Becoming God Page 10

  The unceremonious departure of the couple from Vishwayatan made Sheelbhadra mad as he could not bear the tragic separation of his daughter, the apple of his eyes, and his dear disciple in whom he had reposed high ambitions. Pulak was wonderstruck with fast moves of fate, and his orientation in spirituality was shaken from the root. He was set to redefine his goal and chart out its pursuit afresh. Dhi was deeply depressed due to deprivation of his father’s protection and fear of an uncertain future. The Kulpati suffered a grave self-doubt as his experiments with education had borne such bitter fruit.

  Pulak and Dhi left forever for an unknown place.

  7.3

  The teams, which had gone on expedition looking for a suitable city for Shiv, returned with many tales of their journeys. Viru, who had led his team along the left bank of the Sindhu, was the first to recount his tales:

  “Our team moved along the left bank of the Sindhu, across the mountains, up to the far west, where the river veers to left in the southern direction. Thereafter, the river flows swiftly down the hills, towards the plains. Though the places along the Sindhu are sparsely populated, the people are quite friendly. Instead of staying with them for long, we preferred to move ahead along the river. In about two months, we reached a place called Panchnad, which has acquired its name from the confluence of five rivers coming together to meet Sindhu.

  The confluence blocked our way ahead as it was almost impossible to cross over the huge mass of water. We were compelled to follow the path along a trunk tributary, moving by its left shore. Now, moving towards north, we passed confluences of other tributaries which met the trunk tributary on its right shores. Thus, our movement along the left shore remained unhindered, till we reached a place where where one of the five rivers named Vitasta enters another river named Asikni on its right shore to form the trunk tributary.

  As we apprehended that by thus travelling towards north we might reach the origin of the rivers in the glaciers in Deul without accomplishing our task, we mustered courage to cross the Asikni, and moved towards east. This area is called Saptsindhu Pradesh, the land of seven rivers, in recognition of the significance of the six rivers and one more river, which we later came to know as Saraswati, and which demarcates the eastern boundary of the region.

  Moving steadily towards east, we reached the Saraswati. Further moving northward along the right shore of the river, we reached a small village of farmers who called themselves Arya. We soon saw some other villages in the region. These villagers are very skilled and cultured people. They use wheels to run fast on the land, and boats to swim swiftly in the water. They use iron to manufacture arms, and gold to make jewellery. They know ploughing the earth; they cultivate wheat, barley and paddy. They rear cattle like cow and bull. They revere cows a lot. The rich of them have got sturdy and powerful animals, called horse, and use them to ride and get their carriages pulled. The horses are not native of the land, and are imported from the far west. The wise and visionary among them sing hymns quite sonorously, while performing a ritual called yagya, the sacrifice, by putting clarified butter in fire. In their hymns, which have been compiled by some scholarly sages in a compendium called Rig Veda, they praise elements of nature like fire, sun, rain, et al.

  Once when we reached a far village, the people there asked us not to move forward as ahead was the Ashram, the hermitage, of Maharshi Kanva, who disliked being bothered by the people. They appeared deeply awed by the Maharshi. On our insistence on knowing the reason, they reluctantly divulged that the Maharshi, who is hundreds of years old, was quite affable and accessible till the spat and separation between his foster daughter Shakuntala and her husband King Dushyant. The Maharshi was much bitter when Shankuntala left his Ashram in a huff and their son Bharat was taken away by King Dushyant from the Ashram.

  The People’s awe for the Maharshi, and their claim about his age, enhanced our curiosity to see him. Despite their warnings, one night we sneaked away from the village, and hurried to the Ashram. We saw that the Ashram was an idyllic place, and appeared celestial and mysterious, wrapped in the misty moonlight in the night. As we sidled up to the Ashram we saw a wiry and gangly person with white hair and beard, wrapped in snowy white clothes, sitting in deep contemplation, in front of a straw hut.

