Immortals of Meluha

by Amish Tripathi

  Brahaspati was standing in the centre of the room, his hands folded in a namaste. Of medium height, much shorter than Shiva, his wheat-coloured skin, deep set eyes and well-manicured beard gave Brahaspati a distinguished appearance. A clean shaven head, except for the choti and a serene expression, gave his face an intellectual look. His body was slightly overweight. His broad shoulders and barrel chest would have been markedly pronounced if they had been exercised a bit, but Brahaspati’s body was a vehicle for his intellect and not the temple that it is to a warrior or Kshatriya. Brahaspati wore a typical white cotton dhoti and an angvastram draped loosely over his shoulders. He wore a janau tied from his left shoulder down to the right side of his hips.

  ‘How are you Kanakhala?’ asked Brahaspati. ‘It has been a long time.’

  ‘Yes it has, Brahaspati,’ said Kanakhala, greeting Brahaspati with a namaste and a low bow.

  Shiva noticed that the second amulet on Brahaspati’s arm showed him as a swan. A very select chosen-tribe among Brahmins.

  ‘This is Lord Shiva,’ said Kanakhala, pointing towards Shiva.

  ‘Just Shiva will do, thank you,’ smiled Shiva, with a polite namaste towards Brahaspati.

  ‘Alright then. Just Shiva it is. And, who might you be?’ asked Brahaspati, turning towards Nandi.

  ‘This is Captain Nandi,’ answered Kanakhala. ‘Lord Shiva’s aide.’

  ‘A pleasure to meet you, Captain,’ said Brahaspati, before turning back to Shiva. ‘I don’t mean to sound rude Shiva. But would it be possible for me to see your throat’

  Shiva nodded. As he took off his cravat, Brahaspati came forward to examine the throat. His smile disappeared as he saw Shiva’s throat radiating a bright blue hue. Brahaspati was speechless for a few moments. Slowly gathering his wits, he turned towards Kanakhala. ‘This is not a fraud. The colour comes from the inside. How is this possible? This means that...’

  ‘Yes,’ said Kanakhala softly, with a happiness that seemed to emanate from deep inside. ‘It means the Neelkanth has come. Our saviour has come.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know if I am a saviour or anything like that,’ said an embarrassed Shiva, retying the cravat around his throat. ‘But I will certainly try my best to help your wonderful country. It is for this reason that I come to you. Something tells me that it is important for me to know how the Somras works.’

  Brahaspati still seemed to be in a daze. He continued to watch Shiva but his attention seemed elsewhere. He appeared to be working out the implications of the true Neelkanth’s arrival.

  ‘Brahaspati...’ said Kanakhala, as she tried to call the chief scientist back into the here and now.

  ‘Huh!’

  ‘Can you tell me how the Somras works, Brahaspati?’ asked Shiva again.

  ‘Of course,’ said Brahaspati, as his eyes refocused on the people in front of him. Noticing Nandi he asked, ‘Is it alright to speak in front of the captain?’

  ‘Nandi has been my friend through my time in Meluha,’ said Shiva. ‘I hope it is alright if he stays here.’

  Nandi felt touched that his Lord still trusted him so openly. Nandi swore once again, on pain of death, to never lie to his Lord.

  ‘Whatever you say, Shiva,’ said Brahaspati, smiling warmly.

  Shiva noticed that Brahaspati was not submissive or excessively deferential on discovering that he was the Neelkanth. Just like Parvateshwar, Brahaspati called Shiva by his name and not ‘My Lord’. However, Shiva felt that while Parvateshwar’s attitude was driven by a distrusting surliness, Brahaspati’s was driven perhaps by an assured affability.

  ‘Thank you,’ smiled Shiva. ‘So, how does the Somras work?’

  The royal procession moved slowly on the road to Mount Mandar. There was a pilot guard of one hundred and sixty cavalrymen who rode before the five royal carriages in columns of four abreast. A rearguard of another one hundred and sixty rode behind the royal carriages, in a similar formation. A side guard of forty each marched along the left and right flanks. Each carriage also had ten soldiers and five serving maids seated on the side supports. The soldiers were the legendary Arishtanemi, the most feared militia in all of India.

