The Oath of the Vayuputras: Shiva Trilogy 3

Chapter 49

Debt to the Neelkanth

Shiva’s army had been divided into three groups, led by Bhagirath, Chandraketu and Maatali. Each group was stationed outside the gates of the three platforms of Devagiri. Maatali’s troops blocked the Svarna platform, Chandraketu’s forces guarded the exit from the Rajat platform and Bhagirath’s troops were at the steps of the Tamra platform. Shiva’s instructions had been followed. Ignoring Kali’s protests, Shiva’s forces informed those within the city that they would be allowed to leave, all except those Kshatriyas who had fought to protect the Somras and those Brahmins who had worked to create the Somras. Daksha and his personal bodyguards, including Vidyunmali, had also been specifically excluded from the amnesty. An evacuation had begun. What amazed the Chandravanshis among Shiva’s troops was the number of citizens who chose to stay on and die with Devagiri.

There were many who came in a disciplined line to the city gates, said a dignified goodbye to their families and walked silently back to their homes to await death. There was no acrimony; no fighting at the gates or attempts to save the city. Not even melodramatic farewells.

Gopal and Kartik had stationed themselves at the Tamra platform, along with Bhagirath’s troops. The soldiers on this side were primarily Brangas. A tired Bhagirath, having just supervised the construction of the perimeter barricades, rejoined them.

The Ayodhyan prince nodded towards the odd movements of citizens at the gate, half of them leaving and the other half returning to the city. ‘What’s going on here?’

Kartik dropped his eyes and said nothing, while Gopal’s eyes welled up.

‘It is becoming a movement amongst the Meluhans,’ said the chief of the Vasudevs. ‘An act of honour. A cause that demands your life. Stay and die with your city. Have your soul purified by allowing yourself to be killed by the Neelkanth...’ He stopped himself, obviously overcome with emotion.

Bhagirath raised his eyebrows. ‘What do you mean?’

Gopal gestured towards the crowd, where yet another woman had said goodbye to a couple, before calmly turning back towards the city. ‘See for yourself,’ he said.

Bhagirath paused for a moment, brows knitted, to study Gopal’s face before turning back to the woman.

‘Excuse me, madam,’ Bhagirath called out to her, and she stopped, turning to face him. ‘Why are you returning to the city? Why are you not evacuating with the others?’

The folds of her angvastram wafted gently in the breeze around her. She had a kind face with dark, quiet eyes and a soft voice. She spoke calmly, as if she was discussing the weather. ‘I am a Meluhan. To be Meluhan is not about the country you live in – it is about how you live, what you believe in. What is the purpose of a long life, if not to strive for something higher? Lord Ram’s most sacred law has been broken. We have fallen. All that we are has already been destroyed. What can we now hope to strive for in this life, if this is our karma?’

Bhagirath couldn’t believe his ears.

The Meluhan woman continued. ‘I believe in the Neelkanth. I have waited for him for so many years, worshipped him. And this is what Meluha has done to him. To our Princess – the most exemplary Meluhan of us all, who lived every breath of her life strictly according to Lord Ram’s code. This is what Meluha has done to our Laws that make us who we are.’ She was quiet for a moment, her eyes searching his. ‘I am guilty. I took the Somras. I followed the Emperor and, through my complacency and silence, was party to everything that conspired to bring this about. If this is Meluha’s evil, then it is my evil too. My karma. I will pay my debt to the Neelkanth this day, and pray that it may allow me to be reborn with a little less sin upon my soul.’

Bhagirath was stunned. What logic was this? She inclined her head in a half nod towards him, and again began walking with perfect composure back into the city.

Gopal’s voice came from behind him. ‘I know. They all say the same thing. I am Meluhan. The Law has been broken. It is my karma.’

They stood in silence together and watched the woman go.

‘Prince Bhagirath.’ The two of them started slightly, pulled out of their silent contemplation.

‘Yes, Kartik?’ said Bhagirath, turning to face him.

‘I want you to call General Parvateshwar.’

‘I have already sent in a messenger to get Anandmayi,’ said Bhagirath. ‘But neither she nor her husband has come as yet. She will not leave without Parvateshwar. I’m still trying to convince the both of them.’

‘Tell them,’ said Gopal, ‘Lord Kartik and I have invited them here. We need to talk about something that is important for India’s future.’

Bhagirath frowned. He knew that what Gopal and Kartik were suggesting was the only way to get his sister and her husband out of Devagiri, tenuous though it may be.

‘I will go into the city myself,’ said Bhagirath.

‘And, Prince Bhagirath...’ Gopal hesitated.

‘I understand, Panditji. I will not breathe a word of this to anyone.’

They stood in silence together, looking at a city that would no longer exist tomorrow.

