Nandi lay semi-conscious for several hours as the medicines administered
by the doctors worked on his body. Shiva sat by his side, repeatedly
changing the wet cloth on his burning forehead to control the fever. Nandi
kept babbling incoherently as he tossed and turned in his sleep, making
Shiva's task that much more difficult.
'I've been searching… long…so long… a hundred years… never thought
I…. find Neelkanth… Jai Shri Ram…'
Shiva ignored Nandi's babble as he tried to keep the fever down. But his
ears had caught on to something.
He's been searching for a hundred years?!
Shiva frowned.
The fever's affecting his bloody brain! He doesn't look a day older than
twenty years!
'I've been searching for a hundred years…,' continued the oblivious
Nandi. '…I found… Neelkanth…'
Shiva stopped for a moment and stared hard at Nandi. Then shaking his
head dismissively, he continued his ministrations.
Shiva had been walking on a paved, signposted road along the River Beas
for the better part of an hour. He had left the rest house to explore the area
by himself, much against a rapidly recovering Nandi's advice. Nandi was
out of danger, but they had been advised to wait for a few days
nevertheless, so that the Captain could be strong enough to travel. There
was not much for Shiva to do at the rest house and he had begun to feel
restless. The three soldiers had tried to shadow Shiva, but he had angrily
dismissed them. 'Will you please stop trying to stick to me like leeches?'
The rhythmic hymns sung by the gentle waters of the Beas soothed Shiva.
A cool tender breeze teased his thick lock of hair. He rested his hand on the
hilt of his scabbard as his mind swirled with persistent questions.
Is Nandi really more than a hundred years old? But that's impossible! And
what the hell do these crazy Meluhans need me for anyway? And why in the
name of the holy lake is my bloody throat still feeling so cold?
Lost in his thoughts, Shiva did not realise that he had strayed off the road
into a clearing, where, staring him in the face was the most beautiful
building he had ever seen. It was built entirely of white and pink marble.
An imposing flight of stairs led up to the top of a high platform, which had
been adorned by pillars around its entire circumference. The ornate roof
was topped by a giant triangular spire, like a giant 'Namaste' to the gods.
Elaborate sculptures were carved upon every available space on the
structure.
Shiva had been in Meluha for many days now and all the buildings he had
seen so far were functional and efficient. However, this particular one was
oddly flamboyant. At the entrance, a signpost announced, 'Temple of Lord
Brahma'. The Meluhans appeared to reserve their creativity for religious
places.
There was a small crowd of hawkers around the courtyard in the clearing.
Some were selling flowers, others were selling food. Still others were
selling assorted items required for a puja. There was a stall where
worshippers could leave their footwear as they went up to the temple. Shiva
left his shoes there and walked up the steps. As he entered the main temple
he found himself staring at the designs and sculptures, mesmerized by the
sheer magnificence of the architecture.
'What are you doing here?'
Shiva turned around to find a Pandit staring at him quizzically. His
wizened face sported a flowing white beard matched in length by his silvery
mane. Wearing a saffron dhoti and angvastram, he had the calm, gentle look
of a man who had already attained nirvana, but had chosen to remain on
earth to fulfil some heavenly duties. Shiva realised that the Pandit was the
first truly old person that he had seen in Meluha.
'I am sorry. Am I not allowed in here?' asked Shiva politely.
'Of course you are allowed in here. Everyone is allowed into the house of
the gods.'
Shiva smiled. However, before he could respond the Pandit questioned
him once again, 'But you don't believe in these gods, do you?'
Shiva's smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
How the hell does he know?
The Pandit answered the question posed by Shiva's eyes. 'Everyone who
enters this place of worship has eyes only for the idol of Lord Brahma.
Almost nobody notices the brilliance of the architects who built this lovely
temple. You, however, have eyes only for the work of the architects. You
have not yet cast even a glance upon the idol.'
Shiva grinned apologetically. 'You guessed right. I don't believe in
symbolic gods. I believe that god exists all around us. In the flow of the
river, in the rustle of the trees, in the whisper of the winds. He speaks to us
all the time. All we need to do is listen. However, I apologise if I have
caused some offence by not being respectful towards your god.'