  The five carriages were made of solid wood, with no windows or apertures, except for upward pointed slits at the top for ventilation. There was a grill in front, behind the rider, to allow in light and air and this could be shut instantly in case of an attack. All the carriages were of exactly the same dimension and appearance, making it impossible to say which carriage carried the royal family. If a person had divyadrishti, divine vision, to look beyond what human eyes could see, he would observe that the first, third and fourth carriages were empty. The second carried the royal family — Daksha, his wife Veerini and his daughter Sati. The last carriage carried Parvateshwar and some of his key brigadiers.

  ‘Father, I still don’t understand why you insist on taking me along to pujas. I am not even allowed to attend the main ceremony,’ said Sati.

  ‘I have told you many times before,’ smiled Daksha, as he patted Sati’s hand fondly. ‘None of my pujas are complete and pure till I have seen your face. I don’t care about the damned law.’

  ‘Father!’ whispered Sati with an embarrassed smile and a slight, reproachful shake of her head. She knew it was wrong of her father to insult the law.

  Sati’s mother, Veerini, looked at Daksha with an awkward smile. Then taking a quick look at Sati, returned to her book.

  At a short distance from the royal procession, hidden by the dense forest, a small band of fifty soldiers slunk along silently. The soldiers wore light leather armour on their torso and had their dhotis tied in military style to ensure ease of movement. Each of them bore two swords, a long knife and had a hardshield made of metal and leather tied loosely around their back. Their shoes had grooves to hold three small knives. At the head were two men. One of them, a handsome young man with a battle scar embellishing his face, wore a dark brown turban which signified that he was the captain. His leather armour had been tied a little loose and a gold chain and pendant had slipped out carelessly. The pendant had a beautiful, white representation of a horizontal crescent moon, the Chandravanshi symbol.

  Next to him walked a giant of a man covered in a long robe from head to toe. A hood stitched onto the robe was pulled up while his face was covered with a black mask. Very Ettle of him was visible except for his strong fleshy hands and his expressionless, almond-shaped eyes. He had a leather bracelet tied to his right wrist with the serpent Aum symbol embroidered on it. Without turning to the captain, the hooded figure said, ‘Vishwadyumna, your mark is visible. Put it in and tighten your armour.’

  An embarrassed Vishwadyumna immediately pushed the chain inside and puEed the two strings on the side of his shoulder to tighten the breastplate.

  ‘My Lord, begging your pardon,’ said Vishwadyumna. ‘But perhaps we could move ahead to confirm that this is the route to Mount Mandar. Once we know that, we’ll be sure that our informant was correct. I am sure that we can come back to kidnap her later. We are dangerously outnumbered in any case. We can’t do anything right now.’

  The hooded figure replied calmly, ‘Vishwadyumna, have I ordered an attack? Where does the question of us being outnumbered come in? And we are going in the direction of Mount Mandar. A few hours delay will not bring the heavens down. For now, we follow.’

  Vishwadyumna swallowed hard. There was nothing he hated more than opposing his lord’s views. After all, it was his lord who had found the rare Suryavanshi sympathetic to their cause. This breakthrough would make it possible for them to rip out and destroy the very heart of Meluha. He spoke softly, ‘But my Lord, you know the Queen doesn’t like delays. There is unrest brewing amongst the men that perhaps the focus is being lost.’

  The hooded figure turned sharply. His body seemed to convey anger but his voice was composed. ‘I am not losing focus. If you want to leave, please go. You will get your money. I will do this alone if I have to.’

  Shocked to see t
he rare show of emotion on his leader, Vishwadyumna retracted immediately. ‘No, my Lord. That is not what I was trying to imply. I am sorry. I will stay with you till you release me. You are right. A few hours will make no difference when we have waited for centuries.’

  The platoon continued tracking the royal caravan silendy.

  ‘At a conceptual level, how the Somras works is ridiculously simple,’ said Brahaspati. ‘The almost impossible task was to convert the concept into reality. That was the genius of Lord Brahma. Jai Shri Brahma!’

