The Oath of The Vayuputras (39 page)
‘Age of the Kshatriya? I’ve never heard of that.’
‘You would have heard of the four
yugs, cyclical eras
that time traverses repeatedly through a never-ending loop: the
Sat yug, Treta yug, Dwapar yug
and
Kali yug
.’
‘Yes.’
‘Within each of these yugs there are smaller cycles dominated by different caste-professions. There is the age of the Brahmin, of the Kshatriya, of the Vaishya and of the Shudra.’
‘Age of the Brahmin,
dada
? I haven’t heard of that either.’
‘Sure you have. All of us have been told stories of the Prajapati; of a time of magic.’
Kartik smiled. ‘Of course! Knowledge seems like magic to the ignorant.’
‘Yes. The main currency of the age of the Brahmin was knowledge. And in our age, it is violence. Some philosophers believe that after our epoch will be the age of the Vaishya.’
‘And the people in that age will not use violence to establish their writ?’
‘Violence will never die, Kartik. Neither will knowledge. But they will not be the determining factors, since it will be an age dominated by the way of the Vaishya, which is profit. They will use money.’
‘I can’t imagine a world like that,
dada
.’
‘It will come. I pray that it doesn’t take too long. Not that I’m afraid of violence, but it leaves too many grieving hearts in its wake.’
‘
Dada
, even if I do believe that such a time will come, are you saying that money will cause less devastation than violence? Will there not be winners and losers even then? Will sadness disappear?’
Ganesh raised his eyebrows, surprised. He smiled and patted his brother on his back. ‘You are right. There will always be winners and losers. For that is the way of the world.’
Kartik put his arm around his brother’s waist as Ganesh put his around Kartik’s shoulders. ‘But that still doesn’t take away from the grief of knowing that we have caused suffering to others.’
‘This may sound strange to you,’ said Shiva, reclining in the comfort of the Lothal governor’s residence. ‘But I feel as if I’ve come home. Meluha is where my journey began.’
Just as Kali had expected, the Lothal governor, Chenardhwaj, had broken ranks with the Meluhan nobility and opened the doors of his city for Shiva’s army, pledging loyalty to the Neelkanth.
‘And this is where it’ll end,’ said Sati. ‘Then we can all go and live in Kailash.’
Shiva smiled. ‘Kailash is not as idyllic as you imagine. It’s a difficult, barren land.’
‘But you will be there. That’ll make it heaven for me.’
Shiva laughed, bent forward and kissed his wife lovingly, holding her close.
‘But first, we need to deal with those who defend the evil Somras,’ said Sati.
‘That has already begun with the defeat of the Magadhans.’
‘Hmmm... that’s true, we can easily blockade the Ayodhyan navy, now that Magadh is firmly in our control. When will Ganesh and Kartik leave for Meluha?’
‘They have left already.’
‘And when do we leave for Mrittikavati?’
‘In a few days.’
Sati had learnt to recognise the resolute expression Shiva now wore and couldn’t help feeling a twinge of anxiety for her homeland. ‘For their own sake, I hope they surrender.’
‘I hope so too.’
‘By the great Lord Brahma!’ growled Bhrigu.
Bhrigu had finally reached Devagiri. He had been delayed on the recently-built road between Dharmakhet in Swadweep and Meluha, by the floodwaters of an overflowing Yamuna, which had submerged the pathway. While he was stuck in this no-man’s land between the Chandravanshi and Suryavanshi empires, Bhrigu availed of the facilities of the traveller’s guesthouse, built by the Meluhans alongside the road. Not that its comforts calmed him though, for he needed to be in Devagiri. What did alleviate his stress was the arrival of Parvateshwar, along with Anandmayi. They travelled together from there onwards, and Bhrigu used this opportunity to discuss battle strategy with him. The flooding of the Yamuna had transformed what should have been a quick journey of a few weeks, into many months.
Bhrigu, Daksha, Parvateshwar and Kanakhala conferred in the private royal office of Devagiri, examining the ramifications of the Neelkanth’s proclamation.
‘May I see the notice, Maharishi
ji
?’ asked Parvateshwar.
Bhrigu handed over the stone tablet and then turned to Daksha and Kanakhala. ‘When were they put up?’
‘A few months ago, My Lord,’ said Daksha.
‘At all major temples in practically every city within the Empire,’ added Kanakhala.
‘And was this a simultaneous event, orchestrated on the same day?’ asked Parvateshwar, obviously impressed by the logistical feat.
‘Yes,’ said Kanakhala. ‘Only the Neelkanth could have organised this. But why would he do it? He loves Meluha and we worship him. We therefore assumed that it had to be someone else who was trying to slander the reputation of our Lord. Sadly, we still haven’t made any headway in our investigation and do not know who the real perpetrators are.’
