westland ltd the revenge of kaivalya sumana khan is a ...€¦ · kilometres a day without breaking...

westland ltdTHE REVENGE OF KAIVALYA

Sumana Khan is a student, blogger and author. She currently lives inthe UK, where she is pursuing her MLitt in Creative Writing and canbe found online at kaapizone.blogspot.in

THE REVENGE OF

KAIVALYA

Sumana Khan

For Amma

Om Tryambakam YajamaheSugandhim Pushtivardhanam

Urvarukamiva BandhananMrityor Mukshiya Mamrtat

—Maha Mrityunjaya Mantra,Rig Veda

1

Monsoon in the Western Ghats is brutal yet fascinating. The broodingmountain ranges stand stoically behind grey veils of relentlessdownpour. In the sparse intervals when the downpour turns into adrizzle, one can catch glimpses of distant blue-green rainforestsamidst swirling mists, like gigantic jades emerging from a churning,foaming ocean.

If you are an urban dweller and happen to be on the road in theghats during monsoon, you must get out of your car for a once-in-a-lifetime experience. In a matter of seconds, you’ll be soaked to yourbones. All around you, the forest will seem liquid, as streams andwaterfalls gush out on to the road. Now and then, you’ll hear thebark of spotted deer, or the cry of langoors. Amidst the trill of amillion insects, you’ll hear bullfrogs and the shrill chirping of birdsnever seen or heard before. If you are lucky, you might even hear thesnort of a bison, or short trumpet bursts from an elephant herd. Butbehind this monsoon symphony, you will also hear a deep silencethat permeates your soul.

All this is over in about 40 seconds. By then, you feel the leecheson your skin. The raindrops begin to hurt. Your teeth start tochatter. You haul your ass back to your car to dig out the paracetamoland pluck out the leeches.

Kencha had seen innumerable tourists do this. Each time hewould shake his head and laugh at the silly city-slickers. He wouldusually watch them from within the forest, where he hunted forsmall animals, and searched for the moulted skin of king cobras.Kencha was a descendent of the Irula tribe, and had spent every dayof his life in the forests of the Western Ghats, living in a mud hut inKarnataka’s Bisle village. He was one of the few people who knew

• SUMANA KHAN •2

the Bisle forest range and the forests spanning Kukke Subramanyaand Sakleshpura like the back of his palm. He could easily trek for 50kilometres a day without breaking into a sweat. He could interpretevery bird call, every deer bark, and even monkey chatter. In fact,Kencha could even guess which animal was nearby by listening tothe sound of twigs breaking beneath a hoof or a paw! Most times,Kencha ventured into the forest to collect wood, or to hunt rabbitsand squirrels. Once his business was done, he would sit perched on atree, just gazing around, smiling to himself, feeling like the lord ofthe jungle.

On a particularly rainy day in 2004, Kencha had ventured deeperinto the forest, in search of a big kill. He figured from the way it wasraining that it would be impossible to get into the forest, so he had tomake sure there was enough food to last for at least four days. Hedecided a wild boar would be the ideal choice.

Deep within the forest, it was twilight-dark. The ground wasmoist because of the rain, but not wet. The leaves were rotting anddispersed a loamy smell. Kencha moved as silently and swiftly as aleopard. There could be a wild tusker two feet away from his eyes,but he would not be able to see it. But he would be able to smell itthe same way he would be able to smell a rotting kill a kilometreaway. Just as he spotted the ideal place to wait for his prey, he hearda subtle noise. Kencha stood still, hidden behind dense bushes.There were the usual forest noises; buzzing, trilling, chirping insects,bird calls, the steady PLOCK PLOCK PLOCK of water falling offleaves and hitting puddles in the soil. Kencha lifted his face andsniffed the air like a wolf. There was a sweetish scent. The kind ofscent that wafted from citywallahs and foreign tourists. Perfume.Cologne. Aftershave.

There! The same noise. Kencha closed his eyes. In his mind, hecould see shoes touching the ground softly and carefully. In fact, hecould hear the light friction of fabric against the foliage. He openedhis eyes. There were other humans here. Kencha decided to watchthem.

