Shakti: The Feminine Divine (5 page)

Hereon, the inhabitants of the three worlds would know and worship her as Durga. At the hour when the need for her would be greatest, she would appear before them and rid them of the evil that had destroyed their happiness. All would bow before her might and worship at her feet. Henceforth the path to reach her would be notoriously hard and the quest would be impossibly difficult, and a billion lifetimes would be insufficient to see them through to the end of the journey. Faith, boundless love and a dogged determination would be needed for the task.

Usas would disappear into the core of Shakti to rid herself of the tragedy that had nigh destroyed her. She would re-emerge as Durga, the invincible and inaccessible warrior goddess, and so she would remain for the rest of time. The veils of time parted and she saw herself standing tall on a desolate battlefield, hordes of demonic creatures fleeing from her in abject terror even as her power cut them down to pieces, while the gods watched, palms folded in worship. She saw Rudra too, but like her, he had evolved and they were locked together in a passionate embrace. The glimpse of the future filled her with precious hope and she was ready to leave her past behind.

The goddess began walking again, allowing her feet to take her where they wished. They led her back towards the darkening sky and ashen clouds that were so dear to her sister.
The more she walked, the lighter she felt in body and mind, even as she began fading into the approaching dusk. There was no bitterness left in her soul and she was grateful. Which was why she gave the three worlds a parting gift—the light she had always carried within, which had been used to drive away the darkness, she freely gave the stars. It was time for Usas to depart from a world that had been so cruel to her, and never come back, except in cherished memories stored in fond hearts. There would be other dawns, but there would never be another Usas.

Nemesis

S
ACHI, THE QUEEN
of the gods, was on top of the three worlds, so flushed with triumph that it was impossible to contain it all within her without exploding. It was wonderful to feel such ecstasy, she thought, dwelling with satisfaction on her latest achievement. Her victory over the odious goddess of dawn had proved yet again that there was nothing she was incapable of doing, provided she set her mind on it and divested herself entirely of the trappings of tedious morality, which had never encumbered her much in the first place.

As Indra’s consort, she was privileged to bask in his reflected glory and shamelessly help herself to the perks that went with being the beloved of the powerful god of thunder. Those foolish enough to incur her displeasure did so at their own peril.

Usas, with her free-spirited ways, had enraged Sachi no end, as she refused to select a mate or marry someone suited to her station or bring forth children, as was expected of females by
convention and sacred duty. Despite not making the sacrifices Sachi had made or quite reaching her level of prestige, Usas was still treated like royalty.

Sachi knew that barring Usas, she was the envy of every female in the three worlds. Rightfully, they all wanted to be her, as she truly had it all—looks, wealth sufficient for endless kalpas, the unswerving love of a monarch and unlimited power that went with her exalted status. Of course, she had not always had so much; that’s why her success in making the best possible match and ensuring the perfect future for herself tasted so much sweeter.

As the daughter of Puloma, the asura king born to Sage Kashyap and Danu, Sachi was a direct descendant of both Vishnu and Brahma. The early years of the future queen of the devas certainly did not live up to her expectations, given her distinguished bloodline. She hated her people for their nomadic ways, warlike tendencies, rough manners and endless capacity for destruction.

Her father had dragged his family with him on endless campaigns against the mortals and later, the immortals. The idea was to bolster the confidence of the troops by showing them he was so sure of success that he felt justified in keeping his family close to the battlefield, where others may keep their women and other precious possessions locked up far away, fearing ignoble defeat. The ruse worked and the goddess of victory seemed to have taken up permanent residence on his shoulders.

It was Puloma’s dream to conquer the three worlds and gift them to his many sons as their birthright. Such a vainglorious plan may have sent his heirs into conniptions of glee, but it failed to impress his oft-ignored daughter, who knew that
the future envisioned by Puloma held no glory for her. In all likelihood, she would be shunted off to some underling of her father’s as a bride and forced to toady up to her brothers and survive off their largesse. But Sachi would never settle for the leftovers of her brothers. She was her father’s daughter and had always known that she was born for greatness.

