99 Palms: Horn OK Please (2 page)

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Authors: Kartik Iyengar

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“Wow! Just look at that massive dude!” exclaimed Goose as he went about taking pictures of the rock elephant.

“This rock elephant that emerges from the rock just above the inscription was probably meant to draw attention to the edict, and to serve as a symbol of peace and tranquility post the bloody war. Isn’t it?” Hound asked, wanting to test our flunkey’s knowledge. 

“Yes, Sir, elephants are frequently associated with Buddha. Kalinga, being one of the most important places for the transformation of Emperor Ashoka, it sports this rock edifice of an elephant as it depicts the form of Buddha. It is said that he assumed this form in a previous incarnation and entered his mother’s womb. The elephant is a sacred symbol of Buddhism”, replied Nitwit.

We stood in front of the Elephant rock, gazing at Nitwit in awe and reverence, for he seemed to be transfixed by the sheer size of the stone elephant, clutching his umbrella as though he were made of mud. It was windy now as we huddled around him, trying to find some space under his umbrella. It was drizzling and the drip of a tourist guide stood there in the rain, lost in a trance.

“Tell us more about those edicts of Ashoka, dude. Spare us the touristy shit. Tell us about the legends, you twit!” said Derek, placing his right hand on the flunkey’s shoulder. It made him puff up with pride.

“Then you’ll have to forget about this rain and give me time to speak. Let’s go, sit under the tree by the ruins over there. It’ll be more comfortable. Tourists don’t usually show interest in such stories, myths and legends, you see, Sir, for they are more interested in taking photographs and reading from cheap books. You’ll have to tip me nice, Sirs”, said Nitwit, evident that he’d found his four scapegoats for the day.

We shall cross his palm with silver for sure, but we decided to milk him dry of his knowledge. And then he taught us all that he seemed to know. He did know a lot, seemed to make up lots as well.

“Shoot! We’ll make your day, but make sure it is worth the money”, said Goose as we all made ourselves comfortable under a tree amidst the ruins of an era gone by. There were a lot of pebbles around us. The drizzling continued as each one of us was handed an umbrella by our benevolent Mr. Nitwit of a guide.

About Emperor Ashoka:

“Ashoka became Emperor in the year 269 BC. He inherited the empire founded by his grandfather, Chandragupta Maurya. Emperor Ashoka was a barbaric leader, a ruthless being and a merciless tyrant then. He killed ninety-nine of his own brothers to grab the throne. Eight years after his accession, he killed over a hundred thousand people right here in these killing fields of Kalinga…” said our guide as his pointed to the vast open field near the hill. His voice seemed to be coming from very far away. He knew he had our attention as well, not just our money.

“It is whispered that he possessed some strange and powerful weapons using which he took complete control of his kingdom. The river you see over there by the hill? That’s river Daya. It had turned red with blood from the killings. The killings were inhuman and Ashoka was invincible”, said Nitwit as I wondered what technology existed in those medieval times to make such destruction and killings possible.

Derek looked on intently at Nitwit as if taking mental notes. Hound was playing with the pebbles around his feet. He seemed busy searching for the perfect pebble as Nitwit spoke with knowledge. Derek and I were lost in Nitwit’s yarn. Goose was all ears once he’d kept the distraction of his camera aside.

“This war was fought between Mauryas and the State of Kalinga, a feudal republic that you now know as Orissa today. The armies of
Kalinga put up a stiff battle, but they were no match for Ashoka's brutality and advanced weaponry. It is said that Emperor Ashoka used missiles, rockets, slingshots, peashooters, yo-yos, nuclear, thermal and biological weapons to decimate the armies of Kalinga. The battle took place right here over the fields you see yonder, where more than one hundred thousand soldiers and civilians died. The soil turned bloody red after the battle. This is a cursed place…”

“True that. This place is sure cursed if countless people died. Add the two hundred bucks we are supposed to give you. But from where did such advanced weaponry come into being in those barbaric times?” Goose asked Nitwit with the innocence of a child.

