THE CURSE OF BRAHMA

by Jagmohan Bhanver

  ‘Airawat…Airawat!’ the sound of his name being called brought him out of his reverie. Devki was smiling at him, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Both Mandki and she were already saddled and waiting for him.

  ‘I’m sorry, My Lady. I…I…’ he stammered in confusion as he too, hastily saddled up.

  ‘It’s okay, Airawat. All of us have the right to get lost in our thoughts sometimes,’ Devki grinned at him. Her keen insight told her Airawat was besotted with her childhood friend. I wonder if Mandki knows how he feels, she mused with a smile.

  Devki and Mandki set off, accompanied by Airawat. A squad of twenty soldiers followed them at a respectful distance. Two pairs of watchful eyes observed their departure with satisfaction. They knew that the pisaca awaited them at the top of the hill. The branches and leaves on the trees rustled in fury as the two monsters raced from tree to tree in the direction of the Shiva temple.

  ‘Where is Devki?’ Kansa asked as he poured himself some sherbet. He had come to bid farewell to Devki before leaving for Magadha. He intended to spend some time there with his brother-in-law, Jarasandha. The depression of the past few days had been weighing heavy on his heart and he felt it would help to get away from Madhuvan for a few days. His wives, Asti and Prapti, were also keen to meet their brother. They planned to be back in time for Devki’s wedding. Kansa wanted to avoid meeting Ugrasena before he left, but he couldn’t go away without saying goodbye to Devki.

  ‘Where is she?’ he asked one of the attendants hovering around him. ‘She has gone to the Shiva temple, prince.’

  ‘So early?’ Kansa was surprised. He knew Devki loved her sleep and it was impossible to rouse her in the wee hours of the morning.

  The attendant endeavoured to hide her smile. Everyone was aware of the princess’ dislike for rising early. ‘Princess Devki wanted to offer the first prayers of the day to Lord Shiva. She seemed somewhat rushed; in fact, she even forgot the fresh ash for the puja.’

  Kansa rolled his eyes. Mornings really aren’t your time of the day, are they sister? he thought to himself, both amused at Devki’s penchant for being lost in the early part of the day; and full of affection, knowing that Devki would have got up early to offer prayers for him. He knew, however, that she wouldn’t be able to do the puja without the fresh ash. It was a practice at this particular temple to put freshly created ash on the Jyotirlinga. The fresh ash served as a symbolic reminder that the only constant in life was death. Everything else could change any moment. ‘Just like my life,’ he thought to himself, the shadow of the past few days falling over his face.

  ‘Who accompanied her to the temple?’ he asked the attendant, making an attempt to shake off the depressing thoughts that plagued his mind.

  ‘Mandki and Commander Airawat went with her, prince. They left half-an-hour back.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Kansa reflected for a brief moment. ‘I shall carry the fresh ash for her myself.’ It will also give me a chance to meet her before I leave for Magadha, he thought.

  Carefully putting the urn of ash in the saddlebag, he mounted his mammoth steed and was off in a flash. He smiled slightly as he imagined Devki’s expression when she would realize she had forgotten the ash behind.

  ‘O Shiva! I forgot to carry the ash!’ Devki exclaimed morosely. Mandki and she had walked up, leaving their mounts at the base of the hill, where Airawat and the soldiers were waiting for them to return after the puja.

  ‘Now what?’ Mandki asked, her face mirroring her friend’s distress. She knew how badly Devki had wanted to finish the puja before the break of dawn.

  ‘I don’t know’ Devki sighed. ‘Do you think someone could ride fast enough to the palace and get the ash in time? I won’t need it till the end of the puja in any case,’ she finished hopefully.

  ‘Hmm, that’s not a bad idea. Should I ask Airawat to ride back? He is the fastest rider in the Kingdom,’ Mandki said with a shy smile.

  ‘Yeah, why not? I’m sure he would ride for you till the end of the world’ Devki joked.

