Chenardhwaj, the governor of Kashmir, wanted to broadcast to the entire
world that the Neelkanth had appeared in his capital city. Not in the other
frontier towns like Takshashila, Karachapa or Lothal. His Srinagar! But the
bird courier had arrived almost immediately from the Meluhan capital
Devagiri, the abode of the gods. The orders were crystal clear. The news of
the arrival of the Neelkanth had to be kept secret until the emperor himself
had seen Shiva. Chenardhwaj was ordered to send Shiva along with an
escort to Devagiri. Most importantly, Shiva himself was not to be told about
the legend. 'The emperor will advise the supposed Neelkanth in an
appropriate manner,' were the exact words in the message.
Chenardhwaj had the privilege of informing Shiva about the journey.
Shiva though, was not in the most amenable of moods. He was utterly
perplexed by the sudden devotion of every Meluhan around him. Since he
had been transferred to the gubernatorial residence where he lived in luxury,
only the most important citizens of Srinagar had access to him.
'My Lord, we will be escorting you to Devagiri, our capital. It is a few
weeks' journey from here,' said Chenardhwaj as he struggled to bend his
enormous and muscular frame lower than he ever had.
'I'm not going anywhere till somebody tells me what is going on! What
the hell is this damned legend of the Neelkanth?' Shiva asked angrily.
'My Lord, please have faith in us. You will know the truth soon. The
emperor himself will tell you when you reach Devagiri.'
'And what about my tribe?'
'They will be given lands right here in Kashmir, my Lord. All the
resources that they need in order to lead a comfortable life will be provided
for.'
'Are they being held hostage?'
'Oh no, my Lord,' said a visibly disturbed Chenardhwaj. 'They are your
tribe, my Lord. If I had my way, they would live like nobility for the rest of
thqqq1eir lives. But the laws cannot be broken, my Lord. Not even for you. We
can only give them what had been promised. In the course of time my Lord,
you can change the laws you deem necessary. Then we could certainly
accommodate them anywhere.'
'Please, my Lord,' pleaded Nandi. 'Have faith in us. You cannot imagine
how important you are to Meluha. We have been waiting for a very long
time for you. We need your help.'
Please help me! Please!
The memory of another desperate plea from a distraught woman years ago
returned to haunt Shiva as he was stunned into silence.
'Your destiny is much larger than these massive mountains.'
Nonsense! I don't deserve any destiny. If these people knew of my guilt,
they would stop this bullshit instantly!
'I don't know what to do, Bhadra.'
Shiva was sitting in the royal gardens on the banks of the Dal Lake while
his friend sat by his side, carefully filling some marijuana into a chillum. As
Bhadra used the lit stick to bring the chillum to life, Shiva said impatiently,
'That's a cue for you to speak, you fool.'
'No. That's actually a cue for me to hand you the chillum, Shiva.'
'Why will you not counsel me?' asked Shiva in anguish. 'We are still the
same friends who never made a move without consulting each other!'
Bhadra smiled. 'No we are not. You are the Chief now. The tribe lives and
dies by your decisions. It cannot be corrupted by any other person's
influence. We are not like the Pakratis, where the Chief has to listen to
whoever is the loudmouth in their counsel. Only the chief's wisdom is
supreme amongst the Gunas. That is our tradition.'
Shiva raised his eyes in exasperation. 'Some traditions are meant to be
broken!'
Bhadra stayed silent. Stretching his hand, Shiva grabbed the chillum from
Bhadra. He took one deep puff, letting the marijuana spread its munificence
into his body.
'I've heard just one line about the legend of the Neelkanth,' said Bhadra.
'Apparently Meluha is in deep trouble and only the Neelkanth can save
them.'
'But I can't seem to see any trouble out here. Everything seems perfect. If
they want to see real trouble we should take them to our land!'
Bhadra laughed slightly. 'But what is it about the blue throat that makes
them believe you can save them?'
'Damned if I know! They are so much more advanced than us. And yet
they worship me like I am some god. Just because of this blessed blue
throat.'
'I think their medicines are magical though. Have you noticed that the
hump on my back has reduced a little bit?'
'Yes it has! Their doctors are seriously gifted.'
'You know their doctors are called Brahmins?'
