by Amish
Shiva sat there, immobile, shivering due to the cold and his grief, stunned into absolute silence, staring into nothingness, holding Sati’s lifeless body in his arms. Despite sitting on ice, Shiva’s brow throbbed desperately, as if a great fire raged within. An angry blackish-red blotch had formed between his brows. He had been sitting thus for many hours. He hadn’t moved. He hadn’t eaten. He had stopped crying. It was almost as if he had chosen to be as lifeless as the love of his life.
Kali sat near the door of the inner room, sobbing loudly, cursing herself for her behaviour during her last meeting with Sati. It was a guilt that she would carry for the rest of her life. Uncontrollable rage was rising within her slowly but steadily. At this point, though, it was still swamped by her grief.
Krittika sat next to the tower of ice, shaking uncontrollably. She had cried till she had no tears left. She kept touching the ice tower every few seconds. Veerbhadra, his eyes swollen red, sat quietly next to her. One arm was around his wife Krittika, drawing as well as giving comfort. But his other arm was stiff, its fist clenched tight. He wanted vengeance. He wanted to torture and annihilate every single person who’d done this to Sati; who had done this to his friend Shiva.
Brahaspati and Tara sat quietly at another end of the room. The former Meluhan chief scientist’s face was soaked with tears. He respected Sati as an icon of the Meluhan way of life. He also knew that Shiva would never be the same again. Ever. Tara kept staring at Shiva as her heart went out to the unfortunate Neelkanth. He was a mere shadow of the confident and friendly man she had met at Pariha.
Kartik and Ganesh sat impassively next to each other on the icy floor, their backs resting against the wall. Their eyes were fixed on the tower, on their father’s paralysed figure on top, holding their mother’s mutilated body. The tears had almost blinded their eyes. The deluge of sorrow had stunned their hearts. They sat quietly, holding hands, desperately trying to make sense of what had happened.
Ganesh thought he saw some movement on top of the ice tower. He looked up to a bewildering sight. His mother seemed to have risen from her body and floated high up in the air. Ganesh moved his gaze back to his father to see another body of his mother, lying still in his father’s arms. Ganesh looked up again at his mother’s apparition, his mouth agape.
Sati flew in a great arc and landed softly in front of Ganesh. Her feet didn’t touch the ground, remaining suspended in the air, just like those of mythical goddesses. She wore a garland of fresh flowers, again like mythical goddesses. But mythical goddesses didn’t bleed. Sati, on the other hand, was bleeding profusely. Ganesh could see her mutilated body as she stood in front of him, her left eye gouged out with a deep cut across her face, leaking blood slowly. The burn scar on her face was flaming red, as though still burning. Her left hand had been sliced through brutally, blood spurting out of the wound in sudden jerks, timed with her heartbeat. There were two massive wounds in her abdomen from which blood was streaming out with the ferocity of a young mountain river. There were several small serrations all across her body, each of them seeping out even more blood. Sati’s right fist was clenched tight, her body shaking with fury. Her right eye was bloodshot, focused directly on Ganesh. Her blood-soaked hair was loose; fluttering, as if a great wind had been assaulting it.
It was a fearsome sight.
Maa...
Maa...
‘Avenge me!’ hissed Sati.
Maa...
‘Avenge me!’
Ganesh pulled his hand away from Kartik’s and clenched it tight. He gritted his teeth and whispered within the confines of his mind. I will, maa!
‘Remember how I died!’ snarled Sati.
I will! I will!
‘Promise me! You will remember how I died!’
I promise, maa! I will always remember!
Sati suddenly vanished. Ganesh reached out with his hand, weeping desperately. ‘Maa!’
At exactly the same time as Ganesh, Kartik too saw his mother’s apparition.
Sati’s spirit appeared to escape from her body and hovered for some time before landing in front of Kartik. Her feet were suspended a little above the ground, a garland of fresh flowers around her neck. But unlike the vision that Ganesh had seen, the apparition in front of Kartik was whole and complete.