“You mean we don’t live in barbaric times now?” Derek shot back.

“I cannot tell you that, I don’t know for sure, Sir. But I can tell you this much that Emperor Ashoka decimated the Kalinga army purely to expand his kingdom. It was greed and megalomania that drove him to butcher thousands. They must have had some dark magic and wicked sorcery to cause devastation of such magnitude. Our ancient civilizations were far more advanced than we can imagine today, Sir”, said Nitwit, distinctly over the top.

“OK, get back to facts, Nitwit, spare me the yarn”, said Hound, throwing a pebble at him. An imperfect pebble, for sure, for he was busily gathering more pebbles, continuing his hunt for the perfect pebble.

“OK. Ashoka’s father, Bindusara, had started this drive of colonial expansion from his home base in a place called Magadha. Since the State of Kalinga would not accept subservience to the Mauryan empire, Emperor Ashoka took it upon himself as the war of a lifetime to prove his worth.  After eight years of taking over the throne, he fought to win a battle that his grandfather and father seemed to have lost. They had failed to annex the state of Kalinga to the Mauryan empire. Bloody power hungry savages then! It is said that ten thousand of his army died in the battle. Everything was destroyed. That was the war of Kalinga. This was the ruthless face of Emperor Ashoka”, said Nitwit with obvious disgust that was evident on his face.

“The conquest of Kalinga was very important to for the Mauryas. Kalinga stood in the way of the southern routes from the Ganges and it was also a very powerful and rich, commercial port. It was the greed for money and lust for power that drove the Mauryas crazed”, said Derek, surprisingly attentive as he bowled us over with his bits of knowledge. He never failed to amaze us with his sudden bursts of intelligence.

Hound continued to be more interested in the pebbles as he seemed to be examining them very closely. He walked over to the ruins that lay beyond the tree and returned with a handful again.

“What are you doing, bro, collecting pebbles in case our GPS conks off?” I asked as I saw Hound distracted.

“Nothing, I’m listening intently to Nitwit. Keep going, I’ll tell you later”, said Hound as he continued examining the pebbles carefully.

“To mount the throne, the young Ashoka seemed to have killed ninety-nine of his own brothers. However, the Tibetan historian, Taranatha, mentions that he put six of his brothers to the sword. Six or ninety-nine, it still makes him a controversial tyrant then. All his brothers were born to different mothers for polygamy was a norm then. He was never the rightful heir to the throne of the Mauryas”, spoke Nitwit as he passed a personal verdict on historical facts.

“Was he really that cruel as the books say, Nitwit?” asked Derek curiously as he folded he umbrella back. It has stopped drizzling now. The clouds were still there, gray and overcast, and this would be just a temporary respite.

“Certain Buddhist scriptures state that Ashoka earned the title of ‘Chandasoka’ (Ashoka, The Cruel) after he burnt five hundred of his concubines for being disrespectful of his physical features. Sometimes, one wonders if all this is true or fabricated. Historians certainly tend to distort facts when they wish to portray the transformation of a cruel man to a saint overnight.
It was only in 269 BC when Emperor Ashoka considered his position to be secure on the throne that he had himself formally crowned with complete disregard for anything symbolic of life. He was the true bringer of death. Thousands or hundreds, Sir, that still makes him a very cruel man."

Aftermath - The Historic Kalinga War:

“So what really happened after the Kalinga war, Nitwit?” Goose quizzed him as he made himself comfortable on the ground, squatting under the tree. Hound was busy examining the pebbles on the ground. He had collected a neat pile of pebbles now.

Nitwit explained, “The blood, the gore and the mutilated corpses floating in the River and lying all over the battle field seemed to have a profound impact on Ashoka. After the war, when he surveyed his so-called victory zone, he just couldn’t fathom the magnitude of devastation he had caused. Children, women and men dead all over the place, he could only hear the wailings of helpless people that seemed to ring in his ears. Heartbroken by the sight of it all, he vowed never to fight again.”

