The Immortals of Meluha
Page 57
Parvateshwar glared angrily at Daksha, upset that he served an Emperor who held the law in such low esteem.
‘It breaks my heart that I cannot give my daughter the happy life that she deserves,’ sobbed Daksha. ‘That I cannot save her from the humiliation that a good soul like her suffers daily. What I can do, though, is ask you for help.’
Sati looked at her father with loving eyes.
‘You are the Neelkanth,’ continued Daksha. ‘In fact you are more than that. I genuinely believe you are a Mahadev, even though I know you don’t like to be called that. You are above the law. You can change the law if you wish. You can override it if you want.’
An aghast Parvateshwar glowered at Daksha. How could the Emperor be so dismissive of the law? Then his eyes fell on Shiva. His heart sank further.
Shiva was staring at Daksha with undisguised delight. He had thought that he would have to convince the Emperor about Sati. But here he was, quite sure that the Emperor was about to offer his daughter’s hand to him.
‘If you decide to take my daughter’s hand, my Lord, no power on earth can stop you,’ contended Daksha. ‘The question is: do you want to?’
All the emotions in the universe surged through Shiva’s being. His face bore an ecstatic smile. He tried to speak but his voice was choked. He bent down, picked up Sati’s hand gently brought it to his lips and kissed it lovingly. He looked up at Daksha and whispered, ‘I will never let go of her. Never.’
A stunned Sati stared at Shiva. She had dared to love over the last week, but had not dared to hope. And now her wildest dream was coming true. She was going to be his wife.
An overjoyed Daksha hugged Shiva tightly and softly said, ‘My Lord!’
Veerini was sobbing uncontrollably. The unfairness done to Sati all her life had been set right. She looked up at Daksha, almost willing to forgive him. Ayurvati and Kanakhala entered the room and congratulated the Emperor, the Queen, Shiva and Sati. Nandi, Krittika and Veerbhadra, who had heard the entire conversation, expressed their joy. Parvateshwar stood rooted near the door, furious at such disregard for Lord Ram’s way.
Shiva, at long last, regained control of himself. Firmly gripping Sati’s hand, he looked at Daksha, ‘But your Highness, I have a condition.’
‘Yes, my Lord.’
‘The vikarma law...’
‘It doesn’t need to be changed, my Lord,’ said Daksha. ‘If you decide to marry my daughter, then the law cannot stop you.’
‘All the same,’ said Shiva. ‘That law must be changed.’
‘Of course, it will be my Lord,’ said a beaming Daksha. Turning towards Kanakhala, he continued, ‘Make a proclamation to be signed by the Neelkanth, saying that from now on any noble woman who gives birth to a still-born child will not be classified as vikarma.’
‘No, your Highness,’ interrupted Shiva. ‘That is not what I asked. I want the entire vikarma law scrapped. Nobody will be a vikarma from now on. Bad fate can strike anyone. It is ridiculous to blame their past lives for it.’
Parvateshwar looked at Shiva in surprise. Though he did not like even a comma being changed in any of Lord Ram’s laws, he appreciated that Shiva was remaining true to a fundamental cannon of Lord Ram’s principles — the same law applies to everybody, equally and fairly, without exceptions.
Daksha however looked at Shiva in shock. This was unexpected. Like all Meluhans, he too was superstitious about the vikarma. His displeasure was not with the vikarma law itself but with his daughter being classified as one. But he quickly recovered and said, ‘Of course, my Lord. The proclamation will state that the entire vikarma law has been scrapped. Once you sign it, it will become law.’
‘Thank you, your Highness,’ smiled Shiva.
‘My daughter’s happy days are starting again,’ exulted Daksha, turning to Kanakhala. ‘I want a grand ceremony at Devagiri when we return. A wedding the likes of which the world has not seen before. The most magnificent wedding ever. Call in the best organisers in the land. I want no expense spared.’
Daksha turned to look at Shiva for affirmation. Shiva looked at Sati to admire her joyous smile and glorious dimples. Turning towards Daksha, he said, ‘All I want, your Highness, is to get married to Sati. I wouldn’t mind the simplest ceremony in the world or the most magnificent. As long as all of you, Brahaspati and the Gunas are present, I will be happy’
‘Excellent!’ rejoiced Daksha.
CHAPTER 19
Love Realised
There was an air of celebration in Devagiri when the royal caravan arrived three weeks later. Kanakhala, who had arrived in Devagiri earlier, ensured that all the preparations for the most-eagerly awaited wedding in a millennium had been accomplished. Her arrangements, as always, had been impeccable.
