The Krishna Key

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The Krishna Key Page 5

by Ashwin Sanghi


  ‘Sir, I may be young in age, but I have seen my fair share of crooks. You certainly do not fall into that category. How long do I need to keep him occupied?’ asked Taarak smiling.

  ‘No more than ten minutes. That would give Priya and me enough time to pull out a couple of uniforms from the rear of the truck and slip away. Professor—you please stay in the car. Only come looking for us at the offices of Immuno if we’re not back in an hour,’ said Saini to Kurkude as he got out of the car. Priya followed him. They stopped some distance away as they waited for their chauffeur to walk up to the truck driver who was coordinating the unloading of the truck.

  ‘You wouldn’t have a cigarette that I could bum off you?’ asked Taarak amiably when he reached the truck. The truck driver looked at him curiously. ‘What do I look like? A paan-bidi stall? Get lost!’ growled the truck driver.

  Taarak knew that there were only two ways to engage—either by being friendly or by being a jerk. Since the former approach hadn’t worked he had tried the latter. Taarak shuffled a little closer to the truck driver and whispered in his face, ‘You don’t look like a shopkeeper at all. More like a drug pusher!’

  The driver used his right arm to aim a blow to Taarak’s torso. Taarak swiftly sidestepped it and used his left hand to strike the outside of the truck driver’s offending arm, thus leaving the right hand side of the trucker’s body completely exposed. Taarak took advantage of it and delivered a single knee kick, which caused the truck driver to fall to the ground, clutching his leg in pain. By now a crowd had gathered around the two fighting men and it was the perfect opportunity for Saini and Priya to get into the truck. enclosed within a circle.an

  Once inside, they quickly picked out janitorial uniforms with caps, besides window-cleaning sprays and dusters. They slipped out while the fight between Taarak and the truck driver was in full momentum, running towards the rear of the building where the garbage disposal area was located. They changed into their uniforms in double-quick time behind a dumpster and then walked over to the main entrance of the building. In front of them was the elevator bank.

  ‘Immuno occupies the fourth, fifth and sixth floors of the building,’ said Saini. ‘We should go directly to the sixth floor—where Chhedi’s office is located—and start cleaning. Our effort should be to blend in with the office routine and to make our way to Chhedi’s office drawing virtually no attention to ourselves.’

  On its way up the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. Two men got into the elevator and Saini gasped inwardly as he recognised one of them as Sub-Inspector Rathore. Saini immediately turned away towards the wall and began cleaning the U-shaped stainless steel handrail that ran on three sides of the elevator. He thanked his stars for not having shaved over several days. Priya took the cue, adjusted her cap downwards so as to partially block her face, got down on her knees and began cleaning the corners of the elevator floor. Saini was praying under his breath, trying his level best to remain calm.

  Rathore was talking to Radhika Singh on his mobile phone. ‘Yes, there are more than a dozen men at strategic points on the three floors. I have also stationed men downstairs in the main atrium so that no sudden exit is possible on Saini’s part,’ reported Rathore to his domineering boss. Saini exhaled in relief when Rathore and the other man got off on the fifth floor.

  As they reached the sixth, both Saini and Priya gathered their cleaning supplies and walked into the office of Immuno Molecular Life Sciences Limited. The receptionist ignored them. They were simply janitorial staff, the lowest in the pecking order. Saini walked up to the receptionist’s table, wished her politely, and did a quick spray and cleaning of the fascia of the reception desk. Priya noticed what looked like two plainclothesmen sitting in the visitors’ area from the corner of her eye and was careful to avoid venturing near them. She busied herself cleaning the glossy walnut-finished laminate that lined the passage walls leading towards the executive offices.

  King Dhritarashtra realised that before Draupadi uttered a curse, it was best that he intervene. He immediately ordered that everything that had been lost by Yudhistira be returned to the Pandavas, but Yudhistira was a glutton for punishment. Despite protestations and warnings from his family, Yudhistira was once again convinced by Duryodhana to play another round of dice in which Yudhistira lost yet again. As per the wager, the loser would be exiled to the forests for twelve years and would have to spend an additional thirteenth year incognito. In order to satisfy the conditions of the bet, the Pandavas, along with Draupadi, went into exile, leaving their mother Kunti to be cared for by Vidura. I was unaware of all these happenings because I had been busy repelling the kings who had attacked Dwarka.