'Like Ayurvati?' asked Shiva, passing the chillum back to Bhadra.
'Yes. But the Brahmins don't just cure people. They are also teachers,
lawyers, priests, basically any intellectual profession.'
'Talented people,' sniffed Shiva.
'That's not all,' said Bhadra, in between a long inhalation. 'They have a
concept of specialisation. So in addition to the Brahmins, they have a group
called Kshatriyas, who are the warriors and rulers. Even the women can be
Kshatriyas!'
'Really? They allow women into their army?'
'Well, apparently there aren't too many female Kshatriyas. But yes, they
are allowed into the army.'
'No wonder they are in trouble!'
The friends laughed loudly at the strange ways of the Meluhans. Bhadra
took another puff from the chillum before continuing his story. 'And then
they have Vaishyas, who are craftsmen, traders and business people and
finally the Shudras who are the farmers and workers. And one caste cannot
do another caste's job.'
'Hang on,' said Shiva. 'That means that since you are a warrior, you
would not be allowed to trade at the marketplace?'
'Yes.'
'Bloody stupid! How would you get me my marijuana? After all that is the
only thing you are useful for!'
Shiva leaned back to avoid the playful blow from Bhadra. 'All right, all
right. Take it easy!' he laughed. Stretching out, he grabbed the chillum from
Bhadra and took another deep drag.
We're talking about everything except what we should be talking about.
Shiva became serious once again. 'But seriously, strange as they are, what
should I do?'
'What are you thinking of doing?'
Shiva looked away, as if contemplating the roses in the far corner of the
garden. 'I don't want to run away once again.'
'What?' asked Bhadra, not hearing Shiva's tormented whisper clearly.
'I said,' repeated Shiva loudly, 'I can't bear the guilt of running away once
again.'
'That wasn't your fault…'
'YES IT WAS!'
Bhadra fell silent. There was nothing that could be said. Covering his
eyes, Shiva sighed once again. 'Yes, it was…'
Bhadra put his hand on his friend's shoulder, pressing it gently, letting the
terrible moment pass. Shiva turned his face. 'I'm asking for advice, my
friend. What should I do? If they need my help, I can't turn away from
them. At the same time, how can I leave our tribe all by themselves out
here? What should I do?'
Bhadra continued to hold Shiva's shoulder. He breathed deeply. He could
think of an answer. It may have been the correct answer for Shiva, his
friend. But was it the correct answer for Shiva, the leader?
'You have to find that wisdom within yourself, Shiva. That is the
tradition.'
'O the hell with you!'
Shiva threw the chillum back at Bhadra and stormed away.
It was only a few days later that a minor caravan consisting of Shiva,
Nandi and three soldiers was scheduled to leave Srinagar. The small party
would ensure that they moved quickly through the realm and reached
Devagiri as soon as possible. Governor Chenardhwaj was anxious for Shiva
to be recognised quickly by the empire as the true Neelkanth. He wanted to
go down in history as the governor who had found the Lord.
Shiva had been made 'presentable' for the emperor. His hair had been
oiled and smoothened. Lines of expensive clothes, attractive ear-rings,
necklaces and other jewellery were used to adorn his muscular frame. His
fair face had been scrubbed clean with special Ayurvedic herbs to remove
years of dead skin and decay. A cravat had been fashioned of cotton to
cover his glowing blue throat. Beads, cleverly darned onto the fabric, gave it the appearance of the traditional necklace that Meluhan men sported
during times of ritual. The cravat felt warm around his still cold throat.
'I will be back soon,' said Shiva as he hugged Bhadra's mother. He was
amazed to see that the old lady's limp was a little less noticeable.
Their medicines are truly magical.
As a morose Bhadra looked at him, Shiva whispered, 'Take care of the
tribe. You are in charge till I come back.'
Bhadra stepped back, startled. 'Shiva you don't have to do that just
because I am your friend.'
'I have to do it, you fool. And the reason why I have to do it is that you are
more capable than I am.'
Bhadra stepped up and embraced Shiva, lest his friend notice the tears in
his eyes. 'No Shiva, I am not. Not even in my dreams.'
