Kashi: Secret of the Black Temple (Harappa Series)

by Vineet Bajpai

  The supreme Overlords of the Order are not only men of great talent and genius. They are sophisticated mystics who understand the otherworldly forces of good and evil very deeply. Something that lies at the heart of the Black Temple has been the secret society’s greatest quest, as they believe the secret of the Black Temple carries with it an undefeatable force that can lay waste to the Order’s nefarious vision. For this very reason, this brotherhood has been waging war with the Dev-Raakshasa matth for centuries.

  It was the secret brotherhood that infiltrated the East India Company and went hunting for what they believed to be the first Black Temple in the ruins of Harappa. They well knew the glorious past of the civilization and that it was entirely indigenous. But they invented the Aryan Invasion theory because it allowed them to first psychologically dominate the sub-continent, and later create fault-lines between Indians based on this divisive hypothesis.

  They assassinated anyone that stood in the way of their global design and calculation. Captain Wayne Ashbrook was one among many such eliminations. Romi Pereira, Bala, Trijat Kapaalik, Brahmanand...they were all members of that secret society. On one end, they want to keep me alive because I am the prophesied devta who can lead them to the Black Temple’s secret, but on the other they are determined to kill me as soon as they lay their hands on it.’

  Dwarka Shastri nodded slowly, expressing his satisfaction with Vidyut’s encapsulation of the convoluted past.

  ‘Can we please continue in the evening, Vidyut? I need to go and meet a very important visitor,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, of course, Baba,’ replied Vidyut politely, although he could not help but wonder who this visitor could be that was pulling away Dwarka Shastri from this very important discussion – that too in its final chapters.

  ‘Come to me at 6 pm this evening, beta. We do not have much time left. The planets are going to start aligning soon. I have to tell you more about the Black Temple, about your ancestors, Markandeya Shastri, Advait Shastri, Durgadas Shastri…and of course, about my beloved Kartikeya.’

  Dwarka Shastri sighed at the name of Kartikeya. His intense love for Vidyut’s late father was evident.

  ‘I also need to tell you about the Goa Inquisition, about Prithvivallabha and most of all – about the Order’s final solution.’

  ‘Ji, Baba…’ said Vidyut as he got up to leave.

  Just as he was about to step out of Dwarka Shastri’s cottage, Vidyut could not shake off the term final solution that his Baba had used. It had a strangely sinister connotation to it. Something made him turn around and face his Baba again.

  ‘Just one question, please Baba. Even if you answer it in brief. What is the final solution they have in mind, Baba? Solution to what exactly? It is somehow disturbing me more than anything else.’

  Dwarka Shastri was silent for a moment, as he looked straight into Vidyut’s eyes. He was not surprised to see an intense sense of intuition in Vidyut. He spoke matter-of-factly.

  ‘They want to optimize the world’s population from nearly seven billion to less than a tenth of that, Vidyut.

  If the New World Order does indeed succeed in usurping global control under their totalitarian government, they will unleash the greatest human-culling since the beginning of time.

  They will slaughter six billion human beings.’

  The Marshes of Aryavarta, 1699 BCE

  RATNA-MARU

  Upon Manu’s request, the Saptarishi stepped forward.

  Prachanda had described how the blue flame had leapt towards the sky and in a loud, booming voice the seventh Saptarishi had instructed Vivasvan to burnish his sword in the raging blue inferno. He also then recounted how the battle thereafter was one-sided.

  From that moment on, the Ratna-Maru had become a cosmic weapon – making its bearer invincible. The only precondition was that the sword selected its wielder and not the other way around.

  The Ratna-Maru was fated to ultimately reach the hands of an extraordinary warrior.

  A warrior who was destined to wage mankind’s final, decisive war.

  In Kaliyuga.

  It was dark in the chamber they had gathered in. In these last days and months leading to the full onslaught of pralay, it was always dark. The opulent copper box gleamed under the light from the flickering torches.

  For Manu, the box did not just contain a divine sword. It housed the last object that his father had held in his hands. That made the Ratna-Maru a priceless gift for him.

