Shiva strode towards the royal guest house with a leaden-footed Nandi
close behind, head bowed in self-recrimination. 'I wish to dine alone,' said
Shiva over his shoulder. All Nandi could muster was, 'I am so sorry, my
Lord.'
Shiva turned around to gaze at Nandi.
'You are right, my Lord. We were so lost in our own troubles and the
search for the Neelkanth that we didn't realise the unfairness of our actions
on immigrants. I misled you my Lord. I lied to you.'
Shiva didn't say anything. He continued to stare intensely into Nandi's
eyes.
'I am so sorry my Lord. I have failed you. I will accept whatever
punishment you give me.'
Shiva's lips broke into a very faint smile. He patted Nandi lightly on his
shoulders, signalling he had forgiven him. But his eyes delivered a clear
message. 'Never lie to me again, my friend.'
Nandi nodded and whispered, 'Never, my Lord. I am so sorry.'
'Forget it Nandi,' said Shiva, his smile a little broader now. 'It's in the
past.'
They turned and continued walking. Suddenly Shiva shook his head and
chuckled slightly. 'Strange people!'
'What is it, my Lord?' asked Nandi.
'Nothing really. I was just wondering at some of the interesting things
about your society.'
'Interesting, my Lord?' asked Nandi, feeling a little more confident now
that Shiva was speaking to him again.
'Well, some people in your country think that the mere existence of my
blue throat can help you achieve impossible tasks. Some people actually think that my name has suddenly become so holy that they can't even speak
it.'
Nandi smiled slightly.
'On the other hand,' continued Shiva, 'some people clearly think that I am
not required. In fact, they even think that my touching them is so polluting
that I need to get a shudhikaran done!'
'Shudhikaran? Why would you need that my Lord?' asked Nandi, a little
concerned.
Shiva weighed his words carefully. 'Well, I touched someone. And I was
told that I would need to undergo a shudhikaran.'
'What? Who did you touch my Lord? Was it a vikarma person?' asked a
troubled Nandi. 'Only the touch of a vikarma person would mean that you
would need to get a shudhikaran.'
Shiva's face abruptly changed colour. A veil lifted from his eyes. He
suddenly understood the significance of the events of the previous day. Her
hasty withdrawal at being touched. The shocked reactions from the Guruji
and Krittika.
'Go back to the guest house, Nandi. I will see you there,' said Shiva, as he
turned towards the guest house garden.
'My Lord, what happened?' asked Nandi, trying to keep pace with Shiva.
'Did you get the shudhikaran done or not?'
'Go to the guest house Nandi,' said Shiva walking rapidly away. 'I will
see you there.'
Shiva waited for the larger part of an hour. But it was in vain, for Sati did
not make an appearance. He sat on the bench by himself, cursing the
moment when that terrible thought had entered his mind.
How could I have even thought that Sati would find my touch polluting? I
am such a bloody idiot!
He replayed the moments of that fateful encounter in his mind and
analysed every facet of it.
'I would never be able to forgive myself if something were to happen to
you.'
What did she mean by that? Does she have feelings for me? Or is she just
an honourable woman who can't bear to be the cause of someone else's
misfortune? And why should she think of herself as inferior? This entire
concept of the vikarma is so damned ridiculous! Realising that she wasn't going to come, Shiva got up. He kicked the
bench hard, getting a painful reminder that his once numb toe had got its sensation back. Cursing out loud, he started walking back to the guest
house. As he passed the stage, he noticed that there was something lying on
the dance floor. He bent down and picked it up. It was her bead bracelet. He
had seen it on her right hand. The string did not seem broken.
Had she purposely dropped it here?
He smelt it. It had the fragrance of the holy lake on a sun-kissed evening.
He brought it delicately to his lips and kissed it gently. Smiling, he dropped
the bracelet into the pouch tied around his waist. He would come back from
Mount Mandar and meet her. He had to meet her. He would pursue her to
the end of the world if required. He would fight the entire human race to
have her. His journey in this life was incomplete without her. His heart
knew it. His soul knew it.
'How much farther, Madam Prime Minister?' asked Nandi, behaving like
an excited child.
A visit to the mythical Mount Mandar, the hub where the drink of the gods
was manufactured, was a rare honour for any Meluhan. Most Suryavanshis
considered Mount Mandar the soul of their empire. As long as it was safe,
so was the Somras.