  Suspecting that the fight had gotten out of hand, a group of onlookers intervened and created some distance between the truck driver and Taarak. The truck driver was too busy nursing his knee to notice Taarak slipping away. The crowd mulled around the truck driver who was shouting obscenities, and Taarak used the opportunity to make his escape.,’ replied Sir Khanext on the Kaliyuga

  Taking purposeful and rapid strides, he reached his car in a remote corner of the parking lot. Professor Kurkude was sitting in the rear seat with the window down, reading a newspaper that he had bought from a vendor. Taarak opened the front door, got into the driver’s seat and started up the engine.

  ‘Hey! We can’t leave yet,’ protested Kurkude. ‘I’m supposed to go looking for them in case they’re not back with us within an hour.’

  ‘I understand, sir. It’s just that they had asked me to cause a distraction. I think I did it a tad too efficiently,’ remarked Taarak. ‘It’s better that we get away from here for half an hour till the crowd clears up. We’ll be back in time, I promise you.’

  The car began rolling and within a short while they were on Sarovar Path heading towards Sukhna Lake, a massive manmade three-kilometre-long lake that had been created by building a dam on a seasonal stream. Chandigarh residents would visit the lake in the mornings or evenings for their walk or run. The lake also served as a popular picnic spot and a hub for pursuing water sports such as boating, yachting and water skiing.

  Upon reaching the lake, Taarak steered the car towards the Lake Reserved Forest—a wide expanse of dense woods. He parked the car and got out. He opened the rear door for Kurkude and said, ‘We’ll need to spend fifteen minutes here. Luckily this area is secluded and it should be possible to get back to Chandigarh Corporate Plaza from here in another ten.’

  The professor got out of the car and the two men strolled along the Jungle Trail that led to the Lake Reserved Forest. Kurkude did not notice that his driver was wearing a special belt pack around his waist.

  Five minutes into the Jungle Trail, all human presence vanished and it became evident that the two men were alone. Taarak missed a step, allowing Kurkude to overtake him along the narrow pathway. The good professor was unaware that a chloroform-soaked handkerchief was about to be clamped around his nose and mouth. As Taarak’s handkerchief made contact with Kurkude’s face, the professor registered a look of terror as he struggled to avoid the fumes—but it was of no use. He was no match for Taarak’s years of training.

  No sooner had Kurkude passed out than Taarak picked up his comatose frame and placed him under a large peepal tree. Taking out his duct tape he quickly bound Kurkude’s hands and gagged his mouth. He searched inside his waist pouch and found the self-inking rubber stamp that he had kept ready especially for this occasion. He carefully placed the rubber end on Kurkude’s head. The symbol that emerged on Kurkude’s forehead was that of a conch—yet another symbol of Vishnu.

  Taking out a fresh scalpel, duly custom-engraved with the initials R.M., Taarak knelt down over Kurkude’s outstretched foot and, with his usual precision, thrust the scalpel into Kurkude’s left sole, leaving it embedded inside the flesh. Blood spurted from the foot as Taarak took out the paintbrush from his belt pack.

  ‘You are special, Professor Kurkude,’ he thought to himself as he dipped the paint
brush into Kurkude’s blood. ‘You get to die exactly as Lord Krishna did. Under a peepal tree.’ Taarak began to write on the bark above Kurkude’s head:

  Mleccha-nivaha-nidhane kalayasi karavalam

  dhumaketum iva kim api karalam

  kesava dhrita-kalki-sarira jaya jagadisa hare.

  Having surveyed his handiwork, Taarak gathered up all the tools of his trade and walked over to the car that was parked a short distance away. In his head, he could hear echoes of the conversation that had taken place between him and Mataji many months previously.

  ‘I shall do whatever you say, Mataji. But could you please explain to me why I must kill these men? They’re simply scientists and researchers,’ said Taarak.

  ‘But they’re doing the work of Satan,’ spat Mataji. ‘They’re busy trying to dig up the eighth avatar of Vishnu while the tenth is far more important. Tell me, son, what happens when you place ten before eight? You get 108! The most powerful number in the world! Use the power, Taarak!’

  ‘Your wish is my command, Mataji,’ said Taarak respectfully. ‘But could you tell me what these men have done that deserves death?’

