Muladeva bowed his head at his turn and pulled out his own common cowries. They were plain compared to the king’s ornamental ones. He then rolled his hand. Once again, it was the number three.
The king picked up his cowries, and this time, he rolled with his left hand deftly. A roar erupted from the crowd. All five had landed open side up! The bet was on! Muladeva would now have to get the king’s pyjamas or die. Kali had given her call and she was certainly in favour of the king. The emperor stood up and marched out to return to the palace and organize his guards for Muladeva’s attempted intrusion. Muladeva bowed and followed the king and as he exited, then suddenly turning around, he winked at the girls who had been sitting next to him throughout the evening. They knew what they had to do as the owner scurried around. The house was going to make a killing tonight, taking bets from those who wanted to wager side bets on who the winner would be. Everyone was betting on the side of the king recognizing the impossibility of Muladeva succeeding. Only Muladeva’s two courtesan friends had bet on his side, getting 101 to 1 odds in their favour.
‘He plays dice not just with cowries but stakes his life. There is no algorithm that can defeat him,’ Hafiz spoke thoughtfully. ‘Algorithms are built on information inside history itself, but Muladeva throws wild cards and now there is no predicting the future. Yuva, if I’m right, the lesson here is that AIman’s Unified Intelligence algorithm and his too rational a brain cannot solve the challenge that a never-seen-before bluff presents.’
Yuva smiled and twirled his cane playfully. He let out a mischievous whistle that surprised us all, ‘Are algorithms trustworthy when faced with a surprise? The powerful have strength and speed; the vulnerable prey has unpredictability.’
Hafiz nodded his head.
Tegh was filled with curiosity, ‘Muladeva is an exceptional man and will be a formidable enemy. Do I need to find out what these tiger claws are?’
Yuva remained silent and just smiled.
‘Muladeva is a free man and freedom has presented him more options,’ I remarked quietly. But my mind was somewhere else. I felt for Muladeva. ‘I sense a deep sadness, some loneliness inside him, Yuva,’ I said, turning to my mentor. ‘He seems very principled in his own way and caring for people. But why is he daring life and is uncaring for his own self?’
‘I think I understand his emptiness,’ the lama said insightfully. ‘Dawn, he wants more in life—no different than anyone else. It is just that his obsessive compulsion to live on the edge and seek new thrills have wired him differently as to what satisfies him. But unlike others who wreak havoc, he is aware of his condition and through his social actions, he corrects it,’ said Tan, empathetically. ‘What intrigued me was what he said about the frozen horsemen warriors sounds so similar to the ones in Xi’an.’
‘That is quite interesting, Tan,’ Tabah said. ‘Whether it was the gambler who faked his death or his teacher Muladeva who bet his head, the ability to save face even in the face of an extreme threat by his willingness to sacrifice himself seems to be his secret.’
Yuva put his palms up, interjecting, ‘My Pandavas, it seems Muladeva has already taught you a lot on how to trap Arman, who is firmly in the grip of Dushita. He is not yet satisfied and wants to experience power over life even as it dies with his touch. Tabah, the learning here is that addiction is what will lead one towards destruction. If you can bait Arman with the high from a sacrifice that he seeks, then he will become your captive, the way that Muladeva has trapped the king.’
‘But what high can Tabah possibly promise? After all, this is the mad man who last experienced a high after killing all the women on the planet. What can possibly exceed that?’ I asked.
My question went unanswered and Yuva, not looking at me, just told us to hurry because we needed to see what Muladeva would do next. I walked grudgingly, trying to catch his eye, but there was no rushing Yuva.
We saw Muladeva stepping out of the gambling den and walking briskly. He seemed to be in good humour and had started whistling to himself. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metallic object that shone in the moonlight. He held it by the thumb and the little finger. From the looks of it, it was a claw. Horrified, I looked at the others, but they too were mesmerized by the object. The secret hand-held weapon did have a lethal appeal to it, I had to admit. Something about it caused Muladeva to exult and he softly let out a cat’s meow.
