Immortals of Meluha

by Amish Tripathi

  Vishwadyumna turned and paddled vigorously towards the bank. On the way he passed some of his other soldiers. ‘Row quickly. The Lord’s life is in danger.’

  The other soldiers paddled towards the area where the hooded figure had dived into the river. The water had turned red with blood from the battle raging under water. The soldiers said a silent prayer to Lord Varun, the god of the water and the seas, hoping that the blood did not belong to their Lord.

  One of the soldiers was about to jump into the water with his sword when the hooded figure emerged onto the surface, soaked in blood. It was that of the crocodile. He swam forcefully towards the other woman who was on the verge of losing consciousness. Reaching her in the nick of time, he pulled her head out of the water. Meanwhile, two of the Chandravanshi soldiers dived off their coracle.

  ‘My Lord, please get into the boat,’ said one of them. ‘We will swim ashore.’

  ‘Help the woman first,’ replied the hooded figure.

  The soldiers pulled the unconscious woman on to the coracle. The hooded figure then carefully climbed aboard and rowed towards the shore. By the time the hooded figure reached the river bank, the other woman had been revived by Vishwadyumna. She sat disoriented at the rapid chain of events.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Vishwadyumna asked the woman.

  In answer, the woman looked beyond Vishwadyumna and screamed. Vishwadyumna turned around. On the river bank, the hooded figure was coming ashore carrying the other woman’s limp body. His clothes were glued to his massive body. To the disoriented woman, the crocodile’s blood all over his clothes, seemed like that of her friend.

  ‘What have you done, you beast?’ shrieked the woman.

  The Naga looked up abruptly. His eyes showed mild surprise. He, however, refrained from saying anything. He gently laid the unconscious woman on the ground. As he did so, the mask on his face came undone. The woman next to Vishwadyumna stared at him with horror.

  ‘Naga!’ she screeched.

  Before Vishwadyumna could react, she leapt to her feet and fled screaming, ‘Help! Help! A Naga is eating my friend!’

  The Naga looked at the fleeing woman with melancholic eyes. He shut the windows to his tormented soul and shook his head slightly. Vishwadyumna meanwhile turned to see his Lord’s face for the first time in years. He immediately lowered his gaze, but not before he had seen the rare emotion of intense pain and sorrow in his Lord’s normally expressionless eyes. Seething in anger, Vishwadyumna drew his sword, swearing to slay the ungrateful wench he had just saved.

  ‘No, Vishwadyumna,’ ordered the Naga. Pulling his mask back on, he turned to his other soldiers. ‘Revive her.’

  ‘My Lord,’ argued Vishwadyumna. ‘Her friend will bring others here. Let’s leave this woman to her fate and go.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But my Lord, someone may come soon. We must escape.’

  ‘Not till we’ve saved her,’ said the Naga, in his usual calm voice.

  The royal party, including Nandi and Veerbhadra, were sitting together enjoying their lunch in the courtyard of the rest-house they had stopped at. Half the brigade too was eating their meal. They needed all the energy they could gather to march in this scorching heat. Parvateshwar had come in to check on the food arrangements. He was especially concerned about Sati’s comfort. However, he had refused to join them. He was going to eat later with his soldiers.

  A loud commotion from the area of one of the perimeter guards disturbed Shiva. He got up to investigate, motioning to Brahaspati, Nandi and Veerbhadra to remain seated. Parvateshwar too had heard the racket and was moving towards the uproar.

  ‘Please save her!’ cried the woman. ‘A Naga is eating her alive!’

  ‘I am sorry,’ answered the captain. ‘But we have strict orders. We are not to leave the vicinity of this rest-house under any circumstances.’

  ‘What is the matter?’ asked Parvateshwar.

  Turning in surprise, the captain saluted and bowed low.

  ‘My Lord,’ said the captain. ‘This woman alleges that a Naga has attacked her friend. She’s asking us to help her.’

  Parvateshwar looked at the woman intensely. He would have liked nothing more than to chase the Naga party and destroy them. But his orders were crystal clear. He was not to leave the Neelkanth and Sati. Their protection was the only objective of the brigade. But he was a Kshatriya. What kind of Kshatriya would he be if he didn’t fight to protect the weak? Seething at the restrictions forced upon him, Parvateshwar was about to say something when Shiva appeared.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Shiva.