There were two of them. In the dim light within the forest,Kencha could make out they were foreigners – white people. The tall

3• THE REVENGE OF KAIVALYA •

one was carrying a huge video camera. He had short spiky hair andwore black jeans. His shirt was tied around his waist, and he wore ayellow vest. The shorter one carried a heavy backpack and appearedstouter than the tall one. He had long hair that reached his shouldersand seemed to be golden in colour, like that of the dolls Kencha hadseen at the village fair. He was dressed like the tall one, except that hewore a black vest.Kencha was impressed. Despite the weight theywere carrying, they were noiseless. But their scent was alien in theforest and this exposed them.

Suddenly, Kencha heard a whistle. He knew what it was. His eyesdarted around, trying to locate the source of the noise. The twoforeigners carried on. Kencha was surprised. The whistle was loudenough to send every rat, rabbit, frog and even snake scamperingaway for dear life. These two white men seemed to have ignored thewhistle. Or, perhaps they did not know what made that whistlingnoise.

The whistle came again. This time, it sounded like steam being letoff by ten pressure cookers simultaneously. It had now caught theattention of the white people. They stopped abruptly and listened.

Kencha saw it first. A king cobra. His keen eyes spotted a cobranest about three feet behind the spot where the white men stood –too close. Kencha’s heart pounded. It was a female king cobra,guarding her nest. The two white men were in deep, deep shit. Quiteobviously, Mama Cobra saw them as a threat. She hated their smelland as far as she was concerned, they had trampled along like a herdof buffalos. She had assessed the situation and had decided to attack.She had reared up six feet from the ground and had spread herhood, tongue flicking in and out. She hissed again and struck withunbelievable speed.

The short one, Steve McHill, was still gaping, trying to locate thesource of the whistling. He had never heard anything like thisbefore. His backpack bore the brunt of Mama Cobra’s fury. DanielSage, the tall one, swung around in the direction of the whoompnoise. He almost lost his balance because of the bulky video cameraon his shoulder. Mama Cobra found her mark this time. She struckDaniel on his right thigh, and in a fraction of a second, reared backto strike again.


Daniel stood rooted to the spot. He could not take his eyes off theking cobra. He seemed hypnotised by the swaying hood, the openfangs, and the ivory-cream underside of the snake that was nowexposed. The cobra seemed to have an eyeball-to-eyeball contactwith him. Daniel felt the snake was imprinting his face in its memory.‘I wonder if it is black or olive green on the other side,’ Danielthought irrationally. Just then, he felt a powerful grip around hiswaist, and he was pulled away.

The instant the snake had struck Steve’s backpack, Kencha hadleapt out of the bushes and had shoved Steve. Steve went sprawlingten feet away. By then, the snake had already struck Daniel. Kenchahad then dragged Daniel away with all his strength, before the kingcobra could strike again. Kencha knew the snake would not follow.She would never leave the nest with her eggs unguarded. But hehoped her mate was not around. After all, king cobras are the onlysnakes that build nests for laying eggs. Generally, while the femalebuilds the nest and incubates the eggs, the male hangs around in theterritory. Together, they form a deadly team when it comes toprotecting the nest.

2

Once they were safely away, Kencha opened a cloth pouch tiedaround his waist. He took out a one-litre plastic bottle and somematches, also removing a hatchet which hung below his pouch. Assoon as he opened the bottle, a strong fermented smell rose up.Country arrack or toddy. He took a swig, and poured the restaround them in a circle. He lit the circle – he did not want to besurprised by the cobra’s mate. Considering the wet ground and not-so-dry twigs, it wasn’t much of a fire. But the alcohol would keep itgoing for a while, and the smoke and smell would keep the cobra’smate away. Hell, the smell of the burning arrack would keep Yama,the Lord of Death, himself away for a while.

He made Daniel sit down against a tree, with his legs spreadstraight in front of him. With his sharp hatchet, Kencha quickly cutstout branches from the surrounding foliage. He then sat next to


Daniel and signed that he should remove his jeans. Kencha had toexamine the wound. In all probability, Daniel would be dead in thenext one hour, if envenomation had set in.

