Upaya laughed loudly before responding: “Revered father, it never ceases to
amaze me how adept you’ve become at probing the ethereal Nous of our present.”
“If only your heart were as easy to prod my dear boy. Given the gravity of these unfolding events I am almost afraid of learning how you plan to react to Soma’s entreaty.
The present may be easy to read but the future is beyond the grasp of my cognitive faculties. Yet withal, one crucial detail is sufficiently salient to deduce its trajectory and that happens to be your involvement amid this schism. In some mysterious way it appears as if your participation is preordained.”
“Frankly I cannot disavow my interest concerning these radical affairs,”
confessed the prince. “Normally, confronting the Devatas head-on would seem to me a brash notion. Though in light of what we’re seeing it no longer strikes me as unfeasible.
You yourself were always pointing out to me how our age-old antagonists have sowed dissension among us in order to diminish whatever threat we might pose. For that reason I believe it’s fitting for us to exploit a comparable advantage now that the tables turn.”
The Brahmin crossed one pair of arms over his chest and laid the palms of the
other pair on his thighs. “Listen carefully my son,” he admonished, “there might be nothing I can say or do to deter you from this path but that is precisely why you must be extra cautious when dealing with the Devatas. Especially this smooth-talking lunatic Soma Chandra. Not since we churned the ocean of milk together has there been an alliance between Ashuras and Devatas and the reason is because they will stop at nothing
- 25 -
to accomplish their petty self-centered goals. We paid an expensive price to learn this firsthand. Any extension of friendship from them is naught but veiled opportunism.”
“Of that much I am aware,” Upaya rejoined. “Which is why I solicit your sagely advice. How would you suggest I proceed now that I’ve resolved to reunite the three tribes and mobilize them in favor of Soma?”
“As you’ve grown we’ve often discussed the downfall of our most exalted kings,”
Shukra reminded him. “Of them, Mahabali is probably the best example. Do you recall that historical episode?”
“Indubitably,” his son affirmed. “After spending the golden age of Satya Yuga at war with the Devatas, Mahabali managed to wrest sovereign control from Indra for the first part of the Treta Yuga. During this silver era the Daitya emperor’s influence extended to include Bhuloka. His reign was prosperous and he was recognized as a benevolent ruler by most sentient beings. Of course then the Devatas became intoxicated with envy and petitioned Vishnu to intercede.”
“Exactly. That was when Guru Brihaspati interrupted us in the midst of a
sacrificial ceremony. He came accompanied by the pigmy Brahmin Vamana who was actually Lord Vishnu exercising his unmatched powers of illusion as usual.
The presumptuous dwarf demanded that the Devatas be given a fair share of Mahabali’s realm. Vamana proposed for the king to grant them at least as much ground as he himself could cover within three strides.”
“And duped by his apparent stature Mahabali chose to neglect your exhortations
by acquiescing with an act charity, which ended up costing him more than his crown,”
Upaya finished for his father.
“Yes. Vamana expanded far past the heavenly vault and traversed both the
physical and astral planes within two immeasurable steps,” the elder guru went on.
“Since he could find no place to take a third one, Mahabali had to kneel down and offer his own head as a footrest. Vishnu trampled him into the very depths of the underworld!
The sum-total of that Daitya’s dynasty was thus deposed. He was imprisoned in Patala along with his children and grandchildren where they remain to this day. Lord Vishnu then reinstated Indra as governor of the heavens.”
“Right but what is the point that you are trying to illustrate?”
“Well it is primarily that Vishnu and Brahma have always been staunch
supporters of our enemies. This particular chronicle also demonstrates that contrary to popular opinion we Ashuras are wholly capable of exhibiting righteousness. By stark contrast the covetous and deceitful Devatas have somehow managed to curry favor in
- 26 -
Sivaloka. As a result I cannot overly stress the importance of paying homage to Shiva Mahadeva, who is our only steadfast benefactor.”
“But father, every renown Ashura potentate has been defeated whether he
worshipped Shiva or not,” objected the prince. “In fact the additional clout he provided them with is what typically led to their ruin.”
