The Mists of Brahma

by CHRISTOPHER C. DOYLE

  For he had no idea where his destination lay.

  It was rough going, but it didn’t matter. He was made of sterner stuff than the weakling humans of Kaliyuga. And he had his yogic powers. The stifling heat and oppressive sultriness of the forest, the buzzing of flies and other insects, mattered little to him as he stalked through the undergrowth, between the trees, following no path, for none existed here. Not that that posed an obstacle, for he could manipulate matter using his thoughts—an outcome of his strength in the siddhis—so trees parted and bushes made way for him as he steamrolled his way through the dense forest.

  What did matter to him were the changes that had occurred in Bhu-lok during the 5,000 years he had been away, immersed in meditation, and the complications caused by the events that had transpired in these 5,000 years.

  When his meditation had been interrupted upon the birth of the child—the One of the prophecy—he had set about finding the means to make his mission successful. He had known that part of what he sought was in Deva-lok and part in one of the levels of Pataala-lok, but he had no idea in which level it was.

  Consequently, his first priority had been to try and work out where he should search.

  And he had started with Deva-lok. After all, that was also where one part of the prophecy was hidden, according to legend. That much he had got to know before he had disappeared on his self-imposed exile and tapasya.

  His enhanced powers had aided him in gaining access and ensuring that the Devas had no inkling that he was travelling to and from their world. It had come as a bit of a surprise to him to learn that the Devas had blocked all access to their world to humans, save for the exceptional yogi who had the ability to pass unscathed through the barriers they had erected around the portal that led to Deva-lok. But then he had learned the reason why the Devas had acted so strongly against the humans.

  It had taken time to obtain this information, but it told him why he had failed in his efforts to find what he sought in the world of the Devas.

  His multiple visits to Deva-lok had not been futile, though. He had found the means to locate the gates to the five levels of Pataala-lok. That was something.

  So, Shukra had returned to Bhu-lok and begun his search anew. He had lost fourteen years in the bargain, but it didn’t matter at the time. He had thought he had plenty of time to find what he needed to execute his plan.

  Now, things were different. The power of Kali was peaking. The events taking place in Bhu-lok were evidence of this. The sadhs were turning on each other, erecting imaginary barriers to separate groups based on tenuous notions of kinship. They were destroying their own progeny, in a matter of speaking, through illusory incentives that led to suicides and depression. Just as it had been foretold.

  It was just a matter of time. It would not be more than a few years before the time was ripe for him to put the final part of his plan into motion. That was all the time he had.

  And he was still searching.

  For the location of the secrets he sought had been hidden away almost 4,000 years ago by a leader of the Sangha, a Maharishi called Tribhuvan. In order to succeed in his quest, Shukra had to first find the manuscripts that described the locations where the secrets were hidden.

  And then he would have to find those locations to unearth the mantras and other resources he needed for his plan to be successful.

  That was the other complication.

  Bhu-lok had changed beyond recognition in the last 5,000 years. Bharatvarsha was no longer the land it used to be, in almost every way.

  Today, he was pushing through this dense forest, climbing mountains whose slopes were covered with closely packed trees and dense undergrowth, making it all but impossible for anyone without his powers to reach the site that he had been directed to.

  He was searching for a temple, an ancient ruin that was thousands of years old. No one knew how old it really was. He had seen a glimpse of the temple when he read Maharishi Dhruv’s mind. And he had been hunting for it for five months now, ever since he had left Allahabad. Something told him it was crucial to his search for the mantras.

  Yesterday, he had chanced upon someone who told him about an ancient temple that was rumoured to be in these parts. He had been pointed to some archives and temple inscriptions that described it.

  Shukra had studied the inscriptions and the manuscripts in the archives. The description of the temple matched what he had seen in Dhruv’s mind. Finally, he thought, he was getting somewhere.

  He had set out for the forest immediately and had spent the day hiking through it. But he still had no idea how far he had to go.

  Suddenly, he stopped and stood still.

  He had felt something.

  A great rage rose within him.

  Someone was meddling with the bhutagana. He could sense it. Lord Shiva had, at Shukra’s request during his meditation, given him complete command of the bhutagana; their services would be at his disposal, to aid him in his search. The only time Shukra had relinquished that control was when he had temporarily given the command of the bhutagana to Vishwaraj in Bhimbetka.

  Now, someone had breached the barrier. He didn’t know how, but someone had gained control over a small segment of the spirits and creatures that made up the bhutagana.

  Shukra stood, his eyes closed, trying to sense who or what was toying with his forces.

  It was a yogi, in another forest, not far from here.

  Who could it be?

  Shukra couldn’t make out the identity of the yogi. Nor could he tell what purpose was being served by this unnecessary trifling with the creatures under his command.

  He continued to concentrate, trying to reach out, to understand, but it seemed that the yogi had put up a protective barrier that even he could not penetrate.

  Shukra was perplexed.

  Then, suddenly, the creatures that had been commandeered by the yogi were returned to the bhutagana.

  It had lasted just a few moments. A temporary breach.

  But a breach nevertheless.