  ‘Jai Shri Brahma,’ repeated Shiva, Kanakhala and Nandi.

  ‘Before understanding how the medicine slows down the ageing process dramatically, we have to understand what keeps us alive,’ said Brahaspati. ‘There is a fundamental thing that none of us can live without.’

  Shiva stared at Brahaspati, waiting for him to expound.

  ‘And that fundamental thing is energy,’ explained Brahaspati. ‘When we walk, talk, think, that is when we do anything that can be called being alive, we use energy.’

  ‘We have a similar concept amongst our people,’ said Shiva. ‘Except, we call it Shakti.’

  ‘Shakti?’ asked a surprised Brahaspati. ‘Interesting. That word has not been used to describe energy for many centuries. It was a term of the Pandyas, the ancestors of all the people of India. Do you know where your tribe came from? Their lineage?’

  ‘I am not really sure but there is an old woman in my tribe who claims to know everything about our history. Perhaps we should ask her when she comes to Devagiri.’

  ‘Perhaps we should!’ smiled Brahaspati. ‘In any case, getting back to the subject, we know nothing can be done by our body without energy. Now where does this energy come from?’

  ‘From the food that we eat?’ suggested Nandi, timidly. He was finally getting the confidence to speak in front of such important people.

  ‘Absolutely right. The food that we eat stores energy, which we can expend. That’s also why if we don’t eat, we feel weak. However, you don’t get energy just by eating food. Something inside the body has to draw the energy so that we can put it to good use.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ agreed Shiva.

  ‘The conversion of food into energy is done by the air we breathe,’ continued Brahaspati. ‘The air has various gases in it. One of these gases is called oxygen, which reacts with our food and releases energy. If we don’t get oxygen, our body would be starved of energy and we would die.’

  ‘But this is the process that keeps us alive,’ said Shiva. ‘What does the medicine have to do with it? The medicine has to work on that which causes us to grow old, become weaker and die.’

  Brahaspati smiled. ‘What I told you does have something to do with how we age. Because as it appears, nature has a sense of humour. The very thing that keeps us alive is also what causes us to age and eventually die. When oxygen reacts with our food to release energy, it also releases free radicals called oxidants. These oxidants are toxic as well. When you leave any fruit out and it goes bad, it’s because it has been “oxidised” or the oxidants have reacted with it to make it rot. A similar “oxidising process” causes metals to corrode. It happens especially with the new metal we have discovered — iron. The same thing happens to our body when we breathe in oxygen. The oxygen helps convert the food we eat into energy. But it also causes the release of oxidants into our body which start reacting inside us. We rust from the inside out, and hence age and die.’

  ‘By the holy god Agni!’ exclaimed Nandi. ‘The very thing that gives us life also slowly kills us?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Brahaspati. ‘Think about it. The body tries to store everything that you need from the outside world to survive. It stores enough food so that even if you don’t eat for a few days you won’t die. It stocks up on water so that a few days of thirst will not kill you. It seems logical, right? If your body needs something, it keeps some of it as backup for possible shortages.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ agreed Shiva.

  ‘On the other hand, the body does not store enough oxygen, the most crucial component of staying alive, to last for more than just a few minutes. It doesn’t make sense at all. The only explanation can be that the body realises that despite being an elixir, oxygen is also a poison. Hence it is dangerous to store.’

  ‘So, what did Lord Brahma do?’ asked Shiva.

  ‘After a lot of research, Lord Brahma invented the Somras, which when consumed, reacts with the oxidants, absorbs them and then expels them from the body as sweat or urine. Because of the Somras, there are no oxidants left in the body’

  ‘Is that why the sweat released from the body is poisonous the first time after a person drinks the Somras?’

  ‘Yes. Your sweat is particularly dangerous the first time after you drink the Somras. Having said that, remember, sweat and urine released from the body even after a person has drunk the Somras for years remains toxic. So you have to eject it from the body and make sure that it does not affect anyone else.’

  ‘So, that’s why the Meluhans are so obsessed with hygiene.’

