‘That depends on you, my friend. Remember your code of honour when you answer this.’
Divodas frowned.
‘How did you get the Naga medicine?’ asked Shiva.
Divodas froze.
‘Answer me, Divodas,’ repeated Shiva gently.
‘My Lord...’
‘I know that medicine could only be made by the Nagas. The question, Divodas, is how you came by it.’
Divodas did not want to lie to the Neelkanth. Yet he was afraid of speaking the truth.
‘Divodas, be truthful,’ said Shiva. ‘Nothing angers me more than lies. Speak the truth. I promise you that you will not be harmed. It is the Nagas I seek.’
‘My Lord, I don’t know if I can. My tribe needs the medicines every year. You saw the chaos that a few days of delay led to. They will die without it, My Lord.’
‘Tell me where to find those scum and I give you my word, I will get you the medicines every year.’
‘My Lord...’
‘It is my word, Divodas. You will always have your medicine. Even if it’s the only thing I do for the rest of my life. Nobody in your tribe will die for the lack of medicine.’
Divodas hesitated. Then his faith in the Neelkanth legend overcame his fear of the unknown. ‘I have never met a Naga, My Lord. Many of us believe that they have put a curse on Branga. The plague peaks every year, without fail, during the summer. The only medicines that can save us are the ones the Nagas supply. King Chandraketu gives the Nagas untold amounts of gold and a large supply of men in return for the medicines.’
Shiva was stunned. ‘You mean King Chandraketu is forced to deal with the Nagas? He is their hostage?’
‘He is a virtuous king, My Lord. Even the few of us who have escaped and found refuge outside Branga are given gold by him to sustain ourselves. We go back to Branga every year to get the medicines.’
Shiva stayed silent.
Divodas had a smidgeon of moisture in his eyes. ‘Our king is a great man, My Lord. He has made a deal with the devils and cursed his own soul, only to save the people of Branga.’
Shiva nodded slowly. ‘Is the King the only one who deals with the Nagas?’
‘From what I know, he and a few trusted advisors, My Lord. Nobody else.’
‘Once my child is born, we will leave for Branga. I will need you to accompany me.’
‘My Lord!’ cried Divodas in shock. ‘We cannot bring any non-Branga into our land. Our secrets must remain within our borders. My tribe’s future is at stake. My land’s future is at stake.’
‘This is much bigger than you, your tribe or me. This is about India. We must find the Nagas.’
Divodas gazed at Shiva, torn and confused.
‘I believe I can help, Divodas,’ said Shiva. ‘Is this a life worth leading? Desperately begging for the medicines every year? Not even knowing what ails your tribe? We have to solve this problem. I can do it. But not without your help.’
‘My Lord...’
‘Divodas, think. I have heard that peacock blood has many other side-effects that are just as bad. What if you had not reached in time with the Naga medicines? What would have happened to your tribe? Your wife? Your unborn child? Don’t you want this resolved once and for all?’
Divodas nodded slowly.
‘Then take me to your kingdom. We will free your King and the land of Branga from the clutches of the Nagas.’
‘Yes, My Lord.’
‘I swear I have nothing to do with the Nagas, My Lord,’ said Bhagirath, his head bowed.
Nandi, standing at the door of Shiva’s chamber, was looking on sympathetically.
‘I swear, My Lord, I would never go against you,’ said Bhagirath. ‘Never.’
‘I know,’ said Shiva. ‘I think the presence of the medicine shook me. Nandi has already spoken to me. I know how you came by the medicine. My apologies that I doubted you.’
‘My Lord,’ cried Bhagirath. ‘You don’t need to apologise.’
‘No Bhagirath. If I have made a mistake, I must apologise. I will not doubt you again.’
‘My Lord...’ said Bhagirath.
Shiva pulled Bhagirath close and embraced him.
‘Thank you once again for gracing us with your presence, My Lord,’ said Kanakhala, the Meluhan Prime Minister, bowing down to touch the great sage, Maharishi Bhrigu’s feet. ‘I will take your leave.’
‘Ayushman Bhav, my child,’ said Bhrigu with a slight smile.