‘Do you have traitors in your administration, Your Highness?’ asked Bhrigu.
Daksha bristled, but did not dare make his anger apparent. ‘Certainly not, My Lord. You can trust the Meluhans like you trust me.’
Bhrigu’s ironic smile did not leave much to the imagination. ‘What do you make of it, Lord Parvateshwar?’
‘I would have expected nothing less from the Neelkanth,’ said Parvateshwar.
Kanakhala was stunned by this revelation, but prudently chose silence.
‘But I must tell you that we responded well, My Lord,’ said Daksha to Bhrigu. ‘They were removed within a few days and were replaced with official notices stating that the earlier ones had been put up by a fraud and should not be believed.’
Kanakhala reeled from shock. She had inadvertently sinned when she put up the new notices that Daksha had asked her to, and become party to a lie. She considered resigning from her position. However, it was obvious that a war was imminent. And her war-time duties were clear: complete and unquestioning loyalty to the king and country. She had never faced a situation where her duties stood in direct conflict with her dharma. The confusion was bewildering.
‘So you see, My Lord, this particular problem has been handled,’ said Daksha. ‘We need to now focus on how to repel Shiva’s forces.’
Bhrigu gestured towards Daksha. ‘Not now, Your Highness. Let me first confer with General Parvateshwar in private.’
Kanakhala was still lost in the turmoil within her conscience, and did not notice the exchange.
‘The proclamation was made by the Lord Neelkanth. How can we go against his word? This is wrong. If the Lord says that the Somras is not to be used, then I don’t see how we can go against this diktat.’
Parvateshwar had accompanied Kanakhala to her office after the meeting. He could tell that she was very disturbed by the events of the morning.
‘I’ve already stopped using the Somras, Kanakhala.’
‘As will I, from this instant. But that is not what troubles me. The Neelkanth wants the whole of Meluha to stop using the Somras. And the consequences of ignoring his decision are very clear from his message: if we don’t, then we become his enemies.’
‘I’m aware of that. For all practical purposes, war has already been declared. His army is mobilising even as we speak.’
‘Meluha must stop using the Somras.’
‘Does the law allow either you or me to pass an order banning the Somras?’
‘No, only the Emperor can do that.’
‘And he hasn’t, has he? Also, the Emperor’s orders are unquestionable in times of war.’
‘Can’t we avoid a war in some way? Why don’t you speak to Maharishi Bhrigu? He respects you.’
‘The Maharishi is not convinced that the Somras has turned evil.’
‘Then we should approach the people directly.’
‘Kanakhala, you know better than that. It would mean breaking your oath as prime minister, since you would be directly going against the order of your Emperor.’
‘But why should I follow his orders? He made me lie to our own people!’
‘I assure you that nothing like that will happen again for as long as I’m alive and in Meluha.’
Kanakhala looked away as she struggled to get a grip over her raging emotions.
‘Kanakhala, let’s say we do approach the Meluhans directly,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘We will have to convince our countrymen to voluntarily choose to end their life much before it normally would have. And we will have nothing to give them in return. Convincing people to do this is not an easy task, even with those as duty-bound and honourable as the Meluhans. It will take time. The Neelkanth, however, is not patient when it comes to the Somras. He wants its use to end right now. The only way he can do that is to attack the epicentre.’
‘Which is Meluha...’
‘Exactly. Right now our task is to protect our country. You know Lord Ram’s laws state very clearly that our primary duty is towards our country. He had said that even if it comes to choosing between Lord Ram and Meluha, we should choose Meluha.’
‘Who would have imagined that it would
actually
come down to such a choice, Parvateshwar? That we would need to choose between our God and our country?’
Parvateshwar smiled sadly. ‘My duty to my country is above all others, Kanakhala.’
Kanakhala ran her hand over her bald pate and touched the knotted tuft of hair at the back of her head, trying to draw strength from it. ‘What kind of challenge is fate throwing at us?’
‘It’s a stupid idea, Your Highness,’ said Bhrigu. ‘Your problem is that you do not look beyond the next three months when you dream up your strategies.’
Daksha had been sitting expectantly at the maharishi’s feet, eagerly awaiting his response. For he had just unfolded to Bhrigu his ‘brilliant’ scheme to avoid the war altogether.
An unmoved Bhrigu then leaned towards him from his stone bed. ‘We’re not fighting with the Neelkanth, but the devotion that he inspires in your people. Making him a martyr will turn your people against you, and inevitably, the Somras.’
Daksha expressed acknowledgement. ‘You’re right, My Lord. Had we succeeded in killing him in Panchavati, the people would have blamed the Nagas. That failure was most unfortunate.’