There was no wound. She looked exactly the way Kartik remembered seeing her last. Tall of stature and bronze-skinned, she wore a beautiful smile which formed dimples on both her cheeks. Her bright blue eyes shone with gentle radiance, her black hair was tied demurely in a bun. Her erect posture and calm expression reminded Kartik of what she’d symbolised: an uncompromising Meluhan who always put the law and the welfare of others before herself.
Kartik burst out crying.
Maa...
‘My son,’ whispered Sati.
Maa, I will torture everyone! I will kill every single one of them! I will drink their blood! I will burn down this entire city! I will avenge you!
‘No,’ said Sati softly.
A dumbfounded Kartik fell silent.
‘Don’t you remember anything?’
I will remember you forever, maa. And I will make all of Devagiri pay for what they did to you.
Sati’s face became stern.
‘Don’t you remember anything I’ve taught you?’
Kartik remained silent.
‘Vengeance is a waste of time,’ said Sati. ‘I am not important. The only thing that matters is dharma. Do you want to prove your love for me? Do so by doing the right thing. Don’t surrender to anger. Surrender only to dharma.’
Maa...
‘Forget how I died,’ said Sati. ‘Remember how I lived.’
Maa...
‘Promise me! You will remember how I lived.’
I promise, maa... I will always remember...
Chapter 48
The Great Debate
The ones amongst Shiva’s brigade who were seeking vengeance got a boost the next morning. Against all expectations, Bhagirath sailed in at the head of the entire army of two hundred and fifty thousand troops. The Ayodhyan prince had been worried about what would happen to his Lord if the Meluhans tried some trickery at Devagiri. He had marched the troops all the way from Lothal to the Saraswati, through the broad Meluhan highways without a halt, breaking only for brief food breaks and minuscule rest sessions. At the Saraswati, he had commandeered as many merchant ships as possible and raced up the great river, to Devagiri.
‘Oh Lord Ram!’ whispered a stunned Bhagirath.
Gopal had just told Bhagirath about what had occurred at Devagiri and the brutal manner in which Sati had been killed.
‘Where is the Princess’ body?’ asked Chenardhwaj, tears welling up in his eyes.
‘In the peace conference building,’ said Gopal. ‘The Lord Neelkanth is with her. He hasn’t moved from there in the last twenty-four hours. He hasn’t eaten. He hasn’t spoken. He’s just sitting there, holding Princess Sati’s body.’
Chandraketu looked up at the sky. He turned around and wiped away a tear. Those pearls of emotion were signs of weakness in a Kshatriya.
‘We’ll kill every single one of those bastards!’ growled Bhagirath, his knuckles whitening on his clenched fists. ‘We’ll obliterate this entire city. There will be no trace left of this place. They have hurt our living God.’
‘Prince Bhagirath,’ said Gopal, his palms open in supplication. ‘We cannot punish the entire city. We must keep a clear head. We should only punish those who’re responsible for this assassination. We should destroy the Somras factory. We must leave the rest unharmed. That is the right thing to do...’
‘Forgive me, great Vasudev,’ interrupted Chandraketu, ‘but some crimes are so terrible that the entire community must be made to pay. They have killed Lady Sati; and, in such a brutal manner.’
‘But not everyone came out to kill her. A vast majority was not even aware of what the Emperor was up to,’ argued Gopal.
‘They could have come out to stop the k
illing once it had begun, couldn’t they?’ asked Chandraketu. ‘Standing by and watching a sin being committed is as bad as committing it oneself. Don’t the Vasudevs say this?’
‘This is an entirely different context, King Chandraketu,’ said Gopal.
‘I disagree, Panditji,’ said Maatali, the King of Vaishali. ‘Devagiri must pay.’
‘I think Lord Gopal is right, King Maatali,’ said Chenardhwaj, the Lothal governor. ‘We cannot punish everyone in Devagiri for the sins of a few.’
‘Why am I not surprised to hear this?’ asked Maatali.
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ asked Chenardhwaj, stung to the quick.
‘You are a Meluhan,’ said Maatali. ‘You will stand up for your people. We are Chandravanshis. We are the ones who are truly loyal to the Lord Neelkanth.’
