The Onus of Karma

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The Onus of Karma Page 5

by Rudra Krishna


  Her audience was stunned. They had all heard of the Sri chakra, but with time, the story had passed into the realm of legend. To have the existence of such an important source of power confirmed, and that, too, so suddenly, was not only greatly shocking but also extremely exciting.

  Legend said that with the Sri chakra, Shiva had given man power over his future, to be used either for good or for evil. It was also ordained that the person who ultimately found the wheel would be Kalki, the tenth incarnation of Vishnu, a being of unlimited power.

  Venugopal Shastri, the eldest of the panchayat members, held a hand up and asked, ‘Where is it kept?’

  ‘It’s in the temple,’ Periamma replied. ‘It is not important where.’

  ‘What did you learn just now, Amma?’ This from the slim, middle-aged, village teacher.

  ‘I’m not sure how much the man I spoke to knew, but he did tell me that they had orders to capture some of the village elders so that they could locate the Sri chakra.’

  ‘What does Haider Ali wants with the chakra?’ Rama’s father, Appayya Dikshitar, asked.

  ‘What else would he want with it? Power! His prime minister is a Brahmin. No doubt he told Haider Ali about the wheel.’

  ‘But Periamma,’ Sripal, the representative of the weavers, spoke. ‘Haider Ali is Muslim; he would not believe the legend.’

  ‘He might be Muslim but he’s no fool!’ said Periamma sharply. ‘He is a king, he has seen enough of the world and I’m sure he would like to harness whatever power he can.’

  ‘What are we going to do, Amma?’ Dikshitar asked. ‘Are we going to move the chakra? Where do we keep it?’

  ‘I’m going to send you with the chakra. You will hide it at a location which you won’t reveal even to us. You will then go to Madras and tell the British of Haider Ali’s plans. The British will, hopefully, come to our aid.’

  The other four members of the circle nodded in agreement. As always, they trusted Periamma’s judgement absolutely.

  After the meeting, everyone left except Periamma and her son. Periamma chose Dhanapal and Ekambaram to accompany Dikshitar on his mission. Dhanapal because he was strong and trustworthy; Ekambaram was a very capable fighter and mute: he could never reveal anything if captured.

  ‘Dhanapal, you and Ekambaram have a hard night ahead of you.’

  Dhanapal’s normally surly face broke into a wry smile. ‘What do I need to do?’

  ‘I need you and Ekambaram to accompany my son to Tirumala. After that, you will go with him to Madras before escorting him back here. He will be your leader on this trip. If, for some reason, he decides to change the plan, you will assist him in whatever way he commands you to.’

  ‘Of course, Periamma, I always obey Chinnayya anyway.’

  ‘Very good, Dhanapal. Shiva goes with you tonight, so go bravely. You will, however, need to go the long way around, for Haider Ali’s army is blocking the northern and eastern sides of the village. I want you to make certain that nobody knows of your mission. We must make sure you’re not seen.’

  ‘We could use a decoy,’ Dhanapal suggested.

  ‘No.’ Periamma replied. ‘I don’t want to risk anyone else’s life. Besides, they won’t be looking for anyone yet. They are to march tomorrow, as soon as the prince reaches, and position themselves to the north and the west of Madras.’

  ‘We can swim out underwater,’ Dikshitar said, tentatively.

  ‘That might be a good idea. You will need cover though. Even if you do swim underwater, there is a chance that soldiers guarding the river will see you.’

  ‘They would never attack a child,’ Dikshitar ventured. ‘What if Rama rowed his boat across the river to go to his pathashala in Vandavashi, and we swam alongside, taking cover behind it?’

  ‘I don’t want to involve such a young child. It’s too dangerous.’

  ‘Amma, we don’t have time and we are out of options. Just think about it, which soldier would accost a child going to school?’

  Dhanapal said, ‘It is a good idea, Periamma, and probably the only one.’

  ‘Very well, Ekambaram,’ Periamma said reluctantly. ‘Go and bring my grandson here. I need to talk to him first.’

  Ekambaram went out and returned five minutes later with Rama.

  ‘Will all of you please leave? I want to speak to Rama alone,’ Periamma said.