'You don't need to apologise, my friend,' smiled the Pandit. 'There is no
"your god" or "my god". All godliness comes from the same source. It's
just the manifestations that are different. But I have a feeling that one day
you will find a temple worth walking into purely for prayer and not its
beauty.'
'Really? Which temple might that be?'
'You will find it when you are ready, my friend.'
Why do these Meluhans always talk in bizarre riddles?
Shiva nodded politely, his expression suggesting an appreciation for the
Pandit's words that he did not truly feel. He thought it wise to flee the
temple before he outlived his welcome.
'I should be getting back to my rest house now, Panditji. But I eagerly
look forward to finding the temple of my destiny. It was a pleasure meeting
you,' said Shiva, as he bent down to touch the Pandit's feet.
Placing his hand on Shiva's head, the Pandit said gently, 'Jai Guru
Vishwamitra. Jai Guru Vashishtha.'
Shiva rose, turned and walked down the steps. Looking at Shiva walking
away from him, clearly out of earshot, the Pandit whispered with an
admiring smile, for he had recognised his fellow traveller in karma. 'The
pleasure was all mine, my karmasaathi.'
Shiva reached the shoe stall, put on his shoes and offered a coin for the
service. The shoe-keeper politely declined. 'Thank you Sir, but this is a
service provided by the government of Meluha. There is no charge for it.'
Shiva smiled. 'Of course! You people have a system for everything. Thank
you.'
The shoe-keeper smiled back. 'We are only doing our duty, Sir.'
Shiva walked back to the temple steps. As he sat down, he breathed in
deeply and let the tranquil atmosphere suffuse him with its serenity. And
then it happened. The moment that every unrealised heart craves for. The
unforgettable instant that a soul, clinging on to the purest memory of its
previous life, longs for. The moment which, in spite of a conspiracy of the
gods, only a few lucky men experience. The moment when she enters his
life.
She rode in on a chariot, guiding the horses expertly into the courtyard,
while a lady companion by her side held on to the railings. Although her
black hair was tied in an understated bun, a few irreverent strands danced a
spellbinding kathak in the wind. Her piercingly magnetic, blue eyes and
bronzed skin were an invitation for jealousy from the goddesses. Her body,
though covered demurely in a long angvastram, still ignited Shiva's
imagination into sensing the lovely curves which lay beneath. Her flawless
face was a picture of concentration as she manoeuvred the chariot skilfully
into its parking place. She dismounted the chariot with an air of confidence.
It was a calm confidence which had not covered the ugly distance towards
arrogance. Her walk was dignified. Stately enough to let a beholder know
that she was detached, but not cold. Shiva stared at her like a parched piece
of earth mesmerised by a passing rain cloud.
Have mercy on me!
'My lady, I still feel that it's not wise to wander so far from the rest of
your entourage,' said her companion.
She answered. 'Krittika, just because others don't know the law, doesn't
mean that we can ignore it. Lord Ram clearly stated that once a year, a
pious woman has to visit Lord Brahma. I will not break that law, no matter
how inconvenient it is to the bodyguards!'
The lady noticed Shiva staring at her as she passed by. Her delicate
eyebrows arched into a surprised look and then an annoyed frown. Shiva
made a valiant attempt to tear his glance away, but realised that his eyes
were no longer in his control. She continued walking up, followed by
Krittika.
She turned around at the top of the temple steps, to see the caste unmarked
immigrant at a distance, still staring at her unabashedly. Before turning and walking into the main temple, she muttered to Krittika, 'These uncouth
immigrants! As if we'll find our saviour from amongst these barbarians!'
It was only when she was out of sight that Shiva could breathe again. As
he desperately tried to gather his wits, his overwhelmed and helpless mind
took one obvious decision — there was no way he was leaving the temple
before getting another look at her. He sat down on the steps once again. As
his breathing and heartbeat returned to normal, he finally began to notice
the surroundings that had been consecrated by her recent presence. He
stared once again at the road on the left from where she had turned in. She
had ridden past the cucumber seller standing near the banyan tree.
Incidentally, why is the cucumber seller not trying to hawk his wares? He
just seems to be staring at the temple. Anyway, it is not any of my business.
He followed the path that her chariot had taken as it had swerved to its
left, around the fountain at the centre of the courtyard. It had then taken a
sharp right turn past the shepherd standing at the entrance of the garden.
