THE CURSE OF BRAHMA

by Jagmohan Bhanver

  To his surprise and the bewilderment of the entire Madhuvan force, Ghora shook his head. Pointing in the direction of Vasudev’s sword he said, ‘Pick it up. We have just about warmed up.’ There was a trace of amusement in his voice that both confused and irritated Vasudev. He had never fought a warrior who could move so fast and so unpredictably.

  Vasudev pulled out his sword where it was wedged deep inside the ground. He acknowledged his adversary with a slight nod and the fight began again. This time it was Ghora who went on the offensive. In a series of lighting moves, he lunged at Vasudev from different sides, and his thrusts appeared to be everywhere at the same time. It took all of Vasudev’s skill to parry the unrelenting attack. Most fighters would make the mistake of coming too close to their opponents while attacking, and it would give a superior warrior the opportunity to seek an opening and move in for the kill. But Ghora was ensuring that with every thrust he made, his sword arrived at the fight before his elbow or his face did. This did not allow Vasudev any chance of striking back. Neither did Ghora stumble or falter while attacking, making it impossible for Vasudev to strike. His complete attention was concentrated in keeping Ghora’s attacks at bay and in trying to buy time, hoping the young man would tire soon. But Ghora appeared to be as fresh when they had started off. To his surprise, Vasudev found his own breathing grow ragged with the strain of having to defend himself continuously. And then, as suddenly as he had started, Ghora stopped his offensive.

  The two warriors paused to stare at each other. Vasudev knew the other man was playing with him, wanting to reduce him to an exhausted wreck before he made an end of him. He tried to feel his sword but his arms were too tired to have any sensation left in them anymore. They hung limp at his sides, drained of energy and strength. Incredulously, the man facing him hadn’t even broken into a sweat. He just continued to stare at Vasudev, as if he wanted to give him time to regain his energy.

  Vasudev thought of his impending marriage with Devki, and how she would react when she would hear about his death. It will break her heart, he thought. The bile rose into his throat and he spat out the disgusting fluid. I can’t die, not like this…not without seeing Devki, he resolved. The thought seemed to give him superhuman strength and he felt the apathy fade from his body, as his limbs regained their vitality.

  Ghora noticed the change come over his opponent. He prepared himself for what he knew was going to be the last round of the lethal fight. Vasudev didn’t wait for Ghora to go on the offensive this time. He realized he had made a terrible mistake in allowing his opponent’s unnatural skill to get him rooted to the spot. It was the worst thing a swordsman could do. He started moving lightly on the balls of his feet, much as a boxer would. It was a technique he had learnt from his physical training instructor when the latter had taught him the essentials of hand-to-hand fighting. The dancing movement allowed blood to circulate freely through his lower limbs and also served to confuse an opponent about any intended move. He made a few light lunges towards his adversary, making sure he used his body weight rather than his arms to power the thrusts. The change in technique helped Vasudev control his breathing better and he found the tiredness had all but deserted him.

  Finally, Vasudev decided to use a technique he had learnt from one of his tribal friends during his younger days. It was an unconventional move and even classic fighters were unaccustomed to it. Vasudev remembered his friend had bested even their instructor with this style as the trainer had been caught unawares due to the unusual technique.

  While a fighter of Ghora’s calibre would possibly adapt to it in no time, there was bound to be a brief period of uncertainty. Vasudev intended to use that moment of hesitation to his advantage. He began to circle Ghora, slow at first and then rapidly. As the pace increased, he jumped in the air in an unpredictable move and attacked Ghora sideways from top. Ghora was just in time to defend the blow to his head. By the time he had recovered, Vasudev had begun circling him again, even faster, dancing all the while on the balls of his feet. And again, he jumped in the air and attacked. This time the assault was aimed at Ghora’s neck instead of the head. Yet again, Ghora deflected the blow, but this time Vasudev’s sword almost nicked the skin off the side of his throat. Ghora felt a slight trickle of blood begin to flow, but it was inconsequential. His attention was focused completely on Vasudev who was circling him faster than ever now. This time Ghora was prepared for the blow, and as soon as Vasudev made the move to leap up, Ghora brought up his sword to deflect the intended blow. Only this time around, Vasudev did not leap up in the air. He lunged to the side, and before Ghora realized that he had become the victim of a feint, Vasudev had dug the sword sideways into his thigh, severing Ghora’s femoral artery.

