KRISHNA CORIOLIS#6: Fortress of Dwarka Read online

  Tvasta hesitated then took the proferred hand. He felt a sense of well-being pervade him at once, and all fear and anxiety melted away. Slowly, he rose to his feet, marveling at how wonderful he felt all of a sudden. He looked out and saw that they were already racing away from Mathura City, several hundred yards above ground. Balarama’s chariot raced alongside them, the only other thing in sight that was traveling at such great speed. He could not begin to estimate the velocity at which they were traveling but he knew that no bird that had ever lived could possibly fly at such a pace, nor could any arrow fly this fast.

  Krishna released his hand but touched his shoulder gently. Tvasta nodded gratefully, standing without holding onto anything yet feeling perfectly secure and at ease, just as if he were standing on solid ground and looking at a perfectly ordinary scene. He stood that way and marveled at the landscape flashing past as they flew to their destination.

  12

  The flight was short despite the great distance covered. When their destination came into view, the sculptor released a sound of exclamation. Even Krishna’s charioteer showed his excitement.

  “Is that the ocean, Lord Krishna?” Tvasta asked humbly.

  “Indeed it is, my good shilpi. Have you not seen it before?” Krishna said, standing beside the man at the railing of the chariot.

  Tvasta shook his head. “I have hardly had occasion to leave Mathura, my Lord. My work keeps me busy night and day as you yourself might have seen.”

  The sculptor was responsible for most of the carvings and sculptures in and around the royal complex of Mathura. Those that he had not done himself, his students had executed. For even from a very young age, he had been masterful enough in the execution of his craft that every young man and woman with talent had sought him out and desired to become his pupil. He had rejected their subservience and instead made them his associates, and with their aid, under his able instruction, The had redesigned the palace complex from end to end and overseen its construction, and had done the same for most of the great houses in the city’s richest quarters. Even at this youthful age, he was already a master architect whose knowledge of the Shilpi manuals was matched by none other in Mathura. Yet he preferred to refer to himself as simply Tvasta the sculptor.

  “Tvasta,” Krishna had asked him when he had met him some months earlier and admired his work. “Why do you call yourself merely a sculptor? You have accomplished so much more than sculptures.”

  Tvasta had rubbed his knotted hands and said simply, “My father and guru say that it is better to be a rock and let others call you a mountain than to call oneself a mountain while others say you are just a rock.” He smiled, his guileless face as smooth as a perfectly finished marble sculpture. “And sculpting always remains my first and last love.”

  Krishna had admired the young boy’s humility inspite of his great achievements and fame and had promised him that someday he would engage his services in building a city. He reminded Tvasta of that promise now.

  “Daruka, slow the chariot,” he said first. When the sarathi had done as he bid and Balarama had slowed his vehicle as well, Krishna turned to Tvasta.

  “Tvasta,” he said, “you remember when I told you that someday you would build me a city? That day has come. It is today. This is the site of the city you shall build today.”

  Tvasta looked at Krishna wonderingly then stared at the vista before them. “But, my lord, how can a city be built in a single day? And how can anything be built here? The land close to the ocean is always soft and often has secret channels of water underneath. Building large structures or fortifications could be dangerous. We might find basements and dungeons and other underground passages inundated by the ocean during stormy seasons.”

  They were hovering above the beachside of an unfamiliar coast, far from Mathura or the home of the Yadava nations. The beachfront was sandy with inlets and marshlands interwoven. The ocean that pounded these beaches was fierce and foaming with waves. Even Daruka who was not an architect frowned as he listened to Tvasta and looked down at the proposed site.

  Krishna surprised them both by laughing. “I would not give you such a challenge, good Tvasta. For even the finest sculptor must have good stone to work with. This is not the proposed site of our city fortress.”

  Krishna pointed ahead, gesturing to Daruka to start the chariot again. “The site is out there, in the ocean.”

  Tvasta was dumb struck. He said nothing further for the next several moments. On Krishna’s instructions, Daruka flew the sky chariot a considerable distance out to sea. Tvasta began to hold the rim of the chariot’s well again, unnerved by the sight of so much water on all sides. Finally, when they had reached a point where there was nothing but ocean visible on the horizon in every direction, Krishna bade Daruka stop the chariot.

  “Here,” he said to the wonderstruck sculptor. “This is where we shall build our city fortress.”

  Tvasta looked down nervously from the chariot. He could see nothing but deep ocean. A strange oceanic beast leaped from the water, breaking free of its watery home, leaped in the air, and splashed back inside. He did not know how to react: was the beast threatening them or merely going about its own business. He saw others of similar shapes and appearance also leaping out of the water then diving back in sinuously. They appeared friendly and the manner in which they moved was very beautiful and graceful. He was mesmerized by the unusual sight.

