Govinda (The Aryavarta Chronicles) (29 page)

‘Nevertheless, we’ll pay a price. We’ll end up bowing to one more would-be conqueror, and barter and trade our pride to hang
on to what we’ve built on our own, with
our
sweat and blood,’ Balabadra testily observed.

‘So be it,’ Govinda said, casually crossing his arms across his chest. ‘Things have been heading to this pass since …’ He
paused and then said, ‘There’s something you need to know, Agraja. I was the one who brought Ghora Angirasa out of hiding.
It took me the better part of many years, but I found him at last and made him come back to Aryavarta.’

‘What?’ Balabadra was astounded. ‘But … why?’

Govinda met his brother’s shocked gaze without flinching. ‘It was the only way to bring things to this pass. To finish what
I had begun two decades ago. Ghora’s death was inevitable, and essential.’

Balabadra said nothing for a while, and stood looking out at the dark sea around them. He had suspected Govinda of much and
had been patient solely out of trust in his younger brother. But this – this kind of cold, methodical scheming – was beyond
his wildest imagination. Before he could stop himself, he found the words spilling out, along with his brewing anger. ‘I was
hardly a few years old, when our father brought you to the vraja, to Gokul village. My mother, Rohini, and I were already
there.’ His voice took on a hint of surprise at his own words, for he could not remember ever
having alluded to the fact that he and Govinda were, in fact, only half-brothers, sons of the same father.

Trying to find solace in the memories he treasured, Balabadra quickly continued, ‘They used to call you Krishna because of
your dark skin. It was I who gave you the name Govinda. Did you think it was just another name for a gwala boy? The name contained
all that you meant to me. The cows that we used to tend are just metaphors for the senses with which every human chases the
light of truth, the quest that defines us in every waking moment. You were a herdsman of those senses, my brother. You made
me believe in the goodness of human beings, you made me dream of a better world, of something to live for, and that is why
I named you Govinda. But now …’ He shook his head and a hard edge crept into his voice, ‘You’re playing with darkness, Govinda.
With darkness and fire. It’s a dangerous game, one that may destroy us all.’

Govinda shrugged, a gesture of grim acceptance.

Balabadra could not help but yield as he felt the emotion slowly extend to cover him. With effort, he pushed all traces of
anger and disappointment out of his mind and said, ‘So Dwaipayana will form a Kuru empire after all.’

Govinda nodded. ‘Dwaipayana shall form an empire, yes … a peaceful empire. As to whose empire it’ll truly be …’

He smiled, content at the thought.

THE TWO MEN WERE ALONE IN THE WELL-APPOINTED ROOM, IF
a room it could be called. Heavy green creepers languorously wound their way up crystalline pillars, and tiles of marble
and grass alternated in precise patterns on the floor. Huge windows, almost indistinct when open, led out onto a lawn that
rolled on and on in unbroken verdure save for the carefully placed stone fountains and carved statues, each one distinct in
design. The weather was pleasant and
sunny, and the gentle sound of the wind in the trees and the occasional chirp of some bird or the other gave the scene an
idyllic air.

Govinda sat at ease, his body still and his expression tranquil, neither impressed by the surroundings nor indifferent to
them. He had arrived well before dawn and gone directly from the stables to Dharma’s private palace. There he had bathed and
dressed, but refused all food and drink till he had spoken to Dharma. He also refused to allow the attendants to wake his
host or interrupt his routine, preferring instead to wait, as would a common audience seeker.

When he was finally told of Govinda’s arrival, Dharma was pleasantly surprised at this formal display of friendship and loyalty.
Govinda was notorious for his dislike of social ritual, as much as Dharma found them comforting. Such routines, Dharma believed,
clearly established the hierarchy and order of things without causing discomfort or loss of face for those involved. It was
the civilized, noble way of doing things.

The wind suddenly fell, and all was quiet. Unbearably quiet.

Dharma broke the silence. He said, ‘Tell me … What do you think of me, Govinda?’

‘What I think isn’t important,’ Govinda replied. ‘What’s important is why you choose to ask this question.’

Dharma paused. He shifted in his seat to directly face Govinda and said, ‘When my uncle gave me Kandava, I almost refused.
I had little desire to be king and was content to lead a simple, honourable life.’

‘And have you now changed your mind?’

Dharma was taken aback a little by the incisive question. He carefully replied, ‘Many generations ago our ancestors whom we
revere on par with the gods – Pururavas and Yayati – ruled over a huge dominion from this very place. This was the heart of
Aryavarta, of a mighty empire, before it fell into ruin. Now that we’ve rebuilt this city, it would be a shame if it were
not the capital of the empire once more. I … I long for a simple life, Govinda, but that doesn’t make me a simpleton. I’d
be a fool if I ignored the various interests that are tied in with mine.’

‘Indeed,’ Govinda politely affirmed.

‘And for that reason I am forced to confront my own duty as a warrior, a duty to conquer and craft.’

‘Oh? But why should that bother you?’

