Chapter 14 - The Mechanics of War

Ashram, Gangapur

The trio of Kailashnath, Bhola and Maya had just left. Sumedh watched as Bahu shifted uncomfortably.

‘You have developed an affection for the boy’, Sumedh enquired.

‘Is it necessary to take Bhola with us, Sir? It might have been perceived as a threat.’, Bahu said.

‘If there is malice in their heart, then it is a threat, else it is a gift. We must play to win. Don’t forget that the safety of our Kingdom, Vatsa, may be at stake.’, Sumedh’s voice was cold.

‘But.. Gangapur is so far from the seat of power.Surely, it is the capital city of Patliputra that should be our concern.’, Bahu asked with surprise.

‘Palace intrigues may seem exciting, but revolutions seldom begin within the palace walls. It is only when the seeds of discontent have germinated among the common folk, and they rise up against tyranny that we have a true revolution. Sure, actors like us can feed the fire and create favorable conditions for a revolution to flourish, but the revolutionaries must stay loyal to the cause.’, Sumedh replied.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sumedh spotted Maya. She had returned at some point and had been standing in the shadows, listening. Sumedh let out a sigh as he beheld her pain stricken face. Bahu decided that it was time to make himself scarce and quietly left the scene.

Maya was seething within, but controlled herself.The sudden suggestion that he should move to Vatsa had left Bhola disturbed. He had become completely silent. Maya felt that if Bhola had a couple of weeks to get used to the idea then he might be more accepting. She had returned to discuss this possibility with Sumedh, only to discover that the offer was made as part of a bigger agenda.

It would be very easy to act outraged, but if she was honest with herself, then she must admit that she neither carried the burden Sumedh did, nor did she have an understanding about political affairs.

‘We are not bad people, all we seek is peace.’, Maya said softly.

‘All you want is peace?’, Sumedh looked at her with incredulity.

‘And what about the price of peace? The saints undergo tremendous discipline and make heavy sacrifices for a peaceful life. The soldiers lay down their lives to protect the peace of their nation, but you want peace for free? Isn’t that a sense of entitlement?

Getting emotional doesn’t solve problems, it only burdens others. And so, the real question is - What are you willing to give in return for peace?’

Sumedh began feeling a little guilty for his harshness.

‘If you are worried about Bhola, you are welcome to join him in Vatsa. There are many palace staff in the capital , we should be able to accommodate you as well.’, he added softly.

Maya stood there for a while trying to compose herself. She watched Sumedh’s retreating figure and realized that what he said was true. We had to pay for every advantage we wanted in life, wishful thinking alone wasn’t enough.

**************************

Sumedh reentered Chyavana’s quarters, and seated himself across the table from Chyavana. The conversation with Maya had been unsettling. Despite being a man of firm convictions, doubt assailed him from time to time. Sumedh knew that doubt could be the downfall of even the cleverest strategist and so, he set aside his misgivings.

‘I am surprised that you are asking my father to return to Vatsa. Wouldn’t his presence in Magadha be even more valuable now?’ ,Acharya Chyavana asked.

Sumedh focussed on what Chyavana was asking. He thought about it for a while and said slowly.

‘Most people have a moral center around which they operate. There may be those who flout norms without care, but they would still hold some relationships sacred. Even a bandit may hold honor among his fellow men as vital.

But of course, exceptions do exist and King PriamRaja seems to be one. His blinding greed has left no room for even his loved ones, so humanity and virtue hardly have a chance. Our ancient texts ask us to venerate the Purohita and spare his life even if he commits a grave offense. That is the reason why Atriji was chosen as a spy. But if King PriamRaja can put his own son’s life at stake just to satiate his greed , then do you think he will care for such injunctions?Do you think King PriamRaja will spare Atriji’s life if his true identity gets exposed?’

Footsteps were heard outside and Sumedh’s voice trailed off. A messenger rushed in without ceremony, and Acharya Chyavana and Sumedh looked up in surprise. Sumedh eyed the scroll in the messenger’s hand with a sense of foreboding. It was the second time in a fortnight that a message had been red flagged. Chyavana too noticed the red flag and moved away a respectful distance to give Sumedh privacy. Chyavana’s security clearance was several levels below that of Sumedh, and in matters of state importance Chyavana knew that the lesser the number of people in the know, the greater the overall safety.

‘Somadatta killed enroute’, Sumedh’s eyes widened as he decoded the contents of the message.

