Vishwamitra

  Dr Vineet Aggarwal

  VISHWAMITRA

  Contents

  About the Author

  Dedication

  Map

  Prologue: Before the Beginning

  Satyavati

  Vishwarath

  Menaka

  Vishwamitra

  Footnote

  Author’s Note

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Follow Penguin

  Copyright

  PENGUIN METRO BOOK

  VISHWAMITRA

  Dr Vineet Aggarwal is a doctor by qualification, manager by profession and artist by temperament. Born in a family of doctors, he successfully completed an initial stint with the family occupation before deciding to venture into pharmaceutical management. He pursues writing as a passion and is an avid travel photographer as well.

  His literary repertoire extends from politics to poetry and travel to terrorism but his favourite genre remains the amalgamation of science and mythology. He is the author of the popular online blogs Decode Hindu Mythology and Fraternity Against Terrorism and Extremism. This is his first book.

  To

  My grandparents, who introduced me to the world of mythology,

  My father, the epitome of truth and kindness,

  My mother, the ray of light in my life, and

  My sister, who taught me the power of a pen

  Prologue: Before the Beginning

  He woke up as if from a deep slumber, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as he tried to make sense of what was around him.

  He seemed to be sitting on a giant flower whose name he did not know.

  Lotus . . . it was as if someone had whispered the name in his ear.

  What colour was it that appealed so much to his senses? Golden . . . the voice said.

  So he was sitting on a gold-coloured lotus, he surmised. But then his bewilderment grew as he realized that even though he now knew where he was sitting, he still did not know his own name.

  Brahma . . . the voice whispered this time.

  It told him he was the First Mortal Being in this new world and the Creator of all other creatures that would follow. Incredible! That sounded like a massive task considering that until a moment ago, he had not even known who he was. He started to scratch his head and ran into an unexpected obstruction. There seemed to be four of them!

  Lowering his eight eyes, he examined himself critically. His body had six long appendages-four on the upper half and two below his waist. He realized he could stand on the lower two and use the upper four to balance himself. He used two of them to feel his face and get an idea of how he looked.

  There seemed to be four weirdly shaped protuberances on top of his torso, each looking in different directions through two apertures. He closed all but two of them and realized that when he did that, his vision was limited to one direction. As he opened all the apertures on his four faces, he got a 360 degree view all around him though he could only see darkness as far as his vision permitted.

  A million questions bubbled in his mind. What did Brahma mean? Why was he all alone? Whose was this voice giving him directions? What did he want him to create? Should he even do what the voice said?

  A deep rumble began to fill the darkness and he heard a monosyllabic sound: OM.

  OM?

  What did that mean? What sort of a word was that? OMMMM . . . the voice said again and he felt his questions dissolving in its unfathomable depth. He sat down on the huge petals of the golden lotus. The incantation continued and he felt himself compelled to say it himself.

  ‘Ommmm . . . ’ he uttered, hearing his own voice for the first time.

  It sounded pleasing, almost like a fleeting reflection of the voice that had told him his name and purpose. He kept repeating the word and it seemed more comprehensible with each repetition.

  It was the sound of creation manifesting by the will of God. It started with an A, the first sound to come out of a mouth struggling to form words; bent itself around a lingering U, stretching on itself, reflecting the space–time continuum; and ended with an M, the sound created by a closing mouth thereby encompassing all possible words that could be formed by opening and closing his mouth.

  He felt a deep calm engulf his being and realized this primeval syllable had emanated from none other than the mind of Narayan, the One who lay in water, at the bottom of this egg-shaped universe. It was He who had informed him about being the first mortal being in this universe. His sharp mind understood the unsaid implication—that Narayan was the Immortal One and existed before him and would do so even after he ceased to exist.

  He saw a vision of Narayan, lying on a huge coiled being at the bottom of the universe. His blue body glowed with a radiance so brilliant that Brahma had to shield his eyes with trembling hands. The Lord had four upper appendages and two lower ones as well. That gave him comfort, since he was obviously made in the reflection of the Maker.

  The long coiled being on which the Lord lay had a thousand bobbing heads with beaded eyes that glared at Brahma impassively. They put the fear of Death in his mind and he gulped nervously. The serpent was Time, the end of all worlds, but Brahma had no cause to worry for he was just beginning his journey, the last step towards salvation.

  As he understood this Eternal Truth, Brahma felt all his anxiety disappear. The purpose of creation was revealed to him. He would create immovable and movable objects to sustain the millions of souls who had lost direction and were looking for a way to reach home.

  Home . . . the abode of Narayan.

  That was where he belonged. That was where everyone belonged. And he had been chosen for this specific task from amongst the teeming millions based on his previous life’s Karma.

  Karma . . . It was what it all boiled down to.

  One’s actions and their consequences formed an intricate web that bound every living soul in this world to every other living being. And they would keep taking birth again and again to balance out these transactions till they were free of the debt they owed each other.

  Samsar . . . That was what this unending circle of life and death was called.

  He had managed to free himself from this cycle to almost the highest limit a living being could and had been chosen for the role of Brahma. He realized with a twinge of guilt that he could have completely bypassed this birth had he put in a little more effort to be free.