‘Because much of what has transpired these past months has been providential, even serendipitous. I have no explanation for
all that has happened except that it was divinely ordained. Nothing can stem the tide of destiny whether it leads to joy or
sorrow. But the fact remains that I have been greatly blessed and it is my solemn duty to give thanks to the gods that have
been kind to me by spreading their glory. I can’t ignore the purpose for which the gods have placed me in this prosperous
and powerful situation. Their will must be done.’

Govinda remained silent.

Leaning forward eagerly, Dharma continued, ‘Yet, I remain confused. I don’t know if it is the right thing to do … Is glory
all there is to life? Is there no value for piety? Please, tell me what you
really
think of me …’

Govinda smiled and said, ‘I’ve heard it said that you earn by your very word and deed the name that was given to you at birth,
Dharma. Isn’t it impossible for you to think an unrighteous thought or to speak an untruth? That you’ve contemplated this
implies that it must be virtuous.’

Dharma mulled over the well-chosen words. Almost warily he began, ‘There remains, of course, the matter of Emperor Jarasandha.
Most of the kings around the region either fear him or owe their allegiance to him. Rukmi of Vidharbha, Shisupala of Chedi,
Saubha the king of Salwa, the Nishada chief Ekalavya, Vasusena and, of course, our cousin Syoddhan of Hastina …’ he counted
off despondently. ‘They are all formidable. And then we have the vassals within Magadha. Above all, there is the Imperial
Army.’

‘Before we even get to that, by law and right, Jarasandha
is
Emperor. For another man to declare himself such, he must overthrow Jarasandha. That, and the fact that once Magadha is yours
so are all its vassals, especially those in the eastern kingdoms.’

Dharma shifted again in his seat, uncertain and tense. ‘But how
do we get rid of him? Govinda, forgive me, but even you retreated before the Emperor’s might …’

Govinda good-humouredly waved the comment aside. ‘Even if you won a war against him the aftermath wouldn’t be worth it. The
kind of taxes and tributes that you’d have to impose on your vassals just to set right the devastation and rebuild your armies
would make you very unpopular. You’d be asking for a reign filled with rebellion and conflict.’

‘Then there’s no hope,’ Dharma said, sitting back in a sulk.

‘Jarasandha’s not a stupid man,’ Govinda continued. He stood up and looked down at Dharma with a smile. ‘He knows you can’t
afford a war and will try to escalate hostilities and declare war the moment he can show just cause. The slightest whiff of
an attack or any offensive against him, and he’ll march out with his army. We need to meet the lion in his den, get him on
the defensive. We have to fight him without giving him time to consider alternatives.’

‘That’s impossible,’ Dharma declared, rising to his feet.

‘Nothing’s impossible. Leave it to me … But don’t speak of things beyond the immediate to anyone just yet, Dharma. Don’t speak
of an empire to anyone. Not even to Panchali.’

Dharma looked at the man, trying hard to not appear overly effusive. Nevertheless, he could not help but show some excitement,
and joyfully embraced Govinda. As he returned the gesture, Govinda wondered what Panchali would have to say about all of this.

‘You … you piece of … You!’ Panchali hissed at Govinda the moment she saw him.

‘I’m well, thank you, and how are you?’ he sarcastically responded.

She ignored him, and went on, scathing now, ‘Again the great Govinda Shauri walks in and out of Aryavarta, in and out of our
lives, as though we were … nothing. I haven’t heard from you in all these days, and now you just saunter into my room and
expect me to say that I’m happy to see you?’

‘Panchali …’ he tried to speak but she cut in, swatting off the calming hand that he placed on her shoulder.

‘You come running at Dharma’s beck and call … You do enjoy your newfound role as hero to the Kurus, and enjoy it enough to
support this … this abominable war against the Emperor, don’t you?’

‘Panchali, please …’

‘… this … this
thing
will ruin our people with useless bloodshed and unfair taxes …’

‘Panchali …’

‘… not to mention that we can’t hope to win. And if we do leave Aryavarta without the firm leadership it needs, it’ll spawn
an entirely new breed of corrupt vassals who will do nothing but backstab and bicker among themselves! You and Dharma … you
… you
men
! You arrogant animals, all! Hah!’ She flopped into a chair, in a dark and determined sulk.

Govinda bent down, resting a hand on each arm of Panchali’s chair. ‘You should have considered all that before you began meddling
around, as you have,’ he told her.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Where did you think it would lead? You trade, you build new roads, and maybe someday you’ll even farm the barren, lifeless
desert … Did you think the rest of Aryavarta was going to watch you with glee and shower their blessings on you? Did you even
consider what the next step was, after Dharma sat on the throne of Indr-prastha? You don’t have a choice; none of us do. This
goes way beyond anything you could imagine.’

‘So you admit, then, that you foresaw this? You foresaw that we would go up against the Emperor?’

‘Foresaw? I’ve tried my best to bring things to this …’

‘Then you also admit that you’ve used me in this game of yours?’

‘Do you object?’ he asked, looking a little amused.

