With that, the aristocratic woman turned around to leave. Krittika continued to stare at Shiva with admiring eyes.
However, on seeing her mistress leaving, she too turned hurriedly to follow.
‘At least tell me your name,’ said Shiva, walking to keep pace with her.
She turned around, staring even more gravely at Shiva.
‘Look, how will I find you if I need your help?’ asked Shiva sincerely.
For a moment, she was out of words or a glare. The request seemed reasonable. She turned towards Krittika and nodded.
‘You can find us at Devagiri,’ answered Krittika. ‘Ask anyone in the city for Lady Sati.’
‘Sati...,’ said Shiva, letting the ethereal name roll over his tongue. ‘My name is Shiva.’
‘Namaste, Shiva. And I promise you, I will honour my word if you ever need my help,’ said Sati as she turned and climbed into her chariot, followed by Krittika.
Expertly turning the chariot, Sati urged her horses into a smooth trot. Without a backward look she sped away from the temple. Shiva kept staring at the disappearing profile of the chariot. Once it was gone, he continued to stare at the dust with intense jealousy. It had been fortunate enough to have touched her.
I think I’m going to like this country.
For the first time in the journey, Shiva actually looked forward to reaching the capital city of the Meluhans. He smiled and started towards the rest house.
Have to get to Devagiri quickly.
CHAPTER 4
Abode of the Gods
‘What! Who attacked you?’ cried a concerned Nandi as he rushed towards Shiva to check his wounds.
‘Relax Nandi,’ replied Shiva. ‘You are in worse shape than I am after your adventure in the water. It’s just a few superficial cuts. Nothing serious. The doctors have already dressed the wounds. I am alright.’
‘I am sorry, my Lord. It’s entirely my fault. I should never have left you alone. It will never happen again. Please forgive me, my Lord.’
Pushing Nandi gently back on to the bed, Shiva said, ‘There’s nothing to forgive, my friend. How can this be your fault? Please calm down. Getting overworked will not do your health any good.’
Once Nandi had calmed down a bit, Shiva continued, ‘In any case, I don’t think they were trying to kill us. It was very strange.’
‘Us?’
‘Yes, there were two women involved.’
‘But who could these attackers be?’ asked Nandi. Then a disturbing thought dawned on Nandi. ‘Did the attackers wear a pendant with a crescent moon on it?’
Shiva frowned. ‘No. But there was this one strange man. The best swordsmen of them all. He was covered from head to toe in a hooded robe, his face veiled by a mask, the kind I’ve seen you people wear at that colour festival. What is it called?’
‘Holi, my Lord?’
‘Yes, the holi kind of mask. In any case, you could only see his eyes and his hands. His only distinguishing feature was a leather bracelet with a strange symbol on it’
‘What symbol, my Lord?’
Picking up a palm-leaf booklet and the thin charcoal writing-stick from the side table, Shiva drew the symbol.
Nandi frowned. ‘That is an ancient symbol that some people used for the word Aum. But who would want to use this symbol now?’
‘Aum?’ asked Shiva.
‘My Lord, Aum is the holiest word in our religion. It is considered to be the primeval sound of nature. The hymn of the universe. It was so holy that for many millennia, most people would not insult it by putting it down in written form.’
‘Then how did this symbol come about?’
‘It was devised by Lord Bharat, a great ruler who had conquered practically all of India many thousands of years ago. He was a rare Chandravanshi who was worth respecting and had even married a Suryavanshi princess with the aim of ending our perpetual war.’
‘Who are the Chandravanshis?’ asked Shiva.
‘Think of them as the very antithesis of us, my Lord. They are the followers of the kings who are the descendants of the moon.’
‘And they follow the lunar calendar?’
‘Yes, my Lord. They are a crooked, untrustworthy and lazy people with no rules, morals or honour. They are cowards and never attack like principled Kshatriyas. Even their kings are corrupt and selfish. The Chandravanshis are a blot on humanity!’