But where were this shepherd's sheep?
Shiva continued to look down the path that the chariot had taken to the
parking lot. Next to the chariot stood another man who had just walked into
the temple complex, but had inexplicably not entered the temple itself. He
turned to the shepherd and appeared to nod slightly. Before Shiva could
piece together the information from his observation, he felt her presence
once again. He turned immediately to see her walking down the steps, with
Krittika silently behind. On still finding this rude, caste-unmarked,
obviously foreign man staring at her, she walked up to him and asked in a
firm but polite voice, 'Excuse me, is there a problem?'
'No. No. There's no problem. But I feel that I've seen you somewhere
before,' replied a flustered Shiva.
The lady was not sure how to respond to this. It was obviously a lie but the
voice was sincere. Before she could react, Krittika cut in rudely. 'Is that the
best line you can come up with?'
As Shiva was about to retort, he was alerted by a quick movement from
the cucumber seller. Shiva turned to see him pulling out a sword as he
tossed his shawl aside. The shepherd and the man next to the chariot also
stood poised in traditional fighter positions with their swords drawn. In a
flash Shiva drew his sword and stretched out his left hand protectively, to
pull the object of his fascination behind him. She however deftly side-
stepped his protective hand, reached into the folds of her angvastram and drew out her own sword. Surprised, Shiva flashed her a quick, admiring
smile. Her eyes flashed right back, acknowledging the unexpected yet
providential partnership.
She whispered under her breath to Krittika, 'Run back into the temple.
Stay there till this is over.'
Krittika protested. 'But my lady…'
'NOW!' she ordered.
Krittika turned and ran up the temple steps. Shiva and the lady stood back
to back in a standard defensive-partner position, covering all the directions
of any possible attack. The three attackers charged in. Two more jumped in
from behind the trees. Shiva raised his sword defensively just as the
shepherd came up close. Feigning a sideward movement to draw the
shepherd into an aggressive attack, Shiva dropped his sword low. He hoped
to tempt him to move in for a kill wound and in response, he would have
quickly raised his sword and dug it deep into the shepherd's heart.
The shepherd, however, moved unexpectedly. Instead of taking advantage
of Shiva's opening, he tried to strike Shiva's shoulder. Shiva quickly raised
his right arm and swung viciously, inflicting a deep wound across the
shepherd's torso. As the shepherd fell back, another attacker moved in from
the right. He swung from a distance. Not too smart a move, as it would
merely have inflicted a surface nick. Shiva stepped back to avoid the swing
and brought his sword down in a smooth action to dig deep into the
attacker's thigh. Screaming in agony, this attacker too fell back. As yet
another attacker joined in from the left, Shiva began to realise that this was
indeed a very strange assault.
The attackers seemed to know what they were doing. They seemed like
accomplished warriors. But they also seemed to be in a bizarre dance of
avoidance. They did not appear to want to kill but merely injure. It was due
to their circumspection that they were being beaten back easily. Shiva
parried another attack from the left and pushed his sword viciously into the
man's shoulder. The man screamed in pain as Shiva pushed him off the
blade with his left hand. Slowly, but surely, the attackers were being worn
out. They were suffering too many injuries to seriously carry on the assault
for long.
Suddenly a giant of a man ran in from behind the trees carrying swords in
both hands. The man was cloaked in a black hooded robe from head to toe
while his face was hidden behind a mask. The only visible parts of his body
were his large impassive almond-shaped eyes and strong fleshy hands. He
charged upon Shiva and the lady as he barked an order to his men. He was
too large to battle with agility. But his slow pace was compensated by his
unusually skilled arms. Shiva perceived from the corner of his eye that the
other attackers were picking up the injured and withdrawing. The hooded
figure was performing a brilliant rearguard action as his men retreated.
Shiva realised that the man's hood would impair his peripheral vision.
Here was a weakness that could be exploited. Moving to the left, Shiva
swung ferociously, hoping to peg him back so that the lady could finish the
job from the other side. But his opponent was up to the challenge. As he
stepped slightly back, he deflected Shiva's swing with a deft move of his
right hand. Shiva noticed a leather band on the hooded figure's right wrist.
