The Immortals of Meluha
Page 29
‘Yes, why did it? Why did my throat turn blue? Forget about stopping the degeneration of my body, the Somras actually repaired a dislocated shoulder and a frostbitten toe.’
‘It repaired an injury?’ asked an incredulous Brahaspati. ‘That’s impossible! It is just supposed to prevent diseases and ageing, not repair injuries.’
‘Well, it did in my case.’
Brahaspati thought for a bit. ‘We will have to do experiments to come up with a definitive answer. For now though, I can think of only one explanation. From what I know, you come from the high lands beyond the Himalayas, right?’
Shiva nodded.
‘The air gets thinner as you go higher up the mountains,’ continued Brahaspati. ‘There is less oxygen in thinner air. That means your body was used to surviving with less oxygen and resultantiy was less harmed by the oxidants. Therefore the anti-oxidants in the Somras may have had a stronger effect on you.’
‘That could be one of the reasons,’ agreed Shiva. ‘But if that was the case, the rest of my tribe should have also turned cold and blue. Why just me?’
‘A good point,’ conceded Brahaspati. ‘But tell me one thing. Did your tribe also experience an improvement in their pre—existing conditions?’
‘Actually, yes they did.’
‘So maybe the diluted air you all lived in did have some role to play. But since all of your tribe did not develop blue throats, it is obvious that the “thinner air” theory may be a partial explanation. We can always research it more. I am sure there is a scientific explanation for the blue throat.’
Shiva looked at Brahaspati intently, as he read between the lines of Brahaspati’s last statement. ‘You don’t believe in the legend of the Neelkanth, do you?’
Brahaspati smiled at Shiva awkwardly. He was beginning to like Shiva and did not want to say anything to insult him. But he wasn’t going to lie either. ‘I believe in science. It provides a solution and a rationale for everything. And if there is anything that appears like a miracle, the only explanation is that a scientific reason for it has not been discovered as yet.’
‘Then why do the people of Meluha not look to science for solving their problems?’
‘I am not sure,’ said Brahaspati thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps it is because science is a capable but cold-hearted master. Unlike a Neelkanth, it will not solve your problems for you. It will only provide you the tools that you may need to fight your own battles. Perhaps it is easier for people to believe that someone else will come and solve their problems rather than solve it themselves.’
‘So what do you think is the role that the Neelkanth has to play in Meluha?’
Brahaspati looked at Shiva sympathetically. ‘I would like to think that true Suryavanshis should fight their own demons rather than put pressure on someone else and expect him to solve their problems. A true Suryavanshi’s duty is to push himself to the limit of his abilities and strength. The coming of the Neelkanth should only redouble a Suryavanshi’s efforts, since it is obvious that the time for the destruction of evil is near.’ Shiva nodded.
‘Are you concerned that it may be too much of a strain for you to take up a responsibility that you don’t really want, because of the pressure of faith?’ asked Brahaspati.
‘No, that is not my concern,’ replied Shiva. This is a wonderful country and I certainly want to do all I can to help. But what if your people depend on me to protect them and I can’t? Right now, I can’t say that I can do all that is expected from me. So how can I give my word?’
Brahaspati smiled. According to his rule book, any man who took his own word seriously was worth respecting.
‘You appear to be a good man, Shiva. You will probably face a lot of pressure in the coming days. Be careful, my friend. Because of the blue throat and the blind faith it generates, your decisions will have ramifications for the entire land. Remember, whether a man is a legend or not is decided by history, not fortune-tellers.’
Shiva smiled, glad to have finally found a man who understood his predicament. And more importantly, was willing to at least offer some advice.
It was late in the evening. Having spent a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon on a detailed tour of Mount Mandar with Brahaspati, Shiva lay on his bed, reading a book. A spent chillum lay on the side table.
A few aspects of the story he was reading, ‘The Righteous War against the Asuras’, troubled him. The Asuras were demons and were expected to behave like demons, having a pathological hatred for the Devas. They routinely attacked Deva cities, trying to force them to accept the Asura way of life. This was not a surprise to Shiva. What was unexpected though was the way some of the Devas behaved, going to unusually unethical limits in their blind pursuit of victory. Lord Rudra, though personally a great man, seemed to ignore the indiscretions of the Devas in the interest of the larger good.
