Tenth Avatar: A quest for answers

by Kanchan Joshi

  Krish’s impression of Prisha’s parents was not very positive. They seem like mean-spirited bullies. We got married to make them happy, yet still they’re pissed, he thought.

  Prisha’s father piled on, “Be careful, or you will lose everything. What if you develop a disease or get fired? It’s all too common in these new companies and big cities. No guarantee of a wife when you come home and no guarantee of job when you go to work. In India, it’s becoming all too common, just like the west. Hope you two don’t get divorced! You guys are quite modern and westernized, not traditional like us and your sister.”

  Receiving such unkind words as soon as they entered the home set the tone for the rest of the evening. Krish was at a loss of how to react. After all, these folks were his wife’s parents.

  In their minds, Prisha was too focused on success—more than their egos could tolerate. They wanted her to fall on her face so as to teach her a lesson.

  “So Krish, do you have a job or is she feeding you? Are your parents okay with you not working? Did they instigate you to marry her so that she could pay for your hobbies—research, I believe you call it? Did you create all this misunderstanding between us? Prisha was not like this before she met you. You changed her with your western ways. What kind of a man are you? I’m not even sure you are a man,” her father fired missile after verbal missile. They were taking turns humiliating the newlyweds.

  “Be careful when you do it. You don’t need another mouth to feed when you don’t have a job. If we’re interrupting your intimate time, we will leave. I know you are newly married. You must be like bunnies!” Prisha’s mother added. “You have put on some weight. Your size looks bigger,” she twisted the knife into the wound just a bit deeper to make sure the damage had been done.

  “Are you going to take her to the US, or do you have somebody else there? You spent some time together, you know, the ‘love them and leave them’ culture!” her father winked menacingly.

  Prisha was almost reduced to tears by the barrage of insults from her own parents. They were pressing all the buttons to make her pay for her perceived mistakes, independence, and success.

  It pained Krish to witness the attacks on his wife and himself. They had even insulted his parents. This drama, and the ruthless jabs from people so close to them, was a major storm rocking the boat of their young marriage.

  Although not completely unexpected, the savagery and sleaziness of the attacks was creating a very toxic environment. Marriage, career, and life in a large city was stressful enough as it was. Prisha needed emotional support at this delicate juncture in her life. Instead, what she got was extremely personal attacks at close range. It enhanced the sense of abandonment and lack of moral support she had been experiencing.

  Krish thought, just like the leaders who influence people and their actions, parents also have a major impact on a person’s life. People who have not realized their true power are most vulnerable. I need to double down on my work so that I can prove the true power humans have—make Prisha realize it, and free her from her helpless state.

  The bad blood created by Prisha’s parents spoiled the fun the couple were having in the honeymoon phase of their marriage. As a diversion, Krish focused on his research. He contacted Professor Kimble of Cambridge University and informed him of the findings within Ramanujan’s lost pages.

  “I found eighteen new functions described. Eighteen! These are special cases of mock modular forms that show super symmetry only at certain points—unlike the mock modular functions that don’t show super symmetry at all. I need to test these functions and generate some experimental data and new particles,” Krish explained.

  “Try the Compact Muon Solenoid at CERN, the European Organization for Nuclear Research, in Switzerland. I saw data gathered from millions of images taken per second as particles collided at almost the speed of light. There is a treasure trove of data and new sub atomic particles being generated every second!” the professor suggested.

  Anton also introduced Krish to a senior staff member at CERN who would arrange for his pick up from the airport and help plan experiments he needed. Krish was ready to get away from Mumbai and put some distance between him and the family theatrics.

  Krish touched down at the Zurich airport. The Swiss Alps made for a pleasant backdrop befitting the beautiful country. It’s as if the mountains were welcoming everyone and providing a glimpse of the natural beauty awaiting exploration in the rest of the country. Krish saw a tall man in uniform holding a board with his name on it.