Steve helped Daniel take off his jeans, without moving him toomuch. Daniel’s eyes were wide with terror. Steve felt sick. They bothknew Daniel had no time. Their only hope was this strange man whohad saved them. Steve turned to see that Kencha seemed to becollecting something from the earth. He sat next to Daniel andwatched Kencha at work.

Kencha was almost naked, save for a short piece of yellowed clotharound his waist, in the kacche style, just about covering his thighs. Aworn-out belt around this cloth seemed to keep it in place, and alsoserved as a holder for the cloth pouch and the hatchet. Steve noticedKencha was barefoot too. Barefoot in this forest? Incredible! After allthis was leech and king cobra territory. Kencha was a short man, inhis early 30s, about five feet tall, lean, wiry and all muscles. Helooked like a guy who could kill tigers with his bare hands. Hisebony body glistened with sweat, and in the firelight he looked likean exotic rosewood sculpture. He had an oval face, a stub of a noseand small, crinkly, alert eyes. He had stubble on his head as if he hadshaved it recently.

Kencha now bent down to check the snake bite. There were twopuncture marks where the fangs had pierced the skin, with a slightswelling around them, an angry red against Daniel’s pale skin. Kenchafirst secured a splint for Daniel’s leg, so that it remained immobile.He then wound creepers snugly from about four inches above thewound all the way up to Daniel’s chest. Next, he wound them fromfour inches below the wound, all the way to his toes. In the exposedarea around the wound, Kencha then arranged some small, blacktwigs on Daniel’s skin. Daniel felt ant bites when Kencha placed thetwigs. When he realized what those twigs were, his eyes bulged withdisgust. Kencha had placed leeches around the wound.

‘Is this some pre-funeral ritual?’ Daniel looked at Steve.‘Stop being a smart-ass. This guy knows what he’s doing. And

what’s with the Donald Duck legs anyway?’Kencha smiled and made signs for Steve to keep talking to Daniel.


In a matter of fifteen minutes, Kencha had fashioned a stretcherusing sturdy creepers and branches. They placed Daniel on thestretcher in a seated position and stomped out the smouldering fireKencha had built around them.

Before lifting the stretcher, Kencha did something strange. Hestarted singing, what seemed to be a folk song. He gestured forDaniel to clap in rhythm to the song. Kencha led them out of theforest through a different route. Daniel tried to remember someprayers he’s been taught as a child. He couldn’t recollect any. Hecried. But he clapped anyway.

3

Steve heaved a sigh of relief when they emerged from the forest.They had actually hit National Highway 48, just behind a local teastall near Bisle village. The tea stall was a regular stop for mostpeople driving on the highway. As usual, there was a crowd, mostlymen in woollen mufflers and monkey caps to protect them from thecold mists which drew in frequently. Tourists on their way to KukkeSubramanya and beyond were stretching themselves and enjoyingsteaming cups of tea and coffee.

When the crowd saw the strange three-man procession, theyimmediately surrounded them. Kencha and Steve placed the stretcheron the ground. Kencha sat on his haunches and examined Daniel’sface. He slapped Daniel rapidly a couple of times.

‘What the fuck man?’ Daniel cried.Kencha grinned. The man would live. There was no drowsiness,

no vomiting and his skin had not turned grey. He checked thewound. Only one leech still stuck on. The rest had fallen off. Theswelling was still there, but there was no foul smell emanating fromthe wound. Kencha gave Daniel an affectionate pat and turnedaround to ask for a taxi. By then, Steve was waving wads of notes,crying, ‘Hospital, Hospital!’

Kencha stopped him, and spoke rapidly to one of the drivers inKannada. The driver nodded. He had a Tata Sumo. He would takethem to the Forest Officer’s quarters. Kencha knew that the Forest


Officer sahebru could help. Besides, antivenin was readily availablein the clinic attached to the officer’s quarters. More importantly, itwas just a fifteen-minute drive away.

Steve gratefully shoved a wad of notes into the driver’s hands butincredibly, the driver refused the money. He was saving someone’slife, and would not be paid for the good deed. Steve did not knowhow to respond to this kindness – he was too overwhelmed.

