Scion of Ikshvaku (Ram Chandra Series) FlyLeaf.ORG
Page 18
Ram’s breathing slowed down as his body stiffened imperceptibly. His face acquired an expression of forbidding calm. Lakshman immediately recognised it for what it was: a sign of deep anger welling up beneath the still waters of his brother’s essentially cool personality. He also knew that this anger was coupled with unrelenting stubbornness. He threw up his hands in a gesture of frustrated surrender.
Arishtanemi shrugged. ‘All right, you can talk to them. But it is not advisable that you do it in our absence.’
‘I have taken note of your advice. Thank you! But I trust them,’ said Ram.
Tadaka and Subahu heard Ram’s words. It took them by surprise because they had been considered the enemy for so long.
Arishtanemi gave in. However, he also made sure the Asuras heard him loud and clear. ‘Fine, we’ll move away. But we will be battle-ready, mounted on horseback. At the slightest sign of trouble, we’ll ride in and kill them all.’
As Arishtanemi turned to leave, Ram repeated his directive, this time to his protective brother. ‘I would like to speak to them alone, Lakshman.’
‘I’m not leaving you alone with them, Dada.’
‘Lakshman…’
‘I am not leaving you alone, Dada!’
‘Listen, brother, I need…’
Lakshman raised his voice. ‘I am not leaving you alone, Dada!’
‘All right,’ said Ram, giving in.
Arishtanemi and the Malayaputra warriors lined up at the border of the camp with the stream behind them, mounted on horses, ready to ride to Ram and Lakshman’s rescue at the first hint of trouble. The brothers were seated on a raised platform in the central square, with the Asuras gathered around them. Subahu wore an arm sling; he sat in front, beside his mother, Tadaka.
‘You are committing slow suicide,’ said Ram.
‘We are only following our law,’ said Tadaka.
Ram frowned. ‘What do you intend to achieve by continually attacking the Malayaputras?’
‘We hope to save them. If they come to our side, reject their false beliefs and listen to the call of the Ekam, they will save their own souls.’
‘So, you think you are saving them by persistently harassing them, interfering in their rituals, and even trying to kill them.’
‘Yes,’ said Tadaka, making it obvious that her strange logic was irrefutable to her. ‘And, really, it is not we who are trying to save the Malayaputras. It is, in fact, the True One, the Ekam himself! We are mere instruments.’
‘But if the Ekam is on your side, how come the Malayaputras have been thriving for centuries? How do you explain that the people of the Sapt Sindhu, almost all of whom reject your interpretation of the Ekam, have been dominant for so long? Why haven’t you Asuras conquered India once again? Why isn’t the Ekam helping you?’
‘The Lord is testing us. We haven’t been sufficiently true to his path.’
‘Testing you?’ asked Ram. ‘Is the Ekam making the Asuras lose every single major battle they have fought for centuries, for millennia actually, just so he can test you?’
Tadaka did not respond.
‘Have you considered that he may not be testing you at all?’ asked Ram. ‘Maybe he is trying to teach you something? Maybe he is trying to tell you that you have to change with the times? Didn’t Shukracharya himself say that if a tactic has led to failure, then persisting with it unquestioningly, in the wild hope of a different outcome, is nothing short of insanity?’
‘But how can we live by the rules of these disgusting, decadent Devas who worship everything in theory but nothing in practice?’ asked Tadaka.
‘These “disgusting, decadent Devas” and their descendants have been in power for centuries,’ said Lakshman aggressively. ‘They have created magnificent cities and a sparkling civilisation, while you have been living in a run-down pathetic camp in the middle of nowhere. Maybe it is you people who need to change your theory and practice, whatever it may be!’
‘Lakshman…’ said Ram, raising a hand to silence him.
‘This is nonsense, Dada.’ Lakshman would not relent. ‘How delusional can these people be? Don’t they see reality?’
‘Their only reality is their law, Lakshman. Change is difficult for the people of the masculine way of life. They are only guided by their law and, if that is out of sync with the times, it is very difficult for them to accept and initiate change; instead, more often than not, they will cling more strongly to the certainties of their law. We don’t see the attitude of the feminine civilisations towards change as open-minded and liberal; instead, to us, it appears fickle, corrupt and debauched.’
