The Krishna Key (4 page)

Professor Kurkude opened his eyes and squinted a little. The harsh sunlight hurt his eyes. He had been made to lie down on the rear seat of the car with the car doors wide open. ‘What happened to me?’ he asked, looking up into the faces of Saini and Priya. Taarak stood respectfully a few feet away.

‘You were poisoned, sir,’ said Saini. ‘A paralysing agent was administered in something that you ate or drank. Fortunately, all of us were at hand,’ explained Saini.

‘Poisoned? But how? I have been drinking only water—with the exception of the coffee that the waiter served us,’ said Kurkude. ‘You think that the restaurant staff wanted to kill me?’

‘It’s possible that our assassin has followed us. He could be lurking in the shadows and may have slipped the poison into your coffee so that he would be able to overpower you easily. It’s difficult to tell, but it only strengthens my resolve that we need to get to Chandigarh fast, in double-quick time,’ said Saini. ‘Quite obviously we’re dealing with a very cunning person—someone who seems to know our every move. Possibly this is someone who understands the spiritual and scientific explanations behind these seals.’

Taarak, who was within earshot, smiled to himself. Saini would be dumbfounded if he knew the extent of knowledge that Mataji possessed. ‘Shall we get going, sir?’ he asked deferentially.

‘Yes,’ replied Saini. ‘If the professor feels strong enough.’

‘I’m fine. Let’s go,’ said Kurkude as Taarak sat down in the driver’s seat and turned the ignition key. As the journey resumed, Taarak’s thoughts drifted back to his days of training under his mentor and teacher, Mataji.

‘For generations, our land has been invaded by foreigners,’ said Mataji to young Taarak after school one day. ‘The Greeks, Huns, Mongols, Arabs, Portuguese, French and English plundered India of its wealth. It shall be your responsibility to right these historical wrongs.’

‘But how, Mataji? I am just a young boy,’ said Taarak.

‘But one day you shall grow up. You shall realise that you have within you all the miraculous powers of the Kalki Avatar—the final incarnation of Vishnu. That&#ent I am waiting for,’ she said.

‘But what shall be my mission?’ asked Taarak.

‘To show the world that the cradle of civilisation was right here in India! To guide the misbelievers and to show them the errors of their ways!’ exclaimed Mataji. ‘The English rascals came to India and propagated the myth of an Aryan invasion. Significantly, there is no record of an invasion or migration in the
Vedas, Puranas
or
Itihasas.
The Western pseudo-scholars were simply unwill,’ replied Sir Khanbl saiing to accept the fact that ours was an amazingly advanced civilisation that lay distinctly outside Europe, at a time far earlier than the one in which the patriarchs Abraham and Moses made their covenant with God!’

‘But our history teacher in school tells us that there was an Aryan invasion in… in… 1500 BCE,’ said Taarak, scratching his head to recall the date.

‘That was based on Christian belief, not science! The Christians believed that the world was created at nine o’clock in the morning of 23 October, 4004 BCE. Working from that date, they established that the great Biblical flood—in the anticipation of which Noah built a massive ark to preserve living beings on earth—would have happened in 2448 BCE. They then postulated that the Aryan invasion would have happened around a thousand years later!
That
is the basis for what has been passed on to us as historical research for endless years,’ scoffed Mataji.

‘So the Western scholars were interested in propagating Christianity rather than serious historical research?’ asked Taarak.

‘Yes,’ said Mataji. ‘Western scholars who studied Hindu literature were initially convinced that the
Krishna story had been borrowed from the life of Jesus Christ. In 1762, the Italian scholar P. Georgi wrote that
Krishnu is a corruption of the name of the Saviour; the deeds correspond wonderfully with the name, though they have been impiously and cunningly polluted by most wicked imposters!
Another scholar, Albrecht Weber, painstakingly pointed out all the similarities between Krishna and Christ. Weber concluded that the Vedic concept of incarnations of God was also borrowed from the idea that Jesus Christ had been the Son of God. Yet another scholar, Dr F. Lorinser, carried out a translation of the
Bhagavad Gita
but instead of admiring it for its original wisdom, he compared it to the
New Testament
and concluded that the
Gita
had mostly been inspired by the Bible!’ exclaimed Mataji.

