AJAYA - RISE OF KALI (Book 2) (38 page)

“Brother, I do my
karma
without attachment, free from its results. The destruction of evil is my duty. I do not relish violence, but I do what is necessary.”

“A convenient argument, Krishna, and a recipe for a heartless world. It is a
mantra
for a conscienceless society.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Krishna, a tyrant can unleash a pogrom and say it is his duty as a ruler to cleanse his kingdom. We can justify any violence in the name of duty and
dharma.
Any war can be justified as both sides consider they are following their
dharma
in butchering each other. Even a bandit can claim that robbing is his
dharma.”

“Brother, he who performs action without worrying about the results is sinless. Those who perform actions with passion should be ready for the bitter or sweet fruits of those actions.”

“That is an even more dangerous argument. Is misery the result of the
karma
of the miserable? Then compassion would have no meaning.”

“You do not understand, my brother, because your eyes have yet to see the vision of divinity.”

“Krishna, such ideas can only create a callous and indifferent society. If someone is wretched, it can be explained away as the result of some past action, if not in this life then in some other birth. Why help the miserable and get entangled in their
karma?”

“Brother, you have taken my words too literally – it was just an allegory.”

“Krishna, allegory is an old trick of philosophers and prophets. Their words are like scattered clouds in the sky, according to one’s power of imagination, one can see any shape in the clouds. Allegory is a safe bet for prophets and Gurus. When caught, they can claim that was not the right meaning. If you want to say something, why not say it in plain language, without ambiguity?”

“Hear it then, brother. I allude to men like Duryodhana, who are deluded by their evil desires. Their passionate actions cause misery.”

“So desire and passion are the greatest evils of man?”

“Brother, by desiring an object, attachment is born. From attachment, wrath is born. From wrath comes want of discrimination. From want of discrimination arises ruination of intelligence. From loss of intelligence springs loss of understanding, and then man is ruined.”

“Krishna, from desire, life is born. From attachment, love. From passion, beauty. From compassion, humanity. Desire is the very foundation of nature.”

“Desire is the offspring of a base nature. Duryodhana is the epitome of
tamo guna.
Such men claim life is created from lust. They are deluded by ignorance and tossed about by a million thoughts.”

“Thoughts are what make a man, Krishna.”

“The right thoughts, brother. Men like Duryodhana can only sink into a foul hell. They are wedded to vanity, power, pride, lust and wrath. In every life, they repeat the same mistakes and their path spirals down and down instead of up and up.”

“Krishna, if you are the Supreme Soul hurling these unfortunate men and women into demonic wombs, how are they to blame? By your own admission,
you
have made them that way.”

“There are three qualities in nature, brother –
satva, rajo
and
tamo.
All three are present in all of us. But it depends which one we nourish.
Satva
is the quality of light, knowledge and equanimity;
rajo
is the quality of bravery, chivalry and power; and
tamo
is passion and desire.”

“Show me one person who is not passionate about something.”

“Yudhishtra.”

“Ah, the man who gambled away his wife. Was it because he was detached about her or the kingdom he wanted to win by dicing?”

“Yudhishtra is a true yogi, a man of knowledge. I have to protect such men, who follow the right path.”

“But you have not answered my question, Krishna. I fail to see the Pandavas as detached yogis or seekers of knowledge. They appear to be nothing more than seekers of power.”

“Brother, you have chosen to close your eyes to the truth. The Pandavas are my devotees. They have chosen the path of
bhakti.
They regard me as the highest object of attainment and worship me with devotion. I am their deliverer from the ocean of this sad world. I give you this great
mantra
as well, the path of yoga and the imperishable system of devotion. I declared it to Vivaswat eons ago and he declared it to Manu, who passed it to Ishvaku, and so it has reached this age.”

“You are talking about Kings of the distant past, but you live today, Krishna. You are even younger than me.”

“Many births of mine have passed. Many lifetimes of yours have passed too. I know it, you do not.”

“I do not understand your words, Krishna, how will others do so?”

“Then know that I am the Unborn. I am the Lord of all creatures. Whenever there is loss of piety and evil men like Duryodhana rise to power, I am born, again and again, age after age, for the protection of the righteous and the destruction of evil; to establish piety and devotion to God.”

“Krishna, you are merely deluding yourself. I have known you since the day of your birth,” Balarama said, shaking his head in amusement at the thought of his naughty little brother being the saviour of the world.

Krishna smiled. “Brother, I am offering the human race the chance of redemption from misery. He who knows this truth will achieve
moksha.
He will not be born again but become one with me. Forsaking everything, let my devotees come to me as their sole refuge and I will deliver them from all sin. Surrender to me with complete devotion.”

“Krishna,” Balarama said, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “the world is indifferent to the petty travails of men. The search of an individual for self or God, within or without, is an insignificant event for the universe.”

“Brother, many who have believed in me have been freed of attachment and passion. In whatever manner people come to me, I accept them. All paths lead to me. Your path too.”

“Why should one seek God and try to escape from this beautiful world? Why exchange a hypothetical
moksha
for the real world?
Jagat satyam, Brahma mithya.”

Balarama had many questions for his brother but before he could voice any of them, Krishna said, “To those who worship me in any form, I give gifts and preserve what they deserve to have. Even if they revere other Gods and worship me irregularly, I bless them. But since their devotion is incomplete, they take birth again and again, after enjoying a place in heaven. Do everything as an offering to me. That way, you will be detached from your actions and come to me. Brother, know that even if a wicked person worships me alone, he is regarded as good.”

