The Immortals of Meluha
Page 38
‘Interesting. So how did Lord Manu’s litde band grow into the formidable India we see today?’
‘The years immediately following their arrival at Mehragarh were harsh on them. With each year’s monsoon, the flooding and sea tides would become stronger. But after many years and with the force of Lord Manu’s prayers, the anger of the gods abated and the waters stopped advancing. The sea, however, never receded to its original levels.’
‘This means that somewhere in the deep south, the sea still covers the ancient Sangamtamil cities?’
‘We believe so,’ answered Brahaspati. ‘Once the sea stopped advancing, Lord Manu and his men came down the mountains. They were shocked to see that the minor stream of Indus had become a massive river. Many other rivulets across northern India too had swollen and six great rivers had emerged — Indus, Saraswati, Yamuna, Ganga, Sarayu and Brahmaputra. Lord Manu said the rivers started flowing because the temperatures of our land rose with the wrath of the gods. With the rise in temperatures, huge channels of ice or glaciers frozen high in the Himalayas had started melting, creating the rivers.’
‘Hmm...’
‘Villages, and later cities, grew on the banks of these rivers. Thus our land of the seven rivers, Sapt-Sindhu, was born out of the destruction of the Sangamtamil.’
‘Seven? But you mentioned the creation of six rivers in North India.’
‘Yes, that’s true. The seventh river already existed. It is the Narmada and it became our southern border. Lord Manu strictly forbade his descendants to go south of the Narmada. And if they did so, they could never return. This is a law that we believe even the Chandravanshis adhere to.’
‘So what are Lord Manu’s other laws?’
‘There are numerous laws actually. They are all listed in an extensive treatise called the Manusmriti. Would you be interested in listening to the entire text?’
‘Tempting,’ smiled Shiva. ‘But I think I’ll pass.’
‘With your permission, my Lords, perhaps we can further discuss Lord Manu’s guidance of our society over lunch,’ suggested Krittika.
At a short distance from the road on which the Neelkanth’s caravan travelled, a small band of about forty men trudged silently along the Beas. One in two men of the platoon carried a small coracle on his head. It was typical of this region. The locals made small and light boats made of bamboo, cane and rope, portable enough to be carried by a single man on his head. Each boat could ferry two people with relative safety and speed. At the head of the platoon was a young man with a proud battle scar adorning his face, his head crowned with a brown turban. A little ahead of him walked a hooded figure. With his head bowed, his eyes scrunched, he took slow methodical steps, his mind lost in unfathomable thoughts. His breathing was hard. He brought his hand up languidly to rub his masked forehead. There was a leather bracelet on his right wrist with the serpent Aum symbol embroidered on it.
‘Vishwadyumna,’ said the hooded figure. ‘We will enter the river from here. Whenever we come close to populated areas, we will move away from the river to avoid detection. We have to reach Karachapa within two months.’
‘Karachapa, my Lord?’ asked Vishwadyumna surprised. ‘I was under the impression that we were to have a secret audience with the Queen outside Lothal.’
‘No,’ answered the hooded figure. We will meet her outside Karachapa.’
‘Yes, my Lord,’ answered Vishwadyumna, as he looked back in the direction of the road to Kotdwaar. He knew that his Lord would have dearly liked to make one more attempt to kidnap the princess. He also knew that it was foolhardy to endeavour to do so considering the strength of the force accompanying the caravan. In any case, they were behind schedule for their main mission. They had to meet the Queen urgently.
Turning towards one of his soldiers, Vishwadyumna ordered, ‘Sriktaa, place your coracle in the river and give me your oar. I will row the Lord through this part of the journey’
Sriktaa immediately did as instructed. Vishwadyumna and the hooded figure were the first of the platoon to enter the river. Vishwadyumna had already started rowing as his men started placing their boats into the waters. At a distance further down the river, the hooded figure saw two women lounging carelessly on a boat. One of the women was sloppily splashing water from the side of the boat on to her friend who was making a hopeless attempt to avoid getting wet. Their childish game caused their boat to sway dangerously from side to side. The hooded figure saw that the women had not detected a crocodile that had entered the river from the opposite bank. Having spied what must have looked like an appetising meal, the crocodile was swimming swiftly towards the women’s boat.
‘Look behind you!’ shouted the hooded figure to the women, as he motioned to Vishwadyumna to row rapidly in their direction.
