sixteen

Where to now, Rama?’

‘I have been thinking about it. What do you say about going to Tirumala?’

‘To look for the Sri chakra?’ Mohan asked.

‘Yes, before we go after Hastings, again.’

They rode in silence for a while. Suddenly, Mohan exclaimed, ‘Rama, stop. What is that over there?’

Rama turned around in his seat. Behind him in the dark he could make out the vimanam of a temple, lit up by some sort of fire. He alighted from the carriage without saying a word to Mohan and walked towards it. It seemed to be sticking out of the top of a sand mound.

‘What is it?’ Mohan asked.

‘I don’t know yet,’ Rama replied. ‘Looks like a temple. Stay here. I’ll see what it is.’

The mound was rather large, about ten feet tall, and extremely steep. Rama scrambled to the top and looked in. Directly below him, inside the pit, was a roaring fire and in front of it sat a ragged hermit.

Rama had been looking at the man for about half a minute when he spoke, ‘Well, come on down. It’s not very polite to spy on people, you know.’

And then the man looked up. Rama felt like he had met the man somewhere before. There was something disquietingly familiar about him, even though Rama knew he had never met anybody with eyes that shone like gold, like this man.

‘I’m sorry,’ Rama said from the top, smiling. ‘I was surprised to find anyone out here.’

‘Why don’t you come down and join me?’

‘Thank you. I shall be with you in a few minutes.’

Rama slid down the mound and went back to the carriage.

‘There seems to be an ascetic over there. It’s just a big pit. I never got to examine that vimanam,’ he told Mohan, who had been waiting impatiently for his return.

‘What’s he doing there?’

‘Nothing. Keeping warm by a fire,’ Rama replied. ‘Come, let’s sit with him for a while and warm up.’

‘You go on ahead. I’ll just tie the horses up and join you.’

Rama joined the ascetic. They both remained companionably silent while the ascetic primed his chillum.

‘My name is Ramaswami,’ Rama introduced himself. ‘And my friend Mohan will be joining us any moment. Thank you for letting us sit with you.’

‘It’s good to meet you, Ramaswami. My name is Kailasan.’

‘Where are you from?’ Rama asked, looking around. ‘What is this place? It doesn’t look like a pit!’

‘To answer your first question, I come from Badrinath. To answer your second, no, this isn’t a pit. It’s an old temple.’

‘Why is so much of it buried?’ Rama asked.

‘Who knows?’ Kailasan replied, nonchalantly. ‘This region probably underwent a drought of some sort many centuries ago. Everybody must have left in search of food and water. The area would have stayed uninhabited for many years and the temple would have been covered by mountains of shifting sand. Or, there might have been a huge flood many centuries ago and this region might have been uninhabited, and when people came back they found it like this and just continued using it as it is. It’s not lost, just different from how it was originally intended. If you go through that door you’ll see about four different corridors, all leading into a little dome-shaped shrine with the oldest lingam in the world.’

‘Are you the priest?’

‘No. I just stay here. There’s no priest in this temple. People just come and pray in whatever way they feel like.’

‘I see.’ Rama inhaled deeply. Something about the ancient temple appealed to him. Maybe there were strong vibrations, maybe it was something else. Rama, at that moment, wanted to go into the garbagriha of the temple and see the deity within.

‘Would you excuse me while I went in and looked around?’ Rama asked his companion.

‘Go ahead, it’s wonderful. Take a light with you, it’s very dark inside.’

Rama looked about him for a stick. Without a word, Kailasan handed him one with a cloth tied around one end, along with a little can of oil.

‘I see you have one. Thank you,’ Rama said as he took the torch and bucket from him.

Kailasan smiled at him and Rama noticed that, in spite of his ragged appearance, his teeth were in perfect condition. White and even.

Rama dipped the cloth end of the torch into the oil and held it to the flames. He was off as soon as it was lit, and was almost through the doorway when he remembered Mohan, ‘Oh, when my friend comes along could you please tell him he can join me inside, or that I’ll be along in a moment.’

