The Secret of the Nagas

by Amish Tripathi

  ‘What is it with you Suryavanshis?’ asked Divodas. ‘Why can’t you take a compliment properly?’

  Shiva and Ayurvati laughed out loud. Parvateshwar did not find it funny. ‘Lord Ram said humility is the mark of a great person. If we forget our humility, we insult Lord Ram.’

  ‘Parvateshwar, I don’t think Divodas was suggesting anything that would hurt Lord Ram,’ said Ayurvati. ‘We all respect the Lord. I think Divodas was only suggesting we enjoy the better aspects of our life a little more uninhibitedly. Nothing wrong with that.’

  ‘Well,’ said Shiva, changing the topic, ‘what I’m more interested in is this strange extension at the bottom of the ship. First of all, it must have been very difficult to design. You would have to get the weight and dimensions exactly right or else the ship would keel over. So I must compliment your engineers.’

  ‘I have no problems with accepting compliments, My Lord,’ smiled Divodas. ‘My engineers are brilliant!’

  Shiva grinned. ‘That they are. But what is the purpose of this extension? What does it do?’

  ‘It opens locks, My Lord.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It is a key. You will see how it works when we reach the gates of Branga.’

  Shiva frowned.

  ‘Any ship without this can never enter Branga. It will be crushed.’

  ‘The gates on the mighty Ganga?’ asked Parvateshwar. ‘I had thought that was a myth. I can’t imagine how a gate could be built across a river of this size and flow.’

  Divodas smiled. ‘You need legendary engineers to build reality out of myth. And we have no shortage of such men in Branga!’

  ‘So how does that gate work?’ asked Shiva.

  ‘It will be much better if you see it, My Lord,’ said Divodas. ‘Awesome structures like that cannot be described. They can only be seen.’

  Just then, a woman holding a one-month old baby came up. It was the Branga high priestess. The same one who had stopped Bhagirath’s attack at the Branga building.

  Shiva looked at the child and smiled. ‘What a lovely baby!’

  ‘That’s my daughter, My Lord,’ said Divodas. ‘And this is Yashini, my wife.’

  Yashini bent down to touch Shiva’s feet and then placed her daughter there. Shiva immediately bent down and picked up the child. ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Devayani, My Lord,’ said Yashini.

  Shiva smiled. ‘She’s been named after the daughter of Shukra, the teacher?’

  Yashini nodded. ‘Yes, My Lord.’

  ‘It’s a beautiful name. I’m sure she will teach the world great knowledge as she grows up,’ said Shiva, as he handed the baby back to Yashini.

  ‘Dreaming for our children’s careers is too ambitious for us Brangas, My Lord,’ said Yashini. ‘All we can hope for is that they live to see their future.’

  Shiva nodded in sympathy. ‘I will not stop till I change this, Yashini.’

  ‘Thank you, My Lord,’ said Divodas. ‘I know you will succeed. We do not care for our own lives. But we have to save our children. We will be forever grateful to you when you succeed.’

  ‘But Divodas,’ interrupted Ayurvati. ‘Even the Lord is grateful to you.’

  Both Shiva and Divodas turned towards Ayurvati. Surprised.

  ‘Why?’ asked Divodas.

  ‘Your medicine saved Kartik’s life,’ explained Ayurvati.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Well, many a times, within the womb, the umbilical cord gets wrapped around the baby’s neck. In some of these cases, the baby cannot survive the journey of birthing. It suffocates and dies. I’m not sure since I wasn’t there, but I think that is what may have happened with Princess Sati’s first child as well. Kartik had the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. But this time, I applied your medicine on Princess Sati’s belly. It somehow permeated the womb and gave Kartik the strength to survive those few crucial moments till he slipped out. Your medicine saved his life.’

  ‘What medicine?’ asked Divodas.

  ‘The Naga medicine,’ said Ayurvati, frowning. ‘I recognised the paste as soon as I smelt it. And only you could have given it, right?’

  ‘But I didn’t!’

  ‘You didn’t?’ asked a shocked Ayurvati, turning to Shiva. ‘Then... Where did you get the medicine from, My Lord?’