“You are correct,” Shukra consented. “However that is not a reflection of Lord Shiva’s munificence. Rather it denotes our own greatest failing: an inability to relinquish egotistic attachments. Those demon leaders who practiced asceticism customarily did so to aggrandize their personal authority. None of them was ever able to dissociate from tainted deeds and consequently reaped the negative fruits of Karma Yoga. That is where you must strive not to repeat their mistakes.”
“In other words the boons conferred upon them by Mahadeva backfired because
of their inherent megalomania?” Posited Upaya.
“At last you start to wrap your head around it,” his father declared, beaming.
“Therefore clever boy do your utmost to honor our patron in Sivaloka via virtuous comportment. I guarantee that it’ll pay off in the long run.”
“Wisest sire, your guidance does not fall on deaf ears. From this day forth I shall endeavor to curb my inner ambitions and will dedicate a bountiful sacrifice to Shiva prior to any armed engagement. At present though, my presence is required in the Vale of Berunni without further delay. The three tribes convene there tonight and I intend to solidify our pact with the Danavas and Rakshas. Once that’s in hand I’ll send
Vidyunmalin to escort you to us so that you can preside over our rituals.”
“Your older brother Vidyunmalin is not the brightest lad but he is strong and has a decent soul. You should take care of each other throughout these coming trials.”
“We will father,” Upaya pledged as he put his helm back on.
“Above all be wary of Guru Brihaspati and those nearest to him.
Never underestimate the lengths they’ll go to cheat you out of what is rightfully yours.”
The prince nodded solemnly and bowed. He then strapped Garuda’s Feather onto
his upper-body armor before setting off with an air of determination. Shukra sighed briefly but was soon reabsorbed in a profound state of samadhi trance. There was still so much that remained unclear.
- 27 -
[ 3 ] Heaven’s Orphans
Priya was the wife of Viswava, commander of the Ghandharvas. Her own mother was none other than Varuni, the wine goddess that had surfaced when the primordial ocean was churned. Strangely though, Varuni had abdicated her queenship of the Apsaras early on to elope with an Ashura. She hadn’t been heard of since apart from the occasion on which she’d entrusted Priya to her handmaidens to be raised in the Apsara’s temple.
In spite of those unfavorable circumstances Priya had been treated with respect as she grew up and was formally trained alongside the other heavenly dancers. In time she blossomed into such a distinguished performer that her royal lineage had been
acknowledged and ratified by everyone who attended King Indra’s court. These days she spent less of her time entertaining and more of it coaching new recruits.
At the moment she directed herself to the massive paradise tree lying just beyond the limits of Amaravati, the immortal city. Mount Meru loomed in the distance behind her with the spires of Lord Indra’s stronghold jutting into an increasingly cloudy sky.
Priya was trudging uphill to meet with the goddess Kali who’d long ago established an exchange program between her aggressive Yoginis and the gentle Apsaras. As she neared the top of that incline the transdimensional tree (which is said to occupy all three planes) became visible.
Beneath the wide awning of its innumerable boughs, among the gnarled roots and
with her back resting against its thick trunk sat Kali – Parvati’s fell alter ego. She was blacker than soot, having eight arms and a necklace of shrunken skulls that hung above her bare breasts. Her only garment was a girdle of men’s severed limbs around the waist.
A dozen muscular females holding lances or axes and not wearing much either guarded her perimeter. One of them handed the goddess a hollowed-out gourd filled with blood, which she drained in a single quaff. Another two stepped aside permitting Priya to breach their circle. The young queen cleared her throat gingerly, drawing distracted Kali’s attention.
“Precious Priya, how nice of you to join us!”
“All adoration unto mother Kali, Shakti to Shiva,” the Apsara queen said as she began genuflecting.
“Now, now – no need for that,” Devi dismissed, waving four right hands. “I trust things are going well back at your temple?”
“They are indeed milady. Am I to understand that you have a new ward for us to instruct?”
