The Immortals of Meluha
Page 47
Sati nodded at Tarak, climbed on her white steed and turned to leave. At the edge of the square, she pulled up her horse and turned to take one more look at Shiva. She smiled at him, turned and rode away.
It was the beginning of the third prahar as Shiva and Brahaspati stole quietly into the local varjish graha, the exercise hall, to observe Tarak exercising with two partners. The day’s yagna had been a disaster. With everyone petrified that the princess would die the next day, no one was inclined to participate in the ceremony. However, as the yagna had been called, it had to be conducted or the gods would be offended. The congregation went through the motions and the yagna was called to a close.
Tarak’s famed fearsome blows on his hapless partners filled Brahaspati’s soul with dread and he came to an immediate decision. ‘I’ll assassinate him tonight. She will not die tomorrow’
Shiva turned in stunned disbelief to the chief scientist. ‘Brahaspati? What are you saying?’
‘Sati is too noble to meet a fate such as this. I am willing to sacrifice my life and reputation for her.’
‘But you are a Brahmin. You are not supposed to kill.’
‘I’ll do it for you,’ whispered Brahaspati, emotions clouding his judgement. You will not lose her, my friend.’
Shiva came close to Brahaspati and hugged him. ‘Don’t corrupt your soul, my friend. I am not worth such a big sacrifice.’
Brahaspati clung to Shiva.
Stepping back, Shiva whispered, ‘In any case, your sacrifice is not required. For as sure as the sun rises in the east, Sati will defeat Tarak tomorrow.’
A few hours into the third prahar, Sati returned to the guest house. She did not go up to her room, but summoned Nandi and Veerbhadra to the central courtyard, drew her sword and began her practise with them.
A little later Parvateshwar walked in, looking broken. His expression clearly conveyed his fear that this might be the last time he would talk to Sati. She stopped practising, sheathed her sword and folded her hands into a respectful namaste. ‘Pitratulya,’ she whispered.
Parvateshwar came close to Sati, his face distraught. She could not be sure but it seemed as though he had been crying. She had never seen even a hint of a tear in his confident eyes.
‘My child,’ mumbled Parvateshwar.
‘I am doing what I think is right,’ said Sati. ‘I am happy’
Parvateshwar couldn’t find the strength to say anything. For a brief moment, he considered assassinating Tarak at night. But that would be illegal.
Just then, Shiva and Brahaspati walked in. Shiva noticed Parvateshwar’s face. This was the first time he had seen any sign of weakness in the general. While he could understand Parvateshwar’s predicament, he did not like the effect it was having on Sati.
‘I am sorry I am late,’ said Shiva cheerily.
Everyone turned to look at him.
‘Actually, Brahaspati and I had gone to the Lord Varun temple to pray for Tarak,’ said Shiva. We prayed that the journey his soul would take to the other world would be comfortable.’
Sati burst out laughing. So did the rest of the party in the courtyard.
‘Bhadra, you are not the right opponent for the practise,’ said Shiva. ‘You move too fast. Nandi you duel with the princess. And control your agility.’
Turning to Sati, Shiva continued, ‘I saw Tarak practise. His blows have tremendous power. But the force of the blows slows him down. Turn his strength into his weakness. Use your agility against his movements.’
Sati nodded, absorbing every word. She resumed her practise with Nandi. Moving rapidly compared to Nandi’s slower movements, Sati was able to succeed in a strike that could be kill.
Suddenly, an idea struck Shiva. Instructing Nandi to stop, he asked Sati, ‘Are you allowed to choose the combat weapon?’
Yes. It’s my prerogative as I threw the challenge.’
‘Then choose the knife. It will reduce the reach of his strikes while you can move in and out much quicker.’
‘That’s brilliant!’ concurred Parvateshwar, while Brahaspati nodded.
Sati signalled her agreement immediately. Almost at the same instant, Veerbhadra emerged with two knives. Giving one to Nandi, he gave the other to Sati. ‘Practise, my Lady.’
Sati and Tarak stood at the centre of a circular stadium. This was not the main Rangbhoomi of Karachapa, which was gargantuan in its proportions. This one had been constructed next to the main stadium, for music concerts that the Mesopotamian immigrants in Karachapa loved. The arena was of the exact dimensions required for an agnipariksha. Not so big that a person could simply steer clear of the other contestant and not too small so that the combat would end fast. There were stands around the ground and a capacity crowd of over twenty thousand had come to watch the most important duel in Karachapa for the last five hundred years.