‘But what does the Aum symbol have to do with this?’
‘Well, King Bharat came up with this symbol of unity between the Suryavanshis and the Chandravanshis. The top half in white represented the Chandravanshis.
The bottom half in red represented the Suryavanshis.
The part in orange coming out of the meeting of these two parts represented the common path.
The crescent moon to the right of the symbol was the existing Chandravanshi symbol.
And the sun above it was the existing Suryavanshi symbol.
To signify that this was a pact blessed by the gods, Lord Bharat got a mandate for the pronunciation of this symbol as the holy word Aum.’
‘And then what happened?’
‘As expected, the pact died with the good king. Once the influence of Lord Bharat was gone, the Chandravanshis were up to their old ways and the war began once again. The symbol was forgotten. And the word Aum reverted to its original form of a word without a written representation.’
‘But the symbol on the bracelet of this hooded man was not coloured. It was all black. And the parts of the symbol didn’t look like lines to me. They looked like a drawing of three serpents.’
‘Naga!’ exclaimed a shocked Nandi, before mumbling a soft prayer and touching his Rudra pendant for protection.
‘Now who the bloody hell are the Nagas?’ asked Shiva.
‘They are cursed people, my Lord,’ gasped Nandi. ‘They are born with hideous deformities because of the sins of their previous births. Deformities like extra hands or horribly misshapen faces. But they have tremendous strength and skills. The Naga name alone strikes terror in any citizen’s heart. They are not even allowed to live in the Sapt Sindhu.’
‘The Sapt Sindhu?’
‘Our land, my Lord, the land of the seven rivers. The land of the Indus, Saraswati, Yamuna, Ganga, Sarayu, Brahmaputra and Narmada. This is where Lord Manu mandated that all of us, Suryavanshis and Chandravanshis, live.’
Shiva nodded as Nandi continued. ‘The city of the Nagas exists to the south of the Narmada, beyond the border of our lands. In fact, it is bad luck to even speak of them, my Lord!’
‘But why would a Naga attack me? Or any Meluhan for that matter?’
Cursing under his breath, Nandi said, ‘Because of the Chandravanshis! What levels have these two-faced people sunk to? Using the demon Nagas in their attacks! In their hatred for us, they don’t even realise how many sins they are inviting on their own souls!’
Shiva frowned. During the attack, it hadn’t appeared that the Naga was being used by the small platoon of soldiers. In fact, it looked to him like the Naga was the leader.
It took another week for them to reach Devagiri. The capital city of the Meluhans stood on the west bank of the Saraswati, which emerged at the confluence of the Sudej and Yamuna rivers. Sadly, the Saraswati’s flow was severely reduced compared to her once mighty size. But even in her abbreviated state, she was still massive and awe-inspiring. Unlike many of the tempestuous rivers of the Punjab, the Saraswati was achingly calm. The river seemed to sense that her days were coming to an end. Yet, she did not fight aggressively to thrust her way through and survive. Instead, she unselfishly gave her all to those who came to seek her treasures.
The soaring Devagiri though, was in complete contrast to the mellow Saraswati. Like all Meluhan cities, Devagiri too was built on giant platforms, an effective protection against floods and a sturdy defence against enemies. However, where Devagiri was different from other Meluhan cities was in its sheer size. The city sprawled over three giant platforms, each of them spread
ing over three hundred and fifty hectares, significantly larger than other cities. The platforms were nearly eight metres high and were bastioned with giant blocks of cut stone interspaced with baked bricks. Two of the platforms, named Tamra and Rajat, literally, bronze and silver, were for the common man, whereas the platform named Svarna or gold was the royal citadel. The platforms were connected to each other by tall bridges, made of stones and baked bricks, which rose above the flood plains below.
Along the periphery of each enormous platform were towering city walls, with giant spikes facing outwards. There were turrets at regular intervals along the city walls from where approaching enemies could be repelled. This spectacle was beyond anything that Shiva had ever seen. In his mind, the construction of a city like this must truly be man’s greatest achievement.
