by J. F. Penn
Morgan leaned in and hugged the young woman. "Shalom berakhah ve-tovah," she whispered, a blessing of peace and good things to come.
They drove back to the airport and headed north again.
Allahabad. 7.23pm
Mahesh stood waiting next to a four-wheel drive at the airport with several more vehicles parked behind, surrounded by burly men in black sunglasses.
"Our own entourage," Jake said under his breath as they walked down the tarmac from the plane. "Not something we usually get on ARKANE missions."
"Let's just hope Asha won't see us all coming," Morgan replied, smiling at Mahesh as he approached.
He shook their hands, his face haggard with worry.
"Did you find anything in Kochi?" he asked.
"Not what we had hoped for, but it might be important." Morgan pulled out the drawing. Mahesh took it and his eyes narrowed with interest. "There's an inscription on the back."
Mahesh turned it over and his lips moved silently as he formed the words.
"You read Sanskrit?" Morgan asked.
"It's been a long time, but yes, a little, even though I don't understand the meaning in this case. The image is disturbing, though. May I keep hold of it?"
"Of course."
"How can a simple mantra be so powerful?" Jake asked, as they got into the lead vehicle.
"The Vedas teach that sound can embody power," Mahesh replied. "Mantras may have no specific meaning, but the sound itself is the reason for speaking them. Take Om, for example. It is the beginning and the end, engraved over entrances to temples and used in private prayer. The sound resonates through the chest and by repeating it you can reach a higher consciousness."
The road became densely crowded as they neared the camp, a mega city created on the banks of the Ganges, a temporary home for pilgrims who stayed only a few days as well as those who camped for the duration of the Kumbh Mela.
Eventually, the crowds became so dense that they halted the car, parking the large vehicles to the side of a couple of smaller, more rugged Jeeps.
"It gets even crazier the further we go in," Mahesh said. "So we'll leave the bigger cars here on the perimeter with a few guards."
They got into the smaller cars and drove on again. As the crowd thickened, Mahesh ordered one of his men to walk in front with a bullhorn, clearing people out of the way but their driving speed was soon at a crawl again.
It was busy and noisy and smelled of sweating bodies and the smoke of cooking fires. The air seemed to vibrate with the excitement of the mass congregation but Morgan also felt a calm amongst the people, both a respect for life and a distance from it. The collective energy was focused only on God, on community and respect for the holy men who gathered here.
A woman in an orange sari stopped in the middle of the road before them and clutched a cell phone to her ear. She bellowed into it above the noise of the crowd, clearly trying to get directions to her part of the camp. A little boy hid in the folds of her skirt. Morgan smiled at him and he covered his face at the stranger's interest.
"The infrastructure is very well run these days," Mahesh said. "They've used urban planning principles to design camp areas, toilets, drinking water and even extra cell phone towers for coverage." He gestured at the woman on her phone. "If people can find each other easily, there is less need for help from the volunteers or police."
"Police?" Jake looked around. "We haven't seen any so far."
"Oh, they're here," Mahesh said. "But even thousands must be thinly spread in a camp this size. I've sent word to their captain and he's keeping an eye out for Asha. All the different groups of sadhus camp in separate areas so they'll check out that angle. Each group has a mahant, a leader, and the police will check with them first."
They passed a group of women who stood together, their hands cupped in prayer. Behind them, others jumped to the beat of a Bollywood song. "There are even female sadhus these days," Mahesh said. "Quite a few are famous now, and they have their own camps too."
"We met Asha's guru briefly," Morgan said, remembering the ash-covered man in the Kali temple.
Mahesh's face darkened and he frowned. "He's an Aghori." He spat the words. "They're ascetics dedicated to Shiva but many Hindus consider them unorthodox. They live in charnel grounds and smear ash from the dead on their skin. They drink from skulls and they use blood in their worship."
"Why would Asha choose such a path?" Morgan asked. "Surely she had everything as the only daughter of Vishal Kapoor. Why choose to follow a man like that?"
