The Lady with the Secrets

Nalash, Patiala, India

 It was evening.

“Rajat, I will not tell you everything. I will take you to someone’s home tonight. We have been here since a long time. You haven’t eaten anything since morning. On our way, I’ll get you some dinner. This place is famous for food-though not the south Indian food that you are used to, but something very different from that. The Jaggi’s is just on our way back, and  the food tastes awesome – that is what I have heard.” Jai smiled at him. “We’ll take a cab, but remember, there’s just one person.”

Rajat laughed. “You aren’t dead Rajat…um…Jai!” He said. “Here we meet- in this way – halfway across the country..” They left the woodlands.

By the sunset, they were in the suburb of Nalash- which was once a village centered on an old Shiva temple. The locals said that if you want to meet Shiva, it can either be at Kailash or at Nalash.  On the 87^th street was a moderate home, where Jai took Rajat. He pressed the doorbell. A lady, seemingly of European decent emerged out.

“Oh my boy!I have been waiting for you!” She said as she opened the gate and led them in.

Rajat felt confused. She led them to the drawing room, where strangely, he saw Vikas.

“Mother, its time for evening prayers.” Vikas said the lady. “The guests shall also join in if they so like.” He added.

Jai and Rajat followed them into a room which was essentially empty except a cupof  burning guggal in the centre that sent up clouds of smoke – making the room fragrant and smoky. In one corner he sawa small  photograph of virginMary. It was all confusingly alien to him.

The woman took up  conch from the floor while Vikas got a huge bell in his hand. She blew the couch loud as Vikas rang the bell rhythmically and broke into Sanskrit chants. Something that reminded Rajat of that night at the crematorium.

Galadha Raktha Mukthavali Khanda Mala,
Maha Gora Raava, Sudamshtra Karala,
Vivasthra Smasanalaya Mukthakesi,
Maha Kala-Kamakulaa Kalikeyam

Wearing a garland of skulls drenched with blood,
Having a fearful form, black in colour with externally projecting teeth,
She is nude and lives in cremation ground with fully untied hair,
And she is Kali busy in love play with the great Lord Shiva.

Rajat felt the vibrations in his mind. They were more intense than ever.  After they finished the prayers, they returned to the drawing room. The woman looked at Rajat.

“I’m Vikas’ mother, Rajat. You can call me Anuradha. I was born Annie though. It doesn’t matter what you call me.” She said.

Rajat nodded his head.

“Well, Jai – your friend might have told you a couple of things. I’m going to tell you a couple of other things, that you must listen attentively.” She continued.

“Your father, the great Rama Uthhappa had an elder brother named Shiva Uthhappa, was; well, to say it mildly – having a psychiatric ailment since he was a child. The treatment was started early, however, the symptoms worsened. By the time, he was thirty two- he had to be confined to a room. Your father was the one taking care of him by now. At NIMHANS, he was admitted on a long term basis and was let out of his room only for two hours in the day and two in the evening in order to walk in the lawns and meet people, and that too under observation. Rukhsaana was a newly admitted Turkish patient, who was probably under chronic depression that was triggered by her traumatic past in the England as a student when she was reportedly defamed by her boyfriend who scandalized a sex session and spread a video involving him and her. Both the patients met each other and surprisingly, since they met- they would long to meet each other all the time. Their symptoms improved as well. The doctors allowed them to meet each other more often and visit each others at their time. That was till the time that it was found out that Rukhsaana was pregnant with Shiv’s baby. The boy was born in the hospital, but sadly, the mother died while giving birth. The father could not endure the loss and lived just a month after her death. The boy was adopted by the brother Rama Uthaappa – your father. That child was you. “

Rajat kept listening attentively.

“ As for Pankaj and Chandrashekharappa – the accountant – they were both killed – by Rama Uthaappa’s men.” She stopped. “Rama is not the man he looks to be.”

A Travel to the Goddess

Patiala, India

It was an hour to dawn break, but the women of this classical town had woken up already. Some of them had set off for Gurudwaras on foot. The Gurudwaras were alive with the recitation of the Japji. It was calm and solemn. It would remain so for next two hours before the Punjabi vibrancy takes over. The noise and traffic were minimal. A distant sound of chants of Gurudwaras and temple bells mixed with the sound of breeze in the trees. The peace was broken by a solitary vehicle here and there.

Rajat and Vibhu arrived at the Rajpura station on the Sutlej Express. As they crossed over for a helitaxi to the downtown, Rajat imbibed the atmosphere of the place in his mind.