Daniel survived. The instant the snake had struck, Daniel had losthis balance, so he had not been injected with a full dose of thevenom. Besides, the thick jeans (unwashed…possibly for twentyyears) had also helped. Steve examined the jeans and declared thatthe snake might be dead. Yet, all said and done, the bite could havebeen fatal, if not for Kencha. The clapping had kept Daniel alert, andhad steadied his heartbeat; at least that’s what Daniel believed. Thedoctors had gently laughed at the idea. They said the only reasonDaniel had survived was because of the low-level dose of the venom.And yes, certain facts like Daniel being calm probably helped. Butwhat Kencha had done was not standard, and not a recognised first-aid remedy – the doctors had disapproved. Who the fuck cared? Asfar as Daniel and Steve were concerned, Kencha was a hero. He hadput his own safety aside and helped them.

Steve and Daniel did not want to belittle Kencha’s heroic act bythrowing money into his hands. They wanted to repay him by givinghim a better quality of life. They worked for a TV channelandKencha was appointed as an official guide for it. Over the nextcouple of years, Kencha helped them film documentaries that broughtout the beauty of the exotic Western Ghats of India.

Kencha was ecstatic. Although he loved the forests, it was a hardlife. It was a day-to-day existence, and a hand-to-mouth one at that.This job meant Kencha got a house with a concrete roof and cementwalls. It also meant he could send his four children to school, so thatthey grew up to be like that Forest Officer sahebru. He sacrificed fivegoats to the Goddess of the forest for this fortunate turn of events.The future looked as bright as ever.


4

Six months after the king cobra incident, Kencha was a changedman. He could communicate in basic English, and could also usespecific research applications on a computer. He had become an aceshooter; a useful skill for shooting tranquiliser darts.

Steve and Daniel had returned to the USA. Their king cobratracking project had been approved, and budgets were being finalised.Also, they needed to ship a lot of equipment to Kencha, so that hecould radio-tag as many snakes as possible before they joined him.

Snakes, especially king cobras are extremely elusive reptiles. Theyare loners, and are very territorial. Initially, they debated using radiotelemetry to track the snakes. This involved implanting thesnake with a radio transmitter, which meant capturing a snake,bringing it to a base station lab where the implantation could bedone, and releasing it back to the wild. They were not very sureabout the implications of this method – especially for a territorialcreature. So,they had turned to a non-intrusive method of trackingthe snakes.

Kencha was given a slick hand gun which was light and easy tocarry around. It was meant for shooting tiny tranquillizer darts intosmall, yet dangerous animals, especially poisonous reptiles. Thegun, aptly named Zapper, was being field tested, and was not yetlaunched in the market. Just like a real gun, Zapper had a barrel,about four inches long. But unlike a real gun, it did not have atrigger. Instead it had two large buttons, a blue one and a red one, oneither sides of the butt. The entire mechanism was based on apowerful, highly coiled spring action. The tranquilliser dart had tobe placed in the barrel in the correct position. On pressing the bluebutton on the side of the butt, a small telescopic view would ease up.The lens was suitable for night vision; a useful utility when one isdeep inside a forest. The red button was the trigger. On pressing thisbutton, a mechanism would release a series of highly coiled springs,which would in turn, would push the dart forward with great velocity.This prototype of Zapper was useful for ‘shooting’ a ‘subject’ at atwenty feet range.


Kencha was also given a whole bunch of small radio transmitters,which were weather-proof. Again, these were developed by CreativeInfinity. The transmitters looked like small button-shaped steelbullets. One side of the button was smeared with a super adhesivewhich was water resistant and could stick to any surface under thesun. This, too, was a prototype. The adhesive side was covered witha chemically-treated peel-off paper. All Kencha had to do, wheneverhe spotted a king cobra, was to shoot the tranquilizer, and follow thesnake. When it zonked out, he had to stick the transmitter on theupper side of the snake’s body, preferably a little beneath the hood.In the lab trials, the adhesive did not have any adverse effect on thesnake’s scales, and the transmitter did not come off unstuck whenthe snake came in contact with water, or other surfaces.