Mahesh shook his head. "I think your own scriptures explain this." His voice grew wistful. "The book of Ecclesiastes is an exploration by a young man who has everything but still finds that life is meaningless. He tries all kinds of pleasures, denying himself nothing but ultimately discovers that everything was just chasing after the wind."
"The Buddha too was a prince who gave up everything for a simpler life," Morgan said. "He renounced his riches to witness human suffering and try to transcend it."
Mahesh nodded. "Indeed, and I too have found emptiness at the heart of the rich life of Mumbai's elite. But my father taught me how to help others through our business and use wealth for good. I fear Asha has lost herself to this Aghori because she feels everything but his pure way is pointless." He looked out over the camp, the burning fires below bringing the delicious smells of spice with them. "I have failed my sister but I can still help her – if we can find her in time."
He leaned over suddenly and pressed down the horn in frustration. The blast of noise didn't even impact the crowd in front of them. Mahesh swore in Hindi, thumping his fist down onto the steering wheel.
"I'd like to walk anyway," Morgan said. "I need to stretch my legs after all that flying and it might be quicker that way."
Mahesh nodded and looked at his watch.
"I have calls to make so you should walk ahead. I have a tent booked in the front ranks nearer the water, in the section where there have been sightings of Asha and her guru. It's under the flag of a ship, the Kapoor crest. Just walk straight down the main causeway and you'll find it. If you hit the water, you've gone too far. Just call if you have any problems."
They got out the car and then Morgan leaned back in. "We'll find her in time." She met Mahesh's eyes. "We have to."
Chapter 26
Morgan walked with Jake along a causeway that crossed the wide river and joined the stream of pilgrims heading into the main camp area. She looked out over the shallow waters near the edge of the holy Ganges. The river was dotted with people bathing, the brown bodies and dark hair of men as they dipped under, while women in multi-colored saris managed to bathe while still preserving their modesty.
Children splashed each other and screamed with excitement. Naked sadhus painted with ash wallowed in the shallows, tinging the water white. An array of humanity all seeking to wash away sin and be closer to God, and some perhaps, just enjoying the refreshment.
Morgan watched as a man held his hands up in prayer, his eyes fixed on heaven, before he ducked under the water. As he came back up, water streaming off his face, he beamed with a look of pure rapture. She wondered whether he had traveled far and how long he had waited for that moment. It reminded her of baptism, emerging from the water to a new life. She had watched a group of Christians perform the ritual in the River Jordan once, following in the footsteps of Jesus. Water was sacred to all life so perhaps it was no surprise that it was so precious here as well.
"I'm kind of jealous," Jake said as they walked on. "I'd like to believe that washing myself in a holy river would remove all my sin." He sighed. "But the stain is too deep now."
"Then there's a Hindu story you might appreciate," Morgan said. "In the Bhagavad Gita, the great warrior Arjuna finds himself questioning what he's doing in the midst of a battle. He wants to stop and give it up because he can't see a point to the violence. Lord Krishna is with him and tells Arjuna to fight, because it is his duty and his role in life."
Morgan stopped and put her hand on Jake's arm. The sounds of the Mela fell away and in the midst of millions, they were alone. "I know some of what you've done while working for ARKANE," she whispered. "I've killed too, you know that. But we do it to protect the greater good, and if you didn't question what you did sometimes, you'd be a monster."
Jake looked down at her, his dark eyes intense, and for a moment she thought he would bend and kiss her.
And she wanted him to.
A horn blared and they both jumped. Jake pulled Morgan's arm and steered her out of the way as a Jeep piled high with pilgrims rattled past.
"We should head for Mahesh's tent before it gets dark," he said, his voice husky.
Morgan let the moment pass.
They walked down one of the avenues of the vast tent city as dusk fell, just another couple in a sea of people. The tents ranged from elaborate marquees around communal squares to the basic tarpaulin shelters of the poor. Huge banners with the faces of the gods looked down upon them, including Shiva with his trident and cobra, his hand outstretched in blessing. Flags fluttered on high rods above them, marking out the various territories within the camp and used to navigate on the paper maps clutched by new pilgrims.