  Be that as it may, he needed to focus on the task at hand and fulfil it to the best of his abilities so that he could get rid of this material body in this birth itself. He had a hundred years to live, each year filled with 360 days and the same number of nights.

  His excitement grew as he realized what lay ahead of him. His mind was already bursting with ideas that seemed too fancy. He imagined building light points in the darkness and calling them stars. There would be clusters of these stars in various formations and together they would fill this universe with a warm glow.

  Each star would have smaller globes circling it on which different souls would find a place to reside and fulfil their Karma. The panch mahabhoot would be his building blocks and he was free to try various permutations and combinations and create beings that dwelt in water, air, fire or anyplace at all, as per his desire.

  Names started popping into his head as he thought of what all he would create-small unicellular beings that would clump and divide resulting in various other, higher life forms that could breathe, work, sleep, eat, reproduce and strive for salvation just like him. Plants and animals, humans and nymphs, dinosaurs and dragons, demons and demigods . . . The possibilities were endless and he rubbed his hands in glee.

  There would be families, dynasties and kingdoms; civilizations, empires and interstellar alliances; avarice, altruism and a
mbition; monsters, mysticism and machines; politics, propriety and philosophy; and of course lust, love and wars.

  Brahma, the First Mortal Being of the Universe, was ready. It was time to begin the beginning.

  SATYAVATI

  Adhyaye 1

  Sunlight streamed through the latticework, creating patterns on the thick rug below his feet. Sparrows chirped on the windowsill and the fragrance of lotus blooms suffused the air. Kadhi, the king of Mahodayapur, anxiously paced outside his wife’s bedchamber.

  As he came to a halt at the window, the soft northern wind blew his curly hair away from his high forehead, revealing an angular yet handsome face with deep-set hazel eyes, an aquiline nose and a strong, determined jawline. A scar cut across his left cheek and ended just below the earlobe-remnant of the victory he had obtained against the barbaric hordes of the west.

  He wondered why, despite all his royal accomplishments, the personal lives of his family had not been that great. For reasons best known to the gods, they had not been very lucky in terms of an heir. Ghritachi was an Apsara who had fallen in love with a mortal, his father, Prince Kushanabh. Though the king and queen had given their blessings to the young couple, destiny, as was generally observed, had its own plans.

  The human–nymph pairing could only produce daughters, since Apsaras could only give birth to Apsaras. While the daughters were beautiful, blessed with their mother’s looks, they were also a proud lot, perhaps for the very same reason.

  When approached by Vayu, the lord of air, with a marriage proposal, they refused as they believed they deserved someone even better. Enraged, the fierce Vayu decided to teach them some humility and cursed them to lose their looks and become hunchbacks. The royal family drowned in sorrow and the capital city came to be known as Kanyakubja, the city of hunchbacked maidens.

  Kushanabh was devastated but decided to seek divine intervention. He consulted the high priests and convinced them to organize a Putra-kaam-eshti Yagnya to propitiate the gods and bless him with an heir.

  Thus was born Kadhi, a bouncy baby boy blessed by no less than Indra himself.

  And now that his wife was expecting, he just wanted a healthy child and did not care whether it was a boy or a girl. He did not have to wait long. Soon the cries of the newborn filled the palace and turned the anxious environment cheerful in an instant.

  Almost immediately, the intricately carved teak doors of the bedchamber opened and two maids came running towards him with the good news. His queen had given birth to a beautiful and healthy baby, fair like the jasmine flowers blooming in his garden.

  Kadhi was beside himself with joy and rewarded the maids with two of his most cherished rings. Having been dealt a cruel blow by the gods of fate before, his adoptive parents had worried if he would ever be blessed with a child himself. Nothing would give them more pleasure than the news that his wife and newborn child were healthy and the lineage of his adoptive forefathers would go on.

  He entered the queen’s chamber, instructing the maids to share the good news with his parents and the rest of the royal family. As he ran to his wife’s bedside, the other maids took a step back and melted into the shadows to give the royal family a moment of privacy.

  Kadhi hugged his wife, setting eyes on his daughter for the first time.

  The infant lay next to her mother, wrapped in soft muslin. Her rosy cheeks were stained with tears and the toothless mouth was still complaining to the skies.

  He picked her up gingerly and looked into her deep-brown eyes. Tears of joy fell from his eyes and he quietly made a resolve to himself. He would groom his daughter as the heir to his kingdom, regardless of her gender.

  He would break the curse on his family and turn their luck around.

  Adhyaye 2

  ‘Satyavati!’

  Kadhi called out as he entered Rani Mahal, the palace of queens.

  Any of the hundred palace maids could have summoned the princess but he waved them away. Though a stickler for protocol in the Raj Bhavan, when at home he liked to have a semblance of a normal family life and spend time with his wife and daughter.

  Sometimes he felt he had not devoted enough time to Satyavati, for it seemed like just yesterday that the little bundle of joy had so vociferously announced her arrival in their palace.

