The Secret of the Nagas (21 page)

Read The Secret of the Nagas Online

Authors: Amish Tripathi

Tags: #Fiction, #Shiva (Hindu Deity), #India, #Mythology; Indic

BOOK: The Secret of the Nagas
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‘What I think doesn’t matter. I want to hear your interpretation. Why do you think it was wrong for you to run away?’

Shiva looked down, fidgeting with his skirt. His brow was throbbing madly. ‘Because it feels wrong to me.’

The uncle smiled. ‘That is the answer. It feels wrong, because what you did was against your karma. You don’t have to live with the woman’s karma. What she did was her choice. You have to live with your own karma.’

Shiva looked up.

‘It is your karma to fight evil. It doesn’t matter if the people that evil is being committed against don’t fight back. It doesn’t matter if the entire world chooses to look the other way. Always remember this. You don’t live with the consequences of other people’s karma. You live with the consequences of your own.’

Shiva nodded slightly.

‘Does that hurt?’ asked the uncle, pointing at the blackish-red blotch on Shiva’s brow, right between his eyes.

Shiva pressed it hard. The pressure provided some relief. ‘No. But it burns. It burns a lot.’

‘Especially when you are upset?’

Shiva nodded.

The uncle reached into his coat and pulled out a small pouch. ‘This is a very precious medicine. I have carried it for a long time. And I feel you are the correct person to receive it.’

Shiva took the pouch. Opening it, he found a reddish-brown thick paste inside. ‘Will it make the burning go away?’

The uncle smiled. ‘It’ll set you on the path of your destiny.’

Shiva frowned. Confused.

Pointing towards the gargantuan Himalayas extending beyond the Mansarovar, the uncle continued. ‘My child, your destiny is much larger than these massive mountains. But in order to realise it, you will have to cross these very same massive mountains.

The uncle didn’t feel the need to explain any more. He took some of the reddish-brown paste and applied it on Shiva’s brow, in a neat vertical line, up from between his eyes to his hair line. Shiva felt immediate relief as his brow cooled down. Then the uncle applied some paste around Shiva’s throat. He took the remaining portion of the medicine and placed it in Shiva’s right palm. Then he cut his finger lightly and dropped a little bit of blood into the paste, whispering, ‘We will never forget your command, Lord Rudra. This is the blood oath of a Vayuputra.’

Shiva looked at his uncle and then down at his palm, which cradled the strange reddish-brown paste mixed with his uncle’s blood.

‘Put it at the back of your mouth,’ said the uncle. ‘But don’t swallow it. Massage it with your tongue till it gets absorbed.’

Shiva did that.

‘Now you are ready. Let fate choose the time.’

Shiva didn’t understand. But he felt the relief the medicine gave. ‘Do you have any more of this medicine?’

‘I have given you all that I have, my child.’

 

‘The Vasudevs had the Naga medicine?’ asked a shocked Sati.

She had intended to speak to Shiva about the disturbing conversation with her father in the morning. She was still stunned that a back-up manufacturing facility for the Somras existed and that no one knew about it. But that was immediately forgotten on seeing Shiva’s enraged face.

‘I have been misled. They are probably in alliance with the Nagas! Can’t you trust anyone in this country?’

Something within Sati told her that the Vasudevs couldn’t be evil. It didn’t add up. ‘Shiva, are you probably jumping to...’

‘Jumping? Jumping to conclusions?’ glared Shiva. ‘You know what Ayurvati said. That medicine could only be made in Naga lands. We know how the Brangas got it. They are being blackmailed. What is the explanation for the Vasudevs? They needed the Nagas to build their temples?’

Sati kept quiet.

Shiva walked up to the window and stared hard at the Vishwanath temple. For some strange reason, he could hear his inner voice repeating the same thought.
Stay calm.
Don’t jump to conclusions.

Shiva shook his head.

‘I’m sure the Vasudevs would have assumed that you would figure out where the medicine came from,’ said Sati. ‘So there can be only two explanations as to why the Vasudevs gave it to you.’

Shiva turned around.

‘Either they are stupid. Or they think the safe birth of your son is so important that they are willing to risk your anger.’

Shiva frowned.

‘From what I have gathered from you, I don’t think they are stupid,’ said Sati. ‘That leaves us with only one choice. They think that if anything happened to our son, you would be so devastated that it would harm their cause against evil.’