- 28 -
“Oh yes as a matter of fact we do,” Kali asserted with transparent enthusiasm, “but this one is considerably different from the rest.”
“Really? How so?” Queen Priya queried.
“She is the sole survivor of the extinct human race,” revealed the dark goddess, allowing her words to sink in. “I handpicked her myself from the shambles of Bhuloka when she was only a child. My loyal Yoginis have taught her everything they possibly could since then. All that remains is for the Apsaras to round her skills out completely.”
“A human woman in Antarloka? How has she been able to survive in our ethereal
Nous?”
“Believe it or not they can be a very adaptive species when necessity dictates.
Moreover this girl is second to none in my entourage when it comes to combat. I do hope you’re up for the rigorous task of schooling her in your fine arts.”
“We will rise to the challenge,” the queen vowed. “Bring her forth at your leisure inexorable one.”
Kali beckoned to her closest subordinate: “Yaksha – where is Ishtar?”
“Highness she is doing drills by the waterfall,” the Yogini answered, falling to one knee.
“Please go now and get her.”
Yaksha bowed her head prior to standing and darting through the air toward an
adjacent ridge . . .
~ ≈ ~
Although she was around eighteen years old by Terran counts, Ishtar vividly remembered her last days on Earth. Back then she’d been only five and everything had happened so suddenly. She recalled frenzied talk of polar icecaps melting from her parents; residents of Mumbai on India’s West coast. She couldn’t grasp it too well at that age until the fateful morning when she saw a stupendous tidal wave roiling onto the streets. She had stood there breathlessly immobile and would have perished were it not for Yaksha (Kali’s emissary) swooping down to her rescue.
Afterward her existence was drastically altered by forces she could hardly reckon.
She’d been adopted by Kali, Goddess of Destruction no less, to be tutored by Yoginis in an array of lethal disciplines. To what end was unclear but Ishtar had developed a total rapport with her surrogate family. Especially with Yaksha who was like a big sister.
- 29 -
Zealous servants of the dark one, these Yoginis had matched weapons with every kind of foe at one time or another. Even with the Ashuras whose recent stirrings they were entirely aware of. Ishtar had accompanied her sisters in Patala at age sixteen – against Upaya Panther-Mask – the only opponent to ever best Yaksha in a duel.
Currently Ishtar’s toes hovered over a fast-flowing rivulet merely ten feet from where the waterfall cascaded onto mountainous rock. She stood poised, right leg straight and left one bent at its knee. Angled behind her head she hoisted a curved slender sword high up in the air with both hands. The girl inhaled audibly, filling her lungs to capacity prior to blaring Kali’s mantra: “Om Kring Kaliyai Namah!”
Down swished the blade, sending waves rushing back toward slope and slicing a
cleft into the cataract. A fine mist of droplets sparkled around her as the torrent resumed momentarily. The human Yogini calmly held the weapon’s blunt end against her
forehead as if recollecting her senses through it. At which point she was broken from her reverie by a familiar voice:
“You’re far better than I ever was,” Yaksha acclaimed, “and you probably surpass my present-day prowess too.”
“I owe it all to mother Kali and you dearest sister,” replied Ishtar as she turned to face her visitor, a woman with matching scratch scars on either shoulder blade.
“Sadly though the time has arrived for you to part from us. At our mother’s
behest, Priya, Queen of Apsaras has come to conscript you. They wait for you now at the foot of the tree.”
“Then we shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer,” reasoned Ishtar.
Affectionately they hooked inner elbows and glided back to the main group. Thereupon Ishtar and Priya were introduced to each other and matron Kali took that opportunity to honor her human daughter with a gift. In two black hands she held out her heavy war sickle, which the girl accepted as she prostrated herself.
“All of my confidantes should know that mine and Shiva’s will are one and the
same,” the goddess expounded addressing those present. “In earnest Antarloka has entered a phase of decline and shall henceforth deteriorate further. Ergo, we have decreed it necessary for the Devatas to burn off the negative Karma that they have accrued throughout their tenure in this realm. My Yoginis are hereby charged to assist that process through indirect involvement at these early stages and more intimate participation later on.”
