Karna's Kavach-Kundal

(My Forthcoming Novel) -

Chapter 1 - Immortals

Clad in his Kavach and decked with his Kundal, Karna could singly vanquish the three worlds. Neither Vasava, nor Varuna the lord of the waters, nor Yama, could venture to approach him... neither thyself, bending thy Gandiva, nor myself, uplifting my discus, called Sudarsana, could vanquish him in battle.

-- Shree Krishna to Arjuna in The Mahabharata, Book 7 (Drona Parva)

Immortals

Who would not be proud of his own alter ego? Yes, I am so proud of Vasu Sen, and he prides himself as having grown in my likeness, though I have done nothing to make him what he is today, except that I stood by him whenever he called me to. I still recall that dawn, three and a half decades ago, when he stood before me, hands folded in namaskar, and implored, ‘I want to be a great man like you, O Karna, I need your blessings.’

I was taken with his trust in someone like me who was neither god nor a superhuman, but just an entity from five millennia in the past. The 12-year old had stirred me from my pitri-world to answer his meditative call. I was amazed that even as a child he could bore through time and space to find me.

Let me be honest, I took a liking to the boy because I saw a reflection of me in him. I saw a warrior-like fire in him and I wanted him to succeed and not go down fighting like me. There was also a personal intrigue I wanted to solve. For that I needed the help of a man from the present era, a man sterling in character, resolute in pursuit, unflinching in the face of adversity, unbiased in reasoning, scientific in thinking, measured in actions and compassionate to the human cause.

Vasu turned out to be exactly that. No, I didn’t teach him all those traits; he turned himself to such a man on the fiery lathe of life. I simply walked beside him when he needed me. Even unseen I was always beside him to see him fare through multitudes of tests that life threw at him. It took him 35 years to reach these lofty standards, and I must say I am impressed.

He was ready for the final test, besides, I could no longer able to keep the unsolved puzzled to myself. I called him out for a stroll early in the morning and disclosed my millennia old intrigue to him: ‘Where has my Kavach-Kundal gone, Vasu?’

‘Mahapurush, I thought you always knew where it went after Lord Indra took it away from you.’

Neither I nor anyone else, but Indra, ever got to know where it went. Indra hid it in some corner of the earth, never to be found. I told Vasu that I had made discreet enquiries. ‘Indra couldn’t take it with him to Swarga. He was turned back from the gates because what he was carrying, despite all its divine powers, was still a human body part, grossly lacking sanctity to enter the heavens.’

‘Did he then dig deep and push it into patala, the underworld?’ asked Vasu.

‘He wouldn’t be so foolish. If the demons of the underworld found it, they would let hell break loose on heavens and snatch away Indra’s throne as the king of gods.’

It only meant that the Kavach-Kundal was hidden somewhere on earth, known only to Indra. The secret location has remained a matter of speculation in all the worlds: the world of gods, of humans, of rakshasas, of gandharvas, of pitris. Indra has taken every measure to keep his secret, even from gods, forever protective of his throne that he is. He has even dispelled thoughts of it from his consciousness lest someone should read his mind.

‘But why do we need to find it now, Mahapurush? Let it rest where it lies.’

That was just the kind of question I expected from a rational, reasoning mind. Vasu should be right in his thinking. Why disturb the potent armament that has been lying peacefully for so many millennia? But he lacked the ability to foresee the future. The human world was nearing self-destruction. Weapons no less in potency than the Brahmastra proliferated in the hands of unwise men. Such weapons were only being deterred by other such weapons. In my time, these weapons remained with the gods and only the deserving, who had earned the boon, could invoke them for one-time use, after which the weapons returned to the gods.

I shuddered to think of the consequences if the Kavach-Kundal came into the hands of a madman, who also possessed those modern deadly weapons. He could turn himself into a singular anti-god and rule the world.

‘It’s somewhere here on earth. We need to find it somehow before someone else finds it,’ I said. More than me, Vasu was plunged into my world of intrigue. At the mention of my super-powerful armour, he made it his life’s purpose to fetch it for me.

