seven

‘Come on, Ayya, we need to find some shelter for the night.’

It was a dark evening. Appayya Dikshitar and Dhanapal had reached a river near an old temple. Dhanapal was quite sure that Haider Ali would realize what had happened and send people to track them down. Careful as they had been, he was certain there were soldiers no more than a few hours behind them.

The temple usually served food to travellers, and Dikshitar and Dhanapal held plantain-leaf bowls in their hands filled with curd rice. As the wayfarers conversed, it was clear that the temple of Tirumala, while being a huge temple, had also become very public. A few travellers who were returning from Tirumala were narrating how much good work the temple was doing for the people. One of the pilgrims was narrating the story about how Venkateshwara, the lord of that temple, had taken a massive loan from Kubera to pay for his marriage to Padmavati, and how he was now destined to spend eternity in the hills of Tirumala, earning money to pay off his loan by doing charitable work for all the people all around, while his love awaited him at the foot of the hills.

After a while, Dikshitar beckoned to Dhanapal. ‘I don’t think Tirumala is the right place!’ he said. ‘The only reason we decided on Tirumala was because we know the priest but too many people visit the temple nowadays. We should hide it somewhere else.’

‘But where, Ayya? Another temple?’

‘Who said it has to be a temple? It can be anywhere.’

‘You think of a place, Ayya, I’ll think too,’ Dhanapal replied. ‘We’ll talk about it in the morning.’

When they returned to the group of travellers, they found that the topic of the conversation had changed.

‘There are many lost temples in the area,’ a bearded sanyasi was saying to the group at large. ‘I have heard tales about a lingam found thousands of years ago, not more than half a day’s walk from here. Most of the temple has been destroyed, but some of the walls still stand.’

As he said this, he took a large chillum out of his bag and proceeded to fill it. He lit the chillum and took a deep drag before offering it around.

‘Anyway, this Shiva temple,’ he continued, clouds of smoke billowing from his nostrils, ‘is supposed to have been the first temple ever built.’

‘Where is it?’ one of the travellers asked.

‘It is about two yojanas along that line,’ he said, pointing in a north-westerly direction. ‘On the riverbank.’

Dikshitar turned to Dhanapal. An imperceptible signal passed between the two.

‘Wake up, Dhanapal. We must be on our way,’ Dikshitar woke him in an urgent voice.

‘Is it morning already, Ayya?’ Dhanapal asked, rubbing his eyes groggily.

‘No, you’ve only been asleep two hours or so. I’m sorry to wake you up, but we should leave right away. I don’t want to risk anyone catching up with us.’

‘But they won’t travel at night,’ Dhanapal replied.

‘That may or may not be. Either way, we should carry on. I want to reach the temple before sunrise.’

‘Ayya, I wanted to talk to you about this. The sanyasi said there is nothing left now except a few walls.’

‘We must see this place, Dhanapal. Get ready, we’ll leave soon.’

‘All right, Ayya,’ Dhanapal replied. He was not sure changing the plan was the best idea, but Periamma had told him to obey Chinnayya. Finding himself a neem stick to clean his teeth with, Dhanapal went near the river and started to wash himself while Dikshitar put away their things.

A few minutes later, as Dikshitar was walking towards the river to join Dhanapal, he heard a voice in the dark say, ‘And where are you going at this hour?’

He turned to check on the sleeping forms of the travellers and make sure no one had woken up. Satisfied that no one had stirred, Appayya turned in the direction the voice had come from and asked, ‘Who is there?’

‘Come forward and see me,’ was the reply.

Taking a few steps forward, Dikshitar saw the sanyasi who had spoken about the lost Shiva temple. The man sat in the lotus position, holding the chillum in one of his hands. He could not have been more than thirty years old, but his manner of speaking made him seem much older. His beard and hair were knotted and his clothes were an old and worn-out shade of saffron. But his eyes were what caught Dikshitar’s attention—they glowed like gems with a fire from within.

‘Join me,’ he told Dikshitar.

‘I wasn’t able to sleep.’

‘This will change all that, if you want it to,’ the sanyasi said, offering the chillum.

Dikshitar sat next to the man, facing the river to see if Dhanapal approached. He didn’t want the man to know they were planning to leave or think there was something suspicious going on.

‘Anyway, I thought you were leaving. Isn’t that what you told your companion?’

Dikshitar looked at the sanyasi silently. The man seemed to have heard all that he had said to Dhanapal, but something inside Appaya told him that he had nothing to fear from the stranger. The sanyasi handed him the chillum and said, ‘My name is Kailas. What is yours?’

‘Bala,’ Dikshitar lied. ‘I come from Vellore.’

Kailas looked at him with a slight smile, as if he knew it was a lie.

Dikshitar inhaled deeply on the chillum, and handed it back to Kailas, saying, ‘I was fascinated by that story you were narrating about the old temple, but I couldn’t remember the name of the place.’

Kailas smiled mysteriously. ‘It stands on the opposite bank of the Swarnamukhi river, across from the village of Gudimallam,’ he said. ‘It’s completely deserted now; you should have no trouble there.’

‘Why would I have trouble?’ asked Dikshitar. ‘I am just a curious traveller.’

‘You’re carrying something very valuable in that bag, Appayya Dikshithar. Just remember, Shiva travels with you.’

Startled, Appayya Dikshithar looked at the sanyasi, who was busy stoking the chillum. ‘How do you know my name? Who are you?’

‘It doesn’t matter who I am. What matters is why. I am here to help you. Although all that can be seen of the temple are walls, most of the structure still stands below the ground. You can’t reach the inner sanctum except by a cave along the eastern wall of the temple—that’s still above the surface. If you walk along that line until you reach the river’s bank, and get into the water, about two gajams under the surface, you will come to a tunnel. If you swim through this tunnel, you will come out of a pond inside an underground chamber, the far northern wall of which will lead you directly under the inner sanctum. You will find many secret passages there, so remember to mark your movements. Now leave, I don’t want Dhanapal to see me.’

Dikshitar’s eyes widened as he heard Kailas. He stood up, clutching his bag, and turned towards the river. He took a few steps then stopped and looked back, ‘Who are you? How do you know so much?’

‘I told you before; who I am does not matter. I am here to help you. Remember my instructions. Now go, Dhanapal approaches.’

Dikshitar whipped his head around and saw Dhanapal walking towards him. When he turned back Kailas had disappeared.

‘Shall we go, Ayya?’ Dhanapal whispered urgently.

Dikshitar looked at Dhanapal in silence for a couple of minutes, and said, ‘Yes of course. We don’t have a minute to lose.’