Shiva heard a commotion outside the Guest House. He looked out of his first floor balcony to notice that the royal caravan had just arrived. The Arishtanemi soldiers had formed a neat salutary row at the entrance. Some people appeared to be disembarking from the far side of the second carriage. Shiva assumed it must be the royal family. The surprise was that the Arishtanemi seemed to be going through just the normal motions in receiving the royal family. There wasn’t the usual servitude that would be expected in front of royalty. Shiva suspected that this could be due to the usual Meluhan obsession with perceived equality.
However, Shiva’s equality theory was challenged when he looked at the fifth carriage from which Parvateshwar alit. Here, the Arishtanemi seemed to be in a tizzy. The senior captain rushed in front of Parvateshwar and executed a Meluhan military salute — a quick click of the heels, the body rigid in attention and the right hand, balled in a fist, brought rapidly and violently to his left chest. After this salute, the captain bent low in respect to the chief of the army. The soldiers at the back repeated their captain’s greeting. Parvateshwar formally saluted in return, accompanied with a slight bow of his head.
He started towards his soldiers, inspecting them, while the captain politely fell two steps behind.
Shiva had a feeling that the admiration reserved for Parvateshwar was not because of the post he held. It was for the man himself. For all his surliness, Parvateshwar had a reputation of a brave warrior, a soldier’s general respected as a man whose word was true. Shiva could see the strength of that repute in the eyes of each Arishtanemi who bent low on receiving the attention of his general.
A little while later, Shiva heard a soft knock on his door. He did not need to open it to know who was on the other side. Sighing sofdy, he opened the door.
Daksha’s fixed smile disappeared and he started a litde as the unfamiliar odour of the marijuana assaulted his senses. Kanakhala, standing to the Emperor’s right, appeared equally perplexed.
‘What is that stench?’ Daksha asked Brahaspati, who stood to the left. ‘Perhaps you should change the Lord’s room. How can you subject him to this discomfort?’
‘I have a feeling that Shiva is comfortable with this aroma, your Highness,’ said Brahaspati.
‘It is a smell that travels with me, your Highness,’ said Shiva. ‘I like it.’
Daksha was baffled. His face did nothing to hide his revulsion. But he quickly recovered his composure. After all, the Lord was happy with the malodour. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, my Lord,’ said Daksha, his smile back in place. ‘I had just thought I would inform you that my family and I have reached the guest house.’
‘It repaired an injury?’ asked an incredulous Brahaspati. ‘That’s impossible! It is just supposed to prevent diseases and ageing, not repair injuries.’
‘Well, it did in my case.’
Brahaspati thought for a bit. ‘We will have to do experiments to come up with a definitive answer. For now though, I can think of only one explanation. From what I know, you come from the high lands beyond the Himalayas, right?’
Shiva nodded.
‘The air gets thinner as you go higher up the mountains,’ continued Brahaspati. ‘There is less oxygen in thinner air. That means your body was used to surviving with less oxygen and resultantiy was less harmed by the oxidants. Therefore the anti-oxidants in the Somras may have had a stronger effect on you.’
‘That could be one of the reasons,’ agreed Shiva. ‘But if that was the case, the rest of my tribe should have also turned cold and blue. Why just me?’
‘A good point,’ conceded Brahaspati. ‘But tell me one thing. Did your tribe also experience an improvement in their pre—existing conditions?’
‘Actually, yes they did.’
‘So maybe the diluted air you all lived in did have some role to play. But since all of your tribe did not develop blue throats, it is obvious that the “thinner air” theory may be a partial explanation. We can always research it more. I am sure there is a scientific explanation for the blue throat.’
Shiva looked at Brahaspati intently, as he read between the lines of Brahaspati’s last statement. ‘You don’t believe in the legend of the Neelkanth, do you?’
Brahaspati smiled at Shiva awkwardly. He was beginning to like Shiva and did not want to say anything to insult him. But he wasn’t going to lie either. ‘I believe in science. It provides a solution and a rationale for everything. And if there is anything that appears like a miracle, the only explanation is that a scientific reason for it has not been discovered as yet.’
‘Then why do the people of Meluha not look to science for solving their problems?’
‘I am not sure,’ said Brahaspati thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps it is because science is a capable but cold-hearted master. Unlike a Neelkanth, it will not solve your problems for you. It will only provide you the tools that you may need to fight your own battles. Perhaps it is easier for people to believe that someone else will come and solve their problems rather than solve it themselves.’