  Krishna’s voice broke him out of his reverie. “Good shilpi, are you ready to begin work?”

  Tvasta looked at Krishna in wonderment. “My Lord, I shall do anything to serve you. But how am I to build a city upon sheer water? This ocean seems without depth or bottom! And it is teeming with strange creatures. Surely no land being can survive here for even a moment. How can we build an entire city?”

  Krishna chuckled. “My dear Tvasta, take my word for it, the denizens of the ocean are far gentler than us land beings. They do not go to war as we do, very few of them would ever seek to harm any of us, and those few that do, do so only in order to eat and survive. As for the depthless bottom you speak of, it is not depthless but it is indeed very deep, no doubt. That is why I have chosen this spot. No enemy can come from below, or from any direction without being seen well in advance. And once we finish building the city fortress, no enemy will be able to challenge it, even with the largest army in existence.”

  Tvasta shook his head in bewilderment. “All that is well and good, my Lord. But how are we to build on water? I cannot even stand there, let alone work! And to build a city such as you speak of, within a single day? I do not doubt your ability to work miracles, Lord, I merely question what part can humble Tvasta play in such a grand scheme?”

  Krishna nodded. “I shall show you. But in order to show you, I must take you with me down into the depths of the ocean.”

  At once Tvasta’s eyes widened and his breathing slowed. “My Lord, I will surely die! I am not divine as you and Lord Balarama most certainly are, I cannot survive beneath this vast expanse of ocean!”

  Krishna smiled. “Surely you know that I would not let any harm come to you, good Tvasta? And I would not ask this of you if there were another way to accomplish this task. But it is vital that you come with me for you are the expert in constructing cities, not I.”

  Tvasta looked around. He saw Daruka looking at him. Daruka smiled and blinked his eyes reassuringly as if to say to Tvasta that Krishna spoke the truth. Tvasta turned back to Krishna. “Lord, you will keep me safe in those watery depths? I shall survive and return home safely to my wife and children and grandchildren?”

  Krishna chuckled. “And their grandchildren as well! Have no fear, good shilpi. I give you my word.”

  At that, Tvasta’s fear melted away and he straightened his back again. “Your word is God’s word, my Lord. If you say jump into the ocean, I shall do so gladly.”

  Beside them, speaking from his own chariot, Balarama said, “Don’t jump though! You don’t know how to swim yet and we a
lready have two perfectly serviceable vehicles to take us down.”

  Tvasta looked around, frowning. Krishna tapped the chariot’s side, his rings knocking and echoing musically against the shaped gold-hued plates with a sound like no metal ever known could make. “Brother Balarama is right, we shall stay within these chariots and they shall keep us all safe and breathing air as normally even within the depths of the ocean. All you need to do is trust in me, Tvasta. Do you trust me?”

  “I do, Lord,” Tvasta said without hesitation. “I trust you with my life.”

  “Very well, then,” Krishna said. “Let us descend. Daruka, we must move slower beneath water as we must not disturb the beings of the ocean or cause harm to any one of them. Take it as slowly as necessary and use your judgement. Remember though that things beneath the ocean can often move as quickly as land beings when you least expect it.”

  Daruka looked a little nervous but nodded gamely. “I shall do my best, my Lord. Pray, correct me if I make a single error.”

  Krishna smiled. “Do not fret. I am with you to guide and show the way.”

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  The chariots plunged into the ocean together, their luster seeming to grow dazzling bright in the instant before they sank. Then they disappeared beneath the waves.

  The dark-finned creatures that had been leaping and playing in the water dived beneath to see where the new visitors had gone. They saw the two chariots sinking rapidly downwards, and tried to follow, but after a few hundred yards they gave up the chase and returned to the surface. Unlike most of their fellows in this watery world, they required air to breathe and could only survive without it for a few minutes.

  They chattered and squeaked excitedly about the astonishing new visitors and hoped they would see them again when they returned.

  If they returned, their elders corrected. Land creatures who ventured so deep never returned. It was possible that these strangers were the exception, but that remained to be proven. Then they went about their watery play again.

  Tvasta and Daruka both looked around with wonderment as the chariots travelled downwards at a sharp inclining angle.

  They reached out and felt only air around them. Looking at Balarama’s chariot beside their own, they saw that each chariot was encased in a large bubble of air, the bubble’s shape warped and distorted by the force of their downward flight.

  At one point, both bubbles touched and were joined together, sharing the same large store of air. They looked up and saw the distant surface of the ocean and the bright sky and sun beyond, barely visible already. They had already sunk several hundred yards deep and at the rate they were proceeding, there was a great distance yet to travel.

  Krishna said, “Are you well, Tvasta?”