  Shiva was stunned. Like someone had cruelly destroyed one of his most precious memories.

  ‘My Lord? What is it?’ asked Ayurvati.

  Shiva, looking furious, abruptly turned around. ‘Nandi! Bhadra! Come with me.’

  ‘My Lord, where are you going?’ asked Parvateshwar.

  But Shiva was already walking away. Followed by Nandi, Veerbhadra and their platoon.

  ‘PANDITJI!’

  Shiva was in the Kashi Vishwanath temple. As ordered, Nandi and Veerbhadra waited outside, along with their platoon.

  ‘PANDITJI!’

  Where the hell is he?

  And then Shiva realised he didn’t need to shout. All he needed to do was transmit his thoughts. Vasudevs! Are any of you listening?

  No answer. Shiva’s anger rose another notch.

  I know you can hear me! Will one of you have the guts to speak?

  Still no answer.

  Where did you get the Naga medicine from?

  Absolute silence.

  Explain yourself! What relationship do you and the Nagas have? How deep does this go?

  No Vasudev responded.

  By the holy lake, answer me! Or I add your name to the enemies of Good!

  Shiva didn’t hear a word. He turned towards the idol of Lord Rudra. For some strange reason, it didn’t appear as fearsome as he remembered. It seemed peaceful. Serene. Almost like it was trying to tell Shiva something.

  Shiva turned around and screamed one last time. ‘VASUDEVS! ANSWER ME NOW OR I ASSUME THE WORST!’

  Hearing no answer, Shiva stormed out of the temple.

  Chapter 9

  What is Your Karma?

  ‘What happened, Shiva?’

  The little boy turned around to find his uncle standing behind him. The boy quickly wiped his eyes, for tears were a sign of weakness in Guna men. The uncle smiled. He sat down next to Shiva and put his arm around his diminutive shoulder.

  They rested in silence for a while, letting the waters of the Mansarovar lake lap their feet. It was cold. But they didn’t mind.

  ‘What ails you, my child?’ asked the uncle.

  Shiva looked up. He had always wondered how a fierce warrior like his uncle always sported such a calm, understanding smile.

  ‘Mother told me that I shouldn’t feel guilty about...’

  The words stopped as tears choked Shiva. He could feel his brow throbbing once again.

  ‘About that poor woman?’ asked the uncle.

  The boy nodded.

  ‘And, what do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know what to think anymore.’

  ‘Yes, you do. Listen to your heart. What do you think?’

  Shiva’s little hands kept fidgeting with his tiger skin skirt. ‘Mother thinks I couldn’t have helped her. That I am too small, too young, too powerless. I would have achieved nothing. Instead of helping her, I would probably have just got myself injured.’

  ‘That’s probably true. But does that matter?’

  The little boy looked up, his eyes narrowed, tears welling up. ‘No.’

  The uncle smiled. ‘Think about it. If you had tried to help her, there is a chance that she would still have suffered. But there is also a chance, however small, that she may have escaped. But if you didn’t even try, there was no chance for her. Was there?’

  Shiva nodded.

  ‘What else did your mother tell you?’

  ‘That the woman didn’t even try to fight back.’

  ‘Yes, that may be true.’

  ‘And mother says that if the woman didn’t try to fight, why would it be wrong for me to do the same?’

  ‘That is an importan
t point. The sin was being committed against her. And yet she was accepting it.’

  They kept quiet for some time, staring at the setting sun.

  ‘So, even if the woman didn’t fight back,’ said the uncle. ‘What do you think you should have done?’

  ‘I...’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I think it doesn’t matter if the woman didn’t fight to protect herself. No matter what, I should have fought for her.’

  ‘Why?’

  Shiva looked up. ‘Do you also think I should have been pragmatic? That it wasn’t wrong to run away?’

  ‘What I think doesn’t matter. I want to hear your interpretation. Why do you think it was wrong for you to run away?’

  Shiva looked down, fidgeting with his skirt. His brow was throbbing madly. ‘Because it feels wrong to me.’

  The uncle smiled. ‘That is the answer. It feels wrong, because what you did was against your karma. You don’t have to live with the woman’s karma. What she did was her choice. You have to live with your own karma.’