Shiva chose silence.

 

The Naga Lord of the People sat on his chair in his personal chambers, right next to the window. He could hear the songs of the choir that paraded the streets of Panchavati at this time of the evening, once a week. The Queen had wanted to ban the sad songs they sang. She despised them as defeatist. But the Naga
Rajya Sabha
, the elected
Royal Council
, had voted against her move, allowing the songs to continue.

The song triggered powerful emotions in the Naga, but he held them within.

You were my world, my God, my creator,

And yet, you abandoned me.

I didn’t seek you, you called me,

And yet, you abandoned me.

I honoured you, lived by your rules, coloured myself in your colours,

And yet, you abandoned me.

You hurt me, you deserted me, you failed in your duties,

And yet, I am the monster.

Tell me Lord, what can I...

‘Disgusting song,’ said the Queen, interrupting the Naga’s thoughts. ‘Shows our weakness and our attachments!’

‘Mausi,’ said the Naga as he rose. ‘I didn’t hear you come in.’

‘How could you? These nauseating songs drown out the world. Drown out any positive thought.’

‘Vengeance is not a positive thought, Your Highness,’ smiled the Naga. ‘Also the choir does sing happy songs as well.’

The Queen waved her hand. ‘I have something more important to discuss.’

‘Yes, Mausi.’

The Queen took a deep breath. ‘Did you meet the Vasudevs?’

The Naga narrowed his eyes. He was surprised that it had taken the Queen so long to find out. ‘Yes.’

‘Why?’ asked the Queen, barely restraining her temper.

‘Your Highness, I believe we can use their help.’

‘They will never support us. They may not be our enemies. But they will never be our friends!’

‘I disagree. I think we have a common enemy. They will come to our side.’

‘Nonsense! The Vasudevs are fanatic purveyors of an ancient legend. Some foreigner with a blue throat is not going to save this country!’

‘But another foreigner with a beaded beard saved this country once, didn’t he?’

‘Don’t compare this tribal to the great Lord Rudra. This country is probably fated for destruction. All India has given us is pain and sorrow. Why should we care?’

‘Because whatever it may be, it is our country too.’

The Queen grunted angrily. ‘Tell me the real reason why you gave them our medicine. You know it is in short supply. We have to send the annual quota to the Brangas. I am not breaking my word. They are the only decent people in this wretched land. The only ones who don’t want to kill us all.’

‘The quota of the Brangas will not be affected, Your Highness. I have only given my personal share.’

‘In the holy name of Bhoomidevi, why? Have you suddenly started believing in the Neelkanth too?’

‘What I believe doesn’t matter, Your Highness. What matters is that the people of India believe.’

The Queen stared hard at the Naga. ‘That is not the real reason.’

‘It is.’

‘DON’T LIE TO ME!’

The Naga kept quiet.

‘You did it for that vile woman,’ stated the Queen.

The Naga was disturbed, but his voice remained calm. ‘No. And at least you shouldn’t speak of her that way, Your Highness.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because besides me, you are the only one who knows the truth.’

‘Sometimes I wish I didn’t!’

‘It’s too late for that now.’

The Queen sniggered. ‘It’s true that the gods don’t give all abilities to one person. You truly are your own worst enemy.’

 

Daksha was sitting on the ground. He had been shocked at the unscheduled appearance of Maharishi Bhrigu in Devagiri. The Emperor of Meluha had not sought an audience with the sage.

Bhrigu looked down hard at Daksha, deeply unhappy. ‘You disobeyed a direct command, Your Highness.’

Daksha remained quiet, head bowed low.
How did the Maharishi get to know? Only Sati, Veerini and I had been in on the conversation. Is Veerini spying on me? Why is everyone against me? Why me?

Bhrigu stared at Daksha, reading his thoughts. The sage always knew that Daksha was weak. But the Emperor had never dared disobey a direct order. Furthermore, Bhrigu didn’t really give that many orders. He was concerned about only one thing. On all other matters, he let Daksha do whatever he liked.

‘You have been made Emperor for a reason,’ said Bhrigu. ‘Please don’t make me question my judgement.’

Daksha kept quiet, scared.

Bhrigu bent down and turned Daksha’s face up. ‘Did you also tell her the location, Your Highness?’

Daksha whispered softly. ‘No, My Lord. I swear.’

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