Page 18 of The Legend of Meneka
“I amrefusingpeople,” Kaushika interrupts, irritated. In my mind’s eye, I can almost see the intensity of his eyes, the frown crinkling his brows. “Fewer will stay after the Initiation Ceremony. I will only allow the ones who are most devoted to the path, the ones who truly know their own souls, to train with me. Agastya—you yourself taught me not to deny seekers of the truth. That this knowledge is meant for everybody. Surely you would not ask me to stop?”
“I also taught you restraint. Are you exercising that choice, my son?”
“To be a sage is to be free. This ismyhermitage. I must govern it in the way I see fit, precisely like every sage does with their own school. Surely the others cannot object to that?”
“Do you think Vashishta will not?” Agastya asks.
“Vashishta has always hated me,” Kaushika snaps. “Before I came to you to train me, I went to him too, but he humiliated me, berating my youth and arrogance, claiming I was drunk with power. He would deny me my place as a sage despite my tapasya, despite what I have done for the knowledge of mantras.”
“He values emotional control,” the older man replies mildly. “I would ask if your loss of temper has held you back.”
A silence breathes with those words. I imagine the passage of emotions on Kaushika’s face, frustration and guilt and resignation.Agastya and Vashishta, I note. Two of the most powerful rishis in the mortal realm. Songs are sung in Amaravati of Indra treating with them, even inviting them to swarga for conferences and advice. Mortals though the two sages are, they are hundreds of years old. They know the lord intimately, part friends, part rivals. What do they make of Kaushika’s irreverence to him? Do they even know of it?
“Forgive me, guruji,” Kaushika says formally. “I did not intend to be disrespectful.”
“You are powerful, Kaushika. No one can deny you your statusas a rishi. Yet in accepting you as one of them, the sages sought to bring you under control. There is an understanding that you will live by their dictates.” Agastya sighs, and I almost feel the ripple of air. “Vashishta wants to know if Shiva has seen fit to bless your hermitage. It is the one thing he returns to, always quoting Shiva’s absence as an indication of your brazenness. Has the Lord come yet?”
My pulse pounds in my throat, and I have to forcibly remind myself not to breathe out and dispel bubbles. I hold myself very still, my hair swirling around me.
“No,” Kaushika says.
Disappointment bleeds from his voice, but all I feel is a mingled sense of horror and relief. Kaushika aims to call Shiva himself to the hermitage, and Shiva has not listened so far, but what if he relents? What would happen to Indra and Amaravati if Kaushika ekes out a boon from the Lord ofDestruction? Shiva is the Innocent One, unaware and uncaring of the politics of the mortal and immortal realms. Should Kaushika ask him for weapons to take down Indra, he could grant Kaushika’s wish without realizing what he is doing. I recall the hymns practiced in the hermitage, mantras recited to empower sages, and those asking for his blessing to annihilate maya. What can occur with such powers unchecked? I shiver, and it is not merely because of the frigid lake.
“We are devoted,” Kaushika says, frustrated. “Iam devoted. The hermitage is a reflection of my own piety to Shiva. Why does the Lord not come?”
“Perhaps,” the other man says, “your disciples are not as devoted as you think.”
“Those who are not will leave soon enough,” Kaushika says darkly.
Coldness creeps into my bones. The impossibility of my mission tightens my throat. I swallow, trying to dislodge the knot of despair. The other sage speaks again, and I strain to listen.
“We have agreed you are a rishi, Kaushika,” he says. “However, allow me to offer you some wisdom. You are still bound by the pursuit of power. Your past hangs over you, and you seem unable to rise above it. You create karma, one action into another, but a true rishi breaks the karmic cycle like Shiva himself.”
“And I will,” Kaushika says forcefully. “You are right, guru, that my past still governs me, but you are wrong too. It is not for mindless power. I do it to satisfy a sacred promise, one I must see fulfilled. That Ineedto see fulfilled. What good am I if I cannot follow what I think is righteous? What good is my tapasya if I do not even keep my word?”
“Only you can decide that, son,” the guru replies mildly.
Kaushika grunts, and I remain still. The cold is so terrible that I am burning now with it. I ask for heat from Agni, lord of fire, but even as I pray, I know he will not answer this easily. Agni is tempestuous; he flickers in my mind, the way I saw him last in Indra’s throne room, his pointed face glinting with a sharp smile that never reached his eyes.
Kaushika speaks again, and his voice is softer. “What else do the sages require of me at the Mahasabha?”
“A justification for your meadow beyond the reasons of your vow. They will question you on it.”
Meadow?My ears perk, and I swim closer, trying to fight against the chill.
“They view it as an act of rebellion,” the guru continues. “You understand that is why they have called the Mahasabha, do you not? To make you answer for it? Your presentation of your students is only secondary.”
“My meadow is not for my benefit alone,” Kaushika replies. “It is meant to assist all of the mortal and immortal realms. Surely the sages see that the times are changing. I understand such an act is nottradition, that it has never been done before, but I do not pursue it as a challenge to any being. I do it to fulfill my existing karma. As sages, are we not meant to push the boundaries of knowledge?”
“Yes, but in righteous ways,” the guru says quietly. “The meadow is a magnificent display of magic, but Vashishta will not countenance it. The very thought of it infuriates him. It is true that sages push the boundaries of knowledge, but there is a balance to this universe. You must accept this, even if you do not like the balance. The karma you keep building blinds you from this, and all your beautiful words and arguments will not sway the Mahasabha. Vashishta is convinced the meadow is a crime against nature. Even I do not think it is wise. You must consider if there is a different way to achieve what you want.”
There is another silence. I imagine Kaushika staring at the lake as he considers this. The two men do not speak again, but they do not move either. My body grows stiff. My mind slows with every instant. I wonder dreamily if I can simply freeze here, aware of my own immortality forever. What would such stillness be like? A slow horror worms within my heart to contemplate it, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
Above me, I hear the two men begin their conversation again, but suddenly, I can no longer focus. The cold attacks me, lulling me toward perilous sleep, sleep I know I will not wake from. I try to move my toes, but it creates a large ripple, one that could expose me if the men were to investigate. I should have swum back into hiding several minutes ago. I am too chilled to do so now, without attracting attention. All I can do is remain here, trapped with knowledge and my recklessness.
Just when it becomes unbearable and I am about to rise, risking discovery, I hear twigs crack above. The two men stand, Kaushika murmuring about accompanying the sage part of the way.
I force myself to count to a hundred. I make it only to fifty before I have to float to the surface, teeth chattering and limbs numb. Noone is about, and the night is undisturbed again, but when I find my clothes and dress, I do so quickly, not bothering to dry myself, knowing I cannot be caught here.
