Shiva too repeated Nandi’s cry, signifying Glory to Lord Ram. ‘Jai Shri Ram.’

Having left their horses at the government authorised crossing-house, they crossed the river Ravi, close to Hariyupa, or the City of Hari. Shiva lingered there admiring Hariyupa at a slight distance, while his soldiers waited just beyond his shadow, having mounted their freshly allocated horses from the crossing-house on the other side of the Ravi. Hariyupa was a much larger city than Srinagar and seemed grand from the outside. Shiva thought seriously about exploring the magnificent city but that would have meant a delay in the trip to Devagiri. Next to Hariyupa, Shiva saw a construction project being executed. A new platform was being erected as Hariyupa had grown too populous to accommodate everyone on its existing platform.

How the hell do they raise these magnificent platforms?

Shiva made a mental note to visit the construction site on his return journey. At a distance, Jattaa, the captain of the river crossing house, was talking to Nandi while he was about to climb the platform to mount his fresh horse.

‘Avoid the road via Jratakgiri,’ advised Jattaa. ‘There was a terrorist attack there last night. All the Brahmins were killed and the village temple was destroyed. The terrorists escaped as usual before any backup soldiers could arrive.’

‘When in Lord Agni’s name will we fight back? We should attack their country!’ snarled a visibly angry Nandi.

‘I swear by Lord Indra, if I ever find one of these Chandravanshi terrorists, I will cut his body into minute pieces and feed it to the dogs,’ growled Jattaa, clenching his fists tight.

‘Jattaa! We are followers of the Suryavanshis. We cannot even think of barbaric warfare such as that!’ said Nandi.

‘Do the terrorists follow the rules of war when they attack us? Don’t they kill unarmed men?’

‘That does not mean that we can act the same way, Captain. We are Meluhans!’ said Nandi shaking his head.

Jattaa did not counter Nandi. He was distracted by Shiva still waiting at a distance. ‘Is he with you?’ he asked.

‘Yes.’

‘He doesn’t wear a caste amulet. Is he a new immigrant?’

‘Yes.’ replied Nandi, getting uncomfortable answering questions about Shiva.

‘And you’re going to Devagiri?’ asked an increasingly suspicious Jattaa, looking harder towards Shiva’s throat. ‘I’ve heard some rumours coming from Srinagar...’

Nandi interrupted Jattaa suddenly. ‘Thank you for your help, Captain Jattaa.’

Before Jattaa could act on his suspicions, Nandi quickly climbed the platform, mounted his horse and rode towards Shiva. Reaching quickly, he said, ‘We should leave, my Lord.’

Shiva wasn’t listening. He was perplexed once again as he saw the proud Captain Jattaa on his knees. Jattaa was looking directly at Shiva with his hands folded in a respectful namaste. He appeared to be mumbling something very quickly. Shiva couldn’t be sure from that distance, but it seemed that the Captain was crying. He shook his head and whispered, ‘Why?’

‘We should go, my Lord,’ repeated Nandi, a litde louder.

Shiva turned to him, nodded and kicked his horse into action.

Shiva looked to his left as he rode on the straight road, observing Nandi goading his valiant horse along. He turned around and was not surprised to see his three bodyguard soldiers riding at exactly the same distance as before. Not too close, and yet, not too far. He glanced back at Nandi, suspicious that the jewellery Nandi wore was not merely ornamental. He wore two amulets on his thick right arm. The first one had some symbolic lines which Shiva could not fathom. The second one appeared to have an animal etching. Probably a bull. One of his gold chains had a pendant shaped like a perfectly circular sun with rays streaming outwards. The other pendant was a brown, elliptical seed-like object with small serrations all over it.

‘Can you tell me the significance of your jewellery or is that also a state secret?’ teased Shiva.

‘Of course I can, my Lord,’ replied Nandi earnestly. He pointed at the first amulet that had been tied around his massive arm with a silky gold thread. This is the amulet which represents my caste. The lines drawn on it are a symbol of the shoulders of the Parmatma, the almighty. This means that I am a Kshatriya.’

‘I am sure there are clearly codified guidelines for representing the other castes as well.’

‘Right you are, my Lord. You are exceptionally intelligent.’

‘No, I am not. You people are just exceptionally predictable.’

Nandi smiled as Shiva continued. ‘So what are they?’

‘What are what, my Lord?’

‘The symbols for the Brahmins, Vaishyas and Shudras.’

Well, if the lines are drawn to represent the head of the Parmatma, it would mean the wearer is a Brahmin. The symbol for a Vaishya would be the lines forming a symbol of the thighs of the Parmatma. And the feet of the Parmatma on the amulet would make the wearer a Shudra.’

‘Interesting,’ said Shiva with a slight frown. ‘I imagine most Shudras are not too pleased about their placement.’

Nandi was quite surprised at Shiva’s comments. He couldn’t understand why a Shudra would have a problem with this long ordained symbol. But he kept quiet for fear of disagreeing with his Lord.

‘And the other amulet?’ asked Shiva.

‘This second amulet depicts my chosen-tribe. Each chosen-tribe takes on jobs which fit its profile. Every Meluhan, under the advice of their parents, applies for a chosen-tribe when they turn twenty—five years old. Brahmins choose from birds, while Kshatriyas apply for animals. Flowers are allocated to Vaishyas while Shudras must choose amongst fishes. The Allocation Board allocates the chosen-tribe on the basis of a rigorous examination process. You must qualify for a chosen-tribe that represents both your ambitions and skills. Choose a tribe that is too mighty and you will embarrass yourself throughout your life if your achievements don’t measure up to the standards of that tribe. Choose a tribe too lowly and you will not be doing justice to your own talents. My chosen-tribe is a bull. That is the animal that this amulet represents.’

‘And if I am not being rude, what does a bull mean in your rank of Kshatriya chosen-tribes?’

‘Well, it’s not as high as a lion, tiger or an elephant. But it’s not a rat or a pig either!’

‘Well, as far as I am concerned, the bull can beat any lion or elephant,’ smiled Shiva. And what about the pendants on your chain?’

‘The brown seed is a representation of the last Mahadev, Lord Rudra. It symbolises the protection and regeneration of life. Even divine weapons cannot destroy the life it protects.’

‘And the Sun?’

‘My Lord, the sun represents the fact that I am a follower of the Suryavanshi kings — the kings who are the descendants of the Sun’

‘What? The Sun came down and some queen...’ teased an incredulous Shiva.

‘Of course not, my Lord,’ laughed Nandi. ‘All it means is that we follow the solar calendar. So you could say that we are the followers of the “path of the sun”. In practical terms it denotes that we are strong and steadfast. We honour our word and keep our promises even at the cost of our lives. We never break the law. We deal honourably even with those who are dishonourable. Like the Sun, we never take from anyone but always give to others. We sear our duties into our consciousness so that we may never forget them. Being a Suryavanshi means that we must always strive to be honest, brave and above all, loyal to the truth.’