Sachi did not believe in taking on her enemies of the masculine persuasion by pitting her limited physical strength against their far more formidable might. It was a stupid manoeuvre, tactically speaking, to play to their strengths. She knew that to take a man down you had to outthink and manipulate him towards his own doom. But even so, it never hurt to be prepared and learn to use a few weapons, on the off chance that your plans could go wrong.

While she waited impatiently for her turn to shine, Sachi was appalled by her immediate living conditions. She felt like a rolling stone that seemed to be gathering all that was insalubrious in nature. Life on the march entailed living like a stray dog in ramshackle shelters, grovelling in filth and eating shit. It would never do for the likes of her, who deserved so much better than to be forced to live no differently from common soldiers, whom she did not deign to even look at. Yet, she could not shut them out completely. Every morning she woke to the sound of some lout throwing up his misdeeds from the previous night or noisily and malodorously voiding his bowels and bladder. She went to sleep to the tune of their discordant snoring, drunken singing or the animalistic sounds of their perverted shenanigans in the arms of some sordid camp follower.

Repelled as she was by her brute of a father and his irritating ways, even Sachi admitted that the rough soldier was a
fine warrior. Puloma sacked many a city and his conquests were legendary. Her earliest memories included being a mute witness to his triumphs on the battlefield, which were always followed by the senseless destruction of the city and its immigrants. The victors felt fully justified in becoming the worst sort of miscreants, who revelled in the ingenious ways they devised to inflict pain on the defeated.

Cruel and tyrannical, as befit his status as the greatest villain of the age, Puloma was never content to merely conquer when he could forcibly pluck the hearts out of the vanquished and obliterate even their memories, leaving them broken in body and spirit. Those whom he did not kill outright prayed for death, begging the gods for a blessed release.

His bestial nature saw him take offence at anything that was not as repulsive as his own black heart. He seemed to derive tremendous satisfaction from tearing down fine palaces and buildings, burning down parks and gardens and smashing just about any priceless work of art he could get his grubby paws on.

Sachi had grown acclimatized to the horror, in keeping with her raptorial disposition, and become completely inured to the suffering of others, accepting it as a paltry price you paid for victory. However, she did object to the destruction of the priceless objects that she desired.

The outrages choreographed by Puloma, as he led his followers in endless dances of death, left his daughter strangely satisfied. She believed that it served his royal captives right for daring to possess the fine things she wanted, but did not as yet own. The rest of the hapless innocents made her impatient as they were not as fortunate or clever as her and had allowed themselves to sink to such unacceptable levels of wretchedness.

Looking at their pathetic faces, which mirrored the depths they had sunk to, having traded in their apparel for the filthiest of rags and their dignity for a shot at life, the asura princess felt not the slightest stirring of pity although contempt there was in spades. Looking into their almost-dead eyes with supreme revulsion, Sachi counselled herself that she would never let anyone take what she valued.

Ignoring the lumpish losers her father’s wars had created, Sachi watched the excesses of the soldiers with irritation aplenty. She promised herself that someday she would be the proud possessor of all that was beautiful and truly worth having in the three worlds. Her fondest dream was to live in a fine palace as the wife of someone even more powerful than her father, who knew how to appreciate the finer things in life.

Sachi studied her options diligently and singled out Indra, king of the devas, the famed connoisseur of beauty, the antithesis of Puloma. And once her mind was set on something, she could never be deterred. Indra, although he did not know it yet, was already hers for the taking.

With the boldness and ability to strike quickly and surely, reminiscent of her father, Sachi sent a trusted emissary to their enemy, with a missive declaring her undying love for him and begging him to elope with her. Like timeless determined lovers for whom unrequited love was not an option, she threatened to kill herself if Indra did not reciprocate her passion and oblige her as quickly as possible. What she left unwritten was that if he did dare to reject her, she did not intend to actually kill herself, but would have no compunctions about tracking him down and despatching him post-haste to Yama’s abode.

