‘The answer lies in Vedic mathematics,’ explained Saini to Radhika.
She looked up from the glass of milk and a handful of almonds that she had requested Chhedi to arrange for her. ‘These policewomen!’ thought Chhedi. ‘Most of them are nuts!’
‘Ancient Indian mathematicians had invented what they called the magic square. It’s a 3 x 3 arrangement of the first nine digits excluding the zero. The unique property of the magic square is that any row, column or diagonal of the square always adds up to the same number—fifteen,’ said Saini, drawing the square for Radhika, Rathore and Chhedi.
‘In the centre is a single digit surrounded by eight digits. Notice the one-eight pattern?
One
digit surrounded by
eight
digits. The eight surrounding digits represent the four cardinal directions as well as the four ordinal directions. In short, they represent the universe—infinity. If one adds up the eight surrounding digits, one gets forty. Notice that the ratio of the centre digit—five—to the sum of the eight digits that surround it—forty—is a repetition of the
one-eight
pattern,’ Saini demonstrated. ‘According to the sages, zero is nothing. One is the beginning. Eight is everything. 18, 108, 1008, 10008—and other numbers like these—represent the very beginning to the very end!’ he said. ‘Eight is supreme. That’s why Krishna was the
eighth
child; he was the
eighth
avatar of Vishnu; and was born on the
eighth
day,’ replied Sir Khan matter on the Kaliyuga of Rohini!’
Guessing that the others were too dumbfounded to speak, Saini continued. ‘Another key property of the magic square is that one can obtain the swastika by seeking out the squares that add up to twenty-five.’
‘As you can see, at the very heart of the magic square is the number five. What is a five-sided polygon with equal sides called? A regular pentagon. But here’s the real magic… each interior angle of a regular pentagon is 108 degrees! See the magic of
one, zero
and
eight,
yet again?’ asked Saini.
‘Five at the centre of the magic square; five sides of a pentagon; five Pandavas were at the centre of the Mahabharata war, Draupadi had five children, Yayati had five sons, the chariot flag of Bhishma bore five stars, Krishna asked Duryodhana for five villages, and
Panchamrut
is a mixture of five elements that is used in Hindu worship. Is it therefore surprising that
the Americans decided that their most important war headquarters should be in the shape of a regular pentagon?’ asked Saini slyly.
‘And there are five Yadava descendants—Varshney, Bhojaraj, Kurkude, Saini, and Chhedi—of which three are already dead,’ muttered Chhedi morosely, recalling Saini’s private conversation with him on the subject.
‘How does the magic square help us with Varshney’s decoded note?’ asked Radhika, ignoring Chhedi’s interjection.
Saini smiled. ‘Varshney is pointing us to a number. When the four seals were placed together they created a swastika, right?’
‘Right,’ said Chhedi.
Saini continued. ‘Let’s examine Varshney’s deciphered note.
Redraw numeral swastika, smart but stressed pupils!
Varshney first admonishes us for being smart but stressed out and says that we should look at a swastika—not the symbolic one but the numeric one, from a magic square.
Keep stats, no animal parts.
He then says that a redrawing by keeping only the numbers and not the animal images may help. In short, what Varshney is telling us to do is to replace the symbolic swastika with a set of numbers while ignoring the animal motifs.
X on top-left at tip.
Varshney then points us to the specific number within the grid. The value of X on the top-left tip of the swastika is eight.’
Saini paused for a moment before taking the analysis further.
‘Lived, laid, relaid in X.
By replacing X with the number eight, the sentence now reads as
Lived, laid, relaid in eight.
Any guesses for what Varshney is alluding to?’
‘The avatars of Vishnu?’ asked Chhedi. ‘Krishna
was
the eighth avatar of Vishnu.’
‘True, but the avatars of Vishnu are ten, with the tenth one yet to appear. No, Varshney is referring to a specific place, and the only one that I can think of is the Somnath temple—so very close to Dwarka,’ said Saini.
Before I left Hastinapur, I decided to have a word with Karana. ‘You are supporting a man who has not kept his word. I know you to be a righteous,’ replied Sir Khan
—is Saini and Radhika person, Karana. Why not end your support to Duryodhana? It would force him to rethink and we would all be saved a terrible war,’ I said to him. Karana respectfully told me that Duryodhana had stood by him when the rest of the world had forsaken him. He could not and would not abandon Duryodhana in his hour of need. I then told Karana the secret of his birth and that he was actually a Pandava—
that, too, the eldest. He was entitled to the Pandava throne, as well as Draupadi as his wife. Karana knew that I was telling him the truth and I could sense the struggle within him, but he remained firm. ‘A word once given is not to be broken. I have
promised my permanent loyalty to Duryodhana,’ he said. ‘If it means fighting my own brothers, so be it!’
‘I thought that the swastika denoted Mount Kailash. Where does Somnath come in?’ asked Radhika.