“….And that’s how the benevolent Emperor was born….” said Hound, spitting on a pebble, cleaning it with his handkerchief. It seemed that he had finally found his soul-pebble.

It was past noon now and the sky was still gray and overcast. It was a far cry from when we had reached the Dhauli Hill in the morning when it was a bright, sunny day. Maybe, the topic was such that when the horrors of war of Kalinga are spoken, even the skies turn the tables.

“Ashola had deported over one hundred and fifty thousand civilians from their homes, rendered them homeless. He had killed thousands with no mercy. It was bound to haunt him for the rest of his life. Sorrow, remorse, guilt and shame got the better of him”, said Nitwit as he looked at the Rock Elephant from afar. Chief could sense the pain he was facing as he narrated the story.

“It is said that when Ashoka was roaming the streets of Kalinga post the aftermath, a woman approached him and yelled at him. She said that she had nothing to live for. She told Ashoka that he had taken away her father, her husband and her son during the war. He was moved to tears by these words. That’s when the real Emperor Ashoka was born to the Earth”, said Nitwit as though he were waiting for the gruesome story to end.

“You’ve heard about the rock edicts with I told you about before. After the conquest of Kalinga, he gave the world forty years of peace, prosperity and harmony. This is very clearly stated in the thirteenth edict.
The 13th Rock Edict describes in detail the horrors and miseries of the Kalinga war. It also describes the remorse. The thirteenth rock edict is the most important one. And therein lies a mystery” said Nitwit, obviously knowing that he yet again grabbed our wavering attention.

“What mystery? These rock edicts are just policies and guidelines for good human behavior. All thirty-four of these rock edicts that have so far been discovered talk about the same. What’s the big mystery, O’ Nitwit”? I asked in mock reverence.

“Well, Sir, the famous 13th Major Rock Edict that carries the remorse and pain caused to Ashoka after the Kalinga is not there in Kalinga itself. Look around you, is it there?” We looked around and all I could see was bushes and rocks. Everyone else seemed to be in the same boat as I was, yet all nodded as though that was the expected answer.

“In Kalinga, the 13th and the 14th rock edicts make no reference to the remorse of the war. They have been replaced by two separate edicts!” said Nitwit, grinning from ear to ear with glee.

“So, what does it mean? Tell us a bit more about these Rock edicts to us Rock Addicts?” quipped Derek as we saw Hound do yet another trip to the ruins close by, obviously out to pick his next handful of pebbles. We wondered what was wrong with him.

“Maybe, someone switched them. Some bounty hunter messed around the 13
th
Major Rock edict”, said Derek wryly, unaware today that this very place, this very stone would lead us to the Promised land very soon.

***

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

Roses are red and violets are blue,

Dreams are telepathic messages from afar, yes, it’s true;

Clues unravel in dreams while you are sleeping,

They weave together strange stories, silently creeping;

 

A sudden discovery, they resort to stealing,

They break barriers for greater good, forever unfeeling;

Scientists mess with science, many use it for purposes so evil,

No, you cannot play God ever, for you can be the Devil;

 

Megalomania, fame and untold riches, a bounty hunter’s bane,

99 Palms hold secrets for the undead, the imperfect and insane;

Some things are not to be known, dear reader,

Know this from the wise, Emperor Ashoka, a great leader;

 

Life with good health & a little money, one must cherish,

Stay cool & fulfill many desires before you perish;

Our undying spirit wants to make us shine bright,

Stay in the right, lest darkness stalk you at night;

 

Ashoka’s Major Rock Edicts stare at me, a silent scream,

The 13th Rock Edict holds a story, linked to my dream;

If smiles and Imagination make you say ‘Cheese’

Drive on, for that’s the philosophy of Horn OK Please…

***

The Secret of Dhauli Hill:

“Well, Emperor Ashoka is famous for leaving his diaries behind, inscribing everything about his life on stone walls and pillars the way you play around with your lives on the Facebook wall, Sirs. These inscriptions are either directed to the Buddhist order, which are very few  or are directed at the people at large, and they are there in majority. These instructions are what we call ‘rock edicts’. Beyond these two standard rock edicts known as ‘Major’ and ‘Minor’ rock edicts, there are two separate edicts in Kalinga. The 13
th
and the 14
th
major rock edicts are missing, disappeared or simply been substituted as Rock Edict 15th and 16h by someone. That’s the secret of Kalinga, that’s the secret of the Dhauli Hill!” said Nitwit, flapping his arms around excitedly as he pointed to the rocks.