  The Saptarishi now stood surrounding the copper trunk, their hands folded. More than Prachanda and Manu it was the divine seven who knew the real purpose of this godly armament. They knew who it was meant for. They knew that Manu was only a conduit for the sword to fulfil its definitive cosmic destiny.

  The Saptarishi now, in that very instant, composed and chanted a mantra in unison, invoking Lord Vishnu. The mantra they had just created would be intoned by billions of people for millennia to come, each time anyone wanted Vishnu to bless the beginning of something sacrosanct –

  ||‘Mangalam Bhagvaan Vishnu;

  Mangalam Garuda Dhvajah:

  Mangalam Pundari Kaakshaah;

  Mangalaaya Tano Harih.’||

  The seven young sages then stepped closer to the box and all of them placed their palms on its shining surface.

  What followed took everyone’s breath away.

  The eyes of the Saptarishi lit up with a bright blue glow. They seemed to be forging a connection with a greater, supernatural power. For a few moments, they stayed glued to the copper trunk, the blue incandescence emanating from their eyes getting brighter.

  Manu, Tara, Somdutt, Dhruv and Prachanda stood frozen in their places, entranced by what they were witnessing.

  Soon after the seven sages lifted their hands, the blue radiance slowly subsided. The Saptarishi looked at each other and exchanged pleasant grins. They then turned to Manu and one of them spoke.

  ‘Step forward and unveil the splendid Ratna-Maru, Satyavrata.’

  Manu lifted the heavy lid of the gleaming trunk.

  The magnificent long-sword lay cased in soft, dark brown leather.

  Satyavrata knew this brilliant sword all too well. It had adorned his great father’s waist-belt for decades. He folded his hands, shut his eyes in reverence to and in the memory of his father, and bowed to the mighty weapon that had won innumerable battles for Harappa.

  And yet something was different about the Ratna-Maru. Its bejeweled handle glimmered with a bright shine. The ominous blade engraved with terrifying verses from the Garuda Puraana, that prescribes the punishments of hell, dazzled with a glint of blue.

  Manu smiled.

  The color of Matsya. The color of Vishnu.

  ‘Go on, pick it up, Satyavrata,’ urged Prachanda, who was deeply satisfied at having fulfilled his promise to Vivasvan Pujari by uniting the Ratna-Maru with the Surya’s son.

  The Saptarishi and Pundit Somdutt raised their hands in blessing as Manu bowed to them. He then turned to Tara, who smiled and blinked at him with deepest love. His gaze then switched to Dhruv, who winked at him and gestured with his head towards the great sword.

  Manu stretched his right hand, gripped the handle of the Ratna-Maru firmly, and whispered a prayer to Mahakaal, the God of death, asking for salvation for the souls of those who were fated to die by this divine blade.

  He then lifted the heavy sword in one practiced swoop and raised it high up for everyone to behold.

  At the very same instant the skies erupted in an unusually deafening thunder-flash. The universe was rejoicing!

  As the Saptarishi, Somdutt, Prachanda, Tara and Dhruv looked on with awe at the brilliant warrior and his glistening heavenly blade, the screaming sky illuminated the chamber once again.

  Satyavrata Manu looked like a force of nature. A strong gust of wind blew his long hair as he appeared white against the blinding light of thunder, his eyes studying the menacing weapon.

  The Ratna-Maru glimmered in a stunning blue.
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  Banaras, 2017

  ADVAIT, DURGADAS & MARKANDEYA

  Vidyut knocked at the great matthadheesh’s door at exactly 6 pm.

  As he entered the cottage he was first surprised and then ecstatic to see a beautiful visitor he had not expected to find there.

  ‘Damini!’ exclaimed Vidyut, as Damini ran up to him and held him in a tight embrace.

  ‘Oh, Vidyut…’ was all she could say.

  Vidyut went red, shyly hugging the love of his life back. He knew such display of affection was not something the great matthadheesh was used to. Or would appreciate.

  In a few seconds Damini realized the same and pulled away, not looking at the matthadheesh.

  The devta turned to his Baba with shining, enquiring eyes.

  ‘Baba…Damini…how?’ he asked, smiling from ear to ear with happiness.

  Dwarka Shastri was delighted to see the beautiful couple together. They were meant to be.

