The Secret of the Nagas (50 page)

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Authors: Amish Tripathi

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

BOOK: The Secret of the Nagas
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‘That is the last of the soldiers. What now?’

‘Please guard me,’ said Ganesh.

Ganesh walked into the clearing bearing a bag of seeds. Veerbhadra and Parshuram walked alongside, their weapons drawn, protecting his right and left flank.

They had been in the clearing for a few moments when a wild boar sauntered in. It was the largest boar Veerbhadra had ever seen. The animal stopped at a distance, staring at the humans, shuffling its front hoof, snorting softly. Parshuram turned to Ganesh. The animal was obviously gearing up to charge. The Naga continued to perform the task of scattering seeds on the ground as he nodded softly. Parshuram lunged and swung hard with his axe, cutting the boar’s head off in one clean sweep.

Veerbhadra was edging forward to help Parshuram, when Ganesh stopped him sharply. ‘You keep your eyes focussed on the other side, Veerbhadra. Parshuram is capable of handling this.’

Parshuram, meanwhile, continued to hack the beast’s body. He then pulled the fragmented parts of the boar’s corpse onto the road.

As Parshuram walked back, he explained to Veerbhadra. ‘That carcass will only attract other carnivores.’

Ganesh, meanwhile, had finished scattering all the seeds. He turned and walked back to the road, followed by Parshuram and Veerbhadra.

As soon as they entered the road, Veerbhadra spoke up. ‘That was one massive boar.’

‘Actually, that one was pretty small since it was young,’ said Ganesh. ‘Others in its pack would be much larger. You don’t want it to be close by when we are defending the road. A sounder of boars in this region can be vicious.’

Veerbhadra turned and looked at the hundred Branga soldiers waiting for them, holding their horses steady. He turned to Ganesh. ‘What now?’

‘Now we wait,’ said Ganesh, drawing his sword, his voice calm. ‘We have to protect this gateway till tomorrow morning. Kill everything that tries to enter.’

‘Only till tomorrow? Those bushes will not be full grown by then.’

‘Oh yes, they will.’

 

Veerbhadra was woken up by the loud snarls of a tiger. Some animal, perhaps a deer, had fallen victim to the mighty cat. He looked around. The jungle was waking up. The sun had just risen. Fifty soldiers were sleeping in front of him. Beyond them was the Naga road on which Shiva’s entourage had left the previous day.

Veerbhadra pulled his angvastram close around himself, breathing hard onto his hands. It was cold. He saw Parshuram next to him, sleeping soundly, snoring, his mouth slightly open.

Veerbhadra raised himself on his elbows and turned around. The other fifty soldiers were standing guard, their swords drawn. They had taken over from their fellow soldiers at midnight.

‘Ganesh?’

‘Out here, Veerbhadra,’ said Ganesh.

Veerbhadra walked forward as the guards parted to reveal the Lord of the People. Veerbhadra was stunned.

‘By the holy lake,’ said Veerbhadra. ‘The bushes have grown back completely. It’s almost as if they had never been cut.’

‘The road is protected completely now. We can ride out. Half a day’s hard riding and we will catch up with the rest.’

‘Then what are we waiting for?’

 

‘You should ask him,’ said Veerbhadra to Krittika.

It had been a month of uneventful marching through the Sundarban. Despite the mammoth size of the convoy, they were making good progress. Krittika had slipped back from the centre of the convoy to ride with her husband at the rear. She was enjoying her conversations with Ganesh and had grown increasingly fond of the elder son of her mistress.

Ganesh, whose horse was keeping pace with Veerbhadra’s and Krittika’s, turned. ‘Ask me what?’

‘Well,’ said Krittika. ‘Veerbhadra tells me that you weren’t too surprised to hear that Emperor Daksha may have killed Lord Chandandhwaj.’

Parshuram pulled his horse up to fall in line with the others. Curious.

‘Did you know?’ asked Krittika.

‘Yes.’

Krittika stared hard at Ganesh’s face, trying to glean some traces of hate and anger. There were none. ‘Do you not feel the need for vengeance? A sense of injustice?’

‘I feel no need for vengeance or justice, Krittika,’ said Ganesh. ‘Justice exists for the good of the universe. To maintain balance. It does not exist to ignite hatred among humans. Furthermore, I do not have the power to administer justice to the Emperor of Meluha. The universe does. It will deliver justice when it is appropriate. In this life or in the next.’

Parshuram interjected. ‘But wouldn’t vengeance make you feel better?’

