The Divine Mystery

By Santosh Kiro

A mysterious phenomenon strikes a forested hamlet inhabited by tribal people. A scientific organisation in Mumbai thinks that studying the phenomenon may open up floodgates of knowledge to some new source of energy. It commissions Veer, a brilliant but agnostic young scinetist, who since childhood has been getting unfathomable weird dreams of a village, to collect samples.
When Veer prepares to go back after collecting samples, another mysterious incident takes place, this time with himself. Awed but thrilled, he postpones his return journey and upon initial probing, finds that Lord Hanuman once roamed about in this hamlet. Veer sets out on a long journey to unearth his mysterious childhood dreams which, he now is sure, were actually linked with this village. As he delves in more, he comes across thrilling facts and myths on Hanuman, Lord Shiva, Linga and Yoni, all intricately linked with the tribal inhabitants here, and many of his childhood dreams start making sens. But what he finally discovers is a world beyond common beliefs

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing India
• Release date: Jul 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781482851656

Santosh Kiro

Santosh Kiro studied at St Xavier's College, Kolkata and Loyola College, Chennai. A former correspondent with The Telegraph, his articles have appeared in publications including Hindustan Times and The Pioneer. As a child, he grew up listening to rich stories from the Tribal World. The present work is an outcome of many years of his close association with unsung story tellers

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Copyright © 2015 by Santosh Kiro.

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Contents

The Secret Project

Anjan Village

The Burning Stone

Mission Accomplished

Ipil

The Saviour

The Cave

An Accident

The First Clue

The Experiments

Journey Through the Forest

The Killi

Mr Alex

The Munda Legacy

The Hunt

A Traitor

An Offer

An Important Decision

Dream Grounded

A Casual Visit

Mrs Argade

A Frightening Dream

The E-mail

A Re-birth

Your Loving Mother

Acknowledgments

Dr. Nitish Priyadarshi, a geologist friend, who inspired me to pen this novel.

My friend Kedar Anand, Times of India correspondent, who accompanied me to Anjan and spent many days among the villagers with me.

Gautam Kumar and Ananya Bose, for walking with me through this work.

Ayodhya Nath Mishra and Alok Ranjan for their valuable suggestions on Lord Hanuman.

S.C. Roy, for his book The Mundas and Their Country, Jagdish Tirgunayat for his Munda Lok-kathayen, Camile Bulke for his Ramkatha and Frits Staal for his Discovering the Vedas.

Vasavi, Sandeep, Rajendra, Ashish who helped me in various ways.

Thank you.

Fact:

During my work as a journalist, I came across a few Munda families with ‘Hanuman’ killi (gotra if loosely translated into Hindi or totem in English) and when I probed deeper, I found that this killi is rarest of the rare among tribes.

Prologue

‘V eer, Veer…’ he heard someone calling him.

Veer stopped abruptly and looked around. Leaving the village behind, he had been walking towards a hill and was passing by a tall, solitary tree that stood in a field, when he heard the voice.

‘Who is calling me and why?’ he thought.

When he saw no one, he started to walk away. He had barely taken a few steps when he heard the same voice again: ‘Veer…’ He looked around again, this time more intently, wanting to catch a glimpse of who was calling him. He scanned the base of the tree carefully, but when he couldn’t see anyone, he relaxed and walked past the tree.

Then he heard the same voice for the third time. Veer strained his ears, trying to ascertain the direction from where the voice came. With his eyes wide open, he looked to his right, to his left, and then behind him, but there was no one there. He set off again but this time he was more alert.

‘Welcome to Anjan Veer…’ the voice was clearer now. Veer stopped. He sensed that the voice was coming from above. He raised his eyes, trying to catch sight of the person who had been calling him so repeatedly.

‘I am happy that you have come to this land from so far off in search of the truth,’ the voice thundered, sending chilling tremors down his spine. Who is calling; and that too from above?

Although he was fearless by nature, panic overwhelmed him. The voice was now reverberating through the sky, almost deafening him.

‘Your quest for truth is a noble one and it will not go to waste. Truth will manifest itself, but you will have to persevere. Through you I will tell the truth to the entire world. First, I want to reveal something to you about an able son of mine, of whom nobody knows,’ the voice was distinct now.

Standing still, Veer gathered up all his courage and looked at the sky from where he had heard the voice. But before he could understand what was happening, a small whirlwind appeared a few metres away in the open field. With each passing second, it began to grow bigger and bigger. And within minutes, it had turned into a huge tornado, engulfing the entire area, the entire sky. A winged couple which was happily flying around romancing with one another, flew helter and skelter frantically yelling in fear, looking for a safer place.

Then, Veer saw an unimaginable scene—the Earth slowly stood up—a scene that Veer had never seen before even in his dreams.

‘I am the Earth,’ she roared like a tigress.

Without blinking Veer watched the display with awe. Then there was yet another frightening scene—the Earth started to move around, floating like a cloud in the sky.