  Still wondering who the yogi might be, Shukra pressed ahead.

  He had to find the temple. Everything else would have to wait.

  Chapter Eighty-nine

  Second Test

  The Forest

  Unknown Location

  Maya stood, gazing at the immense cleft that had opened up before her. It hovered in mid-air, stretching from a foot above the ground to three feet above her head.

  It was a portal.

  But a portal to what? To where? Maya had no clue.

  How had it even come to be there?

  One moment, she was walking along the narrow forest track, alert to rustles in the undergrowth and whispers among the leaves that would indicate the presence of monsters, like those she had battled in her last test three months ago. The next moment, a yawning gap in the forest had opened up, swallowing up the trees and everything else that had stood there just a moment before.

  She realised that this was her test. She had to pass through the portal.

  What would happen next?

  She reached into her core of calmness, feeling the pulse of the subtle energy that swirled around there. She immersed herself in its glow. This time she had used the new mantras that Satyavachana had taught her, to fortify her inner pool of tranquillity and protect it from external influences.

  Taking a deep breath, Maya stepped through the portal, unafraid.

  A deep blackness enveloped her. She could see nothing, not even her hand when she held it in front of her face.

  Maya had never seen such utter, black, darkness before.

  She quickly pushed herself deeper into the pool of energy within and heard the note again. It was the same note as last time. She recognised its timbre, its frequency.

  The sound of the universe.

  Maya allowed herself to synchronise with the note, her entire being resonating at the same frequency as that of the universe.

  She moved ahead in the darkness, trusti
ng her senses and her oneness with the universe to protect her from harm.

  What was this place? Where was she?

  There was complete and total silence all around her.

  Slowly, confidently, she made her way forward.

  The darkness seemed to part before her as she advanced, but immediately coalesced around and behind her as she passed through.

  Then, without warning, it hit her.

  Chapter Ninety

  Inside the Portal

  Inside the Portal

  It came at her in waves, one after the other, each subsequent wave crashing against her mind even before the earlier one could subside.

  Maya couldn’t fathom what it was. It felt alive—was it one or many? But there was no shape, substance or form to it—or them. But whatever it was, and however many, she could feel them, sense them, as clearly as if they were material, substantial, physical.

  Thoughts, a profusion of them, swarmed into her mind, all at once, as if trying to burrow into her very being and consume her. There were positive thoughts and negative thoughts, happy emotions and depressing emotions, all battering her consciousness ceaselessly.

  Even without thinking, Maya recited the mantras to fortify her inner calmness, her centre, reinforcing the barriers. She had to keep these thoughts out. There were too many of them and of too many shades, for her to allow them through. If they did slip through, they would devour her inner energy and she would succumb to their sheer force.

  She would not allow that to happen.

  She knew that the Maharishi was not with her. He had not entered the portal. He was waiting outside, counting on her to get through this test on her own.

  His confidence gave her fortitude.

  Maya began reciting the Narsimha mantra, alternating it with mantras to keep at bay the impact of the waves pounding her mind.

  She didn’t know how long she stood there chanting, immersed in her inner pool of energy, ensuring that her synchronisation with the sound of the universe was not disrupted. It seemed like an eternity. But she did not stop to think. She carried on, not missing a beat, just as she had been practising for the last three months.

  And then, just as suddenly as the waves had materialised, they ceased.

  Silence reigned once more.

  Silence and stillness.

  No waves.

  No thoughts.

  No emotions.

  Just the darkness.

  Chapter Ninety-one

  Briefing

  The Forest

  Unknown Location

  Satyavachana gazed at Maya thoughtfully. ‘Hmmm,’ he said, without taking his eyes off her.

  Maya stood before him, nervous, wondering what that meant. Had she passed or not?

  After her last test, Satyavachana had told her that she needed to build her defences against attracting the thoughts and emotions of her opponents. It might prove to be a weakness for her in the event of an actual encounter with the creatures he was testing her with. That had been over ninety days ago. Since then, the Maharishi had put her through some gruelling new exercises, new mantras and techniques that left her mentally drained by the time she returned to the Gurukul every evening.

  Too drained for even the customary evening walks with her friends.

  Today, after all those months of toil, Satyavachana had assessed her once more. He had felt confident that she was ready for the test.

  But he had created a new illusion for her. An illusion that was far more powerful and perilous than facing the bhutagana.

  Maya had survived unscathed. But she still didn’t know if she had managed to do it by herself or if Satyavachana had helped her along.

  She was awed at the Maharishi’s power and ability to create the illusion that he had tested her with. It had seemed so real. And so menacing.

  Finally, after what seemed like a very long time, Satyavachana smiled broadly at her. ‘You did it, Maya! You passed the test. And not a mark on you. I just wanted to be sure that there was nothing I needed to do to help you recover. But you need no help at all. You’re just fine! Well done!’

  Maya could barely contain her delight. She didn’t know if the other Rishis in the Gurukul were made to undergo this test, but surely, if she had emerged victorious here, she had a good chance of making it to the Gana.

  ‘Can I start learning mantras now?’ she asked.