  Ghora stared in disbelief at the man he had been fighting for the past one hora. He had fallen for the most common ruse in swordsmanship—a feint. But the style had been so different that he had not been prepared for it. The blood gushing out of his thigh sapped his energy and his legs revolted against the weight of his body. He staggered to his knees, the sword falling to the ground. He looked up to stare at the man who had finally vanquished him. Vasudev stared into his eyes. He saw no fear there; possibly some regret, but he couldn’t be certain.

  ‘Why did you not kill me when you had the chance?’ he asked abruptly. Ghora smiled. ‘Is this necessary?’ he asked, coughing blood.

  ‘It is necessary to me,’ Vasudev said, knowing the man would die soon if the blood loss was not stemmed immediately.

  Ghora shook his head resignedly. ‘My men were all dead. There was no point in killing you. It wouldn’t have got them back!’

  Vasudev’s voice shook in frustrated anger. ‘Then why, dammit? Why did you have to fight me?’

  ‘Because I knew you wouldn’t be at peace till you had killed the man who was responsible for the deaths of your people,’ Ghora rasped, his praana leaving him rapidly. ‘And because I would have rather died fighting a warrior then be killed by those men,’ he said pointing towards the Madhuvan force, moving towards them.

  Vasudev shook his head, the sudden pain in his head beginning to cloud his thoughts. War is so useless; it makes beasts out of men, he reflected.

  ‘I wish you were fighting on our side, my friend,’ he mumbled, the ache in his voice evident.

  ‘I wish so too. But I am not!’

  ‘I am willing to give you a chance to save your life if you agree to share your knowledge of the other assassin units with us,’ Vasudev said quietly. Ghora shook his head, ‘I am afraid I can’t do that,’ Vasudev sighed, ‘Then you leave me with no choice.’

  ‘I ask you for one favour,’ Ghora said softly. ‘When I left home, I told someone that I would not return till I had either completed my mission, or had my head cut off trying.’

  Vasudev nodded in understanding. Ghora smiled at him acknowledging the favour his enemy was doing him. He bent his head, his last thoughts dedicated to the man back home who had given him the love of a father during what were destined to be the last days of his life. Some part of his mind was steeped in regret at what could have been and was not. But the larger part of his consciousness was thankful that he was leaving this land forever, to begin a new journey elsewhere…

  Ghora’s soul had already commenced its passage into the after world when Vasudev’s sword granted him the one favour he had asked of him.

  Vasudev and the surviving members of the task force started their victorious journey back to Madhuvan. Three hundred and fifty men remained of the five hundred they had started out with. But they had destroyed more than a thousand asura assassins holed up in Hastinapur. Vasudev had dispatched a man to Dhritarashtra’s court, informing him of the battle at Bhairava Van, and the annihilation of the asuras hiding there. In his letter, he had also made a plea to Dhritarashtra to set up their own task force that could prevent fresh infusion of assassins into their land and could also be used to help neighbouring countries. He had no doubt that the regent of Hastinapur would do what
he had requested.

  Airawat and Tantra had brought Vasudev up to date on what had happened after they had gone their separate ways. While Airawat’s group had razed down one asura camp, Tantra and his battalion had not encountered any encampment. The two battalions had met up on the way, and had taken the only route they thought might have been taken by Vasudev and his men. Fortunately, they had been right and they had reached just in time.

  While Tantra dropped back to ride with his men, Airawat rode besides Vasudev at the head of the combined task force. He had not failed to notice the despondent mood the prince was in since they left the Bhairava Van. Vasudev had not once spoken about his fight with the fearsome warrior; nor had he shown any joy in their victory. While they had lost a hundred and fifty of their men, Airawat had thought Vasudev might show at least some satisfaction at what they had achieved. But there was none. Vasudev rode on; his face cast in stone.

  They had left Hastinapur far behind and were now halfway back to Madhuvan when they saw a cloud of dust in the distance. Airawat moved to unsheathe his sword, but relaxed as he saw it was a messenger approaching. The man was attired in the traditional clothes of Bateshwar. Vasudev recognized him immediately.

