THE CURSE OF BRAHMA

by Jagmohan Bhanver

  THE CURSE OF BRAHMA

  Jagmohan Bhanver has handled national and international roles for top multinational banks, and is rated among the top leadership coaches in the country, mentoring industry leaders across the globe. He is considered one of the most powerful speakers in Asia and addresses half-a-million people every year. He has also been the recipient of the Rajiv Gandhi Excellence Award and the Global Achievers Award, among several other felicitations in education and public service.

  He has previously authored three non-fiction bestsellers. The Curse of Brahma is his first novel.

  He can be found at www.jagmohanbhanver.com and tweets at @JMS007.

  Published by

  Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd 2015

  7/16, Ansari Road, Daryaganj

  New Delhi 110002

  Sales Centres:

  Allahabad Bengaluru Chennai

  Hyderabad Jaipur Kathmandu

  Kolkata Mumbai

  Copyright © Jagmohan Bhanver 2015

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

  First impression 2015

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Typeset by Saanvi Graphics, Noida

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  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated, without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.

  Dedicated to Komal, the woman who saved me from myself…and from my own version of Tamastamah Prabha

  Contents

  Prologue

  Battle over a Princess

  Birth of a Demon Child

  The First Signs of Danger

  A Prayer for Kansa

  Shiva Educates Brahma

  The Seeds of Confusion Have Begun to Be Sown

  Madhuvan Has a Visitor

  A Walk in the Past

  Jarasandha Unveils Part of the Plan

  The Plot Begins to Unravel

  Signs of the Future

  Training of the Asura Assassins

  Svapnasrsti

  Tamastamah Prabha

  Turned over to the Dark Side

  Bhargava Shares His Secret

  Battle at Bhairava Van

  Kansa Gives a Gift to Devki

  The Carnage Begins

  He Is on His Way

  Krishna! Krishna! Krishna!

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  t was an extraordinarily large room, dimly lit with terracotta oil lamps dangling from the walls at various corners. It could accommodate more than a hundred people without appearing to be cluttered. A dozen couches of varying sizes and shapes were scattered tastefully across the cavernous room. Everything was aesthetically done up yet at the same time, gave the appearance of being ominous and murky. More than a thousand brightly coloured flowers of different species adorned the room, looking incongruous in the shadowy space, and heightened the sinister element of the place. It was as if the flora had been deliberately put there as a façade, to try and mitigate the otherwise malevolent persona of the place.

  The three creatures stood in the centre of the room awaiting their Master’s presence. The one on the left was a pisaca, a creature with a snake’s body and octopus tentacles for a head. A spike lay hidden under the tentacles for close encounters with enemies. The monster in the middle was a kalakanja, whose body resembled dried leaves, with scarcely any flesh or blood. He stood three gavutas high (one gavuta being equivalent to six feet). His eyeballs jutted out from his head like crabs, and his mouth, situated on top of his head, was as small as a needle’s eye. The third monster, standing on the extreme right, was a bonara. He was slight in size, barely taller than a midget, but looked the most treacherous. He had only one eye in the centre of his forehead and his entire body was covered in scales. In place of his feet were two long talons sharp enough to slice through an elephant. Three deadly and vile-looking fiends; but right now, all three were shivering with fear.

  They had been ordered there by the Dark Lord, the embodiment of evil in all the three worlds. There could only be two reasons for the summons. Either they were to be rewarded for pleasing their Master, or they would encounter a ruthless death for having offended him in some way. All of them knew they hadn’t done anything to please their Lord in the recent past. That signified only the other alternative. It meant Death, and it had them terrified. Not that any of them was afraid of death. They were not even alive, in the real sense of the word. They were creatures from the lowest levels of Pataal Lok, who had already died several times and then been resurrected by their Master to do his evil bidding. But death at the hands of their Master meant they would never be given life again, and would be doomed to remain buried in the lowest pit of hell for eternity. It terrified them.