Magadha’s Chief of Defense , Somadatta, and Crown Prince, Vishvajit, who had been lodged in a secret prison near Kaushambi were being brought closer to Gangapur to facilitate faster exchange during the negotiations. But the convoy had been attacked on the way. Sumedh quickly scanned the rest of the contents of the message.

‘Crown Prince safe. Taken to a safe house . Reinforcements have arrived, security has been increased.’, Sumedh let out a sigh of relief. If something had happened to the Crown Prince of Magadha, not only would there be no negotiations , but the kingdoms would be in effect at war.

Sumedh took the scroll to the nearby lamp and watched it burn to ashes. He nodded to Chyavana and hurried outside.

The plan would need to be reworked to account for this new development. Sumedh signaled to Bahu and they headed toward the military outpost. His own personal safety was at increased risk, and Sumedh realized that his days of carefree living had just ended , at least for the time being.

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It was a short walk from the ashram to the military outpost and Sumedh began to organize his thoughts. Somadatta had been executed by someone, but it would have to be portrayed as Vatsa’s military strategy, just as the perpetrators intended. For a brief moment, Sumedh had considered killing Somadatta prior to the negotiations, but had cast the option aside. Taking a life, however necessary, was never easy for Sumedh and he had yet to acquire the detachment that must accompany such military maneuvers. On the positive side, the killing of the Chief of Defense would make King PriamRaja realize that Vatsa meant business.

Sumedh wondered who the perpetrators were. King PriamRaja had no dearth of enemies, but the target here seemed to be Vatsa. The message said that the perpetrators had carried weapons with Vatsa’s seal on them. A closer inspection, however, had revealed that the serial numbers on the weapons were markedly different. The serial numbers would later be cross-checked against Vatsa’s armory records, but Sumedh was pretty sure that they wouldn’t be on the list. This wasn’t the case of some random actor stealing Vatsa’s weapons and killing prisoners, this was a much bigger conspiracy and he suspected that Vatsa’s weapon suppliers were knee deep in it.

Sumedh heard angry shouts as they approached the military outpost and rushed forward to check for the cause of the commotion. In front was a woman wailing and beside her the army men were trying to calm her down and lead her away.

The ravages of war and the trauma it leaves behind can never be truly understood. It isn’t only the destruction that hurts, but also the darkness and degradation of human character that we see before our eyes. Sumedh had watched this woman come to the clinic every other day. The wounds she had suffered during the war had been severe and it would be a very long recovery. Everytime she exited the clinic, her eyes would search for any sympathetic bystanders. If she found someone willing to listen, she would deem it her lucky day . She moved from one person to the next, describing her woes, gaining their sympathy, soaking the attention and seeking favors. It no longer felt like an expression of anguish , it was milking an opportunity for all its worth. Sumedh looked at her with pity.

It is true that in the beginning sharing our pain lessens our heartache and makes us feel stronger. But after a while, if we persist in advertising our misfortunes, the effect is just the opposite, it weakens us and makes us desperate. It is at this point that we must internalize our pain, only then will it turn into a living force with the power to transform our lives, Sumedh mused.

In the beginning, Sumedh had felt sympathy for the woman, but now it was hard to feel anything for her. With some irritation, he left the scene.

At a distance, two figures had been watching Sumedh.

‘Look at his apathy’, Pushkar, one of the two men, exclaimed.

‘The derison is not because he feels she is lying about her traumatic experiences, but because she is marketing and selling them.’, Dharampal, the man next to Pushkar, replied.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Look at her, she is selling her grief and gathering all the attention and favors she can get. Ideally, she should have sought guidance and help to rebuild her life, rather than marketing her sorrow. But this is the way the world works - the one whose cries are the loudest gets the most attention. If she doesn’t act this way, her fear is that everyone will forget her.

The rulers react similarly. If we lay low and let the rulers decide our fate, while they fight wars for expanding their wealth and power, then they will just walk all over us while we writhe in pain. It is only when we disturb their peace that they will sit up and take notice.’, Dharampal elaborated.

Pushkar looked at the man next to him. Dharampal was the biggest weapon supplier in the region. He wasn’t interested in any side winning the war, his aim was endless war so that he could stay in business. With Chunar having been captured by Vatsa, Pushkar’s position as the Gopa had become redundant. He had been looking for employment and had been approached by Dharampal. At first, Pushkar had been appalled by this man’s vision , but Dharampal was quite good at persuading people to his line of thinking.