  When they were alone, she said to her grandson, ‘Over two thousand years ago, Adi Shankara travelled the continent from end to end numerous times. On one of these expeditions he heard Shiva calling to him, commanding him go to Badrinath. When he went there, Shiva gave Shankara the Sri chakra. Do you know anything about the chakra?’

  ‘Yes,’ Rama replied. ‘Periyavar told me all about it.’

  ‘Did he tell you where it is?’

  ‘Yes. He said it was right here in the village, and when the time came, I would see it.’

  Periamma listened intently. She wondered how Periyavar had known. True, there had been rumours, which was how they had arrived at this situation in the first place, but there was obviously someone who had passed on Shankara’s secret. She decided to ask Rama all that he knew.

  ‘Yes. I shall show it to you. However, it must leave our village tonight.’

  ‘Because of Haider Ali?’

  ‘Yes. I am trying to understand how people found out about this. Did Periyavar tell you how he knew?’

  ‘No. He never said how he found out about the chakra, and I never asked.’

  Periamma nodded. ‘Rama, I want you to help your father. Ekambaram and Dhanapal leave the village tonight.’

  ‘Yes, Paati,’ said Rama excitedly. ‘What do I have to do?’

  ‘Just row your boat out of Damar towards Vandavashi. Tell anyone who stops you that you’re returning to your pathashala. The three of them will be swimming under your boat using reeds to breathe. Then return a day later; if anyone asks, say your mother took ill.’

  ‘Do I row all the way to Vandavashi?’

  ‘You will have to find a quiet place to hide for the night before returning after daybreak when the soldiers on guard change shift.’

  ‘Yes, Paati. Now let’s go see the Sri chakra,’ said Rama, getting to his feet.

  ‘Let’s go, Rama. But please, before we go, I want you to understand that there is danger involved, and I hate to ask you to do this. If for any reason you don’t want to go, I want you to be honest.’

  ‘I want to go Paati, you know I do,’ said Rama, a smile playing on his lips.

  ‘Fine,’ his grandmother replied.

  When they arrived at the temple, Periamma stood aside to allow her son to open the door and then strode inside, stopping first to bow before the lingam. Then she walked around it to the back of the inner sanctum and, from one of the hollows in the wall, picked up a small, hexagonal granite cylinder. It was covered with hundreds of little indentations and was obviously a key of some sort. She went around to the back of the sanctum sanctorum and inserted the cylinder into a hole in the wall. Immediately, an indentation appeared in the smooth wall below the keyhole. Periamma placed her thumb on this indentation and applied some force. The portion of the wall fell open on hidden hinges, revealing a deep alcove. Dikshitar reached in, took out a wooden wheel, and reverently placed it on the ground behind him, and closed the alcove. When he stepped back, it was impossible to make out there was ever a hole in the wall.

  Rama picked up the chakra. It was so light that it felt hollow. He absently mused. ‘But why was such a powerful weapon given to humans? After all, the potential it had for damage was quite clear.’

  ‘You see, this chakra belongs on earth, with man and it is his responsibility to make sure he doesn’t misuse it,’ Periamma replied. ‘Bala,’ she said, the only name she ever called her son by. ‘Carry the chakra in an oilskin bag that you can strap across your back. Then go to Tirumala. You can hide it there.

  ‘All right, Amma. Go back home and stay with Rangi. I’ll see you in a few days. Rama, let�
��s go.’

  ‘Farewell, Rama,’ Periamma said, with her hand on his head. ‘Be careful.’

  ‘I will, Paati,’ Rama promised. ‘I’ll be back by tomorrow evening.’

  Rama climbed into the boat and turning to the trio getting into the water, said, ‘Is there anything I need to remember?’

  ‘Just be calm, Ayya,’ Dhanapal replied. ‘I know you’ll do this beautifully.’

  Rama smiled confidently, although he did not feel the same degree of assurance. He was sure of his skills as a fighter but he had no illusions about his size. He only hoped he would be able to think clearly when the time came. He started rowing, moving as slowly as possible so as to not hit the three swimming underneath the boat.

  He had been rowing for less than half an hour when he heard a voice ring out, ‘Who goes there?’

