Nine: Vengeance of the Warrior (4 page)

‘Some things are better left undisturbed,’ Ravi said and cranked up the thumping music. Despite the headache-inducing rhythm, Anita was thankful for the brief respite. She thought about all the time she had spent in different libraries. The largest library in Kolkata had records of the Nine. These documents were in the restricted-access section. She had cooked up a plausible story to get into the special section which stored historical documents donated by unknown individuals. The elderly librarian didn’t mind as long as she didn’t take anything out of the section. These days no one was interested even in the accessible shelves of books. ‘It is all about the Internet. That’s the new God,’ he had said as he had shuffled over to the locked area and gladly opened the door to Anita. A treasure of knowledge was stored there and no one was interested! Anita spent as much time as she could, trying to understand the many facets of King Ashoka. The texts were in another language, but illustrations and maps made it easier to understand. There was one volume on the Vimanas, the ancient flying vehicles that existed thousands of years ago. One had been used by Rama to bring his wife, Sita, back home.

She spent hours in the library. Occasionally, she brought in a sandwich and shared it with the lonely librarian while she researched. She had already covered the well-known historical facts about Ashoka but what she was most interested in was the creation of the secret society. Ashoka had hand-picked a select group of men to safeguard ancient knowledge. They were assigned the onerous task of deciphering the Sanskrit manuscripts containing details of the ancient knowledge.
How did Ashoka even have access to these scriptures?
Anita had wondered. She had visited the pillars and edicts and various Mauryan sites, but found nothing of consequence.

Memories of her grandfather’s deteriorating mind caused her much grief. He had lost the battle with Alzheimer’s. Or so they say. Anita had her doubts. Her grandfather had died because of the Nine—he had become obsessed with them. And now she was on the same route, searching frantically for evidence. The more she delved into the maze, the more riddles she had to solve. Anita knew that the sensible thing to do was to let it go. Forget it. But no, she was adamant. She had to find out. For the sake of his memory, she would prove that these shadowy people existed and had the capacity to ruin lives.

The city and its hustle and bustle left behind, they were on plain land. Tree-lined roads slowly changed into thickly padded pathways, now surrounded by farmlands. Anita tied a bandana around her head: it would absorb the sweat. She had bought several bottles of water from a small shop along the way. She swallowed another mouthful from her third bottle. It was an unquenchable thirst. The sun was strong even though it was nearing dusk. The late evening sunshine hopefully would bring some solace. She reflected on her passion. She had studied King Ashoka and his secret society for a few years. It was odd and frustrating that her grandfather had not mentioned any related facts. Anita’s grandmother didn’t have much to say either. Anita settled back in her seat, contemplating.

‘Still a long way?’ she called out. The last thing she wanted was to reach after dark. The ride was getting bumpier as they hit the dirt track. As the jeep sped past the thick undergrowth, Anita noticed a few banyan trees.

Studying her map intermittently, she finally shouted to Ravi to stop. He hit the brakes hard. The jeep came to a standstill near Gomuti Kund, a water tank, which had steps running down to it. Further ahead was the ashram.

‘Memsa’ab, there’s nothing here. Why don’t I take you to the temple?’ Ravi asked in a loud voice.

The place was too quiet. Anita took in the hushed atmosphere; it seemed almost eerie in the setting sun’s rusty glow. The earth turned red for a split second and then dusk fell. ‘It’s dangerous, memsa’ab, to be here. This is not a common spot for tourists.’ Anita ignored Ravi’s warning.

Curiosity got the better of her. ‘Why? Is there no one here? What’s there to be afraid of?’ she asked. Her ears were still ringing from the crazy drive and the crazier thumping music.

He shrugged. ‘There are people watching us,’ he said quietly.

She ignored his comment and looked around. There was no one, just the greenery and buzzing flies. Ravi turned away and murmured something about crazy city women.

‘You wait by the car,’ Anita instructed. ‘I’ll be back soon.’ Determinedly, she grabbed her bag and map and headed down the slippery steps towards the edge of the pond. All around her was a sinister stillness. She gazed at the bottom of the steps. The pool was murky, green scum floating on its stagnant surface. This is where the stone tablet with numerals engraved on it was believed to have been found. Anita walked around the pond, moving towards its northern point.