  Suddenly, the sage sprang up on his feet, perhaps alarmed by our footfalls. We hid ourselves behind a bush, but the old man roared like a lion, “Come out. Who are you there?” Feeling incapacitated to resist his command; we came out, moved slowly with bowed heads, and slumped on his feet. There was again a roar, but this time it was soaked in compassion, “Stand up. Don’t behave like wimps. Tell who you are.”

  As we stood in compliance and humility, the Maharshi stared at our faces, and croaked in amazement, “You people are not from this land. You appear to have come from other world. Tell exactly who you are and why you are here.”

  When we told him about us and our task, his countenance was completely changed. He was now a different person. With folded hands he intoned, “You are the people of my Lord. You are most welcome here. I am grateful that you have brought the news that the Lord has appeared on the earth. I had been guessing for quite long that the Lord was about to descend on the earth.”

  When we raised the issue of a suitable city for Shiv to live, the Maharshi appeared a bit disconcerted, and heaving out a deep breath, stated with consternation that Saptsindhu Pradesh was no more a peaceful and prosperous place since the Battle of Ten Kings. The region was condemned to treachery and violence as most of the wise and brave had already moved to the east along the rivers Ganga and Yamuna. The Saraswati, which was the witness to the visions and composition of pious hymns by the great seers, was drying up and might soon vanish from the earth.

  On our request to know about the Battle of Ten Kings, the Maharshi revealed that it was fought between the Bharat clan and a conglomerate of Puru, Yadu, Vurvasha, Anu, Druhyu, Alina, Bhalan, Paktha, Shiva and Vishanin clans over sharing the waters of the Saraswati river. The kings of the ten clans, who ruled the regions upstream the Saraswati, had got collectively constructed a weir on the Saraswati, depriving the Bharatas, who lived downstream the Saraswati, of the river water required for irrigation of agricultural fields. The entreaties by the Bharat king Sudas for the river water were turned down by the ten kings who argued that the water was just enough for them only. The Bharatas were though contented with whatever meagre water was released by their upper region neighbours, but a quarrel between two wise men from the Bharatas happened to be an immediate trigger for a fierce battle.

  Sudas’ Minister, Vishwamitra had once visited the Ashram of sage Vashishtha, and having liked his cow asked for it. Vashistha refused it point-blank, which infuriated Vishwamitra so much that he resolved to seize the cow at the strength of state authority. When King Sudas came to know about it he chided the Minister for his avarice and arrogance. The implacable Minister, in revenge, turned a traitor by joining the camp of the Ten Kings, shoving them to inundate the Bharatas by opening up the embankment on the Saraswati. In the battle that ensued, Sudas emerged victorious and Purukutsa, the King of Purus, who led the army of the conglomerate, was killed.

  Despite their victory, Bharatas were not happy in the aftermath of the battle as the defeated kings continued to nettle them. The Saraswati was drying up in the region of Bharatas due to its mainstream being diverted by the ten kings to the nearby Airavati rivulet. Embattled, a major chunk of Bharatas under the leadership of King Sudas’ son Divodas left for the east.

  Maharshi Kanva closed his eyes in anguish, remembering the departure of virtuous Bhartas from the Saptasindhu region. After some time, heaving out a deep breath, he purred with satisfaction, “Bharatas are learnt to be doing well, having scattered in the vast Gangetic plains. Divodas is said to have established a kingdom in the far east at Vairat, clinching the local Kashi tribe and settling the some Bharatas who continued to accompany him.”

  7.4

  Ruru looked frightened when Shiv asked
him to present his report. He shuddered a bit before starting to relate his story, as if possessed:

  “We travelled along the right bank of the Yamuna for quite long, traversing vast tracts of desolate areas interspersed with sparsely inhabited places and deep forests ashore the river. Once having lost our way along the river, we drifted deep into dense forests, across unknown areas, and went far south.

  During daytime we would roam in the jungle, vainly seeking path to the Yamuna bank. In the nights we would clamber up some huge tree to seek shelter on its branch for fear of violent wild beasts. We would cling on the perch, wrapping our arms and legs around it.

