‘Four caves,’ Vijay mused. ‘Four brothers...polished walls. And we have this ball of polished rock. It may make some kind of sense. What’s wrong with you?’ The question was addressed to Radha, who had a curious expression on her face.
‘I am so stupid.’ Radha shook her head. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t get it.’
‘What do you mean?’ Colin asked.
‘I’m certain now that you are right about the Barabar caves being the four brothers.’
‘It certainly seems plausible, but how can you be certain?’ White wondered.
‘Have any of you read EM Forster’s book, A Passage to India?’
No one had.
‘Well, in his book, Forster describes caves with polished interior walls in a group of hills, near an imaginary town called Chandrapore. He called them the “Marabar caves.” Forster’s description of the Marabar caves was inspired by the Barabar caves. The similiarity in their names was more than a mere coincidence. Forster had visited the caves on one of his two visits to India and one of the central events of that book occurs in the cave.’
She paused and shook her head once again, chagrined at not having thought of this earlier.
‘Now, here’s the clincher, as Colin put it. One of the outstanding features of these caves, which Forster describes in his book as well, is their extraordinary echo. The caves echo!’
‘Echoes the secret of the Nine,’ White murmured, quoting the verse. ‘This is almost unreal. It’s like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle falling into place. Now that you’ve explained this, the verse really does seem to make sense.’
‘It certainly does,’ Vijay agreed. ‘The four caves are the four brothers. They were donated by Asoka—offered by the Emperor. And each cave has an echo. That last line has two meanings. It sums up the purpose of the caves, to lead us to the secret of the Nine. But it also describes the one unique feature that makes the caves stand out, differentiating them from all the other structures built by Asoka.’
He had been clicking away at his laptop and he now looked at the screen. ‘I googled “Barabar.” The caves are around 20 kilometres from Gaya. From all accounts, it’s in the boondocks of Bihar. Here’s another description which says that from Bela there is a dirt track leading to the caves.’
He looked up from the laptop. ‘Well, what do you think? Could the secret of the Nine really be hidden away there?’
‘A likely candidate,’ Colin answered immediately. ‘Miles from civilisation; the last place anyone would suspect a secret to be hidden.’
‘I have to say I agree with Colin,’ Shukla put in.
‘My vote goes to Barabar.’ White raised his hand.
‘I’m with them,’ Radha said excitedly. ‘Vijay, this has to be it.’
‘Okay,’ Vijay beamed at them. ‘We leave for Patna tomorrow morning. I’ll organise our tickets immediately.’ He glanced at Shukla. ‘But first, there’s one thing I have to clear up. I had forgotten about it in the excitement of interpreting the verse.’
Shukla looked enquiringly at Vijay, unsure of what he was alluding to.
‘The inscription on the wall in the secret chamber at Bairat,’ Vijay explained. ‘You said it was a book from the Mahabharata about aircraft. I didn’t get it.’
‘Oh, yes, of course. I was going to tell you about it when we discovered the hidden stairway.’
‘You mean when I discovered the hidden stairway,’ Colin protested with mock indignance.
Vijay made an impatient clicking sound and Colin subsided, grinning.
‘The inscription on the wall was a brief summary of the Vimana Parva,’ Shukla explained. ‘Literally translated, it means the book of flying machines. But here’s the strange thing. In all versions of the epic that have been handed down through the centuries, there is no mention of this book. It doesn’t exist. But here it was—at least a summary of it. On the wall of a secret chamber that belonged to the Nine. Or so we believe.’
‘Hang on a minute,’ Colin interjected. ‘I’m confused here. The Mahabharata is an epic that is hundreds of years old. So how can a book go missing?’
‘I’m guessing here, but there could be a logical explanation,’ Shukla replied, thoughtfully. ‘The Mahabharata was documented relatively recently. The exact date isn’t certain, but probably somewhere between 500 bc and 200 bc. Until then, it was transmitted orally, across generations.’
Realisation dawned on Colin. ‘You mean that it could be possible that this missing book was transmitted orally down the generations but when the epic was written down, it somehow got left out?’