Shiva’s entourage rode up to the drawbridge across the field of spikes to the Tamra platform. The drawbridge had been reinforced with metal bars at the bottom and had roughened baked bricks laid out on top so that horses and chariots would not slip. There was something about the bricks he had seen across the empire that had intrigued Shiva. Turning to Nandi he asked, Are these bricks made as per some standard process?’
‘Yes my Lord,’ replied a surprised Nandi. All the bricks in Meluha are made as per specifications and guidelines given by the Chief Architect of the empire. But how did you guess?’
‘They are all exactly the same dimension.’
Nandi beamed in pride at his empire’s efficiency and his Lord’s power of observation. The platform rose at the end of the drawbridge, with a road spiralling up to the summit in one gende turn, facilitating the passage of horses and chariots. In addition, there was a broad flight of stairs leading straight up the incline for pedestrians. The city walls and the platform extended steeply onto the sides around this slope, making it a valley of death for any enemy foolish enough to attack the platform from this area.
The city gates were made of a metal that Shiva had never seen before. Nandi clarified that they were made of iron, a new metal that had just been discovered. It was the strongest of all the metals but very expensive. The ore required to make it was not easily available. At the platform entry, on top of the city gates, was etched the symbol of the Suryavanshis — a bright red circular sun with its rays blazing out in all directions. Below it was the motto that they lived by ‘Satya. Dharma. Maan’: Truth. Duty. Honour.
Seeing just this much of the city had left Shiva awestruck. However, the sight that he witnessed at the top of the platform, within the city gates, was truly breathtaking both in its efficiency and simplicity. The city was divided into a grid of square blocks by the paved streets. There were footpaths on the side for pedestrians, lanes marked on the street for traffic in different directions, and of course, there were covered drains running through the centre. All the buildings were constructed as standard two storied block structures made of baked bricks. On top were wooden extensions for increasing the height of the building, if required. Nandi clarified to Shiva that the structure of the buildings differed internally depending on their specific requirements. All windows and doors were built strictly on the side walls of buildings, never facing the main road.
The blank walls that faced the main roads bore striking black line drawings depicting the different legends of the Suryavanshis, while the background was painted in the sober colours of grey, light blue, light green or white. The most common background colour though, appeared to be blue. In the Meluhan mind, blue was the holiest colour of them all. It was the colour of the sky. It was just above green, the colour of the earth, in the colour spectrum. Meluhans, who liked to see some greater design in every act of nature, thought it was marvellous that blue was above green in the colour spectrum just as the sky was above the earth.
The most recurring illustrations on the walls were about the great emperor, Lord Ram. His victories over his enemies, his subjugation of the wicked Chandravanshis, incidents that proved his statesmanship and wisdom, had been lovingly recreated. Lord Ram was deeply revered, and many Meluhans had come to worship him like a god. They referred to him as Vishnu, an ancient title for the greatest of the gods meaning protector of the world & propagator of good.
As Shiva learned from Nandi, the city was divided into many districts consisting of four to eight blocks. Each district had its own markets, commercial and residential areas, temples and entertainment centres. Manufacturing or any other polluting activity was conducted in separate quarters away from the districts. The efficiency and smoothness with which Devagiri functioned belied the fact that it was the most populous city in the entire empire. The last census just two years back had pegged the population of the city at two hundred thousand.
Nandi led Shiva and the three soldiers to one of the city’s numerous guest houses, built for the many tourists that frequented Devagiri, for both business and leisure. Tying up their horses in the designated area outside the guest house, the party walked in to register themselves and check into their rooms. The guest house had a style similar to the many that Shiva had seen throughout their journey. There was a central courtyard with the building built around it. The rooms were comfortably furnished and spacious.
‘My Lord, it’s almost time for dinner,’ said Nandi. ‘I will speak with the housekeeper and have some food arranged. We should eat early and get enough sleep since our appointment with the Emperor has been fixed at the beginning of the second prahar tomorrow’
‘Sounds like a good idea.’