‘So what do you think is the role that the Neelkanth has to play in Meluha?’
Brahaspati looked at Shiva sympathetically. ‘I would like to think that true Suryavanshis should fight their own demons rather than put pressure on someone else and expect him to solve their problems. A true Suryavanshi’s duty is to push himself to the limit of his abilities and strength. The coming of the Neelkanth should only redouble a Suryavanshi’s efforts, since it is obvious that the time for the destruction of evil is near.’ Shiva nodded.
‘Are you concerned that it may be too much of a strain for you to take up a responsibility that you don’t really want, because of the pressure of faith?’ asked Brahaspati.
‘No, that is not my concern,’ replied Shiva. This is a wonderful country and I certainly want to do all I can to help. But what if your people depend on me to protect them and I can’t? Right now, I can’t say that I can do all that is expected from me. So how can I give my word?’
Brahaspati smiled. According to his rule book, any man who took his own word seriously was worth respecting.
‘You appear to be a good man, Shiva. You will probably face a lot of pressure in the coming days. Be careful, my friend. Because of the blue throat and the blind faith it generates, your decisions will have ramifications for the entire land. Remember, whether a man is a legend or not is decided by history, not fortune-tellers.’
Shiva smiled, glad to have finally found a man who understood his predicament. And more importantly, was willing to at least offer some advice.
It was late in the evening. Having spent a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon on a detailed tour of Mount Mandar with Brahaspati, Shiva lay on his bed, reading a book. A spent chillum lay on the side table.
A few aspects of the story he was reading, ‘The Righteous War against the Asuras’, troubled him. The Asuras were demons and were expected to behave like demons, having a pathological hatred for the Devas. They routinely attacked Deva cities, trying to force them to accept the Asura way of life. This was not a surprise to Shiva. What was unexpected though was the way some of the Devas behaved, going to unusually unethical limits in their blind pursuit of victory. Lord Rudra, though personally a great man, seemed to ignore the indiscretions of the Devas in the interest of the larger good.
Shiva heard a commotion outside the Guest House. He looked out of his first floor balcony to notice that the royal caravan had just arrived. The Arishtanemi soldiers had formed a neat salutary row at the entrance. Some people appeared to be disembarking from the far side of the second carriage. Shiva assumed it must be the royal family. The surprise was that the Arishtanemi seemed to be going through just the normal motions in receiving the royal family. There wasn’t the usual servitude that would be expected in front of royalty. Shiva suspected that this could be due to the usual Meluhan obsession with perceived equality.
However, Shiva’s equality theory was challenged when he looked at the fifth carriage from which Parvateshwar alit. Here, the Arishtanemi seemed to be in a tizzy. The senior captain rushed in front of Parvateshwar and executed a Meluhan military salute — a quick click of the heels, the body rigid in attention and the right hand, balled in a fist, brought rapidly and violently to his left chest. After this salute, the captain bent low in respect to the chief of the army. The soldiers at the back repeated their captain’s greeting. Parvateshwar formally saluted in return, accompanied with a slight bow of his head.
He started towards his soldiers, inspecting them, while the captain politely fell two steps behind.
Shiva had a feeling that the admiration reserved for Parvateshwar was not because of the post he held. It was for the man himself. For all his surliness, Parvateshwar had a reputation of a brave warrior, a soldier’s general respected as a man whose word was true. Shiva could see the strength of that repute in the eyes of each Arishtanemi who bent low on receiving the attention of his general.
A little while later, Shiva heard a soft knock on his door. He did not need to open it to know who was on the other side. Sighing sofdy, he opened the door.
Daksha’s fixed smile disappeared and he started a litde as the unfamiliar odour of the marijuana assaulted his senses. Kanakhala, standing to the Emperor’s right, appeared equally perplexed.
‘What is that stench?’ Daksha asked Brahaspati, who stood to the left. ‘Perhaps you should change the Lord’s room. How can you subject him to this discomfort?’
‘I have a feeling that Shiva is comfortable with this aroma, your Highness,’ said Brahaspati.
‘It is a smell that travels with me, your Highness,’ said Shiva. ‘I like it.’
Daksha was baffled. His face did nothing to hide his revulsion. But he quickly recovered his composure. After all, the Lord was happy with the malodour. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, my Lord,’ said Daksha, his smile back in place. ‘I had just thought I would inform you that my family and I have reached the guest house.’