  A door opened and a shrouded figure glided into the room. All the flowers in the room instantly shrivelled and turned to dust. The shrouded figure exuded death, and the smell of pestilence pervaded his being. He stopped a few feet away from his three followers. A hoarse voice from somewhere inside the cloaked figure snapped an order to an unseen guard at the door, who quickly closed the door and fled. A pair of blazing eyes from under the shroud glared piercingly at the three monsters. ‘You have failed me,’ the Dark Lord said softly. The tone was deceptive, and the three monsters knew that their Master was seething inwardly with some unknown fury. They waited for him to speak further. None of them wanted to invite his wrath if they could help it.

  ‘The mortal woman, Devki still lives,’ the Dark Lord hissed, looking at one of the creatures. ‘L - - Lord,’ the Kalakanja stuttered, his tall and skeletal frame shivering in terror.

  ‘Silence!’ The shrouded figure glared menacingly at the Kalakanja. ‘I should ideally send all three of you to your eternal graves in Tamastamah Prabha.’ Tamastamah Prabha was the seventh and the lowest level of existence within Pataal Lok, where serpents fed on the dead and those who had been sentenced to eternal death.

  He paused to look at the shaken trio of monsters and continued. ‘But you have served me well in the past, and for that I will make an exception this time.’

  The look of relief on their faces was palpable, as their Master continued. ‘Go and kill Devki before this month is over, and you will have earned your place forever, in my mind.’ He paused to look penetratingly at them. ‘But fail again and there will be no corner in the three worlds where you will be safe from my wrath.’

  Cowering in fear, the three monsters bowed.

  ‘Go now!’ commanded the Dark Lord in a raucous voice. The command was like a whiplash and his followers made a hasty retreat, each of them vowing to himself that he would be the one to kill Devki. Her death would be her salvation, and theirs too.

  The Dark Lord took off his hood when he was certain that his followers had gone. He rubbed one side of what should have been his face. There were only the tattered shreds of burnt skin that had still not healed in the past two hundred years of agony. Brahma, you shall pay for this, and so shall every deva in Swarglok, he vowed to himself. I will have my revenge when your treasured Mrityulok is mine. And when that is done, I shall transform every mortal there one by one into the Demon t
hat you made me. I will raise an army of Demons from Mrityulok, and together with my trusted soldiers in Pataal Lok, the Demons will take over your precious Swarglok.

  His laughter echoed through the cavernous room. But there was more anguish in it than there was joy.

  Battle over a Princess

  ing Devak lay prostrate on the ground. He had collapsed immediately on hearing of his wife’s death while trying to give birth to their second child. The royal vaid had intended to personally convey the news of the queen’s demise to the hapless king, but before he could do that in his patent sensitive manner, the news had travelled through the royal corridors in the form of Devak’s first born—the three-year-old Princess Devki. One look at the stricken face of his daughter had told him what a million words from the Royal Vaid might not have communicated. He knew the queen was dead. She was gone forever.

  Devak was not a warrior king with a heart of stone. His nature was more poetic and he was loved by his people not because of his conquests on the battlefield, but because of his impeccable administration and the care he showed for all his subjects. His three treasures were his wife, his daughter and his poetry; the first being the greatest. With his wife gone, he knew he would not be able to bring himself to do justice to the other two. This was the first thing that struck his desolate soul as he regained consciousness and found himself lying on his bed.

  I have to meet Ugrasena, was all he could think of as the hours passed.

  The messenger raced to Ugrasena’s court carrying the urgent message from his younger brother. After two days of relentless riding, and going without food and water to conserve time, the messenger reached Madhuvan and was ushered into Ugrasena’s private chambers.

  King Ugrasena took one look at the messenger and mouthed a command to one of his attendants, ‘Get the man some water, in the name of Vishnu!’

  As the attendant moved to do his regent’s bidding, Ugrasena nodded kindly to the man standing in front of him, half dead with exhaustion. ‘Messenger, take a seat and catch your breath. Then tell me what news my brother sends for me.’

