The Immortals of Meluha
Page 53
Shiva was different. Many years back, he had sworn that he would never run from a difficult situation. Even if there was absolutely nothing he could do. He hadn’t left Sati’s side for a moment. He sat patiently by her bed, waiting for her to recover. Hoping for her to recover. Praying for her to recover.
‘Shiva...’ a barely audible whisper broke the silence.
Shiva looked at Sati’s face. Her eyes were slightly open. Her hand had moved indiscernibly. He pulled his chair closer, careful not to touch her.
‘I’m so sorry,’ cried Shiva. ‘I should never have got us into this fight.’
‘No, no,’ murmured Sati. ‘You did the right thing. Someone had to make our stand. You have come to Meluha to lead us and to destroy evil. You did your duty.’
Shiva continued to stare at Sati, overcome by grief. Sati widened her eyes a bit, she was trying to take in as much of Shiva as she could, in what she knew were her last moments. Death is the ultimate destroyer of a soul’s aspirations. Ironically, it is usually the approach of this very destruction which gives a soul the courage to challenge every constraint and express itself. Express even a long-denied dream.
‘It is my time to go, Shiva,’ whispered Sati. ‘But before I go, I want to tell you that the last few months have been the happiest in my life.’
Shiva continued to look at Sati with moist eyes. His hands developed a life of their own and moved towards Sati. He checked himself in time.
‘I wish you had come into my life earlier,’ said Sati, letting out a secret that she hadn’t even acknowledged to herself. ‘My life would have been so different.’
Shiva’s eyes tried frantically to restrain themselves, struggling against the despair that needed an outlet.
‘I wish I had told you earlier,’ murmured Sati. ‘Because the first time that I am telling you will also probably be the last.’
Shiva looked on at her, his voice choked.
Sati looked deeply into Shiva’s eyes, whispering softly, ‘I love you.’
The dam broke and tears poured down Shiva’s grief-stricken face.
‘You are going to repeat these words for at least another hundred years,’ sobbed Shiva. ‘You are not going anywhere. I will fight the god of death himself, if I have to. You are not going anywhere.’
Sati smiled sadly and put her hand in Shiva’s. Her hand was burning. The fever had begun its assault.
CHAPTER 18
Sati and the Fire Arrow
‘Nothing can be done, my Lord,’ said a visibly uncomfortable Ayurvati.
She and Shiva were standing in a corner of the hut, at what they thought was a safe distance beyond the range of Sati’s ears. Parvateshwar was standing beside them, holding his tears back.
‘Come on, Ayurvati,’ urged Shiva. ‘You are the best doctor in the land. All we have to do is break the fever.’
‘This fever cannot be broken,’ reasoned Ayurvati. ‘There is no cure for the agnibaan poison. We are only lengthening Sati’s agony by keeping the fever low. The moment the medicines are stopped, the fever will recur with a vengeance.’
‘Let it go, Shiva,’ mumbled a frail voice from the bed. Everyone turned to stare at Sati. Her face bore a smile that comes only with the acceptance of the inevitable. ‘I have no regrets. I have told you what I needed to. I am content. My time has come.’
‘Don’t give up on me, Sati,’ cried Shiva. ‘You are not gone yet. We will find a way. I will find a way. Just bear with me.’
Sati gave up. She didn’t have the strength. She also knew that Shiva had to find his own peace with her death. And he wouldn’t find that unless he felt he had tried everything possible to save her.
‘I can feel my fever rising,’ said Sati. ‘Please give me the medicines.’
Ayurvati glanced at Sati uncomfortably. All her medical training told her that she shouldn’t do this. She knew that she was just increasing Sati’s suffering by giving her medicines. Sati stared hard at Ayurvati. She couldn’t give up now. Not when Shiva had asked her to hang on.
‘Give me the medicines, Ayurvatiji,’ repeated Sati. ‘I know what I am doing.’
Ayurvati gave Sati the medicines. She gazed into Sati’s eyes, expecting to find some traces of fear or anguish. There were none. Ayurvati smiled gently and walked back to Shiva and Parvateshwar.
‘I know!’ exclaimed Shiva. ‘Why don’t we give her the Somras?’
‘What effect will that have, my Lord?’ asked a surprised Ayurvati. ‘The Somras only works on the oxidants and increases a person’s lifespan. It doesn’t work on injuries.’