‘Exactly. Why and how is a matter of conjecture but it certainly seems to be the most probable explanation.’
‘So what does the book say? Anything about the secret of the Nine?’ Vijay was impatient to unravel the meaning behind the presence of the inscription on the cavern wall.
Shukla shook his head. ‘I don’t know. At least, I couldn’t see anything in the summary suggesting a secret that could destroy the world. The book told a story, like all the other books of the Mahabharata. The vimana or flying machine has several references in both the Mahabharata and the Ramayana. These flying machines are usually the chariots of the gods, or devas, used in battle to defeat their enemies. The Vimana Parva tells the story of the King of Magadha, who was allied with the Kauravas. According to the inscriptions, he secretly set out to build a fleet of vimanas equipped with a secret celestial weapon that would decimate the Pandava army. But the summary doesn’t reveal the name or nature of the weapon of the gods that was to be employed against the Pandavas. It concludes by saying that the plans of the King came to naught because the war ended before the fleet could be completed. The Pandavas won, the King of Magadha was killed and that was the end of the plan.’
‘A secret weapon that could decimate an army?’ Colin was incredulous. ‘That sounds a bit far-fetched, doesn’t it?’
Shukla smiled. ‘You must remember,’ he explained, ‘the epics often talked in metaphors. Several weapons in the Mahabharata are described as “celestial weapons,” weapons given by the gods to the warriors who wielded them.’
‘Yes,’ Vijay murmured, recalling the tales his uncle had narrated to him when he was a child. ‘I remember. The Brahmastra was one such weapon. Arjuna used it in the war.’
Shukla nodded. ‘That is correct. There are many such weapons in the epic. Arjuna also released a weapon called Mahendra, which was given to him by Indra, the king of gods. It showered hundreds of thousands of blazing arrows upon the Kaurava army. Then, Dhristadyumna used a weapon called Pramohana, which deprived the Kaurava army of their senses so they fell to the ground, helpless. To counter this, Dronacharya, the guru of the Pandavas and Kauravas, released a weapon called Prajna.’
He looked around. ‘There are more examples. When the demon, Alambush, covered the battlefield with a dense darkness, Abhimanyu countered this illusion by releasing a solar weapon that lit up the battlefield and dispelled the darkness. Another celestial weapon used by Arjuna was the Vayavya, which created a hurricane. And, of course, one of the most famous weapons is the Anjalika, which Arjuna used to kill Karna. It is described as measuring three cubits and six feet long, with the brilliance of the sun. When Arjuna put it to his bowstring, the earth trembled and sounds filled the sky. The weapon was released with the sound of thunder and severed Karna’s head from his body.’
‘Wow,’ Colin was overwhelmed.
‘Of course, none of these descriptions can be taken literally,’ Shukla continued. ‘The storytellers of the epic often took dramatic licence to enhance the stories and make them more interesting for listeners, in ancient times. Over the centuries, these embellishments became part of the story and it was difficult to distinguish between the original story and the enhanced versions. So, the Vimana Parva isn’t unique. Flying machines, for example, may well have referred to swift chariots that flew into battle, so to speak.’
‘So, why was a summary of this book inscribed on the wall of a
secret chamber hidden in what may have been the library of the Nine?’ Vijay wondered aloud.
Shukla shrugged. ‘Perhaps this book was part of the library?’
‘That’s interesting,’ Radha remarked. ‘They must have had some reason for doing that. They must have known that this inscription would last much longer than the other texts in the library. After all, Asoka, their Emperor, was inscribing his edicts on stone as well.’
‘I can’t help thinking that there is some significance around the inscriptions.’ Vijay frowned. ‘But what can it be?’
He hoped they would find the answer at Barabar.
23
Day 7
Intelligence Bureau Headquarters, New Delhi
Imran nodded with satisfaction as he surveyed the portrait before him. Blake, who was sitting across the desk from Imran guessed correctly at the reason for his obvious pleasure.
‘It’s a match.’
