CHAPTER 3
She Enters His Life
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...
long...
so long...
a hundred years...
never thought I...
find Neelkanth...
Jai Shri Ram...' Shiva tried to ignore Nandi's babble as he focussed on keeping the fever down.
But his ears had caught on to something.
He's been searching for a hundred years?!
Shiva frowned.
The fever's affecting his bloody brain!
He doesn't look a day older than twenty years! ‘I've been searching for a hundred years...,' continued the oblivious Nandi. ‘...
I found...
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?
But that's impossible!
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.
How the hel does he know?
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.
You guessed right.
I don't believe in symbolic gods.
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.
He speaks to us al the time.
Al we need to do is listen.
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.
There is no your god or

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