'Shut up! Listen to me carefully,' said Shiva as Bhadra smiled sadly. 'I
don't think the Gunas are at any risk here. At least not to the same extent as
we were at Mount Kailash. But even so, if you feel you need help, ask
Ayurvati. I observed her when the tribe was ill. She showed tremendous
commitment towards saving us all. She is trustworthy.'
Bhadra nodded, hugged Shiva once again and left the room.
Ayurvati knocked politely on the door. 'May I come in, my Lord?'
This was the first time that she had come into his presence since that
fateful moment seven days back. It seemed like a lifetime to her. Though
she appeared to be her confident self again, there was a slightly different
look about her. She had the appearance of someone who had been touched
by the divine.
'Come in Ayurvati. And please, none of this "Lord" business. I am still the
same uncouth immigrant you met a few days back.'
'I am sorry about that comment, my Lord. It was wrong of me to say that
and I am willing to accept any punishment that you may deem fit.'
'What's wrong with you? Why should I punish you for speaking the truth?
Why should this bloody blue throat change anything?'
'You will discover the reason soon enough, my Lord,' whispered Ayurvati
with her head bowed. 'We have waited for centuries for you.'
'Centuries?! In the name of the holy lake, why? What can I do that any
amongst you smart people can't?'
'The emperor will tell you, my Lord. Suffice it to say that after all that I
have heard from your tribe, if there is one person worthy of being the
Neelkanth, it is you.'
'Speaking of my tribe, I have told them that if they need any help, they
can turn to you. I hope that is all right.'
'It would be my honour to provide any assistance to them, my Lord.'
Saying this, she bent down to touch Shiva's feet in the traditional Indian
form of showing respect. Shiva had resigned himself to accepting this
gesture from most Meluhans but immediately stepped back as Ayurvati bent
down.
'What the hell are you doing, Ayurvati?' asked a horrified Shiva. 'You are
a doctor, a giver of life. Don't embarrass me by touching my feet.'
Ayurvati looked up at Shiva, her eyes shining with admiration and
devotion. This was certainly a man worthy of being the Neelkanth.
Nandi entered Shiva's room carrying a saffron cloth with the word 'Ram'
stamped across every inch of it. He requested Shiva to wrap it around his
shoulders. As Shiva complied, Nandi muttered a quick short prayer for a
safe journey to Devagiri.
'Our horses wait outside, my Lord. We can leave when you are ready,'
said Nandi.
'Nandi,' said an exasperated Shiva. 'How many times must I tell you? My
name is Shiva. I am your friend, not your Lord'
'Oh no, my Lord,' gasped Nandi. 'You are the Neelkanth. You are the
Lord. How can I take your name?'
Shiva rolled his eyes, shook his head slightly and turned towards the door.
'I give up! Can we leave now?'
'Of course, my Lord.'
They stepped outside to see three mounted soldiers waiting patiently,
while tethered close to them were three more horses. One each for Shiva
and Nandi, while the third was assigned for carrying their provisions. The
well-organised Meluhan Empire had rest houses and provision stores spread
across all major travel routes. As long as there were enough provisions for
one day, a traveller carrying Meluhan coins could comfortably keep buying
fresh provisions that would last a journey of months.
Nandi's horse had been tethered next to a small platform. The platform
had steps leading up to it from the other side. Clearly, this was convenient infrastructure for obese riders who found it a little cumbersome to climb
onto a horse. Shiva looked at Nandi's enormous form, then at his
unfortunate horse and then back at Nandi.
'Aren't there any laws in Meluha against cruelty to animals?' asked Shiva
with the most sincere of expressions.
'Oh yes, my Lord. Very strict laws. In Meluha ALL life is precious. In fact
there are strict guidelines as to when and how animals can be slaughtered
and…'
Suddenly Nandi stopped speaking. Shiva's joke had finally breached
Nandi's slow wit. They both burst out laughing as Shiva slapped Nandi hard
on his back.
Shiva's entourage followed the course of the Jhelum which had resumed
its thunderous roar as it crashed down the lower Himalayas. Once on the
magnificent flat plains, the turbulent river calmed down again and flowed
smoothly on. Smooth enough for the group to board one of the many public
transport barges and sail quickly down to the town of Brihateshpuram.
