Green Garden

Healing Heart

Spa and Relaxation

Nandi lay in a semi-conscious state for several hours as the medicines administered by the doctors worked on his body.

Shiva sat by his side, repeatedly changing the wet cloth on his burning forehead to control the fever.

Nandi kept babbling incoherently as he tossed and turned in his sleep, making Shiva's task that much more difficult. 'I've been searching...

Jai Shri Ram...' Shiva tried to ignore Nandi's babble as he focussed on keeping the fever down.

He's been searching for a hundred years?!

He doesn't look a day older than twenty years! 'I've been searching for a hundred years...,' continued the oblivious Nandi. '...

Neelkanth...' Shiva stopped for a moment and stared hard at Nandi.

Then shaking his head dismissively, he continued his ministrations.

Shiva had been walking on a paved, signposted road along the River Beas for the better part of an hour.

He had left the rest house to explore the area by himself, much against a rapidly recovering Nandi's advice.

Nandi was out of danger, but they had to wait for a few days nevertheless, so that the Captain could be strong enough to travel.

There was not much Shiva could do at the rest house and he had begun to feel resdess.

The three soldiers had tried to shadow Shiva, but he had angrily dismissed them. 'Wil you please stop trying to stick to me like leeches?' The rhythmic hymns sung by the gentle waters of the Beas soothed Shiva.

A cool tender breeze teased his thick lock of hair.

He rested his hand on the hilt of his scabbard as his mind swirled with persistent questions.

Is Nandi realy more than a hundred years old?

And what the hel do these craqy Meluhans need me for anyway?

And why in the name of the holy lake is my bloody throat stil feeling so cold?

Lost in his thoughts, Shiva did not realise that he had strayed off the road into a clearing.

Staring him in the face was the most beautiful building he had ever seen.

It was built entirely with white and pink marble.

An imposing flight of stairs led up to the top of a high platform, which had been adorned by pilars around its entire circumference.

The ornate roof was topped by a giant triangular spire, like a giant 'namaste' to the gods.

Elaborate sculptures were carved upon every available space on the structure.

Shiva had spent many days in Meluha and al the buildings he had seen so far were functional and efficient.

However, this particular one was oddly flamboyant.

At the entrance, a signpost announced, Temple of Lord Brahma'.

The Meluhans appeared to reserve their creativity for religious places.

There was a smal crowd of hawkers around the courtyard in the clearing.

Some were seling flowers, others were seling food.

Stil others were seling assorted items required for a puja.

There was a stal where worshippers could leave their footwear as they went up to the temple.

Shiva left his shoes there and walked up the steps.

Entering the main temple, he stared at the designs and sculptures, mesmerized by the sheer magnificence of the architecture. 'What are you doing here?' Shiva turned around to find a Pandit staring at him quizzicaly.

His wizened face sported a flowing white beard matched in length only by his silvery mane.

Wearing a saffron dhoti and angvastram, he had the calm, gende look of a man who had already attained nirvana, but had chosen to remain on earth to fulfil some heavenly duties.

Shiva realised that the Pandit was the first truly old person that he had seen in Meluha. 'I am sorry.

Am I not alowed in here?' asked Shiva politely. 'Of course you are alowed in here.

Everyone is alowed into the house of the gods.' Shiva smiled.

Before he could respond however, the Pandit questioned once again, 'But you don't believe in these gods, do you?' Shiva's smile disappeared as quickly as it came.

The Pandit answered the question in Shiva's eyes. 'Everyone who enters this place of worship looks only at the idol of Lord Brahma.

Almost nobody notices the efforts and the briliance of the architects who built this lovely temple.

You, however, have eyes only for the work of the architects.

You have not yet cast even a glance upon the idol.' Shiva grinned apologeticaly.

I believe that the real god exists al around us.

In the flow of the river, in the rustle of the trees, in the whisper of the winds.

However, I apologise if I have caused some offence in not showing proper respect for your god.' You don't need to apologise, my friend,' smiled the Pandit.

But I have a feeling that one day you wil find a temple worth walking into just for prayer, not to admire its beauty.' 'Realy?

Which temple might that be?' 'You wil find it when you are ready, my friend.' Why do these Meluhans always talk in bizarre riddles?

Shiva nodded politely, his expression pretending an appreciation for the Pandit's words that he did not truly feel.

He thought it wise to flee the temple before his welcome was stretched any further. 'It's time to get back to my rest house now, Panditji.

But I eagerly look forward to finding the temple of my destiny.

It was a pleasure meeting you,' said Shiva, as he bent down to touch the Pandit's feet.

Placing his hand on Shiva's head, the Pandit said gently, 'Jai Guru Vishwamitra.

Jai Guru Vashishta.' Shiva rose, turned and walked down the steps.

Looking at Shiva walking away from him, clearly out of earshot, the Pandit whispered with an admiring smile, for he had recognised his fellow traveller in karma. 'The pleasure was al mine, my karmasaathi' Shiva reached the shoe stal, out on his shoes and offered a coin for the service.

The shoekeeper politely declined. 'Thank you Sir, but this is a service provided by the government of Meluha.

There is no charge for it.' Shiva smiled. 'Of course!

Thank you.' The shoe-keeper smiled back. 'We are only doing our duty, Sir.' Shiva walked back to the temple steps.

As he sat down, he breathed in deeply and let the tranquil atmosphere suffuse him with its serenity.

The moment that every unrealised heart craves for.

The unforgettable instant that a soul, clinging on to the purest memory of its previous life, longs for.

The second, that in spite of a conspiracy of the gods, only a few lucky men experience.

She rode in on a chariot, guiding the horses expertly into the courtyard, while a lady companion by her side held on to the railings.

Although her black hair was tied in an understated bun, a few irreverent strands danced a spelbinding kathak in the wind.

Her piercingly magnetic, blue eyes and bronzed skin were an invitation for jealousy from the goddesses.

Her body, though covered demurely in a long angvastram, stil ignited Shiva's imagination enough to sense the lovely curves which lay beneath.

Her flawless face was a picture of concentration as she manoeuvred the chariot skilfuly into its parking place.

She dismounted the chariot with an air of confidence.

It was a calm confidence which had not covered the ugly distance towards arrogance.

Stately enough to let a beholder know that she was detached, but not cold.

Shiva stared at her like a parched piece of earth mesmerised by a passing rain cloud.

Have mercy on me! 'My lady, I stil feel it's not wise to wander so far from the rest of your entourage,' said her companion.

She answered. 'Krittika, just because others don't know the law, doesn't mean that we can ignore it.

Lord Ram clearly stated that once a year, a pious woman has to visit Lord Brahma.

I wil not break that law, no matter how inconvenient it is to the bodyguards!' The lady noticed Shiva staring at her as she passed by him.

Healing Heart

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