  ‘My Lord,’ said the captain in awe. He could not believe that he was actually getting a chance to converse with the Neelkanth. This woman claims that her friend has been attacked by Nagas. We are concerned that it may be a trap. We have heard about the Chandravanshi duplicity on the Mount Mandar road.’

  Shiva heard his inner voice cry. ‘Go backl Help her!’

  Drawing his sword in one smooth motion he told the woman, ‘Take me to your friend.’

  Parvateshwar looked at Shiva with respect. It was mild, but it was respect all the same. He immediately drew his own sword and turned to the captain, ‘Follow us with your platoon. Brigadier Vraka, put the entire brigade on alert for any surprise attack. The princess must be kept safe at all costs!’

  Shiva and Parvateshwar ran behind the woman who seemed to lead them with ease. She was obviously a local. The captain trailed them with his platoon of thirty soldiers. After sprinting for the larger part of half an hour, they finally reached the riverside to find a dazed woman sitting on the ground. With heavy breaths, she was staring in shock at an imaginary vision in the distance. There was blood all over her clothes, but strangely, no injury to her. There were many footsteps that appeared to be coming out of the river and going back in.

  The captain looked at the woman who had led them here with suspicious eyes. Turning to his soldiers, he ordered, ‘Form a perimeter around the General and the Neelkanth. It could be a trap.’

  ‘She was being eaten alive, I tell you,’ screeched the woman, absolutely stunned to see her friend alive and unharmed.

  ‘No she wasn’t,’ said Shiva calmly. He pointed at the corpse of the crocodile floating in the river. A large flock of crows had settled on the carcass, fighting viciously over its entrails. ‘Somebody just saved her from that crocodile.’

  ‘Whoever it was has rowed across the river, my Lord,’ said the captain, pointing towards the heavy footmarks close to the river.

  ‘Why would a Naga risk his own life to save this woman?’ asked Shiva.

  Parvateshwar seemed as surprised. This was completely unlike the usual blood thirsty Nagas they had dealt with till now.

  ‘My Lords,’ said the captain, addressing both Shiva and Parvateshwar. ‘The women appear safe. Perhaps it is not wise for everybody to stay here. If I have your permission, I will escort these women back to their village and rejoin the caravan at Kotdwaar. You could retire to the rest-house.’

  ‘All right,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘Take four soldiers with you just in case.’

  Both Shiva and Parvateshwar walked back, baffled by this bizarre event.

  It was late in the evening. Shiva, Brahaspati, Nandi and Veerbhadra sat quietly around the camp fire. Shiva turned to see Sad sitting at a distance, on the rest-house veranda, along with Ayurvati and Krittika, having a serious conversation. Parvateshwar as usual, moved among his soldiers, personally supervising the security arrangements of the camp and the comfort of his boys.

  ‘It’s ready, Shiva,’ said Veerbhadra, handing over the chillum to the Neelkanth.

  Shiva brought the pipe up to his lips and pulled hard. He relaxed visibly. Feeling the need for respite, he smoked some more before passing it back to his friend. Veerbhadra offered it to Brahaspati and Nandi, who both declined. Brahaspati stared at Shiva who kept stealing glances at Sati. He smiled and shook his head.

  ‘What?’ asked Shiva who had notice
d Brahaspati’s gesture.

  ‘I understand your longing, my friend,’ whispered Brahaspati. ‘But what you are hoping for is quite difficult. Almost impossible.’

  ‘When it’s so valuable, it can’t be easy. Can it?’

  Brahaspati smiled and patted Shiva on his hand.

  Veerbhadra knew what his friend needed. Dance and music. It always improved his mood. ‘Don’t people sing and dance in this wretched country.’

  ‘Private Veerbhadra,’ said Nandi, his tone different with a subordinate, ‘firstly, this country is not wretched. It’s the greatest land in the world.’

  Veerbhadra playfully put his hands together in a mock apology.

  ‘Secondly,’ continued Nandi, ‘we dance only when an occasion demands it, like the Holi festival or a public performance.’

  ‘But the greatest joy of dancing is when you do it for no reason at all, Captain,’ said Veerbhadra.