‘Excuse me,’ said a voice. They turned around to see a small group of Meluhans.

‘Yes?’ asked Kartik.

‘We left the city this morning but have changed our minds now. We would like to stay. May we go back in?’

Gopal stared at them in disbelief, and Bhagirath dropped his eyes, praying that he would be able to convince his sister to leave.



It was late into the third prahar and the sun was on its way down. This would be the last time that the sun would set on Devagiri. Veerini looked up at the sky as she walked out of the Devagiri royal palace.

‘Your Highness,’ saluted a guard smartly, falling into step behind her.

Veerini absently waved her hand and walked towards the gate.

‘Your Highness? Are you leaving?’ asked the shocked guard.

He seemed genuinely stunned that the Meluhan queen was abandoning them and taking up the Neelkanth’s offer of amnesty.

Veerini didn’t bother with a reply but continued walking down the road, towards the Svarna platform gate.

‘Has this been ordered by the Neelkanth?’ asked Anandmayi, before looking at her husband.

Parvateshwar and she were in a secluded section outside the Tamra platform, speaking with Gopal, Kartik and Bhagirath.

‘It’s what he would want,’ said Gopal. ‘He just doesn’t know it at this point of time.’

Parvateshwar frowned. ‘If the Neelkanth has said no, then it means no.’

‘General, I appreciate your loyalty,’ said Gopal. ‘But there is also the larger picture. The Somras is evil now. But it’s not supposed to be completely destroyed. You know as well as I do, it’s only supposed to be taken out of the equation. We have to keep the knowledge of the Somras alive, for it may well be required again. It’s the future of India that we are talking about.’

‘Are you suggesting that the Lord Neelkanth doesn’t care about India?’ asked Parvateshwar.

‘I’m saying no such thing, General,’ said Gopal. ‘But...’

Kartik suddenly stepped in. ‘I appreciate your loyalty to my father. And, I’m sure you’re aware of my love for him as well.’

Parvateshwar nodded, not saying anything.

‘My father is distraught at this point in time,’ said Kartik. ‘You know of his devotion to my mother. The grief of her death has clouded his mind. He is furious, and rightly so. But you also know that his heart is pure. He would not want to do anything that is against his dharma. I only intend to keep the technology of the Somras alive till my father’s rage subsides. If, after calm reflection, he still decides that everything associated with the Somras should be destroyed, I will personally see to it.’

Parvateshwar stared into space, his eyes brooding and dark.

‘And in order to do that you must ensure the survival of the Brahmins, together with their Somras libraries,’ he sighed. ‘Many of those Somras-worshipping intellectuals would grab the opportunity to live. But there are some who have heard the call of honour. Kartik, you cannot coerce a man to forsake his honour. You cannot force him to live, particularly if it is to continue the Somras which his Neekanth has declared Evil, and which is causing the destruction of his homeland.’

Kartik held Parvateshwar’s hand. ‘General, my mother appeared in a dream to me. She told me to do the right thing. She told me to remember how she lived, and not how she died. Even you know she would have done exactly what I’m trying to do.’

Parvateshwar looked up at the sky and quickly wiped a tear. He was quiet for a long time. ‘All right, Kartik,’ he said at last. ‘I will bring those people out. I will talk them out where I can, and force them out where I cannot. But remember, they are your responsibility. They cannot be allowed to propagate Evil any longer. Only the Lord Neelkanth can decide the fate of the Somras. Not you, not Lord Gopal, nor anyone else.’



Veerini rapidly walked down the Svarna platform steps as all the assembled people made way for their queen. Maatali’s forces were in charge here, checking the papers and antecedents of everyone who sought to leave the city. The soldiers saluted Veerini. She acknowledged them distractedly but kept walking towards the massive wooden tower being constructed a good four kilometres from the city. That was the base from which the Pashupatiastra missile would be launched.

As she neared the tower, Veerini could see Shiva issuing instructions. She immediately recognised the woman who stood next to him: Brahaspati’s love, Tara. Ganesh was working with Tara, his brilliant engineering skills coming in handy in building the solid tower. Kali sat a little distance away on a rock, seemingly lost in thought.

Kali was the first to see her. ‘Maa!’

Veerini walked up to Shiva as Kali and Ganesh stepped up.

Shiva looked at Veerini with glazed eyes, the now-constant throbbing pain in his brow making it difficult for him to focus. Veerini had always been struck by Shiva’s eyes; the intelligence, focus and mirth that resided in them. She believed that it was his eyes rather than his blue throat that were the foundation of his charisma. But they now reflected nothing but pain and grief, giving a glimpse into a soul that had lost its reason to live.

Shiva had not for a moment suspected that Veerini was involved with Sati’s assassination in any way. He bowed his head and brought his hands together in a respectful Namaste.