‘We? Us?’ asked Lakshman, frowning at Ram identifying himself with the masculine way.
Tadaka and Subahu keenly watched the exchange between the brothers. Subahu raised his balled fist to his heart, in an ancient Asura salute.
Ram asked Lakshman. ‘Do you think what was done to Dhenuka was wrong?’
‘I think the way the Asuras randomly kill people who do not agree with their interpretation of the Ekam is even more wrong.’
‘On that I agree with you. The Asura actions were not just wrong, they were evil,’ said Ram. ‘But I was talking about Dhenuka. Do you think what was done to him was wrong?’
Lakshman refused to respond.
‘Answer me, my brother,’ said Ram. ‘Was it wrong?’
‘You know I will not oppose you, Dada…’
‘I’m not asking what you will do. What do you think, Lakshman?’
Lakshman remained silent. But his answer was obvious.
‘Who is Dhenuka?’ asked Subahu.
‘A hardened criminal, a blot on society whose soul will atone for his deed for at least a million births,’ said Ram. ‘But the law did not allow for his execution. Had Shukracharya’s law not permitted it, no matter how heinous the crime, should he have been executed?’
Subahu didn’t need a moment to think. ‘No.’
Ram smiled ever so slightly as he turned to Lakshman. ‘The law applies equally to all. No exceptions. And the law cannot be broken. Except when…’
Lakshman turned away from him. He remained convinced that in Dhenuka’s case, justice had been served.
Ram turned to address the small band of Asuras. ‘Try to understand what I am saying to you. You are law-abiding people; you follow the masculine way. But your laws are not working anymore. They haven’t been for centuries, because the world has changed. That is what karma is trying to teach you, again and again. If karma is giving you a negative signal repeatedly, then it is not testing you, it is trying to teach you. You need to tap into the disciple in you and find a new Shukracharya. You need a new masculine way. You need new laws.’
Tadaka spoke up. ‘Guru Shukracharya had said that he would reincarnate when the time was ripe, to lead us to a new way…’
There was a long silence in the assemblage.
Tadaka and Subahu suddenly stood up in unison. They brought their balled right fists to their heart, as they bowed low to Ram; the traditional full Asura salute. Their soldiers sprang to their feet and followed suit, as did the women, children and the old.
Ram felt as if a crushing weight was suddenly placed on his chest and the wind knocked out of him. Guru Vashishta’s words entered his mind of their own volition. Your responsibility is great; your mission is all-important. Stay true to it. Stay humble, but not so humble that you don’t accept your responsibilities.
Lakshman glared at the Asuras, and then at Ram, scarcely believing what was going on.
‘What would you have us do, My Lord?’ asked Tadaka.
‘Most Asuras live with the Vayuputras today, far beyond the western borders of India, in a land called Pariha,’ said Ram. ‘I want you to seek refuge there, with the help of the Malayaputras.’
‘But why would the Malayaputras help us?’
‘I will request them.’
‘What will we do there?’
‘Honour the promise that your ancestors made to Lord Rudra. Yo
u will work with the Vayuputras to protect India.’
‘But protecting India today means protecting the Devas…’
‘Yes, it does.’
‘Why should we protect them? They are our enemies. They are…’
‘You will protect them because that is what Lord Rudra ordered you to do.’
Subahu held his mother’s hand to restrain her. ‘We will do as you order, My Lord.’
Uncertain, Tadaka yanked her wrist out of her son’s grip. ‘But this is our holy land. We want to live in India. We cannot be happy outside of its sacred embrace.’
‘You will return eventually. But you cannot come back as Asuras. That way of life is over. You will return in a new form. This is my promise to you.’
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Chapter 18
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Lakshman had expected anger from the volatile Vishwamitra, instead he looked intrigued; even impressed. Lakshman did not know what to make of it.
The maharishi sat in padmaasan on the platform built around a banyan tree. His feet were placed on opposite thighs, facing upwards; the knotted tuft of hair at the back of his shaven head fluttered in the strong breeze. His white angvastram had been placed on the side.
