The Krishna Key
Priya sat listening to Sir Khan with her mouth agape. The don smiled a smile of satisfaction as he noticed her response. ‘It is a well-known fact that power plants or nuclear plants create their own magnetic fields. When Ghazni’s men saw the suspended Shiv lingam they thought it was held up by lodestone in the roof. They did not comprehend that the lodestone had been installed to keep the lingam down—by creating an opposing magnetic field to the one created by the lingam—rather than to pull it up!’
‘But how did the ancients know how to create nuclear power?’ asked Ratnani.
‘It’s not so remarkable when one considers the fact that ancient yogis of India knew even how to levitate,’ said Sir Khan, puffing out yet another cloud of Havana fumes.
‘That’s true,’ said Priya. ‘I read about this in Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda. The ancient spiritual masters definitely had the ability to lift their bodies into thin air at will. It came from advanced spiritual practices in which they could actually alter the flow of electric currents through their body so that a magnetic field would lift them off the ground.’
‘And it was this very technology that was used to build the pyramids in Egypt—a combination of acoustics and electromagnetism that allowed massive stone blocks to be shifted easily,’ explained Sir Khan. ‘A couple of years ago, a team of scientists at the University of St Andrews recreated levitation of objects in the laboratory by reengineering the Casimir Force—a force of nature which usually causes objects to stick together. Once reengineered, the Casimir Force could be used to repel instead of attract. Professor Ulf Leonhardt and Dr Thomas Philbin showed that the same effect could be used to levitate bigger objects too, even a person!’
‘In effect, modern science is now tell enclosed within a circle. Pcaping us that levitation—which was disregarded as science fiction of Indian mythology—is indeed possible and that ancients could have had the ability to achieve those miracles,’ said Priya.
‘The Philosopher’s Stone was the legendary alchemical substance that was believed to have had the power of turning base metals into gold or silver,’ said Sir Khan. ‘Indeed, for many centuries it was the object of most chemical experiments in Europe. The Philosopher’s Stone was also believed to be an elixir of life—because it had the power to bestow immortality. Isn’t it possible that Ghazni may have been inadvertently destroying the world’s true Philosopher’s Stone when he smashed the Shiv lingam of Somnath?’
‘So why did you want to meet me and tell me all this?’ asked Priya, breaking her resistance to ask the all-important question.
‘Because I believe that you could help me uncover an incredible secret. It is monumental but it needs someone with your knowledge of history to find it,’ said Sir Khan simply.
Duryodhana then visited my elder brother—Balarama—who had always had a soft corner for him. In fact, Balarama had planned for our sister Subhadra to marry Duryodhana, but I had upset his plans by getting Subhadra to elope with Arjuna. ‘Join us, Balarama,’ said Duryodhana. ‘Even though I was unable to marry your sister, there is no reason why we should not be allies in war.’ Bhima reached Balarama at the same time. ‘You are the one who taught me to wield the mace, sire. You know that your brother Krishna is always right. Please stand by us and against those who are not righteous,’ said Bhima to Balarama. Balarama considered the situation carefully and then spoke to both Duryodhana and Bhima. ‘Why such anger and bitterness? Over land? Embrace each other and enjoy the rest of your lives as friends, not enemies.’ Neither side took his advice, though. Balarama decided that he would proceed on a pilgrimage along the Sarasvati and would fight for neither. Before leaving, he advised both sides to follow the rules of war meticulously.
The decision was taken. They would split into two teams—Radhika and Saini as one, and Chhedi and Rathore the other. The first team would travel to Mount Kailash on the trail of Priya and Taarak. The second team would travel to Somnath to determine whether the four ancient seals were actually pointing them there, as suggested by Saini.
‘Why would the Krishna Key point us to either Mount Kailash or Somnath?’ asked Radhika. ‘After all, both sites are consecrated to Shiv, not Vishnu.’
‘Ah, but Vish and Shiv are two sides of the same coin,’ said Saini smiling. ‘Hara Hara Mahadev is Shiv but Hari is Krishna. You can always find Hara and Hari in the same place!’
‘So whether it was Shiv or Vish, their worship was prevalent in Vedic times?’ asked Radhika.