The various wedding ceremonies and celebrations had been spread over seven days, each day with an exuberant variety of events. By the usually sober Suryavanshi standards, the city had been decorated extravagantly. Colourful banners hung proudly from the city walls, splashing festive beauty on the sober grey exteriors. The roads had been freshly tiled in the sacred blue colour. All the restaurants and shops served their customers free of charge for the seven days of revelry, subsidised at state expense. All the buildings had been freshly painted at government cost to make Devagiri appear like a city that had settled the previous day.
A massive channel had been rapidly dug along the far side of the Saraswati where a part of the river had been diverted. The channel was in the open in some parts and went underground in others. Filters injected a red dye into the water as soon as it entered the channel and removed it just as efficiently when the water flowed back into the river. The channel formed a giant Swastika, an ancient symbol which literally translates to ‘that which is associated with well-being’ or very simply, a lucky charm. From any of the three city platforms, a Meluhan could look in reverence at the enormous impression of the revered Swastika in the royal red Suryavanshi colour formed by the flow of the holy Saraswati. Some of the protective giant spikes around the entry drawbridges of the three platforms had been cleared. In their stead, giant rangolis, visible from miles away, had been drawn to welcome all into the capital. Kanakhala had wanted to clear all the spikes surrounding Devagiri, but Parvateshwar had vetoed it, citing security reasons.
Elite families from across the empire had been invited to attend the festivities. People of distinction ranging from governors to scientists, generals to artists and even sanyasis had trooped into Devagiri to celebrate the momentous occasion. Ambassadors of eminent countries, such as Mesopotamia and Egypt, had been given permits for a rare visit to the capital of Meluha. Jhooleshwar had cannily used the distinctive honour granted to ambassadors to wrangle some additional trade quotas. Brahaspati had come down from Mount Mandar with his retinue. Only a skeletal security staff of Arishtanemi soldiers had been left behind at the mountain. It was the first time in history that seven days would elapse at Mount Mandar without any experiments!
The first day had two pujas organised in the name of Lord Indra and Lord Agni. They were the main gods for the people of India and their blessings were sought before any event. And an event as momentous as the wedding of the millennium could only begin with their sanction. This particular puja, however, celebrated their warrior form. Daksha eloquently explained the reason. The Meluhans were not just celebrating the marriage between the Neelkanth and their princess. They were also celebrating the massive defeat of the despised terrorists at Koonj. According to him, the echoes of Koonj would reverberate deep in the heart of Swadweep. The Suryavanshi vengeance had begun!
‘It breaks my heart that I cannot give my daughter the happy life that she deserves,’ sobbed Daksha. ‘That I cannot save her from the humiliation that a good soul like her suffers daily. What I can do, though, is ask you for help.’
Sati looked at her father with loving eyes.
‘You are the Neelkanth,’ continued Daksha. ‘In fact you are more than that. I genuinely believe you are a Mahadev, even though I know you don’t like to be called that. You are above the law. You can change the law if you wish. You can override it if you want.’
An aghast Parvateshwar glowered at Daksha. How could the Emperor be so dismissive of the law? Then his eyes fell on Shiva. His heart sank further.
Shiva was staring at Daksha with undisguised delight. He had thought that he would have to convince the Emperor about Sati. But here he was, quite sure that the Emperor was about to offer his daughter’s hand to him.
‘If you decide to take my daughter’s hand, my Lord, no power on earth can stop you,’ contended Daksha. ‘The question is: do you want to?’
All the emotions in the universe surged through Shiva’s being. His face bore an ecstatic smile. He tried to speak but his voice was choked. He bent down, picked up Sati’s hand gently brought it to his lips and kissed it lovingly. He looked up at Daksha and whispered, ‘I will never let go of her. Never.’
A stunned Sati stared at Shiva. She had dared to love over the last week, but had not dared to hope. And now her wildest dream was coming true. She was going to be his wife.
An overjoyed Daksha hugged Shiva tightly and softly said, ‘My Lord!’
Veerini was sobbing uncontrollably. The unfairness done to Sati all her life had been set right. She looked up at Daksha, almost willing to forgive him. Ayurvati and Kanakhala entered the room and congratulated the Emperor, the Queen, Shiva and Sati. Nandi, Krittika and Veerbhadra, who had heard the entire conversation, expressed their joy. Parvateshwar stood rooted near the door, furious at such disregard for Lord Ram’s way.
Shiva, at long last, regained control of himself. Firmly gripping Sati’s hand, he looked at Daksha, ‘But your Highness, I have a condition.’
‘Yes, my Lord.’
‘The vikarma law...’
‘It doesn’t need to be changed, my Lord,’ said Daksha. ‘If you decide to marry my daughter, then the law cannot stop you.’