  “Welcome, sir. I’m Finn, let me get your bag. There will be a short flight to Geneva from here,” he said. Finn was burly, six feet tall, with blonde hair and brown eyes. He wore a dark suit and black sunglasses.

  They would leave for Geneva the next day out of a private airport.

  The next morning was crisp, sunny, and beautiful. Krish enjoyed his ride to the airport. He had the car’s sunroof open as he drove past the mountains—fresh air in his lungs and stunning views of the Swiss Alps to adore. He remembered his drives in California, with views of the blue ocean interspersed with inviting sandy beaches as his driving companion. But, despite the tranquility of this moment, he had a feeling something bad was about to happen—in some unexpected way, some screw up somewhere. He had learned to recognize nature’s way of setting you up by starting the day in a great way, then ending it with a disaster—only to make the sting of disaster hurt more.

  Krish boarded the flight to Geneva. The flight arranged by CERN was practically empty, with just one other passenger and Finn on board. The other passenger was a South Asian looking man who was busy reading his newspaper. The warm towel the air hostess offered felt fantastic on Krish’s face. Ten minutes into the flight, the hostess returned to serve drinks.

  “Orange juice please,” Krish said. He looked at her to make sure she understood his half-Americanized accent. Finn, sitting in the row behind Krish, got up in a flash and strangled the unsuspecting air hostess—leaving her body in a heap on the ground.

  “Time to die, Mr. Scientist,” Finn said, landing a powerful blow to Krish’s nose.

  Krish was dazed as his nose started bleeding profusely.

  Finn moved toward the pilot’s cabin to hijack the plane and kill the pilot.

  The tall man sitting a few rows behind Krish ran toward him. He grabbed Krish by the collar of his shirt.

  “Friendly. I have been watching you and your would-be assassin. Let’s go before the plane goes down or he comes back. Feel like skydiving?” He took two harnesses out of his backpack, handing one to Krish as he stepped into his own. He joined the two harnessed by clips, opened the exit door, and dove from the airplane with practiced precision and speed.

  Before he could even recover from being punched in the face, Krish was in the middle of a free-fall at 120 miles per hour.

  “Not your first time, I suppose. I fancied skydiving, but not like this,” Krish shouted, not sure if his savior heard it. Krish tightly hugged the man from behind as they plummeted. “I hope you have a parachute. Otherwise, thanks in advance for breaking my fall.”

  “Stretch your hands, stop strangling my neck!” the man signaled as Krish desperately tried to hold on to him.

  Feeling the immense pressure of the wind as it hit his face, Krish could barely keep his eyes open. Even though he was clearly speeding toward the ground, he found himself wondering if gravity was real. He suddenly noticed a huge net stretching all around him from the airplane above to the Earth below. The fishnet was made of three-dimensional space and time. He had become just a point weighing 155 lbs. There was no gravitational force acting on him. He was just passing through this net that was curved due the presence of mass and energy. As he passed along the curve, it appeared that gravity was acting on him.

  Wow! I’m feeling gravity in my bones! Amazing! Feeling the force is much better than writing an equation for it! Krish thought. The recent news about LIGO, Laser Interferometer Gravitational-wave Observatory, c
ame to his mind. Recently, gravitational waves from two black holes, that collided more than a billion years ago, were uncovered by LIGO detectors located in Louisiana and Washington. Displacement of the order of one-ten-thousandth of the diameter of a proton was measured. In the future, instruments that are similar to the kind used at LIGO will be so sensitive and accurate that every gravitational wave—such as the one generated by this fall when I hit the ground—can be detected. Imagine what that would mean. The world can be experienced in high resolution. That would be so cool! What else could it mean?

  “Legs in an L-shape, bend down, start jogging soon,” Krish heard somebody yelling.

  His hallucination was broken. Krish was brought back to terra firma by his savior as the parachute was deployed, and they approached the ground and landed.

  Krish was caught in the crossfire between government and rogue nations who wanted his research. The enemies felt that he was an easy target as soon as he left India. If they couldn’t have him, they were ready to kill him so that the other side couldn’t have him either. Krish knew there was not much he could do about the recent attempt on his life.

