Nisha Burman

Eamonn: Book I of the Kaliyuga Series

Novel extract

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Prologue

Fifty thousand years ago, it all began, the scriptures say, with the death of “The Protector’s” mortal form. 

Krishna was his name, “The One” of the holy Bhagwadgita.

“The One” who drove the chariot, leading the great Arjuna through the war of Kurukshetra.

Where brothers killed brothers, sons and daughters were slaughtered, pyres burned, and with those kingdoms perished.

“The Protector” they whispered, stood silently doing nothing, some accused it was all his vision and misgiving.

Thus, he was cursed by Gandhari, whose hundred sons had fallen,

‘The indifference of thou to the Kurus and the Pandavas, lead them to kill each-other. Therefore, O Krishna, thou shalt be the slayer of thy own kinsmen!’

His end sealed with the curse, it came, whilst Yadavas slaughtered each-other in greed and sin.

Mistaken for a deer, hunted by the hunter Jara, he lay, breathing his last breath.

And with his death began Kaliyuga, the age of darkness, vice, and misery. 

The age of deceit, debauchery and ultimate hypocrisy.

And now as the earth spins and watches evil grow and thrive.

The good and the goodness succumb to shadows, hope dwindles in hearts, and faith declines, losing its battle.

‘Told you,’ The Devil says, whilst laughing with glee, ‘humans were a mistake and will be the end of thee.’

O! but wait, the war is not lost yet, there is still some good in the goodness, someone still prays, and the light still lives even as the flame flickers.

The plea of the innocent reaches “The Protector’s” ears, as he awakens, once again the universe conspires.

The gods are to roam the earth, and the fates are to play again, the destiny of the human beings is to be gambled in vain.

Virtues are to be tested of the mortal and the divine, thus began ‘Mission Kaliyuga’ – the final war between the moral and the vile.

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Eamonn

Present Day, Somewhere in North Wales: 

The sky was on fire. Angry crimson flares stretched on to the heavens, creating chaos, and disrupting what was a clear blue-sky day. The howling winds picked up, swirling the red clouds. It danced around them in mad circles, ruthlessly clawing at the earth, uprooting and engulfing anything that dared to encroach in its path. The ground shook beneath them, growling along with the wind, creating a wild symphony of nature.

Eamonn watched the theatrics from the deathly calm of the centre of the tornado that whirled around them. Is this it? The glorious end. The climax of Kaliyuga. The ultimate fate of the earth that they had all endeavoured to slow down. Or was this just a temporary tantrum of nature because Shiva, one of the holy trinity of the Hindu gods, was on his last breath. 

‘Oh calm down!’ Eamonn shouted, throwing his hands up and adding lightning to the drama. It struck the ground an inch away from where he stood, adding a familiar metallic smell to the sweet earthy aroma. ‘Only his human form is ending. At least he gets his sweet release.’ Eamonn couldn’t care less. Might as well wrap this all up and let the universe and all its creations succumb to dark nothingness. It didn’t matter to him anymore. Nothing mattered. For him, the world had ceased to exist the precise moment he had lost Durga. And he was to blame for it. 

‘No Shiva, actually you are to blame for this,’ he muttered as he kicked Shiva’s barely alive body. ‘You are to blame for it all, as you betrayed us. You betrayed her. This is all on you.’ He sneered with disgust at Shiva’s colourless face. ‘Had you left us alone and gone back to the heavens with that Demi-god pet of yours, we would have been just fine. I wouldn’t have lost Durga. We would have completed the mission successfully and lived happily together for eternity. But no, why would you do that? Why would you grant her anything? You can’t bear to see her happy. Can you? You obsessive, selfish megalomaniac!’