The transmitters could get activated only through a receiver device.The receiver was a hand-held device, loaded with a softwareapplication which came with a graphical user interface. It could pickup the radio transmitter signals within a radius of about 30 meters,and point the user in the direction of transmission. The radiotransmitters sent out signals at constant intervals to the receiver.The receiver would then decode these signals in the form ofcoordinates. Also, each transmitter had a unique ID, and thus, eachradio-enabled snake could be identified individually.

At the end of the day, Kencha would feed the coordinates into ahigh-end computer in the forest officer Dhruv Kaveriappa’s home-office. A map application running on the computer would read thecoordinates, and draw a corresponding track on a highly detailedmap of the forest, thus marking the path of the king cobra!

Of course, this manual method of tracking had its own pitfalls.Overnight, when Kencha would not be tracking, the cobra wouldhave moved further, and it was left to Kencha’s skill to track thesnake down again next morning, based on the last coordinates of theprevious day. But this was only for a couple of weeks. Once Steveand Daniel joined Kencha, they would be camping in the forest.

December 26, 2004

5

Kencha’s job started in December itself. January usually being thecobra mating season, they figured Kencha should tag at least acouple of snakes by then. They particularly wanted to film theprocess of how a female cobra selects a spot for a nest, and how shebuilds it. Every day, Kencha would be in the forest by six a.m. Itwould still be dark, and shrouded in mist, reducing visibility to zero.But Kencha loved this part of the day best; he could see through hisnose, skin and ears. Within the first week itself he had managed toradio-tag three king cobras, which was a huge achievement. Everyonewas thrilled and amazed with Kencha’s tracking abilities and startedcalling him the human GPS.

On 26th December, Kencha set out really early into the forest, atfive a.m. He was particularly interested in a particular female kingcobra, as he knew she was searching for the right place to build hernest. He wished Daniel and Steve were here; then they could haveshot the entire sequence of events. By seven he had reached the spotdeep, deep within the forest where he had seen the female king cobrathe previous evening. It was a glorious winter morning, the kindwhere the sky is a perfect blue and the clouds are pearly-whitecotton fluff. Inside the forest, the sunlight filtered through the trees,but got trapped amidst the canopies and barely managed to hit theground in places, creating a shadow grid. Kencha had to moveslowly, peering at every shadow, and relying on his exceptionalolfactory and hearing senses. Besides, this deep in the forest, it wasperpetually misty and thus, the shadows became magnified andhazy in the sunlight.


By 7:30 a.m., Kencha reached a clearing of sorts. He had beenmoving west, and he guessed he must have entered the KukkeSubramanya forest range. There were no trees or thick vegetationhere, just grass, dotted with vermilion wild flowers. The clearing wasalmost circular, brightly lit by the winter sun, with several tallboulders in the middle. Kencha smiled to himself. ‘Perfect spot forsnakes to sunbathe,’ he thought. He climbed a nearby tree andstraddled a branch ten feet above the ground and settled downto wait.

Kencha dozed off, but in a couple of minutes, he woke up with astart. Mist had started swirling into the clearing. He checked thetime on the hand-held device – 7:49 a.m. At that instant, thousandsof kilometres away, unknown to him, and to most of the world, a 9.3magnitude earthquake shook the belly of the Indian Ocean, triggeringa series of tsunami waves that would devour hundreds of thousandsof people in a matter of three hours.

In the forest, something was amiss; something felt wrong. Kenchalooked around. For some inexplicable reason, his flesh crawled. Nota leaf trembled. He could not spot a single monkey, bird or even aninsect moving anywhere around him. There was just a deathlystillness, an eerie silence. ‘Silence this early in the morning in theforest? – impossible,’ he thought. That was when Kencha smeltsomething burning. He looked around again. There was no sign ofsmoke anywhere. The smell stuck at the back of his tongue and grewstronger by the minute. Kencha broke into a cold sweat. An irrationalfear gripped him. His brain had registered the smell. He closed hiseyes to recollect. When one of the village elders had died, they hadcremated the body at the outskirts of the village. The smell ofburning human flesh had made Kencha throw up. The same smellenveloped him now. Kencha decided to investigate. Just then, amovement amongst the boulders caught his eye.

