The Secret of the Nagas
Page 17
‘We cannot allow this to happen, Ayurvati,’ said Shiva. ‘We cannot!’
‘I know, My Lord.’
‘Then think of something. You are Ayurvati, the best doctor in the world!’
‘I have only one solution in mind, My Lord,’ said Ayurvati. ‘But I don’t even know if it would work.’
‘The Somras?’ asked Shiva.
‘Do you agree?’
‘Yes. Let’s try it.’
Ayurvati rushed off to find her assistants.
Shiva turned towards Sati, worried. He knew how close Sati was to her Pitratulya. Her obvious misery would also impact their unborn child. ‘He’ll be all right. Trust me.’
‘Where is the damn Somras?’ asked an agitated Shiva.
‘I’m sorry, My Lord,’ said Athithigva. ‘But we don’t really have large quantities of the Somras. We don’t keep any at the ayuralay.’
‘It’s coming, My Lord,’ assured Ayurvati. ‘I have sent Mastrak to my quarters for some.’
Shiva snorted in frustration and turned towards Parvateshwar’s room. ‘Hang on, my friend. We will save you. Hang on.’
Mastrak came in panting, holding a small wooden bottle. ‘My lady!’
‘You’ve prepared it correctly?’
‘Yes, my lady.’
Ayurvati rushed into Parvateshwar’s room.
Parvateshwar was lying on a bed in the far corner. Mastrak and Dhruvini, Ayurvati’s assistants, sat at the bedside, rubbing the juice of neem leaves under his nails. There was a pumping apparatus attached to the General’s nose in order to ease his breathing.
‘The haemorrhaging has stopped, My Lord,’ said Ayurvati. ‘He is not getting worse.’
The vision of the apparatus attached to the General’s nose shook Shiva. To see a man such as Parvateshwar in this helpless state was too much for him. ‘Then why is that apparatus required?’
‘The bleeding has harmed the parts of his brain that control his breathing, My Lord,’ said Ayurvati, in the calm manner she always willed herself into when faced with a medical crisis. ‘Parvateshwar cannot breathe on his own. If we remove this apparatus, he will die.’
‘Then why can’t you repair his brain?’
‘I told you, My Lord, a brain surgery cannot be done while the patient is unconscious. It is too risky. I may injure some other vital function with my instruments.’
‘The Somras...’
‘It has stopped the bleeding, My Lord. He is stable. But it doesn’t appear to be healing his brain.’
‘What do we do?’
Ayurvati remained silent. She didn’t have an answer. At least an answer that was practical.
‘There must be a way.’
‘There is one remote possibility, My Lord,’ said Ayurvati. ‘The bark of the Sanjeevani tree. It is actually one of the ingredients in the Somras. A very diluted ingredient.’
‘Then why don’t we use that?’
‘It is very unstable. The bark disintegrates very rapidly. It has to be taken from a live Sanjeevani tree and used within minutes.’
‘Then find a...’
‘It doesn’t grow here, My Lord. It grows naturally in the foothills of the Himalayas. We have plantations in Meluha. But getting it could take months. By the time we return with the bark, it would have disintegrated.’
There has to be a way! Holy lake, please find me a way!
‘Your Highness,’ said Nandi, who had been promoted from the rank of Captain.
‘Yes, Major Nandi,’ said Bhagirath.
‘Can you come with me please?’
‘Where?’
‘It’s important, Your Highness.’
Bhagirath thought it was odd that Nandi wanted him to leave the ayuralay at a time when Parvateshwar was fighting for his life. But he knew that Nandi was the Neelkanth’s close friend. More importantly, he also knew that Nandi was a level-headed man. If he was asking him to go somewhere, it would be important.
Bhagirath followed.
Bhagirath could not hide his surprise as Nandi took him to the Branga building.
‘What is going on, Major?’
‘You must meet him,’ said Nandi.
‘Who?’
‘Me,’ said a tall, dark man stepping out of the structure. His long hair was neatly oiled and tied in a knot. His eyes were doe-shaped, his cheekbones high. He had a clear complexion. His lanky frame was draped in a white starched dhoti, with a cream angvastram thrown over his shoulder. His face bore the look of a man who had seen too much sadness for one lifetime.
‘Who are you?’
‘I am Divodas. The chief of the Brangas here.’