‘Why should it be wrong for us to stoke hostilities and earn something on the side?’Dharampal had asked indignantly while recruiting Pushkar.

‘In a righteous world, irrespective of the provocation, they would sort out their differences and aim for peace. But are they doing that?’, Dharampal had argued.

Hearing this, the wheels in Pushkar’s mind had begun to turn. The vision that had been unpalatable just a few moments earlier had become more acceptable. The wavering human mind is commonplace and no one was surprised at Pushkar’s sudden change of allegiance other than Pushkar himself. Ironically, Dharampal had declared Deependra, a master in switching allegiances, ineligible to join their group.

‘Deependra has no honor’, Dharampal had said in a serious tone.

‘It would have been good if the Crown Prince had been killed as we originally planned’, Pushkar was brought back to the present with Dharampal’s remark.

‘But I suppose Somadatta’s death too will keep the tension simmering between Vatsa and Magadha. I am sure that the armies of both kingdoms will be on their toes. Business should pick up even with this outcome.

Come on, let’s celebrate’, Dharampal said, as he pulled Pushkar towards the waiting carriage.

‘Come on, my friend. Take us to the nearest leisure inn’, Dharampal said to his carriage driver.

**************************

The next morning

Tears streamed down Bhola’s face as he packed his belongings for the journey to Vatsa. The thought, my world is about to change forever, was recurring. Bhola’s father had told him that it was time for him to chase his dreams.

‘I will take care of the rest.’, Kailashnath, his father, had added reassuringly.

Bhola’s mother had died soon after his birth, but his aunt and all the women of Gangapur had pampered and protected him. Most boys are pulled out of their mother’s embrace after a few years and asked to man up. It is a sink or swim situation as you try to secure a place among men, or risk being bullied. Bhola had been shielded thus far, but now, he knew his time had come.

Maya had been helping Bhola pack. She watched him with a range of emotions flooding through her. There was the sadness of having a friend leave, anxiety for his safety, apprehension whether he would be able to cope alone, joy for the new opportunities that lay ahead of him, and the resignation that he would change. Watching the transition of sensitive children to calculating adults always saddened Maya. But in many ways, the transition was necessary to cope in the real world.

She was once again reminded of the past. As a child, Deependra had been straightforward , obedient toward all elders and a caring older brother to all kids. Over the course of one summer, she saw him transform into the crass and manipulative person he was today. All it took was the company of some rebellious and degenerate teenagers, and all his positive traits were transformed into assets that he capitalized and all acquaintances were exploited to the hilt. Everyone began to avoid him, but he kept looking for credulous people whom he could entrap.

Watching Deependra, Maya had begun understanding human nature. These manipulative people were willing to hurt you when they had the upper hand , but came running to you for sympathy and help when they were going through a bad phase. And if by any chance, you had a soft heart and helped them, you were in for a rude shock. Because once they were back on their feet , they would be back to their manipulative self. What was astounding was that these despicable people imagined that no one could see through them or give them a taste of their own medicine!

She hoped that Bhola would grow wise, and not manipulative. She felt the anxiety of an older sister, but knew that he had been given the right values and it was up to him to find the will and courage to choose virtue instead of evil.

‘Greetings Miss and Young Master’, Maya looked up to see Bahu standing in the doorway.

‘Any update on the travel plan?’, she asked him.

‘Ahh.. Miss, Sumedhji is enquiring if you have decided to accompany the Young Master to Vatsa?’, Bahu asked with a slight smile. Inwardly he told himself that though Sumedh hadn’t said these words aloud, they were certainly on his mind.

Bhola jumped with joy at the suggestion. Maya was startled, she had treated Sumedh’s offer as a casual remark to appease her. But Bhola and Bahu were already hugging each other at the prospect. Maya felt her world spin, there was no way she could abandon her new boutique, could she?

‘We will, of course, arrange for employment, as an apprentice to the royal tailor, perhaps?’ , Bahu added for good measure.

He took his master’s single status very seriously and wanted to help him get rid of it. Bahu knew that having the right companion could make all the difference in a person’s life and for those around him. He would rather see someone like Maya in his master’s life than the Princess. The Princess was kind, sure. There is, however, a power, status and grandeur one needs to maintain while being associated with the royals. This might be enjoyable for some, but it would burden Sumedh and gradually suffocate him. And though Maya seemed to have treated Sumedh’s invitation lightly, the very fact that Sumedh talked about the invite to Bahu meant that Sumedh had extended the invitation after careful consideration and, perhaps, with hope.