With more brute force than necessary, Eamonn lifted Shiva by his shoulders and dragged him into the cave he had deemed appropriate for shelter. The wind was now replaced by a cocktail of torrential hail and rain. Considering that his powers of micro-controlling the weather were not working very well, he suspected the cause of the angry climate was celestial rather than a freak of nature. Breathless with the effort and annoyed about how strong Shiva was, Eamonn scavenged both their backpacks and took stock. Sixteen chocolate bars and four full flasks of whiskey. A three-litre tank of water and barely seven drops of his healing nectar. Not much, but enough to sustain him here for a few days he estimated. Eamonn hoped that the dramatics of whatever this was would conclude by then. He needed to get out of here and find his car and look for Durga. By now, he was convinced that the nature parade outside was temporary rather than apocalyptic. If the world had to end, it would have gone up in flames by now. What was worrying was that Eamonn could feel all his godly powers slowly seeping out of his body.

As the night started closing in upon them, he made a fire using human methods. Settling down on a rock and turning his back on to where Shiva laid, he munched on a chocolate bar, washing it down with whiskey. The cold never bothered Eamonn much, but even he was feeling the dampness and the icy thick mist that had wrapped its arms around them. The air retained its sulphuric smell. He couldn’t see anything past the mouth of the cave. Shuddering, he shook himself from head to toe. There was something sinister about the whole environment. Rubbing his palms together, he warmed them over the fire, appreciating its power and worth for the first time. ‘I will find a way,’ he said to the fire with promise in his voice. ‘Can you hear me, Durga? If you can, please send a sign.’ The amber flickers stayed steady and undisrupted. The psychic skills he had picked up from Durga were not working, either. Taking another swig at the flask, he settled down further into his makeshift sleeping bag of hay and blankets. Closing his eyes, he focused on emptying his mind. He doubted he would get any sleep but felt that he should at least try. 

Shiva moaned from behind him.

‘Just die,’ Eamonn grumbled. ‘Die and dissipate, like you are supposed to do. I will fix this.’

‘Help,’ a faint, throaty voice responded. ‘Please, you need me.’

‘I don’t. Now please will you just die.’

‘Your healing nectar. I know you have it with you. Dilute it with …’ heavy laboured breath interrupted the demand. 

Eamonn smirked. Morally great or not, he was rather enjoying Shiva’s suffering. Then came the coughing and spluttering of blood. Eamonn refused to look. The sound effects were pleasing enough like salve to an open wound.

‘. . .some basil from my backpack and some whiskey. It may be all I need to heal.’ Shiva said in a frail voice.

‘Why would I do that?’ Eamonn retorted. ‘Why would I heal you? You are just as bad as Lucifer. Actually, you are worse than him.’ Hearing shuffling sounds, he turned towards Shiva and watched him make a weak attempt to get into a sitting position. Some destroyer great God he is. Eamonn rolled his eyes. ‘With Lucifer, I expect the evil. You, you are supposed to be the good God. Yet here we are.’ Determined not to meet Shiva’s eyes, Eamonn continued to sip at the flask and stare at the fire. ‘With you gone, I will have one less obstacle. Just die.’ 

Maybe if Eamonn could just focus his mind, he could envisage where she was. It could come to him as a vision. Slowing his breath and narrowing his eyes he conjured Durga’s image in his mind. Her dark stormy eyes staring into his, curious and amused. Her soft smile holding the universe’s secret. Her little upturned nose breathing on him whilst laying in his arms. ‘Please Durga, talk to me,’ Eamonn pleaded to the fire under his breath.

‘Please Eamonn, you know she would have wanted you to help me. She would have wanted you to do the right thing.’

Regretting not gagging and restraining Shiva, Eamonn put on his headphones hoping to mute out Shiva’s moaning. Squeezing his eyes, he tried meditating the way Durga had taught him. But all he felt was a sudden acute cramp in the middle of his chest. Pressing on it with his right middle finger, he felt the smooth edge of the ring that he wore around his neck on a chain as a talisman. The ring Durga had gifted him. Eamonn snarled. He hated being human. Emotions like guilt were deeply irritating and inconvenient. For a second, he considered braving whatever was going on out there and just trekking the four miles to where his car was parked. But he knew it wasn’t going to work. Resolved to his fate, he poured three golden precious drops of the nectar into two fingers of whiskey. Propping Shiva into the sitting position, he shoved the contents of the glass into his mouth. ‘Just to be clear, I am doing this for Durga.’