Bhagirath gritted his teeth. ‘The General saved all your sorry hides. And your men have brought him to the brink of death!’
‘I know, Your Highness. My men thought the General would have stopped us from saving our children. It was a genuine mistake. Our most sincere apologies.’
‘You think your apology is going to save his life?’
‘It will not. I know that. He has saved my entire tribe from a certain death. He has saved my wife and unborn child. It is a debt that must be repaid.’
The mention of payment made Bhagirath even more livid. ‘You think your filthy gold will get you out of this? Mark my words, if anything happens to the General, I will personally come here and kill every single one of you. Every single one!’
Divodas kept quiet. His face impassive.
‘Your Highness,’ said Nandi. ‘Let us hear him out.’
Bhagirath grunted in an irritated manner.
‘Gold means nothing, Your Highness,’ said Divodas. ‘We have tonnes of it back home. It still cannot buy us out of our suffering. Nothing is more important than life. Nothing. You realise the simplicity of that point only when you confront death every day.’
Bhagirath didn’t say anything.
‘General Parvateshwar is a brave and honourable man. For his sake, I will break the vow I took on the name of my ancestors. Even if it damns my soul forever.’
Bhagirath frowned.
‘I am not supposed to share this medicine with anyone who is not Branga. But I will give it to you for the General. Tell your doctor to apply it on his temple and nostrils. He will live.’
Bhagirath looked suspiciously at the small silk packet. ‘What is this?’
‘You don’t need to know what it is, Your Highness. You just need to know one thing. It will save General Parvateshwar’s life.’
‘What is this?’
Ayurvati was looking at the silk pouch Bhagirath had just handed over to her.
‘That doesn’t matter,’ said Bhagirath. ‘Just apply it on his temples and nostrils. It may save his life.’
Ayurvati frowned.
‘Lady Ayurvati, what is the harm in trying?’ asked Bhagirath.
Ayurvati opened the pouch to find a reddish-brown thick paste. She had never seen anything like it. She smelt the paste and immediately looked up at Bhagirath, stunned. ‘Where did you get this?’
‘That doesn’t matter. Use it.’
Ayurvati kept staring at Bhagirath. She had a hundred questions running through her mind. But she had to do the most obvious thing first. She knew this paste would save Parvateshwar.
‘I know, My Lord.’
‘Then think of something. You are Ayurvati, the best doctor in the world!’
‘I have only one solution in mind, My Lord,’ said Ayurvati. ‘But I don’t even know if it would work.’
‘The Somras?’ asked Shiva.
‘Do you agree?’
‘Yes. Let’s try it.’
Ayurvati rushed off to find her assistants.
Shiva turned towards Sati, worried. He knew how close Sati was to her Pitratulya. Her obvious misery would also impact their unborn child. ‘He’ll be all right. Trust me.’
‘Where is the damn Somras?’ asked an agitated Shiva.
‘I’m sorry, My Lord,’ said Athithigva. ‘But we don’t really have large quantities of the Somras. We don’t keep any at the ayuralay.’
‘It’s coming, My Lord,’ assured Ayurvati. ‘I have sent Mastrak to my quarters for some.’
Shiva snorted in frustration and turned towards Parvateshwar’s room. ‘Hang on, my friend. We will save you. Hang on.’
Mastrak came in panting, holding a small wooden bottle. ‘My lady!’
‘You’ve prepared it correctly?’
‘Yes, my lady.’
Ayurvati rushed into Parvateshwar’s room.
Parvateshwar was lying on a bed in the far corner. Mastrak and Dhruvini, Ayurvati’s assistants, sat at the bedside, rubbing the juice of neem leaves under his nails. There was a pumping apparatus attached to the General’s nose in order to ease his breathing.
‘The haemorrhaging has stopped, My Lord,’ said Ayurvati. ‘He is not getting worse.’
The vision of the apparatus attached to the General’s nose shook Shiva. To see a man such as Parvateshwar in this helpless state was too much for him. ‘Then why is that apparatus required?’
‘The bleeding has harmed the parts of his brain that control his breathing, My Lord,’ said Ayurvati, in the calm manner she always willed herself into when faced with a medical crisis. ‘Parvateshwar cannot breathe on his own. If we remove this apparatus, he will die.’
‘Then why can’t you repair his brain?’