So Derek had been right. A fluke, maybe, but still it had been a rare show of brilliance.

“What? Substituted? How can that be? Who would do that?” Goose spoke with mock surprise in his voice.

“Yes, Sir. As I said, the famous 13th Major Rock Edict that carries the remorse at the pain and suffering caused by the Kalinga is missing in Kalinga itself! The obvious question one would ask is why? What was the reason that Ashoka chose not to reveal his remorse in Kalinga? Did the war actually take place or was it a figment of imagination of some highly intelligent people? Did Ashoka not want the people of Kalinga to know how many people had died? His remorse? The contents of the Thirteenth Rock edict everywhere else are the same and they talk about these facts. Why was Kalinga omitted? Who ordered it? What did they originally contain if they did not talk about the remorse of Ashoka after the Kalinga war?” We remained quiet as Nitwit gave more dope to confuse us. It was evident that Nitwit was deeply upset by a missing piece of stone. It would have been awfully rude not to empathize with him then.

“All these inscriptions are composed in Prakrit and inscribed in Brahmi script. So far, as many as eight versions of these rock edicts have been discovered around the world, including one written in Greek. These rock edicts have been found all over Afghanistan, Pakistan, Andhra Pradesh, Gujrat, Maharashtra, Uttar Pradesh, but not a single version of the thirteenth edict has been found in Kalinga itself when the thirteenth edict is all about the Kalinga war. You tell me, shouldn’t there be a reason for all this?” Nitwit was already setting the stage on fire.

“Surely. How dare they not provide us a reason? We must take it up with the authorities” Said Hound busily studying his pebbles, mocking Nitwit.

Oblivious to Hound’s sarcastic remark, Nitwit went on, “Ashoka converted to Buddhism in remorse post Kalinga war, the inscriptions on the pillars described edicts about morality based on Buddhist tenets. Legend has it that Ashoka built 84,000 Stupas commemorating the events and relics of Buddha’s life. That’s what you get to see all over Ladakh or Sanchi, for instance. Some of these Stupas had networks of walls that were designed like hub spokes and rim of a wheel, while some Stupas were built around
Swastika
symbols”

“You mean, the hemispherical stupas are actually built on designs of wheels and Swastikas?” I asked as this was obviously something of interest.

“It is said that the wheel represents the Sun, Time, and Buddhist law known as the
‘Dharmachakra’
while the swastika is symbolic of the cosmic dance around a fixed center and guards against evil. What deep mystery these Stupas of the past hold? It is beyond my comprehension!” replied Nitwit, looking at the sky as he took a deep breath and continued, “We are only referring to our conclusions based on the existing set of discovered inscriptions, but there is always the possibility that more new inscriptions shall be discovered in the future. The Legend of Ashoka only deepens from here on as more inscriptions or edicts are discovered.”

 

This was good stuff, it was worth two hundred bucks. Maybe, this place held the key to some secret place filled with truckloads of money, I wondered.

“How many Stupas are there really? Why did Emperor Ashoka build them?” Goose asked, clearly intrigued by the very concept.

“Legend has it that Emperor Ashoka built 84,000 Stupas which are supposed to depict the 84,000 sections of Buddha’s Teachings. Now comes the interesting part. Ashoka had 84,000 boxes made of Gold, Silver, Cat’s Eye, and Crystal and in them he had the relics of Buddha placed. He also got 84,000 urns and 84,000 inscription plates made to be placed inside these Stupas. Some say that the 84,000 Stupas do not directly symbolize the Teachings, but are commemorative of the 84,000 atoms that traditionally were thought to make up a human body. They represent, therefore, the Buddha’s physical form. He wanted to complete the building of all these Stupas on the same day, at the same time within three years”, replied Nitwit as he could see the awe on our faces as Hound let out a slow whistle.