‘What is this?’ Veer cried, unable to grasp what was unfolding before his eyes. He now spotted kamdhenu, the holy cow, descending from the clouds. Behind her stood a bull, his half-moon horns dazzling in the light.

The Earth roared again. ‘My son flew at will. No man equalled him in strength and speed. He was born in this village where you now stand, among the Mundas, the villagers here. I will reveal his story to you and to you alone. But, beware! You should not panic. You should not try to flee before I complete my revelations.’

The Earth’s roar continued to echo in Veer’s ears until he spotted a young man. Strong and muscular, he slowly appeared in the clouds where the Earth, the cow and the bull, waited. He carried a gada in his hand.

A few other equally strong men joined the young man. Some carried bows and arrows, others huge sharp axes. They seemed like acolytes of the young man and lined up one after the other forming an army, ready to lay their lives down in a battle.

The Earth, the cow and the bull blessed the young man and slowly started to vanish. Veer kept looking at them as they waved adieu.

‘I am going back, leaving my son with you,’ the Earth now whispered and smiled.

The young man, along with his followers, then started going around the village, inspecting each and every house. They made seven rounds of the village and when they were complete, there was thunder and lightning in the sky that lit up the entire area. The young man and his acolytes then flew away, leaving Veer behind.

The Secret Project

V eer Argade was listless when he woke up, he had a severe headache and his body was shivering with fear. He realized that it was a dream, or rather a nightmare, and just remembering it made him shudder. These dreams had been haunting him since childhood. They were, in fact, a weekly affair and though he could never recall them clearly, their horrific content would linger on through the day. Only an obscure view of a village, surrounded by dense forests, and a well-built man, whom the Earth would call her son, would flicker through his mind.

He rubbed his eyes forcefully, and yawned as he sat up on his bed. Stretching his hands above his head, he slowly got up from the bed, went to the window and looked outside. The sun was spreading its rays all around. Morning had arrived.

But before he could enjoy the soothing morning sunlight, he recalled that he had an important appointment today. He looked at the alarm clock on the table which he had set to wake him up at nine, but it was already ten. The clock too had gone to sleep, probably after trying hard to wake his master up an hour ago.

He cursed the alarm clock, ran into the bathroom. After a few minutes, he was hastily getting dressed. He had a meeting with his senior scientist and boss, Dr. Kanda. Hurriedly he combed his hair, threw his bag over his shoulders and was ready to depart.

‘Have your breakfast before you go,’ he heard his mother from the kitchen.

‘I am already late, Mother,’ he said.

‘No, you will have your breakfast first,’ his mother said, coming out of the kitchen with a plate of sandwiches in one hand and a glass of milk in the other.

Veer knew there was no way to escape. He placed his bag on the table and himself sat down on the chair, and started eating, almost gulping down his food impatiently. When he saw his mother retreat into the kitchen, he picked up the glass of milk and tiptoed to the flower pot she had placed in the courtyard. As he was about to pour the milk, he heard his mother shout from the kitchen, ‘Don’t even think of throwing it into the flower pot, you have to finish it’.

‘No, no Mother, I have already finished it,’ Veer replied quickly.

His mother knew him very well. On several occasions earlier, he had managed to give a slip to his mother by pouring down his glass of milk upon the flower pot. He sat down again and finished his breakfast. He then touched his mother’s feet as he always did before going off to work. His mother, placing her hands on his head, blessed him saying ‘May Lord Rama bless you.’

Six feet tall with thick black shining hair that accentuated the contours of his fair, clean-shaven face, Veer had often been told by his mother that he looked very much like his father when he was in his late twenties. And today, while he was touching his mother’s feet, his father’s face flashed through his mind again and again.

The auto-rickshaw was stuck in the traffic and it was raining heavily. He wouldn’t be able to make it on time. His cell phone rang and the screen flashed a cute picture of Jaya. Does she have to call now when I am rushing? He thought of snubbing Jaya but he had never learnt to be rude to women. Besides, he thought of her more as a sister than a friend, and she was getting married to his friend, Vijay.

He picked up the phone, trying to calm his mind.

‘Hello Veer, my wedding date has been finalized,’ said Jaya, excitedly.

‘Wow great! When is it?’ Veer asked.

‘Exactly a month from today,’ she said.

‘Congrats!’ Veer said, trying to bring a smile on his face.

‘Okay. I am in a hurry today. So, see you tomorrow,’ he said, disconnecting the phone.

A street divided Veer’s house from Jaya’s and the two knew each other since childhood. As children they went to the same school and their parents visited each other’s houses often. After schooling, Jaya had chosen to study English literature and as Veer had a dream to become a scientist, he studied science. Jaya had now grown into a tall young woman with deep blue twinkling eyes that were full of life. Vijay on the other hand had studied with Veer upto class XII and had later chosen to become an engineer. Later, Jaya’s parents had come to learn about Vijay who frequented Veer’s house, and had arranged her marriage with her.