Shiva slowly opened his eyes, meeting Eamonn’s. A slow wry smile flitted on his lips as he grabbed Eamonn’s whiskey flask and drank deeply.

Eamonn instantly regretted his momentary weakness.

‘For Durga,’ Shiva echoed.

२

Durga

One year ago, Swargaloka (Hindu Heavens): 

Durga combed her knee length hair for the seventeenth time while counting the calm ripples of Durgatri lake. The clear blue waters reflected the top peaks of the Himalayas, where the great mountain range disappeared into the heavens. Around the corner, not far away from where she sat, she could see the Ganges weaving into the lake before leaving Swargaloka for its long journey through earth.

Sherni, her tigress, her familiar, returned from yet another adventure of hers and rubbed her whiskers against Durga’s shoulder in affection before lying down at her feet. Stroking Sherni’s head, Durga contemplated what to do next. She admitted she was bored out of her mind. She felt she had lived the exact Swarga day for eons. Even though time was an earthly doctrine, and she was the keeper of it, she felt trapped in it.

‘You know Sherni, I almost empathise with the Greeks and understand why they behave in certain ways sometimes,’ Durga said, pulling her tigress into her lap. ‘Although they can get overzealous and interfere too much in human matters and create chaos.’

Sherni licked her face in acknowledgement before dropping her head on Durga’s leg.

‘Especially that Aphrodite. Perhaps we should pay her a visit. I do miss a good debate with a fellow contemporary.’

Sherni opened an eye as if considering. ‘Raaawr,’ she growled before nuzzling her nose into Durga’s hip.

‘You are right, we shouldn’t show up unannounced. Besides, it will end up as it always does. With us exchanging unkind words over her intermediations and then there will be animosity between the heavens. Shiva will get yet another excuse to lecture me.’ She could almost hear his voice chiding her.

‘Now now Durga, that is not collaborative God behaviour, is it? Please make amends. You know it doesn’t look good upon us. . .’

And then she would be scolded by him endlessly. Durga would hear in excruciating details about how she was out of turn and how such conduct was unacceptable. Which would then vex Durga even more and lead to another pointless argument between her and Shiva. She would once again point out in vain that she expected the gods, at least the good ones, to do whatsoever in their power to protect the earth and its inhabitants. And the Greeks do not always abide by those golden rules. Thus, they should be the ones to make amends and apologise.

‘Well, not all of us follow your golden standards and principles, Durga. Some of us have fun, you know,’ Shiva would say, lighting up the top of his chillum and taking a puff. ‘Here have some bhang and relax. You might be more pleasant to be around after that’.

‘Well, he can—’ Durga stopped herself. Cheek’s red with embarrassment, she took deep calming breaths until the blue hues which had appeared at her fingertips cleared. Her Kali temperament was showing. How could she let herself get wound up over such menial things? She was over-thinking again. She had almost ended up swearing at her husband. That would have been iniquitous. Besides, Shiva wasn’t around, was he? He had abandoned her once again without any warning or conversation and had gone off to one of his earthly explorations with his bhang infused followers in tow. Which was fine by her. At least her abode did not reek of cannabis all the time. Oh, how she hated the smell.

‘Grrrrrrowl,’ Sherni pawed at her lap, as if sensing her distress. 