‘Sit,’ commanded Vishwamitra. ‘This will probably take some time.’
Ram, Lakshman and Arishtanemi took their seats around him. Vishwamitra observed the Asuras standing quietly in the distance. They had not been tied up; Ram had insisted on that, to the consternation of the camp denizens. But it appeared that shackling them was not required, after all. They stood in a disciplined line, not moving from their positions. Arishtanemi had nevertheless kept thirty guards stationed around them, just in case.
Vishwamitra addressed Ram. ‘You have surprised me, prince of Ayodhya. Why did you disobey my direct order to kill all the Asuras? And what did you tell them to bring about this dramatic transformation? Is there some secret mantra that can suddenly civilise the uncivilised?’
‘I know even you don’t believe what you have just said, Guruji,’ said Ram in a calm voice. ‘You don’t really think the Asuras are uncivilised; you cannot, for I have seen you worship Lord Rudra, and I know that the Asuras have joined the Vayuputras, the tribe that he left behind. The Vayuputras are your partners in deed, your karmasaathis. So, my suspicion is that you were trying to provoke me with what you just said. I find myself wondering, why?’
Vishwamitra’s eyes widened fractionally as they focused on Ram, to the exclusion of all others. But he did not give him an answer. ‘Do you really think these imbeciles are worth the effort of rescuing?’
‘But that question is immaterial, Guruji. The question really is: why should they be wiped out? What law have they broken?’
‘They attacked my camp repeatedly.’
‘But they didn’t kill anyone. All they did the last time was burn a small portion of the hedge fencing. And they broke some of your mining equipment. Do these crimes deserve the death sentence under the laws of any Smriti? No. The laws of Ayodhya, which I always obey, clearly state that if the weak have not broken any law, then it is the duty of the strong to protect them.’
‘But my orders were explicit.’
‘Forgive me for being explicit too, Guruji, but if you genuinely intended to kill these Asuras, then Arishtanemiji would have easily done it for you. Your warriors are trained professionals. These Asuras are amateurs. I believe you brought us here because you knew that they would listen to the princes of Ayodhya, and no one else. You wanted to find a practical, non-confrontational solution to the problem they posed. Not only have I followed the law, but I’ve also delivered on what you truly wanted. What I fail to understand is why you did not want to reveal your true intentions to me.’
Vishwamitra wore an expression that was rare for this great Brahmin: one of bemused respect. He also felt outfoxed. He smiled. ‘Do you always question your guru like this?’
Ram remained silent. The unspoken answer was obvious. Vashishta, not Vishwamitra, was his guru. Ram was merely following the orders of his father in according Vishwamitra that stature.
‘You are right,’ Vishwamitra continued, ignoring the subtle slight. ‘The Asuras are not bad people; they just have an understanding of dharma that is not valid for today’s world. Sometimes, the followers are good but the leaders let them down. Sending them to Pariha is a good idea. They will find some purpose. We’ll arrange for their departure.’
‘Thank you, Guruji,’ said Ram.
‘As for your original question, I’m not going to give you an answer right now. Maybe later.’
Within two weeks, a small group of Malayaputras had been readied, along with the Asuras, to undertake the journey to the hidden city of the Vayuputras, beyond the western borders of India. The Asuras had recovered completely from their injuries.
Vishwamitra stood at the gate of the Malayaputra camp, giving last-minute instructions to his men. Arishtanemi, Ram and Lakshman stood beside him. As the Malayaputra group walked away to mount their horses, Tadaka and Subahu approached Vishwamitra.
‘Thank you for this,’ said Tadaka, bowing her head low and folding her hands together into a namaste.
As Vishwamitra broke into a smile at the surprising display of manners from the Asura woman, Tadaka turned to Ram, her eyes seeking approval. Ram smiled his gentle appreciation.
‘Your fellow Asuras live in the west,’ said Vishwamitra. ‘They will keep you safe. Follow the setting sun and it will guide you home.’