From there on, they went eastwards down a well marked road through
Punjab, the heart of the empire's northern reaches. Punjab literally meant
the land of the five rivers. The land of the Indus, Jhelum, Chenab, Ravi and
Beas. The four eastern rivers aspired to grasp the grand Indus, which
flowed farthest to the west. They succeeded spectacularly, after convoluted
journeys through the rich plains of Punjab. The Indus itself found comfort
and succour in the enormous, all embracing ocean. The mystery of the
ocean's final destination though was yet to be unravelled.
'What is Ram?' enquired Shiva as he looked down at the word covering
every inch of his saffron cloth.
The three accompanying soldiers rode at a polite distance behind Shiva
and Nandi. Far enough not to overhear any conversation but close enough
to move in quickly at the first sign of trouble. It was a part of their standard
Meluhan service rules.
'Lord Ram was the emperor who established our way of life, my Lord,'
replied Nandi. 'He lived around one thousand two hundred years ago. He
created our systems, our rules, our ideologies, everything. His reign is
known simply as 'Ram Rajya' or 'the rule of Ram'. The term 'Ram Rajya'
is considered the gold standard in how an empire must be administered, in order to create a perfect life for all its citizens. Meluha is still governed in
accordance with his principles. Jai Shri Ram.'
'He must have been quite a man! For he truly created a paradise right here
on earth.'
Shiva did not lie when he said this. He truly believed that if there was a
paradise somewhere, it couldn't have been very different from Meluha. This
was a land of abundance, of almost ethereal perfection! It was an empire
ruled by clearly codified and just laws, to which every Meluhan was
subordinated, including the emperor. The country supported a population of
nearly eight million, which without exception seemed well fed, healthy and
wealthy. The average intellect was exceptionally high. They were a slightly
serious people, but unfailingly polite and civil. It seemed to be a flawless
society where everyone was aware of his role and played it perfectly. They
were conscious, nay obsessive, about their duties. The simple truth hit
Shiva: if the entire society was conscious of its duties, nobody would need
to fight for their individual rights. Since everybody's rights would be
automatically taken care of through someone else's duties. Lord Ram was a
genius!
Shiva too repeated Nandi's cry, signifying Glory to Lord Ram. 'Jai Shri
Ram.'
Having left their horses at the government authorised crossing-house, they
crossed the river Ravi, close to Hariyupa, or the City of Hari. Shiva
lingered for sometime as he admired Hariyupa from a slight distance, while
his soldiers waited just beyond his shadow, having mounted their freshly
allocated horses from the crossing-house on the other side of the Ravi.
Hariyupa was a much larger city than Srinagar and seemed grand from the
outside. Shiva considered exploring the magnificent city but that would
have meant a delay in the trip to Devagiri. Next to Hariyupa, Shiva saw a
construction project being executed. A new platform was being erected as
Hariyupa had grown too populous to accommodate everyone on its existing
platform.
How the hell do they raise these magnificent platforms?
Shiva made a mental note to visit the construction site on his return
journey. At a distance, Jattaa, the Captain of the river crossing house, was
talking to Nandi as he climbed the platform to mount his fresh horse.
'Avoid the road via Jratakgiri,' advised Jattaa. 'They suffered a terrorist
attack last night. All the Brahmins were killed and the village temple was
destroyed. The terrorists escaped as usual before any backup soldiers could
arrive.'
'When in Lord Agni's name will we fight back? We should attack their
country!' snarled a visibly angry Nandi.
'I swear by Lord Indra, if I ever find one of these Chandravanshi terrorists,
I will cut his body into minute pieces and feed it to the dogs,' growled
Jattaa, clenching his fists tight.
'Jattaa! We are followers of the Suryavanshis. We cannot even think of
barbaric warfare such as that!' said Nandi.
'Do the terrorists follow the rules of war when they attack us? Don't they
kill unarmed men?'
'That does not mean that we can act in the same way, Captain. We are
Meluhans!' said Nandi shaking his head.
Jattaa did not counter Nandi. He was distracted by Shiva who was still
waiting at a distance. 'Is he with you?' he asked.
'Yes.'
'He doesn't wear a caste amulet. Is he a new immigrant?'
'Yes.' replied Nandi, growing uncomfortable with the questions about
Shiva.