He peered through the branches. The mist had swirled in somemore, blurring the outlines of the boulders. His mouth went dry. Itlooked like someone was sitting on top of one of the boulders. Itseemed to be a woman, with her back facing him. She was sittingwith her legs folded to a side, and she was leaning on one of her


hands. ‘It is the shadows,’ Kencha thought. He rubbed his eyes. Bythen, his view was blotted out by mist. Whatever it was that he hadseen did not seem to be a solid form. It seemed more like a blurredoutline. Fear gripped Kencha’s heart like a pair of pincers.

6

Kencha slid down the tree silently. He unsheathed his hatchet, andproceeded slowly towards the clearing. All his senses were on red-alert. While one part of him wanted to just flee the place, anotherpart, which had more of a primal hunting instinct, wanted him to goahead and investigate. The burning smell grew stronger as he enteredthe clearing. Perhaps something was burning between the boulders.But there was no crackling sound of flames or any sign of smoke.

Kencha decided to remain at the periphery of the clearing. Hatchetgrasped tightly with raised hands, his muscles taut with tension,Kencha proceeded to circle the clearing cautiously. Although thesun shone brightly on this spot, it felt abnormally cold. As Kenchareached the halfway mark of the circle, he spotted the shadow againfor a fraction of a second. He stood still to watch, but a cloud passed,filtering the sunlight, and the shadow disappeared. Kencha wasrelieved. It was indeed simply shadows. He completed a full circle,and cautiously started towards the boulders.

With every step he took, the smell of burning human flesh grewall pervading, making him retch. He reached the boulders. Therewere narrow passageways between them and the space was notenough for an adult to navigate. Yet, it was clear that this was theplace from where the foul smell emanated. With one hand, Kenchacovered his mouth and nose, while the other still held the hatchet inposition. He started circling the boulders, trying to peer throughevery narrow crevice and passageway.

Suddenly he thought he saw something flit between the rocks.Again, he was unsure if it was the mist and shadows. He decided totry and climb the tallest boulder and then look down into thecrevices. He left his hatchet at the foot of the boulder and climbedeasily, like a monkey. As he pulled himself atop the ten-foot high


boulder, the mist drew in tightly, making him shiver. Then, in aninstant, the mist cleared and the sun shone brightly.

The shadow was sitting in the same position as he had seen earlier.It was on the next boulder, which was about six feet tall. Kencha’sblood froze. He had not imagined the shadow after all. It was atranslucent outline of a human form. Kencha stood rooted as theshadow turned to face him. Kencha was hypnotized by the movement– the face turning and tilting upwards to look at him; loose, longhair, flapping across the shoulders as the head turned. He could stillsee through it, even though he could also make out the outline of theface. But what completely paralysed him were the eyes. They wereghastly, demonic eyes which began to glow with a dazzling whitelight. Kencha opened his mouth to scream, but his voice never cameout. He lost his balance and fell from the boulder. He did not feelany pain, since his heart had stopped beating before he hit theground and broke his neck.

7

Deep within the Western Ghats, in the densest area, a small opening onthe ground is an entrance to a vast underground riverine cave system.In fact, even before the river Hemavathi spews out of the earth nearBallala Rayana Durga in Karnataka, she flows placidly in the belly ofthese ancient mountain ranges. No humans have ever set foot this farinto the forests. No curious animal has ever fallen into the opening,accidentally or otherwise. If one were to stumble across this opening, thesound of the wind trapped in the cave caressing the hidden Hemavathiwould be eerie enough to cause a heart attack.

The opening is no bigger than a rabbit hole. The underground pathfrom the opening is a tunnel that runs for about two kilometres into thebelly of the Western Ghats. About 200 metres from the surface, thetunnel suddenly widens to reveal a vast, subterranean plain. Althoughthere is no sunlight at this depth, there is a warm glow from some othersource of light, illuminating the entire plain. The usual stalactites andstalagmites associated with an underground cave are missing here. Theplain does not seem to have a roof, or rather; the roof is so high that it is


swallowed by darkness. Instead, the walls surrounding the plain seemto be made of a smooth black stone. Traditional Hindu Brahminswould immediately recognise this stone as the saligrama shila. The softlight illuminates glittering gold striations and sparkling precious stonesthat are embedded in the smooth black wall.