'It's only been an hour since we left Devagiri, Captain,' said Kanakhala
smiling. 'It's a day's journey to Mount Mandar.'
'Actually the blinds on the carriage windows prevent me from judging the
angle of the sun and hence the passage of time. That's the reason why I was
asking.'
'The prahar lamp is right behind you, Captain. The blinds have been
drawn for your own protection.'
Shiva smiled at Kanakhala. He could understand that the blinds were not
for their protection, but for the safety of Mount Mandar. To keep its
location secret. Very few people knew of its exact location. An elite team of
soldiers called the Arishtanemi protected the road to Mount Mandar and the
travellers on it. Apart from the scientists of Mount Mandar, the Arishtanemi
soldiers or any other person authorised by the Emperor, nobody else was
allowed to go to the mountain or to even know its location. If the
Chandravanshi terrorists attacked Mount Mandar, all would be lost for
Meluha.
'Who would we be meeting there, Kanakhala?' asked Shiva.
'My Lord, we would be meeting Brahaspati. He is the Chief Scientist of
the empire. He leads the team of scientists who manufacture the Somras for
the entire country. Of course, they also conduct research in many other
fields. A bird courier has already been sent to him informing him of your
arrival. We will be meeting him tomorrow morning.'
Shiva nodded slightly, smiled at Kanakhala, and said, 'Thank you.'
As Nandi looked at the prahar lamp again, Shiva went back to his book. It
was an interesting manuscript about the terrible war that was fought many
thousands of years ago, between the Devas — the gods, and the Asuras —
the demons. An eternal struggle between opposites: good and evil. The
Devas, with the help of Lord Rudra, the Mahadev, the God of Gods, had
destroyed the Asuras and established righteousness in the world again.
'I hope you slept well, my Lord,' said Kanakhala as she welcomed Shiva
and Nandi into the chamber outside Brahaspati's office.
It was the beginning of the last hour of the first prahar. Days began early
at Mount Mandar.
'Yes, I did,' said Shiva. 'Though I could hear a strange rhythmic sound all
through the night.'
Kanakhala smiled but did not offer any explanation. She bowed her head
and opened the door to let Shiva into Brahaspati's office. Shiva walked in
followed by Kanakhala and Nandi. There were various strange instruments
spread throughout Brahaspati's large office, neatly organised on tables of
different heights. Palm leaf notes were placed alongside each of the
instruments where some experiments had clearly been conducted. The room
was in muted blue. A large picture window in the corner afforded a
breathtaking view of the dense forest at the foot of the mountain. Many
simple, low seats had been arranged together in a square in the centre of the
room. It was a frugal room, in line with a culture that celebrated simplicity
over ostentation at every turn.
Brahaspati was standing in the middle of the room, his hands folded in a
Namaste. Of medium height, much shorter than Shiva, his wheat-coloured
skin, deep set eyes and well-manicured beard gave Brahaspati a
distinguished appearance. Serene of expression and shaven of head, his
choti bespoke of Brahmanical learning. His body was slightly overweight.
His broad shoulders and barrel chest would have been markedly pronounced if they had been exercised a bit, but Brahaspati's body was a
vehicle for his intellect and not the temple that it is to a warrior or
Kshatriya. He wore a typical white cotton dhoti and an angvastram draped
loosely over his shoulders. He wore a janau tied from his left shoulder
down to the right side of his hips.
'How are you Kanakhala?' asked Brahaspati. 'It has been a long time.'
'Yes it has, Brahaspati,' said Kanakhala, greeting Brahaspati with a
Namaste and a low bow.
Shiva noticed that the second amulet on Brahaspati's arm showed him as a
swan. A very select chosen-tribe among Brahmins.
'This is Lord Shiva,' said Kanakhala, pointing towards Shiva.
'Just Shiva will do, thank you,' smiled Shiva, with a polite Namaste
towards Brahaspati.
'Alright then. Just Shiva it is. And, who might you be?' asked Brahaspati,
turning towards Nandi.
'This is Captain Nandi,' answered Kanakhala. 'Lord Shiva's aide.'
'A pleasure to meet you, Captain,' said Brahaspati, before turning back to
Shiva. 'I don't mean to sound rude Shiva. But would it be possible for me
to see your throat?'
