‘When it’s so valuable, it can’t be easy. Can it?’

Brahaspati smiled and patted Shiva on his hand.

Veerbhadra knew what his friend needed. Dance and music. It always improved his mood. ‘Don’t people sing and dance in this wretched country.’

‘Private Veerbhadra,’ said Nandi, his tone different with a subordinate, ‘firstly, this country is not wretched. It’s the greatest land in the world.’

Veerbhadra playfully put his hands together in a mock apology.

‘Secondly,’ continued Nandi, ‘we dance only when an occasion demands it, like the Holi festival or a public performance.’

‘But the greatest joy of dancing is when you do it for no reason at all, Captain,’ said Veerbhadra.

‘I agree,’ said Shiva.

Nandi immediately fell silent.

Without any warning, Veerbhadra suddenly burst out into one of the folk songs of his region. Shiva smiled at his friend, for Veerbhadra was singing one of his favourites. Continuing to sing, Veerbhadra rose slowly and began dancing to the lilting tune, now accompanied by Shiva. The combination of marijuana and dance immediately changed his mood.

Brahaspati stared at Shiva, first in shock and then with pleasure. He noticed a pattern in their dancing, a smooth six-step combination repeated rhythmically. Shiva reached out and pulled Brahaspati and Nandi to their feet. They joined in, tentative at first. But it was only a matter of time before a reluctant Brahaspati was dancing with abandon. The group moved together in a circle around the fire, the singing louder and livelier.

Shiva suddenly darted out of the ring towards Sati. ‘Dance with me.’

A flabbergasted Sati shook her head.

‘Oh come on! If you can dance while your Guruji and I watch, why not here?’

‘That was for knowledge!’ said Sati.

‘So? Is it wrong if we’re not dancing for knowledge?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Fine. Have it your way,’ said Shiva with a frustrated gesture. ‘Ayurvati, come!’

A starded Ayurvati didn’t know how to react. Before she could decide on a course of action, Shiva held her hand and pulled her into the circle. Veerbhadra lured Krittika in as well. The group danced boisterously and sang loudly, making a racket in an otherwise quiet night. Sati got up, clearly agitated, glared at Shiva’s back and ran into the rest-house. Shiva’s anger rose even higher as he noticed her absence when he turned towards the veranda.

Damn!

He got back to his dance, his heart in a strange mixture of pain and joy. He turned once again towards the veranda. There was nobody.

Who’s behind that curtain?

Shiva was dragged into the next move by Veerbhadra. It was a few moments later that Shiva was in a position to look again at the veranda. He could see Sati, outlined behind the curtain, staring at him. Only at him.

Wow!

A surprised and delighted Shiva swung back into his dance, moving in his prime form. He had to impress her!

CHAPTER 13

Blessings of the Impure

Kotdwaar was in all its glory to receive the Neelkanth. Torches had been lit across the fort perimeter as if it was Diwali. Red and blue pennants, embellished with the Suryavanshi Sun, had been hung down the fort walls. In a rare breach of protocol, the governor had come outside the city to personally receive the Neelkanth. After the formal exhibition of the Neelkanth for the Kotdwaar elite at the local court, a public function had been organised the following day. Sixty-five thousand people, practically the entire population of Kotdwaar, had converged for the event. Considering the vast number of attendees, the event had been organised outside the city platform to ensure that every person could be accommodated.

A speech by Shiva convinced the Kotdwaarans that Meluha’s days of trouble were soon to end. The remarkable effect Shiva seemed to have on the people was a revelation to him. Though he was careful with his words, telling them that he would do all he could to support the people of Meluha, the public made their own interpretations.

‘The cursed Chandravanshis will finally be destroyed,’ said one man.

‘We don’t have to worry about anything now. The Neelkanth will take care of everything,’ said a woman.

Seated with Brahaspati and Sati on the speaker’s platform, Parvateshwar was deeply unhappy at the public’s reaction. Turning to the chief scientist, he said, ‘Our entire society is based on laws and we are not supposed to blindly follow anyone. We are expected to solve our problems ourselves and not hope for miracles from a solitary man. What has this man done to deserve such blind faith?’

‘Parvateshwar,’ said Brahaspati politely, for he greatly respected him. ‘I think Shiva is a good man. I think he cares enough to want to do something. And aren’t good intentions the first step towards any good deed?’

Parvateshwar didn’t completely agree. Never a believer in the legend of the Neelkanth, the general thought that every man or woman had to earn his station in life with training and preparation, not just get it on a silver platter because of a blue throat. ‘Yes, that may be true. But intentions aren’t enough. They have to be backed by ability as well. Here we are, putting an untrained man on a pedestal and acting as though he is our saviour. For all we know, he might lead us to complete disaster. We are acting on faith. Not logic or laws or even experience.’

‘Sometimes one needs a little bit of faith when faced with a difficult situation. Rational answers don’t always work. We also need a miracle.’

‘You’re talking about miracles? A scientist?’

‘You can have scientific miracles too, Parvateshwar,’ smiled Brahaspati.

Parvateshwar was distracted by the sight of Shiva stepping off the platform. As he came down there was a surge of people wanting to touch his hand. The soldiers, led by Nandi and Veerbhadra, were holding them back. There was one blind man amongst them who looked like he might be injured in the melee.

‘Nandi, let that man through,’ said Shiva.

Nandi and Veerbhadra lowered the rope to let him in.

Another man shouted, ‘I am his son. He needs me to guide him.’

‘Let him in as well,’ said Shiva.

The son rushed in and held his father’s hand. The blind man, who seemed lost without his son’s hand, smiled warmly as he recognised the familiar touch. He was led close to Shiva and the son said, ‘Father, the Neelkanth is right in front of you. Can you sense his presence?’

Copious tears flowed from the blind man’s eyes. Without thinking, he bent down to try and touch Shiva’s feet. His son cried out in shock as he pulled the man back sharply.

‘Father!’ scolded the son.

Shiva was stunned by the harshness in the son’s tone compared to the loving manner in which he had spoken so far. ‘What happened?’

‘I am sorry, my Lord,’ apologised the son. ‘He didn’t mean to. He just lost control due to your presence.’

‘I am sorry, my Lord,’ said the blind man, his tears flowing stronger.

‘Sorry for what?’

‘He is a vikarma, my Lord,’ said his son, ‘ever since disease blinded him twenty years ago. He should not have tried to touch you.’

Sati, who was now standing near Shiva, had heard the entire conversation. She felt sympathy for the blind man. She knew the torment of having even your touch considered impure. But what he had tried to do was illegal.