She Enters His Life

Nandi lay in a semi-conscious state for several hours as the medicines administered by

the doctors worked on his body. Shiva sat by his side, repeatedly changing the wet cloth

on his burning forehead to control the fever. Nandi kept babbling incoherently as he

tossed and turned in his sleep, making Shiva’s task that much more difficult.

‘I’ve been searching... long... so long... a hundred years... never thought I.... find

Neelkanth... Jai Shri Ram...’

Shiva tried to ignore Nandi’s babble as he focussed on keeping the fever down. But his

ears had caught on to something.

He’s been searching for a hundred years?!

Shiva frowned.

The fever’s affecting his bloody brain! He doesn’t look a day older than twenty years!

‘I’ve been searching for a hundred years...,’ continued the oblivious Nandi. ‘...I found...

Neelkanth...’

Shiva stopped for a moment and stared hard at Nandi. Then shaking his head

dismissively, he continued his ministrations.

Shiva had been walking on a paved, signposted road along the River Beas for the better

part of an hour. He had left the rest house to explore the area by himself, much against

a rapidly recovering Nandi’s advice. Nandi was out of danger, but they had to wait for a

few days nevertheless, so that the Captain could be strong enough to travel. There was

not much Shiva could do at the rest house and he had begun to feel resdess. The three

soldiers had tried to shadow Shiva, but he had angrily dismissed them. ‘Will you please

stop trying to stick to me like leeches?’

The rhythmic hymns sung by the gentle waters of the Beas soothed Shiva. A cool

tender breeze teased his thick lock of hair. He rested his hand on the hilt of his

scabbard as his mind swirled with persistent questions.

Is Nandi really more than a hundred years old? But that’s impossible! And what the hell

do these craqy Meluhans need me for anyway? And why in the name of the holy lake is

my bloody throat still feeling so cold?

Lost in his thoughts, Shiva did not realise that he had strayed off the road into a

clearing. Staring him in the face was the most beautiful building he had ever seen. It

was built entirely with white and pink marble. An imposing flight of stairs led up to the

top of a high platform, which had been adorned by pillars around its entire

circumference. The ornate roof was topped by a giant triangular spire, like a giant

‘namaste’ to the gods. Elaborate sculptures were carved upon every available space on

the structure.

Shiva had spent many days in Meluha and all the buildings he had seen so far were

functional and efficient. However, this particular one was oddly flamboyant. At the

entrance, a signpost announced, Temple of Lord Brahma’. The Meluhans appeared to

reserve their creativity for religious places.

There was a small crowd of hawkers around the courtyard in the clearing. Some were

selling flowers, others were selling food. Still others were selling assorted items required

for a puja . There was a stall where worshippers could leave their footwear as they went

up to the temple. Shiva left his shoes there and walked up the steps. Entering the main

temple, he stared at the designs and sculptures, mesmerized by the sheer magnificence

of the architecture.

‘What are you doing here?’

Shiva turned around to find a Pandit staring at him quizzically. His wizened face sported

a flowing white beard matched in length only by his silvery mane. Wearing a saffron

dhoti and angvastram, he had the calm, gende look of a man who had already attained

nirvana , but had chosen to remain on earth to fulfil some heavenly duties. Shiva

realised that the Pandit was the first truly old person that he had seen in Meluha.

‘I am sorry. Am I not allowed in here?’ asked Shiva politely.

‘Of course you are allowed in here. Everyone is allowed into the house of the gods.’

Shiva smiled. Before he could respond however, the Pandit questioned once again, ‘But

you don’t believe in these gods, do you?’

Shiva’s smile disappeared as quickly as it came.

How the hell does he know?

The Pandit answered the question in Shiva’s eyes. ‘Everyone who enters this place of

worship looks only at the idol of Lord Brahma. Almost nobody notices the efforts and the

brilliance of the architects who built this lovely temple. You, however, have eyes only for

the work of the architects. You have not yet cast even a glance upon the idol.’