'And you're going to Devagiri?' asked an increasingly suspicious Jattaa,
looking harder towards Shiva's throat. 'I've heard some rumours coming
from Srinagar…'
Nandi interrupted Jattaa suddenly. 'Thank you for your help, Captain
Jattaa.'
Before Jattaa could act on his suspicions, Nandi quickly climbed the
platform, mounted his horse and rode towards Shiva. Reaching quickly, he
said, 'We should leave, my Lord.'
Shiva wasn't listening. He was perplexed once again as he saw the proud
Captain Jattaa on his knees. Jattaa was looking directly at Shiva with his
hands folded in a respectful Namaste. He appeared to be mumbling
something very quickly. Shiva couldn't be sure from that distance, but it
seemed as if the Captain was crying. He shook his head and whispered,
'Why?'
'We should go, my Lord,' repeated Nandi, a little louder.
Shiva turned to him, nodded and kicked his horse into action.
Shiva looked towards his left as he rode upon the straight road, observing
Nandi goading his valiant horse along. He turned around and was not
surprised to see his three bodyguard soldiers riding at exactly the same
distance as before. Not too close, and yet, not too far. His glance also took
in Nandi's jewellery which he suspected were not merely ornamental. He
wore two amulets on his thick right arm. The first one had some symbolic
lines which Shiva could not fathom. The second one appeared to have an
animal etching. Probably a bull. One of his gold chains had a pendant
shaped like a perfectly circular sun with rays streaming outwards. The other
pendant was a brown, elliptical seed-like object with small serrations all
over it.
'Can you tell me the significance of your jewellery or is that also a state
secret?' teased Shiva.
'Of course I can, my Lord,' replied Nandi earnestly. He pointed at the first
amulet that had been tied around his massive arm with a silky gold thread.
'This is the amulet which represents my caste. The lines drawn on it
symbolise the shoulders of the Parmatma, the almighty. This means that I
am a Kshatriya.'
'I am sure there are clearly codified guidelines for representing the other
castes as well.'
'Right you are, my Lord. You are exceptionally intelligent.'
'No, I am not. You people are just exceptionally predictable.'
Nandi smiled as Shiva continued. 'So what are they?'
'What are what, my Lord?'
'The symbols for the Brahmins, Vaishyas and Shudras.'
'Well, if the lines are drawn to represent the head of the Parmatma, it
would mean the wearer is a Brahmin. The symbol for a Vaishya would be
the lines forming a symbol of the thighs of the Parmatma. And the feet of
the Parmatma on the amulet would make the wearer a Shudra.'
'Interesting,' said Shiva with a slight frown. 'I imagine most Shudras are
not too pleased about their placement.'
Nandi was quite surprised by Shiva's comments. He couldn't understand
why a Shudra would have a problem with this long ordained symbol. But he
kept quiet for fear of disagreeing with his Lord.
'And the other amulet?' asked Shiva.
'This second amulet depicts my chosen-tribe. Each chosen-tribe takes on
obs which fit its profile. Every Meluhan, in consultation with his parents,
applies for a chosen-tribe when he turns twenty-five years old. Brahmins
choose from birds, while Kshatriyas apply for animals. Flowers are
allocated to Vaishyas while Shudras must choose from amongst fish. The
Allocation Board allocates the chosen-tribe on the basis of a rigorous
examination process. You must qualify for a chosen-tribe that represents
both your ambitions and skills. Choose a tribe that is too mighty and you
will embarrass yourself throughout your life if your achievements don't
measure up to the standards of that tribe. Choose a tribe too lowly and you
will not be doing justice to your own talents. My chosen-tribe is a bull. That
is the animal that this amulet represents.'
'And if I am not being rude, what does a bull mean in your rank of
Kshatriya chosen-tribes?'
'Well, it's not as high as a lion, tiger or an elephant. But it's not a rat or a
pig either!'
'Well, as far as I am concerned, the bull can beat any lion or elephant,'
smiled Shiva. 'And what about the pendants on your chain?'
'The brown seed is a representation of the last Mahadev, Lord Rudra. It
symbolises the protection and regeneration of life. Even divine weapons
cannot destroy the life it protects.'
'And the Sun?'