Kanakhala was astonished at the sudden appearance of the reclusive Maharishi in Devagiri, the capital city of Meluha. But her Emperor, Daksha, did not seem the least bit surprised. Kanakhala knew how the strict Saptrishi Uttradhikari, a successor to the seven great sages, liked to live. She had organised his chamber to be exactly like the Himalayan cave that was Bhrigu’s home. No furniture except for a stone bed, on which Bhrigu was sitting presently. Cold water had been sprinkled on the floor and the walls to simulate the uncomfortable chilly and damp atmosphere of the mountains. Light had been restricted through the presence of thick curtains on all the windows. A bowl of fruit had been placed in the room; the only food for the sage for days. And most importantly, an idol of Lord Brahma had been installed on an indentation in the wall, at the north end of the chamber.
Bhrigu waited for Kanakhala to leave before turning to Daksha, speaking in a calm, mellifluous voice. ‘Are you sure about this, Your Highness?’
Daksha was sitting on the floor, at Bhrigu’s feet. ‘Yes, My Lord. It is for my grandchild. I have never been surer of anything in the world.’
Bhrigu smiled slightly, but his eyes were unhappy. ‘Your Highness, I have seen many kings forget their dharma in their love for their child. I hope your obsession with your daughter doesn’t make you forget your duty to your nation.’
‘No, My Lord. Sati is the most important person in the world to me. But I will not forget my duties towards the cause.’
‘Good. That is the reason I supported you in becoming Emperor.’
‘I know, My Lord. Nothing is more important than the cause. Nothing is more important than India.’
‘You don’t think your son-in-law is intelligent enough to start asking questions when he sees it?’
‘No, My Lord. He loves my daughter. He loves India. He will not do anything to hurt the cause.’
‘The Vasudevs have begun to influence him, Your Highness.’
Daksha looked shocked, at a loss for words. Bhrigu realised the futility of carrying on this conversation. Daksha was too simple-minded to understand the implications. He would have to fight for the cause by himself.
‘Please go ahead then, if that is what you believe,’ said Bhrigu. ‘But you are not to answer any questions on where it came from. To anyone. Is that clear?’
Daksha nodded. He was still shocked by the statement Bhrigu had made about Shiva and the Vasudevs.
‘Not even to your daughter, Your Highness,’ said Bhrigu.
‘Yes, My Lord.’
Bhrigu nodded. He breathed deeply. This was troubling. He would have to fight hard to save the legacy. It was imperative. He believed the very future of India was at stake.
‘There is nothing to fear in any case, My Lord,’ said Daksha, feigning a brilliance he didn’t quite feel. ‘Whatever may have happened with Brahaspati, the secret is safe. It will remain alive for centuries. India will continue to prosper and rule the world.’
‘Brahaspati was a fool!’ said Bhrigu, his voice rising. ‘Even worse, maybe he was a traitor to the cause.’
Daksha kept quiet. As always, he was afraid of Bhrigu’s temper.
Bhrigu calmed down. ‘I can’t believe I even considered giving my disciple Tara to him in marriage. The poor girl’s life would have been destroyed.’
‘Where is Tara, Your Highness? I hope she is safe and happy.’
‘She is safe. I have kept her in the land of Lord Rudra. Some of them remain true to me. As for happiness...,’ Bhrigu shook his head wearily.
‘She still loves him?’
‘No point in talking about Brahaspati,’ said Daksha. ‘Thank you so much for your permission, My Lord. From the deepest corner of my heart, thank you.’
Bhrigu nodded, bending lower and whispering, ‘Remain careful, Your Highness. The war is not over. Don’t think that you are the only one who can use the Neelkanth.’
Chapter 7
Birth Pangs
Shiva stood at the edge of the Dasashwamedh Ghat in a royal enclosure. On his side stood Their Highnesses Dilipa and Athithigva, with other key members of the nobility behind them. The citizens of Kashi stood away from the enclosure. They were not over excited. They had got used to the constant attention that came the way of their city since the Neelkanth had made it his temporary home.
It was a busy day for Kashi’s diplomatic staff. Dilipa had arrived just that morning. The standard protocols for the Emperor of Swadweep had been followed, right down to the single white flag at the royal enclosure with the Chandravanshi crescent moon darned on it. Now, they were waiting for Daksha, the Emperor of India.
