KRISHNA CORIOLIS#6: Fortress of Dwarka (7 page)

“And you fly this horseless chariot?” Tvasta asked.
 

Daruka beamed proudly. The sarathi’s cheeks tended to bulge on either side, lending him a chubby appearance which was belied by his slender body. The only chubbiness on him was in those cheeks which only made them all the more endearing. “It is my pride and privilege,” he said. “Although I do not claim to understand it. And no matter how well I master its controls, I am no match for our Lord. He maneuvers it as if it were molded to his mind.”

“And indeed it was,” said Krishna coming down the steps of the palace, Balarama beside him. Both brothers looked weary, reminding Tvasta of the same look he had seen on countless warriors returning home after a long campaign. But the battle with Jarasandha or the Yavana army had not yet been fought—indeed, it was to avoid that battle that they were undertaking this migration. Yet Krishna and Balarama both seemed war-weary in aspect and movement. Tvasta shrugged it off mentally, no doubt he was misinterpreting their tiredness. They were probably burdened by responsibilities of state.
 

“The chariot was in fact molded to my brother’s and my own thought patterns,” Krishna said, “and bearing that in mind, your ability to control it is nothing short of godlike, Daruka. Do not underrate your own excellence.”
 

Daruka blushed and smiled, his chubby cheeks flowering with embarrassment. “My Lord, you shower me with flowers too sweet to smell.”

Balarama laughed. “That’s a nice way of saying that you just embarrassed him, Krishna!” Balarama clapped the charioteer on his back lightly, yet the clap was almost hard enough to send the poor fellow flying across the courtyard. Tvasta caught him in time, smiling at the famed strength of Krishna’s brother. “Krishna’s right, Daruka. You certainly fly the pushpakas better than I do!”
 

Krishna greeted Tvasta warmly. “Good shilpi, thank you for honoring us with your presence.”

Tvasta bowered low, joining his hands reverentially before Krishna. “My Lord, it is my honor to serve you in any way I can. Even to sweep the dust from your feet would give me great pride.”

Krishna smiled and raised Tvasta up by his shoulder. “It is not your skill as a sweeper I desire, good Tvasta. It is your skill as a master of the Shilpi texts that can serve all Mathura today.”

Tvasta bowed. “Whatever you say, my Lord. Although I do not understand how my humble knowledge of the arts of shaping forms could serve Mathura, I shall do whatever you command.”

Krishna smiled. “You shall do much more than that, good sculptor. You shall build us a city today.”
 

Tvasta stared at him in dumb shock. Balarama chuckled at his expression and patted him gently on his back, then climbed aboard his own chariot.
 

Krishna gestured to the other chariot where Daruka had already taken his place at the reins. “Come aboard now, good Tvasta. We have a great distance to cover and a great deal of work ahead to be done, and barely a day in which to do it.”

Tvasta clambered aboard the chariot, swallowing nervously. “I have never been upon such a craft before, sire.”

“Well,” Krishna said genially. “You have been aboard chariots before? It’s much the same thing.”

Tvasta was about to answer that he had not had much occasion to climb aboard chariots, being a sculptor and not a warrior-lord. But just then the celestial vehicle rose up suddenly into the air and he found the palace roof falling below them at a pace as rapid as a heavy rock sinking into clear water. He gripped the edges of the chariot wheel with white-knuckled intensity, holding on for dear life. A sensation of vertigo overwhelmed him. He shut his eyes until the sensation passed.
 

Krishna’s hand on his shoulder caused him to open his eyes again. He looked up into the smiling eyes of his lord. “Do not fear, my good man. No harm will come to you. Any sensation you experience is due to your own fear. The celestial vehicle causes no change to human beings, no matter how high it rises or how rapidly it flies. You have my assurance on that. Here, take my hand.” And he held out his hand.
 

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 already 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.”

13

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.