  One night, we were awakened from our meagre sleep which we had fitfully while clinging to a tree branch. We were shocked to hear some bizarre cries of people coming towards us. When they came quite closer, we saw about a score of black and stocky men and women – all stark naked – streaming in a procession, dancing and singing in incomprehensibly croaking sounds.

  Two of them were carrying flame torches, one each in their hands. Two others were dragging a naked adolescent boy who appeared completely drunk and unable to walk on his own. Two women were dragging a bull, which seemed a pet because of its leash. They all were drinking some liquid from a clay pitcher in tiny leafy cups. They appeared sozzled or possessed.

  We were horrified to see that they stopped just in front of the tree we were perched on. We trembled with fear of being caught, but they, being lost in the splurge of drinking and dancing, could not notice us.

  Soon, they stopped drinking and dancing. The two flame torches were fixed astride a stone obelisk, which seemed to be their deity, standing at the root of the tree. Some men started digging a small pit, while others placed some wild fruits, which they had brought with them, in front of the obelisk. Some women rubbed plant leaves on the obelisk, as if painting with its sap, and then decorated it with some fresh leaves. The surface of the just dug pit was covered with leaf-plates.

  Having finished the work of preparing the pit and decorating the obelisk, they all started drinking, dancing and singing with great gusto. They also made the already inebriated boy to drink the liquid forcibly. Meanwhile, worship of the deity was in progress amidst nasal chanting of some strange prayers by four men.

  The bull was slaughtered with great ferocity and its blood was stored in the pit. The boy who appeared by now almost unconscious was brought near the pit, surrounded by all men and women singing and dancing. Suddenly, four men sprang out from the mob and laid down the boy on the ground. While two kept his body pinned to the ground, the other two pushed his downfaced head into the pit of blood and kept drowning it till he ceased struggling to wriggle him out of the trap of death. Ultimately, he yielded to death amidst uproarious rejoicing by the madly dancing people.

  The body of the boy was cut into pieces and offered to the deity apparently immanent in the obelisk. The pieces of flesh were later distributed among the people, who were dancing in small groups in great frenzy. They all started feeding on the pieces of flesh and drinking cup-fills of blood from the pit.

  I felt a strong urge to retch and my limbs became so numb with fear and disgust that my grip on the perch loosened, and I fell on the ground with a thud. The people, frightened over unexpected dropping, took to their heels in panic, crying in shrilling voices.

  For a few moments I remained lain there in fear, but when I realized the situation around I stood up and calling my teammates to come down, fled towards the opposite direction.

  We kept running all through the night without fearing wild beasts, impelled by greater fear of what we had just witnessed. We continued running even in the forenoon next day until we were alarmed by a feminine voice shouting in panic, ‘Arya, Arya’. An ugly black woman encountered us, in great fear.”

  Many among the audience, including Parvati, who were attentively listening to Ruru’s tale of horror, looked to Shiv in curiosity to know what Arya meant. Shiv, who was reluctant to intervene, briefly stated that he had been told during his school days that the area where Ruru’s team had strayed into belonged to Dasas and Dasyus. Instead of delving into details about Dasas and Dasyus, despite overstrung curiosity from many among the audience, Shiv gestured Ruru to resume his narration.

  “We did not respond to the frightened woman, indicating that we were innocuous people. Staring at us in bewilderment the woman croaked, “You don’t look like Aryas. Then, who are you?” When we informed her that we are from Deul and are friends of Shiv, she whispered in a voice choked with joy, “My prophecy has come true. Our Lord has arrived on the earth. Our Protector shall be soon amongst us.”

  Finding us perplexed she calmed down, and showing reverence to us profusely she asked what she should do to please us. We desired to get out of the place post-haste, as we had yet not overcome from our shock over what we had witnessed the last night. We recounted how brutally some savages had sacrificed a boy last night. It made the woman to shriek in a heart-wrenching cry. Her cries, however, tapered off into whimpering when she saw us gaping in guilt of having wronged her in some way. Sobbingly, she clarified that the slain boy was her son.