“If you are the Supreme Being, indifferent to the results of your actions, why are you so obsessed with whether someone worships you or not? And you say worshipping you will redeem any sin?”

Krishna ignored the incredulity in his brother’s voice. “None devoted to me is lost, even if they are sinful. Even women, Vaishyas and Shudras can attain
moksha
if they worship me. In this transient and miserable world, be engaged in my worship. Fix your mind on me, be my devotee, bow to me, take refuge in me and you shall come to me.”

“Who are you, Krishna?”

“Brother Balarama, you do not know who you are or who I am. You are infinity,
ananta.
But I am beyond infinity. We are one, yet we are different. The difference lies in realization.”

“Whoever you are, Krishna, you are bringing war and death to thousands,” Balarama said, his shoulders drooping in defeat.

Krishna’s eyes looked at Balarama but gazed beyond him. “Know that I created the universe at the beginning of
kalpa.
As all creatures who take birth, live and die, the universe, too, has a lifespan. This is not the first universe you are living in, nor will it be the last. I will destroy it when the time comes and create a new one. That, too, will be destroyed in due course. This cycle will continue eternally. I only perform my
karma
here, detached. It does not affect me.”

“Everyone has to eat the fruits of
karma,
Krishna. It does not matter whether the actions were performed passionately or in a detached fashion. We still have to eat the bitter fruit. Now, brother will fight brother. You have encouraged it. War will come, Krishna, and then none of these fancy words will help. I am afraid of what will come...”

“Brother, you do not know me and my Supreme nature as Lord of all entities. Ignorant people disregard me. I am the Supreme Soul and I have assumed this human body. Only noble souls know me, they glorify and bow to my divinity.”

“Is that Duryodhana’s sin – that he does not bow to you? If you are indeed the Supreme Soul, why not gift him understanding and devotion? Why bring death and misery to innocents who have nothing to do with either of you? Why not destroy the evil man alone, instead of dragging all of Bharatavarsha into a war?” Balarama asked his brother.

“I am the Father and Mother of the universe, and I am the Creator. I am Immortality. I am Death. I am that by which this universe is held. I am the life force, the source of evolution and dissolution. There is nothing greater than me. I am Om.”

“Krishna, what has happened to you, my brother?” Balarama cried.

“He who knows me as the Supreme Lord of the worlds, without birth and beginning, is free of all sin. Behold my glory of a thousand splendid suns. Behold my infinite energy. I have no beginning, middle or end. Behold my blazing radiance and many-hued eyes.”

Balarama watched in horrified silence.

“I am Death, the destroyer of worlds. Behold the sight of the sons of Dhritarashtra, Bhishma, Drona and the great warriors from both sides entering the mouth of Time. See how their heads are crushed, their limbs torn apart. Behold the future and the spectre of the past. Behold me for I am TIME.”

“Krishna...” Balarama’s voice shook. “Because of your actions I fear something terrible will befall Dwaraka. That is the law of
karma,
the law of the universe. It does not spare any man, even an
avatar.”
Balarama turned away. He had lost the argument. There was nothing left for an ignorant and deluded man like him to argue about. He did not have the intellect to understand the divine song of God. Outside, the ocean had turned blue-black, like the colour of his brother’s skin. The waters beat restlessly against the rocks.

“I am TIME...” Krishna’s voice echoed in Balarama’s ears and fear of the future chilled his heart.

*****

47
   
T
HE
S
ONG
OF
M
AN

BALARAMA’S GAZE ALIGHTED ON THE YOKE
in one corner of the small room. There was a time when, as a young man, he had carried it over his shoulder every day, to teach his people about agriculture and irrigation. He caressed its woody contours and then placed it on his shoulder, feeling its familiar weight. He would walk through the dusty streets of Bharata, from the Himalayas in the north to the city of Devi, where the three seas met in the south. He yearned to lose himself in the vastness of the land, far from the madness of men and their calls for
dharmayudha.

Balarama heard someone behind him and turned. Duryodhana’s daughter stood in the doorway, tall and graceful. Ever since she had arrived in Dwaraka, following her marriage to Krishna’s renegade son, she had been a silent presence in the palace, much like the shadows that graced its walls at night.

Lakshmana spoke softly. “Uncle, why are you leaving us?”

Balarama looked at her sorrowfully. “I do not know, daughter.”

“May I accompany you?”

Balarama was tempted to ask what her husband would say. Samba was unpredictable and dangerous.

“My husband will not even notice,” Lakshmana said, as if reading his mind.

“Daughter, the path will be too rough for a Princess’s soft feet.”

“It would be an honour to walk barefoot with you.”

“It will be a very long walk, daughter. People may jeer or throw stones at us.”

“I am not afraid.”

Balarama smiled as he ran his fingers over his now bald head.

“Someone else wants to come with us, too,” Lakshmana said.

Valsala, his beautiful daughter, stepped out of the shadows and touched her father’s feet. “Take me too, Father.”

“But Abhimanyu?” Balarama asked.

“His new bride, Uttara, is beautiful. He has no time for me now.”

Balarama’s heart ached for his child as she rested her head on his chest. He put his arms around her gently, wishing he could protect her forever.

“I wronged Lakshmana Kumara, Father. Now, I am tasting the fruits of my own
karma.
Uncle Krishna was not to blame. I was blinded by my love for Abhimanyu and we compelled him to help us. That is why it happened. Look at us now. Abhimanyu and I rarely see each other and when we do, silence is the only language we speak.”