‘This is the time of the year for religious vows, my Lord,’ explained Nandi. Why don’t you wait on the side? There are some good restaurants on the lane at the right. I will just go and check if we have a restaurant owner who has not taken his vows.’
Shiva nodded his ascent. As Nandi hurried off, Shiva looked around the street. It was a busy market area with restaurants and shops spread evenly. But despite the large number of people and the commerce being conducted, the street was not bursting with noise. None of the shopkeepers came out to scream and advertise their wares. The customers spoke softly and in an unfailingly polite manner, even if they were bargaining.
These well-mannered idiots would not be able to get any business done in our boisterous mountain market!
Shiva, lost in his thoughts about the strange practices of the Meluhans, did not hear the announcement of the town crier till he was almost right behind him.
‘Procession of vikarma women. Please move!’
A surprised Shiva turned around to find a tall Meluhan Kshatriya looking down at him. ‘Would you like to move aside, sir? A procession of vikarma women needs to pass for their prayers.’
The crier’s tone and demeanour was unquestionably courteous. But Shiva was under no illusions. The crier was not asking Shiva to move. He was telling him. Shiva stepped back to let the procession pass as Nandi touched him gendy on his arm.
‘I have found a good restaurant, my Lord,’ said an ecstatic Nandi. ‘One of my favourites. And his kitchen is going to run for at least an hour more. A lot of food to stuff ourselves with!’
Shiva laughed out loud. ‘It’s a wonder that just one restaurant can actually make enough food to satisfy your hunger!’
Nandi laughed along good naturedly as Shiva patted his friend on the back.
As they turned and walked into the lane, Shiva asked, ‘Who are vikarma women?’
‘Vikarma people, my Lord,’ said Nandi sighing deeply, ‘are people who have been punished in this birth for the sins of their previous birth. Hence they have to live this life out with dignity and tolerate their present sufferings with grace. This is the only way they can wipe their karma clean of the sins of their previous births. Vikarma men have their own order of penance and women have a different order.’
‘There was a procession of vikarma women on the road we just left. Is their puja a part of the order?’ asked Shiva.
‘Yes, my Lord. There are many rules that the vikarma women have to follow. They have to pray for forgiveness every month to Lord Agni, the purifying Fire God, through a specifically mandated puja. They are not allowed to marry since they may poison others with their bad fate. They are not allowed to touch any person who is not related to them or is not part of their normal duties. There are many other conditions as well that I am not completely aware of. If you are interested, we could meet up with a Pandit at the Agni temple later and he could tell you all about vikarma people.’
‘No, I am not interested in meeting the Pandit right now,’ said Shiva with a smile. ‘He might just bore me with some very confusing and abstruse philosophies! But tell me one thing. Who decides that the vikarma people had committed sins in their previous birth?’
‘Their own karma, my Lord,’ said Nandi, his eyes pointing at the obvious. ‘For example if a woman gives birth to a still born child, why would she be punished thus unless she had committed some terrible sin in her previous birth. Or if a man suddenly contracts an incurable disease and gets paralysed, why would it happen to him unless the universe was penalising him for the sins of his previous life.’
‘That sounds pretty ridiculous to me. A woman could have given birth to a still born child simply because she did not take proper care while she was pregnant. Or it could just be a disease. How can anyone say that she is being punished for the sins of her previous birth?’
Nandi, shocked by Shiva’s opinion, struggled to find words to respond. He was a Meluhan and deeply believed in the concept of karma being carried over many births. He mumbled sofdy, ‘It’s the law, my Lord...’
‘Well, to be honest, it sounds like a rather unfair law to me.’
Nandi’s crestfallen face showed that he was profoundly disappointed that Shiva did not understand such a fundamental concept about Meluha. But he also kept his counsel for fear of opposing what Shiva said. After all, Shiva was his Lord.
Seeing a dejected Nandi, Shiva patted him gendy on the back. ‘Nandi, that was just my opinion. If the law works for your people, I am sure there must be some logic to it. Your society might be a litde strange at times, but it has some of the most honest and decent people I have ever met.’
As a smile returned almost instantly to Nandi’s face, his whole being was overcome by his immediate problem. His debilitating hunger! He entered the restaurant as a man on a mission, with Shiva chuckling softly behind.
A short distance away on the main road, the procession of vikarma women walked silently on. They were all draped in long angvastrams which were dyed in the holy blue colour. Their heads were bowed low in penitence, their puja thalis or prayer plates full of offerings to Lord Agni. The normally quiet market street became almost deathly silent as the pitiful women lumbered by. At the centre of the procession, unseen by Shiva, with her head bowed low, draped in a blue angvastram that covered her from head to toe, her face a picture of resigned dignity, trudged the forlorn figure of Sati.
‘So where were we, my Lord?’ said Daksha, as Shiva and Nandi setded down in his private office the next morning.
