the immortal of maluha

‘Is it really so bad?’ asked the Pandit, his eyes narrowed and head tilted slightly, in the
typically Indian empathetic look.
Shiva shut his eyes and lowered his head again. The Pandit waited patiently for Shiva’s
reply. ‘You don’t know what I have done!’
‘I do know.’
Shiva looked up at the Pandit, his eyes full of surprise and shame.
‘I know what you have done, Oh Neelkanth,’ said the Pandit. ‘And I ask again, is it really so
bad?’
‘Don’t call me the Neelkanth,’ glared Shiva. ‘I don’t deserve the tide. I have the blood of
thousands on my hands.’
‘Many more than thousands have died,’ said the Pandit. ‘Probably hundreds of thousands.
But you really think they wouldn’t have died if you hadn’t been around? Is the blood really on
your hands?’
‘Of course it is! It was my stupidity that led to this war. I had no idea what I was doing. A
responsibility was thrust upon me and I wasn’t worthy of it! Hundreds of thousands have
perished as a result!’
Shiva curled up his fist and pounded his forehead, desperately trying to soothe the throbbing
heat on his brow. The Pandit stared in mild surprise at the deep red blotch on Shiva’s forehead,
right between his eyes. It didn’t bear the colour of a blood clot. It was a much deeper hue,
almost black. The Pandit controlled his surprise and remained silent. Now was not the correct
time.
‘And it’s all because of me,’ moaned Shiva, his eyes moistening again. ‘It’s all my fault.’
‘Soldiers are Kshatriyas, my friend,’ said the Pandit, a picture of calm. ‘Nobody forces them
to die. They choose their path, knowing the risks. And the possible glory that comes with it. The
Neelkanth is not the kind of person on whom responsibility can be thrust against his will. You
chose this. You were born for it.’
Shiva looked at the Pandit starded. His eyes seemed to ask, ‘Born for it?’
The Pandit ignored the question in Shiva’s eyes. ‘Everything happens for a reason. If you are
going through this turmoil, there is a divine plan behind it.’
‘What bloody divine reason can there be for so many deaths?’
‘The destruction of evil? Wouldn’t you say that is a very important reason?’
‘But I did not destroy evil!’ yelled Shiva. ‘These people aren’t evil. They’re just different.
Being different isn’t evil.’
The Pandit’s face broke into his typically enigmatic smile. ‘Exactly. They are not evil. They
are just different. You have realised it very quickly, my friend, a lot earlier than the previous
Mahadev.’
Shiva was perplexed by the Pandit’s words for an instant. ‘Lord Rudra?’
‘Yes! Lord Rudra.’
‘But he did destroy evil. He destroyed the Asuras.’
‘And, who said the Asuras were evil?’
‘I read it…’ Shiva stopped mid—sentence. He finally understood.
‘Yes,’ smiled the Pandit. ‘You have guessed it correctly. Just like the Suryavanshis and the
Chandravanshis see each other as evil, so did the Devas and the Asuras. So if you are going to
read a book written by the Devas, what do you think the Asuras are going to be portrayed as?’
‘You mean they were just like today’s Suryavanshis and Chandravanshis?’