  ‘I’m a student returning to my pathashala in Vandavashi,’ Rama called back to the darkness.

  ‘At this time of the night? Stop the boat. We will escort you to your school.’

  Rama could make out the silhouettes of three soldiers standing on the bank. He stopped the boat in the middle of the river, wary about going anywhere near them.

  ‘Please, Ayya,’ he pleaded, in a level voice. ‘I’m already late because of the fight in the village. My teacher will be extremely angry with me, and I had promised to return in time for my lessons tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Come here, Ayya,’ the soldier replied. ‘I have no choice but to check your boat.’

  Rama rowed slowly towards the men, hoping his father and the other men would stay still and out of sight for the few minutes that he would be on the bank.

  Suddenly one of the soldiers shouted, ‘Hey, halt there, I can see shadows under the surface.’

  Rama was just anchoring the boat when he heard the dreaded words, but he betrayed no emotion. He had barely stepped onto the bank when Ekambaram and Dhanapal hurled themselves out of the water and jumped on the soldiers. The element of surprise was with them. Dhanapal toppled one of the men before plunging his sword into the man’s neck, killing him instantly.

  Ekambaram, in the meanwhile, rushed over to protect Rama from the leader of the patrol, who clearly had no reservations about killing a mere boy. Seeing him come, the man braced for the attack. Rama promptly launched himself headfirst into the man’s midsection. They went down in a heap. Rama beat the soldier to his feet and picking up the sword, held him at bay. Ekambaram reached them and quickly stabbed the soldier in the neck, killing him. Rama looked around for his father and saw him crouching near the boat.

  The soldiers still standing moved in on Rama and Ekambaram, who raised his sword in readiness, backing up warily. He was inclined towards defence while Rama had always been taught that offence was the best strategy.

  Rama engaged one of the soldiers and taking advantage of the distraction, Ekambaram finished him off. As the man fell, Rama realized that the other soldier was speedily bearing down on them. He barely had time to shout out a warning to Ekambaram before the soldier stabbed Ekambaram in his gut. As he rushed to Ekambaram’s aid, Rama heard Dhanapal shout to him to stay away. He could only helplessly watch the dying Ekambaram use his final breaths to keep the soldier engaged. He noticed Dhanapal move towards their fallen companion and raised his sword to distract the soldier. Taking advantage of the soldier’s inattention, Dhanapal raised his sword and severed most of the soldier’s neck with a single blow.

  Rama just stood there, shaking, and covered in blood. His father swept him up in a hug and kept repeating, ‘Don’t look at that … don’t look at that!’ He turned to Dhanapal and whispered, ‘What of Ekambaram? Can we put him back in the boat and send him to the village? Can we save him?’

  ‘He’s already dead, Ayya.’

  ‘Shiva Shiva!’ said Dikshitar, in a daze. ‘Is this what you wanted?’

  ‘Appa, you must leave at once,’ Rama broke in urgently. ‘We don’t know when the next shift will get here. Please, hurry. I’ll return to the village with Ekambaram.’

  ‘Forget about Ekambaram, Ayya,’ said Dhanapal wearily. ‘It is better for us if they think that their soldiers were killed by this one man who also died in the process. I’ll rearrange the scene as best I can. Leave the boat for us and go back to the village. Ayya and I will leave in a while.’

  Dikshitar nodded, ‘Dhanapal is right, Rama. We will handle it from here. We should never have involved you. Go home now, and tell Amma and Paati that I shall be home in a couple of days.’

  Rama looked at his father for a few moments. He did not want to leave, but he had no choice.

  ‘Be careful, Appa,’ he said. He felt helplessly small, hopelessly inadequate, and at that moment, wanted nothing more than to return to the village.

  As he turned, he heard his father say, ‘We need to change the plan.’

  As he entered the forest, Rama saw something glittering on the ground near the riverbank. Retracing his steps to the spot, he bent down to pick up two glittering and transparent stones of perfect cut and symmetry, which, if he hadn’t known better, he would have guessed to be diamonds. He clutched them in his hand as he started running frantically back to his village.

  five

  Rama sat with Governor General Warren Hastings in Hastings’s office.