As he reached the river, Muladeva headed to a small abandoned stone structure with steps leading down to the bank. He picked a container and from it started rubbing himself with lard. When he had finished, his body was shiny and slippery. He bowed to an oval stone that was mounted on a stand and poured water on it while murmuring incantations. It was similar to what my mother had in her meditation room. Then he picked up a long lotus stem and started walking down to the edge of the river that was flowing silently, shimmering in the moonlight.
Across the river and downstream was the king’s palace. Sentries had been placed every few yards and were arranged in three layers. Muladeva quietly submerged himself in the water, and breathing through the lotus stem tube, he slowly moved towards the palace. When he reached the other side, undetected by the guards, it was to land near a drain pipe that was jutting out from under the ground into the river.
‘What is he doing?’ asked Tegh. We were all wondering too.
Yuva answered, ‘Do you see those buckets hanging with a rope from the log with a weight at its end—at the bank of the river? These are the ghati yantras that were invented in Kashmir to draw water from the river. This clever idea travelled wide and in time came to be known as the Persian wheel. The palace has many of these because the king likes huge fountain displays, and the tanks must be filled to the brim to accommodate his fancy on short notice. When the fountains operate, the large body of water has to be drained and it comes rushing through this big pipe.’
Tabah, who had a very flexible body, was able to quickly catch the drift and understood the plan, ‘So, Muladeva is going to shimmy through the pipe and slip through, literally, under the noses of the guards. He will reach the palace, but how will he get the king to part with his pyjamas?’
Muladeva, dripping with water, his muscular body shiny smooth with the lard, entered the pipe. He seemed impervious to claustrophobia. ‘Once again, it seems that Muladeva is willing to put himself under extreme stress that others cannot even think of. Because of this, he is able to find openings that are unimaginable to others,’ admired Tabah. ‘Muladeva must have phenomenal concentration to block all fears and see nothing. He is blocking out everything else except for the opening in the pipe at the end.’
Tegh was crisp, ‘No pain no gain, brother. The warrior who is resistant to the sting of death wins. My beheaded ancestor held his head in his hand and continued fighting till victory.’
‘Really?’ Hafiz asked. Yuva nodded his head in appreciation and agreement.
Sure enough, soon Muladeva was in the garden outside the bedroom where the king was sleeping soundly. The sound of his snoring carried itself to the sentries who had been ordered to periodically call out ‘Hoshiyar’ so that they would stay awake and alert. We followed Muladeva inside, but thankfully not through the pipes. And there he was—the overweight king asleep in his silk pyjamas that shimmered and slid smoothly as he moved in his sleep. On the other side where lay the entry door to his bedroom, there was another contingent of guards outside, but none had anticipated an entry from the garden side. Muladeva had found the flaw in the three-layer sentry defence.
I watched Muladeva survey everything in the lush, beautiful garden. He walked over to a nearby anthill and slowly scooped ants into the bamboo tube. Tegh suddenly shouted, ‘Look out!’, but of course, Muladeva could neither see nor hear us. A snake that had been eating the ants had been disturbed and reared its head ready to strike. But Muladeva was like a mongoose. With his claws in his right hand, he grabbed the snake and tossed it far away. He then quickly went back to the king’s c
hamber. Very quietly, he began to blow into the wooden bamboo tube. The ants inside floated out and landed on the bed and over the king’s stomach and legs. As they scurried, the restless king began to feel itchy. In his sleep, he began to scratch himself, but more and more ants fell on top of him. Finally, irritated, he kicked off his pyjamas and turned around to sleep on his stomach. Quick as a flash, Muladeva picked up the pyjamas and was gone! The sound of a satisfied cat’s purr floated in the air.
It was game over.
We were suddenly transported outside the den near the glittering river. ‘What happened? Where is Muladeva?’ asked Tabah, looking around. The cock crowed that it was dawn. The last hand was being dealt in the den. The losers were all-in, in a desperate do-or-die gambit. And then in walked Muladeva. A roar went up as the bettors saw him swinging the silk pyjamas over his head like a victory banner. The two courtesans screamed with joy at the realization that their winnings were secured.
‘Come with me to my village,’ implored one, ‘Your ants-in-the-pants trick has immortalized you. Leave this behind now. I have enough money to last both of us for many lifetimes.’