  Mandki, the woman who always seemed to have a hold on her emotions, actually blushed at the joke. Ah! So she is aware of Airawat’s feelings for her, and she isn’t averse to liking him either it seems, Devki mused with the hint of a smile on her face.

  ‘Go now!’ she playfully pushed Mandki. ‘I’m starting the puja. You tell Airawat to come back with the ash, and then join me inside the temple compound.’

  The pisaca saw Mandki hurry down the hill. He couldn’t believe his luck. He had thought they would have to kill both the women. Now, it was just Devki. They could finish her off and leave with her severed head before the other woman returned. He looked in the direction of the peepul tree on the far side of the hill. His uncanny powers of sight allowed him to see what no human eye would have been able to make out—the form of the bonara hiding amidst the upper branches of the tree, his sharp talons quivering with the excitement of a kill. The kalakanja was already inside the temple and he had been instructed to execute Devki quickly and quietly. She was to be given no chance of escaping the precincts of the massively built temple. The inner structure was built in such a way that once inside, the walls set at particular angles acted as natural barriers to any sound escaping outside. No sound could go out; and no sound could come in. I hope the kalakanja doesn’t botch up this job, he thought. It was five minutes since Devki had stepped inside the temple compound. He should have finished the job by now, he thought with satisfaction.

  Devki bent down reverentially in front of the enormous Jyotirlinga. Inhabitants of the land of Bharat believed that there were twelve Jyotirlingas spread in different corners of the great realm. But citizens of Madhuvan knew that there was a thirteenth one; it was in Madhuvan itself. All Jyotirlingas looked like a normal Shivling, but were different; only a person who had attained a high level of spirituality could actually see the Jyotirlinga in its true form—as a pillar of flame arising out of the earth. The Jyotirlingas represented the infiniteness of existence—the fact that there was no end and no beginning to existence. The thirteen Jyotirlingas were believed to have been personally charged by Lord Shiva with his blessings and his formidable aura. The two Jyotirlingas closest in proximity to the one in Madhuvan were in the holy city of Kashi (Kashi Vishwanath Jyotirlinga) and in the snow-clad Himalayan town of Kedarnath (Kedarnath Jyotirlinga). They were about fifty-six yojanas and forty-four yojanas apart respectively from the one in Madhuvan. The Madhuvan Jyotirlinga was different from the other twelve, in terms of its sheer size. Standing at a height of one gavuta, it was almost four gavutas in circumference and was made of gleaming black stone. The sign of Aum was handpainted in red at the top of the Jyotirlinga, presumably by the pundit of the temple. A large trishul measuring five feet in length, with three sharp protrusions, lay behind the Jyotirlinga.

  Devki wasn’t interested in the history of the Jyotirlingas. All she knew was that she found a peculiar sense of peace whenever she was in the presence of the magnificent structure. And she had never come away unsatisfied after offering prayers at this temple. Shiva, give my brother peace of mind, she muttered to herself as she set about starting the puja.

  She put the puja thali on the brass tray kept in front of the Jyotirlinga, and began chanting the mantras she had been taught while she was a child.

  As she approached the end of the mantra, she lit a set of thirteen dhupa battis (incense sticks) at the base of the gigantic Jyotirlinga. It symbolized that while she was praying at the Madhuvan Jyotirlinga, she was seeking the blessings from each of the thirteen Jyotirlingas spread across the great land of Bharat.

  Having lighted the dhupa battis, Devki shut her eyes in prayer. Once in a state of deep meditation, she gradually became more aware of her surroundings, even with her eyes closed. She could hear the almost muted sputter of the burning dhupa battis. She was conscious of the night dew collected on the temple roof, falling as drops of water on the ground somewhere at the entrance of the temple door. The gentle breeze rustling through th
e inner corners of the temple sounded much louder as it caressed her face. Then her enhanced consciousness became aware of a malodourous smell, overpowering even the aromatic dhupa battis. The smell…the awful smell…Oh God, what is that stench? She thought to herself as she reluctantly opened her eyes.

