into a fight with a Kalabakshaka, he wouldn’t last for more than five seconds, he knew … such was their power.
Now formally a Kalabakshaka himself, Kalanayaka was also invited to the practice arena to hone his skills. He was only too happy to learn the Kalabakshakas’ ways. After all, they inspired him, for they considered fighting to be an art form. Thus, they practised every day. Their moves were few, but very fluid and precise. It was no wonder then that one attack by them had the potency of ten attacks by Kalanayaka.
The sorcerous warfare of the Kalabakshakas, Kalanayaka discovered, was more focused on defence rather than offence. A Kalabakshaka first made sure his defence was strong, only then did he go on the offence. Kalanayaka also learnt this approach. He started by trying to grasp the various moves by which one could defend oneself. Once he was sure of this, he was tested: a group of Kalabakshakas attacked him, and he fought them off well. Though he faltered sometimes, the Kalabakshakas appreciated his hard work. They assured him that he just needed more practice and that soon he would be a master in the art of defence.
Next, Kalanayaka was taught the art of offence. For him, this was easier than defending himself as it suited his personality. But the difficulty he faced here was mastering the movements. Each attack pose had a certain grace and calmness when the Kalabakshakas performed it. But when the same stance was performed by Kalanayaka, it displayed force and chaos. To destroy a particular target, the Kalabakshakas used just one fluid move, while Kalanayaka used up to three aggressive moves to do the same.
‘You are using too much energy.’
‘You’re not using your energy wisely.’
‘You are misdirecting the power of your attack.’
Though frustrated by the comments that came his way, Kalanayaka felt they were right. But he wished they would offer some constructive criticism. This wasn’t really getting him anywhere. For some reason, he just couldn’t bring fluidity to his attacks.
Then one day, a fellow Kalabakshaka offered him a valuable tip.
‘Be calm when you are attacking. Don’t fill your mind with hatred or any negative emotion. They tend to make you physical and violent. Just still your mind; bring your body under your control. And only when you feel it will follow your command, take your time to build up the energy for your attack, start your movement gracefully and end it gracefully. Remember this. It’s very important to end your attack gracefully too. For only when your whole movement is graceful, will your attack be truly destructive.’
This tip opened Kalanayaka’s eyes. After learning to control his mind and body, he could finally bring the desired fluidity to his movements. And with fluidity, indeed came destruction.
Having practised day and night, Kalanayaka’s warfare skills had improved greatly. He could now attack and defend at the same time! The Kalabakshakas were delighted. He had proven that he was truly worthy of being one of them.
Kalanayaka was sitting at the long table in the dining hall with his fellow Kalabakshakas. The hall had large windows through which sunlight poured in during the day and moonlight drizzled in at night. Next to each window was a torch bracket, which in this day and age held electric bulbs. From the ceiling hung a magnificent chandelier. At one end of the table was a golden chair decorated with rubies and blue sapphires and upholstered with red velvet. Upon inquiring during his early days, Kalanayaka had found out that he had surmised correctly. It was the throne of Kalarakshasa.
Ever since he had come to the stone palace, Kalanayaka had seen Kalarakshasa only twice. The first time was the day he had been brought here. And the second was three days later, when Kalarakshasa had given him his Kalabakshaka staff. Kalarakshasa had done so without uttering a word; he’d just given a nod to acknowledge the new recruit.
Kalanayaka’s staff had a miniature bull’s skull on a sturdy wooden stick. The skull was painted black, and its hollow eye sockets were studded with red stones. Kalanayaka had been practising with the staff for over a month now. He could feel it was many times more powerful than his old staff.
As Kalanayaka and his companions sat eating dinner, prepared by those among them with great culinary skills, a fellow Kalabakshaka came running to the hall. He stopped at the table, panting. Someone offered him a glass of water, which the tired sorcerer gulped down. The others waited as he took a few deep breaths.
Then he began excitedly, ‘I just received a message from Kalarakshasa. I shall read it out loud.’
Everyone became alert. Their eyes were fixed on the Kalabakshaka. The message was of just one line, and delivered in a rush. The messenger departed soon after, but Kalanayaka’s heart was still pounding. Every Kalabakshaka was stirred up; dinner was the last thing on their minds now.
The group hurriedly exited the dinner hall. Kalanayaka knew what was going to happen next. Rigorous training would commence, sorcerers would be recruited in large numbers. They would research the depths of sorcery and black magic even more extensively. The moment they had all been patiently waiting for had finally arrived!
The very next day, the Kalabakshakas began work with full fervour, such was the effect of the message sent by the Kalarakshasa:
‘Kalki and Sage Dweepa have met.’
TWENTY
For Anirudh, Sanskrit wasn’t such a tough thing to learn as he already had a base to build on, thanks to his early lessons in the subject in secondary school. Even so, he requested Dweepa to start from the very beginning and help him brush up on the basics.
