She had been roaming all day, ascending hills and descending into beautiful valleys. Travelling vast flower bedecked meadows and crossing singing streams. The farmers ploughing their fields, the women carrying manure on their heads, the children merrily playing under the trees—all saw her as she approached. A flash of light, a shimmery breeze and a whiff of fragrancein their lives. They ran towards her, clung to her luminous being. “Mother mother attend to us,” and she did attend to all of them, sharing their sorrows and their joys, listening to their tales of woes. A childless couple, a sick man’s troubles, a meagre harvest, and too much rain—all these woes were told to her, and she lightened their burden, softly comforting them with hope. She was the messiah in their lives, roaming and reaching all mankind.
In a family, a baby was born, but alas, it would not suckle at its mother’s breast. Lal came in, “Show me the child. Here you are. Nund has come. Nund shall rule hearts of men. Why do you shy away from a woman’s breast, when shied you not while being delivered from her womb?”
“Come my child, hold my breast and drink from it, for you shall know all that is to know.” The baby eagerly held onto the breast with his tender lips and suckled her dry. Lal got up and left the house for she had now to go to the river and look for a boat. She had spent her entire nectar on Nund who had sucked in the very last drops too.
“Who shall without profit or some gain help me cross the river tonight?” she called out. She came to the bank and saw at a distance a boatman rowing towards her. Lal, in a frenzy, ran away and reached a busy baazar lane. She went to the grocers, “Cover me, son; give me a raiment, naked I am.” The grocer laughed and took it as a joke. Lal cannot be shrouded ever, the eternal moon. She went to the bakers. “Cover me, son; give me a raiment, naked I am.” Before the baker could react, Lal went in and jumped into the leaping flames of his oven. The baker, fearing for his life, put a lid on the fire so that no one would ever come to know what had transpired. After a while the lid came off, and shrouded like a fairy in a white robe, Lal came out. Like the princess of some far away land. A bride bedecked in the most dazzling of ways. The baker baffled, asked thus, “Lal, what is this? How come thee needed to clothe, for all know, that always naked you have been?” Lal replied, “My dear son, a man today for the first time have I seen rowing a boat across the river I wish to cross.How could I, a woman, approach him naked and break the rules divine providence has approved of?”
Saying this, Lal departed from the bakers and proceeded towards the river bank. On her way, she saw the boatman coming for her. As they came face to face under a tall majestic chinar, they bowed to each other in mutual reverence. The boatman held out his hand and Lal held it with her own. Then both went towards the river bank, and descended seven steps to the waiting boat.
Men and women from all over the place heard of this and gathered at the river. Waving their hands, crying with joy, tears flowing down their cheeks, they bid farewell to their queen.
There it was. The legendary Swarg Desh. Kashyap did not believe his own eyes. The valley lay spread out before him as he stared down from a mountain peak. He had toiled day and night for this moment in his life. Bruised, tired and utterly exhausted, he lay there watching the reward of his toil. Yes, there it was. Like an emerald encased in white pearls. The shining white snow clad peaks stood like sentinels guarding the treasure that lay at the bottom. The large expanse of shining blue water in the center of the valley reflected all the mountain peaks, all the thick forests and at first glance it appeared as if yet another valley lay beneath the water. Kashyap could not take his eyes away. The breathtaking beauty emanated from every tree, every blade of grass that grew within the valley. Kashyap, though exhausted and forlorn, felt a new surge of energy within him. He would descend into the valley before it was dark. He could not hold back now. Throwing all caution to the winds, the fear of Jaladbhava notwithstanding, Kashyap began his downward trek in gay abandon. He was not bothered now. He had reached his destination; he had achieved in his lifetime his singular goal. Even if he perished now, it was not a bad bargain.
From the time Kashyap reached the top of that last mountain, his every movement was being monitored. Jaladbhava’s mountain surveillance force had picked him up on their radar. The energy changes on that peak had been monitored at ten different stations. The anti-intrusion force was already on red alert and Jaladbhava was kept posted. He had instructed his assistants to allow the intrusion and ascertain the purpose behind. But for this, Kashyap would have evaporated on the mountain peak under a volley of missiles fired at him. But he, oblivious to all this, continued his descent. He was enamoured by flowers in full bloom. He had never seen such flowers before of all colours, and all shades. A sweet fragrance hung in the air and multi-hued birds sang in unison. There were fruit trees on the way and Kashyap was startled to see the variety in shape and size. He would pluck an apple, take a bite and feel transformed into another world. Passing through a dense expanse of forest, Kashyap could sense the presence of a variety of game. The richness of flora and fauna really startled the man from the plains.
By and by, Kashyap’s descent was complete. He reached the bottom of the valley and proceeded towards the bank of the lake, to what seemed a lush green meadow, with hundreds of flowers blooming at every step. The sun was fast descending behind the western mountains. “It will be dark after sometime,” Kashyap thought, but he wanted to see the sun set and enjoy every bit of this heavenly atmosphere.
He sat on the green emerald turf facing the west and waited. The orange coloured luminescence was spreading on the western horizon. The snow-clad peaks appeared to take on a golden hue and the rays of the setting sun danced over the blue water in front of Kashyap. This really was Swarag Desh, no doubt about that. Suddenly, Kashyap recollected Jaladbhava. ‘Where was he? Could he be in his abode under the water as the legend goes? Or was he concealed in those dense woods? Where could he be? How could this beauty belong to him? No, I must not allow this, even if it means a fight. I shall destroy him with all the power at my command. I will not rest until I have freed this land from those who claim it as their own.’
The sun was about to disappear behind the mountain peak and it was beginning to get dark. Kashyap, lost in his own thoughts, continued to sit on the emerald green sheet of turf.
An excerpt from Ayaz Rasool Nazki’s book SATISAR, THE VALLEY OF DEMONS published by Vitasta Publishing and the book is available on www.vitastapublishing.com