Muladeva shook his head, ‘Yes, I am leaving, never to return. I will now go to the land of Karpurasambhava and be the king there. It is a land populated by robots. In the bustling market, you will see supposed merchants, women and local citizens. They move as if alive but silently.’
‘But why?’ she asked, horrified.
‘The solitary human there—the controller king has died. There is an emptiness and purposiveness there that suits me. The city represents the zenith of yantra technology. It is there that I will meet Karpurika, the woman who I have always wanted to meet.’
‘Who is this enchanting woman?’
‘I have never met her. But she appears to me in my dreams as a heavenly swan. She tells me that she cannot bear to be with any man as she is suffering from what happened to her in a previous life. Yet, she awaits me.’
‘One can never be sure when it comes to Muladeva and his stories. The girls bid him goodbye and that was the last that he was seen of,’ Yuva explained patiently.
Hafiz had more questions than he could handle, ‘Yuva, was there really a robot kingdom, that too in that ancient era? What other yantras and mechanical devices were there?’
‘Yes,’ said Yuva, ‘there was once such a city. But these robots had no speech—that was an indication for the humans to consider themselves safe. The yantras of yore, in some ways, were more advanced than the QuGene technology today.’
‘Hmm, you mean that we have lost precious knowledge. How? And . . . why were the robots silent?’
‘While speaking, one offers the gift of breath to the energy of speech. While silent, one offers the gift of speech to the energy of breath. In this kingdom, Life Breath is held supreme and thus not to be wasted.’
I wondered what the hidden secret of Life Breath was that it was hoarded so closely by these people.
As everyone bombarded Yuva with questions about this ancient yet advanced land, my mind was elsewhere. ‘Did Muladeva ever find his true love?’ I said, breaking the line of questioning. ‘Will we see him again?’ I asked.
‘What do you think?’
‘I believe . . . I want to believe that he found her. There was nothing that he went after that he did not get. I hope we meet them together one day. If the God of Love found true love, then the suffering from his addiction would disappear. If Karpurika did too, then it would have put an end to her suffering also.’
I just wanted a happy ending.
Sarga 7
Conquer or Die
Xi’an, China
‘Meghavahana and Muladeva were so different and yet so alike,’ I said to my mother. I’d just woken up and my mind was still full of wondrous thoughts.
‘They were both samshaptaka or sworn warriors and . . . and so am I.’ She was standing in the compact kitchenette that connected to our small living space. ‘That is the oath I take each day when I enter the meditation room.’
‘What! What . . . who are these warrior oath keepers? It’s like I am learning new things about you every day! Why did you never tell me this?’ I howled, unable to look at her.
‘Dawn,’ she said, closing the electronic cleansing system. ‘Don’t be angry, my love. The time wasn’t right. Maybe you wouldn’t have understood if I’d told you earlier and what would have been the point anyway . . . Everything changed when you met Yuva—I then knew that there was no turning back. Our past was calling out to us. Our reverse migration journey has begun. Now you must know everything.’ She had tears in her pleading eyes.
I stormed to my room, infuriated. I felt like I had been slapped hard across my face. In all my life in this metallic pod, my mother was all I had, and we were the perfect team. All we had was each other and this felt like a betrayal, for I assumed she told me everything, except about my father. It had always pained her, so I let it go. But as I thought more about it, sulking in my room, I felt horrible at the way I had behaved. I had never been this rude to my mother in my life.
‘Dawn, could you please let it go?’ came a voice from behind. I turned to see my mother carrying a tray of breakfast. ‘This had never come up, and frankly, in all these years trying to survive here all alone, I guess I just forgot.’ She placed the tray on my bed and took my hand. ‘I’ve made your favourite—porridge with strawberry extract.’ That made me smile; strawberry was only reserved for special occasions as it was hard to grow.
‘From now on no more secrets, please!’ I said, almost snatching my breakfast.
Between mouthfuls, I said, ‘Tell me about the samshaptaka.’
