The Oath of The Vayuputras (18 page)
Shiva smiled. ‘Sometimes, faith can lean towards over-simplicity.’
Gopal smiled in return. ‘Maybe simplicity is what this world needs right now.’
Shiva laughed softly and looked at the audience of Vasudev pandits, listening to the two of them with rapt attention. ‘Well, many of my doubts have been cleared. The Somras is the greatest Good and will therefore, one day, certainly emerge as the greatest Evil. But how do we know that the moment has arrived? How can we be sure?’
One of the Vasudev pandits answered. ‘We can never be completely sure, great Neelkanth. But if you allow me to express an opinion, we have had a Good which has had a glorious journey for thousands of years and humanity has grown tremendously with its munificence. However, we also know that it is close to becoming Evil now. It is possible that the Somras is taken out of the equation a trifle early, and the world will lose out on a few hundred years of additional good that it could do. But that pales in comparison to the enormous contribution it has already made for thousands of years. On the other hand, there is the risk that the Somras is getting closer to Evil and is likely to lead to chaos and destruction. It is already causing it in substantial measure; I’m not merely referring to the plague of Branga or the deformities of the Nagas. It is believed that the Somras is also responsible for the drastic fall in the birth rate of the Meluhans.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes,’ answered Gopal. ‘Perhaps in refusing to embrace death, they pay the price of not seeing their own genes propagate.’
Shiva acknowledged that he’d understood with a gentle nod. The massive images of Lord Ram and Lady Sita that formed the carved central pillar seemed to smile at him. Accepting their blessings, his eyes were drawn farther, towards a grand painting depicting Lord Ram at the feet of Lord Rudra in the backdrop of holy Rameshwaram. Shiva smiled at the giant circle of life. He joined his hands together in a respectful Namaste, closed his eyes and prayed.
Jai Maa Sita. Jai Shri Ram.
Shiva was resolute as he opened his eyes and beheld Gopal. ‘I have made my decision. We will strive to avoid war and needless bloodshed. But should our efforts prove futile, we shall fight to the last man. We will end the reign of the Somras.’
‘Your uncle was a Vayuputra Lord?’ asked an amazed Sati.
Sati and Shiva were in their private chambers. Shiva had just related his entire conversation with the Vasudevs and the decision that he had arrived at.
‘Not just an ordinary Lord!’ smiled Shiva. ‘An Amartya Shpand.’
Sati raised her arms and rested them on Shiva’s muscular shoulders, her eyes teasing. ‘I always knew there was something special about you; that you couldn’t have been just another rough tribal. And now I have proof. You have pedigree!’
Shiva laughed loudly, holding Sati close. ‘Rubbish! You thought I was an uncouth barbarian when you first laid your eyes on me!’
Sati edged up on her toes and kissed Shiva warmly on his lips. ‘Oh, you are still an uncouth barbarian...’
Shiva raised his eyebrows.
‘But you are
my
uncouth barbarian...’
Shiva’s face lit up with the crooked smile he reserved for Sati; the smile that made her weak in the knees. He held her tight and lifted her up, close to his lips. Her feet dangling in the air, they kissed languidly; warm and deep.
‘You are my life,’ whispered Shiva.
‘You are the sum of all my lives,’ said Sati.
Shiva continued to hold her up in the air, embracing her tight, resting his head on her shoulders. Sati had her arms around her husband, her fingers running circles in his hair.
‘So, are you going to let me down sometime?’ asked Sati.
Shiva just shook his head in answer. He was in no hurry.
Sati smiled and rested her head on his shoulders, content to let her feet dangle in mid-air, playing with Shiva’s hair.
‘Here you go,’ said Sati.
Shiva took the glass of milk from her. He liked his milk raw: no boiling, no jaggery, no cardamom, nothing but plain milk. Shiva drained the glass in large gulps, handed it to Sati and sank back on his chair with his feet up on the table. Sati put the glass down and sat next to him. Shiva looked across the balcony, towards the Vishnu temple. He took a deep breath and turned to Sati. ‘You’re right. Much as I respect Ganesh’s tactical thinking, this time he is wrong. Parvateshwar will not leave me.’
Sati nodded emphatically in agreement. ‘Without an inspirational leader like him, the armies of Meluha and Swadweep, though strong, will lack motivation as well as sound battle tactics.’
‘That is true. But let us hope that the people themselves will rise up in rebellion and there will be no need for war.’
‘How can we ensure that, though? If you send the proclamation banning the Somras to the kings, they will make sure that the general public will not know.’
