‘I agree. But how can we ensure this? Sudās is very powerful. If we say no, he will take the kingdom by force!’
‘Can we suggest that you abdicate in favour of your son? Sudās can be made the regent till our son comes of age. This way Sudās can get all the power he desires, but only for a few years.’
Turvaśa looked at her, resignation in his voice. ‘You are too naïve, my love. This is not how it works. Sudās will never accept this—he knows better than to neglect taking account of his future as king when our son comes of age. I am also worried. We cannot be sure about when Sudās decides that he wants to be king and not just regent. We cannot put our son’s life at risk for the sake of retaining our empire. Would you be happy with that?’
‘The vice commander is loyal to us. Can we not order him to organize the arrest of the prince and the commander?’
‘Sudās may already have anticipated this. I am certain that the vice commander is under the strict watch of officers who are loyal to the commander and, by extension, to the prince.’
‘I am not going to give up without a fight. What will our son think of us when he grows up?’
‘If he is intelligent, he will think that we gave him the best possible future from among many bleak ones.’
*
Meanwhile, in the prince’s palace, Sudās was in discussion with his uncle, Acyut; the commander, Yadu; and an emissary from the Dasyu king, Cumuri. ‘The guru, Vasiṣṭha, has gone to the king and queen with an offer that may avert a civil war. As per the terms of this offer, I will be installed as the crown prince, the king’s son will be disinherited and removed from the queen’s guardianship to become my ward until he comes of age, the queen herself will be removed from all positions of power, and I will assume complete control of the administration and the army until Turvaśa passes on, after which I will become king.’
The emissary asked, ‘Will the king and queen accept this proposal? Will they be ready to disinherit their son?’
Yadu said, ‘What choice do they have? There will be civil war otherwise and we all know how that will end.’
The prince asked the commander, ‘What is the status of the army in support of us?’
The commander replied, ‘Well, the vice commander is still a thorn in our side. He is loyal to the king. But few officers support him. Our spies are watching him and his adherents closely to see that they do not get up to any mischief. When you become king, we can talk some good sense into him. For now, most of the captains and other officers of the army will take orders only from me.’
The prince’s uncle spoke, ‘Any thorn in the side should be pulled out and destroyed. We cannot rely on him to not do something drastic.’
Yadu said, ‘He is an honourable man.’
‘He may be honourable, but he cannot be allowed to continue holding hostile opinions against the prince.’
Sudās said, ‘I agree. So, commander, can we rest assured that if the king does not accept the guru’s proposal and things come to a head, we can immediately call on the army and ensure a smooth change?’
‘The captain of the capital city garrison is a strong supporter of the king. So, before we make our move, we need to eliminate him. Also, we need to keep a check on some of the other loyal officers and soldiers who comprise the king’s bodyguards.’
‘Will you be able to neutralize these people before we take any action?’ asked the prince.
‘Yes. I have already planned our strategy. We have some spies and supporters in both the city garrison and among the king’s bodyguards. And, of course, the captains who have their own ideas can be quickly brought under our influence.’
The emissary asked, ‘Will the captains be prepared to move against their king?’
The commander said, ‘We have already started putting out word that the prince’s main aim is to protect the king. We will ensure that each of our soldiers knows that the queen and her adherents surrounding the king are responsible for wreaking havoc in the kingdom. The prince’s rebellion is not against the king but against his coterie of ill-advisers and people who make him ineffective.’
The prince was anxious. ‘Are any neighbouring kings likely to attack us while we are attempting to consolidate our position?’
The commander said, ‘That is when the forces of Cumuri will come into action. An army of over four thousand soldiers from his kingdom are armed and waiting right outside our borders. If there is an invasion, we can quickly move them closer to our borders and keep the enemy at bay till we muster our own forces for battle.’
The emissary said, ‘Yes, sir, our army is ready.’
‘We are grateful to the Dasyu king.’
The emissary said, ‘My king wanted to make sure that you will not go back on your part of the compact and will marry his daughter, the princess.’
‘There is no going back. You can assure Cumuri of my allegiance.’
8
The Origin of the Aryans
Rumours were flying across the kingdom. It had become common knowledge that Sudās had entered into a pact with the Dasyu king, according to which he would marry his daughter in exchange for military support. The common people of the capital and the kingdom didn’t care either way. They were with the prince and knew that he had been judicious in selecting a bride. They knew he would provide good governance.
However, some of the upper-class people were upset—a few of Sudās’s supporters even considered withdrawing their support. How could an Aryan prince marry a Dasyu, regardless of whether she was a princess or not? The Dasyus were traditionally considered to be inferior. They were dark, their way of worship was different; some even said that they all had flat noses. They were only fit to be slaves.
Indeed, there were a few Dasyu slaves in their kingdom. Some of them were prisoners captured during wars with a Dasyu kingdom. But there were many Dasyus in Parśupur who were traders and workers engaged in other professions. They looked more or less like the Aryans. But it was one thing to trade with the Dasyus and another to marry them.
