Prologue

It was only a few hours earlier that I had that mysterious but rather divine conversation with my son Krishna. Or was it a few days back or years ago?

Unlike other residents of Gokul, my son Krishna was strangely dark bluish in color. It was attributed to an unexplained allergic reaction to Putana’s poisoned breast milk when he was barely a few weeks old. Putana was a Rakshasa lady sent by the Rakshasa king, Kamsa, who wanted all newborns of that particular month to be killed mercilessly as Krishna was supposedly born during that period.

Kamsa had issued this order after he had heard that rather unexplained but spooky announcement via Akashvani when he was about to smash his younger sister’s newborn onto the prison floor. The announcement had said that the baby he was holding in his hand and was about to kill was not Krishna but some other baby.

It also said that Krishna had already taken birth and was currently having a peaceful nap elsewhere wearing his diapers. He would soon grow up to be a super hero that Bharat had never seen before and would kill Kamsa at the right time. It was also reiterated in the announcement that Krishna was not any other ordinary super hero but was the long awaited avatar of Vishnu himself!

Of course, Kamsa was not evolved enough to know that this announcement was nothing but a prerecorded message relayed through a loud speaker discreetly hidden in the royal prison.

Kamsa had literally pissed in his pants, and the same was confirmed by his subordinates later. He had then ordered to kill all newborns born in that particular month in his kingdom of Mathura.

But Putana herself mysteriously died after trying to breastfeed my son Krishna. All the villagers celebrated this event as it only further confirmed that Krishna was Vishnu’s another avatar but neither my wife Srishti nor I was happy, amused, or convinced by this story.

I gave Vyasa a piece of my mind: “You heartless freak, I agreed to your plan thinking that you were interested in the Mahabharata restaging at a very high level, but little did I know you wanted to restage it chapter by chapter or rather page by page!!”

My wife had never wanted Krishna to be a part of this ridiculous and outrageous plan and she has not been on talking terms with me since. I should have never listened to him. I wanted to back out from that foolish plan right then!

Vyasa had tried to convince me then. He said, “Please don’t say that. You know how important it is for us to restore the faith of our countrymen. I swear I did not have any hand in asking Putana to feed your son with poisoned milk. But I have a feeling that Krishna was saved because he is one of those rare babies who are born with a tooth or even a couple of teeth. He must have bit her nipples real hard when she tried to force-feed him. Since you people are like 5,000 years ahead of us, your bodies must be immune to all the primitive poisons used here. Putana’s death is still a mystery. She must have died of some unexplained allergic reaction in her body from Krishna’s saliva. I will assure you such incidents will never recur again. We will not make Krishna’s whereabouts public until he is old enough to face the world.”

It was true that Krishna was born with a couple of teeth. The Indian mythology enthusiast inside me secretly wanted the restaging of Mahabharata to happen right in front of my eyes which was one of the reasons I had agreed to this crazy plan in the first place. I reluctantly decided to buy in to Vyasa’s assurance and his somewhat convincing explanation.

Since that incident though, many feel Krishna had turned bluish in color. Initially, my wife and I were very concerned about this, but we soon got used to it as Krishna grew up as any normal kid in Gokul if not smarter. That bluish skin color also gave him that divine look which went well with his persona. He might have inherited some of my South Indian darkish skin color. Whatever it was, it was surely working in his favor!

Divine or not, to us he was easily the smartest and the most intelligent kid this planet had ever seen. But then any proud parent would feel the same about one’s kid.

Coming to Gokul, it was very difficult to keep track of time here. 7 am by my Rolex watch would be pleasant one day but scorching on other days. Our earth’s calendar was also of little use here. I had no idea how old Krishna was, because he behaved double his age if not more. He openly flirted with girls much older than him and strangely, all those local Mathura girls willingly reciprocated. According to them, he took them to a state of trance while playing his mouth organ that I had brought along from my planet. When I tried to investigate, I saw to my horror that he was stealing their clothes when they were bathing in the village pond.

He had even picked up a few soccer skills recently from some of my crew members. Like any guy of Indian origin, I had wanted him to pick up cricket instead! But sigh!

Krishna had also managed to mesmerize the local boys here, apart from the girls double his age. Thanks to him, all the boys of Mathura had now taken to soccer big time. I regularly see Krishna dribbling the ball effortlessly past all the numerous hapless boys who were also much older than him. Like some magician!

Vyasa was right; these simpletons on this planet were really gullible.

Krishna was also big time into the fancy gadgets brought from our planet. Although he stayed with Nanda and Yashoda, he would visit me and Srishti in our secret settlement discreetly. This had become a regular feature now. Thankfully, this had calmed Srishti down to a large extent and she was less harsh on herself for letting me use our baby Krishna for this crazy plan, but my relationship with her continued to be as cold as ever.