The women could not hear him from the distance. What they did see, however, was two men were rowing towards them. They could see one of them was almost a giant covered from head to toe in a strange robe, his face covered with a mask. This man was making frantic gestures. Behind the duo were a large number of soldiers swiftly pushing their boats on to the river. That was all the warning the women needed. Thinking that the men were coming towards them with evil intent, the women put all their effort behind the oar and started hastily rowing away from the hooded figure’s boat. Into the path of the crocodile.
‘No!’ shouted the hooded figure.
He grabbed the oar from Vishwadyumna, using his powerful arms to row rapidly. He was shortening the distance between them and the women. But not fast enough. The crocodile closed in on the women’s boat and diving underwater charged at the craft, rocking it with its massive body. The tiny vessel tilted and capsized, throwing the women into the Beas.
Screams of terror rent the air as the women fought to stay afloat. The crocodile had moved too far ahead in its dash. Turning around, it swam towards the struggling women. The delay of those crucial seconds proved fateful for the women. The rescue boat arrived between the crocodile and them. Turning towards Vishwadyumna, the hooded figure ordered, ‘Save the women.’
Before Vishwadyumna could react, he had flung his robe aside and dived into the river. With his knife held tight between his teeth, he swam towards the advancing crocodile. Vishwadyumna pulled one of the women into the boat. She had already lost consciousness. Turning to the other woman, he reassured, ‘I am coming back soon.’
Vishwadyumna turned and paddled vigorously towards the bank. On the way he passed some of his other soldiers. ‘Row quickly. The Lord’s life is in danger.’
The other soldiers paddled towards the area where the hooded figure had dived into the river. The water had turned red with blood from the battle raging under water. The soldiers said a silent prayer to Lord Varun, the god of the water and the seas, hoping that the blood did not belong to their Lord.
One of the soldiers was about to jump into the water with his sword when the hooded figure emerged onto the surface, soaked in blood. It was that of the crocodile. He swam forcefully towards the other woman who was on the verge of losing consciousness. Reaching her in the nick of time, he pulled her head out of the water. Meanwhile, two of the Chandravanshi soldiers dived off their coracle.
‘My Lord, please get into the boat,’ said one of them. ‘We will swim ashore.’
‘The years immediately following their arrival at Mehragarh were harsh on them. With each year’s monsoon, the flooding and sea tides would become stronger. But after many years and with the force of Lord Manu’s prayers, the anger of the gods abated and the waters stopped advancing. The sea, however, never receded to its original levels.’
‘This means that somewhere in the deep south, the sea still covers the ancient Sangamtamil cities?’
‘We believe so,’ answered Brahaspati. ‘Once the sea stopped advancing, Lord Manu and his men came down the mountains. They were shocked to see that the minor stream of Indus had become a massive river. Many other rivulets across northern India too had swollen and six great rivers had emerged — Indus, Saraswati, Yamuna, Ganga, Sarayu and Brahmaputra. Lord Manu said the rivers started flowing because the temperatures of our land rose with the wrath of the gods. With the rise in temperatures, huge channels of ice or glaciers frozen high in the Himalayas had started melting, creating the rivers.’
‘Hmm...’
‘Villages, and later cities, grew on the banks of these rivers. Thus our land of the seven rivers, Sapt-Sindhu, was born out of the destruction of the Sangamtamil.’
‘Seven? But you mentioned the creation of six rivers in North India.’
‘Yes, that’s true. The seventh river already existed. It is the Narmada and it became our southern border. Lord Manu strictly forbade his descendants to go south of the Narmada. And if they did so, they could never return. This is a law that we believe even the Chandravanshis adhere to.’
‘So what are Lord Manu’s other laws?’
‘There are numerous laws actually. They are all listed in an extensive treatise called the Manusmriti. Would you be interested in listening to the entire text?’
‘Tempting,’ smiled Shiva. ‘But I think I’ll pass.’
‘With your permission, my Lords, perhaps we can further discuss Lord Manu’s guidance of our society over lunch,’ suggested Krittika.