‘They were the earliest Yodhas, the Viras, the Jeddis—different names for the same. Their first mention was heard more than six thousand years ago when King Susarma built a fort in ancient Nagarkot, which later came to be known as Kangra. Both Kashmir and Kangra, out of a misplaced sense of family loyalty, fought against the Pandavas.’
‘Of the Mahabharata?’ maej had told me the stories from the epic multiple times. I really liked Lord Krishna and had learnt so much from him.
She nodded. ‘King Susarma’s army was tasked to distract and kill Arjuna, the strongest Pandava, whose teacher was Lord Krishna. Susarma’s sworn warriors first went through their funeral rites and then went into battle with their slogan Conquer or Die. They were so fierce that they nearly won, even achieving the impossible task of injuring Lord Krishna, but in a desperate move, Arjuna created an illusion of himself. The samshaptaka warriors fired and wasted their weapons at a mirage and were eventually all killed. And so, an Arjuna lesson was learnt. From that time onwards, the oath keepers were sworn to what sustains life and not materialistic power and so, their oath became Conquer or Die for Life.’
‘Pretty intense, maej. But how did you become one of them?’ I said, polishing off the rest of my breakfast.
‘Well, 1,500 years ago, the grandfather of the brave Kota Rani—the last queen of Kashmir—carried this lineage from this very Nagarkot Fort over to the Valley. Over time, the pro-life lesson espoused by the Pandavas was forgotten, and people reverted to the earlier failed materialistic thinking of forcibly acquiring land, gold and women. They became the merchants of death. But a small secret group who were followers of Kota Rani continued among the Kashmiris to the present day. They were present in every walk of life.’
‘Conquer or Die for Life is a very different way to live life,’ I considered. ‘Could this be the only way to look at the evil Troika in our war?’
‘Yes. The oath keepers had three great caves that they visited to die and conquer.’
‘What? Why would they go into caves, away from people? Isn’t that the exact opposite of “conquer”?’
‘Not exactly,’ she said, sipping her tea. ‘To conquer for life as opposed to destroy means to create. Before one can create something new, one must dissolve the old. This is what these three great caves did.’
‘The caves did this?’
I looked puzzled.
‘Uh-huh,’ she nodded. ‘They would force total sensory deprivation and put one in a trance where they could then be released and connected with their Cognition Twin. The most renowned caves at doing this were known as Amarnath, Bahurupa and this one—the most secret one—the Cave of Trisirsha,’ she said, her arms moving to trace the expanse of the pod.
‘Wow! This? Really?’ I said, looking around as if hoping to see some sudden fireworks. ‘Where we live? We are in the cave of . . . Wait, why did you pick this one to hide in, maej?’
‘Well, only the Vidyadharis could pass through the cave, which is why it was truly safe.’
‘Is it? Safe, I mean?
‘Well, if you look at the terrain, this cave runs through the Himalayan Mountains from the south to the north. Rishabha was the ruler of both sides, China and India. He is considered to be the first spiritual teacher of the Jain people, a peaceful community.’
‘So Rishabha created the cave?’
She shook her head. ‘It was made by the great First Yogi who resided on the top of Mount Kailash. He had left this cave with his trident to create a pathway for Rishabha, who then would not have to fly over the First Yogi, which would have been a great insult.’ She stopped and looked around for a long time. ‘There’s a lot of history in these walls,’ she said, smilingly. ‘You know, this is actually a jewel cave with the walls inside bequeathed with countless gems radiating brilliant colours all over. The southern entrance is guarded by the Mahamaya Shield, named after the Vidyadhari chief of whom I am a descendant. At the northern entrance, where I have not permitted you to go to, is the shield of Kaalaratri, the invincible Chandika!’
‘Jewels? I thought those were frozen ice and icy rocks that glittered!’ I tried hard to visually recall the walls in the cave that I had been seeing every single day as I zoomed through the passageway, perfecting my flying lessons on my newly acquired antigravity belt. Mine was powered by an antihydrogen atom generator that opposed gravity. My smart suit protected me from the release of gamma rays when the anti-matter collided with the matter. But it had never occurred to me that there could be actual jewels in the walls of the cave. I made a mental note to check it out later in the day.
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