The Sage's Secret

by Abhinav Menon

  TWENTY-THREE

  ‘It is not magic, Anirudh,’ Dweepa insisted.

  The two were sitting on the grass for another training session.

  ‘It is just a form of psychokinesis,’ Dweepa continued. ‘That means moving something with the powers of your mind only. The human mind is capable of a great many things, Anirudh, most of which the modern man hasn’t discovered yet.’ The sage added with a chuckle, ‘But what I am doing—and what you are about to learn—is the actual creation of the elements—earth, fire, wind and water—not just movements.’

  Anirudh furrowed his brow and looked quizzically at Dweepa. He was trying to fathom the meaning of his guru’s words. The sage, looking at his student’s questioning expression, explained what he had said. ‘I just use the forces of nature around me. I take energy from my surroundings and convert it into the form I want. So I reproduce energy in the desired form.’

  ‘Ohh …’ Anirudh whispered.

  Dweepa continued. ‘But for you to perform this, you will first need to master the art of psychokinesis.’

  ‘Okay …’

  Dweepa stretched out his right arm and opened his palm. Instantly, a small ball of fire materialized above it. This was replaced by a ball of water. Then swirling wind.

  Anirudh’s eyes widened.

  ‘How am I able to do this, you ask? By converting energy from one form to another. Now, you may ask me how energy is converted.’

  Anirudh smiled and shrugged.

  ‘I ask nature for energy. I take it from nature.’

  When Anirudh still seemed confused, Dweepa began, ‘Nature gives me the fire, water and wind. I only manifest it …’

  Anirudh nodded slowly, trying to wrap his head around the concept.

  ‘Okay, let us start practising. Maybe it’ll be easier to understand then!’

  Anirudh grinned, desperately eager to try.

  ‘Close your eyes and meditate. Calm your mind, Anirudh. Don’t rush into it. Just breathe deeply and move towards a state of peace.’

  Anirudh slowed his breathing considerably. Then he inhaled deeply, shunned his surroundings and gathered his thoughts.

  Once he thought Anirudh’s breathing had returned to normal, Dweepa spoke again. ‘Do you feel an unknown tension surrounding you? Some mysterious vibrations … Can you feel them?’

  Anirudh focused harder. He did kind of feel like a thick blanket of air was enveloping his body. And suddenly he felt a jolt! He tipped his head to indicate a yes.

  Dweepa said, ‘Now stretch out your right hand.’

  Anirudh did as he was told.

  Now the sage asked, ‘Can you feel the unknown vibrations on your palm too?’

  Anirudh waited, and once again he felt pulsating dense air. His excitement growing, he slowly nodded his head.

  ‘This unknown vibration is the energy present around you. It is this energy that we can convert into different forms and manifest as different elements.’ The sage paused looking at his keen student. He continued, breathing deeply, ‘Now, let’s try to apply psychokinesis on this energy. Try to mould the energy on top of your palm into the shape of a ball.’

  Anirudh tried very hard to focus his mind on the task, but was unsuccessful. Dweepa could feel the energy quivering above Anirudh’s open palm, the waves moving because of his will, but his concentration was falling short.

  ‘Calm down, Anirudh. Relax your mind. Forget that you have to make a ball out of the energy. Just feel it for now—the energy on top of your palm. You feel the vibrations?’

  Anirudh unclenched his mind. He inhaled sharply and repeated the steps. At first he could feel no difference. But then, slowly, after a while, he felt the air weighing down on him ever so slightly. He felt the tiny vibrations on his palm. He let out a smile.

  Dweepa kept a reassuring hand on Anirudh’s shoulder. ‘Yes, just feel its presence. Absorb the feeling into your hand.’

  Anirudh focused on the thick swirl of air. He felt some weight accumulating on his palm, only the slightest—the energy! Dweepa, looking at his progress, felt proud. He was also quite alarmed to see Anirudh attract this amount of energy, that too at such an early stage.

  The teacher continued. ‘Get used to the feeling in your hand.’

  Dweepa waited patiently as Anirudh took his time. Minutes later, the sage removed his hand from Anirudh’s shoulder and continued with his instructions.