‘That’s exactly what the Vasudevs and I discussed. My proclamation should not only reach the royalty but every citizen of India directly. The best way to ensure this is to display the proclamation in all the temples. All Indians visit temples regularly, and when they do, they will read my order.’
‘And I’m sure the people will be with you. Let’s hope that the kings listen to the will of their people.’
‘Yes, I cannot think of another way to avoid war. I expect unflinching support from only the royalty of Kashi, Panchavati and Branga. Every other king will make his choice based on selfish interests alone.’
Sati held Shiva’s hand and smiled. ‘But we have the King of Kings, the
Parmatma
himself with us. We will not lose.’
‘We cannot afford to lose,’ said Shiva. ‘The fate of the nation is at stake.’
‘Are you sure you can do this, Kartik?’ asked Ganesh.
Kartik looked up at his brother with eyes like still waters. ‘Of course, I can. I’m your brother.’
Ganesh smiled and stepped away from the elephant mounting platform. Kartik and another diminutive Vasudev soldier were sitting on a
howdah
atop one of the largest bull elephants in the Ujjain stables. The
howdah
had been altered from its standard structure; the roof had been removed and the side walls cut by half. This reduced the protection to the riders, but dramatically improved their ability to fire weapons. Kartik had come up with an innovative idea that used the elephant as more than just a battering ram for enemy lines; instead, it could be used as a high platform from which to fire weapons in all directions.
This strategy envisioned a deliberate and co-ordinated movement of war elephants as opposed to a wild charge. The issue of the choice of weapons, however, remained. Arrows discharged from elephant-back could never be so numerous as to cause serious damage. The Vasudev military engineers were ready with a solution – an innovative flame-thrower which used a refined version of the liquid black fuel imported from Mesopotamia. This devastating weapon spewed a continuous stream of fire, burning all that stood in its path. The fuel tanks occupied a substantial part of the
howdah,
leaving just enough room for two such weapons and infantrymen. The flame-throwers were not just heavy but released intense heat while operational. Therefore, they required strong operators. But constraints of space in the
howdah
also meant that the operators be, perforce, of short stature. Kartik, along with such a soldier, had volunteered to man this potential inferno.
Ganesh stood at a distance along with Parshuram, Nandi and Brahaspati. He shouted out to his brother. ‘Are you ready, Kartik?’
Kartik shouted back, ‘I was born ready,
dada
.’
Ganesh smiled as he turned towards the Vasudev commander. ‘Let’s begin, brave Vasudev.’
The commander nodded and waved a red flag.
Kartik and the Vasudev soldier immediately struck a flame and lit the weapons. Two devilishly long streams of fire burst out and reached almost thirty metres, on both sides of the elephant. A protective covering around the elephant’s sides ensured it did not feel the heat. Kartik and the Vasudev had been tasked with reducing some thirty mud statues to ashes. The ‘enemy’ mud soldiers had been spread out, to test the range and accuracy of the weapon. Though heavy, the fire-weapons were surprisingly manoeuvrable. The
mahout
concentrated on following Kartik’s orders and the mud-soldiers were reduced to ashes in no time.
Parshuram turned towards Ganesh. ‘These can be devastating in war, Lord Ganesh. What do you think?’
Ganesh smiled as he borrowed a phrase from his father. ‘Hell yes!’
‘We have transcribed your proclamation, Lord Neelkanth,’ said Gopal.
Gopal and Shiva were in the Vishnu temple, near the central pillar. Shiva read the papyrus scroll.
To all of you who consider yourselves the children of Manu and followers of the Sanatan Dharma, this is a message from me, Shiva, your Neelkanth.
I have travelled across our great land, through all the kingdoms we are divided into, met with all the tribes that populate our fair realm. I have done this in search of the ultimate Evil, for that is my task. Father Manu had told us Evil is not a distant demon. It works its destruction close to us, with us, within us. He was right. He told us Evil does not come from down below and devour us. Instead, we help Evil destroy our lives. He was right. He told us Good and Evil are two sides of the same coin. That one day, the greatest Good will transform into the greatest Evil. He was right. Our greed in extracting more and more from Good turns it into Evil. This is the universe’s way of restoring balance. It is the
Parmatma’s
way to control our excesses.
I have come to the conclusion that the Somras is now the greatest Evil of our age. All the Good that could be wrung out of the Somras has been wrung. It is time now to stop its use, before the power of its Evil destroys us all. It has already caused tremendous damage, from the killing of the Saraswati River to birth deformities to the diseases that plague some of our kingdoms. For the sake of our descendants, for the sake of our world, we cannot use the Somras anymore.
Therefore, by my order, the use of the Somras is banned forthwith.