the immortal of maluha

Shiva and Nandi entered the royal private office to find Emperor Daksha sitting on a simple
throne at the far end of the modesdy furnished room, flanked by a man and a woman.
Daksha, greeting Shiva with a formal namaste, said. ‘I hope your journey was comfortable.’
He looked too young to be an emperor of such a large country. Though he was marginally
shorter than Shiva, the major difference between them was the musculature. While the
strapping Shiva was powerfully built, Daksha’s body showed that it had not been strained by
too much exercise. He wasn’t obese either. Just average. The same could be said about his
wheatish complexioned face. Average sized, dark eyes flanked a straight nose. He wore his
hair long like most Meluhan men and women. The head bore a majestic crown with the sun
symbol of the Suryavanshis manifested in the centre through sparkling gem stones. An elegant
dhoti, with an angvastram hung down the right shoulder and a large amount of functional
jewellery, including two amulets on his right arm, complemented Daksha’s average appearance.
His only distinguishing feature was his smile — which spread its innocent conviction all the way
to his eyes. Emperor Daksha looked like a man who wore his royalty lightly.
‘Yes it was, your highness,’ replied Shiva. The infrastructure in your empire is wonderful.
You are an extraordinary emperor.’
‘Thank you. But I only deserve reflected credit. The work is done by my people,’
‘You are too modest, your Highness.’
Smiling politely, Daksha asked, ‘May I introduce my most important aides?’ Without waiting
for an answer, he pointed to the woman on his left, ‘This is my prime minister, Kanakhala. She
takes care of all administrative, revenue and protocol matters.’
Kanakhala did a formal namaste to Shiva. Her head was shaved except for a tuft of smooth
hair at the back which had been tied in a knot. She had a string called the janau tied across
from her left shoulder down to the right side of her torso. She looked young like most
Meluhans, but was a little overweight as was clearly evident from the excess flesh she bore
between the white blouse and dhoti. She had a dark and incredibly smooth complexion and like
all her countrymen, wore jewellery that was restrained and conservative. Shiva noticed that the
second amulet on Kanakhala’s arm showed a pigeon. Not a very high chosen-tribe amongst the
Brahmins. Shiva bent low and did a formal Namaste in reply.
Pointing to his right, Daksha said, ‘And this is my chief of the armed forces, General
Parvateshwar. He looks after the army, navy, special forces, police etc’
Parvateshwar looked like a man that Shiva would think twice about taking on in a battle. He
was taller than Shiva and had an immensely muscular physique that dominated the space
around him. His curly and long hair had been combed fastidiously and fell neady from under his
crown. His smooth, swarthy skin was marked by the proud signs of long years in battle. His
body was hairless, in a rare departure from the normally hirsute Kshatriya men who took body
hair to be a sign of machismo. Probably to make up for this deficiency, Parvateshwar
maintained a thick and long moustache which curled upwards at the edges. His eyes reflected
his uncompromisingly strong and righteous character. The second amulet on his arm showed
Parvateshwar as a tiger, a very high chosen-tribe amongst the Kshatriyas. He nodded curdy at
Shiva. No Namaste. No elaborate bow of his proud head. Shiva, however, smiled warmly and
greeted Parvateshwar with a formal Namaste.
‘Please wait outside, Captain,’ advised Parvateshwar, looking at Nandi.
Before Nandi could respond, Shiva cut in. ‘My apologies. But is it alright if Nandi stays here