KRISHNA CORIOLIS#6: Fortress of Dwarka (3 page)

They looked at him. Some looked shocked. Others, resigned and accustomed to Jarasandha’s arrogance. Most seemed mildly curious in the manner of men who were viewing a person on the verge of a complete breakdown, prepared for any form of behavior or outburst.
 

Jarasandha shook his head. “You still do not understand, do you? How could you? That’s why you’re merely kings and I am emperor. Emperor of Magadha, lord of the known world. Never forget that.”

They tried to be gentle. “Jara, you achieved more than any ruler in the history of the world. Why, if there were lands and territories worth claiming beyond the Kush ranges you would surely have conquered them as well. You were master of the civilized world. Nobody disputes that. But no ruler can reign forever. That is a fact of life. Your reign is ended. Live out your days peaceably. None of us will ever make a move against you.”

“Of course you won’t,” Jara said. “A toothless predator is to be pitied, not killed. That is how you can feel magnanimous and show the world what loyal friends and allies you were to the end!”

They did not respond to that allegation, not even to dispute or deny it. The implication was obvious: they did not dispute it at all.
 

“But you are all wrong in your assumption. My time isn’t over. It has only just reached its apogee. I am at the peak of my achievement. I am close to being God Incarnate upon the mortal realm. Soon, nobody will stand in my way. I will rule forever. Eternally.”

They exchanged uneasy glances now. This was the talk of a madman, not a king on the eve of a bitter defeat. Perhaps Jarasandha had gone completely over the edge, losing all touch with reality.
 

He grinned at their expressions. “Of course you don’t know what I’m talking about. How could you? You’re merely pawns in the great game of which I am master and commander. You are only permitted to know what you need to know. Nothing more or less. Therefore all you see is Jarasandha, Emperor of Magadha, defeated yet spared by Krishna-Balarama, his vast armies reduced to corpse-flesh, food for vultures and crows and maggots. You see only the apparent reality of the day, not the greater picture that transcends it.”

They shook their heads sadly. “Nothing transcends death, Jara.You armies are dead on that field. You can never raise a force that great even in a hundred years. Nobody will ever follow you into battle again. Your very survival is an affront to kshatriya dharma.”

Jarasandha chuckled. “That is where you are wrong. There is a force that transcends death. You all know of it. Can any one of you name it?”

They looked at each other now, their eyes speaking the message they did not wish to speak aloud.
He’s lost it, he’s gone insane, he’s talking utter dribble.
 

“Time, you fools. Kaal! The only force in the universe that is greater than death itself. Kaal controls the Wheel of Creation, the Becoming and Unbecoming. The cycle of birth and death, rebirth and moksha…everything turns according to the Wheel of Time. Turn back the Wheel and you defeat Death itself. Don’t you see? That’s all it takes!”

They began to shuffle towards the exit, making noises of commiseration, pretending to have business elsewhere.
 

“Go then,” he said disdainfully. “Leave me. I will remember that you did not even have the gumption to stay and hear me out afterwards. I will remember it when I return.”

“Return from where?” one asked curiously as he was about to leave. “From Magadha?”

Jarasandha laughed. “No, you fool. Haven’t you heard anything I said? When I return from Mathura, as lord of the Yadava nation, bearing the spoils of war.”

This made the last of the kings even more eager to leave. Jarasandha chuckled as he watched them sidle out, avoiding meeting his eyes as they bade him goodbye, most of them assuming it would be the last they ever saw of him.
 

In another moment, the tent was empty except for Jarasandha himself. He sat for a while as the shadows grew longer and dusk fell. The battle had ended in mid-afternoon. Less than a day to wipe out 23 akshohini. Those Yadava brothers were quite impressive, he had to admit. He replayed the day’s events in his mind several times, going over tactics and strategy, remembering their counter-moves, the celestial chariots, the weapons they deployed, their unique skills and powers. Was that all they were capable of? No, there would be more. Perhaps even infinite ways to destroy his forces. What did it matter? In the end, Mathura would be his, that was all that counted.
 