Chenardhwaj stepped up close to Maatali threateningly. ‘I rebelled against my own people, against my country’s laws, against my vows of loyalty to Meluha because I am a follower of the Neelkanth. I am loyal to Lord Shiva. And, I don’t need to prove anything to you.’
‘Calm down everyone,’ said Chandraketu, the Branga king. ‘Let’s not forget who the real enemy is.’
‘The real enemy is Devagiri,’ said Maatali. ‘They did this to Lady Sati. They must be punished. It’s as simple as that.’
‘I agree,’ said Bhagirath. ‘We should use the Pashupatiastra.’
Gopal flared with anger. ‘The Pashupatiastra is not some random arrow that can be fired without any thought, Prince Bhagirath. It will leave total death and devastation behind in this area for centuries to come.’
‘Maybe that is what this place deserves,’ said Chandraketu.
‘These are daivi astras,’ said an agitated Gopal. ‘They cannot be used casually to settle disputes among men.’
‘Lord Shiva is not just another man,’ said Bhagirath. ‘He is divine. We must use the weapon to...’
‘We cannot use the Pashupatiastra. That is final,’ said Gopal.
‘I don’t think so, Panditji,’ said Chandraketu. ‘Lady Sati was a great leader and warrior, with the highest moral standards. The Lord Neelkanth loved Lady Sati more than I’ve seen any man love his wife. I’m sure Lord Shiva wants vengeance. And frankly, so do we.’
‘It’s not vengeance that we need, King Chandraketu,’ said Gopal. ‘But justice. The people who did this to Lady Sati must face justice. But only those who were responsible for this perfidy. Nobody else should be punished. For that would be an even bigger injustice.’
‘Yours is the voice of reason, Panditji,’ said Maatali. ‘But this is not the time for reason. This is the time for anger.’
‘I don’t think the Neelkanth will make a decision in anger,’ said Gopal.
‘Then, why don’t we ask Lord Shiva?’ asked Bhagirath. ‘Let him decide.’
‘Kill them all!’ growled Kali. ‘I want this entire city to burn with every one of its citizens in it.’
All the commanders of Shiva, including his family members, were seated in a secluded area on the peace conference platform, outside the main building. Brahaspati and Tara had also joined in, but remained mostly silent. The area had been cordoned off by soldiers to prevent anyone from listening in on the deliberations. Gopal had tried to get Shiva to attend, but the Neelkanth did not respond to any of his entreaties. He remained alone, within the freezing inner chamber, holding Sati.
‘Queen Kali,’ argued Gopal, ‘my apologies for disagreeing with you, but we cannot do this. This is morally wrong.’
‘Didn’t the Meluhans give their word that this is a peace conference? Nobody is supposed to use arms at a peace conference, right? They did something that is very morally wrong. How come you didn’t notice that, Panditji?’
‘Two wrongs don’t make a right.’
‘I don’t care,’ said Kali, waving her hand dismissively. ‘Devagiri will be destroyed. They will pay for what they did to my sister.’
‘Queen Kali,’ said Chenardhwaj carefully. ‘I respect you immensely. You are a great woman. You have always fought for justice. But does punishing an entire city for the crimes of a few serve justice?’
Kali cast him a withering look. ‘I saved your life, Chenardhwaj.’
‘I know, Your Highness. How can I forget that? That is the reason...’
‘You will do what I tell you to do,’ interrupted Kali. ‘My sister will be avenged.’
Chenardhwaj tried to argue. ‘But...’
‘MY SISTER WILL BE AVENGED!’
Chenardhwaj fell silent.
Bhagirath was carefully avoiding this discussion. While walking towards the peace conference building, he had learnt that his sister Anandmayi was in Devagiri. The city would be destroyed, but he had to save his sister first.
‘I agree with Queen Kali,’ said Chandraketu. ‘Devagiri must be destroyed. We must use the Pashupatiastra.’
At the mention of the devastating daivi astra, Kartik spoke up for the first time. ‘The astra cannot be used.’
Gopal looked at Kartik, grateful to have at least one member of the Neelkanth’s family on his side.