  ‘Damini’s presence is essential, Vidyut. What you are going to face, as well as what is going to emerge from the Black Temple, will both need every ounce of your spirit to withstand. You are incomplete without Damini, O devta. Shiva is only half without Shakti. Vivasvan is inadequate without Sanjna. She has waited 3,700 years…just to accompany you in the fiery quest that awaits you. Her life-energy, her unquestioned love, her golden soul…will all stand by you when you face him, Vidyut.

  When you face Lucifer!’

  It was a large gathering now. Dwarka Shastri had called in everyone. What he was about to narrate was not fully known to anyone – not even Purohit ji or Naina.

  Naina had felt a lump in her throat as she saw Vidyut and Damini sitting next to each other, fingers intertwined, deeply in love. Vidyut had pulled away his hand as he saw Naina enter the room. He could not bear to hurt her. But it was with good reason that Naina had made such an impact on Vidyut. She was truly extraordinary. She simply blinked at Vidyut, gave a warm hug to Damini and sat down close to Dwarka Shastri’s feet – her usual place of comfort and love around her Baba.

  Her heart wept. Her face glowed with a beaming smile.

  ‘The killing of Wayne Ashbrook was a much later episode. The spilling of blood was going on for centuries. One of our greatest ancestors, the hooded warrior-priest, Advait Shastri, who was a close confidante of Constantine the Great and had even tried to dissuade him from unleashing his grand design, was the first to be surrounded by seventy knights of the Order. These knights represented the most primitive form of the Templars much before they officially arrived on the scene several hundred years later. Advait Shastri was assassinated ruthlessly. Of course, not before he had slaughtered twenty-seven of them, even though he was alone and unarmed. They say the battle raged on for hours and the field was sprayed red for hundreds of yards. Also, that the hooded monk was drenched from head to toe in the blood of the seventy knights. After it was all over, the surviving knights of the Order bowed to his mutilated body, stunned by his astonishing skill and valor. Advait Shastri found a legendary mention in secret Templar chronicles for hundreds of years. His battle technique was recorded and used to train the finest Templar knights who later led the Crusades.

  This was in the 4th century. Constantine was privy to the secret of the Black Temple. By attempting to unify the world he was convinced that he was serving the cosmic order. But his devotion faded with his death, only to be replaced by the cruel Overlords of the brotherhood.’

  There was a hushed silence in the room. Vidyut, Damini, Purohit ji, Naina, Sonu and Balvanta sat in a daze as they heard the matthadheesh turn the bloodstained pages of the Shastri clan’s history.

  ‘We kept building temples every couple of hundred years – sometimes with the help of devout kings. On other occasions, we used the significant resources of the Dev-Raakshasa matth,’ continued Dwarka Shastri.

  ‘But why only temples, Baba? Why could the secret not be hidden somewhere else? In say a palace or under a grave for that matter? Why only Black Temples?’ asked Vidyut.

  ‘Good question, Vidyut. Tomorrow you will discover the answer for yourself. The indescribable radiance and celestial intensity of what lies buried in the Black Temple needs an equally powerful sanctum. Each Black Temple takes years of consecration by not just the chanting of mantras by hundreds of accomplished sages, but also by intricately engraving the most potent of those mantras in figurative forms into the walls, pillars and ceilings of each shrine. Any lesser structure would get burnt to ashes by the heat of the ancient secret.’

  Vidyut nodded to express his understanding. Brave and self-confident as he was, there was no lying to himself that he was nervous. Nervous about what lay in the Black Temple. More so about the name that was cropping up again and again.

  Someone he was supposed to take on.

  Lucifer.

  ‘The Black Temple kept changing its form, its manifestation and its location. Sacred temples like Badrinath, Somnath, Vishwanath, Kedarnath…were all built and served as holy Black Temples at different points. But the one temple that kept the secret secure the longest, for several hundred years, was the magnificent Kailasa Temple at Ellora,’ elucidated Dwarka Shastri.

  Damini and Vidyut exchanged glances. They had discussed visiting the mystical rock-cut temples of Ajanta and Ellora several times, but could never really make it. And now here they were, listening to the tale of the Kailasa Temple as a part of their own story.