Determined to succeed, Sachi felt that a little more than flattery and emotional extortion was necessary to hook the big
fish she had her eyes on. After careful consideration, she opted to dangle a big fat carrot before him, promising to make the ultimate sacrifice and betray her father. She outlined Puloma’s terrible crimes against the gods and his horrific slaughter of innocent people, concluding that it was her duty to put a stop to his inhuman reign before it was too late.

The impassioned plea certainly caught Indra’s attention, as few things gave him more pleasure than taking down an asura who was too ambitious for his own good. Puloma had already declared that the capture of Amaravathi was his aim and Indra had been racking his brain to somehow cut him off at the pass, before he could carry out his plan to despoil Indra’s beloved city. Sachi’s declaration of love and promise to help him save Amaravathi could not have come at a more opportune time.

Indra was certainly not above diddling a rival’s daughter, especially when it came with so many perks that were aligned with his interests. However, he was leery about marriage to Puloma’s daughter, given that she possessed her father’s scheming brain, treacherous ways and bloodthirsty inclinations, though she came in a comely package.

Unwisely he brushed his reservations aside, urged by an inborn libidinous tendency, even older than the survival instinct, and decided to keep his tryst with Sachi. He rationalized that with his experience it would be child’s play to get a mere slip of a girl to betray her father in return for being inducted into his legion of lovers, as opposed to holy matrimony. In the future, he would have many occasions to rue the decision that his better senses had always balked at.

The lord of the heavens and the asura princess did liaise in secret and swore undying fealty to each other. Indra had been confident of sweeping her off her feet and reducing her
to putty in his hands, but as it turned out, she was closer to an unyielding rock that would sooner crush his skull for not falling in with her plans.

Sachi was fully aware that someone like Indra would be turned off by her persistent resistance towards his desires, which he expected to be treated as inviolate commands. That was why she had yielded to his amorous advances and assuaged his doubts, had there been any, about her ability to fulfil his every wish in bed.

At this critical juncture, Sachi’s temporarily stalled plans were given the much-needed push by none other than Puloma. Having heard disturbing reports from his network of spies, he barged in on them while they were fully engaged in a passionate exploration of their bodies. Puloma knocked Indra aside with a deafening crash. He pulled out his sword and would have plunged it into Indra’s heart, but an infuriated Sachi sprang to her feet with the agility of a born fighter. She threw her own dagger with the full might of her cold fury, watching intently as it buried itself in her father’s heart.

Indra was chilled to the bone. He ought to have been grateful to her for saving his life, and mostly he was. But no one could have looked on her as she stood in all her naked glory, watching the life die out of Puloma’s eyes with such intent purpose, and not felt the slightest frisson of fear.

‘You killed him! Just like that!’ Indra murmured in disbelief.

‘I did it for your sake. So that we could be wed and joined together for the rest of time. A more loyal partner you will be hard-pressed to find. It will be my responsibility to ascertain that every one of your endeavours meets with resounding success. While you are my husband, I will personally ensure that not a hair on your head is harmed. Together we will make
a bid for unlimited power and none will be able to stand against us! All this and more will be my gift to you. I swear to it on my father’s blood!’

Indra could say nothing in the face of such determination but take her hand in his and promise marriage. Thus a bond was forged by the heat of greed, lust and an insatiable taste for power and spilled blood. It would prove to be nigh unbreakable.

A lesser individual would have been content to rest on her laurels. But not Sachi; she was already looking to consolidate her position and setting herself new goals to achieve. At her insistence, they had a grand wedding, celebrating their union with the pomp and splendour that befit the status of the king of the gods. Indra had been a tad hesitant about flaunting the fact that he was going to wed the daughter of an asura king even as he planned to wage war against them in perpetuity.