Shiva grinned apologetically. You guessed right. I don’t believe in symbolic gods. I

believe that the real god exists all around us. In the flow of the river, in the rustle of the

trees, in the whisper of the winds. He speaks to us all the time. All we need to do is

listen. However, I apologise if I have caused some offence in not showing proper

respect for your god.’

You don’t need to apologise, my friend,’ smiled the Pandit. There is no “your god” or

“;my god”. All godliness comes from the same source. Just the manifestations are

different. But I have a feeling that one day you will find a temple worth walking into just

for prayer, not to admire its beauty.’

‘Really? Which temple might that be?’

‘You will find it when you are ready, my friend.’

Why do these Meluhans always talk in bizarre riddles?

Shiva nodded politely, his expression pretending an appreciation for the Pandit’s words

that he did not truly feel. He thought it wise to flee the temple before his welcome was

stretched any further.

‘It’s time to get back to my rest house now, Pandit ji. But I eagerly look forward to finding

the temple of my destiny. It was a pleasure meeting you,’ said Shiva, as he bent down

to touch the Pandit’s feet.

Placing his hand on Shiva’s head, the Pandit said gently, ‘Jai Guru Vishwamitra. Jai

Guru Vashishta.’

Shiva rose, turned and walked down the steps. Looking at Shiva walking away from

him, clearly out of earshot, the Pandit whispered with an admiring smile, for he had

recognised his fellow traveller in karma . ‘The pleasure was all mine, my karmasaathi’

Shiva reached the shoe stall, out on his shoes and offered a coin for the service. The

shoe-keeper politely declined. ‘Thank you Sir, but this is a service provided by the

government of Meluha. There is no charge for it.’

Shiva smiled. ‘Of course! You people have a system for everything. Thank you.’

The shoe-keeper smiled back. ‘We are only doing our duty, Sir.’

Shiva walked back to the temple steps. As he sat down, he breathed in deeply and let

the tranquil atmosphere suffuse him with its serenity. And then it happened. The

moment that every unrealised heart craves for. The unforgettable instant that a soul,

clinging on to the purest memory of its previous life, longs for. The second, that in spite

of a conspiracy of the gods, only a few lucky men experience. The moment when she

enters his life.

She rode in on a chariot, guiding the horses expertly into the courtyard, while a lady

companion by her side held on to the railings. Although her black hair was tied in an

understated bun, a few irreverent strands danced a spellbinding kathak in the wind.

Her piercingly magnetic, blue eyes and bronzed skin were an invitation for jealousy from

the goddesses. Her body, though covered demurely in a long angvastram, still ignited

Shiva’s imagination enough to sense the lovely curves which lay beneath. Her flawless

face was a picture of concentration as she manoeuvred the chariot skilfully into its

parking place. She dismounted the chariot with an air of confidence. It was a calm

confidence which had not covered the ugly distance towards arrogance. Her walk was

dignified. Stately enough to let a beholder know that she was detached, but not cold.

Shiva stared at her like a parched piece of earth mesmerised by a passing rain cloud.

Have mercy on me!

‘My lady, I still feel it’s not wise to wander so far from the rest of your entourage,’ said

her companion.

She answered. ‘Krittika, just because others don’t know the law, doesn’t mean that we

can ignore it. Lord Ram clearly stated that once a year, a pious woman has to visit Lord

Brahma. I will not break that law, no matter how inconvenient it is to the bodyguards!’

The lady noticed Shiva staring at her as she passed by him. Her delicate eyebrows

arched into a surprised and annoyed frown. Shiva made a valiant attempt to tear his

glance away, but realised that his eyes were no longer in his control. She continued

walking up, followed by Krittika.

She turned around at the top of the temple steps, to see the caste unmarked immigrant

at a distance, still staring at her unabashedly. Before turning to walk into the main

temple, she muttered to Krittika, ‘These uncouth immigrants! As if we’ll find our saviour

amongst these barbarians!’