Shiva nodded. As he took off his cravat, Brahaspati came forward to
examine the throat. His smile disappeared as he saw Shiva's throat radiating
a bright blue hue. Brahaspati was speechless for a few moments. Slowly
gathering his wits, he turned towards Kanakhala. 'This is not a fraud. The
colour comes from the inside. How is this possible? This means that…'
'Yes,' said Kanakhala softly, with a happiness that seemed to emanate
from deep inside. 'It means the Neelkanth has come. Our saviour has
come.'
'Well, I don't know about that,' said an embarrassed Shiva, retying the
cravat around his throat. 'But I will certainly try my best to help your
wonderful country. It is for this reason that I have come to you. Something
tells me that it is important for me to know how the Somras works.'
Brahaspati still seemed to be in a daze. He continued to watch Shiva but
his attention seemed elsewhere. It appeared as if he was working out the
implications of the true Neelkanth's arrival.
'Brahaspati…' said Kanakhala, as she tried to call the chief scientist back
into the here and now.
'Huh!'
'Can you tell me how the Somras works, Brahaspati?' asked Shiva again.
'Of course,' said Brahaspati, as his eyes refocused on the people in front
of him. Noticing Nandi he asked, 'Is it alright to speak in front of the
Captain?'
'Nandi has been my friend through my sojourn in Meluha,' said Shiva. 'I
hope it is alright if he stays here.'
Nandi felt touched that his Lord still trusted him so openly. He swore once
again, on pain of death, to never lie to his Lord.
'Whatever you say, Shiva,' said Brahaspati, smiling warmly.
Shiva noticed that Brahaspati was not submissive or excessively
deferential on discovering that he was the Neelkanth. Just like
Parvateshwar, Brahaspati called Shiva by his name and not 'My Lord'.
However, Shiva felt that while Parvateshwar's attitude was driven by a
distrustful surliness, Brahaspati's was driven perhaps by an assured
affability.
'Thank you,' smiled Shiva. 'So, how does the Somras work?'
The royal procession moved slowly on the road to Mount Mandar. A pilot
guard of one hundred and sixty cavalrymen rode in front of the five royal
carriages in columns of four abreast. A rearguard of another one hundred
and sixty rode behind the royal carriages, in a similar formation. A side
guard of forty each marched along the left and right flanks. Each carriage
also had ten soldiers and five serving maids seated on the side supports. The
soldiers were the legendary Arishtanemi, the most feared militia in all of
India.
The five carriages were made of solid wood, with no windows or
apertures, except for upward pointed slits at the top for ventilation. There
was a grill in front, behind the rider, that allowed in light and air. This could
be shut instantly in case of an attack. All the carriages were of exactly the
same dimension and appearance, making it impossible to know which
carriage carried the royal family. If a person had divyadrishti, divine vision,
to look beyond what human eyes could see, he would observe that the first,
third and fourth carriages were empty. The second carried the royal family
— Daksha, his wife Veerini and his daughter Sati. The last carriage carried
Parvateshwar and some of his key brigadiers.
'Father, I still don't understand why you insist on taking me along to
pujas. I am not even allowed to attend the main ceremony,' said Sati.
'I have said this to you many times,' smiled Daksha, as he patted Sati's
hand fondly. 'No puja of mine is complete unless I have seen your face. I
don't care about the damned law.'
'Father!' whispered Sati with an embarrassed smile and a slight,
reproachful shake of her head. She knew it was wrong of her father to insult
the law.
Sati's mother, Veerini, looked at Daksha with an awkward smile. Then
taking a quick look at Sati, she returned to her book.
At a short distance from the royal procession, hidden by the dense forest, a
small band of fifty soldiers moved along silently. The soldiers wore light
leather armour on their torso and had their dhotis tied in military style to
ensure ease of movement. Each of them carried two swords, a long knife
and a hardshield made of metal and leather which was tied loosely around
the back. Their shoes had grooves that could hold three small knives. Two
men walked at the head of the band. One of them, a handsome young man
with a battle scar embellishing his face, wore a dark brown turban which
signified that he was the Captain. His leather armour had been tied a little
loose and a gold chain and pendant had slipped out carelessly. The pendant
had a beautiful, white representation of a horizontal crescent moon, the
Chandravanshi symbol.