  ‘Now, imagine that you are touching it. Think … think that you are touching the energy with an invisible hand.’

  Anirudh found that difficult to do. How does one imagine touching sheer invisible energy with their hands? he wondered. But he decided to give it a shot, taking it slow. He visualized an invisible hand over his palm, gently cupping the energy. For a moment nothing happened, but then suddenly he felt as if his invisible fingers were softly caressing the energy.

  Seeing the ripples above his palm, Dweepa admired Anirudh’s efforts. The sage spoke gently, ‘Now, using your fingers, try to create the ball.’

  Anirudh felt his invisible fingers close in on the energy. He slowly tried to mould it into the shape of a ball, pressing down on it. Dweepa was ecstatic to see the result: a ball of energy in his student’s palm. Anirudh, too, could feel a ball hovering above his palm. A smile appeared on his face.

  Dweepa kept his hand on Anirudh’s shoulder again. ‘Now, imagine this to be a ball of fire. Energy can take any form. So, by imagining it, force this ball of energy to take the form of fire.’

  Anirudh tried exceptionally hard, his brow furrowing with concentration. But his efforts were in vain. The ball of energy immediately dwindled into nothing. Anirudh felt the cool breeze blowing on his now empty hand. He opened his eyes and exhaled loudly, feeling defeated.

  Dweepa patted Anirudh’s back. ‘It happens, my boy. Happened with me too … But you did much, much better than my first time. I could hardly feel the energy in my first lesson.’

  Anirudh smiled, feeling a bit reassured.

  ‘You’ve already identified the energy present in nature, Anirudh. Now, I just hope I am a good enough teacher to help you harness it.’

  Anirudh shook his head at Dweepa’s modesty. ‘You are a good teacher, Sage Dweepa. A very good one, I must say. You’ve helped me achieve so much in so little time …’

  Dweepa laughed. ‘It’s because I have a good student! Don’t lose heart. You will learn with practice, just as I did.’

  Anirudh nodded, and the two retired inside for lunch.

  As the days passed, and the last couple of weeks of training were upon them, Anirudh determinedly practised harnessing the energy and tried to convert it into other forms. While he had long mastered discerning the energy, he was still failing at manipulating its form.

  Dweepa consoled and counselled Anirudh constantly, saying it would come to him and that he just needed to give it some more time. The teacher was bent on advancing Anirudh’s training, and so he taught the boy to use the energy as a weapon—by focusing it on certain objects and exerting it forcefully. Anirudh picked this up quickly, and was soon using the energy to attract objects towards him too.

  Dweepa grew proud of his student. Anirudh was making progress at a great pace. He could now move objects and push and pull things with little concentration. The sage assured him that with continued practice, he could perform these tasks with a flick of his fingers.

  Before they knew it, two months of training had almost come to an end. It was time for Dweepa and Anirudh to return to Chennai, the boy’s home.

  On the last day of their stay in Dwarka, Anirudh asked Dweepa at dinner, ‘Why did you bring me to Dwarka? That too for practising? We could have done this in Chennai too, couldn’t we?’

  Dweepa looked at his student intently. Over the course of the two months, the sage had observed many changes in Anirudh. Though he’d always seemed a fairly confident boy, now he had a certain resolve about him; a sense of purpose and a strong will fortified his personality.

  ‘It wa
s your instruction to my ancestor. In your Krishna avatar, you’d wanted to be brought here because this is where you lived most of your life. This is where you died. You felt you would need to get in touch with yourself, and it would—should commence in Dwarka. You knew you would have to discover yourself, and this had to be the starting point.’

  Anirudh nodded slowly, absorbing what the sage said.

  ‘And I think you were right. You truly started discovering yourself here; it wouldn’t have been possible in the city.’

  Anirudh raised his brows, ‘How so?’

  ‘You feel at home here, in the midst of nature. You’ve found peace. You have mastered harnessing natural energy. I think it’s because your soul is more connected to this place.’

  Anirudh shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat.

  Dweepa smiled. ‘In the end only you can know why you wanted to return here. And there is one more thing: you had told my ancestor that there was a secret to be discovered here, in Dwarka.’

