Somoshree Palit
“I was born for something greater than I was – and greater I would become.”
– Mary Shelley
March 8th 2000.
The man sat with his eyes closed, reclining on his rocking chair, as if he had sat the same way all his life. The assemblage talked in muffled voices, stopped now and then as the chilly wind wafted in through the window. The crackling light from the fireplace flickered golden. It made the house warm, warm enough to arouse excitement, covering the room in a dull golden hue.
The young researchers in the assembly from all across the world perspired at the anticipation of what was to follow. Things at hand were out of ordinary, and such out of ordinary things did not happen every day.
“You see, we don’t really want to go over what has happened – you already know the consequence. You already know what happened, I can’t fathom what bliss you might extract from –”
“How do we know if you at all completed the job that was asked of you?”
James Rutherford was cut in the middle of the speech by one of the younger researchers. He turned sharply at him, and in a moment, his eyes flashed in fury.
“Had you been there you wouldn‟t have dared – you wouldn‟t have dared had you been there!” It was Kurt. His voice broke from the passion that steeps the throat of a man who had been struck, who has looked terror right in the eyes and had not flinched.
“Kurt,” sighed Rutherford, “It‟s of no use. Let them know, let them – well, as I have been saying, we had unearthed an ancient scroll from one of the peat bogs in Northern Ireland. We had found it in the hands of a mutilated dead body, well preserved, thanks to the bog. That‟s where our story begins…”
*****
March 8th. 1997
“JESUS CHRIST!!”
“What? Haven‟t you seen an ancient scroll before?” James asked, critical of the childish excitement bubbling in the eyes of the young scholar.
“Uh-huh. No. Have you noticed the writing over here? It‟s –”
“Gaelic. Ancient Gaelic.” The two men looked up. They were accompanied by a blond, bespectacled man. His demeanor spoke of scholarly wit.
“My name‟s Kurt. And you are?” “Arya.”
“James Rutherford,” added James quickly in fear of being left out.
“You are a letter less than Germany‟s miscalculated tragedy.” A smirk played across Kurt‟s face. Arya laughed as James looked on, bluntly confused.
“Anyway,” said James, “this ancient Gaelic text is somewhat weird. I don‟t think this has anything to do with our field of research.”
“How do you decipher this?”
“Kurt, what even is there to decipher?”James showed the scroll. On a parchment of the yesteryears, the text of the ancient spoke to the trio:
Fada san taobh an ear Gheibheadh tu an tabartair, Am beathaiche, an slayer.
An fhìrinn.
“Simply talks about an ancient Irish recipe. A recipe to make, say, by the look of it, something of a wine. „Fada‟ means an alcoholic drug, that tasted really good I guess, hence the name „Fada‟, that is, „touched by the fairies.”
James could not help feel proud of himself as Kurt‟s jaw slightly dropped. “I don‟t think this scroll is worth wasting our time for.”
As they went out of the room, they noticed Arya, still bent over the scroll, pensive. Kurt chuckled. “Hey kiddo! Good ol‟ James here has solved the mystery. Mind joining us over a cup of tea?” Arya kept on peering at the scroll. “Are you sure that this is just an Irish recipe?”
“What else d‟you reckon it can be?” James asked, rather impatient.
“Irish Gaelic and Scottish Gaelic, even though they sound same, mean totally different at times. What if this scroll contains Scottish Gaelic?”
“Why would Ireland house a Scottish scroll?”
“No wait, kid‟s got a point. There were atleast fifteen wars fought between the two from 1350 to 1380. This bogged body we got is approximately 600 years old. Kind of makes sense.” said Kurt, his eyebrows jutting together.
James coughed. “But this scroll‟s atleast 5000 years old.” “Exactly,” said Arya, “that‟s exactly what‟s fishy.” “What‟s fishy?”
“What this scroll says. The man probably found this age-old scroll, and it might be that this very scroll what provoked his tribesmen to kill him. A mutilated body of this sort doesn‟t go up for sacrifices.”
“And what do you decipher of this text?” James asked, still in doubt.