Imran nodded, smiling now. ‘It was a long shot, but it paid off.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘Sometimes I wonder if there’s a force behind stuff like this. Coincidences like this just don’t happen. I mean, what are the chances that we’d find that the person who kidnapped the nephew of a murdered nuclear scientist was a Pakistani nuclear scientist who appears in an Al Qaeda video and whose name is mentioned in a telephone call with a suspected assassin?’
Blake smiled. Their suspicions that Farooq Siddiqui was involved in something big in India had been confirmed. What that was, however, was still a mystery.
‘So what are you going to do now?’ Blake was painfully conscious that the success of his mission depended on how Imran Kidwai moved from here on. But his experience with the IB officer so far gave him confidence. The man’s intuitive ability and perspicacity was admirable.
Imran grinned back at him. ‘Two things; first, I’ve given an order to tap Vijay Singh’s mobile and landline phones. If Al Qaeda and LeT are interested in him, there’s got to be a reason. Second, I’m going to interview a Maharaja, Bheem Singh.’
Blake raised an eyebrow. ‘You managed to pull that off?’
‘We had to pull strings in the Home Ministry to get an appointment. And I have a feeling it won’t go well.’
Blake grinned mischievously. ‘Why do I have this feeling that you’ll come out on top?’
Focused Agenda
Farooq’s face darkened as he listened to the speaker on the other end of the line. The call had come through a few minutes ago and the caller had immediately launched into a critique of the operation at Bairat.
‘If you’d controlled your impulses, you would have discovered the hidden chamber as well.’ The speaker had an acerbic edge to his voice. ‘I don’t understand why you are in such a hurry to get rid of Vijay Singh and his friends. Once we’ve achieved our goal, I don’t give a damn what you do to them. What happened at Bairat could have cost us the search if we didn’t have our backup plan in place.’
Farooq listened but said nothing, restraining an impulse to respond, as the caller continued. ‘So far, we’ve been getting publicity that we can do without. But we don’t seem to be any closer to our goal. We really can’t afford to miss out on any information that might help us. And, don’t forget, the deadline for the announcement is near. We don’t have time for games.’
Farooq decided that it didn’t make sense to try and justify his actions. And there was a modicum of truth in what was being told. He had missed out on getting his hands on vital information at Bairat. He admitted that some part of him was guided by a personal agenda. He was still smarting at having been outwitted, more than once, by Vijay. He wanted to strike back. But he couldn’t allow his own emotions to get in the way. He wanted the mission to succeed as much as anyone else. There was too much at stake for things to go wrong. ‘We’ll get there,’ he promised. ‘No more diversions or distractions.’
‘I’m glad to hear that. You know the consequences of failure.’
The caller hung up. Farooq stared at the telephone receiver in frustration.
There was a knock on the door and Murphy entered, unbidden.
Farooq glared at him. He didn’t like Murphy. Somehow, the American had managed to upstage him in this project. And Farooq didn’t like being upstaged.
‘What do you want?’
‘I’ve been asked to work directly with you. Support you from here on.’
Farooq scowled, his displeasure showing.
‘It’s better in a way,’ Murphy said, reading Farooq’s emotions. ‘We communicate directly. It’s more accurate. Saves time. And don’t worry, I’m here to help. I won’t get in your way.’
‘And you think you can help?’
Murphy shrugged. ‘I think you guys have it all wrong.’
‘Now you’re trying to teach us?’
‘No. I think you guys are experts at what you do. No one can beat you at causing terror. But this one’s not up your street.’
‘And you think you know better?’
‘This is what I do for a living.’
‘So what’s your solution then?’ It was a challenge.
‘I’ve been told we have very little time to go before the declaration. Once that happens, the countdown begins. We have to find what we seek. There is no room for failure.’ Murphy paused, seeking the words to explain. ‘Rethink your strategy. You’ve tried force. But what have you achieved?’
Farooq was silent.
‘Exactly. Now, what if you abandon all efforts to try and force the secret out of them?’
‘We can’t afford to sit back and relax.’
‘That’s not what I meant. Look, let’s face it. You couldn’t decipher the mails. They did. You’ve now got a new riddle from Bairat. And they have found a ball of rock from the secret chamber. How are you going to unravel those clues?’
