THE CURSE OF BRAHMA (47 page)

Bhargava sighed. ‘Everything is not done for a gain, Devayam.’ He shook his head, ‘Anyway, do you have faith in me?’ His tone demanded an honest answer and Devayam squirmed under his mentor’s gaze.

‘I have complete faith in you, acharya,’ he said slowly. ‘But I do not trust this man!’ he pointed belligerently at Amartya.

‘If you have faith in me, then know this—I have complete belief in the great man you point your finger at,’ Bhargava finally snapped at the constant insults to Amartya.

Devayam was taken aback at Bhargava’s sudden anger. ‘I-I don’t understand, acharya. Why are you with this…this man?’ he stammered in confusion.

Bhargava stood up and went up to Amartya. Under Devayam’s astonished gaze, he prostrated himself on both knees in front of Amartya, who placed his right hand on the acharya’s head and blessed him. Bhargava felt a shiver of energy pass through him as Amartya’s hand connected with his Sahasrara Chakra. He got up, his face alight with his fidelity for his friend. Pointing towards Amartya he said, ‘This man you call the Dark Lord is Brahmarishi Amartya Kalyanesu, a brahmarishi in the category of Guru Vashisht and Guru Vishwamitra, perhaps even more. Will you dare to question the moral fibre of a Being such as him?’

Devayam gaped at Amartya and he noticed the aura of blue surrounding him. He felt compelled to bow to the man he had only recently raged at. But Amartya read the doubts in his mind, and said, ‘You bow to me, Devayam, but there are still unspoken questions in your mind. It doesn’t befit a man of your integrity to bow to me till those questions have been answered.’

Devayam looked at Amartya, beginning to understand somewhat why his mentor respected this man so much. ‘Why are we training assassins to kill innocent people, My Lord? Is this not evil? What could possibly justify something like this?’

Amartya gazed at the man who displayed such intense self-belief in questioning not just his own mentor but also a brahmarishi. And he mentally lauded the young man. Aloud he said, ‘Perhaps you could call this evil. But sometimes, it is justifiable to commit a relatively minor evil in order to eradicate a larger one.’

Devayam looked helplessly at Bhargava. His expression told the acharya that he had not been able to comprehend the meaning of Amartya’s cryptic words.

‘Let me tell you a story, Devayam,’ Bhargava said, making up his mind. At the end of it, I would like you to tell me if you noticed any evil in it.’

Devayam nodded with some relief. All of Shukra Acharya’s students knew his penchant of explaining concepts through stories. In any case, it would be easier to understand the point through a story rather than to try and make sense of the brahmarishi’s enigmatic statement.

Bhargava indicated for Devayam to take a seat and he started his story.

‘In the land of Kambhoja, almost three hundred years ago, there lived a simple sage. He had built a hermitage far away from the city, and lived there with his wife, Kavyamata. Aware of the sage’s reputation, several kings and other well-known rishis had sent their children to be taught at his ashram. Assisted by his wife, he transformed the staid hermitage into a sanctuary of learning. While most of the other sages and rishis favoured the devas at the expense of the asuras, this person was above these petty biases and he was respected equally, by both, the devas and the asuras.

‘One day, when the sage had gone out to meditate atop a mountain adjoining the hermitage, a group of asura children came rushing through the gate of the ashram. Most of them were less than ten years old and the others had barely touched adolescence. As soon as they entered the ashram, they fell at the feet of Kavyamata, the sage’s wife. Kavyamata asked one of her shishyas (students) to get them some water. After the children had calmed down somewhat, she asked them the reason for their terrorized entry into the ashram. The children said that they were from a nearby asura colony, and had gone to the forest for a picnic. As they ventured deeper into the woods, they came upon a large group of armed men. Seeing the children, the armed men attacked them, without provocation, and killed some of their companions. The children who survived the assault tried to run back to their colony to save their lives. In their confused state, they lost their way and instead of reaching the asura colony where they lived, they reached the sage’s hermitage. Hoping fervently that the armed men would not attack them in the ashram, they rushed inside to seek refuge.

‘Kavyamata was furious after hearing the children’s story. She commanded her oldest shishyas to cordon off the walls of the ashram and ensure that none of the armed men pursuing the children were allowed to enter. To the cowering children who had sought shelter under her roof, she spoke gently, “Don’t worry young ones; no harm shall come to you while you are here. You have the word of a muni dvitiya (wife of a sage).”

‘While she was trying to make the asura children comfortable inside the ashram, one of her shishyas came in shaken and said, “Maa, there are more than fifty armed men standing at the gate and they are demanding that we hand over the children to them.” Kavyamata looked at her trembling pupil and spoke softly to him, even though her tone was admonishing, “And what do you think, child? Should we fear those barbarians and hand over these defenseless children to them so they can kill them like they did their other companions?” The student lowered his eyes, ashamed at having displayed fear in front of the sage’s wife. He whispered, “No, maa, give me permission to fight these evil men and make them leave.”