Tadaka stiffened. ‘Pariha is not our home. This is our home, right here, in India. We have lived here for as long as the Devas have. We’ve lived here from the very beginning.’
Ram cut in. ‘And you will return when the time is right. For now, follow the path of the sun.’
Vishwamitra looked at Ram with surprise, but remained silent.
‘It didn’t work out the way we had planned, Guruji,’ said Arishtanemi.
Vishwamitra was sitting by a lake, not far from the Malayaputra camp. Arishtanemi, as was his practice whenever he was alone with his master, had kept his sword close at hand, unsheathed and ready. He would need to move fast if anyone dared attack Vishwamitra.
‘You don’t seem particularly unhappy,’ said Vishwamitra.
Arishtanemi looked into the distance, avoiding eye contact with his leader. He was hesitant. ‘Honestly, Guruji… I like the boy… I think he has…’
Vishwamitra narrowed his eyes and glared at Arishtanemi. ‘Don’t forget the one we have committed ourselves to.’
Arishtanemi bowed his head. ‘Of course, Guruji. Can I ever go against your wishes?’
There was an uncomfortable silence. Vishwamitra took a deep breath and looked across the vast expanse of water. ‘Had the Asuras been killed in their camp by him, it would have proved … useful.’
Arishtanemi, wisely, did not contradict him.
Vishwamitra laughed ruefully, shaking his head. ‘Outwitted by a boy who wasn’t even trying to outwit me. He was just following his “rules”.’
‘What do we do?’
‘We follow plan B,’ said Vishwamitra. ‘Obvious, isn’t it?’
‘I have never been too sure about the other plan, Guruji. It’s not like we have complete control over matters of—’
Vishwamitra did not allow him to complete his statement. ‘You are wrong.’
Arishtanemi remained silent.
‘That traitor Vashishta is Ram’s guru. I can never trust Ram as long as he continues to trust Vashishta.’
Arishtanemi had his misgivings, but kept quiet. He knew any discussion on the subject of Vashishta was one that was fraught with danger.
‘We will go ahead with the other plan,’ said Vishwamitra, with finality.
‘But will he do what we expect him to?’
‘We will have to use his beloved “rules” on him. Once it is done, I will have complete control over what will follow. The Vayuputras are wrong. I will show them that I am right.’
Tw
o days after the Asuras left for Pariha, Ram and Lakshman woke up to feverish activity in the camp. Keeping to themselves, they stepped out of their hut and set out for the lake to offer early morning prayers to the Sun God and
Lord Rudra.
Arishtanemi fell into step alongside them. ‘We’ll be leaving soon.’
‘Thank you for letting us know, Arishtanemiji,’ said Ram.
Ram noticed an unusually large trunk being carried out with great care. It evidently contained something heavy, for it was placed on a metallic palanquin which was being carried on the shoulders of twelve men.
‘What is that?’ asked Lakshman, frowning and instantly suspicious.
‘Something that is both Good and Evil,’ said Arishtanemi mysteriously, as he placed his hand on Ram’s shoulder. ‘Where are you going?’
‘For our morning prayers.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
Arishtanemi normally prayed to Lord Parshu Ram every morning. In the company of Ram and Lakshman, he also decided to pray to the great Mahadev, Lord Rudra. All Gods trace their divinity to the same source, after all.
They sat together on a large boulder on the banks of the lake, once the prayers were done.
‘I wonder whether Tadaka and her tribe will be able to cope with Pariha,’ said Arishtanemi.
‘I’m sure they will,’ said Ram. ‘They are easy to manage if they see you as one of their own.’
‘That appears to be the only way to handle them: keep them among their own. They find it impossible to get along with outsiders.’
‘I have been giving their ideas a lot of thought. The problem lies in the way they look upon the Ekam.’
‘The One God…?’
‘Yes,’ Ram said. ‘We’ve been told repeatedly that the Ekam lives beyond our world of illusion. He is beyond gunas, the characteristics of created things. For isn’t it gunas that create this world of illusion, of temporary existence, illusive because no moment in time lasts? Isn’t that why he is not only called niraakaar, formless; but also nirguna, beyond characteristics?’