  Her attention focused on the Jyotirlinga in front of her. She thought she saw something reflected there, in the gleaming surface of the black stone. Her keen observation told her something was wrong, terribly wrong, even before she heard the maniacal cry of the creature behind her. Without thinking, she swerved and threw herself towards her left in one rapid motion. In the brief instant that she took to regain her balance and stand up, she saw the brass tray holding her puja thali sliced into half, by a huge sword held in the hands of a creature that didn’t seem to belong to her world. If I hadn’t moved away, it would have been my head instead of that tray, she thought, desperately afraid. And then, as the wind blew from the other side of the room, she caught the stink of the creature standing in front of her. She involuntarily turned up her nose in disgust. It was the stench of death; a putrid smell of defecation mixed with the disgusting odour of something rotten.

  The Pisaca smelt the wind through the fine orifices in his tentacles. It seemed the princess’s companion was returning. He looked in the direction of the bonara, who too, appeared to have caught the smell of a human body. The pisaca made a hooting sound, too low for the human ear to catch, but to the bonara, it was as loud as if the pisaca had said something right in his ears. In a swift move, the bonara was off the tree and moved stealthily in the direction of the human smell. He hid behind a tree as he heard approaching footsteps. It was an old pundit, the keeper of the temple. The pundit was moving in the direction of the temple. The bonara looked towards the pisaca for instructions, who grimaced and made a slicing action with one of his tentacles. The bonara understood; he had to take out the pundit before he entered the temple, but it would have to be done swiftly so there was no chance of a scream or cry escaping the pundit’s mouth that could alert the soldiers at the base of the hill. He waited for the old man to approach the tree, and just as he did, the bonara came up behind him. Sensing an alien presence, the Pundit turned around, but he was too late. The only sound that escaped his lips was a final prayer to his God, ‘Aum-Num-Ha-Shi-Vai’, as the razor-sharp talon of the bonara sliced through his neck like a knife cutting through butter.

  ‘Who are you?’ Devki glared at the monster standing in front of her.

  The kalakanja licked his greyish-black tongue, his sunken eyes shining brighter at this moment than they had in a long time.

  ‘I asked…who are you?’ Devki repeated her question, examining the monster closely. His emaciated body was all bone; whatever little skin was there, resembled dried up leaves. The veins were stretched tight all over the body. He stood towering at a height of three gavutas (eighteen feet). There was no sign of any clothing barring some tattered rags that were tied around his waist.

  ‘I…am…your…death,’ the kalakanja growled; the smell of fetid liquid gurgling in his throat almost gagged Devki.

  A shiver ran down her spine. But she knew that if she gave in to the chilling fear that gripped her at the sight of this monster, she would surely die. She needed to buy time. Maybe some of the soldiers would come up the hill, looking for her if she didn’t return soon. And Mandki would also be coming up anytime now… Oh God! Mandki! She thought as she realized that her dearest friend would be here at any moment, and would encounter the same danger. She had to warn Mandki before she entered the temple compound. And she had to save herself from this creature. Devki knew the only way her cries would be heard by the soldiers downhill was if she were able to get out of the temple. I have to find a way of getting out of here, she resolved.

  The kalakanja saw the determined expression on her face and felt a shiver of excitement run through his decaying body. He hadn’t had a woman in a long time, and she looked so desirable. Maybe, he could have some fun with her before he decapitated her. His eyes were drawn to the ochre-coloured blouse covering her breasts, and he felt his excitement grow.

  Devki noticed the creature’s lewd interest in her and she felt a fresh tremour of fear. She knew whatever the monster had planned for her would not happen now, not before the vile creature had satisfied his lust. She forced herself to go beyond her fear and focus on the fighting tactics Kansa had taught her, when she had become old enough to take up weapons. She looked around for something with which to defend herself but she could see nothing except the trishul lying behind the Jyotirlinga. That was too heavy for her to lift. She hadn’t carried any weapon on her body either. Meanwhile, the kalakanja was circling her, taking his time, trying to trap her against the wall. But Devki knew what he did not; there was a small opening in the roof, on one side of the temple, about three gavutas from where she was standing right now. The wall adjoining the roof at that point had small footholds built into it. If she could somehow reach there, she could haul herself up the wall and climb through the enclosure to get outside. The towering kalakanja would not be able to crawl out through the narrow opening.