‘Look Ayurvati, I don’t think anyone truly understands everything about the Somras. I know you know that. What you don’t know is that the Somras repaired a frostbitten toe that I had lived with all my life. It also repaired my dislocated shoulder.’
‘What!’ said a visibly surprised Parvateshwar. ‘That’s impossible. The Somras does not cure physical disabilities.’
‘It did in my case.’
‘But that could also be because you are special, my Lord,’ said Ayurvati. ‘You are the Neelkanth.’
‘I didn’t drop from the sky, Ayurvati. My body is as human as Sati’s. As human as yours. Let’s just try it!’
Parvateshwar did not need any more convincing. He dashed out to find Vraka sitting on a stool. Vraka immediately rose and saluted his commander.
‘Vraka,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘The temple could still have some Somras powder. It was the main production centre of the area. I want that powder. Now’
‘You will have it in ten minutes, my Lord,’ boomed Vraka as he rushed off with his guards.
‘There is nothing else to do but wait,’ said Ayurvati as Sati fell asleep. The Somras had been administered — a stronger dose than usual. ‘Parvateshwar, you are tired. You need to recover from your wounds. Please go and sleep.’
‘I don’t need sleep,’ said Parvateshwar stubbornly. ‘I am staying on guard with my soldiers at the perimeter. You can’t trust those Chandravanshis. They may launch a counterattack at night.’
A frustrated Ayurvati glared at Parvateshwar, her belief reinforced that the machismo of the Kshatriyas made them impossible patients.
‘Are you going to bed, my Lord?’ asked Ayurvati, turning towards Shiva, hoping that at least he would listen. ‘There is nothing you can do now. We just have to wait. And you need the rest.’
Shiva just shook his head. Wild horses could not drag him away from Sati.
‘We could arrange a bed in this hut,’ continued Ayurvati. ‘You could sleep here if you wish so that you can keep an eye on Sati.’
‘Thank you, but I am not going to sleep,’ said Shiva, briefly looking at Ayurvati before turning towards Sati. ‘I am staying here. You go to sleep. I will call you if there is any change.’
Ayurvati glared at Shiva and then whispered, ‘As you wish, my Lord.’
A tired Ayurvati walked towards her own hut. She needed to get some rest since the next day would be busy. She would have to check the wounds of all the injured to ensure that recovery was proceeding properly. The first twenty-four hours were crucial. Her medical corps had been broken into groups to keep a staggered, all-night vigil for any emergencies.
‘Shiva...’ a barely audible whisper broke the silence.
Shiva looked at Sati’s face. Her eyes were slightly open. Her hand had moved indiscernibly. He pulled his chair closer, careful not to touch her.
‘I’m so sorry,’ cried Shiva. ‘I should never have got us into this fight.’
‘No, no,’ murmured Sati. ‘You did the right thing. Someone had to make our stand. You have come to Meluha to lead us and to destroy evil. You did your duty.’
Shiva continued to stare at Sati, overcome by grief. Sati widened her eyes a bit, she was trying to take in as much of Shiva as she could, in what she knew were her last moments. Death is the ultimate destroyer of a soul’s aspirations. Ironically, it is usually the approach of this very destruction which gives a soul the courage to challenge every constraint and express itself. Express even a long-denied dream.
‘It is my time to go, Shiva,’ whispered Sati. ‘But before I go, I want to tell you that the last few months have been the happiest in my life.’
Shiva continued to look at Sati with moist eyes. His hands developed a life of their own and moved towards Sati. He checked himself in time.
‘I wish you had come into my life earlier,’ said Sati, letting out a secret that she hadn’t even acknowledged to herself. ‘My life would have been so different.’
Shiva’s eyes tried frantically to restrain themselves, struggling against the despair that needed an outlet.
‘I wish I had told you earlier,’ murmured Sati. ‘Because the first time that I am telling you will also probably be the last.’
Shiva looked on at her, his voice choked.
Sati looked deeply into Shiva’s eyes, whispering softly, ‘I love you.’
The dam broke and tears poured down Shiva’s grief-stricken face.
‘You are going to repeat these words for at least another hundred years,’ sobbed Shiva. ‘You are not going anywhere. I will fight the god of death himself, if I have to. You are not going anywhere.’
Sati smiled sadly and put her hand in Shiva’s. Her hand was burning. The fever had begun its assault.
CHAPTER 18
Sati and the Fire Arrow
‘Nothing can be done, my Lord,’ said a visibly uncomfortable Ayurvati.