Arya looked up. His voice quivering with boyish excitement, he said, “Far in the East would you find the Creator, the Nourisher, the Slayer. The Truth. The Truth of Existence. Far in the East, beyond the Calm Seas.”
March 8th. 1998
*****
A year had passed since the trio, Kurt, James and Arya had begun their journey towards the “Far East.” They had had a heated argument over those two words. Kurt had asked “How far?” to which James had said, “It says „beyond the calm seas.‟” to which Kurt looked on hopelessly until Arya said, “Must be beyond the Pacific, which means America,” to which James burst out, “It a huge damn continent,” to which Kurt realized, “Since everything we are dealing with is of the ancient era, our destination should be the Mayan Civilisation,” to which Arya skipped in delight, “Let’s head to Mexico.”
And there rested the matter.
The Temple of Xmucane dated back to 1000 BC. Situated in the ancient Mayan city of Uxmal, the temple was built in honour of the Mayan Goddess of day and night.
“They also call it „Templo le Invocación Iéddula‟.” said James as he fiddled with the entry ticket. “Temple of Untimed Invocation?” asked Arya, looking once at Kurt, next at the steps infront of him that led to the ancient Mayan sanctorum.
Inside the temple the temperature seemed to lower down. A cool air presided over the looming darkness. Within the comfort of the temple, the three scholars gaped at the Pagan Goddess of Light, ornate with intricate designs, a fine example of Mayan expertise of architecture. The walls of the temple were lined with carvings of animals, birds, human hands among few other indiscernible yet intricate designs.
“Ladies and Gentleman, here stands before you the Goddess of Day and Night, Xmucane.” A stout man of forty addressed the congregation of tourists. “It‟s believed that Xmucane, wife of King Eadrich, had caught her husband with his mistress Sacniete Xoc, Goddess of White Flowers on a Black Stone. In a fit of fury, she had cursed Eadrich, and herself turned into a statue of stone. This!” The man pointed towards the stone sculpture.
“And Sacniete?” asked Kurt.
“She is said to have forever metamorphosed herself into white flowers, and out of guilt, had decided to be of service to Xmucane, awaiting her forgiveness.”
“Quite a cute story, helps us in no way with our research.” said James, disappointed.
The three of them did not speak much on the way back to the hotel. Night sparkled with stars in a clear sky.
“James,” said Kurt, his eyes beyond the window. “Kid hasn’t said a word since morning.” “Arya? What’s worrying you?”
“Don’t you guys think something is missing in the folklore?” said Arya, speaking for the first time in eight hours.
“I know something’s missing. I can’t quite place it, though.” said Kurt, turning to look back at Arya, who kept on scratching on his notebook.
“The guide never said what Xmucane‟s curse was about, is that what you’re referring to?” James asked, visibly concerned.
“The guide never said a word about the curse. Infact, no books tell us about the Curse of Xmucane. Yet it‟s there right infront of us, for everyone to see.” said Arya. “Did you notice the carving on the temple walls?” he added, as the trio now sat together, two of them with their usual excitement.
“The temple walls had carvings of animals, birds among various other distinctive marks.” said Arya, almost whispering. “There is only one language that speaks in pictures.”
“H-Hieroglyphics?” Kurt asked, his eyes widening with surprise. James gaped.
“The carvings in the temple aren’t just carvings. They are messages. The same message again and again. The curse of Xmucane.”
With that, Arya showed his notebook. The designs of the walls of the temple were drawn with a half-chewed off pencil.
“What does it say?”
Arya breathed. “„Za lyt salst inhe fas, und ris inhe had;‟ which means, „The light of my face shall set for you, and rise opposite to where you belong‟.”
The three fell silent.
“Why couldn’t these people be a wee-bit less ridiculous and talk in complete sentences and not make a riddle of every damn word that comes out of their heavenly mouth?” Kurt kicked the chair in front of him in frustration.
“Patience, mate. Patience.” Arya said, a childish smile playing on his lips. “Decode the curse, can you? If you do we’ll know of our final destination.”
“How can you be so sure of its decoding?” Asked James, still overwhelmed with the monstrosity of discovery.
“Because I already have.”
Both James and Kurt looked at Arya, half-smiling, half-questioning. “You have?”