  What had followed was a festival the likes of which had not been seen in Mahodayapur before. The royal family had been relieved that no genetic defects were found in the baby and called for a celebration inviting the neighbouring kings to the gala.

  Kulguru Dhanu had named her Satyavati, the one who imbibes truth, and as she grew up Kadhi made sure she received the education and military training a male heir would have. Lately, he had started getting the feeling that the time to crown her was not far and, before that happened, he wanted to spend as much time with her as his duties to the kingdom would allow.

  As he turned a corner, he saw her walking towards him gracefully.

  He found a reflection of his wife’s beauty in his daughter’s face. Thick lashes gave definition to deep-brown doe eyes and her bronze skin and high cheekbones painted a pretty picture. An emerald-green angavastra was draped around her athletic body in a manner that would allow easy movement, unlike the garments worn by the other princesses in the palace. Her hand rested on the hilt of the dagger tied to her waist.

  Queen Ratna accompanied her. She was dressed in regal finery that would make the Apsaras in Indra’s court envious and looked like a slightly older version of Satyavati. King Kadhi loved the two ladies in his life and was thankful to God that they both loved him back with equal devotion.

  As Satyavati came running into his arms he felt pride in having been blessed with such an obedient and loving child. Kadhi gestured to the guards and maids to leave them alone and the trio walked leisurely towards the small lake full of lavender water lilies and snow-white swans.

  Every evening, the small family spent time by the water, talking about things that could enhance Satyavati’s education, yet would not seem too boring. In the afternoon, she would hear stories about their glorious Chandravanshi ancestors from her grandfather and in the evening would ask her father to fill in the details that may have been missed.

  Today, she wanted to know more about Jahnu, a much-talked-about ancestor, who had conducted the Sarva-medham Yagnya for the benefit of mankind. Legend had it that Goddess Ganga had desired him as a husband but was refused by the ascetic king. Grandfather Kushanabh had ended the story at that point but Satyavati knew there was more to it.

  She coaxed her father to continue and the king was more than happy to oblige. He thought for a few moments about how to present the story to his young, impressionable daughter and then began, ‘All right, so Jahnu refused Ganga’s wedding proposal on the grounds that he had become an ascetic but Ganga was tumultuous and wont to have her own way. When her mighty waters could break boulders into gravel what was the will of a mere human!

  ‘While the great yagnya was being performed, Ganga altered her normal course and rushed towards the yagnyasthala, the ritual site, in order to flood the area and disrupt his sacrifice.’

  Satyavati was surprised; she had always thought of the river as a mother who rid the world of its sins but then, she acknowledged, there could have been a bit of rebellion in the goddess when she was younger.

  Meanwhile Kadhi continued animatedly, ‘When Jahnu saw the entire yagnyasthala being flooded on purpose, he lost his cool. Highly offended at this intrusion, he summoned the mystical powers of his tapasya and drank the entire river.’

  Both Ratna and Satyavati gave a start. An entire river swallowed by a human with mystical powers? Who would have thought!

  Kadhi looked at their expressions and chuckled softly. ‘Don’t take the story too literally, my dears. I am sure the rishi must have used his siddhis to delude the goddess into believing what he wanted her to, in order to teach her a lesson. After all, there is a limit to one’s physical capacity but none to the powers of the mind.’
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br />   Satyavati nodded softly. Yes, that sounded more plausible but then you never knew with these rishis! They had such mastery over their physical environment that they could easily perform the feats impossible for ordinary mortals.

  ‘When the river goddess pleaded for mercy, Jahnu released her conditionally, admonishing her not to force her will on anyone again. He told her she was destined to obtain a great king as a husband and blessed her, saying that she would give birth to a son who would change Aryavarta forever. That prophesy is yet to be fulfilled and perhaps we may be witness to it in our lifetimes,’ Kadhi declared with a dreamy look.

  Sighing, he continued, ‘Whatever the future holds, let us finish the stories of the past for now. Since Jahnu had given a sort of rebirth to the river, she was thenceforth referred to as Jahnavi. The great yagnya was completed and Jahnu returned to his kingdom. His subjects requested him for an heir and, to fulfil his duty to his people, Jahnu married Kaveri, another river goddess.’

  At this point the queen added, ‘Some say it was Ganga herself who took the form of Kaveri since she was still infatuated with the ascetic who had broken her pride. Whatever the truth, Kaveri is still known as Dakshin Ganga and the story of Ganga and Jahnu is famous amongst my people living along its banks.’

  Kadhi rubbished it as a fairy tale but Satyavati was lost in deep thought.

  How potent could a woman’s determination be in changing the course of history! Had Ganga not flooded the yagnyasthala, Jahnu would not have blessed her with the promise that the future held. Who knew what that future would be? Suddenly she got goosebumps from the excitement coursing through her veins.

  ‘Father,’ she said timidly, ‘Grandfather has told me the story of our forefathers, the great kings Ikshvaku, Nabhag, Jahnu and Pururavas. Each of them has stories that inspire one to achieve something stupendous in life. My training is proceeding well and however boring they may be, I am learning the scriptures diligently. But when will the time come for me to actually put all of this to use?’