The stink of cow dung used as fuel for the cook-fires hung in the air along with the smell of human bodies clustered together. There was some kind of irony that they all came to bathe, Morgan thought. Her own cotton shirt clung to her back, sweat dripping down, but she was glad of the full sleeves, long trousers and headscarf she wore. Even with her dark hair, she still stood out amongst the Indian women, although with Jake by her side, no one would bother her.
As they reached the area closest to the river, the campsites shifted from families to sadhus, mainly men, all in different groups. Morgan continued to scan the area as they walked in the hope of catching a glimpse of Asha or her Aghori, but every time she thought she saw one of them, it proved to be a mirage.
A sadhu sat outside one tent, cross-legged in the lotus position, his entire naked body and long bushy beard covered in grey ash. His dreadlocks were tied into a topknot with a marigold wreath wrapped around them and more marigolds draped around his neck and wrapped around his limbs. When so many were naked, the physical body lost its meaning and he sat so still that Morgan wondered if he was asleep.
As they passed, he opened his eyes, dark pools against the ash on his skin. She put her hands together in the prayer position and bent towards him.
"Namaste."
The sadhu nodded back. She found these men alien after coming from Judaism where physical modesty was valued and the holy men spent hours at their books.
Another tent a little further down was alive with discussion, groups of sadhus gesticulating as they conversed of sacred things. The tent was smoky from their chillum pipes, the sweet scent of marijuana hanging in the air. Morgan smiled. Perhaps they weren't so different to the Rabbis who spent years arguing over the finer points of the Torah.
The sky darkened as night fell, but it only became brighter as they reached the camp area closer to the river. Shrines were lit up with lanterns and vehicles passed by, alive with festive electric lights and stereos blaring sacred chants. The yellow glow of the streetlamps all served to create an eerie form of night.
"There." Jake pointed up ahead to where a flag flapped in the breeze. "The Kapoor ship."
They walked to it and pushed open the flap of an ivory-colored marquee, an oasis of calm and cool after the mayhem outside.
Mahesh had commandeered a large tent with separate areas for sleeping and a lounge area for visitors. The festival was a chance to eat together and meet family and friends, as well as worship. A time to celebrate what made life truly worth living, away from the grind of working a city office job or tilling the fields in rural India.
Of course, some could do it in style, Morgan thought, and this tent was a world away from the simple tarpaulin shelters they had seen in the areas further out. Mahesh's assistant brought them cold drinks from the fridge. Sometimes a sweet, fizzy soda was the best thing on earth. Morgan drank deeply.
Mahesh unrolled an aerial map of the camp on the table and pinned the corners down. Morgan and Jake gathered around.
"I got this from one of the news helicopters earlier."
Even at a tiny scale, the camp was huge, stretching for miles in both directions along the banks of the river. It was incredible to imagine the number of individual pilgrims massed in each quadrant, many having come from all over India and from abroad, linked by their desire to commune with God and receive forgiveness for their sin.
Morgan's own belief was complicated. Raised as a Jew by her father in Israel but not Jewish because her mother was Christian, she had always sat on the edge of faith and her work as a psychologist only served to make her question further. But she had seen the supernatural made real in her work with ARKANE, and that kept her seeking. Part of her wanted to believe that the Brahmastra weapon was only a myth, but she had gazed into the Gates of Hell not so long ago and she knew that the darkness was never far away.
"The Aghori sect roam alone through India but there are reports they are congregating around here." Mahesh pointed at one area of the map. "I have men there giving alms to the sadhus and watching for female pilgrims but I believe we should go and search for ourselves." He frowned and rubbed at his forehead in anguish. "If I can only get to my sister …"
Morgan put her hand on his arm. "We still have time."
As they readied themselves to go out into the camp again, the flap of the tent opened and a young boy poked his head in.