Finally, as the crickets began to crick noisily around the tent, he rose and prepared the potion he would require for the task at hand. It had to be mixed in a precise balance to ensure the perfect result. He sipped it delicately, feeling the exotic flavor on his twin palettes. Few people knew that he possessed two palettes, one above the other, lending him the ability to distinguish between a far wider variety of tastes than any mortal being. This particular potion tasted quite palatable, so to speak. If it wasn’t so specific in its effect, he might have enjoyed quaffing it on a regular basis. But of course, that would not be possible. It could only be consumed to serve a single purpose.
 

He waited for the potion to take effect. It was hours past nightfall when the effect finally took over. He sensed a blurring of the tent around him, the broken artifacts and treasures, the silk cushions and drapes…and he smelled a peculiar odor, like nothing he could identify…as the air before him shimmered and warped and distorted like a reflection viewed in a warped sheet of polished metal…

And then with a quickening of his pulse and a sudden falling sensation, the Vortal opened below him, in the ground, like a doorway sunk in the carpeting of the tent. Garish red light streamed upwards from the opening, swirling and twisting like smoke.
 

He stepped to the edge and looked down…then dropped down into the abyss.
 

5

“
My
Lord,”
Daruka said as they sped away from Jarasandha. “You seem troubled. Is there anything I can do to alleviate your anxiety?”

Krishna blinked, looking at the city looming ahead. “Yes. Take me upwards. Directly upwards.” He pointed at the sky.
 

Daruka obeyed. The celestial chariot swung upwards at a ninety degree angle, flying straight up to the sky above. Yet Krishna and Daruka remained standing as they were, unaffected by the vertical trajectory.
 

Balarama slowed his own chariot and sent a mental query to Krishna:
Bhraatr, where are you going?
 

Krishna replied:
Go home to Mathura. Go through the motions of victory as usual. I shall return shortly. I need some time to think by myself.
 

He added more genially:
Flute time
.
 

Balarama sent back the mental equivalent of a smile:
:-)
. His chariot continued towards the city, the cheers and sounds of dhol-drums and celebrations exploding even before his vehicle began to descend.
 

Krishna’s chariot continued upwards to a height greater than Daruka had ever seen before. When the earth was far beneath them and its details were too minute for even the sarathi’s keen sight to discern, he asked his master hesitantly, “Higher, my Lord?”

Krishna smiled. “Yes, Daruka. Do not worry. We shall be able to breathe as on earth. The pushpaka will care for us. I need to get away from worldly matters for a while and recall the universe as I once knew it.”

Daruka nodded, spurring the chariot on faster, their speed now so great that the very stars seemed to blur past. “I understand, Great One. If we stand too close to a tree trunk, all we see is the knot on the trunk. Sometimes one needs to see the whole forest.”

Krishna smiled again. “Or the sum total of every forest that was ever created.”

Daruka was silent for a while after that, trying to comprehend the concept of being able to view every forest ever created. It was too much for even his agile mind and eventually he gave up and simply admired the sight of stars blurring past, turning into streaks of light.

That is the point, good sarathi. To contemplate something so vast, one cannot understand it, merely accept its existence. Like viewing a star. Or a galaxy. Or all Creation.
 

Daruka marveled at his Lord’s wisdom.
I understand now, my Lord.
 

He breathed in deeply, wondering at the miracle of being able to breathe air in this vast emptiness. He knew there was no air beyond the reach of Mother Prithvi’s grasp because air itself was created by Mother Prithvi. The silence was deafening, the epic vastness overwhelming, yet he found a strange sense of calm descending upon them as they flew on farther and farther, until, glancing back over his shoulder, he could no longer even make out the green-and-blue orb that was his home.
 