“Om Kring Kaliyai Namah!” Everyone (including Priya) assented out loud.
- 30 -
Yaksha stepped to Ishtar and presented a conch shell. The latter fastened the war sickle diagonally across her back and stowed said conch inside a plain travel bag.
“When the time comes blow on it and we will hasten to your side,” explained
Yaksha.
Ishtar nodded in agreement and embraced her big sister as they both struggled to restrain tears. For soon she was on the road to Amaravati, in no mood of conversing with her new matriarch.
~ ≈ ~
Seated atop a peacock, Karttikeya, son of Agni strutted into a glade. At the far end of that clearing some hubbub preceded the abrupt exodus of many deer from the woods.
They sprinted in his direction and shortly he found himself encircled by them.
He couldn’t help wondering why they were unafraid of him even though he bore a spear.
They simply eyed him as if to display a hint of recognition within their glazed stares.
This herd shifted uneasily as its pursuer caught up. Surya the sun god came mounted on his shining steed followed by some attendants.
“What is the meaning of all this commotion?” Karttikeya demanded.
Surya wheeled on his hors ,
e brandishing a fiery bow while he spoke:
“Karttikeya you know these stags are fair game. Ever since Bhuloka crumbled
human souls transmigrated here and took form as these creatures. There is an
overabundance of them. They should be hunted down in droves to atone for their sins.
Your father Agni has been a teacher to us both and he would advocate my course.”
“This is my forest and I say what is and isn’t fair game,” the younger but not less physically imposing Devata pronounced, spinning his lance with utter confidence.
Karttikeya had once delivered Antarloka from the demon King Taraka, who’d terrorized the Devatas for centuries. He wasn’t to be taken lightly in a fight and wasn’t one to back down in disputes. “I hereby forbid hunting on these premises.”
“Bloody spoil sport,” complained the sun god. “I do hope you’re more
forthcoming on the dilemma caused by Soma Chandra. He has rebuked Brahma’s
counsel and is forcing Indra’s hand. I’m afraid my cousin’s aspirations have outgrown his means. He leaves us no choice but to humiliate him.”
“Or you could simply let it be.”
“For shame you should mention it! Brihaspati is preceptor of the gods and cannot tolerate such a slight. This anarchic move has serious political implications.”
- 31 -
“Social protocol notwithstanding, it’s a ridiculous reason to go to war.”
“As good a reason as any,” Surya mumbled. He gestured for his escorts to retract with a snap of his head and sped off without further utterance.
Inhaling a calming breath Karttikeya looked around at the sizable herd still
milling about. It was then that the largest antlered buck came forward and fixed his sights on the perplexed Devata. The god peered into the bull’s iridescent eyes and chuckled when he realized what he was seeing there. For Karttikeya could perceive that in its previous lifetime this magnificent buck had been one of his Sri Lankan devotees.
Merciful lord please follow me he heard the deer say. Fascinated, the young god goaded his peacock to break away from the group along with this newfound guide.
However it didn’t take long for Karttikeya to abandon his avian mount because the stag was leading them into progressively denser stretches of woodland. Indeed, hiking through the underbrush started to become such a nuisance that he began to reconsider his decision. Until of course they reached the yawning mouth of a cave.
In there the animal indicated with its antlers. Karttikeya hesitated for a moment thinking this all very strange. Nevertheless he overcame his misgivings and ventured inside. Beyond its entrance the cave became a winding corridor that the Devata had to stoop and crouch through. Visibility was minimal and the sound of dripping water complemented a dank odor that hung in the air. After continuing like that for a seeming infinity he was able to make out a faint glow up ahead where the tunnel opened into an expansive adjoining cavern. In the center of that hollow enclosure a spindly old man sat in full-lotus on a tiger’s pelt. He appeared firmly lodged in samadhi and a soft silvery halo emanated from his head.