  Shiva looked up.

  ‘It is your karma to fight evil. It doesn’t matter if the people that evil is being committed against don’t fight back. It doesn’t matter if the entire world chooses to look the other way. Always remember this. You don’t live with the consequences of other people’s karma. You live with the consequences of your own.’

  Shiva nodded slightly.

  ‘Does that hurt?’ asked the uncle, pointing at the blackish-red blotch on Shiva’s brow, right between his eyes.

  Shiva pressed it hard. The pressure provided some relief. ‘No. But it burns. It burns a lot.’

  ‘Especially when you are upset?’

  Shiva nodded.

  The uncle reached into his coat and pulled out a small pouch. ‘This is a very precious medicine. I have carried it for a long time. And I feel you are the correct person to receive it.’

  Shiva took the pouch. Opening it, he found a reddish-brown thick paste inside. ‘Will it make the burning go away?’

  The uncle smiled. ‘It’ll set you on the path of your destiny.’

  Shiva frowned. Confused.

  Pointing towards the gargantuan Himalayas extending beyond the Mansarovar, the uncle continued. ‘My child, your destiny is much larger than these massive mountains. But in order to realise it, you will have to cross these very same massive mountains.’

  The uncle didn’t feel the need to explain any more. He took some of the reddish-brown paste and applied it on Shiva’s brow, in a neat vertical line, up from between his eyes to his hair line. Shiva felt immediate relief as his brow cooled down. Then the uncle applied some paste around Shiva’s throat. He took the remaining portion of the medicine and placed it in Shiva’s right palm. Then he cut his finger lightly and dropped a little bit of blood into the paste, whispering, ‘We will never forget your command, Lord Rudra. This is the blood oath of a Vayuputra.’

  Shiva looked at his uncle and then down at his palm, which cradled the strange reddish-brown paste mixed with his uncle’s blood.

  ‘Put it at the back of your mouth,’ said the uncle. ‘But don’t swallow it. Massage it with your tongue till it gets absorbed.’

  Shiva did that.

  ‘Now you are ready. Let fate choose the time.’

  Shiva didn’t understand. But he felt the relief the medicine gave. ‘Do you have any more of this medicine?’

  ‘I have given you all that I have, my child.’

  ‘The Vasudevs had the Naga medicine?’ asked a shocked Sati.

  She had intended to speak to Shiva about the disturbing conversation with her father in the morning. She was still stunned that a back-up manufacturing facility for the Somras existed and that no one knew about it. But that was immediately forgotten on seeing Shiva’s enraged face.

  ‘I have been misled. They are probably in alliance with the Nagas! Can’t you trust anyone in this country?’

  Something within Sati told her that the Vasudevs couldn’t be evil. It didn’t add up. ‘Shiva, are you probably jumping to...’

  ‘Jumping? Jumping to conclusions?’ glared Shiva. ‘You know what Ayurvati said. That medicine could only be made in Naga lands. We know how the Brangas got it. They are being blackmailed. What is the explanation for the Vasudevs? They needed the Nagas to build their temples?’

  Sati kept quiet.

  Shiva walked up to the window and stared hard at the Vishwanath temple. For some strange reason, he could hear his inner voice repeating the same thought. Stay calm. Don’t jump to conclusions.

  Shiva shook his head.

  ‘I’m sure the Vasudevs would have assumed that you would figure out where the medicine came from,’ said Sati. ‘So there can be only two explanations as to why the Vasudevs gave it to you.’

  Shiva turned around.

  ‘Either they are stupid. Or they think the safe birth of your son is so important that they are willing to risk your anger.’

  Shiva frowned.

  ‘From what I have gathered from you, I don’t think they are stupid,’ said Sati. ‘That leaves us with only one choice. They think that if anything happened to our son, you would be so devastated that it would harm their cause against evil.’

  Shiva chose silence.

  The Naga Lord of the People sat on his chair in his personal chambers, right next to the window. He could hear the songs of the choir that paraded the streets of Panchavati at this time of the evening, once a week. The Queen had wanted to ban the sad songs they sang. She despised them as defeatist. But the Naga Rajya Sabha, the elected Royal Council, had voted against her move, allowing the songs to continue.