  To quell our curiosity she continued to tell: “The rival clan of the Dasyus has a tradition of appeasing their deity by sacrificing a boy kidnapped from our clan of Dasas”. On being pressed further for more details, she divulged: “We are originally the people of the north. When Aryas, who also called them Bharatas, were progressing towards the east, demolishing our dwellings and putting forests to fire to acquire cultivable land, we put stiff resistance to them, but were vanquished and pushed to the south beyond the Rasa river into an area called Rasatal, which Aryas meant the nether land fit for living of demons. Those, who put violent resistance, pride in calling themselves Dasyu, the robber. We, who raised a non-violent passive resistance, are called Das, the slave. Some of us staged no protests, expecting a peaceful living under Aryas, and preferred to be assimilated among them, but they are loathed as untouchables by the Aryas. The Dasa and Dasyus are, however, safe in Rasatal because Aryas do not foray into this region, treating it a condemned land. But even in this land of ours we are not at peace as we have developed an intense fraternal enmity over the extent and manner of resistance we put to the Aryas. Due to this enmity only, the cruel Dasyus kidnap boys from our clan to sacrifice them to their deity.”

  Abruptly closing her talk, she indicated that there was a grave danger for us being strangers in that area. She insisted that we should immediately leave the area. She hastily asked us to follow her. After about a two-day journey through dense forests and rocky terrains she brought us to the shore of a river which she called the Rasa. Asking us to lie down silently at the shore, she went hurriedly towards a nearby gorge and disappeared there. She soon appeared carrying a canoe on her head. She got us boarded on the canoe in panic and rowed it vehemently across the river. When on the other shore, she pushed us hastily off the canoe and whispered in frightened voice, “Move away fast, very fast. You’re safe now.” Without losing time she prostrated on the ground in deference to her original homeland and ran immediately back to the canoe to row it back to Rasatal lest she were caught by enemy for crossing the river or helping strangers out of the region.

  Travelling as fast as we could on the path shown by the Dasa woman, we reached the Yamuna shore in few days. We were so afraid of the Rasatal that we hurriedly crossed the river perching on a wooden log. We further continued moving eastward.

  After about a week we reached a place where the Yamuna met the Ganga in confluence. There was a small village of rishis, who were reputed for performing yagya. We were later came to know that the village was Prayag, the site of profuse yagyas. There we saw Gannu and his teammates. We wept bitterly having found ourselves in the safe company of our men.”

  7.5

  Gannu, who was already aware of Ruru and his team’s harrowing experience, now took turn to narrate his anecdote:

  “Travelling along the river, which flows directly southward
from the Manas Lake, we swiftly crossed Surkshetra, and reached the confluence of this river with the Ganga. Thereafter, following the course of the Ganga we crossed Rishikesh, and moving further along the Ganga, which flows eastward, we soon descended on the plains.

  In the Gangetic plains we saw Aryas from Saptsindhu Pradesh who are settled in small villages, having defeated Dasas and Dasyus in fight over area domination. On the land won from the Dasa/Dasyus, they have started cultivation by tilling the land with newly invented plough, and cattle rearing, comprising mostly cows. But there is no big settlement or city in the plains, except some tiny villages, mostly on the riverfront. The population in these villages is quite fluid and in constant flux. Some of the inhabitants move further eastwards in search of further cultivable land and entrepreneurship, while fresh groups from behind in the west occupy their vacant dwellings. In the perpetual flux they hardly focussed on some planned and permanent dwelling. So we kept moving in search of the city suitable for dwelling of Shiv-Parvati.

  One morning, when we had just entered a dense forest after a stopover at a small village called Karnavati, four persons – black and stocky with curly hair and thick moustaches – who were skulking behind the bushes, accosted us and tried to abduct us. We immediately raised a loud alarm.

  A sage came out, rushing towards us and started shouting at the top of his voice, “Dasyu, Dasyu. Danger, danger.” We also started shouting, imitating his words. Soon, some people working in nearby fields rushed, shouting the same words. People from the nearby Karnavati reached the spot within no time. The four black men, however, slipped away in the melee.