  ‘Well, Rama, you’ve done it again! You could be the next tehsildar.’

  Rama smiled perfunctorily. The news brought him no satisfaction. Karuna had succumbed to his injuries during the night, as had Arunachalam. The doctor said both men had died of heart failure, which Rama found hard to believe; he was determined to find out what was going on.

  ‘Do you have any idea why someone would pay the dacoit to loot the district?’

  The governor general looked up, surprised. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Those three were famous for being solitary hunters. Someone must have made it really worth their while to collaborate. Arunachalam’s escape, their elaborate boat—I’m certain someone else was involved.’

  ‘Maybe one of them, or all of them, had saved up enough to build it.’

  ‘But why Kumbakonam? All the commercial traffic is around Madras.’

  The governor general mused for a bit and then said, ‘Kumbakonam is a flourishing district, Rama. Besides, I don’t believe they were being backed by someone. Perhaps they just decided to join forces.’

  ‘But there is just no way, my lord, that these three would be able to come up with the idea of the boat all on their own!’

  Warren Hastings smiled. ‘You know, Rama, this is perhaps the only fault I can find with you: your excessively suspicious nature. You try to look beneath the surface of everything.’

  Rama did not answer. He could detect a sudden strain in the room, a disquiet. He did not understand it. To defuse the tension he said, ‘Perhaps you’re right. Maybe all I need is a good night’s rest.’

  The governor general walked to his bar and poured himself a drink. He came back to his seat and began with studied casualness. ‘Rama, I’ve been hearing stories about a wheel of power that gives the owner control over the forces of nature. Do you know anything about this?’

  Rama kept absolutely still for some time, collecting his thoughts. ‘My lord, it is a popular legend,’ he replied. ‘According to which Lord Shiva gave Adi Shankara the Sri chakra, the wheel of life, and Shankara in turn hid it somewhere.’

  ‘But is this is really just a legend? I mean, could there be some truth, however miniscule, to it?

  ‘If the legend were true, my lord, don’t you think someone would have found the wheel and used it to become incredibly powerful by now?’

  ‘Maybe no one has found it yet, or perhaps conscience or duty prevents the guardian from using it.’

  Rama laughed. ‘Sir, I don’t think your pastor will appreciate this endorsement of a Hindu myth.’

  ‘Son, being Christian doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in myths. I’ve been wondering if those three were somehow connected with that wheel.’
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  ‘I’m convinced those men could not have thought up such an elaborate plan. Which brings me to my original point: they were being financed by someone.’

  Hastings looked mildly annoyed. ‘Rama, we’ve already gone over this point.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Rama rose to his feet, realizing this particular topic would not progress with Hastings. ‘I will take your leave now, sir. The last few days have been long and tiring.’

  ‘I understand, Rama. Here,’ he said, giving him a large leather bag. ‘Your reward.’

  ‘Thank you, governor. I hope I’ll see you this evening.’

  ‘I’m afraid not. I must return to Madras this afternoon, and then leave for Calcutta. We should meet after I return—bring your wife and child too.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘Don’t thank me, Rama. I can play chess when you come over.’ Rama and Hastings both shared a passion for chess, and played together every time the governor general was in Madras. As they stepped out on to the sunny portico, Rama said, ‘That would be nice. I could use the distraction.’

  ‘Goodbye, Rama,’ said Hastings, as Rama mounted his horse. ‘Forget about this case. I think it is over.’

  ‘We’ll see about that,’ thought Rama to himself as he rode off.

  At eleven the next morning Rama walked into the town hospital and strode into Toefal’s office. The doctor looked up, a little surprised to see a policeman in his office.

  ‘Please finish whatever you’re doing.’

  Toefal finished writing in his notepad and looked up at Rama, confident that he had nothing to fear from this native. ‘Yes? What can I do for you?’

  Rama reached across the desk and hauled the doctor to his feet. ‘Who paid you to kill those men?’

  Toefal was speechless. He had never expected that Rama would lay hands on him. He spluttered, ‘How dare you? What is the meaning of this rubbish?

  ‘I asked you a question. Answer it truthfully and I won’t have to hurt you.’

  ‘You wouldn’t dare,’ the doctor said, defiantly.

 

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