‘So we were accused of having plagiarised the Bible?’ asked Taarak.

‘Yes. But luckily, the big break in favour of Krishna’s antiquity came from a book called
Indica
—written around three hundred years before Jesus Christ by Megasthenes, the Greek ambassador to the Mauryan kingdom. Megasthenes described Mathura as a centre of Krishna-worship. The Western scholars who had been claiming that Krishna was simply a story inspired by the Christian Bible now had to eat their own words because it turned out that the Krishna story had existed much before Jesus Christ. For the first time ever, Indian literary sources were reviewed to see if they could substantiate what was written in the
Indica.
As it turns out, the grammarian Patanjali had written of Kansa’s slaying by Krishna in the second century BCE; Kautilya’s
Arthashastra
from the
fourth century BCE mentioned Krishna several times; the greatest Sanskrit grammarian, Panini, talked of Vishnu-worship and Bhakti in the fifth century BCE. It was thus firmly established that Krishna—and Krishna-worship—predated Christianity by many centuries,’ explained Mataji. ‘Forced to eat humble pie, Western scholars now adopted the ingenious idea of suggesting that ancient Indian literature was not a product of local Indian populations but had been imported by conquering Aryans from Central Europe.’

Taarak nodded his head vigorously to show support for Mataji’s declarations.

‘We keep referring to Mesop,’ replied Sir Khaned of bmefotamia as the cradle of civilisation. That’s nonsense. It was India! It was the drying-up of the Sarasvati that took our people and our culture there. The most sacred spot for Muslims from around the world is the
Kaaba
in Mecca. The world forgets the fact that the Kaaba was a pagan temple prior to the advent of Islam. The Kaaba contained 360 idols, representing each day of the year. The chief among these deities was the moon-god Hubal—remarkably similar to Shiv. Just like Shiv, Hubal was depicted as carrying the moon on his head. And just like Shiv, from whose holy abode the Ganga flowed down to us, Hubal had the sacred waters of Zamzam,’ said Mataji. ‘The Muslims retained many of the pagan rites associated with the Kaaba. They continued to circumambulate the Kaaba seven times—just like Hindus do around fire. They continued to wear white clothes during Hajj—just like the Jain munis of India do round the year. They even retained the symbol of Hubal—the crescent and star—and adopted it as an Islamic symbol!’

‘How does that matter, Mataji? It only shows that we are all connected, doesn’t it?’ asked Taarak innocently.

‘True, but what I’m telling you is that many of the traditions of Islam evolved from a set of pagan beliefs. It is possible that some of these pagan traditions had Vedic roots. Much later, Muslims came to believe that Hubal’s three goddesses—
Al-Lat, Uzza
and
Manat
—had taken refuge in the Somnath temple of Gujarat, just a short distance from Dwarka. This was the main reason why waves of attacks by Muslim invaders took place on the Somnath temple!’ said Mataji indignantly. ‘That’s why I need you to work diligently… so that you may set right historical wrongs.’

‘I shall work hard, Mataji. I shall make you proud of me,’ said Taarak allowing himself to be convinced of the righteousness of Mataji’s cause. He silently vowed to do whatever was needed to make her happy.

That brings me to the topic of Arjuna’s wife, Subhadra. I knew that my sister, Subhadra, was in love with Arjuna. However, my elder brother Balarama had arranged her marriage with Duryodhana. I advised Arjuna to enter Dwarka in disguise and, rather shrewdly, advised
Subhadra to elope with him. She needed very little encouragement, though! Balarama was very angry with me. He planned to go after Arjuna but when I convinced him that Subhadra had eloped with Arjuna of her own free will, he grudgingly reconciled himself to the situation. Subhadra would eventually bear Arjuna a son. His name would go down in history as Abhimanyu.

Devendra Chhedi was surprised to receive a visit from Inspector Radhika Singh and Sub-Inspector Rathore. He almost wished he could ignore their presence, as he scanned his printouts containing genetic markers. He smiled contentedly as he took a puff from his cherry-flavoured tobacco-laden pipe and then forced himself to deal with the police officers who were looking at him quizzically, wondering why he was smiling at them.