***

‘Where do we start our search?’ asked Vasu, when we met again after a couple of weeks. He had taken leave of his wife and child, and donning a backpack on his shoulders he was raring set off on a hunt.

I was as clueless as him on where to begin. But I needed to tell him what I had told him many times earlier. He would have to fulfil this task by himself. I was only there to guide him when he needed me.

‘Mahapurush, it’s your mission, not mine. You need to find your Kavach-Kundal.’ When Vasu felt strongly about achieving something, he used forceful words like ‘mission’.

‘It’s true, I want to find it, but I don’t need it. I am only keen that it does not fall into the hands of those madmen, forever on a warpath seeking world domination. You might find better use for it. You need to keep it safe. It will be your Kavach-Kundal then.’

Vasu didn’t think he would need it either, but for the sake of his idol he decided to take up the mission. My Kavach-Kundal, he thought of it with sarcastic misgiving, and there is no trace of it. I was quick to catch his thought wave. ‘Say, you are not keen and we can drop this search.’

‘Sorry Mahapurush, I am keen. But why do you insist that you will not be part of this mission?’

‘I am from the pitri-world, the world of forefathers,’ I explained. ‘Through my actions, I cannot effect any change in your world. Only the living or gods may cause changes through their actions. Even gods do their bidding through human hands, until a stage comes warranting their divine intervention.’

Vasu became thoughtful. If he delayed, perhaps a rogue would find the Kavach-Kundal and then god’s intervention would become necessary. I cheered him saying, ‘Stop being so morose, Vasu. I’ll of-course be with you to guide you, always.’

‘We are back to where we had started. Where do we start from?’ Vasu repeated his earlier question.

‘I have no idea,’ I said. ‘The world has changed so much, I can barely find my way.’ Indeed, the modern world seemed like catacombs of concrete that were linked by machines dashing from one end to another, incessantly. Over time, hills had been flattened, rivers rerouted, boundaries of kingdoms had changed and some had even disappeared. In such an energetic milieu, I, hailing from an ancient age, stood little chance of finding anything. That was one reason why I wanted a present day man like Vasu to take up the search. I expressed my inability to proceed in any direction, given the present dynamic set up.

‘I wish you had lived through all these ages. Then you would remember every path, nook and corner, every hill and river, every high rise and tunnel as and when they appeared and disappeared.’

I pondered over Vasu’s words. In reality, I was destined to be Mrutyunjay, Conqueror of Death, but with the loss of my Kavach-Kundal, my destiny too changed. With that prompt, however, I recalled there were other Chiranjeevis, Immortals.

‘Vasu, you got it right. There are people who have lived through my time and are living until now. You got to find one of them, first.’

Vasu slighted himself for not thinking of the obvious earlier. He knew of the Immortals, nine of them; he recounted their names with some effort. In all probabilities, they would have some clue about the hidden armour. But we were not any closer to a solution than we were earlier. The dwellings of the Chiranjeevis were just as secretive as the hiding place of the armour. But Vasu considered I could locate an Immortal more easily than the Kavach-Kundal. ‘You’ll surely know some of them, and where they live now?’ he asked me.

‘Evidently, I know Ashwatthama, a good friend of mine, but he is living an accursed life. But I will pin my hopes on Parashurama, my revered guru. Not only he was my teacher, but he is also a learned sage. He will not disappoint you, that is, if he has a clue.’

‘Let’s go and call on Parashurama.’ Vasu talked as if the guru lived like a present day man in some country house with his name board on it. The last I knew of him was when he lived in the mountainous forests of Mahendragiri. I knew exactly where this hill was, unless it too had been flattened, and the sage had moved to another hill.

‘Vasu, go to Mahendragiri,’ I instructed. ‘I’ll be there.’ I held up my conch shell, tapped at its orifice, put it to my lips and blew. That was indication enough for Vasu to get started on his ‘mission’. I deliberately faded away along with the diminishing sound of my conch.

***