It was only when she was out of sight that Shiva could breathe again. As he desperately

tried to gather his wits, his overwhelmed and helpless mind took one obvious decision

— there was no way he was leaving the temple before getting another look at her. He

sat down on the steps once again. As his breathing and heartbeat returned to normal,

he finally began to notice the surroundings that had been consecrated by her recent

presence. He stared once again at the road on the left from where she had turned in.

She had ridden past the cucumber seller standing near the banyan tree.

Incidentally, why is the cucumber seller not trying to hawk his wares? He just seems to

be staring at the temple. Anyway, it is not any of my concern.

He followed the path that her chariot had taken as it had swerved to its left, around the

fountain at the centre of the courtyard. It had then taken a sharp right turn past the

shepherd standing at the entrance of the garden.

Incidentally, where were this shepherd’s sheep?

Shiva continued to look down the path the chariot had taken into the parking lot. Next to

the chariot stood another man who had just walked into the temple complex, but had

inexplicably not entered the temple itself. He turned to the shepherd and appeared to

nod slightly. Before Shiva could piece together the information that he had just seen, he

felt her presence again. He turned immediately to see her walking down the steps, with

Krittika walking silently behind. Still finding this rude, caste-unmarked, obviously foreign

man staring at her, she walked up to him and asked in a firm but polite voice, ‘Excuse

me, is there a problem?’

‘No. No. There’s no problem. I just felt that I had seen you before somewhere,’ replied a

flustered Shiva.

The lady was not sure how to respond to this. It was obviously a lie but there appeared

to be a sincere voice behind it. Before she could react, Krittika cut in rudely. ‘Is that the

best line you could come up with?’

As Shiva was about to retort, he was alerted by a quick movement from the cucumber

seller. Shiva turned to see him pulling out a sword as he tossed his shawl aside. The

shepherd and the man next to the chariot also stood poised in traditional fighter

positions with their swords drawn. Shiva immediately drew his sword and stretched out

his left hand protectively, to pull the object of his fascination behind him. She however

deftly side-stepped his protective hand, reached into the folds of her angvastram and

drew out her own sword.

Shiva glanced at her, surprised, and flashed her a quick, admiring smile. Her eyes

flashed right back, acknowledging the unexpected yet providential partnership.

She whispered under her breath to Krittika, ‘Run back into the temple. Stay there till this

is over.’

Krittika protested. ‘But my lady...’

‘NOW!’ she ordered.

Krittika turned and ran up the temple steps. Shiva and the lady stood back to back in a

standard defensive-partner position. They covered all the directions of any possible

attack. The three attackers charged in. Two more jumped in from behind the trees to

join the other three. Shiva raised his sword defensively as the shepherd came up close.

Feigning a sideward movement to draw the shepherd into an aggressive attack, Shiva

dropped his sword low. The shepherd should have been tempted to move in for a kill

wound and in response, Shiva would have quickly raised his sword and dug it deep into

the shepherd’s heart.

The shepherd, however, moved unexpectedly. Instead of taking advantage of Shiva’s

opening, he tried to strike Shiva’s shoulder. Shiva quickly raised his right arm and

swung viciously, inflicting a deep wound across the shepherd’s torso. As the shepherd

fell back, another attacker moved in from the right. He swung from a distance. Not too

smart a move, as it would merely have inflicted a surface nick. Shiva stepped back to

avoid the swing and brought his sword down in a smooth action to dig deep into the

attacker’s thigh. Screaming in agony, this attacker too fell back As another attacker

joined in the fight from the left, Shiva realised that this was indeed a very strange

assault.

The attackers seemed to know what they were doing. They seemed to be good

warriors. But they also seemed to be in a bizarre dance of avoidance. They did not

appear to want to kill. Merely injure. It was because they held themselves in check that

they were being beaten back very easily. Shiva parried off another attack from the left

and pushed his sword viciously into the man’s shoulder. The man screamed in pain as

Shiva pushed him off the blade with his left hand. Slowly, but surely, the attackers were

being worn out. They were suffering too many injuries to seriously carry on the assault

for long.