Veerini held Shiva’s hand, her eyes drawn to the throbbing blackish-red blotch on his brow. ‘My son, I can’t even imagine the pain that you are going through.’

Shiva was quiet, looking lost and broken.

‘I gave my word to Sati, a promise she extracted from me just before her death. I am here to fulfil it.’

Shiva’s eyes suddenly found their focus. He looked up at Veerini.

‘She insisted that she be cremated by both her sons.’

Ganesh, who was standing next to Veerini, sucked in his breath as tears slipped from his eyes. Tradition held that while the eldest child cremated the father, it was the youngest who conducted the funeral proceedings of the mother. Also, it was considered inauspicious for Nagas to be involved in any funeral ceremony. So Ganesh had not expected the honour of lighting his mother’s pyre.

Kali turned and held Ganesh.

‘But traditionally only the youngest child can perform the mother’s last rites,’ said Veerini to Shiva. ‘If there is anyone who can challenge that tradition, it is you.’

‘I don’t give a damn about that tradition,’ said Shiva. ‘If Sati wanted it, then it will be done.’

‘I’ll tell Kartik as well,’ said Veerini. ‘I’ve been told he’s at the Tamra platform.’

Shiva nodded silently before looking back towards the building where Sati’s body lay entombed in ice.

Veerini stepped forward to embrace Shiva. He held his mother-in-law lightly.

‘Try to find some peace, Shiva,’ said Veerini. ‘It’s what Sati would have wanted.’

‘Have you been able to find peace?’

Veerini smiled wanly.

‘We will only find peace now when we meet Sati again,’ said Shiva.

‘She was a great woman. Any mother would be proud to have a daughter like her.’

Shiva kept quiet, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

Veerini held Shiva’s hand. ‘I have to tell you this. She could have been alive. When she found out about the conspiracy, she was in Devagiri, in our palace. She could have chosen to stay out of it. But she fought her way out of the city and rushed into the battle to save Nandi and her other bodyguards. And she did save many. She died a brave, honourable, warrior’s death, fighting and challenging her opponents till her last breath. It was the kind of death she always wished for herself; that any warrior wishes for himself.’

Shiva’s eyes welled up again. ‘Sati set very high standards for herself.’

Veerini smiled sadly.

Shiva took a deep breath. He needed to focus on the Pashupatiastra. He folded his hands together into a polite Namaste. ‘I should...’

‘Of course,’ said Veerini. ‘I understand.’

Shiva bent and touched his mother-in-law’s feet. She touched his head gently and blessed him. He turned and walked back to supervise the work on the weapon. This was the only thing that stopped his spirit from imploding.

Veerini turned and embraced her daughter Kali and grandson Ganesh.

‘I have been unfair to the both of you,’ said Veerini.

‘No you haven’t, maa,’ said Kali. ‘It was father who committed the sins. Not you.’

‘But I failed in my duty as a mother. I should have abandoned my husband when he refused to accept you.’

Kali shook her head. ‘You had your duty as a wife as well.’

‘It is not a wife’s duty to support her husband in his misdeeds. In fact, a good wife corrects her husband when he is wrong, even if she has to ram it down his throat.’

‘I don’t think he would have listened, naani,’ said Ganesh to his grandmother, ‘no matter how hard you tried. That man is...’

Veerini looked at her grandson as Ganesh checked himself from insulting his grandfather to her face. She noticed his eyes. They weren’t calm and detached, like they had been the last time she had met him. They were full of rage; repressed fury over his mother’s death.

‘Naani, if you will excuse me. I need to work on the tower.’

‘Of course, my child.’

Ganesh bent down, touched his grandmother’s feet and walked back to Tara.

‘Maa, wait for a bit and Ganesh will take you to our ship,’ said Kali. ‘You can stay there till this is over and then return with us to Panchavati. It would be so wonderful to have you in my home, even if it is a hundred years after it was meant to be. Having you with us will help us all cope with our grief and the vacuum left behind by Sati.’

Veerini smiled and embraced Kali. ‘I’ll have to wait for my next birth to live in your home, my child.’

Kali was taken aback. ‘Maa! You don’t have to be punished for that old goat’s crimes! You will not return to Devagiri!’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Kali. I’m the Queen of Meluha. When Devagiri dies, so shall I.’

‘Of course not!’ cried Kali. ‘There’s no reason...’

‘Would you leave Panchavati on the day of its destruction?’

Kali was stumped. But the Naga queen was not one who gave in easily. ‘That’s a hypothetical question, maa. What is important is that...’

‘What is important, my child,’ interrupted Veerini, ‘is the identity of the man who helped your father execute the conspiracy. Many of the conspirators have escaped, as have the assassins. They will not die here tomorrow. You need to find them. You need to punish them.’