  ‘These men are busy searching for a secret that was left behind by Krishna,’ said Mataji angrily. ‘They cursorily read the Mahabharata and think to themselves, what could be this earth-shattering secret? Their little minds dwell on the Brahmastra—the divine weapon that could cause the destruction of a nuclear bomb. In so doing, they overlook the key secrets within the Bhagwad Gita—the sermon delivered by Krishna to Arjuna on the battlefield!’

  ‘Specifically, which part of the Bhagwad Gita are you referring to, Mataji?’ asked Taarak.

  ‘Remember the part when Krishna tells Arjuna, I am transcendental, beyond both the fallible and the infallible. And because I am the greatest, unborn and infallible, I am celebrated both in the world and in the Vedas as that Supreme Person. My transcendental body never deteriorates. I am without origin, middle or end. I am the generating seed of all existence,’ recited Mataji from her perfect memory.

  ‘How does this provide a clue to finding the Krishna Key?’ asked Taarak.

  ‘The fools who read these passages think that Krishna is talking about his divine self. Alternatively, they think that he is alluding to the permanence of the soul. Indeed, Krishna does talk about this when he says, that which pervades the entire body you should know to be indestructible. No one is able to destroy that imperishable soul. But the fools do not understand that this passage about the indestructibility of the soul is not the same as the passage about Krishna’s own infallibility, his permanence, or the fact that he is the generating seed of all existence!’

  ‘So what does the earlier passage recited by you actually mean?’ asked Taarak.

  ‘It means that Krishna is alive! If Krishna is transcendental, infallible, unborn, and his body never deteriorates; if Krishna is without origin, middle or end and if he—Krishna—is the generating seed of all existence, then the only obvious conclusion is that he is alive!’ thundered Mataji, as she continued counting her beads feverishly.

  Emerging victorious from my battle to protect Dwarka, I rushed back to Hastinapur, but it was too late. I eventually found the Pandavas a enclosed within a circle.. erme Rnd Draupadi on the outskirts of the city. Bhima wanted to fight and take back their kingdom but I told him, ‘You allowed your brother to wager everything. All of you are equally responsible. You must live thirteen years in exile as per the wager. It’s your dharma.’ Draupadi asked me, ‘Was it my fault that I was wagered?’ I cautiously replied, ‘No, but it was you who insulted Karana as well as Duryodhana on previous occasions—this is the consequence. Don’t worry, Draupadi, everyone who sat there watching you being humiliated will pay a heavy price. But first, all of you must get through these thirteen years! In the meantime, Subhadra, her son Abhimanyu, and Draupadi’s children, shall move to Dwarka where I shall ensure that they are looked after.’

  Saini and Priya mopped their way towards the executive office belonging to Chhedi. It was easy enough to find

  because it was located at the very end of the walnut-veneered wall that ran along the length of the passage. Unlike Kurkude’s office, which had the secretary seated in an outer office room, Chhedi’s office was independently accessed with the secretary seated in a separate cabin adjacent to that of her boss. An unmanned reception area outside Chhedi’s office provided a few plush sofas and magazines for Chhedi’s visitors.

  Priya walked into the private reception area and began cleaning the sofas while Saini strolled towards Chhedi’s office door and began polishing the handle. Within a minute, he had twisted the handle downwards, opened the door and walked in. Chhedi was alone, seated behind an enormous desk. He looked up as he saw his office door open. ‘My office has already been cleaned in the morning,’ he snapped absentmindedly at the janitorial duo.

  ‘Dumpy, it’s me,’ whispered Saini as he closed the door behind Priya and him.

  ‘Roger?’ asked Chhedi curiously. ‘Why are you in a cleaner’s uniform?’

  ‘Oh, so you spoke down to me from your high and mighty perch only because I was a lowly janitor?’ joked Saini. ‘On a serious note, though, it was the only way to reach you without being observed by the cops who are swarming all over.’

  ‘And who is this fine lady with you?’ asked Chhedi, his naughty eyes twinkling as he shook hands with Saini.

  ‘This is Priya, my doctoral student. She has been on the run with me ever since Varshney’s life was taken,’ explained Saini as he realised that Chhedi had transferred a small piece of paper to his palm while shaking hands. Saini tried reading it but was unable to, because the writing was smudged from the sweat of his palms.