Next to him walked a giant of a man covered in a long robe from head to
toe. A hood stitched onto the robe was pulled up over his head while his
face was covered with a black mask. Very little of him was visible except
for his strong fleshy hands and his expressionless, almond-shaped eyes. A
leather bracelet was tied to his right wrist with the serpent Aum symbol
embroidered onto it. Without turning to the Captain, the hooded figure said,
'Vishwadyumna, your mark is visible. Put it in and tighten your armour.'
An embarrassed Vishwadyumna immediately pushed the chain inside and
pulled the two strings on the side of his shoulder to tighten the breastplate.
'My Lord, begging your pardon,' said Vishwadyumna. 'But perhaps we
could move ahead and confirm that this is the route to Mount Mandar. Once
we know that, we'll be sure that our informant was correct. I am sure that
we can come back to kidnap her later. We are dangerously outnumbered in
lany case. We can't do anything right now.'
The hooded figure replied calmly, 'Vishwadyumna, have I ordered an
attack? Where does the question of us being outnumbered come in? And we are moving in the direction of Mount Mandar. A few hours delay will not
bring the heavens down. For now, we follow.'
Vishwadyumna swallowed hard. There was nothing he hated more than
opposing his lord's views. After all, it was his lord who had found the rare
Suryavanshi sympathetic to their cause. This breakthrough would make it
possible for them to rip out and destroy the very heart of Meluha. He spoke
softly, 'But my Lord, you know the Queen doesn't like delays. There is
unrest brewing amongst the men fueled by a feeling that perhaps the focus
is being lost.'
The hooded figure turned sharply. His body seemed to convey anger but
his voice was composed. 'I am not losing focus. If you want to leave, please
go. You will get your money. I will do this alone if I have to.'
Shocked to see the rare display of emotion in his leader, Vishwadyumna
retracted immediately. 'No, my Lord. That is not what I was trying to imply.
I am sorry. I will stay with you till you release me. You are right. A few
hours will make no difference keeping in mind that we have waited for
centuries.'
The platoon continued tracking the royal caravan silently.
'At a conceptual level, how the Somras works is ridiculously simple,' said
Brahaspati. 'The almost impossible task was to convert the concept into
reality. That was the genius of Lord Brahma. Jai Shri Brahma!'
'Jai Shri Brahma,' repeated Shiva, Kanakhala and Nandi.
'Before understanding how the medicine slows down the ageing process
dramatically, we have to understand what keeps us alive,' said Brahaspati.
'There is a fundamental thing that none of us can live without.'
Shiva stared at Brahaspati, waiting for him to expound.
'And that fundamental thing is energy,' explained Brahaspati. 'When we
walk, talk, think, in fact when we do anything that can be called being alive,
we use energy.'
'We have a similar concept amongst our people,' said Shiva. 'Except, we
call it Shakti.'
'Shakti?' asked a surprised Brahaspati. 'Interesting. That word has not
been used to describe energy for many centuries. It was a term employed by
the Pandyas, the ancestors of all the people of India. Do you know where
your tribe has come from? Their lineage?'
'I am not really sure but there is an old woman in my tribe who claims to
know everything about our history. Perhaps we should ask her when she
comes to Devagiri.'
'Perhaps we should!' smiled Brahaspati. 'In any case, getting back to the
subject, we know that nothing can be done by our body without energy.
Now where does this energy come from?'
'From the food that we eat?' suggested Nandi, timidly. He was finally
developing the confidence to speak in front of such important people.
'Absolutely right. The food that we eat stores energy, which we can then
expend. That's also why we feel weak when we don't eat. However, you
don't get energy merely by eating. Something inside the body has to draw
the energy so that we can put it to good use.'
'Absolutely,' agreed Shiva.
'The conversion of food into energy is performed by the air we breathe,'
continued Brahaspati. 'The air has various gases in it. One of these gases is
called oxygen, which reacts with our food and releases energy. If we don't
get oxygen, our body would be starved of energy and we would die.'
'But this is the process that keeps us alive,' said Shiva. 'What does the
medicine have to do with it? The medicine has to work on that which
causes us to grow old, become weak and die.'