The protocol had been tricky. But they had finally decided to have a red Suryavanshi flag placed at the highest point of the enclosure. After all, the Lord Neelkanth had declared Daksha the Emperor of all of India. Bowing to the sensitivities of Dilipa, Kashi protocol officers had also placed a Chandravanshi flag in the enclosure at a slightly lower height as compared to the Suryavanshi flag.
Shiva, of course, did not really care about the ceremonies. He was more interested in the workers busy at the temporary shipyard across the river, where the Brangas, led by Divodas himself, had been furiously working away for the last three months. Given the superstition about not living on the eastern side of the Ganga’s meander, it was naturally the safest place for the Brangas to do their job. They had been constructing special ships that could sail through the great Gates of Branga, massive barriers across the main river access to their land. Shiva couldn’t imagine how barricades could be built in a river as broad as the Ganga. But Divodas had said that these special ships would be required. Shiva remembered telling a sceptical Athithigva, who had opposed this move of the Brangas: ‘Just because you can’t imagine it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.’ But Athithigva had refused the usage of the royal palace and grounds on the eastern bank as a shipyard. So the Brangas worked on a dangerous, recently dried stretch of the riverbank.
Divodas had begun work the very next day after promising the Neelkanth that he would accompany him to Branga.
Divodas has been true to his word. He is a good man.
The sound of Daksha’s ship finally docking at the ghat brought Shiva back from his thoughts. He saw the rope pulley lowering the walkway. Daksha, without caring for royal protocol, immediately bounded onto the walkway and almost ran to Shiva. He bowed low and spoke breathlessly. ‘Is it a boy, My Lord?’
Shiva stood up to welcome the Emperor of India, did a formal namaste and spoke with a smile. ‘We still don’t know Your Highness. She is not due till tomorrow.’
‘Oh wonderful. I have not been late then! I was very scared that I would miss this joyous day.’
Shiva laughed out loud. It was difficult to say who was more excited — the father or the grandfather!
‘Such a delight to meet you again, Purvakaji,’ said Shiva, rising from his chair and bending down to touch the blind man’s feet. The suffix ji was a form of respect.
Purvaka, Drapaku’s blind father, was the same Vikarma whose blessings Shiva had sought at Kotdwaar in Meluha a few years ago. Kotdwaar residents had been stunned by the Neelkanth’s public rejection of the Vikarma law. Leave alone finding the touch of a Vikarma polluting, Shiva had actually sought to be blessed by one.
Purvaka had come along in Emperor Daksha’s convoy to Kashi. He immediately stepped back, as though sensing what Shiva was about to do. ‘No, My Lord. You are the Neelkanth. How can I allow you to touch my feet?’
‘Why not, Purvakaji?’ asked Shiva
‘But My Lord, how can you touch my father’s feet?’ said Drapaku. ‘You are the Mahadev.’
‘Isn’t it my choice as to whose feet I touch?’ asked Shiva.
Turning back to Purvaka, Shiva continued, ‘You are elder to me. You cannot deny me the right to seek your blessings. So please do so quickly. My back is hurting from bending for so long.’
Purvaka laughed, placing his hand on Shiva’s head. ‘Nobody can refuse you, great one. Ayushman bhav.’
Shiva rose, satisfied with the blessing for a long life. ‘So you intend to spend your time with your son now?’
‘Yes, My Lord.’
‘But we would be going on a dangerous voyage. Are you sure?’
‘I was a warrior too once, My Lord. I still have the strength. I can kill any Naga who stands in front of me!’
Shiva smiled, turning towards Drapaku, his eyebrows raised. Drapaku smiled back, signalling with his hand that he would protect his father.
‘My boy, don’t think I cannot sense what you are saying,’ said Purvaka. ‘I may be blind, but you learnt to wield the sword holding my hands. I will protect myself. And, you as well.’
Both Shiva and Drapaku burst out laughing. Shiva was delighted to see that the diffident Purvaka he had met at Kotdwaar, a man who had suppressed his natural valour in a defeatist manner against the assaults of fate, was rediscovering his old fire.
‘Forget about your son,’ said Shiva, ‘I would be delighted to have you as my bodyguard!’
‘I am scared, Shiva.’