Panchali said nothing, but evenly met his gaze. She felt a certain calm knowing that things were going as predicted after
all. First Govinda would use the Kurus to destroy Jarasandha. And then …

‘Trust me,’ Govinda urged, cutting in on her thoughts.

‘Trust you?’ she said, incredulous. ‘Hah! Govinda, the world
is divided into those who admire you and those who fear you. Neither lot questions you, and you mistake that for trust. But
trust is something that only an equal can give, it’s something that each one of us must earn by his or her word and deed.
You can’t go around being secretive like you are and expect people to trust you.’

Govinda straightened up and stood with his arms crossed across his chest. Panchali looked up at him for a few moments.

Letting go of her anger, she tried to reason with him, ‘I know Govinda Shauri always has a plan, but why doesn’t anyone ever
know what it is? Why won’t you ever share what’s on your mind, truly and completely?’

‘Then it becomes rather boring, doesn’t it? No more mystery, no more excitement left in anything.’

‘But it’s so unfair of you to hoard all the fun and excitement. What will become of petulant princesses like me if you don’t
entertain us?’

‘Fair point,’ Govinda jestingly conceded. Softly, he added, ‘But, surely, there are other activities both of us would find
more entertaining to share?’

‘Stop flirting with me, Govinda,’ Panchali commanded lightly. ‘Rudra knows you’ve said and done enough to break my heart already.’

Govinda ignored the veiled truth in her words and said instead, ‘So, does that mean I have to beg some more, for forgiveness?’

‘Just a little bit more.’

‘What if I said you look lovelier than ever?’ Govinda teased.

‘Oh, shut up! As if I don’t know you … Don’t bother trying to mollify me with such ridiculously old-fashioned lines.’

‘Should I try some new lines then? How about if I said that you look more intelligent than ever, that a new wisdom sparkles
in your eyes?’

‘How about if you said you’ll spare me all this indulgent banter that obviously assumes I have the intellect of a six-year-old?’

Govinda threw his arm around her shoulder. ‘Go on then, tell me what I should know about what I’ve just done. Rather, agreed
to do.’

‘And you’ll listen?’

‘Why not? Haven’t I, before? And shouldn’t I all the more, now? After all, from what I hear, the finances and most other affairs
of Dharma’s establishment are in your care. And now I find he and I cannot even have a private discussion without you coming
to know of it …’

Panchali considered Govinda for a while, becoming aware by the moment that this was her chance. Choosing her words carefully,
she began to explain, ‘Aryavarta is in great danger – you know that better than anyone else. The threat of civil war and the
threat of foreign invasion both lie heavy over us, though many would want to deny it. But a new empire, a different emperor
– these aren’t the solutions to the problem.’

‘Then what is?’

‘Listen to me, Govinda. The vastness of Aryavarta has cajoled us into being nurturers and lulled us into a false sense of
security, making us easy targets. It’s also tied us to the land. We not only lack skill as seafarers, but we also lack what
I can only call a sailor’s heart, the sense that the vast oceans and what lies beyond them are relevant to us, part of our
view of the world. I know someone from a smaller nation, or an island kingdom, would be more at ease with these ideas …

‘Unfortunately,’ Panchali continued, with a slow, sad shake of her head, ‘it’s not in me and not in most Aryas to see the
oceans the same way. It’s not in us to seek out distant, new lands to conquer and colonize. Which is why we have civil war,
one cycle of upheaval after another. Emperors overthrown by their own vassal kings, and kings by their saamantas. We make
war either against our own kin or against our friends and neighbours. But you? You have the heart of an explorer, Govinda.
You have the seas and the lands beyond to conquer. You don’t need war, not with Jarasandha. Not with anyone in Aryavarta.
Don’t do this!’

She looked at him in earnest as she finished, hoping that this time she could achieve using reason what she had failed to
using emotion, back at Kandava. She fought back the bile that rose in her throat at the thought of a war with the Emperor,
the inevitable bloodshed that would come upon them if she failed to convince Govinda.

She could not fail. She would not fail.

Govinda, however, seemed less than persuaded. He studied her for a few moments, a slight frown creasing his forehead. His
eyes remained hard and impenetrable, as they often were of late. ‘And Dharma?’ he finally queried.

Panchali did not know what to say, except for what she honestly believed. ‘An Arya’s sense of honour is driven by the belief
that conquest and glory are part of our divinely ordained duty. Such passionate principles have been instilled in most of
us over generations and they can’t be expected to subside overnight. In Dharma’s case, these strong foundations have been
significantly repressed, all in the name of peace and nobility. He longs to emulate someone like Grandsire Bhisma, where he
can lay claim to virtue through personal sacrifice but not give up on that which defines him as a warrior and an Arya. But
…’

‘But?’

‘Whatever the reasons, he’s been forced to do the opposite. His reputation for nobility has been earned in a public role,
as a lover of virtue and justice. He has been left to gratify his need to feel like a warrior through personal trifles, like
gambling. To make him play the part of conqueror would be to place unfettered power in the hands of one who believes in morality
but lacks the self-restraint to live with it.’