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The Story of Sadhu Gandhara (Part 2)
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Thursday, Feb 18, 2010
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Chapter 10 (Part 2 of 4 )- Story of Sadhu Gandhara, Explorer, Lover, Reformer, Warrior & Chief of Afghanistan
Frontiers of Bharat Varsha (5,000 BCE) With account of how Afghanistan (Avagana) became a part of Bharat Varsha
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Selected extracts from Return of the Aryans by Bhagwan S. Gidwani, published by Penguin Books, India, ISBN 0-14- 024053 - 5
(Main Reference Pages: 223 to 255; 257 to 258 from Return of the Aryans)
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There was no nervousness in the youth.
'Most respected Karkartaji! Let your Resolution say what is unsaid there but what was obviously in your heart. I propose therefore, honoured Karkartaji, that to your Resolution, let another thought be added, as an overriding condition, in the following words :
'We go on this quest of exploration and discovery of Avagana and elsewhere, not for economic benefits of profit to the clan, but because we recognize the moral and spiritual bond with the earth.
'This moral and spiritual bond can never permit us to dispossess the land of another or to hold anyone in captivity or to take undue advantage of the lands that we explore and discover.
'To those who may fail to understand our impulses and emotions in embarking on these quests, we declare that we regard that Mother Earth is the real presence and that we are only a small part of its children. We go therefore in the spirit of humanity's humble relationship with its entire environment and the greater universe.
'Thus we go with clean hands and the cry of peace in our hearts.
'Therefore any person who joins expeditions for explorations, takes an oath, permanently binding upon himself and those that come after him, to abide by the policy of Karkarta's Resolution and the four conditions which are recited therein.'
Dhrupatta shouted 'I agree'; even though it was undignified for Karkarta to display such haste in accepting amendments. Spectators broke into applause. Those from the Sahiti region, from which the youth had been elected, would not stop applauding. Even some Assembly members joined in the applause.
The applause took a long time to subside. Dhrupatta looked at the youth fondly and asked if he had more to say.
'Yes, respected Karkartaji, I was waiting to thank you for your kindness in permitting me to speak.' For no reason whatsoever, this wholly innocent remark led to renewed applause.
Dhrupatta could not have asked for a better ally to ram his Resolution through. The youth's good looks, his demeanor, and his ignorance of procedure, were themselves an asset. Maybe, he would have ignored if it had not been his maiden speech. Maybe, he would have been ignored if his father had not died recently. Maybe . . . but the fact is, he spoke elegantly and carried the crowds with him.
The youth's debut which delighted Dhrupatta, caused agony to those who were of Nandan's opinion. Nandan did not want to oppose Dhrupatta openly. Nor would he dignify the youth by debating with him. He was, after all, the Council head. He whispered to his neighbour Sahaji.
Three speakers had the floor before Sahaji. Each complimented the youth for his historic contribution which they strongly supported.
It was then Sahaji's turn. Dhrupatta expected fireworks. Slowly, Sahaji surveyed the Assembly, and his gaze rested on the youth from Sahiti. Then he spoke : 'I heard with wonder, Karkarta's Resolution. With even greater wonder, I heard the amendments of the member from . . . . from . . .' he paused as though to leave the insulting impression that the member was unknown. But as he paused, the crowd itself roared 'Sahiti, Sahiti' making it clear that they knew the member, even if he did not. Dhrupatta took no steps, as the presiding officer should, to restore silence while the crowd kept up the chant.
Nandan groaned in spirit. He knew that the insult which flies off its course, returns to haunt its source.
Sahaji reddened. Some Assembly members who forgot, for the moment, what the decorum of the august body should be, were even laughing.
Sahaji resumed his speech but without his usual flourish. Lamely, he asked : 'Can the member form Sahiti explain how he expects oaths and acts of the members of an expedition to bind future Karkartas and Assemblies!'
Dhrupatta, as presiding officer, was prepared to answer. He did not want the youth to be grilled and, in any case, no member could demand an answer from another member. Karkarta and Council Chiefs were obliged to answer questions but not ordinary members. But the irrepressible youth from Sahiti rose, in the belief that the responsibility to answer lay with him. With a sigh, Dhrupatta addressed him, 'You do not have to respond to questions unless you specially wish to.'