She and Shiva were standing in a corner of the hut, at what they thought was a safe distance beyond the range of Sati’s ears. Parvateshwar was standing beside them, holding his tears back.
‘Come on, Ayurvati,’ urged Shiva. ‘You are the best doctor in the land. All we have to do is break the fever.’
‘This fever cannot be broken,’ reasoned Ayurvati. ‘There is no cure for the agnibaan poison. We are only lengthening Sati’s agony by keeping the fever low. The moment the medicines are stopped, the fever will recur with a vengeance.’
‘Let it go, Shiva,’ mumbled a frail voice from the bed. Everyone turned to stare at Sati. Her face bore a smile that comes only with the acceptance of the inevitable. ‘I have no regrets. I have told you what I needed to. I am content. My time has come.’
‘Don’t give up on me, Sati,’ cried Shiva. ‘You are not gone yet. We will find a way. I will find a way. Just bear with me.’
Sati gave up. She didn’t have the strength. She also knew that Shiva had to find his own peace with her death. And he wouldn’t find that unless he felt he had tried everything possible to save her.
‘I can feel my fever rising,’ said Sati. ‘Please give me the medicines.’
Ayurvati glanced at Sati uncomfortably. All her medical training told her that she shouldn’t do this. She knew that she was just increasing Sati’s suffering by giving her medicines. Sati stared hard at Ayurvati. She couldn’t give up now. Not when Shiva had asked her to hang on.
‘Give me the medicines, Ayurvatiji,’ repeated Sati. ‘I know what I am doing.’
Ayurvati gave Sati the medicines. She gazed into Sati’s eyes, expecting to find some traces of fear or anguish. There were none. Ayurvati smiled gently and walked back to Shiva and Parvateshwar.
‘I know!’ exclaimed Shiva. ‘Why don’t we give her the Somras?’
‘What effect will that have, my Lord?’ asked a surprised Ayurvati. ‘The Somras only works on the oxidants and increases a person’s lifespan. It doesn’t work on injuries.’
‘Look Ayurvati, I don’t think anyone truly understands everything about the Somras. I know you know that. What you don’t know is that the Somras repaired a frostbitten toe that I had lived with all my life. It also repaired my dislocated shoulder.’
‘What!’ said a visibly surprised Parvateshwar. ‘That’s impossible. The Somras does not cure physical disabilities.’
‘It did in my case.’
‘But that could also be because you are special, my Lord,’ said Ayurvati. ‘You are the Neelkanth.’
‘I didn’t drop from the sky, Ayurvati. My body is as human as Sati’s. As human as yours. Let’s just try it!’
Parvateshwar did not need any more convincing. He dashed out to find Vraka sitting on a stool. Vraka immediately rose and saluted his commander.
‘Vraka,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘The temple could still have some Somras powder. It was the main production centre of the area. I want that powder. Now’
‘You will have it in ten minutes, my Lord,’ boomed Vraka as he rushed off with his guards.
‘There is nothing else to do but wait,’ said Ayurvati as Sati fell asleep. The Somras had been administered — a stronger dose than usual. ‘Parvateshwar, you are tired. You need to recover from your wounds. Please go and sleep.’
‘I don’t need sleep,’ said Parvateshwar stubbornly. ‘I am staying on guard with my soldiers at the perimeter. You can’t trust those Chandravanshis. They may launch a counterattack at night.’
A frustrated Ayurvati glared at Parvateshwar, her belief reinforced that the machismo of the Kshatriyas made them impossible patients.
‘Are you going to bed, my Lord?’ asked Ayurvati, turning towards Shiva, hoping that at least he would listen. ‘There is nothing you can do now. We just have to wait. And you need the rest.’
Shiva just shook his head. Wild horses could not drag him away from Sati.
‘We could arrange a bed in this hut,’ continued Ayurvati. ‘You could sleep here if you wish so that you can keep an eye on Sati.’
‘Thank you, but I am not going to sleep,’ said Shiva, briefly looking at Ayurvati before turning towards Sati. ‘I am staying here. You go to sleep. I will call you if there is any change.’
Ayurvati glared at Shiva and then whispered, ‘As you wish, my Lord.’
A tired Ayurvati walked towards her own hut. She needed to get some rest since the next day would be busy. She would have to check the wounds of all the injured to ensure that recovery was proceeding properly. The first twenty-four hours were crucial. Her medical corps had been broken into groups to keep a staggered, all-night vigil for any emergencies.