She stood there with closed eyes, enjoying the silence. She took a deep breath and let out a sigh: she wished she could uncover the truth behind this place. Opening her eyes, she looked at the dank waters. It was almost invisible—she could have easily missed it. There was something oval-shaped just under the surface of the water. She ran back up the stairs and broke off a long dead branch from a tree. She returned excitedly, almost tripping down the steps. The air was cloying, while around her it grew suddenly darker. It seemed to her as if time itself stood still.

An urgent instinct warned her to return to the car. But she ignored the feeling and stepped down to the lowest step. She could feel a churning in her gut; her pulse was racing and heart pounding. The uneasy stillness bothered her. All around her were the stone steps. The oddity was that there were no buzzing insects or bird sounds. She looked up, the sky was slowly turning to navy blue. Anita hesitated for a second. No, she was not going to leave until she found out what that object was. She kneeled down and used the stick to shift the grit and scum floating on the surface. She leaned closer and the stick hit a hard surface. It was two or three inches below the water level. Anita hesitated; then, getting down on her knees, she reached out and slipped her hand into the water. There! A solid circular stone with etchings. She traced the stone block and tried to look at it but the water was too murky. Focusing with her eyes closed, she touched the surface, trying to feel the etchings with her fingers. The centre of the stone felt smooth, as though a circular metal disc was embedded in it. Maybe it was a submerged stone pillar, and she was feeling the top of it. It seemed to be about twelve inches in diameter. Painstakingly feeling the surface, she could make out intricate markings. She traced her fingers over the neat lines. A yantra. ‘How come no one noticed this before?’ Anita murmured out loud, eyes still closed. Excitedly, she removed her camera from her bag and did her best to take close-up shots of the surface. Zooming in with her camera lens and turning on the flash, she felt her heart thump with excitement, realizing what she had discovered. The carvings were shaped like a mystical ancient diagram, more specifically, a mandala.

A mandala is a square diagram with a circle in the centre, culminating into a focal point. Since ancient times, spiritual seekers have used it as a point for intense focus, a means of inducing a state of trance. Yogis have used it as a mind tool to access deeper levels of the unconscious and discover secrets of the universe, more specifically superhuman knowledge.

Anita placed her palm over the embedded metal disc and focused all her energy on her third eye. The disc suddenly felt hot to the touch. And she could feel herself floating in mid-air, over the trees. In her mind’s eye, she saw Ravi leaning against the car, smoking. She saw the Acharya making a call to someone; she heard him whisper, ‘She’s probing about the Nine. Be warned.’ She felt an amazing sense of peace centre in her heart chakra. Anita tried to move the disc, but it suddenly shifted and seemed to sink. Her eyes flew open. ‘No!’ she shouted. Her hand was now elbow-deep in water. The stone was sinking. ‘Stop!’

‘How dare you?’ The voice was a shockwave breaking the stillness and caused her to pull back her hand. On three sides of the water tank, yogis thronged every single step. The tall bearded men wearing loincloths and rudra beads, with their chests smeared with ash and hair tied in a knot at the top of their heads, were motionless like statues, eyes peeled on her.

Anita gaped. ‘I …’

One of them approached her and banged his wooden staff on the stone step. ‘Why are you here?’ he demanded. He pointed at the submerged mandala and growled, ‘You have no right to interfere.’ The water level rose and suddenly she found herself waist-deep in the pond. The water was ice cold. ‘Oh my God, please stop!’ she murmured.

Anita quickly scrambled to the upper levels, breathing heavily, soaked to the skin. Her camera had been submerged and thus rendered useless. She stared at the holy men, too shocked to speak. ‘I was searching for …’

‘Proof of the existence of the Navratnas.’ The yogi looked at her fixedly. ‘We know.’

‘Who are you?’ she finally squeaked.

‘We are the people who make sure commoners like you keep your filthy hands away from the pure. These are private and sacred grounds. You are the intruder and you dare to question me?’ he said, his voice rising.

Anita’s eyes searched the upper levels, there was no one to whom she could call for help. She was so overwhelmed by what she had experienced, and the magical appearance of the yogis, that she didn’t know what to do. ‘I’m just an explorer, I want to learn about the Nine unknown men, the secret society created by King Ashoka,’ Anita said firmly, although it sounded flimsy to her ears. ‘I know they exist. It’s absolutely fantastic to have gained this knowledge from that metal mandala!’ she exclaimed.