“You mean, this is all about the legendary treasures of Emperor Ashoka?” asked Hound, as the sound of money grabbed his attention.

“Yes, Sir. He also used to conduct a special ceremony referred to as the
Panchavarshika
every five years in which 300,000 monks were fed and 400,000 gold coins were distributed. Where did all this gold come from? Where did it all go?” asked Nitwit, looking at us expecting no answer from us.

He had a point. The amount of Gold and the fetish for gold the ancients had and we still seem to have is obviously not a joke. I made a note of this point to research upon later for this is bound to turn interesting. Nitwit was well worth the money spent.  The drizzling continued and we had lost track of time just listening to Nitwit talk. He sure had our interest. It was surprising to note just how many Stupas were built in record time by a tyrant-turned-saint overnight. It was such an incredible story that we just couldn’t afford to be ignorant, insensitive or disrespectful.

“Legend also has that Emperor Ashoka never died. In fact, he chartered an event where he managed to go beyond death. He was reborn, mutated into a new state from
Candasoka
to
Dharmasoka
. It is said that he had his own body wrapped in cotton up to his neck and limbs to his wrists and had himself soaked in five hundred pots of scented oil. Then facing the Mahastupa, he set himself on fire and remained on fire, in a state of meditation for seven days. While he did so, he went about his prayers to Buddha. Once done, he had a bath, decked himself in his ornaments and went about life as usual. Just that he had been re-born or transformed into a higher being” Nitwit closed his eyes for a moment as if trying to imagine what he had just said.

“An evolved being….the rebirth of a Great Emperor. The birth of pure good from pure evil”, I said, unable to hold back my thoughts.

There is a secret hidden from the World:

It was late afternoon now and we were completely glued to the story of Emperor Ashoka. This was not an ordinary tale or a yarn. Parts of historical facts may have been exaggerated or twisted, just as other historical tales, but here we were learning about a person far evolved beyond regular comprehension.

Even more intriguing was the fact that he had done a massive U-turn in life. From one end of the spectrum to another, surely, there would be many secrets that had yet to be discovered.

“And now I shall tell you the biggest mystery that exists on earth today. Legend has it that Emperor Ashoka knew of some terrible secrets when he went on a killing spree’. It is said that he was known to occult, magic, mysticism, dark arts and sciences and he had conquered all these spheres of evil to gain power and riches to rule the earth. Only after the Kalinga war when he evolved into one of the greatest Emperors on earth did he choose to do away with all these strange inventions, medicine, weapons and knowledge. Now, where did all this knowledge go? Was it ever recorded and kept? What about the source of his immense wealth that seemed endless during his youth? These secrets are supernatural. I do suspect they have been recorded and kept somewhere on earth…” Nitwit let his hands fly in exasperation as he spoke.

The wind had died down, the drizzling continued. The sound of an uneasy silence filled the air as I wondered if we could ever get hold of the lost treasure.

Entry of the Loony Fakir:

Just then, out of nowhere, a semi-naked fakir came through the bushes and waved his stick at us menacingly. A bony apparition of a man, the fakir sported a few-day old white stubble. He wore neither shoes nor slippers. His head covered by a turban, with one hand he held a stick and with the other, he held onto an urn. His waist sported a shred of white clothes, barely covering his genitals and madness. He must have been hundreds of years old.

With flaying, frail arms lifted in the air, pointing at the sky, he spoke in a croaking voice, “Beware the Nine unknown who are about to take your soul! They shall shatter your beliefs and faith. The 13th Rock Edict is not for you to know, they have taken it all away! ”

He dropped his stick and dipped his hand into the urn that he was holding with the other and scooped out some water. He started sprinkling the water on us and chanted something in a maniacal way, “May the Holy water save you. Begone! Demons of the earth! Leave them be! The secrets are not for you to know or, like the Great Emperor, your ashes shall be immersed in Ganga in less than twenty four hours after death!”