The mother and son were always seen intensely doing something on her handheld tablet. Whenever I approached them, the window they were looking at on the tablet was immediately minimized. Srishti used to be a computer engineer back home.

Krishna was also groomed and trained under the guidance of Vyasa. He was made to relentlessly watch, listen to, and read various visual, audio and reading materials that were brought from our planet. This even included my personal favorite, the Blu-rays of B R Chopra’s twentieth century Indian TV series of Mahabharata based on the great Indian epic which we were trying to restage here. To his credit, Krishna was an amazingly quick learner and would learn a new trick from my crew members everyday, which he would then use to show off to his simpleton village friends.

Apart from Yashoda and the women of all age groups, his biological mother Srishti would also pamper him with plenty of sweets, chocolates, and lots of hugs and kisses. Krishna also went to graze cows with his village friends and off late, he had taken a special liking for flavored yoghurt produced from local cows’ milk although Srishti claims he loves Swiss chocolates more. Krishna was easily the most sought after cowboy of Gokul.

We would communicate with Krishna, through a radio trans-receiver phone discreetly hidden behind a peacock feather placed on his head when he was not around us. This peacock feather unwittingly ended up suiting him so much that he came to be identified with his feather in Gokul.

Once while playing soccer with his friends, the ball fell off the cliff into the river Yamuna. Before anybody could react, Krishna had already taken a fifty-feet dive and plunged into the water but then did not come up. We all panicked when there was no trace of him for a long time and I did not dare go anywhere near Srishti. I, for one, knew Krishna could swim but his disappearance did make me panic. He then almost gave me a heart attack when he emerged from the river holding the head of a king cobra in his right hand a few minutes later. The cobra was very much alive but did not show any intention of fighting back. It seemed that even the snake was in a state of complete trance in the presence of Krishna like all the villagers.

I do not know what advanced technique Vyasa was using to train him, but Krishna surely was exceeding my expectations in his role as the next big thing on this planet, the Vishnu avatar.

There were also a few rumors that Krishna was not one person but two! Many villagers had confirmed that Krishna could be seen at two different places at the same time. Vyasa had vehemently denied this, but it was difficult to believe him.

On a lighter note though, I used to think that if Vyasa was so hell-bent on restaging this epic chapter by chapter, he would soon have to create 15,999 more clones of Krishna!!

Another strange incident comes to my mind. One day in Gokul at his adopted parents’ place, Krishna was secretly gorging on some of his favorite Swiss chocolates brought from earth. He was so engrossed in devouring them that he did not realize that his adopted mother Yashoda was watching him with horror. His cheeks and mouth had become dirty brown which Yashoda mistook as mud. We could see from the camera fitted in the peacock feather that she had lost her temper seeing his condition. She chided him and twisted his ears for eating soil. Krishna on his part completely denied that he had eaten mud.

An angry Yashoda had heard enough and yelled at him to open his mouth. She was so loud that we could hear her even without the trans-receiver.

Krishna reluctantly opened his mouth and Yashoda fainted.

1

Chapter

India Calling

For some reason, I had always imagined a cobra to be only blackish or brownish in color. At least that is what they show in the Bollywood movies or in those National Geographic documentaries, don’t they? That was also how it used to appear in my recurring dreams since my childhood!

But this reptile was unmistakably goldish in color, not even yellow; but, it had some divine look. It was not more than a year old going by its length. It was right in front of me when I opened my door. It hissed very loudly as though I had intruded into its private space. To further confirm which species it belonged to, it then raised its hood. Just like in my dreams.

I did the best thing I could think of and headed for the nearest exit. I ran like hell.

My heartbeat was so loud that even my neighbors could have heard it. I immediately called 911. They were at my doorstep in no time. They asked me repeatedly whether it was indeed a cobra as it was very unlikely to find one in this country. They searched the entire house but found nothing.

Where did it disappear? It was very much there in my living room. This time I was very sure it was not a dream. They left giving me the benefit of doubt as I held a respectable position in the society. I was employed by NASA.

The officer did leave a sarcastic racist message before going. “Mr Rao, go back to India if you want to find a real cobra.”

I always had a decent sense of humor and tolerance for such racist comments. But his seemingly harmless comment struck me hard though. INDIA! The name I had slowly erased from my memory. The country brings back such wonderful memories from my childhood but whatever I am today would be an antithesis to all those magical memories and experiences.

But in retrospect, am I not thankful to my father for taking that life-turning decision to relocate to the USA when I was about nine? Until then, I had spent my childhood in the Indian city of Bengaluru which used to be officially known as Bangalore back then. The sleepy city full of gardens was known for its pleasant weather, friendly people, and the emerging IT industry.