He pointed his staff at her, his eyes bloodshot and angry. ‘How dare you come here without permission?’ The staff was as thick as a bamboo pole, but seemed to undulate. Anita blinked, trying to get a grip on her senses. The old man was not done with his rant. ‘With your polluted hands and mind you touched the holy stone!’ Hypnotized by the stick being waved in her face, she thought it moved like a snake. She stepped back, fear taking control of her senses, and inched closer to the topmost step.

Anita tried to reason with the man. ‘I didn’t mean any disrespect. I didn’t mean to disturb this sacred place or anybody … but I am learning about King Ashoka, I am learning about the great things he has done in his life. One of them was to start the secret society to protect ancient knowledge,’ she was almost at the top of the stairs. The yogis moved apart, making way for her. The yogi still held the stick in her face, following her. She felt like an idiot, having gone there unarmed. And now she faced a bunch of crazy men. This was such a great discovery that she needed time to study it. ‘Those markings on that stone are proof that the Nine unknown men exist; the most secret of all secret societies is not a legend, it is a fact. Tell me that it is true, and I shall leave.’ She raised her hands as if in surrender.

‘We are the yogis who protect the secret. We keep people like you from messing with something more powerful than you can understand. You?’—he pointed a bony finger—‘Nothing but a weakling; a mere mortal who has no respect for that which is beyond your understanding. You are not strong enough to understand.’ The holy man lowered his staff. His voice was calmer. ‘The truth is too powerful for you. This mandala is not proof of any Nine unknown men, it is proof of ancient knowledge that must remain submerged in mystery or the likes of you will use it for your own selfish ends. You will suffer the consequences if you search for the Navratnas. Knowledge attracts energy, sometimes the wrong kind if you are not careful. You will be attacked by vengeful spirits that will want to know more. Ignorance is bliss for mere materialistic mortals like you,’ the mad yogi said, rhythmically hitting his staff on the stone. The yogis around him did the same, tapping the stone steps with their staffs. Anita’s brain throbbed from the noise. She could not understand what he was talking about. The metal disc had ancient markings and these were symbols of the Nine. But this crazy man was talking about something else.

‘Okay, I will leave.’ She looked down at the pond. Its surface was still and murky.

‘Yes, go back to your world and don’t ever return or you die,’ he said viciously.

Anita could see from the man’s glare that he meant business. Still, she decided to make one last attempt. ‘Tell me it is true. Tell me that I am right, that this is evidence of King Ashoka’s secret society and that the Nine exist even today.’

His glare was angrier than ever. Slowly, he raised his stick. Anita had a sinking feeling. She should have just left. Her obstinate nature was going to get her into big trouble one day, her grandmother had warned. Looks like the day had come. This time the staff looked like an arrow. She blinked a few times.

He spoke softly. ‘What is the matter with you, woman? Do you not understand? The truth will destroy you. You materialistic humans are nothing but selfish and cruel!’ He looked at her menacingly. ‘What do you know of this era or of the thousands of eras before you? What do you know of the people who sacrifice everything to protect it from destroying itself? Shoo! Get out of here! Go!’

Anita stood her ground even though she realized it was foolish to annoy a mad yogi. ‘I’m not the enemy. I just wish to know the truth about Ashoka’s men. That’s all. If they exist or not … or was that just a lie?’

The yogi came close and stared deep into her eyes. Anita’s pulse raced. This was it. He was going to kill her. He was going to impale her with his magic stick. She would be reduced to ash. She waited for the inevitable. Instead, he just stared hard. Anita felt his gaze drill into her skull, deep into her mind. It was too much. She stepped back and turned away from his ferocious eyes.

The yogi started to laugh. He shook his head. ‘Amazing! What destiny has chosen for you is amazing!’ He laughed harder.

‘What?’ Anita shouted back, feeling violated and insulted.

He pointed a finger at her. ‘Your fate is already written … You will be like us, one of the protectors!’ He gave a throaty laugh. Then, abruptly, he grabbed her arm. His grip was strong and firm. ‘We might as well connect you to us,’ he whispered harshly. Anita felt such a panic-stricken churning hit her gut that with a sudden surge of adrenalin, she twisted and wrenched her arm away from his hold. She scrambled up the remaining steps and ran as if a pack of wolves were after her. She raced out into the open area, passing the vegetation along the path. She found Ravi leaning against the car, enjoying a cigarette.