“Who are you?” Karttikeya interrogated, putting aside the usual considerations.
The hermit stirred and countered with a cryptic remark: “Boy, I could ask you the same question and I am sure that you would give me the wrong answer.”
“I am Karttikeya, son of Agni!” He claimed with conviction.
At that the little old man roared with laughter, which resounded off stony walls.
The Devata youth was tempted to impale him on his spear but something inexplicable occurred: the elder’s balding head started to crack like an egg and luminous fissures showed up on other parts of his frail body. Without warning he burst into fragments that flew outward in every direction. Karttikeya shielded his face with forearms on a reflex though it proved unnecessary. Subsequently he had to lean back so that his vision could encompass the vast and effulgent figure of Shiva Mahadeva, in whose immeasurable presence he now found himself suspended. Behind that cross-legged Deva, his own light
- 32 -
cast a shadow onto the cavern’s interior. Within it Karttikeya watched dumbfounded as Kalachakra Bhairava (Shiva’s ogre-like double) devoured stars from Bhuloka by trillions.
The browbeaten Devata knelt and exclaimed:
“Shiva – bearer of the trident and lord across all three planes – what would you have of me Guru of gurus, Godfather of Yoga?”
“From here on in,” Shiva confuted, “I would have you know that in truth you are my firstborn son Skhanda – Lord of Armies!”
“What’s this you say? But how is that possible?”
“I once made a pact with an Ashura named Taraka. To reward him for his
devotion he was granted invincibility on the condition that only a son of mine could overcome his monstrous strength. Needless to say I had neither a son nor a mate then.
Nevertheless, in due course Brahma and Vishnu approached me together with the
cowering Devatas. They implored me to copulate with Parvati but didn’t find disrupting my samadhi to be an easy task. Hence they employed Kama, whose charms did manage to ignite my latent passion for Parvati, daughter of Himalaya.”
“If that is true then why have I spent my whole life in Antarloka and not with you in Sivaloka like Ganesha or Nandi?”
“Oddly enough my seed did not impregnate your mother. We were engrossed in
Tantric love-play for so long a span that Brahma deemed it necessary for Agni to interrupt us assuming the shape of a turtledove. The fool caught my semen in his beak when he cooed and it almost destroyed him! He passed it on to Vayu who delivered it on a gale to Ganga the river goddess. In turn, Ganga placed it among the reeds along her East bank where it took ten thousand years to ferment. Thence, six stellar maidens known as the Krittikas found you and became your nursemaids. That is why you are called Karttikeya (son of the Krittikas) and can sprout six heads as well as twelve arms.
This also explains why your skin is blue like mine.”
“So in effect you’re saying that Agni adopted me and concealed my identity up
until now?”
“Is it too hard to believe? The Devatas fear you for being my son. Yet they are cunning and manipulative. I have chosen the most opportune moment to reveal these secrets in order that you might respond appropriately. Know then that Indra’s supremacy is reaching its climax and that I would have you occupy his throne in short order.
Accordingly you are not to partake in this quarrel between Lord Chandra and the others.
It must be allowed to play out in full.”
- 33 -
“It is just as well,” Skhanda concurred, “seeing as I had no intention of joining them to begin with. But what am I to do during the interim, omnipotent sire?”
“Make for the Southern wastelands. Purify yourself by practicing Yoga amid
those charnel grounds. When the hour is at hand you will be confronted by a righteous Ashura capable of trading blows evenly with you.”
“A righteous Ashura? Surely you jest, for that is unheard of.”
“There is a first time for everything,” Shiva certified. “You should also take the buck who brought you here in that general direction. He has another appointment to fulfill with destiny.”
Skhanda got to his feet and nodded emphatically. “Today is a joyous day because the unruly suspicions of my heart have been dispelled by Nilakantha, Lord Blue Neck, who drains poison from our lives!”
That having been said Skhanda was transported back outside where he was met
by the stag. They left together, heading south.