After the bloody and brutal battle that had raged all day, he understood why Krishna would find such a voyage soothing. He had barely been able to comprehend the scale of slaughter visited by Krishna and Balarama upon the armies of Jarasandha but the violence had been all too real and palpable. He had even found his heart crying for the unfortunate beasts—the elephants and horses—that were compelled by their human masters to participate in that orgy of violence.
 

As a charioteer, Daruka respected animals greatly, particularly the children of the Ashwins, the great Sky Twins from whom all horsekind were descended. They were magnificent, loyal and enduring beasts. It was a sheer tragedy to see them slaughtered in a conflict that did not directly concern them. It had made him ponder on the very nature of enslavement: for what else was the use of horses and elephants, uksan and cows, if not slavery in a sense?
 

At least with cows and sheep, if one was as loving as the govindas of Gokuldham, then one could claim that the animals were as well tended as the humans they served. But horses, elephants and uksan were nothing more than slaves forced to carry the burden of their human masters, or the loads they made them carry or drag, and more often than not, those masters were nothing like the gentle govindas of Gokul. And when it came to participation in war or conflict, then their use was worse than slavery. They were merely fodder for the cruel reaping of warlords. If not inhuman, it was certainly inhumane.
 

And yet, if man did to man all that he did, then what were poor beautiful dumb animals? With what tongue could they protest?
 

In a way, Daruka was grateful that he drove a chariot without horses for Krishna. Even though, if he had been given charge of actual horses, he would have cared for them as if they were his own children. Yet this was better by far. A chariot that needed no brute force to pull it, no fear of the animals tiring or weakening, or falling ill, or breaking a leg, or being wounded in battle…Much more humane, if not more human.
 

He realized that the emptiness of space had achieved a certain purpose for him as well. He might never have thought such a thing through upon earth, busy with his daily routine and work. Least of all during the trauma of battle. Yet here it seemed so clear, so obvious. Perhaps that was the problem. Humans on earth, busy with their daily lives, forced to live minute by minute, day by day, struggling constantly, could hardly afford the luxury of thinking of the needs and welfare of animals! They had their own needs and welfare to think of first and by the time they were done seeing to their own needs, the day was done and it was time to lay their heads down for some much-needed rest. Perhaps someday hence, when the human race had progressed beyond needing to tend to its needs on a daily or immediate basis, there would an opportunity to realize such insights. To free animals from slavery. To learn to fend for themselves, either by using machines such as Pushpak, or more mundane equivalents. He prayed for such a day.
 

“We may return now, sarathi,” Krishna said from behind him. His voice sound calmer, more at ease.
 

“At once, sire,” Daruka said, willing the chariot to turn around. He then willed it to find its way back to earth on its own, for he could not tell which of the countless gleaming orbs in the endless night sky was Mother Earth, certainly not at this blinding speed.
 

“Did this respite help cool your thoughts?” Krishna’s voice asked him.
 

Daruka smiled. “Indeed, my Lord. It did.”

He felt Krishna smile at him. “It helped me as well. It always does. Although, this was the first time I have brought a mortal along.”

Daruka bowed his head without turning back, for a sarathi’s dharma required him never to leave his post or let his attention stray, horses or no horses. “I thank thee for the privilege, Great One.”

Krishna’s laughter rang in his mind. “It is I who should thank
thee
, good sarathi. You see, all I did was listen to you thinking. And it helped me resolve my own problem!”

And he continued laughing. Daruka joined in as well, although he did not entirely understand what Krishna meant. Then again, even if others may doubt or wonder, he knew beyond doubt that Krishna was God Incarnate. And God was entitled to His Mysterious Ways. Or, as those who loved and believed in Krishna termed it, His Lila.
 

6

DAWN
was still some hours distant when Krishna strode through the corridors of the Palace. The palace complex was deserted except for the usual sentries. The day’s victory had been celebrated by the populace until the wee hours and the feasting and dancing and celebrating had wound down only a short while earlier. He had returned with Daruka only moments ago, and had told the charioteer to go freshen up and consume some nourishment before they left again.