*
Vasiṣṭha’s students had also heard about the rumoured alliance. After their studies that day, Kaśyapa and Agastya met Bhārgava and Atharvan who had finished twelve years of studentship with Vasiṣṭha and had been asked to remain and learn some advanced subjects like the esoteric sciences. Not all students were accorded this privilege. Only the best were. Kaśyapa and Agastya were in their twelfth and final year of studentship. They too hoped that they would be asked to stay back at the end of the next year to be instructed in the advanced sciences. This way they would become part of the chosen few with advanced knowledge.
‘This is scandalous. How can the prince marry a Dasyu? I hope somebody talks sense into him,’ Bhārgava was saying.
Agastya asked, ‘What is the problem? We hear that she is beautiful and healthy; she is a princess, after all. Who could be a better match for the prince?’
Kaśyapa said, ‘Yes, and she is the only child of the Dasyu king. Hence, when he dies, the prince and their son will inherit the Dasyu kingdom also. Our kingdom will become twice as powerful.’
Bhārgava was not impressed. ‘The way to become powerful is to not ally with the Dasyus. Their way of life is very different—their way of worship is different. Indeed, even the gods they worship are different. They are uncivilized, inferior people.’
Atharvan said, ‘Where did you get these ideas? Have you not seen some of the Dasyu traders here? They seem to be very polished. Indeed, more polished than even the Aryans.’
‘Superiority does not have to do with being “polished”; it comes from being born as one of the gods’ chosen ones—an Aryan.’
Kaśyapa was not interested in continuing this conversation. He wanted to know whether the rumour was true. He knew just where to confirm it . . . from someone who hobnobbed with the most important people in the kingdom, someone to whom people, in moments of weakness, indiscreetly blabber things out, including state secrets. But would she tell hi
m? Or even talk to him? She did smile at him that day. Nevertheless, he decided to try. He quietly left the others still arguing and walked towards Ghoṣā’s house. From the main avenue he took the road that turned left from near the north gate. Her house was just off the corner. It was very large but simple, with a big courtyard and a well-kept garden at the back, where she would entertain some of her wealthy and powerful clients.
When he went in, he saw her—she had just had a bath and smelt of a sweet perfume, an intoxicating smell that he would always remember. Kaśyapa remembered that the previous night was a full moon. She would have had her ceremonial bath in the morning. It was the first day of the month of Tapasya, the thirty-first day of the year. He suddenly realized that a month had passed since the day he had witnessed the ruckus in the assembly.
Ghoṣā was dressed in simple clothes, but Kaśyapa thought she had great taste. She welcomed him and they sat in the garden—she was seated on a swing and he was on a stone block, near a bush with white flowers. After some small talk, she asked him why he had come to her. She thought that, probably, one of the senior priests had sent him with some message.
Kaśyapa knew that she was smart enough to see through any subterfuge. So, he told her, quite boldly, that he had come to her out of curiosity about the prince and his marriage plans.
‘Yes, it is true. He has decided to marry a Dasyu princess from a kingdom to our east, on the Yamunā. She is the Dasyu king’s only daughter, his only child.’
‘How did this come about? Is not this Dasyu king our present king’s enemy? Does he know about the alliance? Why is the Dasyu king giving his daughter to us Aryans?’
‘Why not? The prince, if and when he becomes king, will be a powerful ally. They can support each other in their expansion plans, and the merchants of the two kingdoms enjoy access to both markets. Cumuri already has an army standing by to support Sudās if a civil war breaks out. As far as Sudās is concerned, he gets to become king of Parśuvarta. When Cumuri passes on, Sudās’s son will inherit the Dasyu kingdom.’
‘The pact is mutually beneficial.’
‘Of course.’
Kaśyapa then asked, ‘Is it not wrong for an Aryan to marry a Dasyu?’
‘The Aryans and the Dasyus were once the same people. They split when there was a schism in their religious beliefs. You should ask your guru. He will tell you about this. In fact, this marriage will bring the two peoples together again and invigorate the bloodstock. By the way, did you know that I am a Dasyu?’
‘You are?’ Kaśyapa asked, surprised.
While they were talking, a servant came and told Ghoṣā that a powerful nobleman was waiting to meet her. Kaśyapa had to reluctantly take his leave.
*
Kaśyapa went back and told Agastya what he had learnt. Agastya was intrigued—the Aryans and the Dasyus were once the same people! He immediately rushed to their guru. Happy to see Agastya so curious, Vasiṣṭha called his students together the next day. They gathered in the study shed.
Vasiṣṭha had been away earlier that morning to conduct a small sacrifice to bless the sowing of the second barley crop in the kingdom. Two crops of barley were planted in the kingdom every year. The first crop was planted around the beginning of the month of Saha and reaped and gathered around the middle of Tapa. The second crop was planted around the beginning of Tapasya and reaped and gathered two and a half months later, in the middle of Mādhava. After his return, Vasiṣṭha said to his students, ‘To be different and exclusive is one of the most important and most primal of our instincts. This is the reason why, over time, people separate into different groups. The Aryan-Dasyu divide was one big divide that came about because of religious and political causes.’
He continued, ‘Many generations ago, we were all one people, albeit living in different kingdoms and ruled by different kings, like we now have many Aryan and many Dasyu kingdoms.’