Chhedi was the world’s leading authority in SCNT—better known as Somatic Cell Nuclear Transfer. In SCNT, reproductive cloning could be carried out by transferring genetic material from the nucleus of a donor adult cell to an egg whose nucleus had been removed. The reconstructed egg, containing the DNA from the donor cell, would then be treated with chemicals and electric currents in order to stimulate cell division. Once the cloned embryo reached an enclosed within a circle.atis Saini and Radhika appropriate age, it would be transferred to the uterus of a female host where it would continue to develop until birth.

Cloning had originally been discovered by Scottish scientists at the Roslin Institute who had created the famous sheep
Dolly.
Dolly had aroused global excitement and concern because of the scientific and
ethical implications of cloning. The achievement, cited by
Science
magazine as the medical miracle of the decade, also generated uneasiness over cloning, soon to become an all-encompassing term used by researchers to describe different processes for duplicating biological material. Chhedi had worked his way up at the Roslin Institute before being offered a generous research grant by the Chandigarh-based Immuno Molecular Life Sciences Ltd to carry on his study with substantially elevated budgets and state-of-the-art facilities.

‘Yes? What may I do for you?’ asked Chhedi, holding out his hand to exchange greetings with the officers. As he got up from his chair, his long salt-and-pepper hair fell over his face. His crumpled lab coat partially hid a polka-dotted bowtie that was lopsided and covered with pipe ash.

‘Sir, we need your assistance,’ began Radhika Singh. ‘You do remember the seal that was sent to you for safekeeping by your friend, Mr Anil Varshney?’

‘I’m not at liberty to discuss this issue with you,’ declared Chhedi pompously. He hadn’t been sworn to secrecy by Varshney, but Chhedi was unable to pass up any opportunity to make people in authority squirm. It was this rebellious streak that had got him into trouble with the school principal when he had rigged his toilet to explode. Mercifully, the young Chhedi had been a better talker than detonations-expert and the principal had managed to get away with just a few tender spots on his rear. Chhedi had been rusticated, much to the chagrin of his father who had eventually cajoled the principal to think beyond his sore backside.

‘Fair enough,’ said Radhika quickly. ‘The reason we’re here is because Mr Varshney’s murderer—someone known to you from your school days—Ravi Mohan Saini is on his way here to meet you. We believe that he has killed not only Anil Varshney but also Dr Nikhil Bhojaraj. In addition to that, he is a suspect in the death of Professor Rajaram Kurkude’s secretary as well as in the kidnapping of Professor Kurkude himself.’

Chhedi’s jaw dropped. What the hell was Saini up to? They had known each other in school. Saini had exhibited the same trace of rebelliousness as Chhedi but to a lesser degree. It was in stark contrast to the exemplary-schoolboy behaviour of Anil Varshney. The officers were right. He did need to give them a patient hearing. It was a question of risk to life. He cleared his throat. ‘What exactly do you want from me?’ he asked.

‘Nothing complicated, sir. We would like to stay put, right here in your office until they show up. In the meantime, I shall be posting plainclothes officers all over your campus. It is our intention to recapture Mr Saini when he comes over to meet you. It shall also give us the opportunity to determine the whereabouts of Professor Kurkude,’ explained Rathore.

‘One more thing sir,’ interrupted Radhika. ‘It’s possible that Saini may phone you in advance to tell you of his arrival. Please keep us informed so that we are better prepared for him. Please be informal and receptive to his requests. Say nothing that may tip him off that we’re here.’

Chhedi nodded his head. ‘I hear you loud and clear, ,’ replied Sir Khanno. bInspector. It shall be as you ask, but I also require your cooperation,’ he said.

‘What sort of cooperation do you need from us?’ asked Radhika.

‘The work that we’re doing here is path-breaking research. We just cannot afford to have strangers roaming in and out of private work areas,’ said Chhedi. ‘You shall have to ensure that your men are restricted to non-access-controlled areas of this facility.’