  ‘Our brilliant forefather, Durgadas Shastri, was the one who encouraged the great King Kannesvara, who was better known as Prithvivallabha, to undertake the building of the Kailasa Temple in the 8th century. How the temple was built, how it could harness technology that was not even available to mankind at that time, is a very different, very intriguing story altogether. For now, it will suffice to know that the safety of Ellora did not last forever.

  Then came the Goa Inquisition, and our ancestor Markandeya Shastri, who fought the Portuguese plunderers in the 16th century.

  After the Kailasa Temple at Ellora no longer remained a safe haven for the secret of the Black Temple, the location was changed numerous times. Finally, in the year 1572 AD, our ancestor Markandeya Shastri decided to take the precious, divine secret with him to the very peaceful Konkan region of our country, and conceal it in a Black Temple built at the coastal province of Goa.

  For all his precautions and attempts to take the secret away from the reach of the Order, they caught up. What followed was among the bloodiest and most tyrannical ethnic-cleansing in the history of the sub-continent – the Goa Inquisition.’

  Vidyut was well informed about the Goa Inquisition. He looked at Damini and added to what his Baba was saying -

  ‘The Goa Inquisition that was established by the Roman Catholic clergy is strangely underplayed and understudied in our country, Damini. It was religious persecution in its ugliest form. Thousands of Hindus and Muslims burnt alive at the stake, starved to death in prisons and tortured by being skinned from head to toe – all for reciting a verse of their original faith or for using Konkani for worship or for writing.’

  Damini found the description very disturbing.

  ‘I had heard about the violence of the missionaries and the Portuguese soldiers in Goa, Vidyut, but I did not know it was so horrifying,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, it was worse,’ said Vidyut, deciding to spare Damini more gory details of torture and persecution.

  The matthadheesh continued his account of the Black Temple.

  ‘However, the real purpose of the Inquisition was to find the Black Temple. The armies of the Portuguese king plundered Goa. Temples were destroyed at a merciless frenzy. Making sure that they missed nothing, even the mosques were not spared.’

  Dwarka Shastri stopped for a breather. Damini used the opportunity to soak in all the information.

  ‘The final battle of Markandeya Shastri is a magnificent, mysterious saga of sacrifice and lionheartedness. But we don’t have time for it today,’ said Dwarka Shastri.

  ‘
We understand, Baba. But we do want to hear the story of the Kailasa Temple as well as that of Pundit Markandeya Shastri,’ insisted Damini softly.

  ‘Yes, of course, bitiya. When all this is over, I will tell you about it in detail. You both must know the tales of those marvelous men and their stunning pursuits. At this time, just know that whether it was Pundit Advait, Markandeya or Durgadas, all died fighting, protecting the secret of the Black Temple. And true to the ancient curse – they all died violently, painfully.’

  ‘And so did my father, Kartikeya Shastri…’ muttered Vidyut.

  ‘Yes, my son,’ replied Dwarka Shastri. ‘But with Kartikeya it was a little different.

  Kartikeya tried to, once and for all, burn down the entire Illuminati.’

  The Dark Forests of Aryavarta, 1698 BCE

  NARA-MUNDA

  Even the ruthless bandit chieftains from the badlands were nauseated.

  They had travelled from far lands at the invitation of the dreaded Nara-Munda. While they were all well aware that the daityas were cannibals, they could not believe the horrifying spectacle of the daitya stronghold that lay deep in the heart of the dark forests.

  The stench of cindering human flesh was unbearable. Several fighters of the warlords threw up or passed out at the sight of human limbs and organs being roasted on open fires. Daitya children kicked around freshly chopped heads as playthings and the women wore jewelry made of bones from their own kind.

  As a goodwill gesture, Nara-Munda had permitted each warlord to come with a posse of a hundred guards. But only minutes into the vast daitya camp it became clear to the bandit chieftains that they were now at the mercy of the feared daitya-king. It was for the first time that any of them was seeing the daityas in full strength. Their camp spread over miles and their mammoth numbers totally unnerved the unsuspecting visitors.

  There were over a hundred thousand of them! All ready to die for Nara-Munda. All thirsty for human blood.