Brahaspati smiled. 'What I've told you does have something to do with
how we age. Because as it appears, nature has a sense of humour. The thing
that keeps us alive is also what causes us to age and eventually die. When
oxygen reacts with our food in order to release energy, it also releases free
radicals called oxidants. These oxidants are toxic. When you leave any fruit
out and it becomes rancid, this is because it has been "oxidised" or the
oxidants have reacted with it to make it rot. A similar "oxidising process"
causes metals to corrode. It happens especially with the new metal we have
discovered — iron. The same thing happens to our body when we breathe
in oxygen. The oxygen helps convert the food we eat into energy. But it also
causes the release of oxidants into our body which start reacting inside us.
We rust from the inside and hence age and eventually die.'
'By the holy god Agni!' exclaimed Nandi. 'The thing that gives us life is
also what slowly kills us?'
'Yes,' said Brahaspati. 'Think about it. The body tries to store everything
that you need from the outside world in order to survive. It stores enough
food to survive for a few days without it. It stocks up on water so that a few days of thirst will not kill you. It seems logical, right? If your body needs
something, it keeps some of it as backup for possible shortages.'
'Absolutely,' agreed Shiva.
'On the other hand, the body does not store enough oxygen, the most
crucial component of staying alive, to last for more than just a few minutes.
It doesn't make any sense at all. The only explanation is that the body
realises that despite being an elixir, oxygen is also a poison. Hence it is
dangerous to store.'
'So, what did Lord Brahma do?' asked Shiva.
'After a lot of research, Lord Brahma invented the Somras, which when
consumed, reacts with the oxidants, absorbs them and then expels them
from the body as sweat or urine. Because of the Somras, there are no
oxidants left in the body.'
'Is that why the perspiration released from the body is poisonous the first
time a person drinks the Somras?'
'Yes. Your sweat is particularly dangerous the first time you drink the
Somras. Having said that, remember, sweat and urine released from the
body even after a person has drunk the Somras for years remains toxic. So
you have to eject it from the body and make sure that it does not affect
anyone else.'
'So, that's why the Meluhans are so obsessed with hygiene.'
'Yes. That's why all Meluhans are taught about two things from a young
age — water and hygiene. Water is the cleanest absorber of the effluents
that the Somras generates and excretes as toxins. Meluhans are taught to
drink gallons of water. And everything that can be washed, should be
washed! The Meluhans bathe at least twice a day. All ablutions are done in
specific rooms and underground drains then safely carry the waste out of
the city.'
'Strict hygiene standards!' smiled Shiva, as he remembered his first day in
Kashmir and Ayurvati's strong words. 'How is the Somras manufactured?'
'Manufacturing the Somras is not without its fair share of difficulties. It
requires various ingredients that are not easily available. For example, the
Sanjeevani tree. The empire has giant plantations to produce these trees.
The manufacturing procedure also generates a lot of heat. So we have to use
a lot of water during the processing to keep the mixture stable. Also, the
crushed branches of the Sanjeevani tree have to be churned with the waters of the Saraswati river before processing begins. Water from other sources
doesn't work.'
'Is that the strange noise I keep hearing: the churners?'
'That's exactly what it is. We have giant churning machines in a massive
cavern at the base of this mountain. The Saraswati waters are led in here
through a complex system of canals. The water is collected in an enormous
pool in the cavern which we affectionately call Sagar.'
'Sagar? An ocean? Is that what you call a pool of water?' asked a
surprised Shiva, for he had heard legends about the massive, never-ending
expanse of water called Sagar.
'It is a bit of a hyperbole,' admitted Brahaspati with a smile. 'But if you
did see the size of the pool, you would realise that we are not that off the
mark!'
'Well I would certainly like to see the entire facility. It was too late by the
time we got in last night so I haven't seen much of the mountain as yet.'
'I will take you around after lunch,' said Brahaspati.
Shiva grinned in reply. He was about to say something, but checked
himself in time, looking at both Kanakhala and Nandi.
Brahaspati noticed the hesitation. He felt Shiva might want to ask him
something, but not in front of Nandi and Kanakhala. Brahaspati turned to
them and said, 'I think Shiva wants to ask me something. May I request you
to wait outside?'
It was a measure of the respect that Brahaspati commanded, that
Kanakhala immediately rose to leave the room after a formal Namaste,
followed by Nandi. Brahaspati turned to Shiva with a smile. 'Why don't you ask the question you really came to ask?'