Chapter 1

‘They have raised the taxes. Last harvest I gave only one sixth of my produce, but this time they have taken away a quarter.’

‘Taxes can be raised during the war. It is allowed by law.’ Govardhan , the tax expert, replied.

There were groans of dismay from the crowd.

The monthly Panchayat (village council) meeting was in progress.Usually the crowd consisted of 50 to 60 people, but these were not ordinary times; There was a war and the village folk of Gangapur were anxious. It was already noon but the crowd of 150 still stayed on.Seated at the front were the five village elders who constituted the Panchayat. Their faces were grave. The last report had come two days back - The enemy was approaching Patliputra, the capital of Magadha. All the troops stationed in the countryside had been called back to join in the decisive battle.

‘Gramikaji , Is… Is the capital safe?’ One among the crowd finally ventured.

The question had been on everyone’s mind and it was a relief to hear it being said aloud.There was pin drop silence, everyone was looking at the Gramika,the Village head, but he didn’t speak.

‘Of course it is safe, Our king is a great warrior’ a vigorous youth spoke up.

‘But he’s old now’ cried another from the crowd.

‘And there are the princes. I have personally seen them fight… Excellent fighters’ The youth retorted.

‘I heard one of the princes was killed.’

‘ Not killed , martyred ! So what? We still have Princes Mahipal and Chirag. They will…’.

Kailashnath, the Gramika, had been listening quietly. He had always maintained a calm demeanor, but today he failed. He had lived through a few wars and knew that their chances were bleak. He was no pessimist, but offering false optimism would not make the road ahead easy. After all, a bend in the road is not the end of the road, all they needed to do was make the turn, as gracefully as possible. Having made up his mind, he felt more composed. Murmuring a silent prayer, he faced the crowd. He held up his hand requesting silence.

A hush fell on the crowd.

‘We love our King, King Ashwapati, and have lived under his protection for more than a decade. And today, his majesty faces a grave danger. We can offer him our loyalty, and contribute to his cause to the best of our ability, but we have our limits. We must acknowledge that there is a greater power , the divine , that decides and whose wishes we must accept…’

Whispers were heard in the crowd and many folded their hands in prayer.

‘The will of God is supreme and we must trust that what lies ahead will be what is best for us.’

Kailashnath concluded. It was not much, but this was the best he could say right now.

He motioned to Jaiveer, the facilitator, who nodded.

“ Next on the agenda - Water tax.’ Running his finger through the agenda before him, Jaiveer announced.

‘Gopalji , please state your problem”

‘Umm, well, the water taxes have risen, but I suppose.. It is the war after all, maybe you could drop..’ Gopal replied.

‘Alright , next issue, Schooling’

Not every village in Magadha had an ashram for learning, but Gangapur did. Kailashnath was a learned man himself and knew the advantage of having an educated population. He had promoted the idea of building an Ashram in the village and had diligently overseen its construction. Not only that, he had gone to great lengths in selecting the right Acharya, the school teacher. The quality of teachers varied greatly, but he had been fortunate to find a very learned man - Acharya Dhaumya. How many evenings the Panchayat members had spent with Acharyaji , debating, learning and seeking advice! Sadly, he was no more, and for more than a month the Ashram hadn’t had a formal teacher. The older students had been helping the younger ones, and he himself had visited the Ashram from time to time; but this, he knew, was only a temporary fix. They needed an Acharya, but the political turmoil in Magadha had dissuaded many prospects.

‘Have we received any applications?’ Kailashnath queried

Bhola was bored. The topics were always the same - Taxes , Education, Irrigation.... On and on, they went. His eyes glazed over and soon he was half asleep.

‘Ouch!!’ He cried, Someone had pinched him - hard.

Bhola looked up to find his uncle glaring at him.

Most 15 year olds skipped the Panchayat meeting, but not Bhola. His father, Kailashnath, was the Gramika and his uncle, Badrinath, was a member of the Panchayat. With two of the five Panchayat members at home, attending the Panchayat sessions was mandatory. And if this were not enough, there were follow up sessions at home. Each issue would be debated again and again, for hours on end.

He listened in.

‘Maybe I could bring up the issue at the meeting with the Gopa…’ his father was saying

They were still discussing education!

Suddenly, his eyes lit up. Was that the sound of a horse? Ahh, a welcome diversion.

A soldier with a strange flag in one hand rode up to them. He dismounted, unrolled a scroll and began to read.