  ‘But child, you did learn mantras. You used them in the portal, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, Mahamati, I did.’ A note of desperation crept into Maya’s voice. ‘But I want to learn the other categories of mantras. The offensive mantras, the ones to create illusions, like the one you just created. I’ve never been able to master those!’

  ‘In time, child, in time,’ Satyavachana said soothingly.

  ‘I’ll never make it to the Gana at this rate,’ Maya sulked.

  ‘Now, now,’ Satyavachana said sternly. ‘Just when I thought you’d grown up a bit, you go throwing a tantrum.’

  ‘Sorry, Mahamati.’

  ‘It’s all right.’ There was a twinkle in Satyavachana’s eye.

  Maya cheered up on seeing it. It meant that the revered Mahamati was going to teach her something new. Something unexpected.

  ‘I’m going to tell you about something that few people even in the Sangha know about,’ the Maharishi said to her. ‘Come, let us walk.’

  Maya wondered what it was that he was going to share with her. By now she knew he was a repository of knowledge. And she was appreciative of the fact that he had chosen her to share much of this knowledge with. It could have been Ags he had chosen to teach. But, no, it was Maya. She felt lucky.

  She looked at him expectantly.

  The Maharishi held her gaze. ‘I’m going to tell you about the Mists of Brahma.’

  Chapter Ninety-two

  About the Mists

  The Forest

  ‘The Mists of Brahma,’ Satyavachana continued, ‘were created 5,000 years ago by the Saptarishis, when they withdrew from Bhu-lok along with the Devas. The Mists were primarily a means for the Devas to keep in contact with humans even in Kaliyuga, without having to set foot on Bhu-lok. The idea was that the Devas could continue to preserve the balance in Kaliyuga, and advise and oversee the nascent Sangha without having to exercise their own powers. Thus, the power of Kali could be counteracted by the Sangha, aided by the Devas.’

  He glanced at Maya to make sure she was paying attention, then resumed.

  ‘The Mists were the conduit to Deva-lok for selected humans who were permitted entry. These humans, who were powerful Maharishis, could travel instantly between Deva-lok and Bhu-lok through the Mists.’ Satyavachana paused, as if considering what to say next.

  ‘The Mists had another attribute. One that was both beneficial and fraught with danger. And that was their ability to transport anyone who entered them to a different place and time before the start of Kaliyuga; that is, before the Mists were created. Since the only people who were allowed entry were powerful Maharishis from the Sangha, they were able to use their thoughts to either enter Deva-lok or to transport themselves to a place and time of their choice; much like we use our thoughts during atma travel. This allowed the Sangha members to go back in time before the start of Kaliyuga, observe the ancient Rishis, Saptarishis and Kshatriyas of yore, and learn from them.’

  Maya wondered why Satyavachana was telling her all this. The Maharishi never indulged in idle talk, so he must be leading up to something. She had never heard or read of the Mists of Brahma, either at the Gurukul or in any of the ancient texts that her father had got her to read. All that she had heard since joining the Gurukul was that humans could travel to Deva-lok in the earlier yugas but not in Kaliyuga. She was surprised to hear that a means for entry into Deva-lok still existed.

  ‘So why am I telling you all this?’ Satyavachana glanced at her.

  ‘We’re going to Deva-lok to look for the part of the prophecy that is hidden there?’ Maya guessed.

 
; Satyavachana laughed heartily and clapped his hands in delight. ‘Just the kind of answer I should have expected from you! That’s what I love about you, my child! ’

  His face took on a sober expression as he turned to face her.

  ‘Unfortunately, that is not the reason,’ he told her. ‘Humans are not permitted to enter Deva-lok any more. Not for the last 3,500 years has a member of the Sangha set foot in that world. Maharishi Tribhuvan was, as far as I know, the last to enter.’

  They had reached a small clearing in the forest, a few feet across, where the forest floor was covered with a thick carpet of lush green grass.

  ‘Let’s sit, shall we?’ he asked her and led the way into the clearing.

  Maya sat facing him and waited.

  ‘You had asked me for help in translating the verses in your father’s diary, remember?’

  Maya felt a thrill course through her at these words. Did the Mists of Brahma have something to do with Brahmabhasha? Was that why the Maharishi was telling her about them?

  ‘I strongly believe,’ Satyavachana continued, ‘that the key to deciphering the verses lies in the Mists of Brahma.’ He looked at her gravely.

  ‘And we’ll go into the Mists and find the key?’ Maya suggested tentatively.

  ‘Not “we”, Maya.’ Satyavachana fixed her with a serious gaze. ‘You will enter the Mists of Brahma and find the key. That is what I have been training you for all these months.’

  ‘But how will I manage?’ Maya wondered aloud. ‘I mean, you just said that only powerful Maharishis were allowed to enter the Mists. I am not even a Rishi!’

  Satyavachana shook his head. ‘No, you are not. But you have demonstrated over the last eight months that you have the capability and the strength to navigate the Mists. I always knew you could do it, but you have proven it. The test you underwent today was designed specifically to see if you could withstand entry into the Mists.’

  Maya thought back to her experience within the portal. Did she really want to go through something like that again?