The Secret of the Nagas

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Authors: Amish Tripathi
Tags: Fiction, India, Shiva (Hindu Deity), Mythology; Indic
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tribals also?’
    The Naga opened his eyes and smiled. He whispered weakly, ‘No, Your Highness.’
    ‘Then in the name of the Parmatma, why are you risking your own life to save one of the forest people? Why are you causing me so much grief? Don’t I have enough on my plate already?’
    ‘Forgive me, Mausi, but haven’t I already taken care of your biggest source of tension?’
    ‘Yes, you have. And that is the only reason why I have come all this way for you. You have earned the devotion of all the Nagas. But your karma is still not complete. There are many things you need to do. And stopping some royal brat from what you believe is wrong does not figure high on that list. This country is full of repulsive royals who abuse their people. Are we going to fight every single one?’
    ‘It is not that simple, Mausi.’
    ‘Yes, it is. The Magadh prince was doing something wrong. But it is not your duty to stop every person who does something wrong. You are not Lord Rudra.’
    ‘He was trying to kidnap a boy for a bull race.’
    The Queen sighed. ‘It happens all over. It happens to thousands of children. This bull fighting is an addictive disease. How many will you stop?’
    ‘But he didn’t just stop there,’ whispered the Naga. ‘He was about to kill the boy’s mother, because she was trying to protect her child.’
    The Queen stiffened. Quick anger rose within her.
    ‘There aren’t too many mothers like this,’ whispered the Naga with rare emotion. ‘They deserve protection.’
    ‘Enough! How many times have I told you to forget this?’
    The Queen rapidly put her mask back on her face and stormed out. Her men kept their heads bowed, terrified of her fearsome rage. ‘Karkotak!’
    ‘Yes, my lady.’
    ‘We leave within the hour. We’re going home. Make preparations.’
    The Lord of the People was in no position to travel. Karkotak knew that. ‘But, Your Highness...’
    His words were cut short by a petrifying glare from the Queen.

     
    It was just a little over three weeks when Shiva’s convoy was closing in on Kashi , the city where the supreme light shines . The city had been settled along a voluptuous bend of the holy Ganga river as it took a leisurely northwards meander before flowing East again. If looked at from the sky, this meander gave the impression of a crescent moon, incidentally the royal insignia of the Chandravanshis. Therefore, in the eyes of the Swadweepans, Kashi was the most natural Chandravanshi city.
    Kashi also had its own superstition. The city had been built only along the western banks of the river meander, leaving its eastern banks bare. It was believed that whoever built a house on the eastern side at Kashi would suffer a terrible fate. The royal family of Kashi had therefore bought all the land to the East, ensuring that nobody, even by mistake, would suffer the wrath of the gods.
    As Shiva’s ship was moving towards the legendary Assi Ghat or Port of Eighty , one of the main docking points of this thriving city, the crowd on the steps started beating their drums for the ceremonial welcome aarti.
    ‘It’s a beautiful city,’ whispered Sati, running her hand over her protruding belly.
    Shiva looked at her and smiled, taking her hand, kissing it gently and holding it close to his chest. ‘For some reason, it feels like home. This is where our child should be born.’
    Sati smiled back. ‘Yes. This shall be the place.’
    Even from afar, Bhagirath could make out the countenance of many Ayodhya nobles jostling with the Kashi aristocracy, striving to raise their welcome lamps while berating their aides to hold their family pennants higher. They wanted the Mahadev to notice and favour them. But the Neelkanth noticed something more unusual.
    ‘Bhagirath,’ said Shiva, turning to his left, ‘this city has no fortifications. Why in the name of the Holy Lake do they have no protection?’
    ‘Oh! That’s a long story, My Lord,’ said Bhagirath.
    ‘I have all the time in

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