‘Magadha has been conquered by his sacred and gracious Majesty, King PriamRaja. This is another step towards achieving his grand vision of unifying the entire India under one ruler. His deep reverence and obedience to the scriptures will guide him in building a virtuous kingdom.

To all the subjects listening, his gracious majesty, sends his assurance that under his benevolent rule, their way of life will be protected, their needs attended to, and their aspirations nurtured.’

The soldier paused for a breath here and then carried on for another two minutes. He then rolled up his scroll, mounted his horse and left.

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PriamRaja meaning Beloved King ! Well, it certainly tells us of his parents aspirations when they were naming him. Kailashnath thought with a wry smile. The reality was certainly very different. News of his character and administration had been pouring in, there had been whispers

‘Corrupt, Ambitious, Indifferent, Cruel …’

At the inter-village meeting, even the Gopa, the head of their cluster of villages, had hinted that we must brace ourselves for change. The Gopa’s position was the most vulnerable, so even saying this much could be considered significant. Afterall, he wouldn’t want to risk his position by making any controversial statements that might find its way to PriamRaja’s ears.

“Father, when will the new king visit our village? Will he, ...will he attend our Panchayat meeting?’ Bhola asked eagerly.

Kailashnath had had great hopes from Bhola when he was born, even wondering if he would attend the famed university at Nalanda. But he had turned out to be simple minded just as his name suggested. Perhaps he should congratulate himself on getting his son’s name right, unlike King PriamRaja’s parents. More seriously though, Bhola was a good natured and helpful boy. He may never make the family proud , but he wouldn’t be the cause of any shame either, and Kailashnath was grateful for that. He reached out his hand, and tousled Bhola’s hair with fondness.The other members of the Panchayat were inviting him for a quick discussion and he left Bhola with a ‘Let’s talk later’.

The venue for the Panchayat meeting varied. Since it was summer now, they had chosen a clearing in the forest for the meeting. The mangrove forests not only offered shelter from the scorching heat, but also provided a delightful snack. Kailashnath was eyeing one of the ripe mangoes near him.

Suddenly, Kailashnath sensed movement and looked around. The face of a slender youth peeped out of the woods.

‘Sanga, My boy ! What news .. what news?’ Kailashnath exclaimed.

When he saw the fear and anger in Sanga’s eyes, he braced himself.

‘We lost. Prince Chirag and Prince Mahipal were killed in battle’.

‘The King, what about the king?’

‘Beheaded…’ A slight sob caught in Sanga’s throat.

‘No one, no one from the Royal family was left alive’.

Kailashnath winced, Sanga had confirmed his worst fears.

A defeated king is at the mercy of the victorious king. A generous victor might allow the defeated King to run a vassal state. The other progressively painful options were leading a restricted life in exile or being a prisoner. But PriamRaja had chosen the other extreme for King Ashwapati.

Kailashnath now had a concrete example of PriamRaja’s famed cruelty. He went forward and hugged the youth.

‘Stay with my family tonight.’ Kailashnath said

Sanga gradually composed himself and withdrew.

‘Thank you Gramikaji, but I don’t want to be in the way’

‘It’s not safe to stay at the Traveller’s inn right now. Tell everyone to stay low for a few months’.

‘Oh, okay.’ Sanga acquiesced.

Kailashnath and Sanga had first met 2 years back at the inter-village meeting held by the Gopa. The harvest had been splendid that year, but the farmers were not getting the prices they sought. Kailashnath had just had a heated debate with the Gopa and was about to head back to Gangapur, when he noticed Sanga.

Sanga was sitting under a Banyan tree. His back was upright and he was seething with rage.

“Are you alright my boy?’ Kailashnath had asked him tentatively.

Sanga’s eyes were flashing as he turned toward Kailashnath.

‘Are you alright? Do you want to talk about it?’ Kailashnath had gently prodded.

Sanga’s shoulders had slumped and he nodded.

‘Those cheats. I was planning to grow vegetables this time, but they told me to grow rice. They convinced me that all others were growing vegetables, and the price would crash due to oversupply. I switched to rice and now the price of rice has crashed, while they are selling vegetables at a handsome profit!’

So this was what happened! Kailashnath patted Sanga’s shoulder as he began to connect the dots. Agricultural land in the Kingdom was both in the public and private sector. The Crown lands were managed by the King’s officials. They had the advantage of prior information and consequent ability to manipulate. If, for example, the officials received information about pests attacking a specific type of crop, they might just ‘miss’ passing on the information to a peasant who was planning to sow the crop.