  On a television screen in the secretary’s room, Radhika Singh was sitting and watching Saini enter Chhedi’s office. The camera microphone was also activated and every word of the conversation was being recorded. She watched Saini and Priya settle down in the visitors’ chairs opposite Chhedi’s at the desk. Chhedi was saying, ‘I have tried my best to keep the police out of my personal office. Please talk freely and tell me everything. I’ll do whatever I can to help.’ Radhika smiled. It had been a great idea to occupy the secretary’s office because it was equipped with a camera and recording device. Chhedi often liked his meetings to be recorded so that his secretary could minute them later.

  ‘Do you have the fourth seal?’ asked Saini. Chhedi nodded and took out something from his desk drawer. He passed it to Saini who opened the envelope and carefully extract,’ replied Sir Khan a on the ed the seal. He felt a tingle of excitement when he saw that the fourth seal was almost identical to the other three and definitely part of a set.

  ‘Our school buddy—Varshney—had four such seals,’ explained Saini. ‘As of date, one is with the police, and two are missing. I have brought along with me photographs of the three others. Would you mind if we place them on your desk and try to make some sense of them?’

  ‘Isn’t this seal the equivalent of Krishna’s passport system?’ asked Chhedi.

  ‘Yes,’ said Saini. ‘The Harivamsa says Mudrayaasah gacchantu rajno ye gantumipsavah; Na chamudra praveshtavyo dwaarpaalasya pashyatah… it’s a directive that every citizen of Dwarka should carry a mudra—or seal—as a mark of identification and that it is the duty of the guards to see that every citizen carries the seal and that none without a seal are allowed to enter.’

  ‘And what is the relevance of the three animals that are depicted on the seal?’ asked Chhedi.

  ‘These are motifs of a bull, unicorn and goat. They’re considered to be representations of Vishnu. There are references to a very prominent unicorn in the Mahabharata called the “Ekashringa”—literally, the one-horned,’ explained Saini.

  ‘And, if you bring these seals together, what should they tell you?’ asked Chhedi. ‘In fact, what makes you believe that these four seals are not simply four isolated artefacts?’

  ‘Because they’re virtually identical—except for minor
variations. The position of the three-headed animal appears slightly differently on each seal, but the faces are not even slightly at variance to one another, Dumpy. Varshney himself told me that they even had a base plate that was later lodged in a temple built by Raja Man Singh in the sixteenth century,’ said Saini. ‘Do you have a pair of scissors that I could borrow?’

  Chhedi plucked scissors from the leather box on his desk and offered it to Saini.

  ‘Now could I request you to access my web mail on your computer and take a printout of the photographs that Varshney had sent me of the four seals?’ asked Saini. Chhedi obliged and soon Saini had all four photographs before him. He compared Chhedi’s actual seal with the fourth photograph just to be sure that the photographs were indeed of the very same artefacts.

  Saini then took the photographs that Chhedi had printed out and cut them into squares so that they resembled the actual seals. Taking the four photographs, he started shuffling them around on the table, almost as though he were solving a child’s jigsaw puzzle. A few minutes later, a smile appeared on his face.

  ‘Do you see what I see?’ he asked Chhedi and Priya. Priya caught on immediately. It was impossible not to be stunned by the symbolism of the swastika that lay before them.

  The Chandal Chaukdi—the devious foursome consisting of Duryodhana, Dusshasana, Shakuni and Karana—decided to attack the Pandavas in the forest and finish them off ,’ replied Sir Khanwork on the Kaliyugaonce and for all. Vidura pleaded before Dhritarashtra to stop them, but the blind king ended up scolding Vidura instead. Angry and hurt, Vidura decided to leave Hastinapur and go join the Pandavas in the forests. Soon thereafter, Dhritarashtra repented and sent messengers to bring Vidura back while disallowing any attack on the Pandavas. Since they could not attack the Pandavas, the Kauravas decided to humiliate them by setting out on a cattle census. They established their base camp near the Pandavas and cooked the very best gourmet delights in order to torment the Pandavas. Unfortunately for the Kauravas, they were attacked and captured by the forest Gandharvas, the divine messengers between the gods and humans. Not forgetting their duty, the Pandavas rescued the Kauravas from the Gandharvas, thus leaving the Chandal Chaukdi shamefaced.

 

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