Suddenly a giant of a man ran in from behind the trees carrying swords in both hands.

The man was cloaked in a black hooded robe from head to toe while his face was

hidden by a black mask, shaped exactly like a human face. The only visible parts of his

body were his large impassive almond-shaped eyes and strong fleshy hands. He

charged upon Shiva and the lady as he barked an order to his men. He was too large to

battle with agility. But he compensated for his slow pace with his unusually skilled arms.

Shiva registered from the corner of his eye that the other attackers were picking up the

injured and withdrawing. The hooded figure was fighting a brilliant rearguard action as

his men retreated.

Shiva realised that the man’s hood would impair his side vision. That was a weakness

that could be exploited. Moving to the left, Shiva swung ferociously, hoping to peg him

back so that the lady could finish the job from the other side. But his opponent was up to

the challenge. As he stepped slightly back, he deflected Shiva’s swing with a deft move

of his right hand. Shiva noticed a leather band on the hooded figure’s right wrist. It had a

sharp symbol on it. Shiva swung his sword back but the hooded figure moved aside

effordessly to avoid the blow. He pushed back a brutal flanking attack from the lady with

his left hand. He was keeping just enough distance from Shiva and the lady to defend

himself while at the same time keeping them engaged in combat.

All of a sudden the hooded figure disengaged from the battle and stepped back. He

began to tread backwards as he continued to point both his swords ahead, one at Shiva

and the other at the lady. His men had all disappeared into the trees. As he reached a

safe distance, he turned and ran behind his men. Shiva considered chasing him but

almost immediately decided against it. He might just rush into an ambush.

Shiva turned to the lady warrior and inquired, ‘Are you alright?’

‘Yes I am,’ ‘she nodded before asking with a sombre expression. Are you injured?’

‘Nothing serious. I’ll survive!’ he grinned.

In the meantime, Krittika came running down the temple steps and asked breathlessly,

‘My lady. Are you alright?’

‘Yes I am,’ she answered. ‘Thanks to this foreigner here.’

Krittika turned to Shiva and said, ‘Thank you very much. You have helped a very

important woman.’

Shiva did not seem to be listening though. He continued to stare at Krittika’s mistress as

if he were possessed. Krittika struggled to conceal a smile.

The noble woman averted her eyes in embarrassment, but said politely, ‘I am sorry, but

I am quite sure that we have not met earlier.’

‘No it’s not that,’ said a smiling Shiva. ‘It’s just that in our society, women don’t fight. You

move your sword quite well for a woman.’

O hell! That came out all wrong.

‘Excuse me?’ she said, a slightly belligerent tone in her voice, clearly upset about the

for-a-woman remark. You don’t fight too badly either for a barbarian.’

‘Not too badly?! I’m an exceptional sword fighter! Do you want to try me?’

O bloody hell! What am I saying? I’m not going to impress her like this!

Her expression resumed its detached, supercilious look once again. ‘I have no interest

in duelling with you, foreigner.’

‘No. No. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t want to duel with you. I just wanted to tell you that I

am quite good at sword-fighting. I am good at other things as well. And it came out all

wrong. I rather like the fact that you fought for yourself. You are a very good

swordsman. I mean a swordswoman. In fact, you are quite a woman...,’ bumbled Shiva,

losing the filter of judgement, exactiy at the time when he needed it the most.

Krittika, with her head bowed, smiled at the increasingly appealing exchange.

Her mistress, on the other hand, wanted to chastise the foreigner for his highly

inappropriate words. But he had saved her life. She was bound by the Meluhan code of

conduct. ‘Thank you for your help, foreigner. I owe you my life and you will not find me

ungrateful. If you ever need my help, do call on me.’

‘Can I call on you even if I don’t need your help?’

Shit! What am I saying?!

She glared at the caste-unmarked foreigner who clearly did not know his place. With

superhuman effort, she controlled herself, nodded politely and said, ‘Namaste.’

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.

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