‘Also, if it is all right with you, shall I dismiss the soldiers and send them back to Srinagar?’
‘That also sounds like a good idea,’ said a smiling Shiva. Why Nandi, you are almost like a fount of brilliant ideas!’
Nandi laughed along with Shiva, always happy to be the cause of a smile on his Lord’s face. ‘I’ll just be back, my Lord.’
Shiva lay down on his bed and was quickly lost in the thoughts that really mattered to him.
I’ll finish the meeting with the Emperor as soon as humanly possible, give him whatever the bloody hell he wants and then scour the city for Sati.
Shiva had considered asking Nandi about the whereabouts of Sati but had eventually decided against it. He was painfully aware that he had made a less than spectacular impression on her at their first meeting. If she hadn’t made it easy for him to find her, it only meant that she wasn’t terribly stirred by him. He didn’t want to compound the issue by speaking casually about her to others.
He smiled as the memory of her face came flooding back to him. He replayed the magical moments when he had seen her fighting. Not the most romantic of sights for most men of his tribe. But for Shiva, it was divine. He sighed recalling her soft, delicate body, which had suddenly developed brutal, killer qualities upon being attacked. The curves that had so captivated him swung smoothly as she transferred her weight to swing her sword. The sober tied hair had swayed sensuously with each move of the sword arm. He breathed deeply.
What a woman!
It was early in the morning when Shiva and Nandi crossed the bridge between the Tamra and Svarna platforms to reach the royal citadel. The bridge, another marvel of Meluhan engineering, was flanked on the sides by a thick wall. Holes had been drilled on the walls, to shoot arrows or pour hot oil on enemies. The bridge was bisected by a massive gate, a final protection just in case the other platform was lost to an enemy.
When they crossed over to the Svarna platform, Shiva was completely taken by surprise, not by the grandeur of the royal area but by the lack of it. He was shocked by the fact that there was no opulence. Despite ruling over such a massive and wealthy empire, the nobility lived in a conspicuously simple manner. The structure of the royal citadel was almost exacdy like the other platforms. There were no special concessions for the aristocrats. The same block structures that dominated all of Meluha were to be found in the royal citadel as well. The only magnificent structure was to the far right and sported the sign ‘Great Public Bath’. The Bath also had a
glorious temple to Lord Indra to the left. The temple, built of wood, stood on a raised foundation of baked bricks, its cupola plated with solid gold! It seemed that special architecture was reserved only for structures built for the Gods or ones that were for the common good.
Probably just like how Lord Ram would have preferred.
The only concession to the emperor, however, was that his standard block structure was larger than the others. Significantly larger.
Shiva and Nandi entered the royal private office to find Emperor Daksha sitting on a simple throne at the far end of the modesdy furnished room, flanked by a man and a woman.
Daksha, greeting Shiva with a formal namaste, said. ‘I hope your journey was comfortable.’
He looked too young to be an emperor of such a large country. Though he was marginally shorter than Shiva, the major difference between them was the musculature. While the strapping Shiva was powerfully built, Daksha’s body showed that it had not been strained by too much exercise. He wasn’t obese either. Just average. The same could be said about his wheatish complexioned face. Average sized, dark eyes flanked a straight nose. He wore his hair long like most Meluhan men and women. The head bore a majestic crown with the sun symbol of the Suryavanshis manifested in the centre through sparkling gem stones. An elegant dhoti, with an angvastram hung down the right shoulder and a large amount of functional jewellery, including two amulets on his right arm, complemented Daksha’s average appearance. His only distinguishing feature was his smile — which spread its innocent conviction all the way to his eyes. Emperor Daksha looked like a man who wore his royalty lightly.
‘Yes it was, your highness,’ replied Shiva. The infrastructure in your empire is wonderful. You are an extraordinary emperor.’
‘Thank you. But I only deserve reflected credit. The work is done by my people,’