  She started moving in the direction of the wall. At the same time, she deliberately took a deep breath so that her breasts would get pressed harder against her blouse. The ploy worked. Blinded by his lust, the kalakanja failed to notice her slow but gradual progress towards the secret exit. Less than a minute had passed since the kalakanja had attacked her, but it seemed like hours. By now, he was dangerously close. Devki realized with a feeling of horror that the creature may be on top of her before she had a chance to reach the wall with the footholds to the roof. She decided to risk taking a subtle look in the direction of the escape zone. It was now just a little more than one gavuta away. At the same time, the kalakanja too saw the footholds in the wall. In a flash he knew what she was planning. He snarled in fury. Abandoning all pretence, Devki turned and ran towards the wall. The kalakanja threw down his sword and darted after her, his hands outstretched. Devki felt the tip of his nails cut through her ankle just as she climbed out of the small enclosure in the roof. And then she ran with all the power she could muster.

  She knew it wouldn’t take the kalakanja much time to realize that he couldn’t take the same route as she had. With his speed, he would still be out of the temple within the next few seconds. She jumped off the roof and hit the ground running, just as the temple door crashed open and the kalakanja hurled himself at her, snarling in fury.

  ‘My Lord!’ Airawat bowed, surprised at seeing Kansa.

  ‘How are you, Airawat?’ Kansa smiled at the cavalry commander.

  ‘I’m good, My Lord,’ Airawat replied, his respect for Kansa evident in his voice. ‘I was just going back to the palace. Princess Devki apparently needed something from there,’ he said, not wanting to embarrass the princess by telling Kansa she had forgotten to carry the ash for her prayers.

  Kansa looked at Airawat, and then at Mandki standing next to him. He laughed. ‘Would she by any chance be looking for this?’ he asked innocently, taking the urn filled with ash out of his saddlebag.

  Mandki grinned sheepishly. Airawat stood looking discomfited. Kansa gave him a friendly slap on his back. ‘It’s okay Airawat…women do forget these little things from time to time.’

  Airawat looked relieved, and returned a brief smile. Kansa looked at Mandki and asked her gently, ‘Would you mind if I were to give this personally to Devki?’

  ‘Not at all prince. I’m sure Devki will be delighted that you are here. Perhaps you could sit for the puja too…’ she half-suggested, not sure whether Kansa would like her telling him what to do.

  Kansa, however, did not seem to take offence. He smiled wanly, ‘I don’t think I will sit for the puja today Mandki, but I would definitely like to meet Devki and give her this,’ he said pointing to the urn of ash. Mandki nodded.

  ‘Let’s go then!’ he urged and started walking up the hill, too impatient to meet Devki to wait for Mandki.
Mandki rushed behind him, trying in vain to keep pace with his large strides.

  ‘My Lord!’ Kansa turned around as he heard Airawat’s startled exclamation. He looked inquiringly at the cavalry commander.

  ‘My Lord…your sword,’ Airawat pointed at the deadly weapon hanging at Kansa’s waist.

  Kansa chuckled. ‘Ah yes…I forgot weapons aren’t allowed on the holy hill. Hold this for me till I return, then,’ he said handing over the sword, and continuing to walk up the hill.

  Airawat struggled to hold the sword in his hand. This thing must weigh three matras (forty-five kilograms) at least, he mused, and wondered how Kansa wielded such a heavy blade.

  Kansa and Mandki had almost reached the top of the hill when they heard the terror-struck scream. It was a hair-raising shriek that rooted Mandki to the spot. Kansa too felt his heart skip a beat.

  ‘That’s Devki’s voice,’ he choked. The warrior in him knew there was danger out there. He turned around and looked at Mandki. She was still standing frozen, completely dazed. Kansa shook her savagely, till she recovered from her shock.