  Anirudh stopped eating and stared at Sage Dweepa, wondering what the secret could be.

  This time, Anirudh saw his Krishna avatar seated on a wooden swing suspended from the ceiling. The ornate swing, made of gold, was studded with gemstones. He was alone in the large room.

  Anirudh looked around. It was a majestic chamber, dotted with oil lamps. He was in a palace, he deduced. In front of him, at the centre of the room, was a small pool of water on which floated fresh pink lotuses. Behind him was a large window, through which cool air wafted in, playing with the sheer curtains.

  It was night time, and the dark sky outside matched his own glistening skin. Anirudh smiled—that’s how he had earned the name Shyam. He turned to look at Krishna, and noticed that he held a wooden flute in his hand.

  Swaying to and fro on the swing, Krishna brought the flute to his lips. He started moving his fingers on the flute, gently blowing air into the reed instrument and emitting a melodious lullaby. Even the trees went into a trance, the breeze blew lazily, carrying sleep in its cool embrace, and the birds chirped softly, tucking their heads into their chests and falling into deep slumber.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Anirudh and Dweepa left for Chennai the following morning, and on their journey back home, Anirudh asked the sage much about the Krishna avatar. Dweepa was happy to answer his student’s questions and encouraged him to ask more whenever he wanted. Dweepa also quizzed Anirudh on the initial chapters of the Mahabharata to understand what he had learnt from the text. He was filled with pride when Anirudh answered each question correctly. He was indeed a fast learner.

  When the two reached Anirudh’s home two days later, they were welcomed with open arms. Mohini hugged him tightly, tears streaming down her face. She was relieved to see her son back home, safe and sound. Bhaskar smiled broadly, patting Anirudh on the head and pulling him into an embrace. Over dinner, the parents thanked Dweepa profusely and offered to host him in their home, but the sage politely declined. He informed them of his decision to take up a flat nearby, since it was his duty to be near the Kalki avatar.

  After the meal was over, Dweepa met with Anirudh in his room and gave him some last-minute advice. He instructed his young student to keep reading the Mahabharata and practising the energy harnessing lessons. Anirudh assured him that he would and also that he would drop by Dweepa’s home once in a while.

  After Dweepa left, Anirudh and his parents had a long chat about his stay in Dwarka before the household retired for the night and the house became silent.

  Anirudh found himself darting between trees. He was in his ninth avatar, and was making his way through a forest with a deep sense of urgency. Night had fallen. Rain was pouring down heavily. Lightning lit up the dense canopy above him in snatches, lending the wet surroundings a surreal pale-green glow. Despite the eerie scene, Krishna continued to move forward, sure of the direction he was taking and the path in front of him. Krishna quickened his pace even as he turned back once in a while to see if anyone was following him. He was all alone.

  He reached a large stream that was growling in the rainy night. He turned to his left and squinted at the grove of trees some twenty feet from the river. The rain was coming down harder now. Then walking up to one of the trees, he found a big circle on the bark and traced the shape with his fingers. Still watching his back, Krishna pressed the bark directly behind the circle, all the way around the circumference of the trunk. A panel slid in, as though the circle had been a button.

  Immediately, Krishna felt the ground tremble and turned to see that a portion of the rocky riverbed beneath the gushing stream had slid aside, revealing a gaping hole. Water now rushed into the opening.

  Krishna walked towards the rivulet. Reaching the bank, he studied the hole and, at the same time, clutched the circular locket hanging from his neck. He had to hide it before anyone found him!

  He stepped into the stream. As he started to walk towards the gaping compartment, he caught his reflection in the water. His head was soaking wet because of the torrential downpour. His limp long hair was strewn all over his face. Water dripped down his body in narrow trickles. Krishna hurried and finally waded to the hole. He took a deep breath and dived in.

  Anirudh woke with a start. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. He wiped it with his left sleeve and lay back on the bed, thinking about the dream. What locket was that? Why was it so important to hide it? Anirudh touched his neck unconsciously, like Krishna had done in his dream before jumping down the yawning hole in the middle of the river. How strange … Immersed in thoughts surrounding the mysterious dream, Anirudh stayed awake till the wee hours of the morning before finally falling asleep.