  The song triggered powerful emotions in the Naga, but he held them within.

  You were my world, my God, my creator,

  And yet, you abandoned me.

  I didn’t seek you, you called me,

  And yet, you abandoned me.

  I honoured you, lived by your rules, coloured myself in your colours,

  And yet, you abandoned me.

  You hurt me, you deserted me, you failed in your duties,

  And yet, I am the monster.

  Tell me Lord, what can I...

  ‘Disgusting song,’ said the Queen, interrupting the Naga’s thoughts. ‘Shows our weakness and our attachments!’

  ‘Mausi,’ said the Naga as he rose. ‘I didn’t hear you come in.’

  ‘How could you? These nauseating songs drown out the world. Drown out any positive thought.’

  ‘Vengeance is not a positive thought, Your Highness,’ smiled the Naga. ‘Also the choir does sing happy songs as well.’

  The Queen waved her hand. ‘I have something more important to discuss.’

  ‘Yes, Mausi.’

  The Queen took a deep breath. ‘Did you meet the Vasudevs?’

  The Naga narrowed his eyes. He was surprised that it had taken the Queen so long to find out. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’ asked the Queen, barely restraining her temper.

  ‘Your Highness, I believe we can use their help.’

  ‘They will never support us. They may not be our enemies. But they will never be our friends!’

  ‘I disagree. I think we have a common enemy. They will come to our side.’

  ‘Nonsense! The Vasudevs are fanatic purveyors of an ancient legend. Some foreigner with a blue throat is not going to save this country!’

  ‘But another foreigner with a beaded beard saved this country once, didn’t he?’

  ‘Don’t compare this tribal to the great Lord Rudra. This country is probably fated for destruction. All India has given us is pain and sorrow. Why should we care?’

  ‘Because whatever it may be, it is our country too.’

  The Queen grunted angrily. ‘Tell me the real reason why you gave them our medicine. You know it is in short supply. We have to send the annual quota to the Brangas. I am not breaking my word. They are the only decent people in this wretched land. The only ones who don’t want to kill us all.�
�

  ‘The quota of the Brangas will not be affected, Your Highness. I have only given my personal share.’

  ‘In the holy name of Bhoomidevi, why? Have you suddenly started believing in the Neelkanth too?’

  ‘What I believe doesn’t matter, Your Highness. What matters is that the people of India believe.’

  The Queen stared hard at the Naga. ‘That is not the real reason.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘DON’T LIE TO ME!’

  The Naga kept quiet.

  ‘You did it for that vile woman,’ stated the Queen.

  The Naga was disturbed, but his voice remained calm. ‘No. And at least you shouldn’t speak of her that way, Your Highness.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because besides me, you are the only one who knows the truth.’

  ‘Sometimes I wish I didn’t!’

  ‘It’s too late for that now.’

  The Queen sniggered. ‘It’s true that the gods don’t give all abilities to one person. You truly are your own worst enemy.’

  Daksha was sitting on the ground. He had been shocked at the unscheduled appearance of Maharishi Bhrigu in Devagiri. The Emperor of Meluha had not sought an audience with the sage.

  Bhrigu looked down hard at Daksha, deeply unhappy. ‘You disobeyed a direct command, Your Highness.’

  Daksha remained quiet, head bowed low. How did the Maharishi get to know? Only Sati, Veerini and I had been in on the conversation. Is Veerini spying on me? Why is everyone against me? Why me?

  Bhrigu stared at Daksha, reading his thoughts. The sage always knew that Daksha was weak. But the Emperor had never dared disobey a direct order. Furthermore, Bhrigu didn’t really give that many orders. He was concerned about only one thing. On all other matters, he let Daksha do whatever he liked.

  ‘You have been made Emperor for a reason,’ said Bhrigu. ‘Please don’t make me question my judgement.’

  Daksha kept quiet, scared.

  Bhrigu bent down and turned Daksha’s face up. ‘Did you also tell her the location, Your Highness?’

  Daksha whispered softly. ‘No, My Lord. I swear.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me!’

  ‘I swear, My Lord.’

  Bhrigu read Daksha’s thoughts. He was satisfied.