  “Aye, my Lord,” said the young sculptor. “I feel as healthy as I did moments ago when we were hovering above the ocean.” He looked around, marveling. “It is a miracle how you accomplish these wonders.”

  Krishna smiled indulgently. “This is nothing, Tvasta. In fact, the real miracle is the trust you place in me and the faith you have in my abilities. It is what makes it possible for Balarama and I to do whatever we do. Am I not right, bhai?”

  “That you are, bhraatr,” Balarama called out, his voice somewhat muffled by the sound of the water buffeting the bubbles. “It is faith that enables you to lift mountains and plumb the depths of the ocean.”

  Krishna smiled again at Tvasta. “You know, Tvasta, your faith in me reminds me of a tale of another faithful follower who also traveled to the same realm where we now descend.”

  Tvasta looked curiously at his master. “Where is this realm we go to, my Lord? What is its name?”

  “Samyamani is a realm like no other. There is nothing to compare it to. It is described in the tale I speak of, although you will perceive it with your own eyes.”

  Tvasta joined his hands before Krishna. “My Lord, it would be my great fortune if you would recount this tale to me.”

  Krishna raised an eyebrow. “You wish me to narrate the tale? Now?”

  Tvasta indicated their descending chariots. “I see we have some distance yet to travel. It would help pass the time and take my mind off the fact that I am descending into the depths of a great watery world!”

  Krishna chuckled. “Why not. It is a good tale and bears narrating. It is one that is known to the great Maharishi Krishna Dweipayana-Vyasa, it is he who has recorded it and perhaps someday he shall include it in his Fifth Veda.”

  Daruka turned to look at Krishna. “A Fifth Veda, my Lord? I thought there were only four and the rest were vedangas.”

  Krishna nodded. “I speak of the one that is not yet written but shall be written not long from now, a mere two generations hence. It is not strictly a Veda like the Rig, Yajur, Atharva and Samar, it is more a katha-vidya and as such it is unparalleled in the annals of human knowledge. Someday it will be known as the greatest story ever told. This is but a tiny morsel from that vast banquet of stories that remains to be told, and written. Listen now, to the tale of the Disciple And The Earrings.”

  “His name was Uttanka,” Krishna went on, beginning his tale…

  ***

  Uttanka was a novice to Guru Veda. One day, Guru Veda had to leave home to officiate at the ceremony for his patron. He left his shishya Uttanka in charge of the ashram and house with the instructions, “Do whatever needs to be done to take care of the household. Ensure that nothing is lacking.”

  With these simple instructions, Veda left.

  As it transpired, his journey took him to a faraway foreign nation and his absence from home was far longer than expected. Uttanka obeyed his guru’s request dutifully.

  Some months later, the women of the household gathered together to speak to him. They told him that Rishi Veda and his wife had been desirous of having offspring for a long time. Now, the preceptor’s wife was in the ideal period for conception, based on her biological factors as well as the astrological signs and other omens. If this time passed, who knew when she might conceive again. As the man of the house, it fell to him to impregnate her and ensure that her period fertility did not go waste.

  Uttanka was troubled by the request of the women. He said to them, ‘I hear your demand but it is not proper that I should do this on your word alone. I take my instructions only from my guru and he has not asked me to do any such thing.’

  They urged him, saying that the preceptor had after all told him to do whatever needed to be done and to ensure that nothing was lacking, therefore he would only be performing his duty to the guru by filling his wife’s barren womb.

  But Uttanka held firm and refused to do as they said.

  In time, the guru returned home from his long journey. He heard all that had transpired in his absence, and was pleased with Uttanka’s decision for he would not have approved of another man inseminating his wife.

  He said to Uttanka, ‘My son, you have fulfilled your dharma admirably while using your own judgement wisely. This is a great service you have done for me and I am deeply grateful to you. In return, name anything you desire and I shall do everything in my power to return the favour. Do you wish to leave my service and pursue your own fortune? If so, then I grant you leave to go and bless you with a certainty of success in any endeavour you choose.’

  Uttanka considered his guru’s words and replied, ‘Gurudev, it is well known that when a shishya completes his education he must give his guru a dakshina, otherwise if one person asks for something without offering anything in return and the other person gives without rightfully receiving anything in exchange, there shall be enmity between those two, and one shall inevitably die. You have already granted me the greatest gift any guru can give his shishya: you have given me leave to go forth into the world, declaring my education complete. In exchange, I wish to give you your guru-dakshina as it is only fair that I repay you for your gift of learning to me.’

  Rishi Veda was impressed by his pupil’s answer and said, ‘In that case, Uttanka, give me so
me time to consider what guru-dakshina to ask.’ Uttanka was sanguine and continued to stay peacefully at his guru’s ashram.