“Xmucane, the Goddess of Light, thus controlling day and night, shall set in Uxmal, and rise opposite to where Eadrich, her husband and the king of Uxmal stays. That’s the curse. Think again. The light over here shall set, and rise opposite to this place. The light shall rise in the opposite face of the earth. The light shall rise in India.” Arya smiled.
“BLIMEY!!!” screamed Kurt so suddenly it made both James and Arya jumped where they sat. “Kid, kid I get you! If you draw a line from here exactly through the globe, the exact opposite is India!” Kurt jumped up and down on the floor. “OWW!” came the sound of his leg hitting the chair.
“To be more precise, a line drawn from Uxmal would lead directly to,” said James, peering over a map of the world, as his forefinger glided across the map in a straight line towards the Indian subcontinent. “Here,” his finger stopped at Mushtang, a district in Nepal. “Here,” he repeated, beating the map with his finger.
“What‟s so important about this district?” asked Kurt.
“Geographically, Mushtang is the source of the river Gandaki that carves a gorge on the Himalayas. Historically, the last king of the Mushtang Dynasty was called King Chitravake, never
fought a single war all his life. Anthropologically, it is home to Muktinath, even a temple of that name is situated there in Mushtang. Geologically, it is home to the remnants of the Jurassic Age, where there is a plenty of Ammonite Shells fossilized. These black fossils, called ‘Shalgram Shila‟ are even worshipped as the ‘Nourisher‟ – Narayana. According to Prakriti Khand of Brahma Puran :
„Ahancha shailarupi cha Gandakiteer sannidhhau, Adhishthanang karishyami Bharate tava shapatah.‟
Politically – ”
“That‟ll do.” said Kurt as he yawned and fell headlong on his bed.
James chuckled. “Why would we even need an encyclopedia when you got a genius like Arya with you?”
*****
March 8th. 1999
A year had gone by in search for „The Creator, the Nourisher, the Slayer.The Truth.‟ of the Gaelic scroll. It’s often funny to what extremes desperation can lead to.
“Hey kid! Want some biscuits?”
Arya smiled. Taking a biscuit, he said, “Guess I‟ve been wrong all this while.”
“Don’t be silly. If clues are squeezed down in various corners of the earth there has to be a reason for men to put them up.”
“Did you guys think why would some random Egyptian notch down curses on a Mayan temple?” Kurt said, biscuit in his mouth.
“Reason one: Mayans Knew Hieroglyphics. Reason two: Religion and culture from all across the world began as one unit from one place.” Arya let out a prolonged breath. “And reason three, they were the ancients. They knew.”
“Guess the text books always lied didn’t they?” James looked at the sky, a strange expression on his face.
Next day was a day of celebration in Mushtang. It was the celebration of Chitravake, the birthday of the last king of Mushtang. The king was worshipped as a deity in the village.
“Cool guy, this Chitravake. Suddenly dreams that their worshipped God is captivated in a stone, legit pulls up an entire gorge to find that stone, finds a random stone out of nowhere and deifies it. Happy guy, happy people, happy God.” Kurt smirked.
“I was thinking, we’ve searched through every single temple of this district with zero results. I think we should start searching other places out.” said James.
“What places?” Kurt stared at him, as James opened his mouth and spontaneously closed it shut lacking suitable words to form an answer.
“Chitravake began worshipping that stone before it was the annual time for worship isn‟t it?” Arya looked at Kurt.
“Yes, something of that sort. I reckon we should check in that main temple of Muktinath before we think of searching elsewhere. A last check never hurt anybody.”
“I guess Kurt‟s right Arya. What do you think?”
Arya nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Do you remember the exact words told to Chitravake in his dream?”
“Folklores say that Chitravake heard a prophecy in his dream. „Whoever finds out the Truth of the Trinity shall be destroyed. The curse of the stone shall befall the bull-eyed intruder of Truth.” said James.
“Why bull-eyed though?”
“What he meant was probably red-eyed, Kurt. I guess that’s the curse – the one whom the ‘curse‟ befalls would apparently have a change in their eye colour. Red, like that of a fiery bull.”