‘We were about to discuss the changes that Lord Ram brought about, your Highness. And how he defeated the rebellion of the renegade Brahmins,’ answered Shiva.
‘That’s right,’ said Daksha. ‘Lord Ram did defeat the renegade Brahmins. But in his view, the core problem went deeper. It wasn’t just an issue of some Brahmins who did not follow the code. The problem was a conflict between a person’s natural karma and what society forced him to do.’
‘I didn’t understand your Highness.’
‘If you think about it, what was the essential problem with the renegade Brahmins? Some of them wanted to be Kshatriyas and rule. Some of them wanted to be Vaishyas, make money and live a life of luxury. However, their birth confined them to being Brahmins.’
‘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.’
‘Yes,’ added Daksha. ‘Many upper castes did oppose Lord Ram’s reforms. Not just Brahmins, but even Kshatriyas and Vaishyas. Lord Ram fought a great battle to defeat them. Those of the vanquished who survived are the Chandravanshis we see today’
‘So your differences go that far back?’
‘Yes,’ said Daksha. ‘The Chandravanshis are corrupt and disgusting people. No morals. No ethics. They are the source of all our problems. Some of us believe that Lord Ram was too kind. He should have completely destroyed them. But he forgave them and let them live. In fact, we have to face the mortification of seeing the Chandravanshis rule over Lord Ram’s birthplace — Ayodhya!’
Before Shiva could react to this information, the bell of the new prahar was rung. Everyone said a quick prayer to welcome the subsequent time chapter. Shiva immediately looked towards the window. A look of expectancy appeared on his face.
Daksha smiled as he observed Shiva’s expression. ‘We could break for lunch now, my Lord. But if you have another engagement you would like to attend, we could continue tomorrow’
Parvateshwar glared at Daksha disapprovingly. He knew exacdy what the emperor was trying to do.
‘That would be nice, your Highness,’ smiled Shiva. ‘Is my face that transparent?’
‘Yes it is my Lord. But that is a gift you have. Nothing is prized more than honesty in Meluha. Why don’t you leave for your engagement and we could convene here again tomorrow morning?’
Thanking Daksha profusely, Shiva left the room with Nandi in tow.
Shiva approached the hedge with excitement and trepidation. The moment he heard the sound of the dhol coming from the garden, he despatched Nandi to have lunch at the guest house. He wanted to be alone. He let out a deep sigh of ecstasy as he crept behind the hedge to find Sati practising under the watchful eye of the Guruji and Krittika.
‘So good to see you again, Shiva,’ said the Guruji as he stood up with a formal namaste.
‘The pleasure is all mine, Guruji,’ said Shiva, as he bent down to touch the Guruji’s feet as a sign of respect.
Sati watched silendy at a distance with her gaze on the floor. Krittika said enthusiastically, ‘I just couldn’t get your dance out of my mind!’
Shiva blushed at the compliment. ‘Oh it wasn’t that good.’
‘Now you’re fishing for compliments,’ teased Krittika.
‘I was wondering if we could start off where we left last time,’ said Shiva, turning towar
ds Sati. ‘I don’t think I have to be your teacher or anything like that. I just wanted to see you dance.’
Sati felt her strange discomfort returning again. What was it about Shiva that made her feel that she was breaking the law in speaking with him? She was allowed to talk to men as long as she kept a respectable distance. Why should she feel guilty?
‘I will try my best,’ said Sati formally. ‘It would be enriching to hear your views on how I can improve myself. I really do respect you for your dancing skills.’
Respect?! Why respect? Why not love?!
Shiva smiled politely. Something inside told him that saying anything at this point of time would spoil the moment.
Sati took a deep breath, girded her angvastram around her waist and committed herself to the Nataraj pose. Shiva smiled as he felt Mother Earth project her shakti, her energy, into Sati.
Energised by the earth she stood upon, Sati began her dance. And she had really improved. The emotions seemed to course through her. She was always good technically, but the passion elevated her dance to the next level. Shiva felt a dreamy sense of unreality overcome him again. Sati radiated a magnetic hold on him as she moved her lithe body into the dance steps. For some moments, Shiva imagined that he was the man that Sati was longing for in her dance. When she finally came to a stop, the audience spontaneously applauded.
‘That was the best I have ever seen you dance,’ said the Guruji with pride.
‘Thank you Guruji,’ said Sati as she bowed. Then she looked expectandy at Shiva.
‘It was fantastic,’ exclaimed Shiva. ‘Absolutely fabulous. Didn’t I tell you that you had it in you?’
‘I thought that I didn’t get it exactly right at the attacking sequence,’ said Sati critically.
‘You’re being too hard on yourself,’ consoled Shiva. ‘That was just a slight error. It happened only because you missed one angle on your elbow. That made your next move a little odd.’ Rising swiftly to his feet, Shiva continued, ‘See, I’ll show you.’