Immortals of Meluha

A few aspects of the story he was reading, ‘The Righteous War against the Asuras’,
troubled him. The Asuras were demons and were expected to behave like demons, having a
pathological hatred for the Devas. They routinely attacked Deva cities, trying to force them to
accept the Asura way of life. This was not a surprise to Shiva. What was unexpected though
was the way some of the Devas behaved, going to unusually unethical limits in their blind pursuit
of victory. Lord Rudra, though personally a great man, seemed to ignore the indiscretions of the
Devas in the interest of the larger good.
Shiva heard a commotion outside the Guest House. He looked out of his first floor balcony
to notice that the royal caravan had just arrived. The Arishtanemi soldiers had formed a neat
salutary row at the entrance. Some people appeared to be disembarking from the far side of
the second carriage. Shiva assumed it must be the royal family. The surprise was that the
Arishtanemi seemed to be going through just the normal motions in receiving the royal family.
There wasn’t the usual servitude that would be expected in front of royalty. Shiva suspected
that this could be due to the usual Meluhan obsession with perceived equality.
However, Shiva’s equality theory was challenged when he looked at the fifth carriage from
which Parvateshwar alit. Here, the Arishtanemi seemed to be in a tizzy. The senior captain
rushed in front of Parvateshwar and executed a Meluhan military salute — a quick click of the
heels, the body rigid in attention and the right hand, balled in a fist, brought rapidly and violently
to his left chest. After this salute, the captain bent low in respect to the chief of the army. The
soldiers at the back repeated their captain’s greeting. Parvateshwar formally saluted in return,
accompanied with a slight bow of his head.
He started towards his soldiers, inspecting them, while the captain politely fell two steps
behind.
Shiva had a feeling that the admiration reserved for Parvateshwar was not because of the
post he held. It was for the man himself. For all his surliness, Parvateshwar had a reputation of
a brave warrior, a soldier ’s general respected as a man whose word was true. Shiva could see
the strength of that repute in the eyes of each Arishtanemi who bent low on receiving the
attention of his general.
A little while later, Shiva heard a soft knock on his door. He did not need to open it to know
who was on the other side. Sighing sofdy, he opened the door.
Daksha’s fixed smile disappeared and he started a litde as the unfamiliar odour of the
marijuana assaulted his senses. Kanakhala, standing to the Emperor ’s right, appeared equally
perplexed.
‘What is that stench?’ Daksha asked Brahaspati, who stood to the left. ‘Perhaps you should
change the Lord’s room. How can you subject him to this discomfort?’
‘I have a feeling that Shiva is comfortable with this aroma, your Highness,’ said Brahaspati.
‘It is a smell that travels with me, your Highness,’ said Shiva. ‘I like it.’
Daksha was baffled. His face did nothing to hide his revulsion. But he quickly recovered his
composure. After all, the Lord was happy with the malodour. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, my Lord,’
said Daksha, his smile back in place. ‘I had just thought I would inform you that my family and I
have reached the guest house.’
‘It’s very kind of you to inform me, your Highness,’ said Shiva with a formal namaste.
‘My family and I were hoping to have the honour of eating breakfast with you tomorrow
morning, my Lord.’
‘The honour would be mine, your Highness.’