‘I told you, My Lord, a brain surgery cannot be done while the patient is unconscious. It is too risky. I may injure some other vital function with my instruments.’
‘The Somras...’
‘It has stopped the bleeding, My Lord. He is stable. But it doesn’t appear to be healing his brain.’
‘What do we do?’
Ayurvati remained silent. She didn’t have an answer. At least an answer that was practical.
‘There must be a way.’
‘There is one remote possibility, My Lord,’ said Ayurvati. ‘The bark of the Sanjeevani tree. It is actually one of the ingredients in the Somras. A very diluted ingredient.’
‘Then why don’t we use that?’
‘It is very unstable. The bark disintegrates very rapidly. It has to be taken from a live Sanjeevani tree and used within minutes.’
‘Then find a...’
‘It doesn’t grow here, My Lord. It grows naturally in the foothills of the Himalayas. We have plantations in Meluha. But getting it could take months. By the time we return with the bark, it would have disintegrated.’
There has to be a way! Holy lake, please find me a way!
‘Your Highness,’ said Nandi, who had been promoted from the rank of Captain.
‘Yes, Major Nandi,’ said Bhagirath.
‘Can you come with me please?’
‘Where?’
‘It’s important, Your Highness.’
Bhagirath thought it was odd that Nandi wanted him to leave the ayuralay at a time when Parvateshwar was fighting for his life. But he knew that Nandi was the Neelkanth’s close friend. More importantly, he also knew that Nandi was a level-headed man. If he was asking him to go somewhere, it would be important.
Bhagirath followed.
Bhagirath could not hide his surprise as Nandi took him to the Branga building.
‘What is going on, Major?’
‘You must meet him,’ said Nandi.
‘Who?’
‘Me,’ said a tall, dark man stepping out of the structure. His long hair was neatly oiled and tied in a knot. His eyes were doe-shaped, his cheekbones high. He had a clear complexion. His lanky frame was draped in a white starched dhoti, with a cream angvastram thrown over his shoulder. His face bore the look of a man who had seen too much sadness for one lifetime.
‘Who are you?’
‘I am Divodas. The chief of the Brangas here.’
Bhagirath gritted his teeth. ‘The General saved all your sorry hides. And your men have brought him to the brink of death!’
‘I know, Your Highness. My men thought the General would have stopped us from saving our children. It was a genuine mistake. Our most sincere apologies.’
‘You think your apology is going to save his life?’
‘It will not. I know that. He has saved my entire tribe from a certain death. He has saved my wife and unborn child. It is a debt that must be repaid.’
The mention of payment made Bhagirath even more livid. ‘You think your filthy gold will get you out of this? Mark my words, if anything happens to the General, I will personally come here and kill every single one of you. Every single one!’
Divodas kept quiet. His face impassive.
‘Your Highness,’ said Nandi. ‘Let us hear him out.’
Bhagirath grunted in an irritated manner.
‘Gold means nothing, Your Highness,’ said Divodas. ‘We have tonnes of it back home. It still cannot buy us out of our suffering. Nothing is more important than life. Nothing. You realise the simplicity of that point only when you confront death every day.’
Bhagirath didn’t say anything.
‘General Parvateshwar is a brave and honourable man. For his sake, I will break the vow I took on the name of my ancestors. Even if it damns my soul forever.’
Bhagirath frowned.
‘I am not supposed to share this medicine with anyone who is not Branga. But I will give it to you for the General. Tell your doctor to apply it on his temple and nostrils. He will live.’
Bhagirath looked suspiciously at the small silk packet. ‘What is this?’
‘You don’t need to know what it is, Your Highness. You just need to know one thing. It will save General Parvateshwar’s life.’
‘What is this?’
Ayurvati was looking at the silk pouch Bhagirath had just handed over to her.
‘That doesn’t matter,’ said Bhagirath. ‘Just apply it on his temples and nostrils. It may save his life.’
Ayurvati frowned.
‘Lady Ayurvati, what is the harm in trying?’ asked Bhagirath.
Ayurvati opened the pouch to find a reddish-brown thick paste. She had never seen anything like it. She smelt the paste and immediately looked up at Bhagirath, stunned. ‘Where did you get this?’
‘That doesn’t matter. Use it.’
Ayurvati kept staring at Bhagirath. She had a hundred questions running through her mind. But she had to do the most obvious thing first. She knew this paste would save Parvateshwar.