At a short distance from the road on which the Neelkanth’s caravan travelled, a small band of about forty men trudged silently along the Beas. One in two men of the platoon carried a small coracle on his head. It was typical of this region. The locals made small and light boats made of bamboo, cane and rope, portable enough to be carried by a single man on his head. Each boat could ferry two people with relative safety and speed. At the head of the platoon was a young man with a proud battle scar adorning his face, his head crowned with a brown turban. A little ahead of him walked a hooded figure. With his head bowed, his eyes scrunched, he took slow methodical steps, his mind lost in unfathomable thoughts. His breathing was hard. He brought his hand up languidly to rub his masked forehead. There was a leather bracelet on his right wrist with the serpent Aum symbol embroidered on it.
‘Vishwadyumna,’ said the hooded figure. ‘We will enter the river from here. Whenever we come close to populated areas, we will move away from the river to avoid detection. We have to reach Karachapa within two months.’
‘Karachapa, my Lord?’ asked Vishwadyumna surprised. ‘I was under the impression that we were to have a secret audience with the Queen outside Lothal.’
‘No,’ answered the hooded figure. We will meet her outside Karachapa.’
‘Yes, my Lord,’ answered Vishwadyumna, as he looked back in the direction of the road to Kotdwaar. He knew that his Lord would have dearly liked to make one more attempt to kidnap the princess. He also knew that it was foolhardy to endeavour to do so considering the strength of the force accompanying the caravan. In any case, they were behind schedule for their main mission. They had to meet the Queen urgently.
Turning towards one of his soldiers, Vishwadyumna ordered, ‘Sriktaa, place your coracle in the river and give me your oar. I will row the Lord through this part of the journey’
Sriktaa immediately did as instructed. Vishwadyumna and the hooded figure were the first of the platoon to enter the river. Vishwadyumna had already started rowing as his men started placing their boats into the waters. At a distance further down the river, the hooded figure saw two women lounging carelessly on a boat. One of the women was sloppily splashing water from the side of the boat on to her friend who was making a hopeless attempt to avoid getting wet. Their childish game caused their boat to sway dangerously from side to side. The hooded figure saw that the women had not detected a crocodile that had entered the river from the opposite bank. Having spied what must have looked like an appetising meal, the crocodile was swimming swiftly towards the women’s boat.
‘Look behind you!’ shouted the hooded figure to the women, as he motioned to Vishwadyumna to row rapidly in their direction.
The women could not hear him from the distance. What they did see, however, was two men were rowing towards them. They could see one of them was almost a giant covered from head to toe in a strange robe, his face covered with a mask. This man was making frantic gestures. Behind the duo were a large number of soldiers swiftly pushing their boats on to the river. That was all the warning the women needed. Thinking that the men were coming towards them with evil intent, the women put all their effort behind the oar and started hastily rowing away from the hooded figure’s boat. Into the path of the crocodile.
‘No!’ shouted the hooded figure.
He grabbed the oar from Vishwadyumna, using his powerful arms to row rapidly. He was shortening the distance between them and the women. But not fast enough. The crocodile closed in on the women’s boat and diving underwater charged at the craft, rocking it with its massive body. The tiny vessel tilted and capsized, throwing the women into the Beas.
Screams of terror rent the air as the women fought to stay afloat. The crocodile had moved too far ahead in its dash. Turning around, it swam towards the struggling women. The delay of those crucial seconds proved fateful for the women. The rescue boat arrived between the crocodile and them. Turning towards Vishwadyumna, the hooded figure ordered, ‘Save the women.’
Before Vishwadyumna could react, he had flung his robe aside and dived into the river. With his knife held tight between his teeth, he swam towards the advancing crocodile. Vishwadyumna pulled one of the women into the boat. She had already lost consciousness. Turning to the other woman, he reassured, ‘I am coming back soon.’
Vishwadyumna turned and paddled vigorously towards the bank. On the way he passed some of his other soldiers. ‘Row quickly. The Lord’s life is in danger.’
The other soldiers paddled towards the area where the hooded figure had dived into the river. The water had turned red with blood from the battle raging under water. The soldiers said a silent prayer to Lord Varun, the god of the water and the seas, hoping that the blood did not belong to their Lord.
One of the soldiers was about to jump into the water with his sword when the hooded figure emerged onto the surface, soaked in blood. It was that of the crocodile. He swam forcefully towards the other woman who was on the verge of losing consciousness. Reaching her in the nick of time, he pulled her head out of the water. Meanwhile, two of the Chandravanshi soldiers dived off their coracle.
‘My Lord, please get into the boat,’ said one of them. ‘We will swim ashore.’