‘You got your vengeance, didn’t you?’ asked Ganesh to Parshuram. ‘Did you really feel better?’

Parshuram took a deep breath. He didn’t.

‘So you don’t want anything to be done to Daksha?’ asked Veerbhadra.

Ganesh narrowed his eyes. ‘I simply don’t care.’

Veerbhadra smiled. Parshuram frowned at Veerbhadra’s reaction.

‘What?’ asked Parshuram.

‘Nothing much,’ said Veerbhadra. ‘Just that I have finally understood something Shiva had told me once. That the opposite of love is not hate. Hate is just love gone bad. The actual opposite of love is apathy. When you don’t care a damn as to what happens to the other person.’

 

‘The food is delicious,’ said Shiva, smiling.

It had been two months since Shiva’s men had marched out of the floating Sundari grove. They had just entered the dreaded Dandak forests. The road had ended in a giant clearing, capable of accommodating many more than Shiva’s band of travelling men. As was the Naga custom, groups of people were eating their dinner together on giant plates.

Kali smiled. ‘The forest has everything that we need.’

Sati patted Ganesh on the back. He rode separately from the rest of the family, so Sati enjoyed the common dinners where she got to talk to her elder son. ‘Is the food all right?’

‘Perfect, Maa,’ smiled Ganesh.

Ganesh turned to Kartik and slipped a mango to his younger brother. Kartik, who rarely smiled these days, looked at his elder brother with affection. ‘Thank you, dada.’

Bhagirath looked up at Kali. He couldn’t contain himself any longer. ‘Your Highness, why are there five roads leading out of this clearing?’

‘I was wondering how you had kept yourself from asking that question up until now!’

Everyone turned to Kali.

‘Simple. Four of those paths lead you deeper and deeper into the Dandak. To your doom.’

‘Which path is the right one?’ asked Bhagirath.

‘I will tell you tomorrow morning, when we leave.’

‘How many such clearings are there, Kali?’ asked Shiva.

Kali’s lips drew in a broad smile. ‘There are five such clearings on the way to Panchavati, Shiva.’

‘Lord Ram be merciful,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘That means there is only a one in three thousand chance of marching down the right path to Panchavati!’

‘Yes,’ smiled Kali.

Anandmayi was grinning. ‘Well, we better hope you don’t forget the right path, Your Highness!’

Kali smiled. ‘Trust me, I won’t.’

 

Kali looked at Shiva, Sati and Nandi riding a little ahead of her. Shiva had just said something which made Sati and Nandi crack up in laughter. Then the Neelkanth turned to Nandi and winked.

Kali turned to Ayurvati. ‘He has the gift.’

They were marching at the centre of the convoy to Panchavati. It had been three months since the march from the Madhumati river. Deep in the Dandak now, the march had been surprisingly uneventful and probably a little tedious. Conversations were the only relief from the boredom.

‘What gift?’ asked Ayurvati.

‘Of bringing peace to people, drawing out their unhappiness,’ said Kali.

‘That he does,’ said Ayurvati. ‘But it is one of his many gifts.
Om Namah Shivaiy
.’

Kali was surprised. The Meluhan doctor had just corrupted an old mantra. The words
Om
and
Namah
were only added to the names of the old gods, never living men.

The Queen of the Nagas turned to gaze at Shiva, riding ahead. And smiled. Sometimes, simple faith could lead to profound peace.

Kali repeated Ayurvati’s line. ‘
Om Namah Shivaiy
.’

The universe bows to Lord Shiva. I bow to Lord Shiva.

Ayurvati turned towards Kartik riding a little behind. The boy, a few months older than four, looked like a nine-year-old. He presented a disturbing sight. Scars were visible on his arms and face. Two long swords tied in a cross across his back, no sign of a shield. His eyes were focussed beyond the fence, searching for threats.

Kartik had become withdrawn after the day his elder brother had saved him single-handedly from the lions, nearly dying in the process. He rarely spoke, except to his parents, Krittika and Ganesh. He almost never smiled. He always accompanied hunting parties into the jungle. Many a times, he had brought down animals single-handedly. Awed soldiers had given Ayurvati graphic details of Kartik moving in for the kill: Quiet, focussed and ruthless.

Ayurvati sighed.

Kali, who had developed a strong bond with Ayurvati over the months since they had left Kashi, whispered, ‘I think you should be happy he has taken the right lessons from life.’

‘He is a child,’ said Ayurvati. ‘He has many years to go before he grows up.’

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