Kailasan smiled, almost fiendishly, as he replied, ‘Oh yes, of course.’

Rama went inside, feeling uneasy. He couldn’t tell where he had met the man before. He certainly hadn’t given any indication that they had ever met, but then, the smile. Rama kept wondering about the smile. What could it have meant? Why did he smile like that?

The path he was treading led to the garbagriha. It was the most fascinating place he had ever seen. The first thing that grabbed his attention was the lingam, in front of which, stood a statue of a hunter with a ram in one hand and a kamandalu in the other. But the lingam was what held Rama’s attention, he had seen nothing like it. It projected straight from the ground and as he looked up at the completely spherical dome he was under, he realized the structure signified creation. The dome was the womb. Rama held his torch closer to the idol; from the clothes he was wearing, there was no doubt it was Shiva. On the ground, beneath his feet, was the head of a rakshasa.

There was something magical about the chamber. Maybe it was the cumulative force of the vibrations of spiritual eons, or maybe it was his imagination, but Rama seemed to hear the gods whispering to each other. He propped his torch in a ring on the wall and then sat down in front of the deity. Pulling his legs into the lotus position, Rama closed his eyes and chanted the Gayatri mantra eleven times. He then opened his eyes, got to his feet, bowed before the image and made his way back to the pit.

Chillum in hand, Mohan sat by the fire with Kailasan, hardly listening to the ascetic’s chatter. As Rama walked towards them, Mohan inhaled another deep lungful of smoke before handing the chillum back to Kailasan.

‘… never too much food brought by any of the devotees. There are very rarely any devotees who haven’t travelled a fair distance just to see the temple. Most of them give me money, but what’s the use of money? I ask them to keep their money. Ah, your friend’s back. So Ramaswami, how do you like my little temple?’

There was an inflexion in his voice when he said this that Rama could not comprehend. It might have been irony, but that didn’t seem likely.

‘It is stunning,’ Rama replied, as he sat down. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘I don’t know. It seems like forever,’ Kailasan replied. ‘Would you like a smoke?’ he asked, holding out his chillum.

Without a word, Rama took the chillum from him and took a deep drag from it, before he burst out coughing.

‘Haven’t smoked much, have you?’

‘It has been some time. Last time was in my village.’

‘And which village would that be?’ Kailasan asked, cocking his head interestedly.

‘Damar, near Kanchipuram,’ Mohan broke in. ‘Have you ever been to Kanchipuram?’

‘Plenty of times,’ Kailasan replied.

Rama took another drag on the chillum, but this time he didn’t cough. He handed it back to Kailasan.

‘Why didn’t you come inside the temple?’ he asked Mohan.

‘I didn’t feel like it, Rama,’ Mohan replied in a subdued voice. Rama looked at him, but Mohan refused to meet his gaze, content with staring into the fire. Rama turned away and found the ascetic looking at him with an amused smile.

Kailasan nudged Mohan and, passing him the chillum, said, ‘Here, this heals almost all pain.’

There seemed to have settled upon the group an uncomfortable cloud which Kailasan attempted to alleviate. When he found that neither of his listeners was interested in his talk, he fell silent.

Rama asked Mohan, ‘Do you mind spending the night here? I am very tired.’

Mohan shrugged in response.

‘Would you mind, Ayya?’ Rama glanced at Kailasan

‘Not at all. I’d be glad for the company. Shall we smoke another chillum?’

‘Let’s,’ Rama replied with a grin. ‘How long do you plan to stay here?’

‘I don’t know,’ Kailasan replied. ‘As long as the fancy takes me, I suppose.’

‘Seems like you would survive better somewhere else,’ Rama said, ‘You said there weren’t too many devotees with food. Don’t you get hungry?’

‘Ah, but my needs are limited. Just that,’ indicating the chillum. ‘And maybe an occasional meal.’

Mohan stretched out. ‘I think I’ll go to sleep,’ he said to no one in particular. ‘Goodnight.’

