The Immortals of Meluha
Page 30
‘It’s very kind of you to inform me, your Highness,’ said Shiva with a formal namaste.
‘My family and I were hoping to have the honour of eating breakfast with you tomorrow morning, my Lord.’
‘The honour would be mine, your Highness.’
‘Excellent. Excellent,’ beamed Daksha as he moved on to the question that dominated his mind. ‘What do you think of the Somras, my Lord? Isn’t it really the drink of the Gods?’
‘Yes your Highness. It does appear to be a miraculous drink.’
‘It is the basis of our civilisation,’ continued Daksha. ‘Once you have taken a tour of our land, you will see the goodness of our way of life. I am sure you will find it in your heart to do something to save it.’
‘Your Highness, I already think highly of your country. It truly is great and treats its citizens well. I wouldn’t doubt that it is a way of life that is worth protecting. However, what I am not sure about is what I can do. Yours is such an advanced civilisation and I am just a simple tribal man.’
‘Faith is a very potent weapon, my Lord,’ said Daksha, his hands joined in supplication. ‘All that is needed is for you to have as much faith in yourself as we have in you. I am sure that if you spend a few more days in our country and see the effect that your presence has on our people, you will realise what you can do.’
Shiva gave up arguing against Daksha’s childlike belief.
Brahaspati winked at Shiva before coming to his rescue. ‘Your Highness, Shiva looks tired to me. It has been a long day. Maybe he should retire and we could meet tomorrow?’
Daksha smiled, ‘Perhaps you are right, Brahaspati. My apologies for troubling you, my Lord. We will see you at breakfast. Have a good night.’
‘Good night,’ wished Shiva in return.
Sati waited quietly at the table as Daksha glanced nervously at the prahar lamp. To the left were Kanakhala, Brahaspati and Parvateshwar. To his right was an empty chair. For the ‘Neelkanth’, thought Sati. Next to the empty chair sat Sati and to her right was her mother, Veerini. Daksha had agonised deeply over the seating to get it exactly right.
Sati looked over the arrangements. A formal table and chairs for breakfast rather than the preferred low table and floor cushions that Meluhans normally sat upon to eat. The beloved banana leaf had been replaced by gold plates. The taste enhancing kulhads, or mud cups, had been replaced by refined silver glasses. She thought that her father was really pulling out all stops for this breakfast meeting. She had seen him pin his hopes on too many so-called Neelkanths earlier. Miracle men who had turned out to be frauds. She hoped that her father would not have to face disillusionment again.
The crier announced Shiva and Nandi. As Daksha rose with a reverential namaste to receive the Lord, Parvateshwar rolled his eyes at the servile behaviour of his Emperor. At the same instant, Sati bent down to pick up a glass that she had accidentally knocked over to the floor.
‘My Lord,’ said Daksha pointing to the people standing around the table. ‘Kanakhala, Brahaspati and Parvateshwar, you already know. At the far right is my wife, Queen Veerini.’
Shiva smiled politely as he returned Veerini’s namaste with a formal namaste and a low bow.
‘And next to her,’ said Daksha with a broad smile as Sati came up holding the glass she had retrieved, ‘is my daughter, Princess Sati.’
The breath went out of Shiva as he looked at his life staring back at him. His heart beat a frantic rhythm. He could swear that he had a whiff of his favourite fragrance in the world: the aroma of the holy lake at sunset. As before, he was mesmerized.
There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. Except for the noise made by the unfortunate glass which fell from Sati’s hand again. The clang of the rolling glass distracted Sati slightly from her fixed gaze. With superhuman effort, she managed to control the look of shock on her face. She was breathing heavily, as if she had just danced a duet with Shiva. What she did not know was that her soul was doing exactly that.
Daksha gazed at the dumbstruck couple with glee. He had the look of a director who had just seen his play being perfectly executed. Nandi, standing right behind Shiva, could see Sati’s expression. Suddenly everything became clear to him. The dance practices, the vikarma touch, the shudhikaran and his Lord’s anguish. While some part of him was afraid, another reconciled to it quickly. If his Lord wanted this, he would support it in every way possible. Brahaspati stared blankly at the couple, deep in thought about the implications of this unexpected situation. Parvateshwar looked at the goings on with barely concealed repugnance. What was happening was wrong, immoral and worst of all, illegal.
‘My Lord,’ said Daksha pointing to the empty seat at his right. ‘Please take your seat and we shall begin.’
Shiva did not react. He had not heard Daksha’s words. He was in a world where the only sound was the harmonious melody of Sati’s heavy breathing. A tune he could blissfully dance to for his next seven lives.