Sati was sitting on her bed in their chamber. Shiva had just entered the room with a plateful of food. Much to the horror of the royal cook, the Neelkanth had insisted on cooking for his wife himself.
Pretending to be hurt, Shiva said, ‘My cooking isn’t that bad!’
Sati burst out laughing. ‘That’s not what I meant!’
Shiva came closer and smiled. Setting the plate aside on the table, he caressed her face. ‘I know. I have insisted on Ayurvati overseeing the delivery. She is the best doctor in the world. Nothing will go wrong.’
‘But what if this child too is stillborn? What if my past life’s sins affect our poor child?’
‘There are no past life sins, Sati! There is only this life. That is the only reality. Everything else is a theory. Believe the theory that gives you peace and reject the one that causes you pain. Why believe in a theory if it causes you unhappiness? You have done all you can to take care of your child and yourself. Now have faith.’
Sati kept quiet, her eyes still mirroring the foreboding she felt inside.
Shiva ran his hand along Sati’s face again. ‘My darling, trust me. Your worrying is not going to help. Just think positive and happy thoughts. That is the best you can do for our child. And leave the rest to fate. In any case, fate has ensured that you will lose your bet tomorrow.’
‘What bet?’
‘You can’t wriggle out of it now!’ said Shiva.
‘Seriously, what bet?’
‘That we will have a daughter.’
‘I had forgotten about that,’ smiled Sati. ‘But I have a strong feeling it will be a son.’
‘Nah!’ laughed Shiva.
Sati laughed along and rested her face against Shiva’s hand.
Shiva broke a piece of the roti, wrapped some vegetables in it and held out the morsel for Sati. ‘Is the salt all right?’
‘Are there really past life sins?’ asked Shiva.
The Neelkanth was in the Kashi Vishwanath temple. Seated in front of him was a Vasudev pandit. The setting sun shone through the spaces between the temple pillars. The red sandstone shone even brighter, creating an awe-inspiring atmosphere.
‘What do you think?’ asked the Vasudev.
‘I don’t believe anything till I’ve seen the proof. For anything without proof, I think we should believe the theory that gives us peace. It doesn’t matter whether the theory is true or not.’
‘That is a good str
ategy for a happy life, no doubt.’
Shiva waited for the pandit to say more. When he didn’t, Shiva spoke again. ‘You still haven’t answered my question. Are there really past life sins that we suffer for in this life?’
‘I didn’t answer the question because I don’t have the answer. But if people believe that sins of the past life can impact this life, won’t they at least try to lead a better life this time around?’
Shiva smiled. Are these people just talented wordsmiths or great philosophers?
The Pandit smiled back. Once again, I don’t have the answer!
Shiva burst out laughing. He had forgotten the Pandit could receive his thoughts and that he could, in turn, do the same with the Pandit’s.
‘How does this work? How is it that I can hear your thoughts?’
‘It’s a very simple science really. The science of radio waves.’
‘This is not a theory?’
The Pandit smiled. ‘This is certainly not a theory. This is a fact. Just like light, which helps you see, there are radio waves to help you hear. While all humans can easily use the properties of light to see, most don’t know how to use radio waves to hear. We are dependent on sound waves to hear. Sound waves travel much slower through the air and for much shorter distances. Radio waves travel far and fast, just like light.’
Shiva remembered his uncle, who he always thought could hear his thoughts. In his youth, he had thought it was magic. Now he knew better, that there was a science behind it. ‘That’s interesting. Then why can’t you create a machine to convert radio waves into sound waves?’
‘Aah! That is a tough one. We haven’t succeeded in that as yet. But we have succeeded in training our brains to pick up radio waves. It takes years of practice to do it. That’s why we were shocked that you could do it without any training.’
‘I got lucky, I guess.’
‘There is no luck, great one. You were born special.’
Shiva frowned. ‘I don’t think so. In any case, how is it supposed to work? How do you pick up radio waves? Why can’t I hear everyone’s thoughts?’
‘It takes effort to be able to even transmit your thoughts clearly as radio waves. Many people do it unconsciously, even without training. But picking up radio waves and hearing other people’s thoughts? That is completely different. It is not easy. We have to stay within the range of powerful transmitters.’
The Secret of the Nagas Page 9