It had a sharp symbol on it. Shiva swung his sword back but the hooded
figure moved aside effortlessly. He pushed back a brutal flanking attack
from the lady with his left hand. He was keeping just enough distance from
Shiva and the lady to defend himself while at the same time keeping them
engaged in combat.
All of a sudden the hooded figure disengaged from the battle and stepped
back. Even as he retreated, his swords continued to point menacingly at
Shiva and the lady. His men had disappeared into the trees. On reaching a
safe distance, he turned around and ran after his men. Shiva considered
chasing him but almost immediately decided against it. He might just rush
into an ambush.
Shiva turned to the lady warrior and inquired, 'Are you alright?'
'Yes I am,' she nodded before asking with a sombre expression. 'Are you
injured?'
'Nothing serious. I'll survive!' he grinned.
In the meantime, Krittika came running down the temple steps and asked
breathlessly, 'My lady. Are you alright?'
'Yes I am,' she answered. 'Thanks to this foreigner here.'
Krittika turned to Shiva and said, 'Thank you very much. You have helped
a very important woman.'
Shiva did not seem to be listening though. He continued to stare at
Krittika's mistress as if he were possessed. Krittika struggled to conceal a
smile.
The noble woman averted her eyes in embarrassment, but said politely, 'I
am sorry, but I am quite sure that we have not met earlier.'
'No it's not that,' said a smiling Shiva. 'It's just that in our society, women
don't fight. You don't wield your sword too badly for a woman.'
O hell! That came out all wrong.
'Excuse me?' she said, a slightly belligerent tone creeping into her voice,
clearly upset about the for-a-woman remark. 'You don't fight too badly
either for a barbarian.'
'Not too badly?! I'm an exceptional sword fighter! Do you want to try
me?'
O bloody hell! What am I saying? I'm not going to impress her like this!
Her expression resumed its detached, supercilious look once again. 'I have
no interest in duelling with you, foreigner.'
'No. No. Don't get me wrong. I don't want to duel with you. I just wanted
to tell you that I am quite good at sword-fighting. I am good at other things
as well. And it came out all wrong. I rather like the fact that you fought for
yourself. You are a very good swordsman. I mean a swordswoman. In fact,
you are quite a woman…,' bumbled Shiva, losing the filter of judgement,
exactly at the time when he needed it the most.
Krittika, with her head bowed, smiled at the increasingly appealing
exchange.
Her mistress, on the other hand, wanted to chastise the foreigner for his
highly inappropriate words. But he had saved her life. She was bound by
the Meluhan code of conduct. 'Thank you for your help, foreigner. I owe
you my life and you will not find me ungrateful. If you ever need my help,
do call on me.'
'Can I call on you even if I don't need your help?'
Shit! What am I saying?!
She glared at the caste-unmarked foreigner who clearly did not know his
place. With superhuman effort, she controlled herself, nodded politely and
said, 'Namaste.'
With that, the aristocratic woman turned around to leave. Krittika
continued to stare at Shiva with admiring eyes. However, on seeing her
mistress leaving, she too turned around hurriedly and followed.
'At least tell me your name,' said Shiva, walking to keep pace with her.
She turned around, staring even more gravely at Shiva.
'Look, how will I find you if I need your help?' asked Shiva sincerely.
Momentarily disarmed, she remained silent. The request seemed
reasonable. She turned towards Krittika and nodded. 'You can find us at Devagiri,' answered Krittika. 'Ask anyone in the city
for Lady Sati.'
'Sati…,' said Shiva, letting the ethereal name roll over his tongue. 'My
name is Shiva.'
'Namaste, Shiva. And I promise you, I will honour my word if you ever
need my help,' said Sati as she turned and climbed into her chariot,
followed by Krittika.
Expertly turning the chariot, Sati urged her horses into a smooth trot.
Without a backward look she sped away from the temple. Shiva kept staring
at the fast disappearing profile of the chariot. Once it was gone, he
continued to stare at the dust with intense jealousy. It had been fortunate
enough to have touched her.
I think I'm going to like this country.
For the first time in the journey, Shiva actually looked forward to reaching
the capital city of the Meluhans. He smiled and started towards the rest
house.
Have to get to Devagiri quickly.