‘Fire altars have been discovered at many Indus Valley sites. Also bathing places like the Great Bath of Mohenjodaro used for ritual cleansing—a religious activity that you can still see on the banks of the Ganges every day. Most importantly, virtually all construction along the Indus-Sarasvati has been done using bricks of uniform dimension. The ratio of height to width to length is a consistent 1 explorationceb scriptures:2:3,’ informed Saini.
‘How does this ratio tell us that this was a Vedic civilisation?’ asked Radhika.
‘We know the tremendous mystical importance that the Vedic seers attached to the number 108 right? But 108 is derived from the multiplication of an ancient sequence. The sequence is 11, 22, 33 and 108 is simply the result of 11 x 22 x 33. Why were the Indus Valley residents using bricks in the ratio 1:2:3 if they were not Vedic?’ asked Saini as they trekked their way to the Cave of the Thirteen Gold Stupas on Kailash’s southern face.
Radhika and Saini’s journey had started with a flight from Lucknow to Kathmandu. From Kathmandu, they had flown fly by a group-charter airplane towards the fabled hidden land of Dropoling—renowned for its rare medicinal herbs. They had continued on foot through incredibly beautiful wilderness towards the Tibetan border, crossing over a high pass to reach the ancient trading post of Burang where an amiable guide who went by the name of Sherpa Dorji joined them.
Their visit coincided with the full moon day of Sagadawa—a day when Tibetans traditionally celebrated the Buddha’s birth, death, and enlightenment—and hundreds of Tibetan pilgrims had already begun their three-day ritual circumambulation of Mount Kailash, huddled together at night in tents hastily erected next to fifteenth-century Buddhist temples. Crossing the eighteen-thousand-foot-high Dolma-La pass, Radhika and Saini were reminded by Sherpa Dorji that the circumambulation of Mount Kailash signified a passage into a new life, completely cleansed of all past karma.
They managed the outer circumambulation of Mount Kailash on the first day, looking out for Priya and Taarak as they walked, but neither Mataji nor her fanatically devoted pupil were anywhere to be seen. ‘Damn, we’ve missed them,’ muttered Saini under his breath, cursing the delays that they had experienced along the way to Kailash. ‘Maybe we should consider doing the Nandi Parikrama tomorrow to see if we can find them.’ The Nandi Parikrama was also a circumambulation of Mount Kailash but along a much tougher circuit. This particular trek was only meant for seasoned mountaineers because it involved steep sections as well as rock falls.
As they trudged along, they met an ascetic. He wore very few clothes, in spite of the sub-zero temperatures and still seemed very comfortable. His hair was long and fell in thick braided dreadlocks around his shoulders. On his face and upper body he had smeared holy ash and on his forehead was a painted third eye. ‘Hara Hara Mahadev!’ he shouted. Saini and Radhika folded their hands in obeisance before the holy man. ‘I know what you seek,’ said the sadhu cryptically. ‘Remember one thing though… the philosopher is more important than the stone.’ Before Saini or Radhika could ask him what he meant, he took a puff from a chillum of charas and danced into the wilderness, oblivious to the startled expressions of Radhika and Saini.
The next day, Radhika, Saini and Dorji walked in single file along a extremely narrow path. The rarefied air and pressure of walking uphill constantly soon had both Radhika and Saini out of breath. Their walk from Silung Gompa to Astapad Mountain had taken about an hour. They did not stop there but carried on to the confluence of two rivers—Silung and Kailash Ganga
. A short descent brought them to Ling-Singjen—a horse’s hoofprint considered very holy by the Tibetans. and placed two fingers under the angle of dbmef
As Radhika and Saini neared the base of Southern Kailash it started snowing heavily. Stopping was not an option so they continued along a rocky pathway down to a valley. On one side was Nandi Hill and on the other was Ravana Linga Mountain. In front of them stood the majestic Mount Kailash. They had been trekking for over eight hours before reaching the base of the vertical south wall face of Kailash. They were now ready for the worst part of the trek—the final half-kilometre climb to the Saptarishi Cave along an almost vertical wall using mountain climbing ropes provided by Dorji.