Lush green grass covers the plain, like an emerald carpet. In themiddle of the plain, nearly a kilometre wide, the Hemavathi is like amirror. Now and then, a whisper of wind caresses her surface, leavinglight ripples in its wake. Flowers that are never seen on the surface of theearth bloom on Hemavathi’s banks and gently sway in the mysteriouswind that is as rhythmic as breath. The wind carries the fragrance ofthe flowers, much sweeter than that of jaaji, mallige or sampige andspreads it across the plain. Enveloping the fragrance of the flowers, thereis the all-permeating, soothing fragrance of bhasma, or the sacred ash.Pebbles smoothened for centuries by Hemavathi lie scattered on herbanks, amidst the grass and the flowers. They are all shaped like thelinga.

At the far end of the plain, the grass-covered ground rises to form aplatform. Unusually, a shimmering mist covers this area, like a gossamercurtain drawn in front of the platform. Behind the mist, a Being can beperceived, and this Being seems to be the source of the light. He is seatedin the padmasana posture. Through the translucent mist-curtain, onecan see an outline of powerful hands resting lightly on His lap, tumblingmatted hair with a jate tied at the crown of His head, and a cobra coiledaround His neck. As the mist undulates, flashes of bluish skin, a verticalthird eye on the forehead, leopard skin around the waist, and thetrishul are revealed and hidden in turns

At the moment when Kencha fell to his death, this Being’s meditationwas disturbed. He opened His eyes ever so lightly. The mist swirledaside to reveal His face, as calm as the deepest river, terrible to beholdfor the sinner, but a source of eternal happiness for the believer.

Millennia have rolled by, and He has never left this abode. He hasalways answered to His devotees through various forms. But now, anegative force threatens to create an imbalance in pre-destined events.It is a force filled with anger and hatred; a force which has refused tosurrender to His Divine Love. He must now vanquish and bring this


force into His fold. And so, for the first time in thousands and thousandsof years, this Being will emerge on the land.

But even He, The Destroyer in the Holy Trinity, the mighty LordShiva, has to wait for the right time.

8

Hours after Kencha fell to his death, Steve and Daniel reached theBisle forest officer’s guest house. New York had been snowed in andtheir flight out of J.F.K. airport had been delayed by eight hours.They had stopped for a night in Bengaluru to recover from jet lag,before taking the road to Bisle. It had taken almost three hours justto get out of Bengaluru, because of a traffic pile-up near Nelamangala.If they had reached Bisle on time, they would have been out therewith Kencha, filming the cobras.

The guest house was a three-bedroom duplex bungalow, built ofstone and wood. A perimeter of about thirty feet was cleared aroundthe bungalow, after which the forest started thickly and abruptly.Sometimes, deer and bison came out of the forest, and wanderednear the bungalow. Steve and Daniel were pleased to see clean, newsheets on the beds, and the bathrooms were mint-fresh. They bothtook the rooms on the upper deck and had a much-needed showerand shave. By then, the forest officer for the Hassan division, DhruvKaveriappa, had sent them piping hot food through his driver,Shivanna, in a jeep. Steve and Daniel had stayed at Dhruv’s homeback in June, during the ‘snake-bite saga’, as Steve had named it.They had instantly warmed up to Dhruv’s genial nature and hisunwavering hospitality, and before long, the three of them becamegreat friends.

‘You eat out? Or you eat in?’ Shivanna asked with a huge grinrevealing tobacco-stained teeth. Shivanna’s voice was surprisinglysoft, almost melodious when compared to his heavy set frame. At55, he looked a decade younger, with his top physique. His shouldersseemed as wide as a football goal-post. Despite being heavy set, hewas not flabby. He looked as solid as a brick wall. Steve got a feelingthat if one were to literally run into a stationary Shivanna, one

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