Or as in this case, they manipulated the peasants for their own profit. All peasants were required to give the officials prior notice on the crop they were planning to sow. It was decided that the Crown lands should grow vegetables, and so all the peasants were told that there was already an oversupply of vegetables. The peasants then shifted to other crops like rice. At the time of harvest, only the King’s officials were able to supply vegetables and so they controlled the market price, while the peasants found that their produce was in oversupply and consequently their price crashed.

Each department of the King had their profit targets and though, on the face of it, it was the officials who were resorting to such measures, Kailashnath knew that the King wouldn’t have been unaware. King Ashwapati was not cruel, but he didn’t mind such tricks if it filled his treasury coffers.

A firm resolve filled Kailashnath.

‘We may be weak when we are alone, but together we can fight them’ Kailashnath said to Sanga.

What followed this encounter was an unlikely friendship between a youth of 22 and a man of 60, which gradually blossomed into a student-mentor relationship. In their joint pursuit, Sanga brought with him the vigor of youth, and Kailashnath provided not only experience and expertise, but also a keen understanding of human behavior.

The arguments against hoarding of knowledge and information have been there from time immemorial. Even the crown officials talk about having a level playing field irrespective of rank or class, but there was a wide gap between what they said and how they acted. They were ruthless in dealing with those who might expose their manipulation or leak their ‘privileged information’

Over the course of the next few months, Kailashnath and Sanga built a network of like minded individuals. The Goal was only one - Make Knowledge free. The members of this group ‘Gyanadoot, Messengers of Knowledge’ had no personal ambitions nor did they seek recognition. Their operations were covert and anonymous.

A friendly stranger informs a peasant about a fair in the neighboring village. The peasant visits the village during the fair and discovers just the information he needed for his crop.

Or

A peasant whose harvest was damaged by pests, ‘accidently’ visits a farmer who is about to sow the same crop. The farmer then realises it would be a disaster if he continued, so he changes his decision and sows a different crop.

Initially, all these happy coincidences were considered to be divine providence. But gradually there was speculation whether the divine maynot have some human cohorts. The members of Gyanadoot were extremely careful not to leave any identification, and no one was able to crack the mystery. Having no leads, the Crown officials were forced to accept their losses ‘good naturedly’.

While the network had worked well during peace, its greatest value was revealed in war time.

Villages that had lain in the path of the invading army had been informed in the nick of time, and a mass exodus saved thousands of lives.

All this had given Kailashnath immense satisfaction, but there was one gift that he was even more grateful for - the time to adapt. Information had been pouring in for months now, and how much ever he hoped otherwise, the evidence was that they were bound to lose the war. Being mentally prepared for this unpleasant and yet inevitable outcome, had not only helped him deal with the current moment with composure, but also enabled him to look ahead and plan.

Kailashnath asked Sanga to join Bhola while he himself proceeded to join the Panchayat members.

‘We have to … we have to show that we are still in charge. Look at the villagers, they are all anxious , agitated.. We have to talk to them’ Govardhan was saying , clearly having a hard time controlling his own emotions.

Badrinath looked up at his brother, as Kailashnath approached them.

‘It has to be you, you have to address them’.

Kailashnath nodded silently and looked around him. The crowd of people had formed themselves into groups - some anxious, some furiously debating the new development and some feeling smug because their predictions had proven true.

It was noisy and Jaiveer had to shout to make himself heard.

‘Everybody , please be seated. Yes, yes, you,... my Good sir, please sit down. Mother, you too.

Gramikaji will now address us’.

Kailashnath stepped forward and spoke.

‘My dear brothers and sisters. We stand here today in the midst of a great change, a change that frightens us. And it is at such a time that we must go back to our foundations.

I want to remind you that the strength and perseverance of our country has lain in the system we have adopted in our villages. It is the Panchayat that governs the village, and that Panchayat is elected by you, all of you. Most of the land in our village is owned by us, not by the king. Isn’t it so?’

The crowd nodded in agreement ‘Yes, yes, it is our land’.

‘And this is why I ask you to put your faith in this system.’ Kailashnath continued.

‘In the past too, Kings have come and gone, but our villages have endured. The Kingdom of Magadha has thousands of villages, no king can administer each of them individually. A king must be busy administering the whole kingdom, building an army, protecting and expanding the kingdom, handling foreign affairs, and attending to his royal duties. And hence, Kings have never taken away the liberties of the Panchayat. Please be assured that our social fabric will remain unchanged.

I, Kailashnath, as your Gramika, remain in your service and will help you and our village to adapt to the demands of the new regime.’