  The messenger bowed his head in respect, but kept standing. ‘Your Majesty, King Devak sends you his greetings and requests that you read this letter in my presence and give me an answer that I can return with.’

  If Ugrasena was taken aback by the messenger’s request, he hid it well. He extended his right hand to take the scroll and broke open the royal seal himself. His face grew grim as he read the two words scrawled in his brother’s hand: Come immediately.

  He looked at the messenger. ‘I shall be leaving for Haripur at once,’ he said softly.

  Then as an afterthought, he added, ‘You should spend the night here and get some rest. Leave tomorrow.’ The messenger shook his head apologetically. ‘Forgive me Your Majesty, but my king awaits my return with your answer. I can have no rest till I have completed what he has commanded me to.’

  Ugrasena looked at the messenger with admiration. He knew there was a high possibility that the messenger might not survive the trip back in his current state. He had clearly not slept in the past two days and would not get any rest during the two days’ ride back to Devak’s kingdom. If he had some food and water, there might just be some chance of his making it back alive.

  ‘Messenger, you shall eat and have some water before you leave. That is a command!’

  The man bowed yet again in respect. ‘Your Majesty, I cannot eat, nor drink, nor rest till I have carried back your answer to my Master. With your permission, I would like to leave now.’

  Ugrasena looked long and hard at the messenger. The King of Madhuvan was accustomed to having his commands followed. But in this case, the messenger’s loyalty towards his brother warmed his heart. ‘What’s your name messenger?’ he asked gently.

  ‘Airawat, Your Majesty,’ the messenger replied respectfully, with just the mildest signs of impatience at the delay.

  Ugrasena took the messenger by his right shoulder and looking into his eyes said, ‘Go then Airawat, and do your master’s bidding. Devak is indeed fortunate to have men like you in his kingdom.’

  As the messenger left, Ugrasena asked for his first born and favourite son, Kansa, to be summoned to his chambers. He didn’t know what had happened at Devak’s court that had made his brother call him like this. Protocol had prevented him from asking the messenger. If Devak had wanted him to know the reason, he would have commanded the messenger to let him know. But he hadn’t. Whatever the reason for his brother’s urgent request, Ugrasena knew he would feel more comfortable if his valiant son, Kansa accompanied him on the journey.

  ‘My brother!’ Ugrasena embraced Devak as he entered his bed chamber. He was shocked to see his younger brother’s condition. If he had met Devak anywhere else, he may not have even recognized him. The king of Haripur had aged twenty years in less than five days. The once-large frame was now gaunt, and the eyes that used to twinkle with laughter had nothing but the shine of fresh tears in them. Ugrasena’s son Kansa had accompanied his father to his uncle’s palace and he stood respectfully in a corner while Devak poured his heart out to Ugrasena. Ugrasena listened as Devak told him that he no longer had any desire to live. That he would retreat to the forest where he would go into meditation and give up his mortal body, so he could be united with his wife in the afterworld.

  Ugrasena was shocked at Devak’s plans. ‘It is too premature for you to take Samadhi, Devak,’ he said in a shaken voice. ‘You have much to complete before you depart from this world,’ he continued. Devak shook his head. Now at the brink of death, he was more determined than he had ever been during his lifetime. ‘Think of Devki,’ Ugrasena pleaded, his tone ridden with agony over his brother’s decision.

  ‘I am doing this for Devki,’ snapped Devak in pain and frustration. ‘I can no longer be a father to her. I am already a dead man! Can’t you see it? How can a dead man give love to anyone? If she stays with me, she will neither have the love of a father, nor any other family close to her. With you, she will have your love and a large family of brothers and sisters. She will be happy.’

  Devak’s breathing was laboured. He looked at his brother and a tacit agreement was reached between them. Ugrasena nodded as Devak clasped his hands in relief. ‘I knew you would not fail me Ugrasena.’