  His work at CERN was progressing rapidly and his experiments were generating terabytes of data to be analyzed. He studied the effect of subtle and focused external force fields on the collisions of particles and their self-assembly into bigger particles. Using Ramanujan’s newly discovered functions to predict the outcomes of these experiments, he was working with a great sense of urgency on his complex and passionate research.

  Krish hadn’t called Prisha since his arrival. He was missing her and wanted to share the progress and recent events with her. He set aside some time to connect.

  “Hi sweetie, how’s it going? My work is progressing well,” Krish said, trying to update his better half without causing too much panic. “How is your work?” Krish asked.

  “They fired me from my own company! The company that I started! They took away all my projects—projects that I conceived. They fired me via e-mail, an e-mail with acknowledgment of receipt to sender!” Prisha raged.

  “Oh no! What? They can’t do that!” Krish couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Go to your mom and dad’s to feel better,” he said instinctively. Krish realized that being booted from the company that she co-founded would be really hard for her to cope with. It would be equivalent to losing a baby for her. She had put in a lot of sweat and tears into the venture.

  “My parents told me not to step foot in their house,” she said coldly. She couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice even as she tried to mimic her father’s stern tone. “So, what was I saying… yes, the Olympics. The black athletes—don’t ask, don’t tell, development of navigable waterways,” she paused. “Oh boy, man landed on the moon. Oh, I can see the man on the moon! Or is it the sun? I think man landed on the sun. Did you eat? I’m hungry. I got to eat shit, bye. Don’t fuck with a hot Swiss chick, you cheater! Don’t put your head in that fucking long collider machine or it will get smashed. Ciao!” Prisha abruptly disconnected the phone.

  Krish had no idea what she was talking about. He assumed that she was just in shock due to her unceremonious loss from the company she had given life to. This could also be psychosis—incoherent thoughts and speech. These could be early signs of something serious. I’m really worried about her. This is a cry for help! This was not an ideal time to be stuck in Switzerland. But, he couldn’t leave. With the tight schedule he was working at CERN, and scientists from all over the world lining up for experiments and data, he was lucky to have found a spot in the agenda. The director at CERN had custom built parts and software to conduct the experiments Krish had proposed. Everybody knew these were great ideas that would advance science by leaps and bounds.

  “I’m not sure when I’ll get access to another collider if I miss this opportunity. My advisor and Professor Kimble have put their word in to get me a spot on the schedule. I can’t waste it. I can’t leave until all these experiments are finished,” Krish said to his collaborator.

  Prisha would have to fight these demons on her own for now.

  By the time Krish left work, it was evening. It was the beginning of the spring season. He saw colors everywhere he looked. The vibrant green trees in full bloom, lush grass, the velvet Bougainvillea—the purple and pink flowers—were complemented magnificently by the ever-changing colors of the evening sky.

  Krish was driving east. He could see glimpses of the colorful evening he was leaving behind in the side and rear view mirrors. On the other hand, the sky in front of him was dark blue, leaning over rugged, stony mountains. Slowly, the darkness of the evening encroached upon the superb display of colors and painted everything black.

  For the last month, Krish had enjoyed his wife’s company, finding Ramanujan’s lost papers, and working at CERN. But, the path ahead was tortuous. With Prisha’s health issues and the constant threats to his life from rogue organizations, Krish sensed obstacles that would severely test his focus and commitment in his quest for knowledge.

  Chapter 11

  The Teacher Removes Doubts and Guides

  ~~~~~

  Ancient India

  ~~~~~

  Truth removes fear.

  Meeting with Agastya Muni had completely rejuvenated Ram.

  “I feel energized, and in my mind I see myself victorious in the battle with Ravan. I am sure of success. Now, it is time to make this mental image a reality,” Ram expressed to his brother.