One of the students spoke up, ‘Sir, I find it difficult to believe that we were the same people once.’
‘Then listen. We believe that the world exists and moves according to the laws made by some supreme principle, which dictates that it will also adhere to the law it lays down. This highest principle—that from which all else is derived, the origin of everything—is symbolized through the impersonal figures of Varuṇa, Dyaus, the sky and others.’
‘Is this not contradictory? Why could not the highest principle lay down the law that it is not subject to the law?’
‘Well, the universe would become logically untenable if it is not so. The lawgiver’s existence becomes a contradiction. Go back to the logical fallacies I taught you about.’
This got the students thinking. Kaśyapa said, ‘If the lawgiver ordains that “everything in this universe will obey this law”, and if the lawgiver himself, as part of the universe, does not, his law is broken. However, if we postulate that there is a power that is not subject to this law, then this power has to be outside the universe that obeys its rules. If this is the case, what prevents us from speculating about any number of powers outside that are not subject to the law?’
The guru said, ‘Right. We also know that for us to survive, we need the rains, air and the sun. There are also forces like thunder, lightning and others which are confined to the atmosphere. Indra, Vayu, Surya and the other representations of the sun—powerful, fierce and unpredictable—symbolize this control. To be sure, these forces of nature follow the great laws, but there is so much leeway within these laws that these forces can nurture, nourish, as well as destroy.’
Kaśyapa asked, ‘So, we first have the gods of the highest principles and then we have the gods of the atmosphere.’
‘Yes, and finally, we live on this earth. We live with the creatures and the plants—the benign forces of the earth—which are sometimes destructive and dangerous, but for most of the time they are kind and useful. These forces are symbolized by the personifications of Agni, Paśupati, Rudra and the others. So, the question that comes up sometimes is: “Which among these three classes of gods is the highest? Which among these deserves honour and primacy?”’
Bhārgava asked, ‘Should not the highest principle be given primacy?’
‘These are questions that have vexed our philosophers and teachers generation after generation. Are not the lawmakers, the givers of the law, worthy of this primacy? Maybe not because, having laid down the law, this power contradictorily becomes equal to any other power that is subject to this law. And if they are equal to the others, then how can they be accorded primacy? One way is to attribute certain moral principles to them based on the stories we know about them, just as the dissident group under Jaraduṣṭra is doing. But if the earth and its creatures cease to exist, for who were these laws made? What about the great forces of nature? Are they not worthy of being given primacy? Maybe not, for without the earth and its seas where does the water for the rains come from? Without fire and the seas how will the wind blow? And without the earth, why have these forces at all? Then surely, the benign earth forces need to be given primacy? But the earth is so much at the mercy of the forces of nature!’
Agastya spoke up, ‘I think that it should be left to individuals to choose which gods they will offer sacrifices to and which gods should be given primacy. No god is higher or lower than the others.’
‘Well put. However, whichever different or higher metaphysical levels we ask these questions from, at each level we reach the same deadlock,’ Vasiṣṭha sighed. ‘When these arguments reach a critical level, the political powers come into the fray because they feel that they can take advantage of the discord between different groups to serve their own purpose in the name of the greater good. Our traditions tell us that during the earliest days, many thousand years ago, Varuṇa and the other divine representatives of the highest order were on top. But life was very tough then. It was very cold and Vṛtra had most of the rivers locked up in ice in the northern mountains. Indra defeated Vṛtra and set the waters free—this was a tu
rning point. The free waters flowing through our great rivers completely changed the quality of life for our ancestors; they were thus indebted to Indra. This was when people decided that the atmospheric gods were the most powerful for our civilization and accorded primacy to Indra and the others.’
Vasiṣṭha continued, ‘Then, maybe around five hundred years ago, in one of the kingdoms that flourished then, some of the priests felt that our way of worship, including the ritual sacrifices to Indra and his cohort of gods was impious. They decided that they wanted this to change. This is exactly what our current dissidents under Jaraduṣṭra are saying. However, while these dissidents want to give primacy to Varuṇa and his coterie of gods, the dissidents five hundred years ago felt that the gods of the earth—Agni, Rudra and others, the benign terrestrial gods—were the real powers and should be given primacy. Notably, this idea was supported by the ruling dynasty of the time and some of the important people of the kingdom, which is why this change was immediately implemented. However, another faction of leading nobles rallied round a rebel contender for the throne and insisted on maintaining status quo by continuing with Indra worship and the ritual of offering sacrifices. This passive war grew in intensity. When the right political climate presented itself, a rebellion broke out, culminating in a major civil war. By the end of the war, the ruling regime managed to hold on to power and the rebels and the Indra followers were defeated.
‘The rebel Indra worshippers then fled the kingdom and set up their own communities in other areas. These communities formed smaller kingdoms where the primary focus of all worship was Indra and the other fierce gods; gods who were satisfied only with great sacrifices, gods who were to be pacified only by lakes of soma and mountains of meat. So, the result of this great schism was mainly the change in the way of worship and the focus of worship. The gods worshipped were the same, at least initially.’
The First Aryan Page 7