‘Here, I’ll give you something to cover yourselves with,’ Kailasan said, as he reached into a sack that was by his side. ‘Go on. It’s quite clean,’ he continued, handing a blanket to Mohan. ‘Here, take one too,’ he said to Rama, as he handed him another.

‘Thank you,’ Mohan replied, unsmilingly.

Rama and Kailasan talked for a long time after Mohan fell asleep. Finally, they too bid each other goodnight.

Something awoke Rama. He was instantly alert, eyes darting around and ears straining to hear any movement around him. When he was sure there was no immediate danger, he raised his head slowly and looked at the two forms snoring gently by the still roaring fire. And then he heard it again.

Someone was talking. Rama got up and followed the voice outside the temple premises. He walked down the slope and hid behind the trees by the side of the mud road. There weren’t too many trees, and the voices seemed quite near. Suddenly, Rama saw a familiar form in front of him, sitting on a rock by a tree and smoking from a chillum. It was Kailasan.

‘How …’ Rama began.

‘It doesn’t matter how I got here, Rama,’ Kailasan interrupted. ‘So, do you feel better now?’

‘What do you mean?’ Rama asked blankly.

‘Do you feel better now that Haider Ali is dead?’

Rama caught his breath. How did he know? He looked at Kailasan, scared. He didn’t know what to say.

‘Don’t worry Rama, I am a friend, an old friend,’ Kailasan said, patting him reassuringly on the back. ‘So tell me, do you feel any better?’

Rama thought about it for a moment before he replied, ‘No, not yet, but then, I’m not done.’

‘Do you really believe that killing Hastings will make you feel better?’ he asked, looking at him with that same ironic look in his eyes.

Rama tried to suppress his fear; how in Shiva’s name did Kailasan know all this? He cleared his throat and said, ‘I won’t know until I have finished. I set out to do something, and I’m not yet done.’

‘Rama, this endless violence will only hurt you, and who knows what sort of effect it will have on your family. Let it end now. Killing Haider Ali may not have been so bad, but going after Hastings will probably destroy you and Mohan.’

‘How do you know so much, Ayya?’ Rama asked. ‘Who are you really?’

‘Did I mention that I knew your father?’ Kailasan replied. ‘I met him when he was on his way to Tirumala to hide the Sri chakra.’

That was the last thing Rama had expected him to say. As he opened his mouth to speak, Kailasan went on, ‘Rama, you’re an intelligent man and you are obviously going to make your own choices. You may not succeed with Hastings. True, you killed Haider Ali, but I don’t think Hastings will be as easy. He trusted very few of his own people, only the Morris brothers. Now that everyone is dead, he’s not going to take any risks. He has enough problems of his own anyway.’

‘Who are you and how do you know so much? You say you knew my father. Did you know that Hastings had Haider Ali kill my parents?’

Kailasan was unperturbed by this outburst. His chillum had gone out, and he now emptied it by tapping it against the rock he sat on. He looked up at Rama and replied, ‘Yes, Rama. I knew it. I am sorry about it, but killing Hastings is not going to accomplish anything. Since you are determined to follow your chosen path, remember that you are responsible now for more lives than just yours. Now if you will excuse me, I need a flame. Let us go back.’

‘All right,’ said Rama. He was glad to get back to the light of the fire.

They were walking back towards the temple when Kailasan put his hand on Rama’s shoulder and said, ‘You are going to Tirumala first, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, I am,’ Rama replied. ‘Is the Sri chakra still there?’

‘That is for you to find out. I do know that your father went there to hide it.’

They walked on in silence till they reached the temple wall. Kailasan suggested Rama climb ahead of him, so he scrambled up the slope and down the other side, waiting for the other man to appear. As he waited, his mind raced furiously: how did Kailasan know so much? He still hadn’t answered any of Rama’s questions. Should he be more aggressive in his questioning? For some reason, Rama felt great respect and trust for the ascetic, but was wary of his omniscience. Several minutes passed, but the ascetic never appeared on top of the mound. Desperately, Rama scrambled up the slope, and from the very top, looked around everywhere.

There was no sign of Kailasan.