‘All the same,’ said Shiva. ‘That law must be changed.’
‘Of course, it will be my Lord,’ said a beaming Daksha. Turning towards Kanakhala, he continued, ‘Make a proclamation to be signed by the Neelkanth, saying that from now on any noble woman who gives birth to a still-born child will not be classified as vikarma.’
‘No, your Highness,’ interrupted Shiva. ‘That is not what I asked. I want the entire vikarma law scrapped. Nobody will be a vikarma from now on. Bad fate can strike anyone. It is ridiculous to blame their past lives for it.’
Parvateshwar looked at Shiva in surprise. Though he did not like even a comma being changed in any of Lord Ram’s laws, he appreciated that Shiva was remaining true to a fundamental cannon of Lord Ram’s principles — the same law applies to everybody, equally and fairly, without exceptions.
Daksha however looked at Shiva in shock. This was unexpected. Like all Meluhans, he too was superstitious about the vikarma. His displeasure was not with the vikarma law itself but with his daughter being classified as one. But he quickly recovered and said, ‘Of course, my Lord. The proclamation will state that the entire vikarma law has been scrapped. Once you sign it, it will become law.’
‘Thank you, your Highness,’ smiled Shiva.
‘My daughter’s happy days are starting again,’ exulted Daksha, turning to Kanakhala. ‘I want a grand ceremony at Devagiri when we return. A wedding the likes of which the world has not seen before. The most magnificent wedding ever. Call in the best organisers in the land. I want no expense spared.’
Daksha turned to look at Shiva for affirmation. Shiva looked at Sati to admire her joyous smile and glorious dimples. Turning towards Daksha, he said, ‘All I want, your Highness, is to get married to Sati. I wouldn’t mind the simplest ceremony in the world or the most magnificent. As long as all of you, Brahaspati and the Gunas are present, I will be happy’
‘Excellent!’ rejoiced Daksha.
CHAPTER 19
Love Realised
There was an air of celebration in Devagiri when the royal caravan arrived three weeks later. Kanakhala, who had arrived in Devagiri earlier, ensured that all the preparations for the most-eagerly awaited wedding in a millennium had been accomplished. Her arrangements, as always, had been impeccable.
The various wedding ceremonies and celebrations had been spread over seven days, each day with an exuberant variety of events. By the usually sober Suryavanshi standards, the city had been decorated extravagantly. Colourful banners hung proudly from the city walls, splashing festive beauty on the sober grey exteriors. The roads had been freshly tiled in the sacred blue colour. All the restaurants and shops served their customers free of charge for the seven days of revelry, subsidised at state expense. All the buildings had been freshly painted at government cost to make Devagiri appear like a city that had settled the previous day.
A massive channel had been rapidly dug along the far side of the Saraswati where a part of the river had been diverted. The channel was in the open in some parts and went underground in others. Filters injected a red dye into the water as soon as it entered the channel and removed it just as efficiently when the water flowed back into the river. The channel formed a giant Swastika, an ancient symbol which literally translates to ‘that which is associated with well-being’ or very simply, a lucky charm. From any of the three city platforms, a Meluhan could look in reverence at the enormous impression of the revered Swastika in the royal red Suryavanshi colour formed by the flow of the holy Saraswati. Some of the protective giant spikes around the entry drawbridges of the three platforms had been cleared. In their stead, giant rangolis, visible from miles away, had been drawn to welcome all into the capital. Kanakhala had wanted to clear all the spikes surrounding Devagiri, but Parvateshwar had vetoed it, citing security reasons.
Elite families from across the empire had been invited to attend the festivities. People of distinction ranging from governors to scientists, generals to artists and even sanyasis had trooped into Devagiri to celebrate the momentous occasion. Ambassadors of eminent countries, such as Mesopotamia and Egypt, had been given permits for a rare visit to the capital of Meluha. Jhooleshwar had cannily used the distinctive honour granted to ambassadors to wrangle some additional trade quotas. Brahaspati had come down from Mount Mandar with his retinue. Only a skeletal security staff of Arishtanemi soldiers had been left behind at the mountain. It was the first time in history that seven days would elapse at Mount Mandar without any experiments!
The first day had two pujas organised in the name of Lord Indra and Lord Agni. They were the main gods for the people of India and their blessings were sought before any event. And an event as momentous as the wedding of the millennium could only begin with their sanction. This particular puja, however, celebrated their warrior form. Daksha eloquently explained the reason. The Meluhans were not just celebrating the marriage between the Neelkanth and their princess. They were also celebrating the massive defeat of the despised terrorists at Koonj. According to him, the echoes of Koonj would reverberate deep in the heart of Swadweep. The Suryavanshi vengeance had begun!