  ‘Yes. That’s why all Meluhans are taught about two things from a young age — water and hygiene. Water is the cleanest absorber of the effluents that the Somras generates and excretes as toxins. Meluhans are taught to drink gallons of water. And everything that can be washed, should be washed! The Meluhans bathe at least twice a day. All ablutions are done in specific rooms and the waste is carried out by underground drains safely out of the city’

  ‘Strict hygiene standards!’ smiled Shiva, as he remembered his first day in Kashmir and Ayurvati’s strong words. ‘What goes into manufacturing the Somras?’

  ‘Manufacturing the Somras is not without its fair share of difficulties. It requires various ingredients that are not easily available. For example, the Sanjeevani tree. The empire has giant plantations to produce these trees. The manufacturing procedure also generates a lot of heat. So we have to use a lot of water during the processing to keep the mixture stable. Also, the crushed branches of the Sanjeevani tree have to be churned with the waters of the Saraswati river before processing begins. Water from other sources doesn’t work’

  ‘Is that the strange noise I keep hearing: the churners?’

  ‘That’s exacty what it is. We have giant churning machines in a massive cavern at the base of this mountain. The Saraswati waters are led in here through a complex system of canals. The water is collected in an enormous pool in the cavern which we affectionately call Sagar.’

  ‘Sagar An ocean You call a pool of water by that name?’ asked a surprised Shiva, for he had heard legends about the massive, never-ending expanse of water called Sagar.

  ‘It is a bit of hyperbole,’ admitted Brahaspati with a smile. ‘But if you did see the size of the pool, you would realise that we are not that off the mark!’

  ‘Well I would certainly like to see the entire facility. It was too late when we came in last night so I haven’t seen much of the mountain as yet.’

  ‘I will take you around after lunch,’ said Brahaspati.

  Shiva grinned in reply. He was about to say something, but checked himself in time, looking at both Kanakhala and Nandi.

  Brahaspati noticed the hesitation. He felt Shiva might want to ask him something, but not in front of Nandi and Kanakhala. Brahaspati turned to them and said, ‘I think Shiva wants to ask me something. May I request you to wait outside?’

  It was a measure of the respect that Brahaspati commanded, that Kanakhala immediately rose to leave the room after a formal namaste, followed by Nandi. Brahaspati turned to Shiva with a smile. ‘Why don’t you ask me the real question you came to ask?’

  CHAPTER 9

  Love and its Consequences

  ‘I didn’t want to question you in front of them. Their faith is overwhelming,’ explained Shiva with a wry grin. He was beginning to like Brahaspati. He enjoyed being around a man who treated him like an equal.

  Brahaspati nodded. ‘I understand, my friend. What do yo
u want to ask?’

  ‘Why me?’ asked Shiva. Why did the Somras have this strange effect on me? I might have a blue throat, but I don’t know how I am going to become the saviour of the Suryavanshis. The Emperor tells me that I am supposed to be the one who will complete Lord Ram’s unfinished work and destroy the Chandravanshis.’

  ‘He told you that?’ asked Brahaspati, his eyes wide in surprise. ‘The Emperor can be a little tiresome at times. But suffice it to say that what he told you is not completely correct. The legend doesn’t exactly say that the Neelkanth will save the Suryavanshis. The legend says two things. First, that the Neelkanth will not be from the Sapt-Sindhu. And second, the Neelkanth will be the “destroyer of evil”. The Meluhans believe that this implies that the Neelkanth will destroy the Chandravanshis, since they are obviously evil. But destroying the Chandravanshis doesn’t mean that the Suryavanshis will be saved! There are many other problems, besides the Chandravanshis, that we need to solve.’

  ‘What kind of problems? Like the Nagas?’

  Brahaspati seemed to hesitate for a moment. He replied carefully. ‘There are many problems. We are working hard to solve them. But coming back to your question, why did the Somras have this effect on you?’

  ‘Yes, why did it? Why did my throat turn blue? Forget about stopping the degeneration of my body, the Somras actually repaired a dislocated shoulder and a frostbitten toe.’

  ‘It repaired an injury?’ asked an incredulous Brahaspati. ‘That’s impossible! It is just supposed to prevent diseases and ageing, not repair injuries.’

  ‘Well, it did in my case.’