  ‘I agree,’ said Shiva.

  Nandi immediately fell silent.

  Without any warning, Veerbhadra suddenly burst out into one of the folk songs of his region. Shiva smiled at his friend, for Veerbhadra was singing one of his favourites. Continuing to sing, Veerbhadra rose slowly and began dancing to the lilting tune, now accompanied by Shiva. The combination of marijuana and dance immediately changed his mood.

  Brahaspati stared at Shiva, first in shock and then with pleasure. He noticed a pattern in their dancing, a smooth six-step combination repeated rhythmically. Shiva reached out and pulled Brahaspati and Nandi to their feet. They joined in, tentative at first. But it was only a matter of time before a reluctant Brahaspati was dancing with abandon. The group moved together in a circle around the fire, the singing louder and livelier.

  Shiva suddenly darted out of the ring towards Sati. ‘Dance with me.’

  A flabbergasted Sati shook her head.

  ‘Oh come on! If you can dance while your Guruji and I watch, why not here?’

  ‘That was for knowledge!’ said Sati.

  ‘So? Is it wrong if we’re not dancing for knowledge?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘Fine. Have it your way,’ said Shiva with a frustrated gesture. ‘Ayurvati, come!’

  A starded Ayurvati didn’t know how to react. Before she could decide on a course of action, Shiva held her hand and pulled her into the circle. Veerbhadra lured Krittika in as well. The group danced boisterously and sang loudly, making a racket in an otherwise quiet night. Sati got up, clearly agitated, glared at Shiva’s back and ran into the rest-house. Shiva’s anger rose even higher as he noticed her absence when he turned towards the veranda.

  Damn!

  He got back to his dance, his heart in a strange mixture of pain and joy. He turned once again towards the veranda. There was nobody.

  Who’s behind that curtain?

  Shiva was dragged into the next move by Veerbhadra. It was a few moments later that Shiva was in a position to look again at the veranda. He could see Sati, outlined behind the curtain, staring at him. Only at him.

  Wow!

  A surprised and delighted Shiva swung back into his dance, moving in his prime form. He had to impress her!

  CHAPTER 13

  Blessings of the Impure

  Kotdwaar was in all its glory to receive the Neelkanth. Torches had been lit across the fort perimeter as if it was Diwali. Red and blue pennants, embellished with the Suryavanshi Sun, had been hung down the fort walls. In a rare breach of protocol, the governor had come outside the city to personally receive the Neelkanth. After the formal exhibition of the Neelkanth for the Kotdwaar elite at the local court, a public function had been organised the following day. Sixty-five thousand people, practically the entire population of Kotdwaar, had converged for the event. Considering the vast number of attendees, the event had been organised outside the city platform to ensure that every person could be accommodated.

  A speech by Shiva convinced the Kotdwaarans that Meluha’s days of trouble were soon to end. The remarkable effect Shiva seemed to have on the people was a revelation to him. Though he was careful with his words, telling them that he would do all he could to support the people of Meluha, the public made their own interpretations.

  ‘The cursed Chandravanshis will finally be destroyed,’ said one man.

  ‘We don’t have to worry about anything now. The Neelkanth will take care of everything,’ said a woman.

  Seated with Brahaspati and Sati on the speaker’s platform, Parvateshwar was deeply unhappy at the public’s reaction. Turning to the chief scientist, he said, ‘Our entire society is based on laws and we are not supposed to blindly follow anyone. We are expected to solve our problems ourselves and not hope for miracles from a solitary man. What has this man done to deserve such blind faith?’

  ‘Parvateshwar,’ said Brahaspati politely, for he greatly respected him. ‘I think Shiva is a good man. I think he cares enough to want to do something. And aren’t good intentions the first step towards any good deed?’

  Parvateshwar didn’t completely agree. Never a believer in the legend of the Neelkanth, the general thought that every man or woman had to earn his station in life with training and preparation, not just get it on a silver platter because of a blue throat. ‘Yes, that may be true. But intentions aren’t enough. They have to be backed by ability as well. Here we are, putting an untrained man on a pedestal and acting as though he is our saviour. For all we know, he might lead us to complete disaster. We are acting on faith. Not logic or laws or even experience.’

