‘But I thought that Lord Brahma had decreed that people became Brahmins through a competitive examination process,’ said Shiva.

‘That is true my Lord. But over time this process of selection lost its fairness. Children of Bralimins became Brahmins. Children of Kshatriyas became Kshatriyas and so on. The formal system of selection soon ceased to exist. A father would ensure that his children got all the resources and support needed to grow up and become a member of his own caste. So the caste system became rigid.’

‘So did that also mean that there could have been a person talented enough to be a Brahmin but if he was born to Shudra parents, he would not get the opportunity to become a Brahmin?’ asked Shiva.

‘Yes Shiva,’ said Parvateshwar, speaking for the first time to Shiva. He noticed that Parvateshwar did not fawn over him and call him Lord. ‘In Lord Ram’s view, any society that conducted its transactions based on anything besides merit could not be stable. His view was that a person’s caste should be decided only on that person’s karma. Not his birth. Not his sex. No other reason should interfere.’

‘That is nice in theory, Parvateshwar,’ argued Shiva. ‘But how do you ensure it in practice. If a child is born in a Brahmin family, he would get the upbringing and resources which would be different from that of a child born in a Shudra family. So this child would grow up to be a Brahmin even if he was less talented than the Shudra boy. Isn’t this unfair to the child born in the Shudra family? Where is the “merit” in this system?’

‘That was the genius of Lord Ram, Shiva,’ smiled Parvateshwar. ‘He was of course a brave general, a brilliant administrator and a fair judge. But his greatest legacy is the system he created to ensure that a person’s karma is determined only by his abilities, nothing else. That system is what has made Meluha what it is — the greatest nation in history’

‘You can’t underestimate the role that Somras has played, Parvateshwar,’ said Daksha. ‘Lord Ram’s greatest act was to provide the Somras to everyone. The elixir is what makes Meluhans the smartest people in the universe! The Somras is what has given us the ability to create this remarkable and near perfect society.’

‘Begging your pardon, your Highness,’ said Shiva before turning back to Parvateshwar. ‘But what was the system that Lord Ram set up?’

‘The system is simple,’ said Parvateshwar. ‘As we agreed, the best society is when a person’s caste is decided only by his abilities and karma. Not by any other factor. Lord Ram created a practical system that ensured this. All children that are born in Meluha are compulsorily adopted by the empire. To ensure that this is done methodically, a great hospital city called Maika was built deep in the south, just north of the Narmada river. All pregnant women have to travel there for their delivery. Only pregnant women are allowed into the city. Nobody else.’

‘Nobody else? What about her husband, her parents?’ asked Shiva.

‘No, there are no exceptions to this rule except for one. This exception was voted in around three hundred years ago. Husbands and parents of women of noble families were allowed to enter,’ answered Parvateshwar, his expression clearly showing that he violendy disagreed with this corruption of Lord Ram’s system.

‘Then who takes care of the pregnant woman in Maika?’

‘The hospital staff. They are well trained in this,’ continued Parvateshwar. ‘Once the child is born, he or she is kept in Maika for a few weeks for health reasons while the mother travels back to her own city’

‘Without her child?’ asked a clearly surprised Shiva.

‘Yes,’ replied Parvateshwar, with a slight frown as if this was the most obvious fact in the world. ‘The child is then put into the Meluha Gurukul, a massive school created by the empire close to Maika. Every single child receives the benefit of exacdy the same education system. They grow up with all the resources of the empire available to them.’

‘Do they maintain records of the parents and their children?’

‘Of course they do. But the records are kept in utmost secrecy and only with the record-keeper of Maika.’

‘That would mean that in the Gurukul or in the rest of the empire, nobody would know who the child’s birth parents are,’ reasoned Shiva, as he worked out the implications of what he was hearing. ‘So every child, whether born to a Brahmin or a Shudra, would get exacdy the same treatment at the Gurukul?’

‘Yes,’ smiled Parvateshwar. He was clearly proud of the system. ‘As the children enter the age of adolescence, they are all given the Somras. Thus every child has exactly the same opportunity to succeed. At the age of fifteen, when they have reached adulthood, all the children are given a comprehensive examination. The results of this examination decide which varna or caste the child will be allocated to — Brahmin, Kshatriya, Vaishya or Shudra.’

Kanakhala cut in. ‘And then the children are given one more year’s caste-specific training. They wear their varna colour bands — white for Brahmins, red for Kshatriyas, green for Vaishyas and black for Shudras — and retreat to the respective caste schools to complete their education.’

‘So that’s why your caste system is called the varna system,’ said Shiva. ‘Varna means colour, right?’

‘Yes my Lord,’ smiled Kanakhala. You are very observant.’

With a withering look at Kanakhala, Parvateshwar added sarcastically, ‘Yes, that was a very difficult conclusion to draw.’

Ignoring the barb, Shiva asked, ‘So what happens after that?’

‘When the children turn sixteen, they are allocated to applicant parents from their caste. For example, if some Brahmin parents had applied to adopt a child, one randomly chosen student from Maika, who had won the Brahmin caste in the examination, will be allotted to them. Then the child grows up with these adopted parents as their own child.’

‘And society is perfect,’ marvelled Shiva, as the simple brilliance of the system enveloped his mind. ‘Each person is given a position in society based only on his own abilities. The efficiency and fairness of this system is astounding!’

‘Over time my Lord,’ interjected Daksha, ‘we found the percentage of higher castes actually going up in the population. Which means that everybody in the world has the ability to excel. All it takes is for a child to be given a fair chance to succeed.’

‘Then the lower castes must have loved Lord Ram for this?’ asked Shiva. ‘He gave them an actual chance to succeed.’

‘Yes they did love him,’ answered Parvateshwar. ‘They were his most loyal followers. Jai Shri Ram!’

‘But I guess not too many mothers would have been happy with this. I can’t imagine a woman willingly giving up her child as soon as he is born with no chance of meeting him ever again.’

‘But it’s for the larger good,’ said Parvateshwar, scowling at the seemingly stupid question. ‘And in any case, every mother who wants an offspring can apply for one and be allocated a child who suits her position and dreams. Nothing can be worse for a mother than having a child who does not measure up to her expectations.’

Shiva frowned at Parvateshwar’s explanation, but let the argument pass. ‘I can also imagine that many of the upper castes like the Brahmins would have been unhappy with Lord Ram. After all, they lost their stranglehold on power.’