genuinely think the law itself is unfair? Or is it because you are attracted to Sati and you want
to remove an inconvenient law which stands in your path.’
‘I genuinely think the vikarma law is unfair. I felt that from the moment I found out about it.
Even before I knew Sati was a vikarma.’
‘But Sati doesn’t think the law is unfair.’
‘But she is a good woman. She doesn’t deserve to be treated this way.’
‘She is not just a good woman. She is one of the finest I have ever met. She is beautiful,
honest, straight-forward, brave and intelligent — everything a man could want in a woman. But
you are not just any man. You are the Neelkanth.’
Shiva turned around and rested his hands on the craft’s railing. He looked into the distance
at the dense forest along the riverbanks as their boat glided across the water. The soothing
evening breeze fanned Shiva’s long locks.
‘I’ve told you before, my friend,’ said Brahaspati. ‘Because of that unfortunate blue throat,
every decision you take has many ramifications. You have to think many times before you act.’
It was late in the night. The royal convoy had just set sail from the city of Sutgengarh on the
Indus. The emotions at Sutgengarh had erupted in the now predictable routine of exuberance at
the sight of the Neelkanth. The saviour of their civilisation had finally arrived.
Their saviour, however, was in his own private hell. Sati had maintained her distance from
Shiva for the last few weeks. He was torn, experiencing pain and dismay at depths he didn’t
think fathomable.
The convoy’s next stop was the famous city of Mohan Jo Daro or the Platform of Mohan.
The city, on the mighty Indus, was dedicated to a great philosopher-priest called Lord Mohan,
who lived in this region many thousands of years ago. Once he had met with the people of
Mohan Jo Daro, Shiva expressed a desire to visit the temple of Lord Mohan. This temple stood
outside the main city platform, further down the Indus. The governor of Mohan Jo Daro had
offered to take the Lord Neelkanth there in a grand procession. Shiva however insisted on
going alone. He felt drawn to the temple. He felt that it would have some solutions for his
troubled heart.
The temple itself was simple. Much like Lord Mohan himself. A small non—descript structure
announced itself as the birthplace of the sage. The only sign of the temple’s significance was
the massive gates in the four cardinal directions of the compound. As instructed by Shiva, Nandi
and Veerbhadra, along with their platoon, waited outside.
Shiva, with his comforting cravat back around his neck, walked up the steps feeling tranquil
after a long time. He rang the bell at the entrance and sat down against a pillar with his eyes
shut in quiet contemplation. Suddenly, an oddly familiar voice asked: ‘How are you, my friend?’