‘My Lord, please have faith in us. You will know the truth soon. The emperor himself will tell you when you reach Devagiri.’

‘And what about my tribe?’

‘They will be given lands right here in Kashmir, my Lord. All the resources that they need to lead a comfortable life will be provided for.’

‘Are they being held hostage?’

‘Oh no, my Lord,’ said a visibly disturbed Chenardhwaj. ‘They are your tribe, my Lord. If I had my way, they would live like nobility for the rest of their lives. But the laws cannot be broken, my Lord. Not even for you. We can only give them what had been promised. In the course of time my Lord, you can decide to change the laws you feel necessary. Then we could certainly accommodate them anywhere.’

‘Please, my Lord,’ pleaded Nandi. ‘Have faith in us. You cannot imagine how important you are to Meluha. We have been waiting for a very long time for you. We need your help.’

Please help me! Please!

The memory of another desperate plea from a distraught woman years ago returned to haunt Shiva as he was stunned into silence.

‘Your destiny is much larger than these massive mountains.’

Nonsense! I don’t deserve any destiny. If these people knew my guilt, they would stop this bullshit instantly!

‘I don’t know what to do, Bhadra.’

Shiva was sitting in the royal gardens on the banks of the Dal Lake while his friend sat at his side, carefully filling some marijuana into a chillum. As Bhadra used the lit stick to bring the chillum to life, Shiva said impatiently, ‘That’s a cue for you to speak, you fool.’

‘No. That’s actually a cue for me to hand you the chillum, Shiva.’

‘Why will you not council me?’ asked Shiva in anguish. ‘We are still the same friends who never made a move without consulting each other!’

Bhadra smiled. ‘No we are not. You are the Chief now. The tribe lives and dies by your decisions. It cannot be corrupted by any other person’s influence. We are not like the Pakratis, where the Chief has to listen to whoever is the loudmouth on their council. Only the chief’s wisdom is supreme amongst the Gunas. That is our tradition.’

Shiva raised his eyes in exasperation. ‘Some traditions are meant to be broken!’

Bhadra stayed silent. Stretching his hand, Shiva grabbed the chillum from Bhadra. He took one deep puff, letting the marijuana spread its munificence into his body.

‘I’ve heard just one line about the legend of the Neelkanth,’ said Bhadra. ‘Apparently Meluha is in deep trouble and only the Neelkanth can save them.’

‘But I can’t seem to see any trouble out here? Everything seems perfect. If they want to see real trouble we should take them to our land!’

Bhadra laughed slightiy. ‘But what is it about the blue throat that makes them believe you can save them?’

‘Damned if I know! They are so much more advanced than us. And yet they worship me like I am some god. Just because of this blessed blue throat’

‘I think their medicines are magical though. Have you noticed that the hump on my back has reduced a litde bit?’

‘Yes it has! Their doctors are seriously gifted.’

‘You know their doctors are called Brahmins?’

‘Like Ayurvati?’ asked Shiva, passing the chillum back to Bhadra.

‘Yes. But the Brahmins don’t just cure people. They are also teachers, lawyers, priests, basically any intellectual profession.’

‘Talented people,’ sniffed Shiva.

‘That’s not all,’ said Bhadra, in between a long inhalation.

‘They have a concept of specialisation. So in addition to the Brahmins, they have a group called Kshatriyas, who are the warriors and rulers. Even the women can be Kshatriyas!’

‘Really? They allow women into their army?’

‘Well, apparently there aren’t too many female Kshatriyas. But yes, they are allowed into the army.’

‘No wonder they are in trouble!’

The friends laughed loudly at the strange ways of the Meluhans. Bhadra took another puff from the chillum before continuing his story. ‘And then they have Vaishyas, who are craftsmen, traders and business people and finally the Shudras who are the farmers and workers. And one caste cannot do another caste’s job.’

‘Hang on,’ said Shiva. ‘That means that since you are a warrior, you would not be allowed to trade at the marketplace?’

‘Yes.’

‘Bloody stupid! How would you get me my marijuana? After all that is the only thing you are useful for!’

Shiva leaned back to avoid the playful blow from Bhadra. ‘All right, all right. Take it easy!’ he laughed. Stretching out, he grabbed the chillum from Bhadra and took another deep drag.

We’re talking about everything except what we should be talking about.

Shiva became serious again. ‘But seriously, strange as they are, what should I do?’

‘What are you thinking of doing?’

Shiva looked away, as if contemplating the roses in the far corner of the garden. ‘I don’t want to run away once again.’

‘What?’ asked Bhadra, not hearing Shiva’s tormented whisper clearly.

‘I said,’ repeated Shiva loudly, ‘I can’t bear the guilt of running away once again.’

‘That wasn’t your fault...’

‘YES IT WAS!’

Bhadra fell silent. There was nothing that could be said. Covering his eyes, Shiva sighed once again. ‘Yes, it was...’

Bhadra put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, pressing it gently, letting the terrible moment pass. Shiva turned his face. ‘I’m asking for advice, my friend. What should I do? If they need my help, I can’t turn away from them. At the same time, how can I leave our tribe all by themselves out here? What should I do?’

Bhadra continued to hold Shiva’s shoulder. He breathed deeply. He could think of an answer. It may have been the correct answer for Shiva, his friend. But was it the correct answer for Shiva, the leader!

‘You have to find that wisdom yourself, Shiva. That is the tradition.’

‘O the hell with you!’

Shiva threw the chillum back at Bhadra and stormed away.

In was only a few days later that a minor caravan consisting of Shiva, Nandi and three soldiers was scheduled to leave Srinagar. The small party would ensure that they moved quickly through the realm and reached Devagiri as soon as possible. Governor Chenardhwaj was anxious for Shiva to be recognised quickly by the empire as the true Neelkanth. He wanted to go down in history as the governor who found the Lord.

Shiva had been made ‘presentable’ for the emperor. His hair had been oiled and smoothened. Lines of expensive clothes, attractive ear-rings, necklaces and other jewellery were brought to adorn his muscular frame. His fair face had been scrubbed clean with special Ayurvedic herbs to remove years of dead skin & decay. A cravat had been fabricated out of cotton to cover his glowing blue throat. Beads had been cleverly darned on to the cravat to make it look like the traditional necklaces that Meluhan men wore while on religious exercises. The cravat felt warm on his still cold throat.

‘I will be back soon,’ said Shiva as he hugged Bhadra’s mother. He was amazed that the old lady’s limp was a little less noticeable.