‘Kavyamata smiled and patted his head lovingly. “No, child, there is time yet for you to display your prowess. In the absence of your guru, I am responsible for your safety and the security of this ashram. Take me to these men who dare to come armed to a place of learning.” The student led the sage’s wife to the gate where a battalion of armed men waited impatiently. As soon as they saw Kavyamata, they started jeering and hooting. One of them remarked, “Look who’s come…an old crone!” The other men laughed as he continued poking fun at Kavyamata. “We can’t even do anything with this old hag. If she had been a little younger, we could at least have had some fun with her!” Kavyamata’s face grew tight at the insults and she restrained some of her students who made a move towards the man insulting their guru’s wife.

‘And then, to the extreme surprise of the armed men, Kavyamata herself opened the gate to the ashram. There was something about her face and the way she looked at them that made even these men suddenly take a step back in fear. But it was too late. Kavyamata had unleashed the potent Jangama mantra that allowed her to control the mind of anyone she looked at. The men standing close to her were all rendered immobile almost immediately. By the time the others realized what was happening, a majority of them had been affected by the hypnosis-inducing mantra and they stood as statues, incapable of moving a limb. Only two of the armed men, who had been standing beyond the line of vision of the sage’s wife were unaffected and were able to escape. They ran for their lives shouting threats at Kavyamata, even as they left.

‘Kavyamata watched with relief as she saw the two men’s retreating back. She looked up at the setting sun and hoped her husband would be back before the men returned with others. She had exhausted herself by using the mantra on so many people at the same time, and she was aware she might not be able to hold back too many more men if they returned.

‘A few of the older students waited at the gate while Kavyamata went in to meditate. She hoped to recover some of her lost vitality through her powers of concentration. She told her students to call for her if the men returned while she was in meditation.

‘As it grew progressively darker, the children keeping watch at the gate shivered with the cold, and with the fear of the men returning with more warriors. Gradually, they heard the sound of approaching horses. They strained their eyes to see who it was. As the horses drew near, they recognized the two men who had run away earlier. They were accompanied by a third man, wearing a shining white armour. His hair was light brown and it fluttered in the wind. As he rode on his large stallion with his sword held high, he appeared to the students the most dashing and dangerous man they had ever seen in their lives. Mesmerized by the sight of the armoured warrior, they watched in awe as he reached the ashram gate. Before any of them could think of running to warn Kavyamata of the men’s arrival, the warrior’s sword swung in the air and loped off the heads of three of the oldest students stationed at the gate. As the rest of the students watched in horror, the other two men began to systematically hack each of them to death. The annihilation of the shishyas stationed outside was complete and the three warriors had not yet uttered a word.

‘Finally, the man in white armour addressed his two companions and his voice was heavy with rage. “Find every man, woman and child in the ashram and make them taste the metal of your sword. I will deal with the witch who dared to attack my men and gave shelter to the asura children.”

‘The two armed men combed every inch of the ashram and did a professional job of ruthlessly killing all the children they found. Not a single child was spared; and a special fate awaited the asura children. Their hacked heads were placed on top of the walls of the ashram, as a message for anyone else who dared to offer refuge to an asura, or obstructed the way of the warriors.

‘Meanwhile, the third warrior, the one in the white armour, had gone in search of Kavyamata. She was not in the main ashram building, and had gone to meditate at a slight distance, near the stream running behind the hermitage. The warrior gazed at her, sitting serenely by the stream, lost in concentration. For a moment, his mind seemed to waver. Then his face set in a grim expression. His lips curled in an enigmatic smile and with one mighty swoop of his sword, he sliced off her head.’

Devayam stared at Bhargava, as he came to the end of the story. The acharya was looking strangely at him. Without warning, he asked, ‘Tell me now Devayam—did you see any evil in this story?’

Devayam answered almost instantaneously, ‘Great evil, acharya! The men who killed those children and the defenseless gurumata were evil incarnate.’

‘Hmm,’ Bhargava nodded, ‘and if I were to tell you that this was not the first time these men had committed such dastardly deeds? That they had killed other innocent people before this; what would you say should be done to such people?’

This time, Devayam took longer to reply. When he answered, his voice had dropped to a whisper, ‘Such men have no business being alive, acharya. They should be hunted down and destroyed!’ Bhargava countered, ‘But would that not be evil, Devayam? To kill other men?’

Devayam was vehement. ‘How can it be evil to kill such men? They deserve to die!’

Bhargava smiled. ‘You have now understood what Brahmarishi Amartya Kalyanesu said to you sometime back.’ He paused as he saw the beginnings of comprehension dawn on Devayam. ‘To destroy great evil, it may sometimes be justified to commit a lesser one.’

Devayam was silent as he digested this. Then a thought struck him. ‘This warrior, acharya…the one in the white armour. Who was he?’

Bhargava gritted his teeth as he got up to leave. ‘He goes by the name of Indra.’

Devayam gasped. He saw Bhargava preparing to leave for his evening meditation. Amartya Kalyanesu sat quietly, watching the exchange between Shukra Acharya and his aide.

‘Shukra Acharya!’ Devayam called after Bhargava’s retreating figure. ‘Who was that woman in the story—the one called Kavyamata?’

‘She was my mother,’ Bhargava choked as he walked out of the door.