As the battle was about to begin, both armies saw Yudhistira take off his armour and put down his weapons. He stepped off his chariot and walked towards the Kaurava forces. A confused Arjuna ran forward and asked his brother why he was heading towards the enemy unarmed but Yudhistira was deep in thought and did not bother to reply. I gently explained to Arjuna that Yudhistira was simply seeking the blessings of the elders—Bhishma, Drona and Kripa. I could discern a malevolent glee emanating from the Kaurava forces. Most of the men seemed to think Yudhistira had decided to surrender even before the battle had commenced. Yudhistira walked up to Bhishma. Bending down, he touched the elder’s feet reverentially and said, ‘Grandsire, give us your permission to commence battle. We have dared to battle you—our unconquerable grandsire—and we seek your benediction.’ Bhishma’s eyes glistened with tears as he blessed Yudhistira and said, ‘May you emerge victorious.’ Yudhistira sought blessings from his gurus—Drona and Kripa—as well as from as his uncle Shalya, and then returned to the Pandava forces to start battle.
Radhika and Saini pulled themselves over a final ledge. They had reached the Saptarishi cave—almost a balcony on the south face of Kailash at a height of eighty metres from the base. The Tibetans had constructed chortens—or miniature stupas—along the balcony. Radhika and Saini were unaware of the fact that two of the stupas were not inanimate.
Radhika and Saini unstrapped their backpacks and sat down on the narrow ledge of the cave. Sherpa Dorji clambered down the rope once again in order to bring up additional supplies that had been left behind at the base of Kailash’s south wall. They looked around the cave. It was filled with Tibetan chortens as well as deities and offerings placed by Hindu, Buddhist, Jain and Bön pilgrims. On the walls pilgrims had written a variety of prayers and shlokas. Radhika noticed one in particular. It said, ‘Ilah sarasvati mahi tisro devirmayobhuvaha varhiha sidantasridhaha.’
‘What does this mean?’ asked Radhika, pointing to the shloka on the wall.
‘It’s a verse from the Rig Veda, said Saini. ‘It literally translates to: O Ilah, Sarasvati and Mahi, the three goddesses who bring delight, please be seated, peacefully, on the grass.’
‘I haven’t heard of Ilah or Mahi. In modern Hinduism we have Lakshmi and Durga, but no Ilah or Mahi,’ said Radhika.
‘That’s because Ilah was another name for Durga,’ explained Saini.
‘Doesn’t it sound a lot like Allah?’ asked Radhika, her curiosity piqued.
‘You are spot-on,’ remarked Saini,’ replied Sir Khanaw on the Kaliyuga. ‘Prior to the advent of Islam, the word Allah had already existed. It was derived from two Arabic words, al—meaning “the”, and ilah—meaning “deity”. Over a period of time, the combined phrase al-ilah came to be pronounced as Allah.’
‘What evidence is there that it was a pre-existing name?’ asked Radhika.
‘The existence of the word Allah prior to Islam is evident from the fact that the prophet Mohammad’s own father had the name Abd-Allah—what is today commonly pronounced Abdullah. Translated, it meant servant of Allah,’ replied Saini. ‘This is the best evidence of the fact that the name Allah was in use prior to the advent of Islam.’
Radhika shook her head in amazement. Listening to Saini was almost enchanting. He always had delicious morsels of historical, mythological and theological information to share. The acrimony between policewoman and murder suspect was gradually transforming itself into mutual respect and friendship.
‘It’s interesting to note that Semitic languages, including Hebrew and Aramaic, that evolved from the Persia-Syria region, also had an equivalent word prior to Arabic,’ continued Saini. ‘The Aramaic form is Elaha while Hebrew uses the plural form of Elohim. The question that we must then ask ourselves is this: from where did Al-Ilah, Allah, Elaha or Elohim emerge? If one simply considers the date of the Rig Veda and the evidence of westward migrations of Vedic people, it is possible that these words had a common root in Ilah—a goddess worshipped in Vedic times.’
‘So, monotheistic religions such as Judaism, Christianity and Islam may have inadvertently borrowed from a polytheistic one such as Hinduism?’ asked Radhika incredulously.
‘Well, in the Rig Veda, one comes across a verse that says “ekkam satya vipra bahuda vidhaante”. It means, Truth is one, God is one, although sages may call him by a variety of names. This is the essence of Vedic philosophy. It is a misconception that the Vedic faith is polytheistic,’ said Saini taking a gulp of hot water from his flask.