Where did this snake disappear? Did I really see it? Why do I keep seeing it in my dreams? Was today also a dream then? I sometimes wonder if I am living in an unreal world these days. My recurring dreams and today’s unexplained incident should surely have something to do with India as the officer said. Is my India calling?

2

Chapter

Disillusioned God

I, Arjuna, am staring at the water container below me with a bow in my hand, ready to release the arrow. I am aiming at the revolving dead fish above my head by looking at its reflection below. This is not any ordinary practice session with my beloved guru Dronacharya. This is Draupadi’s Swayamvara or the contest to win Panchala princess Draupadi’s hand and I am participating in this contest on behalf of my brothers disguised as a Brahmin.

A few minutes earlier, all the so-called warriors in and around this kingdom had unsuccessfully attempted to lift the bow from its resting position, let alone taking a shot and killing the dead fish except for one fellow, Karna, Duryodhana’s best friend.

Karna had surprised everyone earlier by becoming the only person to lift the bow successfully and began to tie its string. It was just a matter of time before he won Draupadi’s hand. I had resigned to my fate. But rather dramatically, as he was about to take the shot at the dead fish, to everybody’s shock, Draupadi asked him to withdraw from the contest. Karna was taken aback and asked her the reason. She said with utmost conviction that he could not win her hand as he was born to lesser parents. Apparently!

This had then paved the way for me disguised as a Brahmin to do the rest.

I could lift this bow easily with no sweat or effort since I was the son of Lord Badal/Indra—the rain god, along with being the multi-talented personality and the world’s best archer. After lifting this bow from its resting position, the rest was just a formality as any good archer worth his salt would concede that taking aim at the dead fish was something you would do easily even if you are woken up at the middle of the night from deep sleep. Lifting the bow was the difficult part!

As flattering as it might be, unlike all these idiots who put up such a lousy show earlier, I could have easily lifted this bow with even my little finger. But who exactly am I fooling here?

I have been hearing this thing from everyone since my childhood days, something that my mother is extremely proud of. My brothers and I are supposed to be the sons of gods. All I know about my father was that he was supposedly the rain god and I am named after some famous cricketer in his planet who himself was a son of a legendary cricketer.

Since I was born to a sky god himself I am supposed to be god-like too, if not god. Hence, it is one of the main reasons I am the world’s best archer on this planet. I do feel I am more gifted and also have the ability to think much more differently and intelligently than most of the simpletons in our planet. But I stopped making a big deal of me being god-like a long time ago.

For one, I am damn sure if I were this god, my shit would never stink; in fact need not have to shit at all in the first place!

Even this Swayamvara or the contest is made to look like some closely contested competition where all the warriors who have gathered here are made to believe that they have an equal chance at winning Draupadi’s hand. In reality, this is exclusively designed to be won by only one among us five Pandavas.

We Pandavas are believed to have been burnt alive after the house, we were staying in temporarily, was found to be in ashes, and six burnt bodies were recovered from that site. Everybody including my granduncle Bhishma and uncle Dritharashtra assumed it was the bodies of us five Pandavas and our mother Kunti. What they did not know that we were tipped off at the right time by our uncle Vidhura that this place we were living in was a trap laid by my cunning cousin Duryodhana to burn us alive.

Since then we have been living in disguise as Brahmins. I have been reliably informed that Draupadi’s father only wanted me as his son-in-law for a long time as he was impressed with my god-like abilities too, just like everyone else. He secretly hoped and prayed that we were still alive. Hence, he arranged this cleverly devised contest.

On the surface, it looked like anybody could win Draupadi’s hand but only the insiders knew that the bow is an advanced weapon which is biometrically protected and could be unlocked only if it matched the fingerprints of one of the descendants of sky gods or, in other words, us the Pandavas. Either me or any of my four brothers!

No wonder, not a single prince or king from the entire Bharat who had assembled here could even lift the bow, let alone, take an aim at that fish. Not that the bow weighed like one ton! Once you get to know the secret, magic is no longer fun.

But what is a big mystery to me and I am sure for Vyasa grandpa as well is, how the hell could that low-birth Karna fellow successfully lift this bow? This was not the first time this fellow has gotten into trouble, though. I have been following his professional growth personally. As they say, know your enemies more closely than your friends. Even when he was a student of the great Parashuram whom the locals believed to be a Vishnu avatar himself, he was asked to discontinue his studies abruptly as Parashuram easily found out that he was not an ordinary guy like the other locals, as his immunity could easily withstand the deathly sting of a local bee. They say no local being could have survived that sting.

There is definitely something fishy about this guy. If he could lift the bow so easily, then it only means that he is also the son of some sky god. Then why do they say his parents are of some lower birth?