‘The Somnath temple was created and destroyed eight times,’ explained Saini. ‘There’s a fascinating legend that surrounds the origins of Somnath—known as Prabhas Patan during Krishna’s times. It’s the very place where Krishna breathed his last. It’s believed that the first temple was constructed by
Soma
—the moon god—in gold, and hence the name
Somnath.
The next one was built by Ravana in silver, and the third one was built by Krishna, in sandalwood. If we were to set aside the legends, we’d have to acknowledge the well-established historical fact that King Bhimdev of Anhilwad built the first temple at the present site—in stone—and this one is said to have existed before the beginning of the common era.’
‘So the one built by Bhimdev is officially counted as the first?’ asked Chhedi.
‘Yes,’ replied Saini. ‘The second temple was built by the Vallabhi chieftains who were Yadavas. This temple was probably constructed in the seventh century.’
‘What happened to it?’ asked Rathore.
‘In the year 725 CE, Junayad—who was the Arab governor of Sindh—sent his armies to destroy the temple. Thereafter, the Pratihara king Nagabhata II reconstructed the temple in the ninth century. This third temple was a substantial structure built from red sandstone,’ said Saini.
‘Ah. So this was the one that was destroyed by Ghazni?’ asked Chhedi.
‘Precisely. In 1024 CE, Mahmud of Ghazni, in what would be central-east Afghanistan today, attacked Somnath, after crossing the Thar Desert. After looting all the riches of the temple, he destroyed most of it—including the main Shiv lingam,’ said Saini. ‘The fourth temple was then constructed by the Paramara king, Bhoj of Malwa and the Solanki king, Bhima of Anhilwara, sometime in the eleventh century.’
‘Who destroyed that one?’ joked Chhedi.
‘Actually, no one,’ replied Saini. ‘The wooden structure had to be replaced due to wear and tear. King Kumarpal of Pali replaced the wooden structure with a stone one—so that would have been the fifth temple.’
‘I’m assuming that someone razed the fifth temple,’ said Radhika blandly.
Saini smiled. ‘Unfortunately, yes. In the year 1296, the temple was once again desecrated and eventually destroyed by the Turkic Afghan, Sultan Allauddin Khilji’s army. According to some accounts, Raja Karan of Gujarat was defeated and was forced to flee, while fifty thousand “infidels” were p and placed two fingers under the angle of BEncut to the sword. The Delhi Sultanate captured over twenty thousand slaves. Mahipala Deva—the Chudasama king of Saurashtra—rebuilt the temple in the early part of the fourteenth century and his son Khengar installed the Shiv lingam around fifteen years later. This was the sixth Somnath temple.’
‘What happened to it?’ asked Rathore.
‘Well, in 1375, the temple was attacked by Muzaffar Shah I, the Sultan of Gujarat. Somnath was plundered again by Mahmud Begda—another Sultan of Gujarat —in 1451. The final blow fell in 1701, when the temple was destroyed by Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb. He built a mosque on the site of the temple. Around eighty years later, another temple was built at a site adjacent to the mosque, jointly by the Peshwa of Pune, Raja Bhonsle of Nagpur, Chhatrapati Bhonsle of Kolhapur, Queen Ahilyabai Holkar of Indore and Patilbuwa Shinde of Gwalior. This was the seventh temple.’
‘And the eighth?’ asked a wondering Radhika.
‘More than a hundred and sixty years passed before Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel—India’s first home minister—took upon himself the responsibility of reconstructing the temple at the original site,’ explained Saini. ‘The mosque was shifted to a nearby site and the
praanpratishthha
—the ceremony invoking God—was performed in the temple by the first President of India, Dr Rajendra Prasad, on 11 May 1951. This was the eighth—and current—temple. Varshney knew that we would find the number eight at the top-left tip of the swastika and this was his clue signifying that our search needed to be at the Somnath temple—a structure that had been built, destroyed and rebuilt eight times.’
‘Er, I’d like to say something,’ said Chhedi hesitantly.
‘Yes?’ asked Saini.
‘Mount Kailash is located above Lake Mansarovar,’ began Chhedi. ‘I was there last year. At one time there were eight monasteries that were built as strategic
points surrounding the lake. Chinese forces destroyed most of them when they overran Tibet, but now the monasteries are being rebuilt. Couldn’t Varshney have been referring to the eight monasteries of Mount Kailash?’
‘You may be absolutely right, Dumpy. Based upon what you’ve just said, it could be either Somnath or Mount Kailash,’ Saini granted. ‘In fact, Varshney alluded to the fact that it could be either, with his line,
Kalash or Kailash it is?’
‘Kailash refers to Mount Kailash but what does he mean by Kalash?’ asked Chhedi, reasonably.
‘Simple,’ explained Saini. ‘The Somnath temple—like any other Shiv temple—has a
kalash
—a metal pot with a large base and small mouth that is large enough to hold a coconut on top. You can see this kalash atop the present Somnath temple too. When Varshney says “Kalash or Kailash”, he is simply reaffirming our own doubt that the location of the secret could be either Somnath or Mount Kailash.’