Ayurvati shook her head in irritation, but her voice was unfailingly polite. ‘Parvateshwar, you are making a mistake. You are pitting yourself against your living God. You are defending the Somras, which even you believe has turned evil. And you are doing all this to serve some “purpose”. Does the purpose of defending Meluha justify all the mistakes that you know you are making?’

Parvateshwar spoke softly, ‘Shreyaan sva dharmo vigunaha para dharmaat svanushthitat.’

Ayurvati smiled ruefully as she recalled the old Sanskrit shloka, a couplet attributed to Lord Hari, after whom the city of Hariyupa had been named. It meant that it was better to commit mistakes on the path that one’s soul is meant to walk on, than to live a perfect life on a path that is not meant for one’s soul. Discharge one’s own swadharma, personal law, even if tinged with faults, rather than attempt to live a life meant for another.

Ayurvati shook her head. ‘How can you be sure that this is your duty? Should you just be true to the role the world has foisted upon you? Aren’t you blindly obeying what society is forcing you to do?’

‘Lord Hari also said that those who allow others to dictate their own duties are not living their own life. They are, in fact, living someone else’s life.’

‘But that is exactly what you are doing. You are allowing others to dictate your duties. You are allowing Meluha to dictate the purpose of your soul.’

‘No, I am not.’

‘Yes, you are. Your heart is with Lord Shiva. Can you deny that?’

‘No, I can’t. My heart is with the Neelkanth.’

‘Then how do you know that protecting Meluha is your duty?’

‘Because I know,’ said Parvateshwar firmly. ‘I just know that this is my duty. Isn’t that what Lord Hari had said? Nobody in the world, not even God, can tell us what our duty is. Only our soul can. All we have to do is surrender to the language of silence and listen to the whisper of our soul. My soul’s whisper is very clear. Meluha is my faith; protecting my motherland is my duty.’

Ayurvati ran her hand over her bald pate, touching her choti, the knot of hair signifying Brahmin antecedents. She turned to look at Anandmayi and Bhagirath in the distance. She knew that there was nothing more to be said.

‘You will be on the losing side, Parvateshwar,’ said Ayurvati.

‘I know.’

‘And you will be killed.’

‘I know. But if that is my purpose, then so be it.’

Ayurvati shook her head and touched Parvateshwar’s shoulder compassionately.

Parvateshwar smiled wanly. ‘It will be a glorious death. I shall die at the hands of the Neelkanth.’

Chapter 10: His Name Alone Strikes Fear

Chapter 10

His Name Alone Strikes Fear