Immortals of Meluha

forehead in a long tilak. ‘Come back victorious or don’t come back at all.’
Shiva raised one eyebrow and grimaced. ‘What kind of a send off is that?!’
‘What? No, it’s just...’ stammered Sati.
‘I know, I know,’ smiled Shiva as he embraced Sati. ‘It’s the traditional Suryavanshi send off
before a war, right?’
Sati looked up, her eyes moist. Her love for Shiva was overcoming decades of Suryavanshi
training. ‘Just come back safe and sound.’
‘I will, my love,’ whispered Shiva. ‘You won’t get rid of me that easily.’
Sati smiled weakly. ‘I’ll be waiting.’
Sati stood on her toes and kissed Shiva lightly. Shiva kissed her back and turned quickly,
before his heart would overcome his head with second thoughts. Lifting the tent curtain, he
walked out. He looked up at the skies, in case there were some other omens. There were
none.
Bloody good!
The distant droning of Sanskrit shlokas, accompanied by the beating of war drums in a
smooth rhythmic pulse, wafted in over the dry winter breeze. Shiva had thought this particular
Suryavanshi custom odd. But maybe there was something to the Brahmin ‘Call for Indra and
Agni’, as this particular puja was called. The drums and the shlokas somehow grafted together
to rouse a fierce warrior spirit in whoever heard them. The beats would quicken as the battle
began. Shiva was eager to throw himself into the battle. He turned and strode towards
Daksha’s tent.
‘Greetings, your Highness,’ said Shiva as he raised the curtain to enter the royal tent, where
Parvateshwar was explaining the plans to the Emperor. ‘Namaste, Parvateshwar.’
Parvateshwar smiled and folded his hands.
‘What news of Drapaku, Parvateshwar?’ asked Shiva. The last despatch I heard is at least
three hours old.’
‘The vikarma battle is on. Drapaku still leads them. He has bought us invaluable time. May
Lord Ram bless him.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Shiva. ‘May Lord Ram bless him. He just has to hold on to the end of this day.’
‘My Lord,’ said Daksha, hands in a formal namaste, head bowed. ‘It is an auspicious
beginning. We will have a good day. Wouldn’t you agree?’
‘Yes it does seem so,’ smiled Shiva. The news of Drapaku is very welcome. ‘But perhaps
this question may be better suited for the fourth prahar, your Highness.’
‘I am sure the answer would be the same, my Lord. By the fourth prahar today, Emperor
Dilipa will be standing in front of us, in chains, waiting for justice to be done.’
‘Careful, your Highness,’ said Shiva with a smile. ‘Let us not tempt fate. We still have to win
the war!’
‘We will face no problems. We have the Neelkanfh with us. We just need to attack. Victory
is guaranteed.’
‘I think a litde bit more than a blue throat will be required to beat the Chandravanshis, your
Highness,’ said Shiva, his smile even broader. ‘We shouldn’t underestimate our enemy.’
‘I don’t underestimate them, my Lord. But I will not make the mistake of underestimating you
either.’
Shiva gave up. He had learned some time back that it was impossible to win a debate
against Daksha’s unquestioning conviction.