~ ≈ ~
Flanked by his four-armed brother (Vidyunmalin) and the Raksha Priestess Kaitabh, Upaya sauntered through the horde of Daityas, crossing over into the Danava’s
encampment. They were met there by Andhaka Eight-Arms, Dasyus and Trisiras;
surviving comrades from their campaign into the nether sphere.
As they aged Danava giants tended to grow more arms. Andhaka’s cohorts had
only one pair each but didn’t look any weaker than him. Standing sixty feet tall and wielding bludgeons befitting their scale they were undeniably intimidating for anyone.
The opaque plates of their armor alone could be used as shields by their somewhat scrawnier cousins. Both triads exchanged formalities and Upaya spoke with Andhaka:
“When can I expect to converse with the elders of your clan?”
“Our patriarch Berunni will be arriving any minute now,” imparted Andhaka.
True to those words they then saw Berunni and six members of his family shoving their way through the mass of brutes. Berunni Twenty-Arms was oversized even by Danava standards. It was remarkable that his tusks didn’t pierce his long bearded face when he talked:
“Upaya Panther-Mask and Kaitabh of the Rakshas – I welcome you to my vale
though I harbor qualms concerning your objectives.”
- 34 -
“Then let me assure you, paramount one, that my intentions hold the best interests of all Ashuras at their core and not my own personal gain,” Upaya professed. “I believe we’d be unwise to let the opportunity that now presents itself slip through our fingers.”
“You mean the opportunity to suffer terrible deaths caused by the Devatas,”
riposted the ogre, “or have you forgotten that they’re immortal?”
“Perhaps Berunni has forgotten that Soma is the Devata entrusted with the
distribution of Amrita,” Kaitabh dared to add, raising a clawed index. Her bat-like wings unfolded and her pupils dilated when she spoke, making it look as if those sanguine eyes were about to detach from that frilled skull. “If the legends don’t lie we may stand to gain more than we bargain for.”
“Humph!” Scorned the Danava chief. “Isn’t that what everyone says when
misfortune befalls? You are undoubtedly naïve to think that Lord Chandra would share immortality’s nectar with the likes of us.”
Many giants in the periphery grunted their agreement. Upaya weighed his words
carefully before stating:
“The moon god really has no say in that matter. If he does not supply at least some of us with Amrita then we shall withdraw and deprive him of our sorely needed military assistance. Furthermore I for one will not cower before the Devatas. If need be, I am determined to spearhead our assault against King Indra himself!”
Hearing this Upaya’s older brother raised his four brawny arms, holding different weapons in each hand. He called back to the onlooking Daityas: “Upaya knows no fear!”
The entire tribe chanted that phrase in a rousing exhibit of support for their valiant prince. Berunni traded frowns with his associates until the tumult receded then said:
“Worthy Daitya, while we do not question your commitment to our common
cause there is only one way this can be settled and you know it.”
Catching his drift the prince straightened to reply: “Naturally. Custom demands that I prove my fitness to lead by dueling your champion. Select him then but be forewarned – he could lose limbs in this fight. Limbs that might be dearly missed during upcoming engagements.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Kaitabh interposed while wringing her hands.
“It’s nothing my healing sorcery can’t handle.”
The prime Danavas ignored them as they huddled to decide on their champion.
Afterward Berunni Twenty-Arms proceeded to introduce his nephew Virocana of
- 35 -
Twelve-Arms – who sported a titanic sledge hammer as well as two curling ram’s horns that grew from his head.
Andhaka Eight-Arms hunkered down near Upaya to whisper: “Are you positive
you want to carry on with this? Even I would avoid a scuffle with that lummox. He’s a thoughtless killing machine.”
“The higher the stakes the greater the rewards,” the plucky Daitya recited while grasping the hilt of his sword and taking a few practice swings in order to stretch out his eager muscles. He continued loosening his neck, upper body and legs as everybody else backed away from these paladins, creating a wide circle of spectators. Upaya adopted a stance in which he propped the length Garuda’s Feather behind his ample shoulders, leaving one hand free to incite his opponent