‘Justice will be done,’ said Kartik. ‘Maa’s blood will be avenged. But not with the Pashupatiastra. It cannot be done with that terrible weapon.’
‘It must not,’ agreed Gopal immediately. ‘The Neelkanth has given his word to the Vayuputras that he will not use the Pashupatiastra.’
‘If that is the case, then we cannot use it,’ said Bhagirath.
Gopal breathed easy, glad to have pulled at least some of them back from the brink. ‘The question remains, how do we give justice to Princess Sati?’
‘By killing them all!’ roared Kali.
‘But is it fair to kill children who had nothing to do with this?’ asked Bhagirath.
‘You are assuming, Prince Bhagirath,’ said Kali, ‘that Meluhans care for their children.’
‘Your Highness,’ said Bhagirath. ‘Please try to understand that children who had nothing to do with this crime should not be punished.’
‘Fine!’ said Kali. ‘We will let their children out.’
‘And non-combatants as well,’ said Kartik.
‘Particularly the women,’ said Bhagirath. ‘We must let them go. But once they are out, we should destroy the entire city.’
‘Is there anyone else you would like to save?’ asked Kali sarcastically. ‘What about the dogs in Devagiri? Should we lead them out too? Maybe the cockroaches as well?’
Bhagirath did not respond. Anything he said would only inflame Kali further.
Kali cursed. ‘All right! Children and non-combatants will be allowed out. Everyone else will remain prisoner in the city. And they will all be killed.’
‘Agreed,’ said Bhagirath. ‘All I’m saying is that we should be fair.’
‘That is not all there is to it, Prince Bhagirath,’ erupted Kartik. ‘The Somras is not to be destroyed. My father had been very clear about that. It is only supposed to be taken out of the equation. We do have to destroy the Somras factory. But we also have to ensure that the knowledge of the Somras is not lost. We have to save the scientists and take them to a secret location. They will be a part of the tribe that my father will leave behind. These people will keep the knowledge of the Somras alive. Today it is Evil, but there may come a time in the future when the Somras may be Good again.’
Gopal nodded. ‘Kartik has spoken wisely.’
‘This means that even if some of these scientists had something to do with my mother’s death,’ said Kartik, ‘we have to set aside our pain and save them. We have to save them for the sake of India’s future.’
Ganesh glared at Kartik with dagger eyes.
‘Set aside our pain?’
Kartik became silent.
Ganesh was breathing heavily, barely able to keep a hold on his emotions. ‘Don’t you feel any anger about maa’s death? Any rage? Any fury?’
‘Dada, what I was trying to say...’
‘You always received maa’s
love on a platter, from the day you were born. That’s why you don’t value it!’
‘Dada...’
‘Ask me about the value of a mother’s love... Ask me how much you hanker for it when you don’t have it!’
‘Dada, I loved her too. You know I...’
‘Did you see her body, Kartik?’
‘Dada...’
‘Did you? Have you looked at her body?’
‘Dada, of course, I have...’
‘There are fifty-one wounds on her! I counted them, Kartik! Fifty-one!’
‘I know...’
Furious tears were pouring down Ganesh’s face. ‘Those bastards must have continued hacking at her even after she was dead!’
‘Dada, listen...’
Ganesh’s body was shaking with anger now. ‘Didn’t you feel any rage when you saw your mother’s mutilated body?’
‘Of course I did, dada, but...’
‘But?! What but can there be? She was attacked by many of those Somras-worshipping demons simultaneously! It is our duty to avenge her! Our duty! It is the least we can do for the best mother in the world!’
‘Dada, she was the best mother... But she taught us to always put the world before ourselves.’
Ganesh didn’t say anything. His long floppy nose had stiffened, like it did on the rare occasions when he was enraged.
Kartik spoke softly. ‘Dada, if we were any other family I would give in to my rage... But we are not.’
Ganesh looked away, too livid to even respond.
‘We are the family of the Neelkanth,’ said Kartik. ‘We have a responsibility to the world.’
‘Responsibility to the world?! My parents are my world!’