  ‘What news from Bateshwar, Ojus?’ he asked the messenger. Ojus saluted smartly, ‘My Lord, Commander-in-Chief Sini Yadav sends his greetings.’ The messenger handed a scroll to Vasudev.

  Vasudev quickly broke the seal and extracted a letter written in Sini Yadav’s typical laconic style. He read the message with mixed feelings and put the letter back in the scroll.

  ‘Thank you, Ojus. Tell Sini that I am grateful for the news, and let him know I am thrilled at what his team and he have achieved. Tell him I will send him a more detailed letter once I reach Madhuvan.’

  Ojus nodded his understanding. And then he smiled. ‘My Lord, all of us at Bateshwar wanted to wish you and Princess Devki the best for your impending marriage. May the gods bless this union.’

  Vasudev allowed himself the first smile that day. ‘Thank you Ojus. Devki and I are grateful for the sentiments of the people of Bateshwar. And both the princess and I are looking forward to coming back after the marriage is solemnized.’

  Ojus grinned. Vasudev’s marriage to Devki was the most looked forward to event at Bateshwar these days. He gave a smart salute to both Vasudev and Airawat and galloped away.

  Airawat was glad to see Vasudev smiling finally. ‘All well at Bateshwar, My Lord?’

  Vasudev nodded. ‘Sini Yadav and his team discovered a hideout of about six hundred assassins, a little outside Bateshwar. They have wiped them out.’

  Airawat looked perspicaciously at the prince. ‘There seems to be more than that,’ he said hesitantly.

  ‘Yes, there is,’ Vasudev replied grimly, his mood again becoming sullen and withdrawn. ‘Sini also sends news that signs of chaos and lawlessness have started increasing all over the land. Several kingdoms have reported unprecedented incidents of murder, vandalism and in-fighting within their cities.’

  ‘So it has started!’ Airawat exclaimed softly.

  ‘Yes, it has. And the more assassin units we hunt down and destroy, the more they are going to get provoked,’ Vasudev said grimly.

  They rode quietly for a while, before Vasudev exploded. ‘I wish Kansa had returned. It would have been so much easier.’

  Airawat did not respond. He had always been a vocal admirer of Kansa; which is why he couldn’t understand why the mention of the prince made him so uncomfortable at this moment.

  Kansa Gives a Gift to Devki

  grasena and Surasena waited for the royal pandit (court priest) to announce the exact date for the vivah sanskar (marriage ceremony). The pandit seemed to be taking his own time in calculating an auspicious time for the event. He knew this was perhaps the only time when two of the most influential kings in Mrityulok waited for him to speak. Surasena winked at Ugrasena, exhorting him to maintain his calm at the delay. He hadn’t failed to notice that his friend was unnaturally edgy. While the king of Madhuvan seemed happy about the wedding, the rift between Kansa and him had taken away the joie de vivre out of his existence. Surasena understood this but he carefully refrained from initiating any discussion about the prince.

  The pandit looked up at last and smiled. ‘The moon stands in Magha at the moment,’ he said. ‘In three days, when the moon passes through Uttaraphalguni, the vivah sanskar will take place.’

  Surasena sighed in relief. The guests had already been informed about the tentative day for the wedding, but it was necessary to have the precise date for the actual ceremony. He was glad the final date fixed by the pandit was not too off the mark. The guests wouldn’t have to wait after their arrival.

  Ugrasena, too, seemed satisfied with the announcement. He nodded to the pandit. ‘Thank you, Ritvick. Prepare for the ceremony. The guests will begin to arrive in two days’ time.’

  As the pandit left, Surasena looked at Ugrasena. He didn’t want to talk to him about Kansa but he was still concerned about the immense change in his friend’s disposition since his last visit to Madhuvan. ‘You seem troubled, old friend. Is something bothering you?’ he asked gently.

  Ugrasena was silent for a while. Then his voice quavering, he whispered, ‘I have lost my son, Sura. I have lost Kansa forever.’