I sat rooted to the ground as we stared at the mad man. My blood froze with fear as we saw the mad man appear out of nowhere and abuse the shit out of us. This was not an everyday sight. He sounded worse than a corrupt traffic cop having pulled us over for no reason.

“Flee! Flee! There is still time! You shall never discover the secret for they will come down from the belly of the earth and take you away to hell! Their strange magic is not for you to fight. They shall show themselves from the depths of hell and shall haunt you in your sleep till you go insane! Beware the power of Nine! Flee! Flee!” hollered the Fakir.

“Let’s go from here. It’s close to sunset now and it’s about to rain. Strange people haunt the Kalinga battlefield. At night, strange things happen too. This Fakir is just a sample.” Said Nitwit, getting up, shaking with fear and obviously in a hurry to get going.

“You’re right. Let’s get out of here, this geriatric is getting on my nerves now”, I said as the others got up and started their ascent up the hillock, close to where we had parked Motormouth.

“Let’s go to the Hotel, Nitwit, we shall tip you well once we reach. Right now, we’d rather see you home safe and sound. You’re shaking like a leaf, surely you can give Elvis Presley competition” said, Goose guffawing, as he scrambled to reach the top.

“Please, Sir, take me back. I hope you have not taken even a grain of sand from this cursed place. It is an evil place. Please leave behind anything that you might have picked up and just run!” Nitwit’s face was already turning pale.

Derek threw the stick he was playing with while Goose patted his butt to leave the dust of Kalinga behind. I wasn’t carrying anything but I had a sneaking suspicion that Hound may not have been so obedient.

We could hear the Fakir scream and shout as we got into Motormouth and started the engine and drove back to Bhubaneshwar, back to our hotel without a stop.

It was night when we reached Bhubaneshwar. It was pouring cats and dogs as we reached the Hotel. Nitwit was very eager to get out, he was visibly shaken up to the core. We tipped him well as he left after giving us a piece of advice, “Sirs, I have told you more than I should have. It was my greed that made me tell you so much. Please forget whatever I may have told you!”

“Dude, you don’t suppose we swallow this load of cod you fed us all day?” Said Derek with a sardonic smile. Nitwit didn’t pay attention. He hastily took a piece of paper out of his pocket, wrote down a name and cell number and thrust it to me, “Here! This will come in handy. If something strange happens, meet Dr. Natalie Jackson. You will find her in Puri. Tell her you are my customers. Now I must go. Farewell!”

As we eased Motormouth into the parking lot, they could see Nitwit run like the wind as he disappeared into the night. He was a good man.

“My throat’s parched!” said Derek, evident that he needed a stiff drink to sober up after the heavy dose of reality today.

“Wait! Let me fix you guys a rare secret of a cocktail tonight. It’s a family secret. Game?” exclaimed Goose, as he gestured in mock, aristocratic style.

“What’s so special about it, Getafix? Sounds damn plain!” replied Hound, echoing our sentiments.

Picking up a bottle of Bacardi in one hand, a dozen chilled cans of Redbull in the other, Goose hissed, “Idiots, it’s an elegant concoction made out of Bacardi, Redbull and mint. It’s not about the ingredients, it’s the way one mixes it. I’m the alchemist when I shake it, my soul mixes with the spirit as I lend my energy to the process. You know it, you’ve had it many times before, you ungrateful pricks!” said Goose.

“Here’s the mint, you crazy son of a bitch! Whatever you do, don’t serve us anything that you yourself won’t drink”, retorted Derek, placing a bunch of mint leaves on the table as Hound went about setting the glasses.

I played the DJ as Linkin Pank played in the background. Within half an hour, Goose had played the Alchemist and transformed us into zombies. It was a heady concoction. Five shots down, the way we were supposed to drink it, we were floating in Paradise.

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