  Ugrasena and Kansa stood waiting for Devki in Devak’s inner chambers. Devak sat on a diwan. He had asked his late wife’s chief personal attendant to fetch the child and pack whatever clothes and play things she may want to take with her to her Uncle Ugrasena’s palace. Her best friend, Mandki, daughter of one of the former attendants of Devki’s mother, would also accompany her as her companion and playmate. Mandki no longer had a family, and it would be easy for her to move with the princess. Devak turned to look around as he heard the familiar soft tread of his daughter’s footsteps, accompanied by two other, slightly heavier ones. Devki entered the room, followed closely by Mandki and an attendant. Devak extended his arm towards his daughter and beckoned to her. She approached him timidly and held his middle finger with her small hands, as if willing him to let her stay with him. Devak bent down to kiss his daughter and for the fraction of an instant, his resolve seemed to weaken as he stared into her doleful eyes. But then the thought of trying to wake up each day without his beloved wife by his side came unbidden to him, and strengthened his purpose yet again. He held his daughter’s gaze and said softly, ‘Go with Uncle Ugrasena; he is your father now. His sons will be your brothers henceforth, and his daughters, your sisters.’

  Devki looked at Devak and Ugrasena, from one to the other, knowing she had to go, but not wanting to. She was still clinging to the hope that this was all a prank and Devak would stoop down any moment to take her in his arms like he used to, before her mother died. But Devak did not bend down to lift her. Nor did he offer any further expression of love. His face was set in stone. It was as if he had already entered a state of samadhi and couldn’t wait to relinquish his eternal soul from his temporal body.<
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  Devki stood rooted at the same spot, unable to move or feel anything. Tears rolled down her eyes, and she unsuccessfully tried to blink them away. In the next instant, she was lifted gently off her feet and for one joyous moment she thought her father had had a change of heart. She looked into the eyes of the person holding her and instead of her father’s lined face, saw the youthful and loving smile of her cousin, Kansa. ‘Don’t worry little one,’ Kansa murmured gently into her ear. ‘You are my sister now, and no one,’ shall harm you while I live.’ Devki looked into the eyes of her cousin and felt a strange sense of security in his arms. She leaned her head against Kansa’s mighty chest and closed her eyes.

  Ugrasena looked fondly at his eldest son and knew he had done the right thing in getting Kansa with him. The boy was just fifteen but he was older beyond his years and he would take care of Devki as he had told her he would.

  Devak took one last look at his daughter and waved goodbye to all of them. He would now give up his royal clothes and change into the simple garments of an ascetic as he prepared to leave for the forest where he would take samadhi and depart from this world, knowing his daughter was loved and safe with his brother’s family.

  At the gates of the palace, Airawat waited patiently for his master. He would accompany Devak to the forest and stay with him till the king’s soul departed from his mortal body and ascended to Swarglok, to be united with his wife.

  Fourteen years passed.

  Devki sat relaxing on a low couch. Three of her personal attendants were moving around the luxuriously set room, engaged in various activities to please their princess. A fourth one, dressed differently and looking unlike any of the other attendants, was busy rubbing scented oil in Devki’s hair. Mandki was more of a friend and companion to the princess than an attendant. She had been with Devki ever since the latter had left her father’s palace and came to live with Ugrasena’s family fourteen years back. Devki had been three years old at that time and Mandki was eight. Devki’s father was Ugrasena’s brother and had been the ruler of Haripur while Ugrasena was the king of Madhuvan. After Devak took Samadhi and departed from the mortal world, Haripur and some of the neighbouring kingdoms that owed allegiance to Haripur also passed to Ugrasena. Ugrasena belonged to the Andhak dynasty of the Yedu clan. The Andhaks were one of the most respected families among the powerful Yedus at that time. The other prominent family among the Yedus was the Vrshni, with King Surasena as their head. Surasena ruled over Bateshwar. Both Ugrasena and Surasena were close friends and there was peace between the two powerful families.