‘My Lord,’ repeated Daksha, a litde louder.
A distracted Shiva finally looked at Daksha, as if from another world.
‘Please take your seat, my Lord,’ said Daksha.
‘Yes of course, your Highness,’ said Shiva averting his eyes in embarrassment.
As Shiva sat down, the food was brought in. It was a simple delicacy that the Meluhans loved for breakfast. Rice and some cereals fermented and ground into a thick batter. Small portions of this batter were then wrapped in banana leaves and steamed into cylindrical roundels. The preparation was served while still draped in the banana leaf, along with some spicy lentils for taste. The dish was called an idli.
‘You’re the Neelkanth?’ a still shocked Sati whispered softly to Shiva, as she had willed some calmness into her breathing.
‘Apparently so,’ replied Shiva with a playful grin. ‘Impressed?’
Sati answered that question with a raised disdainful brow. The mask was back. ‘Why would I be impressed?’
What?!
‘My Lord,’ said Daksha.
‘Yes, your Highness,’ said Shiva, turning towards Daksha.
‘I was thinking,’ said Daksha. ‘Our puja should be over by this evening. Yet I have to stay here for two more days for some reviews with Brahaspati. There is no point in having Veerini and Sati get thoroughly bored out here for so much time.’
‘Thank you, your Highness,’ said Brahaspati with a sly grin. ‘Your vote of confidence in the interest that the royal family has in Mount Mandar is most reassuring.’
The entire table burst out laughing. So did Daksha, exhibiting a sporting spirit.
‘You know what I meant Brahaspati!’ said Daksha, shaking his head. Turning back to Shiva, he continued, ‘From what I know, my Lord, you were planning to leave for Devagiri tomorrow morning. I think it may be a good idea for Veerini and Sati to accompany you. The rest of us can catch up with you two days later.’
Sati looked up in alarm. She wasn’t sure why, but something told her that she shouldn’t agree to this plan. Another part of her said that she had no reason to be scared. In all the eighty-five years she had spent as a vikarma, she had never broken the law. She had the self-control to know what was right, and what wasn’t.
Shiva though had no such thoughts. With very obvious delight, he said, ‘I think that is a very good idea, your Highness. Nandi and I could travel with both her Highnesses back to Devagiri.’
‘My family and I were hoping to have the honour of eating breakfast with you tomorrow morning, my Lord.’
‘The honour would be mine, your Highness.’
‘Excellent. Excellent,’ beamed Daksha as he moved on to the question that dominated his mind. ‘What do you think of the Somras, my Lord? Isn’t it really the drink of the Gods?’
‘Yes your Highness. It does appear to be a miraculous drink.’
‘It is the basis of our civilisation,’ continued Daksha. ‘Once you have taken a tour of our land, you will see the goodness of our way of life. I am sure you will find it in your heart to do something to save it.’
‘Your Highness, I already think highly of your country. It truly is great and treats its citizens well. I wouldn’t doubt that it is a way of life that is worth protecting. However, what I am not sure about is what I can do. Yours is such an advanced civilisation and I am just a simple tribal man.’
‘Faith is a very potent weapon, my Lord,’ said Daksha, his hands joined in supplication. ‘All that is needed is for you to have as much faith in yourself as we have in you. I am sure that if you spend a few more days in our country and see the effect that your presence has on our people, you will realise what you can do.’
Shiva gave up arguing against Daksha’s childlike belief.
Brahaspati winked at Shiva before coming to his rescue. ‘Your Highness, Shiva looks tired to me. It has been a long day. Maybe he should retire and we could meet tomorrow?’
Daksha smiled, ‘Perhaps you are right, Brahaspati. My apologies for troubling you, my Lord. We will see you at breakfast. Have a good night.’
‘Good night,’ wished Shiva in return.
Sati waited quietly at the table as Daksha glanced nervously at the prahar lamp. To the left were Kanakhala, Brahaspati and Parvateshwar. To his right was an empty chair. For the ‘Neelkanth’, thought Sati. Next to the empty chair sat Sati and to her right was her mother, Veerini. Daksha had agonised deeply over the seating to get it exactly right.
Sati looked over the arrangements. A formal table and chairs for breakfast rather than the preferred low table and floor cushions that Meluhans normally sat upon to eat. The beloved banana leaf had been replaced by gold plates. The taste enhancing kulhads, or mud cups, had been replaced by refined silver glasses. She thought that her father was really pulling out all stops for this breakfast meeting. She had seen him pin his hopes on too many so-called Neelkanths earlier. Miracle men who had turned out to be frauds. She hoped that her father would not have to face disillusionment again.