Dweepa was a very good teacher in Anirudh’s opinion. He had a brilliant command over Sanskrit, as he was taught the language right from his childhood. The sage frequently read Sanskrit texts, and so he never los
t touch with the language. But that wasn’t the case with Anirudh. He began by revising the alphabet and writing it down every day. Soon Anirudh was reading and forming words. Though he had to rebuild his vocabulary, he applied himself to his lessons diligently, paying attention to instructions from Dweepa, who was now only speaking to him in Sanskrit to help him learn faster. It wasn’t long before Anirudh could follow and form simple sentences, and he would even try reading more complex words and phrases.
In just a couple of weeks, a whole new world had opened up for Anirudh. He had started conversing with the sage in Sanskrit! At first, his speech was horribly garbled and full of grammatical errors, with him invariably breaking off to use an English or Hindi word as he struggled to convey his thoughts. But as he continued to persevere with both speaking and writing, Anirudh’s command improved greatly. Seeing how far Anirudh had come in a short span of time, Dweepa finally started testing him with questions that he answered correctly.
And so Anirudh was then given a few extracts from religious texts to read and rewrite in his own words. He was even told to write, in Sanskrit, his thoughts about the contents of the paragraphs he had read. Thus Anirudh achieved moderate fluency in the language.
One evening, after their prayers, Dweepa and Anirudh were lying outside on the cool ground, enjoying the starry sky. Lately, Anirudh had started feeling a certain calmness about himself; he felt as if he were living the dream of achieving the eternal peace that the world’s greatest philosophies spoke about. He had stopped questioning the situation in his life; the doubts were melting away and giving way to a sense of purpose. He felt like he was meant to be where he was, like he was indeed doing what he was supposed to do and becoming who he was meant to be.
The star-spangled sky was reflected in his dark, serene eyes. Suddenly he remembered something he had been wanting to ask Dweepa for a long time. ‘Sage Dweepa,’ Anirudh spoke, ‘I saw your ancestor taking down the instructions I—Krishna was giving. Do you still have those notes?’
Dweepa, who had been admiring the quiet night, looked at Anirudh, intrigued. ‘Yes, why do you ask?’
Anirudh replied, ‘I just wanted to see them. May I?’
With a slight bow, Dweepa went inside the house and brought out the notes from the puja room. He gave the bound palm leaves to Anirudh, who carefully placed the bundle on his lap and untied them. Dweepa had turned on the light bulb on the veranda so that Anirudh could pore over the scripture with ease.
Anirudh ran his fingers over the illuminated palm leaf at the top, caressing it. The bundle looked intact. ‘These notes have been preserved very well,’ he said, astonished.
‘Yes, they have. Thanks to Lord Krishna, for he enchanted these leaves so they could stand the test of time,’ the sage replied. ‘Dictated by the Krishna avatar, and now being read by the Kalki avatar!’
Smiling, Anirudh read out two–three palm leaves to Dweepa and asked him if he had made any mistakes. The sage was pleased to see how fluent Anirudh’s Sanskrit had become.
After some time, Anirudh neatly tied the leaves together and returned the notes to Dweepa. Turning to Anirudh, Dweepa asked, ‘You told me that you saw my ancestor taking down the notes. Where did you see this?’
‘In my dreams, of course,’ Anirudh replied.
‘Oh yes … your dreams! I forgot.’ Dweepa sighed.
‘Why? Is something wrong, Sage?’
Dweepa shook his head. ‘No, Anirudh, nothing is wrong. I know that you communicate with your devotees and even yourself through dreams. Through them,’ he continued, ‘you tell yourself about your past as well as other important points that may be useful to you.’
Anirudh looked absently at the cloudless sky while his mind absorbed the meaning and the role of dreams in his life. The cool night breeze gently rocked the leaves of the nearby trees and, deep in thought, he closed his eyes.
Anirudh found himself staring into an unending blackness, a dark void all around him. Slowly, brightness started illuminating his surroundings. He could hear the sound of water lapping against something as the scene started to unfold.
He saw a man reclining on a large bed. His face was strikingly similar to that of Anirudh’s. His skin was dark like the night sky, and on his head was a golden crown. The bed he was lying on was surrounded by water gushing from all the sides, as if he were in the middle of an endless white ocean.
The foamy water steadily thrashed the bed, which looked rather strange to Anirudh—it seemed to be made of some animal’s hide, a snake’s perhaps. Anirudh now returned his attention to the man’s sleeping face and, to his shock, saw a many-headed serpent towering over them. In fear, Anirudh took a couple of steps back. He studied the man on the bed, anxious to see if he was aware of the danger hovering above his head. But, to his surprise, the man was lying comfortably and at peace, as though he knew the snake wasn’t a threat at all.