“It feels so different.” He said to Vibhu as the taxi took off. The city was a mix of the traditional and the modern. It had grown as a hub of education, music and fashion. However, its residents actively worked to conserve its culture. People came from around the world and got modified to its culture – enriching its composite culture in that process. Rajat looked down at the urban sprawl. They would be at the Moti Bagh helipad in next ten minutes, whereon they would take a cable car to their destination – Baradari.

The city was founded by Baba Ala Singh – a chief of the Sikh clan of Phulkian who were Siddhu Jatts of the area around Barnala. He had defeated the Mughals and carved a principality that he wished to centre around a new city that he built on the fertile mound close to the Delhi-Lahore highway otherwise known as ‘Patti’. Around the rivultes dominted by what is now called ‘Patiala ki Rao’ or ‘Badi Nadi’, he built a fort that he called the ‘Mubarak’ – the blessed one.

More importantly, it was also the city of her Goddess, Kali…..

Ch.2 Coming of the Sages

Chapter 2

Coming of the Sages

1

The Himalayas, India

The foundation had been laid more than three hundred years back. Destruction was initiated by destruction. In just one night, everything except the shrine of Kedarnath was washed away. The northern pilgrimage was stopped. It took four years to revive it. On the very first day of the pilgrimage, there was a huge earthquake. All the pilgrims died. There were huge landslides. Approach to the shrine was destroyed. Only the shrine remained unaffected. Next year, there was huge seismic activity in the area which culminated in a great volcanic eruption which is now known as Mount Bhaskara as its lava seemed as a perpetual rising sun at its top. The pilgrimage was permanently stopped and the area was rendered inaccessible by the human beings. The Hindus cried at the loss.

The area – came to be known as the Hamavant in the religious circles and soon found favor with the recluses, ascetics and spiritualists. The stories of its unparalleled wild beauty, its sweet and unpolluted streams, and its crystal lakes, the ladies of the forest, the mermaids and the celestial nymphs entered the religious folklore with the wandering ascetics. It was so inaccessible and so impermeable by human beings that it came to be believed as the land of the pure – where no soul entangled in material longings could enter. The Government of India tried to make it accessible once again, but every time it tried to do so; some natural calamity would bring all the work to a rumble. The adventurers, who tried sneaking in, were either stalled or annihilated. The only ones who could enter, or at least claimed to, were the sages – who were said to have seen the wonders of the land across the Bhaskara. They talked about a lake of undisturbed water that looked like a mirror kept on land. The celestial nymphs used its waters for washing their tresses – an act that left the water fragrant with their unearthly perfume. Golden lotuses bloomed in that lake and the dust of its pollen that splattered on the river invited drones to feed on them and make a pleasing echo in the air around the lake. The lake was surrounded by beautiful garden full of plants that bore flower and fruits around all the seasons and which were scented with unearthly aromas. Various birds and wild animals lived in those gardens. The sounds of the birds and the animals gave the whole scene a magical and melodious voice. With fresh flowing air, soft green grass and crystal clear water – the whole area was no less than a paradise. The ascetics called it Devamandapam – the alter of the gods. No one knew if it actually existed or not.

 

 He had emerged from the river-bed at the Yamnotri four days back. He had always heard that entering the Hamavant was a second life to the ascetic. It had actually been a similar experience. He had thought that he would starve for air, just at the time when the surface of water started appearing to him. Then an old temple appeared to him, with red flags on its summit, and beyond it – endless white glaciers. He moved westward across the mountains, when after four days he came across a landscape that he had heard of since his childhood – the valley of flowers. There it lay in front of him, stretching in its full bloom, filled with bright colors. He moved westward.

“Gorakshak” He heard a voice from the flowers.

He turned around and saw an old ascetic with white flowing hair, white beard and white clothes. His face exuded grace and glow. He stood amidst the blue flowers. Gorakshak stood there with his gaze fixed on him, and then slowly folded his hands and bowed to him.

“How do you know my name, milord?” he asked in a suppressed astonishment.

“Who in the Hamavant doesn’t?” He answered.

“Give me the opportunity to have your introduction, sir.” Gorakshak asked.

“I am the Bhargava, Rama Jamdagneya - the son of Jamdagni.”

Listening to this, Gorakshak immediately fell down on his knees. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he prostrated to the great sage’s feet.

“Lord Parashurama. Praise be unto you milord!” He cried.

Parashurama raised him up with both his hands. A touch of his hands shook him with divine vibrations.

“Get up son. My hermitage is across the mountain in the west. You need some rest.”

Both of them walked towards the west. Parashurama’s aura exuded positive energy all around. It felt like a wave of joy in his heart.