There was a prayer on every lip. Let Father Manu cause a miracle so that Princess Sati would win. Or at the very least, Eve. Both Tarak and Sati greeted each other with a namaste, repeating an ancient pledge to fight with honour. Then, turning to the statue of Lord Varun at the top of the main stand they bowed, asking for blessings from the God of the Water and the Seas. Jhooleshwar had vacated his ceremonial seat right below the statue of Lord Varun for Shiva. The governor sat to Shiva’s left with Ayurvati and Krittika to his left. Brahaspati and Parvateshwar sat to Shiva’s right. Nandi and Veerbhadra were in their now famiEar position, behind Shiva. A bird courier had been sent to Daksha the previous day, informing him of the duel. However, there wasn’t enough time to expect a reply.
At long last, Jhooleshwar stood up. He was nervous about the agnipariksha, but appeared composed. As per custom, he raised a balled fist to his heart and boomed: ‘Satya! Dharma! Maan!’ An invocation to Truth. Duty. Honour.
The rest of the stadium rang in agreement. ‘Satya! Dharma! Maan!’
Tarak and Sati echoed. ‘Satya! Dharma! Maan!’
Jhooleshwar nodded to the stadium keeper who lit the ceremonial oil lamp with the holy fire. The lamp spilled its fire on to the oil channel; the periphery of the central ground was aflame. The ring for the pariksha had been set.
Jhooleshwar turned to Shiva. ‘My Lord, your instructions to start the duel.’
Shiva looked at Sati with a confident smile. Then turning to the stadium, he declared loudly, ‘In the purifying fire of Lord Agni, truth will always triumph!’
Tarak and Sati immediately drew their knives. Tarak held his knife in front of him, like most traditional fighters. He had chosen a strategy that played to his strengths. Keeping his knife in front of him allowed him to strike the moment Sati came close. He did not stir too much, allowing Sati to make her moves in front of him.
Sati, breaking all known rules of combat, held her knife behind her. She shifted the knife continuously from one hand to the other, while keeping a safe distance from her opponent. The aim was to confuse Tarak about the direction of her attack. Tarak on the other hand was watching Sati’s movements like a hawk. He saw her right arm flex. The knife was now in her right hand.
Suddenly Sati leapt to the left. Tarak remained stationary. He knew that with her right hand holding the knife, the leftward movement was a feint. She would have to move to the right to bring her knife into play. Sure enough, Sati quickly moved to the right and brought in her arm up in a stabbing motion. Tarak was prepared. Shifting his knife quickly to his left arm, he slashed viciously, cutting Sati across her torso. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it appeared to hurt. A collective gasp went out from the audience.
It was the beginning of the third prahar as Shiva and Brahaspati stole quietly into the local varjish graha, the exercise hall, to observe Tarak exercising with two partners. The day’s yagna had been a disaster. With everyone petrified that the princess would die the next day, no one was inclined to participate in the ceremony. However, as the yagna had been called, it had to be conducted or the gods would be offended. The congregation went through the motions and the yagna was called to a close.
Tarak’s famed fearsome blows on his hapless partners filled Brahaspati’s soul with dread and he came to an immediate decision. ‘I’ll assassinate him tonight. She will not die tomorrow’
Shiva turned in stunned disbelief to the chief scientist. ‘Brahaspati? What are you saying?’
‘Sati is too noble to meet a fate such as this. I am willing to sacrifice my life and reputation for her.’
‘But you are a Brahmin. You are not supposed to kill.’
‘I’ll do it for you,’ whispered Brahaspati, emotions clouding his judgement. You will not lose her, my friend.’
Shiva came close to Brahaspati and hugged him. ‘Don’t corrupt your soul, my friend. I am not worth such a big sacrifice.’
Brahaspati clung to Shiva.
Stepping back, Shiva whispered, ‘In any case, your sacrifice is not required. For as sure as the sun rises in the east, Sati will defeat Tarak tomorrow.’
A few hours into the third prahar, Sati returned to the guest house. She did not go up to her room, but summoned Nandi and Veerbhadra to the central courtyard, drew her sword and began her practise with them.
A little later Parvateshwar walked in, looking broken. His expression clearly conveyed his fear that this might be the last time he would talk to Sati. She stopped practising, sheathed her sword and folded her hands into a respectful namaste. ‘Pitratulya,’ she whispered.
Parvateshwar came close to Sati, his face distraught. She could not be sure but it seemed as though he had been crying. She had never seen even a hint of a tear in his confident eyes.
‘My child,’ mumbled Parvateshwar.
‘I am doing what I think is right,’ said Sati. ‘I am happy’
Parvateshwar couldn’t find the strength to say anything. For a brief moment, he considered assassinating Tarak at night. But that would be illegal.