  ‘Sometimes one needs a little bit of faith when faced with a difficult situation. Rational answers don’t always work. We also need a miracle.’

  ‘You’re talking about miracles? A scientist?’

  ‘You can have scientific miracles too, Parvateshwar,’ smiled Brahaspati.

  Parvateshwar was distracted by the sight of Shiva stepping off the platform. As he came down there was a surge of people wanting to touch his hand. The soldiers, led by Nandi and Veerbhadra, were holding them back. There was one blind man amongst them who looked like he might be injured in the melee.

  ‘Nandi, let that man through,’ said Shiva.

  Nandi and Veerbhadra lowered the rope to let him in.

  Another man shouted, ‘I am his son. He needs me to guide him.’

  ‘Let him in as well,’ said Shiva.

  The son rushed in and held his father’s hand. The blind man, who seemed lost without his son’s hand, smiled warmly as he recognised the familiar touch. He was led close to Shiva and the son said, ‘Father, the Neelkanth is right in front of you. Can you sense his presence?’

  Copious tears flowed from the blind man’s eyes. Without thinking, he bent down to try and touch Shiva’s feet. His son cried out in shock as he pulled the man back sharply.

  ‘Father!’ scolded the son.

  Shiva was stunned by the harshness in the son’s tone compared to the loving manner in which he had spoken so far. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I am sorry, my Lord,’ apologised the son. ‘He didn’t mean to. He just lost control due to your presence.’

  ‘I am sorry, my Lord,’ said the blind man, his tears flowing stronger.

  ‘Sorry for what?’

  ‘He is a vikarma, my Lord,’ said his son, ‘ever since disease blinded him twenty years ago. He should not have tried to touch you.’

  Sati, who was now standing near Shiva, had heard the entire conversation. She felt sympathy for the blind man. She knew the torment of having even your touch considered impure. But what he had tried to do was illegal.

  ‘I am sorry, my Lord,’ continued the blind man. ‘But please don’t let your anger with me stop you from protecting our country. It is the greatest land that Parmatma created. Save it from the evil Chandravanshis. Save us, my Lord.’

  The blind man continued to cry folding his hands in a penitent namaste. Shiva was shaken by the dignity of the blind man.

  He still loves a country that treats him so unfairly. Wh
y? Even worse he doesn’t even appear to think he’s being treated unfairly.

  Tears welled up in Shiva’s eyes as he realised that he was looking at a man whom fate had been very unkind to.

  I will stop this nonsense.

  Shiva stepped forward and bent down. The flabbergasted son trembled in disbelief as he saw the Neelkanth touch the feet of his vikarma father. The blind man was at sea for a moment. When he did understand what the Neelkanth had done, his hand shot up to cover his mouth in shock.

  Shiva rose and stood in front of the blind man. ‘Bless me, sir, so that I find the strength to fight for a man as patriotic as you.’

  The blind man stood dumb-struck. His tears dried up in his bewilderment. He was about to collapse when Shiva took a quick step forward to hold him, lest he fall to the ground. The blind man found the strength to say, ‘Vijayibhav’. May you be victorious.

  The son caught hold of his father’s limp body as Shiva released him. The entire crowd was stunned into silence by what the Neelkanth had done. Forget the gravity of touching a vikarma, the Neelkanth had just asked to be blessed by one. Shiva turned to see Parvateshwar’s enraged face. Shiva had broken the law. Broken it brazenly and in public. Next to him stood Sati. Her face, her eyes, her entire demeanour expressionless.

  What the hell is she thinking?

  Brahaspati and Sati entered Shiva’s chambers as soon as he was alone. Shiva’s smile at seeing his two favourite people in the world disappeared on hearing Sati’s voice, ‘You must get a shudhikaran done.’

  He looked at her and answered simply, ‘No.’

  ‘No? What do you mean no?’

  ‘I mean No. Nahin. Nako,’ said Shiva, adding the words for ‘no’ in the Kashmiri and the Kotdwaar dialect, for good measure.

  ‘Shiva,’ said Brahaspati, keeping his composure. ‘This is no laughing matter. I agree with Sati. The governor too was worried about your safety and has arranged for a pandit. He waits outside as we speak. Get the ceremony done now.’