"Mr Kapoor," he said. "Delivery, sir." He walked further in with a large cardboard box, sent by courier from Delhi.
Mahesh took it and gave the boy some rupees. He looked at the label and then handed it to Jake.
"It's for you."
Jake grinned as he put the box on the table. "Excellent. This will help a lot." He tore open the package to reveal a quadcopter drone with a camera that could be attached on the mount underneath. The four rotors meant it was easily maneuverable and could be flown by an app on Jake's smart phone. "I got Martin to sort one out via the Delhi office." He focused on fiddling with the controls. "It'll help us search the crowd more easily."
"Even at night?" Morgan asked.
"Oh, don't worry about that," Mahesh said. "This place is alive by night with fires and torches. If anything, it's busier when it's not so hot, and anything is worth a try at this point."
Jake fitted the battery pack and camera.
"All fully charged and ready to go. You don't even have to actively fly these ones. It can follow the signal from my phone and fly above us as we walk." He grinned, looking every inch the schoolboy with a new toy.
Morgan itched to try it herself, but she knew she wouldn't get a chance while Jake held the controls. It was good to see him smile though, even as the hours counted down to the dawn.
They walked out of the tent into the sprawl of the camp. There were fires every few meters, casting a golden glow over the faces of the pilgrims. Women squatted cooking dinner for their families as the smell of cardamom and curry leaves filled the air. Children ran around, squealing in excitement as they met new friends. It was a social scene, eating and drinking together that was common the world over, in every culture. But as they walked towards the fires of the sadhus, the camp became more alien again.
A group of naked naga sadhus sat around a fire, one of them fanning smoke over the rest as they sat in meditation, suffering the heat and fumes in order to transcend physical sensation.
Mahesh led Morgan and Jake onwards towards the Aghori camp, which was nearer the water. Despite the crush of humanity in the area, there were no tents anywhere near their fires. The sect lived as outcasts as they traveled, sleeping in charnel grounds and embracing taboo. Even here they were pushed to the edge of the civilized world. It was eerily quiet and the hum of the camp seemed to fade behind them.
There were no overhead lights and as
they walked closer, Morgan realized that most of the Aghori sat around several larger fires, eyes fixed on the flames. They were skeletal thin, sustained by discarded rubbish, eating rotten human flesh and drinking the blood of animal sacrifice from their kapala skull bowls.
Mahesh weaved his way around the campfires, gazing at the figures around each of them in turn. Morgan followed him, a few paces behind, as Jake stood back a few meters, checking the drone settings.
A moan rose up from one of the men, turning to a wail as he began to shake and convulse. Mahesh kept walking, scanning for Asha's guru, but Morgan couldn't help but stay and watch for a moment. The other sadhus ignored the man now writhing on the ground as he kicked his heels into the fire. Surely he would burn.
"Lord Shiva comes." The harsh whisper was close. "Kali Ma comes."
Morgan turned quickly to find one of the Aghori right behind her. His breath stank of rotten flesh and his teeth were stained from the chillum pipe and the blood of sacrifice. He had bones woven through his long dreadlocks and his body was dusted with ash.
His eyes were glazed, like he was in some kind of trance state or just intoxicated by the alcohol that was part of the Aghori ritual. He held a live chicken in one hand and it squawked as it flapped in his fist. He stepped towards Morgan, backing her towards the fire.
"If we do not offer everything to Kali Ma," he hissed, "we cannot receive her blessing. Only by sacrifice can the world be saved."
Morgan couldn't see Jake or Mahesh anymore. The fires around her filled her vision with flame and she could see it reflected in the Aghori's eyes. The river had faded to black and the sky above lit with blood. Smoke swirled about her, acrid with some kind of herb. She felt dizzy and looked around, suddenly disorientated.
A low chanting began and she saw the other men were now staring at her, some rising to their feet to come closer. Morgan held herself steady even as her heart pounded with fear. There were so many of them.