‘I am fine, old girl,’ she reassured her pet, rubbing her cheeks against Sherni. ‘Say, do you fancy going for an earthly exploration to one of the villages in the foothills of the Himalayas? I could disguise myself as a lost traveller. You could take the form of a cat. We could stay a few days among our devotees. Eat and sleep with them. Guide them and resolve their problems.’ Isn’t that interfering, too? A voice inside her reproved her. Mortified, Durga immediately deserted the idea. There would be no difference between her and the Greeks if she were to conduct herself in such a way.

She had to find something else to occupy her time other than meditating or training with Sherni. Maybe she could spend more time with Saraswathi and Ganesha. Her two youngest who still insisted on not leaving home. She was grateful for it. Without them, she would be completely alone. Saraswathi had recently developed a keen interest in baking and cooking earthly food. Perhaps she could learn how to bake with her. Durga could make those things called scones. They were her favourite. They were delicious. Or she could spend a few million years or so poring over the various theologies and challenging the many notions behind them with Ganesha. Her youngest’s astonishing intelligence and his proficiency at analysing complex philosophies baffled her. 

‘Um, beg your pardon, mother, Your Highness, Goddess. . .’ Ganesha said from behind her.

Smiling patiently, Durga faced him. ‘Yes Ganu, what is it? I told you not to call me Your Highness.’ She knew she shouldn’t have a favourite child. But she couldn’t help it with this one. He was just such a sweet, innocent boy. So humble, despite of being one of the most powerful gods in the universe. Her Ganu, the great Hindu elephant God.

Ganesha nodded apologetically whilst hovering hesitantly around the entrance, ‘m…my apologies, mother Highness Majesty.’ 

Durga stopped herself from rolling her eyes. This wasn’t going to go away. She will have to accept this as another quirk of her son. ‘Ganu, you wanted something?’

‘Um, didi’s husband, I mean jiju, I mean, Lord Vishnu, the Protector of the Holy Trinity, seeks your urgent audience,’ Ganesha replied.

‘Oh, what a surprise. Did he indicate as to why Ganu? Is it son-in-law day already?’ Durga felt a sudden low-level ache at the pit of her stomach. She did not know why she was suddenly nervous. It is quite normal for a son-in-law to visit their mother-in-law, especially since Laxmi—

‘No, Your Highness, Supreme Goddess, Mother of the Universe. He said he seeks to speak to you urgently. Also, as to Jamai Shoshti day celebration day, that is not due for another four moons.

Frowning, Durga searched Ganesha’s face. Her youngest was doing it again. He was going back to his God-pleasing ways. An attribute she did not encourage or subscribe to in any of her children. However, priorities. She can talk to Ganesha about it later or leave it with Shiva to deal with once he was back. Maybe a good father-son talk is all that was needed. ‘Please show him to my chambers, Ganu. I will join him in a moment.’

‘As your wish, Your Highness, Supreme Goddess, Mother of the Universe.’

Durga winced as Ganesha withdrew. His over-pleasing mannerisms were starting to grate her, and she was losing her patience with him. She hoped she hadn’t accidentally shown her irritation. Her child was very sensitive to her and Shiva’s temperament.

Even though predicting that the reason behind Vishnu’s calling upon her was not that of pleasure, Durga took her time to get dressed. She adorned her favourite red saree with starlight flakes. It had been an eternity since she had the pleasure of Vishnu’s company. Arranging a tray with a pair of crystal glasses, a bottle of Madira that Vishnu favoured, and some freshly baked scones, Durga hurried towards her chambers. She found Vishnu pacing around in them. ‘Heavens, do my eyes trick me? Lord Vishnu himself, paying me a visit. Is it my name day already?’ Her voice sounded too forced and cheery. Placing the tray on the floating table that moved according to the guests’ will, she offered her right hand to Vishnu.

‘Dearest Durga, it is so good to see you.’ Instead of the formal kiss on the hand, Vishnu embraced her in a tight hug. Slightly taken back by the unexpected hug, Durga patted Vishnu’s back awkwardly as he held on to her a minute longer, as if to gain courage. Was he quivering? Vishnu broke contact with a shudder.