A horrified Veerini stared at her husband. ‘Daksha, what in Lord Ram’s name are you thinking?’

‘I can set everything right by...’

‘Trust me, the best thing to do is to leave all this alone. You should never even have tried to become emperor. You can still be happy if...’

‘Never tried to become emperor? What nonsense! I am the emperor. Not just of Meluha, but of India. You think some barbarian with a blue throat can defeat me? That a chillum-smoking, uncouth ingrate is going to take my family away from me?’

Veerini held her head in despair.

‘I made him,’ said Daksha. ‘And I will finish him.’

‘My Lord,’ exclaimed Parshuram. ‘Look.’

Shiva turned to look towards the dense forests beyond the palm tree clearing.

In the distance, they saw a sudden flight of birds flying off into the sky, obviously disturbed by massive movement. The approaching mass was effortlessly pushing trees aside as it forged through the forest.

‘They’re here,’ said Nandi.

Shiva turned around and spoke loudly. ‘Ganesh, lower the boats.’

Having left a majority of the soldiers onboard, Shiva and his entourage of two hundred were already at the clearing when enormous elephants burst through the jungle. They wore intricately carved, ceremonial forehead gear made of gold. The human handlers of the elephants, or mahouts, sat just behind the beasts’ heads and were secured into their position with ropes. They were covered from head to toe in cane armour, which protected them from the whiplash of the branches that the elephants effortlessly pushed aside. With the aid of gentle prodding with their feet as well as the hand-held hooks called ankush, the mahouts expertly guided the elephants into the clearing. Firmly secured on the backs of the elephants were large, strong wooden howdahs fashioned to extend horizontally from the sides of the animals. Completely covered from all sides, they afforded protection to the people inside. Angled slats allowed access to air and a side door to the howdahs facilitated entry.

Shiva’s eyes were fixed on the first elephant in the line. As it halted, the side door flung open and a rope ladder was flung down. A tall and lanky Pandit clad in a saffron dhoti and angvastram, climbed down. As soon as the Pandit’s feet touched the ground he turned towards Shiva, his hands folded in a respectful Namaste. He had a flowing white beard and a long silvery mane. His wizened face, calm eyes and gentle smile showed a deep understanding of true wisdom. The wisdom of sat-chit-anand, of truth-consciousness-bliss; the unrelenting bliss of having one’s consciousness and mind drowned in truth.

‘Namaste, Panditji,’ said Shiva. ‘It’s an honour to finally meet the Chief Vasudev.’

‘Namaste, great Mahadev,’ said Gopal politely. ‘Believe me, the honour is all mine. I have lived for this moment.’

Shiva stepped forward and embraced Gopal. The surprised Chief Vasudev responded tentatively at first, and then returned the embrace as the open-heartedness of the Neelkanth made him smile.