Anirudh gulped down his fear and observed the man closely this time. He couldn’t believe his eyes—the figure had four arms! In the upper right hand was a circular yellow disc, while in the upper left he held a conch shell. His head was resting on his lower right arm, and the lower left arm was placed on his thigh.
Anirudh sucked in a sharp breath as he finally recognized where he was and who was sleeping in front of him! The snake bed, the ocean all around him, his doppelganger—all signs pointed to one thing only. Anirudh realized that he was in Vaikuntha, and that the man before him was none other than Lord Vishnu! The snake in question was Shesha Naga, also known as Ananta Shesha!
Looking around, Anirudh found no one else. Then, piercing the silence, the sound of jingling anklets approached him. He turned to look for the source of the sound. To his left, from beyond the mists of the ocean, he saw a woman walking towards Lord Vishnu.
The woman was dazzling. Fair-skinned and sharp-featured, she was draped in a gorgeous green saree embedded with gems that shone like stars. The greenest of leaves adorned her head like a laurel wreath, complementing her silky black hair, which flowed down her back. A few strands played in the breeze. Her face glowed with celestial beauty and her smile was mesmerizing, while her deep-blue eyes conveyed serenity. Noting the way she carried herself as well as the aura surrounding her, Anirudh instantly realized that she was a goddess.
As she neared the snake bed, Vishnu got up and welcomed her. It seemed he had been awakened by the sound of her anklets. He bowed to her, and she reciprocated the gesture.
‘Bhoomidevi! Welcome to my humble abode.’ He spoke in a mellifluous voice. ‘Please take a seat.’
Vishnu motioned her to sit on his bed. She smiled and sat down beside him.
‘What brings the goddess of earth here?’ the lord asked.
Bhoomidevi laughed softly and looked into Vishnu’s dark eyes. She admired his handsome features and mischievous grin. ‘Can’t I come visit my husband?’
Lord Vishnu blushed at the question. ‘Of course you can, Devi.’
After a few moments, the shy smile on the goddess’s face faded and was replaced by great sadness. ‘Kali yuga has started, my lord,’ she said.
Vishnu smiled and took her hand. He brushed it softly and spoke in a reassuring tone, ‘I know what Kali yuga has in store for you. I know what mankind will do to you. But remember this, my devi—when man crosses the threshold of your tolerance and my patience, I shall come to save you. I shall take birth on earth as Kalki, and I shall avenge you. When the time comes, I shall destroy man and earth. That’s the mission of the Kalki avatar—you know, don’t you?’
Bhoomidevi nodded, some colour returning to her face. She gripped Vishnu’s hand tightly. ‘I know you will avenge me. You always have, even in your past avatars.’
Vishnu replied, ‘And I always will.’
Bhoomidevi got up from the bed and Lord Vishnu followed suit. ‘It’s time for me to return to earth,’ she said reluctantly.
Vishnu embraced her and looked into her blue eyes. ‘I am always here for you. And you can always come me
et me whenever your heart desires.’ He brought her face closer and softly brushed his lips against her forehead. Bhoomidevi closed her eyes. She felt her husband’s eternal love in the kiss.
When Vishnu finally let go of her, Bhoomidevi stepped back and started walking away. She turned to face her lord again, hesitant to leave. Vishnu smiled. And that smile wiped her fears away and dried up her tears. It was a smile that silently assured her that he would always be with her. That all would be well.
Bhoomidevi smiled too, weakly, and turned away. She slowly walked forward, but suddenly stopped. She faced Vishnu, a frown on her face. ‘My lord?’
‘Yes, Devi?’
‘You told me you will destroy man as well as earth, that it’s your mission to do so …’
‘Yes, I did say that.’
Bhoomidevi looked questioningly at her lord. ‘You, Lord Vishnu, are the protector of the universe. And your Kalki avatar is the destroyer of the universe. What turns the protector into the destroyer?’
TWENTY-ONE
Dweepa sat on the green grass, scratching his beard and bathing in the warm sunlight. Anirudh, just a few feet away from him, was weightlifting a large stone. He liked to remain in shape no matter where he was.
Outside the house, they were taking a break from Anirudh’s studies. He had just finished telling Dweepa about his dream from the previous night, in which Bhoomidevi had come to visit Vishnu in Vaikuntha.
‘Firstly, what you described cannot be Vaikuntha,’ said the sage, turning to Anirudh.
Anirudh looked up at Dweepa, surprised.
‘It’s Ksheera Sagar.’
Anirudh nodded, acknowledging his mistake.
Dweepa added with a chuckle, ‘Nobody has seen Vaikuntha.’
Anirudh smiled, setting the stone down and catching his breath before the next set of lifts.
Dweepa continued, ‘Now, let’s go back to the dream. We know you have such dreams because you are trying to communicate with yourself. But … I can’t spot anything important enough in the dream that you would have wished to tell yourself.’
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