The crier announced Shiva and Nandi. As Daksha rose with a reverential namaste to receive the Lord, Parvateshwar rolled his eyes at the servile behaviour of his Emperor. At the same instant, Sati bent down to pick up a glass that she had accidentally knocked over to the floor.
‘My Lord,’ said Daksha pointing to the people standing around the table. ‘Kanakhala, Brahaspati and Parvateshwar, you already know. At the far right is my wife, Queen Veerini.’
Shiva smiled politely as he returned Veerini’s namaste with a formal namaste and a low bow.
‘And next to her,’ said Daksha with a broad smile as Sati came up holding the glass she had retrieved, ‘is my daughter, Princess Sati.’
The breath went out of Shiva as he looked at his life staring back at him. His heart beat a frantic rhythm. He could swear that he had a whiff of his favourite fragrance in the world: the aroma of the holy lake at sunset. As before, he was mesmerized.
There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. Except for the noise made by the unfortunate glass which fell from Sati’s hand again. The clang of the rolling glass distracted Sati slightly from her fixed gaze. With superhuman effort, she managed to control the look of shock on her face. She was breathing heavily, as if she had just danced a duet with Shiva. What she did not know was that her soul was doing exactly that.
Daksha gazed at the dumbstruck couple with glee. He had the look of a director who had just seen his play being perfectly executed. Nandi, standing right behind Shiva, could see Sati’s expression. Suddenly everything became clear to him. The dance practices, the vikarma touch, the shudhikaran and his Lord’s anguish. While some part of him was afraid, another reconciled to it quickly. If his Lord wanted this, he would support it in every way possible. Brahaspati stared blankly at the couple, deep in thought about the implications of this unexpected situation. Parvateshwar looked at the goings on with barely concealed repugnance. What was happening was wrong, immoral and worst of all, illegal.
‘My Lord,’ said Daksha pointing to the empty seat at his right. ‘Please take your seat and we shall begin.’
Shiva did not react. He had not heard Daksha’s words. He was in a world where the only sound was the harmonious melody of Sati’s heavy breathing. A tune he could blissfully dance to for his next seven lives.
‘My Lord,’ repeated Daksha, a litde louder.
A distracted Shiva finally looked at Daksha, as if from another world.
‘Please take your seat, my Lord,’ said Daksha.
‘Yes of course, your Highness,’ said Shiva averting his eyes in embarrassment.
As Shiva sat down, the food was brought in. It was a simple delicacy that the Meluhans loved for breakfast. Rice and some cereals fermented and ground into a thick batter. Small portions of this batter were then wrapped in banana leaves and steamed into cylindrical roundels. The preparation was served while still draped in the banana leaf, along with some spicy lentils for taste. The dish was called an idli.
‘You’re the Neelkanth?’ a still shocked Sati whispered softly to Shiva, as she had willed some calmness into her breathing.
‘Apparently so,’ replied Shiva with a playful grin. ‘Impressed?’
Sati answered that question with a raised disdainful brow. The mask was back. ‘Why would I be impressed?’
What?!
‘My Lord,’ said Daksha.
‘Yes, your Highness,’ said Shiva, turning towards Daksha.
‘I was thinking,’ said Daksha. ‘Our puja should be over by this evening. Yet I have to stay here for two more days for some reviews with Brahaspati. There is no point in having Veerini and Sati get thoroughly bored out here for so much time.’
‘Thank you, your Highness,’ said Brahaspati with a sly grin. ‘Your vote of confidence in the interest that the royal family has in Mount Mandar is most reassuring.’
The entire table burst out laughing. So did Daksha, exhibiting a sporting spirit.
‘You know what I meant Brahaspati!’ said Daksha, shaking his head. Turning back to Shiva, he continued, ‘From what I know, my Lord, you were planning to leave for Devagiri tomorrow morning. I think it may be a good idea for Veerini and Sati to accompany you. The rest of us can catch up with you two days later.’
Sati looked up in alarm. She wasn’t sure why, but something told her that she shouldn’t agree to this plan. Another part of her said that she had no reason to be scared. In all the eighty-five years she had spent as a vikarma, she had never broken the law. She had the self-control to know what was right, and what wasn’t.
Shiva though had no such thoughts. With very obvious delight, he said, ‘I think that is a very good idea, your Highness. Nandi and I could travel with both her Highnesses back to Devagiri.’