'My Lord, the sun represents the fact that I am a follower of the
Suryavanshi kings — the kings who are the descendants of the Sun.'
'What? The Sun came down and some queen…' teased an incredulous
Shiva.
'Of course not, my Lord,' laughed Nandi. 'All it means is that we follow
the solar calendar. So you could say that we are the followers of the "path
of the sun". In practical terms it denotes that we are strong and steadfast.
We honour our word and keep our promises even at the cost of our lives.
We never break the law. We deal honourably even with those who are
dishonourable. Like the Sun, we never take from anyone but always give to
others. We sear our duties into our consciousness so that we may never
forget them. Being a Suryavanshi means that we must always strive to be
honest, brave and above all, loyal to the truth.'
'A tall order! I assume that Lord Ram was a Suryavanshi king?'
'Yes, of course,' replied Nandi, his chest puffed up with pride. 'He was the
Suryavanshi king. Jai Shri Ram.'
'Jai Shri Ram,' repeated Shiva.
Nandi and Shiva crossed the river Beas on a boat. Their soldiers waited
for the following craft. The Beas was the last river to be crossed after which
the straight road stretched towards Devagiri. Unseasonal rain the previous
night had made the crossing-house Captain consider cancelling the day's
crossings across the river. However the weather had been relatively calm
since the morning, allowing the Captain to keep the service operational.
Shiva and Nandi shared the boat with two other passengers as well as the
boatman who rowed them across. They had traded in their existing horses at
the crossing-house for fresh horses on the other side.
They were a short distance from the opposite bank when a sudden burst of
torrential rain came down from the heavens. The winds took on a sudden
ferocity. The boatman made a valiant effort to row quickly across, but the
boat tossed violently as it surrendered to the elements. Nandi stretched
towards Shiva in order to tell him to stay low for safety. But he did not do it
gently enough. His considerable weight caused the boat to list dangerously,
and he fell overboard.
The boatman tried to steady the boat with his oars so he could save the
other passengers. Even as he did so, he had the presence of mind to pull out
his conch and blow an emergency call to the crossing-house on the other
side. The other two passengers should have jumped overboard to save
Nandi but his massive build made them hesitate. They knew that if they
tried to save him, they would most likely drown.
Shiva felt no such hesitation as he quickly tossed aside his angvastram,
pulled off his shoes and dived into the turbulent river. Shiva swam with
powerful strokes and quickly reached a rapidly drowning Nandi. He had to
use all of his considerable strength to pull Nandi to the surface. In spite of
being buoyed by the water, Nandi weighed significantly more than what
any normal man would. It was fortunate that Shiva felt stronger than ever
since the first night at the Srinagar immigration camp. Shiva positioned
himself behind Nandi and wrapped one arm around his chest. He used his
other arm to swim towards the bank. Nandi's weight made it very
exhausting work, but Shiva was able to tow the Meluhan Captain to the
shore, just as the emergency staff from the crossing-house came rapidly towards them. Shiva helped them drag Nandi's limp body on to the land. He
was unconscious.
The emergency staff then began a strange procedure. One of them started
pressing Nandi's chest in a quick rhythmic motion to the count of five. Just
as he would stop, another emergency staff would cover Nandi's lips with
his own and breathe hard into his mouth. After which, they would repeat the
procedure all over again. Shiva did not understand what was going on but
trusted both the expertise as well as the commitment of the Meluhan
medical personnel.
After several anxious moments, Nandi suddenly coughed up a
considerable amount of water and woke up with a start. At first he was
disoriented but he quickly regained his wits and turned abruptly towards
Shiva, screeching, 'My Lord, why did you jump in after me? Your life is too
precious. You must never risk it for me!'
A surprised Shiva supported Nandi's back and whispered calmly, 'You
need to relax, my friend.'
Agreeing with Shiva, the medical staff quickly placed Nandi on a stretcher
and carried him into the rest house abutting the crossing-house. The other
boat passengers were observing Shiva with increasing curiosity. They knew
that the fat man was a relatively senior Suryavanshi soldier, judging by his
amulets. Yet he called this fair, caste-unmarked man 'his Lord'. Strange.
However, all that mattered was that the soldier was safe. They dispersed as
Shiva followed the medical staff into the rest house.