The auto-rickshaw stopped in front of a huge ten-storey building. Veer paid the fare and ran towards the building, but even then he got drenched before he reached the elevator.

Veer, panting now, combed his hair with his fingers. The elevator came to a halt on the seventh floor; he got off and walked towards Dr Kanda’s office.

Dr Kanda’s secretary smiled when she saw him in his wet clothes.

‘You know the rains of Mumbai; they can surprise you,’ he said with a sly grin.

‘He is waiting for you. You may go in.’

‘May I come in Sir?’ Veer asked, pushing the door.

Dr. Kanda was a serious looking, middle-aged man. His hair was greying, but he looked fit. Adjusting his spectacles, he glanced towards the door and immediately stood up.

‘What took you so long my boy? Come in,’ he said.

After they were seated, Dr. Kanda continued, ‘Veer you’re the most energetic and curious scientist I have seen in my entire professional life’.

Veer was overwhelmed by the praise. ‘It’s because of your generosity Sir.’

‘Veer, I’ve called you today to tell you something that I cannot share with anyone else,’ Kanda said putting his hands on the table, leaning forward.

‘Two days ago my childhood friend and now the Inspector General of Police in Ranchi, Raghav Singh, called me. One of his informers had told him about a very curious event that had occurred in the tribal village of Anjan. It appears that a hot crystal stone has mysteriously sprung up from the ground there, sandwiched between two shivalingas. It’s so hot that it has burnt all the vegetation within ten metres of its radius, including a few male goats and a huge tree. I’ve told him to keep it a secret and not to spread it to the media,’ Kanda said.

Veer was confused and asked, ‘But why are we keeping it a secret, Sir?’

‘I don’t want the media to know about this. The village lies in a region which is under Naxal threat. If they come to know about it, they would sensationalize it just as they do with every silly incident and it will be very difficult for us to carry out our project.’

‘What kind of project, Sir?’ Veer asked.

‘I’ve never seen or heard about such an event in my entire life. I’m pretty sure the crystal stone is a new element,’ Dr Kanda replied.

‘You mean to say that it could be an element which has not been discovered yet?’ Veer said. He was awestruck and his curiosity was getting intense every time Dr Kanda spoke a word.

‘Yes. And therefore I want you to go to that village, collect a sample and send it to me. I will test it and find out what it is,’ Kanda said.

‘But, why are you assigning this project to me, Sir? And that too on my own,’ Veer asked, getting more and more intrigued.

‘It is a dangerous project Veer, and I want my best scientist to handle it. I can only count on you,’ Kanda said.

Veer was silent but his mind raced.

‘Veer my boy, this is a lifetime opportunity for you, one that will immortalize your name as one of the greatest scientists ever born,’ Kanda said looking straight into Veer’s eyes.

*

His mother’s eyes were moist and so were his. After his father’s death in a car accident when he was just ten years old, his mother had taken care of him. She had given him the love of both a father and a mother. Strict like a father and caring like a mother, she would slap him for his mistakes and sing lullabies to soothe him when he would wake up in the middle of the night after a nightmare. Many times, they would both cry together remembering his father. Today, her tears were limitless.

‘Mother, if you don’t want me to go, I won’t,’ he said, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

‘No Veer, you must go. To reveal important secrets, one has to undertake a big quest. I don’t want to be a hurdle in your path. You are destined to be great Veer. Your father would be so proud of you,’ she said, looking intently at her son whom she was sending off to a distant, unknown and dangerous place.

‘But remember one thing, take care of yourself, for your mother won’t be there to stop you from pouring a glass of milk into a flower pot!’ she said and they both smiled blearily.

‘I’ll come back running as soon my work is finished,’ he consoled her.

‘No, don’t come running, Ranchi is very far from Mumbai,’ she said, cracking a little joke, watching her son give a last smile before he left for his mission.

‘You are a big boy now Veer, but remember you have to be safe, for when I lost your father I had only you, but if I lose you…’

‘Mother, I will come back soon,’ he said touching her feet. She put both her hands on his head and blessed him.

**

Anjan Village

‘D rive slowly. Drive slowly,’ Veer instructed his driver Sambhu. The two of them were travelling on the Ranchi-Gumla Road. The young scientist, Veer Argade, had arrived in Ranchi from the National Atomic Research Centre, Mumbai. From Mumbai, Veer had taken an Air India flight and landed at Birsa Munda Airport in Ranchi. The airport had been named after Birsa, who in the 1890s had taken up bows and arrows and engaged the mighty British at Dombari Buru near Khunti, a place that lay about 60 kilometres to the east of Ranchi.

He had been given a car and a driver, Sambhu, by the Deputy Commissioner of Ranchi district. It was another matter that the tiny vehicle every now and then produced farting sounds and exhaled heavily from its butt, so much so that even its larger, muscled brothers did not dare venture too close. But Sambhu was used to the music and when he drove other less noisy vehicles, he always felt uneasy, just like the fisherwoman who when given a room for the night by a florist, could not sleep saying that the