  Surasena shook his head, his friend’s obvious grief considerably diluting his own exuberance. ‘We don’t easily lose the people we love Ugrasena. If he truly cares for you—and I think he does—he will return to you.’

  Ugrasena looked at his oldest friend, a faint glimmer of hope reflected in his eyes. ‘Are you sure that he will come back to me, to Madhuvan?’

  Surasena nodded vigorously. ‘He will. And when he does, welcome him with open arms. Don’t grudge him whatever has happened between the two of you in the past.’

  Ugrasena smiled for the first time in days. ‘May Vishnu let this be true!’ he said with fresh enthusiasm. ‘Come then, we have work to do.’

  The two old warriors slapped each other’s backs, and laughed the way they used to when they were younger and didn’t have the weight of kingly responsibilities upon their mortal shoulders.

  Madhuvan resembled a celestial kingdom on this particular day. The entire city was covered with lamps of various sizes and shapes. The citizens had turned out in their finest attire, and the bright colours of their clothes vied with the dazzling hues of the lamps. Since the actual wedding would be privately held within the precincts of the palace, the regular citizens would not get an opportunity to witness the ceremony. Not wanting them to feel left out, Ugrasena had provided for their entertainment too. Circus owners from all over the land had been invited to Madhuvan and they had pitched up their tents just outside the city so that the people of Madhuvan could have their share of revelry. Infants and even adolescents shrieked in glee as they witnessed fire-eaters and lion trainers in action. Surasena had declared that the Bateshwar treasury would bear the expense on food and sweets that were to be circulated as gifts to every citizen of Madhuvan. Ugrasena had already sent an endowment of fifty gold coins to every household in the city. The coins carried images of Devki and Vasudev on either side and were intended as souvenirs that the citizens could keep with them as a memoir of the royal wedding.

  The festive atmosphere reached gargantuan proportions with the arrival of Kansa on the eve of the wedding day. Crowds screamed their welcome to the prince of Madhuvan and the more exuberant amongst the children actually ran alongside his horse, cheering for him. Caught up in the excitement of the moment, none of them noticed the subtle changes in Kansa.

  Kansa went directly to the palace and bowed to the king, seeking his blessings in full view of the entire court. The courtiers cheered the arrival of the prince. Ugrasena made a gallant effort to keep his emotions in check as he blessed his son. He was so elated at Kansa’s sudden arrival that he too failed to notice the transformation in the prince. Kansa took his place on the right-hand side of Ugrasena and he nodded tersely
at Vasudev as he caught his old friend staring at him from the other side of the large hall.

  Vasudev sat next to Surasena, in a place reserved for the most honoured guests. Seated amongst them were the various kings and royalty from the most powerful countries in Mrityulok. Dhritarashtra from Hastinapur was accompanied by the Kuru grandsire, Bheeshma. Drupada was present from the powerful country of Panchala. Sakuni represented the land of Gandhar. The other notable royals present had come from Salva, Kekaya, Chedi, Avanti, Kosala, Kalinga, Madra, Sindhu and Virata, among others.

  Vasudev stared at Kansa. He was the only one there who noticed the change in his demeanour. Kansa had not returned his smile. Maybe he is tired from the journey, he mused. Nevertheless Vasudev was delighted that Kansa had returned. He knew Devki would be thrilled and it was nice to have his old friend back. I have got to share with him all that has happened in the last few weeks, he thought.

  Ugrasena welcomed all the people who had arrived for the wedding and he suggested they retire to the royal quarters readied for them. A group of attendants had been appointed for each guest and now approached to escort them to their respective residences within the palace.

  The formal welcome being completed, Ugrasena excused himself and left the court, motioning to Kansa to accompany him. The guests started dispersing as the court broke up. Handshakes were exchanged and there was a lot of back-slapping as several old friends mingled with each other. Everyone present wanted to congratulate Vasudev on his imminent wedding and some of the older warriors even made coarse jokes about Vasudev’s approaching wedding night. Vasudev took all the jokes aimed at him good-naturedly. He knew the men meant well. After he had met all the guests present, he left Surasena to handle them and quietly left the court. He was eager to meet Kansa.

  ‘But why do you want to leave so soon?’ Ugrasena said agitatedly. ‘You have just arrived.’