Just then, Shiva and Brahaspati walked in. Shiva noticed Parvateshwar’s face. This was the first time he had seen any sign of weakness in the general. While he could understand Parvateshwar’s predicament, he did not like the effect it was having on Sati.
‘I am sorry I am late,’ said Shiva cheerily.
Everyone turned to look at him.
‘Actually, Brahaspati and I had gone to the Lord Varun temple to pray for Tarak,’ said Shiva. We prayed that the journey his soul would take to the other world would be comfortable.’
Sati burst out laughing. So did the rest of the party in the courtyard.
‘Bhadra, you are not the right opponent for the practise,’ said Shiva. ‘You move too fast. Nandi you duel with the princess. And control your agility.’
Turning to Sati, Shiva continued, ‘I saw Tarak practise. His blows have tremendous power. But the force of the blows slows him down. Turn his strength into his weakness. Use your agility against his movements.’
Sati nodded, absorbing every word. She resumed her practise with Nandi. Moving rapidly compared to Nandi’s slower movements, Sati was able to succeed in a strike that could be kill.
Suddenly, an idea struck Shiva. Instructing Nandi to stop, he asked Sati, ‘Are you allowed to choose the combat weapon?’
Yes. It’s my prerogative as I threw the challenge.’
‘Then choose the knife. It will reduce the reach of his strikes while you can move in and out much quicker.’
‘That’s brilliant!’ concurred Parvateshwar, while Brahaspati nodded.
Sati signalled her agreement immediately. Almost at the same instant, Veerbhadra emerged with two knives. Giving one to Nandi, he gave the other to Sati. ‘Practise, my Lady.’
Sati and Tarak stood at the centre of a circular stadium. This was not the main Rangbhoomi of Karachapa, which was gargantuan in its proportions. This one had been constructed next to the main stadium, for music concerts that the Mesopotamian immigrants in Karachapa loved. The arena was of the exact dimensions required for an agnipariksha. Not so big that a person could simply steer clear of the other contestant and not too small so that the combat would end fast. There were stands around the ground and a capacity crowd of over twenty thousand had come to watch the most important duel in Karachapa for the last five hundred years.
There was a prayer on every lip. Let Father Manu cause a miracle so that Princess Sati would win. Or at the very least, Eve. Both Tarak and Sati greeted each other with a namaste, repeating an ancient pledge to fight with honour. Then, turning to the statue of Lord Varun at the top of the main stand they bowed, asking for blessings from the God of the Water and the Seas. Jhooleshwar had vacated his ceremonial seat right below the statue of Lord Varun for Shiva. The governor sat to Shiva’s left with Ayurvati and Krittika to his left. Brahaspati and Parvateshwar sat to Shiva’s right. Nandi and Veerbhadra were in their now famiEar position, behind Shiva. A bird courier had been sent to Daksha the previous day, informing him of the duel. However, there wasn’t enough time to expect a reply.
At long last, Jhooleshwar stood up. He was nervous about the agnipariksha, but appeared composed. As per custom, he raised a balled fist to his heart and boomed: ‘Satya! Dharma! Maan!’ An invocation to Truth. Duty. Honour.
The rest of the stadium rang in agreement. ‘Satya! Dharma! Maan!’
Tarak and Sati echoed. ‘Satya! Dharma! Maan!’
Jhooleshwar nodded to the stadium keeper who lit the ceremonial oil lamp with the holy fire. The lamp spilled its fire on to the oil channel; the periphery of the central ground was aflame. The ring for the pariksha had been set.
Jhooleshwar turned to Shiva. ‘My Lord, your instructions to start the duel.’
Shiva looked at Sati with a confident smile. Then turning to the stadium, he declared loudly, ‘In the purifying fire of Lord Agni, truth will always triumph!’
Tarak and Sati immediately drew their knives. Tarak held his knife in front of him, like most traditional fighters. He had chosen a strategy that played to his strengths. Keeping his knife in front of him allowed him to strike the moment Sati came close. He did not stir too much, allowing Sati to make her moves in front of him.
Sati, breaking all known rules of combat, held her knife behind her. She shifted the knife continuously from one hand to the other, while keeping a safe distance from her opponent. The aim was to confuse Tarak about the direction of her attack. Tarak on the other hand was watching Sati’s movements like a hawk. He saw her right arm flex. The knife was now in her right hand.
Suddenly Sati leapt to the left. Tarak remained stationary. He knew that with her right hand holding the knife, the leftward movement was a feint. She would have to move to the right to bring her knife into play. Sure enough, Sati quickly moved to the right and brought in her arm up in a stabbing motion. Tarak was prepared. Shifting his knife quickly to his left arm, he slashed viciously, cutting Sati across her torso. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it appeared to hurt. A collective gasp went out from the audience.