“This prophecy… this prophecy…rings a bell does it not?” said Arya, out of breath. James and Kurt looked on, waiting.
“THE SCROLLLLL!” Arya leaped on his feet. “The Gaelic Scroll! ‘Far in the East would you find the Creator, the Nourisher, the Slayer.’ Remember now? The Trinity! The Truth of the Trinity.” Arya clapped his hands in glee. “We are still on the right track,” he added, smiling at the bewildered two.
Arya could not sleep that night. He tossed and turned in his bed. Something was not right. They were missing out on something. It was this thought that kept him awake until 3 o‟ clock in the morning when he exclaimed, “Chitravake‟s untimed worship. Templo le Invocación Iéddula. Temple of Untimed Invocation!”
The clock struck 3:30 am. Arya headed out.
*****
March 8th. 2000
James drew a long breath. “In the morning, Arya said that the famous temple of Muktinath wasn’t the place we had been searching for.
„We need to head to the temple of Chitravake. There is the place the truth or whatever it is, is hidden.‟ That‟s what Arya told us. When we asked him how he knew, Arya said that the story of Chitravake gave him the idea of ‘Untimed Worship,‟ much like the Temple of Untimed Invocation we saw in Mexico. We headed towards that temple.”
Kurt continued, “Upon reaching, we found an ancient mound on which was situated a temple, on the left bank of the Kali Gandaki. Arya was right. The temple was built on black stones, on which bloomed white fragarias. These are flowers found only in those regions of the Himalayas. Arya had it figured out : Xmucane had cursed that she would rise in the opposite face of the earth, and Sacniete Xoc, the Goddess of White Flowers on a Black Stone, would, out of guilt, accept Xmucane‟s servitude. Those flowers, black stones, and the temple said we were right.”
“We had heard that the temple was cursed.” said James. “There were no guards or priests in the temple. Arya walked straight up to the altar. ‘There,‟ he said, „there, in the eye of the deity‟s idol, lies the truth. Yatha Salagrame Harihe. Here, resides the God.’ Kurt and I were confused. Arya said, ‘I too was. Xmucane cleared my doubts. Untimed Invocation. The deity shall reveal the truth with Untimed Invocation – Akal Bodhan . If we remove the eye of the idol, the truth shall be revealed, the same manner in which, Rama tried removing his eye, and the truth of the 108th lotus was revealed to him.”
“We removed the eye. We removed it and…” Kurt paused, “and there was a little palm leaf. It definitely had some inscriptions, but…” Kurt stopped.
“But? But what?” One of the researchers in the room almost shouted. The excitement had reached its very climax when –
“Someone had been there before us. The Inscription was destroyed.” James answered. A veil of silence engulfed the congregation.
“We were disheartened. While returning, Arya had an accident.” James paused, regaining his strength to continue. “He slipped down the gorge, and hurt his head rather badly. Doctors said the case was hopeless, but he survived. Reports said Arya had received an injury in the left inferior frontal cortex of the brain, rendering him mute for life.”
*****
With muffled voices and soft goodnights, the assembly of scholars slowly dissolved. They no longer wondered to challenge the researchers with accusations of alleged falsity. Even if they did, they did not have the heart to confess. They departed one by one, muttering sweet nothings to the man on the rocking chair.
James sighed. “Tell him I‟ll come meet him again, Kurt. Tomorrow evening.” and he went out.
“Hey kid,” Kurt knelt down beside the man, “Everything’s going to be okay. You’ll talk again. I promise. We are trying, aren’t we?”
Arya nodded, eyes still closed, as a smile spread on his youthful lips. His soft curls fell on his bandaged forehead.
“Goodnight, Arya.” Kurt squeezed his shoulders, and left the house in silence, wondering if Arya would spend the night in silent tears, whether of acceptance, or hatred for the unjust unknown.
The fire flamed an amazing red. Slowly, Arya opened his eyes. The light from the fireplace blazed bright on his eyes, dark red, like that of a bull.
The opening of the front door broke the constant silence, broken otherwise by the soft falling embers.
The blazing fire died down. Arya smiled. “Welcome back, my old friend.” He said.
*******