  The next day, he met Dweepa in his new home. Surprisingly, it was similar to his previous lodging. It was a one-room apartment, sparsely furnished and with minimal decor. Anirudh liked the simple dwelling. They were seated on a couch in the living room, overlooking a window.

  ‘A locket shaped like a circle?’ Dweepa asked.

  Anirudh nodded.

  The sage scratched his bearded chin and looked out of the window, at the blue sky peppered with white clouds. The sun was playing hide-and-seek among them, quickly changing its hiding place from behind one cloud to another.

  ‘I seemed a little worried but purposeful, and I was going to hide that locket,’ Anirudh began. ‘It was a rainy night, and I was walking quickly through the woods. I clutched the locket in my hand, but I didn’t get to see it properly. Then I reached a considerably large stream and scanned the trees near the bank. I walked to one and pressed what was, I think, a concealed button, which slid open a circular door in the middle of the stream’s floor. I walked to that hole, wading through the gushing waters, and jumped into it. That’s when I woke up.’

  Dweepa looked at Anirudh thoughtfully and then said, ‘I don’t recall Lord Krishna having any such locket, at least not one that was famous. It could be some lesser known accessory. But I shall do some research and get back to you when I find something.’

  The two talked for a while after that. The sage inquired about his progress with the Mahabharata, while Anirudh informed him that his new term at college was going to start the following week. After some time, Anirudh left for home, while Dweepa headed to a local library to read up about the locket that worried his lord.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Indraprastha, The Night of the Mayasabha’s Inauguration, Dwapara Yuga

  Krishna walked briskly, making his way to the room at the very end of the corridor. Dim oil torches lit his path as he walked across Yudhishthira’s palace. The light bounced off the gleaming white marble, making Krishna slow down to admire the handiwork of the brilliant architect. The play of light on the polished surfaces gave it the effect of rippling water. It was mesmerizing.

  The raj sabha, or royal court, of Yudhishthira—called Mayasabha—had been inaugurated just that morning, amid grand festivities and feasting and free-flowing wine. The effect of the heavy drinking was apparent in the loud sno
res coming from the chambers that Krishna passed by.

  He smiled to himself. It’s good that everyone is fast asleep. I can meet him in peace, without fear of being overheard.

  Krishna reached the last room in the corridor. He waited for a few moments, making sure he wasn’t being spied upon. Slowly raising his hand, he knocked thrice on the door, with a pause between each knock.

  The door creaked open, letting a ray of yellow light escape. Krishna threw another glance down the empty corridor and hastily entered the room. The door closed noiselessly behind him.

  Krishna looked around the large, well-furnished room. A comfortable bed overlooking a huge window occupied centre stage. The room was lit by oil lamps set in alcoves along the maroon marble walls. The light reflecting off the surface made it look like gold spread on a sheet of velvet. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

  Krishna smiled and turned to the occupant of the room. ‘Your architecture is impressive, Maya! I must confess I am awestruck.’

  Maya bowed low, saying, ‘Thank you, my lord! It is indeed by your grace and mercy that I have been able to construct this palace. If it wasn’t for you, I would probably be dead by now.’

  ‘Ah … How could I let you die, my friend?’

  Krishna sat on one of the cushioned chairs near the bed. He motioned Maya to sit next to him. As Maya approached, Krishna observed him. The man was dark-skinned and had a heavy built. He sported a huge bushy moustache, which curled at the tips. A golden dhoti was tied around his waist, and chunky gold bracelets encircled his wrists. His hair was oiled, but ruffled. His eyes were wide, and his prominent teeth were yellowing. He was an asura, but a kind-hearted one.

  Seated, Maya waited for Krishna to speak, who cleared his throat. ‘The reason I didn’t let Arjuna kill you in Khandavaprastha is because you are meant for greater things, Maya. This palace …’ Krishna said, waving his hand around the room, ‘The construction was a test of your skills. And you, Maya, have exceeded my expectations.’