Farooq understood. ‘You’re right. They’re good at this game. They have reached this far and will go further. All we need to do is follow them. And they will take us to our goal.’
Murphy smiled.
Farooq nodded. ‘Fine. We’ll leave them alone. Let them lead us to the secret. And I know exactly when we should step in and take control.’
Murphy leaned forward, interested. ‘How would you know that?’
Farooq grinned maliciously. ‘Let’s just say that I learned from what happened at Bairat.’
A Royal Rebuff
Imran sat in the ornately furnished study and glanced around. He looked admiringly at the mahogany desk, at the quill pen in its crystal holder and the crystal inkpot at its side. The walls of the study were lined with bookcases from top to bottom. The Maharaja seemed to be an avid reader.
The door of the study opened and the Maharaja entered; imposing in his dark grey Nehru jacket with gleaming black brogues.
‘Your Highness—,’ Imran began, getting to his feet, but was cut off almost immediately by Bheem Singh.
‘I know why you’re here. The Home Minister briefed me.’
Yeah, like he reports to you.
Imran suppressed a snigger at the Maharaja’s arrogance. Bheem Singh rounded the mahogany desk and sat down in the luxurious leather chair behind it. No invitation was extended to Imran to sit down.
‘That’s great,’ Imran responded, sitting down anyway. He was damned if he was going to stand and interview this man! He may be a former Maharaja and prominent politician, but Imran wasn’t going to let him have the upper hand in this conversation. ‘Then we can get straight to the point.’
Bheem Singh said nothing, but folded his arms across his chest, as if waiting for Imran to continue.
‘We are investigating a man named Farooq Siddiqui and his activities in India,’ Imran began cautiously, looking for a reaction. There was none. ‘I believe that you insisted that a case be filed against this man for kidnapping one Vijay Singh from Jaungarh.’
‘I insisted that a case be filed against a man named Farooq,’ Bheem Singh corrected him. ‘I know nothing of a man with the surname of Siddiqui.
’
‘Thank you. Can I ask what your interest in this matter is?’
‘I don’t think that’s any of your business.’
Imran was taken aback.
‘I’m sorry, your Highness, but we’re investigating this case and we need to have answers to all our questions. How do you know Vijay Singh?’
‘Vijay is the nephew of Vikram Singh, who was also from a royal family. Vikram and I moved in the same circles. I don’t know Vijay, but I had gone to pay him my condolences on his uncle’s death, when the SHO of Jaungarh police station paid us a visit. He was refusing to investigate the case and I simply insisted that he should do his job. Are you going to arrest me for that?’
Imran took a deep breath. This was going to be tougher than he had thought.
‘No, your Highness, I didn’t mean any offence.’
‘Well, then, if that’s all, I have to be going. The American Vice President is in town, as you probably know, and he’s scheduled to visit me tomorrow.’ Bheem Singh stood up.
Imran steeled himself for what was to come. ‘Your Highness. I have just one more question.’
The Maharaja sat down grumpily and looked at his oversized Rolex watch.
‘I’ll be quick,’ Imran assured him. ‘We also received reports that the Gurgaon police were being pressurised by the office of the Haryana Chief Secretary to close the case as unsolved.’
He watched Bheem Singh carefully. Again, there was no reaction. Imran thought, either the Maharaja genuinely knew nothing about this case or he was a very good actor.
‘Do you have any comment on that, sir?’
Bheem Singh placed his palms flat on his desk and leaned forward. ‘I am a busy man,’ he boomed. ‘I didn’t give you an appointment for you to waste my time with frivolous questions. If that is all you need to ask me, then I have nothing to say and you can leave now.’
It was meant as a dismissal, but Imran didn’t move. He looked straight at Bheem Singh and continued talking.
‘Your Highness, this is a matter of national security. We have, just a few hours ago, positively identified the man Farooq, who kidnapped Vijay Singh, as Farooq Siddiqui, a missing Pakistani nuclear scientist, who has conclusively been linked to Lashkar-e-Taiba.’
The Mahabharata Secret Page 15