  Ram’s positivity had rubbed off on Lakshman, Vanara King Sugriv, and Hanuman. Ram and Hanuman’s friendship had blossomed into a student-teacher mentorship.

  “Shree Ram, you have helped me along my yogic journey. Whenever I say your name, I instantly come in touch with the subtle energies within me and attain a meditative state. I am indebted to you forever,” Hanuman said with heartfelt gratitude.

  The monsoon rains were over. Sugriv and his comrades had indulged to their heart’s content in females, booze, food, sleep, and other physical pleasures throughout the rainy season. They had lived in the forest for too long and were enjoying the luxuries of city life.

  One such evening, the Vanara were enjoying a beautiful dance recital as musicians played sensuous music. The sweet smell of roses and smoke from hallucinogens filled the assembly halls. The halls were decked with different varieties of flowers and an abundance of fruits, honey, sweets, meats, and milk available for enjoyment. The floors were covered with thick rugs and the walls with tantalizing paintings and carvings.

  “The curvaceous dancer and her gentle mudras remind me of the curves and bends of the jasmine laden with fragrant flowers,” said one enthusiastic Vanara as he sipped his beverage from an hourglass-shaped, golden cup.

  Each noble Vanara sat on a comfortable, low-lying bed with a cotton mattress fitted in silk sheets and plenty of soft, cylindrical pillows for support. A small wooden table, with intricate carvings and curved legs, was placed in front of the bed. A red, silk cloth decorated the table.

  “I need one more drink. Come sit next to me and serve,” said one noble Vanara to a hostess.

  Scantily clad ladies made sure the gold cups constantly overflowed with alcohol using their long, delicately handled, silver containers with an elongated, curved spout. There was an excess of food, alcohol, hallucinogens, male and female escorts, dance, and music for everybody’s enjoyment. Plenty of experts, trained in the art of enjoying and giving sensuous pleasures, were at hand to enhance the guests’ experience.

  The royals, enjoying their evening, were shaken out of their slumber by the sudden sound of loud, warning drums beating within the palace.

  “The drums warn of an emergency. What the hell? My mood has been spoiled,” complained one noble to his hostess.

  The loud beating of the drum was followed by a thundering sound that scared the assembly senseless and destroyed any remaining effects of the alcohol in their systems. Everyone sought to seek cover.

  Guards came in panting, barely ab
le to speak, “Maharaj, a missile has been seen flying over the city. An arrow with a message attached to it landed just outside the palace. It came from the mountain region where Prince Ram has been reportedly living. It has a terse message: ‘Be here tomorrow at sunrise. Preparations begin now.’”

  The entire assembly understood that Ram and his brother had fired a warning shot. The time for indulgences was over, and the time to prepare for battle was upon them!

  The next day, after some apologizing from the Vanara for their indulgences and delay, the meeting commenced.

  Ram addressed the assembly of thousands of Vanara, “Warriors, get ready to embrace glory and defeat the evil Ravan. Achieve permanent protection of your southern borders. Obtain advanced weaponry. Protect the way of life that stresses enjoyment, but also freedom, justice, culture, and the pursuit of higher, spiritual goals. Har Har Mahadev! Victory to the Great God!”

  “Har Har Mahadev,” the Vanara roared back.

  “Enough of this drug-induced slumber,” King Sugriv said to his army. “It is time to fight as warriors for our motherland—for a just cause. Let us sacrifice today to lay the foundation for stability and prosperity for generations to come!” He used both arms to lift his heavy mace over his gold crown.

  “Long live the brave king!” his men shouted as they raised their weapons high above their heads.

  “I will discuss strategy with your leaders,” Ram said. “You will get orders and details from them.”

  All the leaders walked to a large cave in the Kishkindha Mountains. They sat on stone seats.

  Ram wore a coarse cotton white dhoti. His hair tied in matted locks. Heavy metal armor protected his muscular chest. He held a tall, double curved bow in his right hand, two quivers full of arrows tied to his back, and a short sword hung by his waist for close combat.