At that very moment, the silence and stillness of Mount Kailash was shattered by a resounding gunshot. While Radhika and Saini were completely preoccupied in their philosophical discussions, two of the Tibetan chortens had morphed into the human figures of Priya and Taarak. They had quietly moved over to the edge of the balcony and clambered down the rope that had been used by Radhika and Saini to climb up.
Sherpa Dorji was heading back towards the base of the cave when he saw the two strangers running away from the base of the south face. They were carrying away the rope that was needed to access the cave. ‘Hey!’ shouted Dorji. ‘What do you think you’re doing? Where are you taking my rope?’
Instead of replying to his question, Taarak had simply turned around, taken out his gun and fired a round into the air. The purpose was not only to warn Sherpa Dorji that there was no point in attempting to fight but also to set in motion a natural chain of events that would finish off the two pesky intruders—Radhika and Saini—once and for all.
As the gun went off, there was an ominous loud rumble and the earth began to tremble. Seated in the cave of the south face of Mount Kailash, Radhika and Saini felt the ground shake as exploration with bmef massive quantities of boulders, snow and debris began rolling down from Shiv’s abode. Within a few seconds the avalanche was in full motion. Radhika and Saini clung to one another under the ledge of the Saptarishi Cave as they watched the only entrance to the cave fill up with boulders and ice.
‘Are you hurt?’ asked Saini urgently, as he held Radhika tightly. There was no reply. He repeated the question. In panic, he shook Radhika a little, but soon realised that he was shaking a corpse. He frantically placed his hand in front of her face to discern if she was breathing, but he could not feel her breath.
Saini’s eyes moistened as the reality that Radhika was dead hit him. He continued to cradle her body in his arms as he felt his tears well up. He felt her head and discovered a mild bump underneath her wet hair. Obviously, some falling debris had hit her. He cursed himself for slipping into his academic role and taking his eye off the ball. It had got Radhika killed while he himself was well and truly stuck.
Saini remembered the tutorial that Priya had given him about checking for a pulse. He placed two fingers under the angle of Radhika’s jaw to check her carotid. He prayed fervently that he would detect even the faintest beat of life, but there was none. ‘No!’ shouted Saini. ‘Why don’t you open your eyes, Radhika?’ he asked, almost wishing to trick himself into believing that she was alive. But there was no reply. Soon there was only darkness—and the sub-zero chill of a morgue.
Warriors on both sides took an oath to honour the traditions and rules of battle. By the time that the battle ended, all rules would have been forgotten. In front of the Pandavas, stood the mighty army of the Kauravas. Diff
erent flags symbolising key warriors fluttered in the air—flags of Bhishma, Drona, Duryodhana, Kripa, Jayadhrata and Aswatthama. Seeing the scale of the Kaurava forces, Yudhistira said to Arjuna, ‘The opposing army is incredibly large. Our strategy should be to concentrate our forces into a needlepoint. It is the only way that we will be able to fight them.’ But Arjuna was in no condition to respond. He was overwhelmed with the scene and seemed terrified.
Radhika Singh had just started teaching history, geography and civics at the Mayo College in Ajmer. Her husband, Commandant Hari Singh of the Border Security Force, had recently been promoted from Deputy Commandant and the increased pay had allowed them to get married. Their respective fathers had been buddies in the Indian Army and had decided to introduce the children to one another, in the hope that love would blossom and that they would get married. The strategy had worked.
Commandant Hari Singh had been sent off to Jammu & Kashmir as part of a BSF battalion handling counter-insurgency and counter-terrorism operations. Hari Singh’s team established an intelligence network and created ground-level relationships with informants. The result was that they were able to kill Rafique Baba—a key operative of the Jaish-e-Mohammed. Hari Singh’s team raided Rafique Baba’s secret camp in Srinagar and killed him in the gun battle that followed. As reward for his efforts, Hari Singh was granted leave along with a generous bonus, and he proceeded to Ajmer to spend some quality time with his wife. Little did he know that his victory had not gone unnoticed within the leadership of the Jaish-e-Mohammed. Two sharpshooters were instructed to track down Hari Singh and eliminate him.