The youth declared : 'Respected Sahaji, how can I even accept the view that future generations would be so misguided as to remove the moral basis of our exploration! Has it not been said in the Memory song - the 'Song of the Hindu' - inspired by the illustrious Karkarta Bharatji, that 'a Hindu must grow and evolve, with all that is good in the past, with all this is good in the present, and with all goodness that future ages shall bring. . . .'
Spectators went into riotous applause - some as they remembered Bharat; others because the 'Song of the Hindu' was close to their hearts; and those from Sahiti were prepared to applaud their own, all the way. Again Dhrupatta failed to silence the spectators. The youth resumed :
"But honoured Karkarta, I appreciate Sahaji's fear. Things happen. Events evolve. People change. Memories fade. I submit, therefore, let your Resolution, with all that has been said here, be remembered in the Memory song . . . . .'
Again the crowds misbehaved and cheered wildly. They loved the idea of the Memory song.
But Sahaji shouted, 'How . . . how . . . how can you have a Memory song?'
The youth apparently misunderstood and innocently asked Dhrupatta, 'Respected Karkartaji, are there limits to what this Assembly can recommend? Is it beyond our competence to suggest a Memory song?'
Sahaji felt his blood pressure rise, while patiently, Dhrupatta explained that no limits existed to the Assembly's powers to evolve any recommendations, unless it was, 'physically impossible or morally untenable', and he wondered, at length, how a Memory song could be treated as having those defects! The crowd went berserk with applause.
It was Devaji who rose to clarify that Sahaji was questioning not the Assembly's competence but the need for a Memory song.
'The need for such a Memory song!' The youth shot up again, like a loose arrow. 'But there was wisdom in Sahaji's words. How else do we keep the future with us? Did not Karkarta Bharat say : "A Memory song penetrates to the depths of our feelings. Let it also penetrate to the depths of ithihasa? . . . ."'
There was no need to say more. The applause was unending. At last, Dhrupatta simply announced, 'There shall be a Memory song on today's proceedings, unless anyone cares to oppose it; and in that case we shall put the matter to vote. Any opposition?'
There was none. Who wants a Memory song to eternally indicate his name as the one who opposed it!
Nandan allowed his thoughts to wander. Enough damage was done by Sahaji and Devaji and he had been the one to encourage them. He was sure that but for that young fool's intervention, there would have been a sufficient minority to oppose the measure and thus lead to a demand for direct vote by the people. Such a demand required one-fifth of the Assembly members. But who would dare now, after all the theatrics of that young upstart from Sahiti, along with the threat of a Memory song! Dhrupatta had been smart to put the suggestion for a Memory song to the Assembly but that, Nandan realized, was the correct procedure, as all suggestions on the main Resolution had to be voted upon first.
But then, thought Nandan, it is not always necessary to win in order not to lose. Gracefully, he rose, 'It gives me pleasure to support Karkarta's Resolution.' Dhrupatta was grateful, but a trace of suspicion still lingered, as the opposition had come mostly from those known as Nandan's supporters. 'I thank you' Dhrupatta said, 'but the Resolution stands along with amendments proposed by the member from Sahiti, which I accepted.'
'It is because of those amendments, Karkarta,' replied Nandan, 'that my support for your Resolution is all the stronger.'
The Resolution, so reinforced, was adopted unanimously.
It is not easy to compose an inspiring Memory song about dry, drab Assembly debates. But the imagination of the composers soared to lofty heights when they sang of the moral and spiritual bond with the earth, as a basis for its exploration by man.
Someone gave out the story that Dhrupatta's father Gandhara was more than a sadhu and was the Chief of Chiefs of Avagana.
Many found it difficult to picture the sadhu as Chief. But then others questioned his credentials as a sadhu. He had admitted that he ate meat, though for years he had given it up. His occupation was to build huts, grow fruit trees, and indulge in earthy, material pursuits. In fact, till his dying day, his heart was set on teaching the arts of farming and cloth-making to the people of Avagana.
Apparently, he had not even tried to find out whether the people of Avagana believed in the gods of the Hindus!
Dhrupatta refused to confirm or deny any of this. 'All I know is that he was my father. If he was a sadhu, it is between him and the people. If he was a Chief, that too is a matter between him and the people of Avagana.'
Gossip was not uncommon. It was rumoured that Dhrupatta was going to Avagana, more for collecting his inheritance, than escorting his step-brother Kush. Dhrupatta laughed. His wife was hurt at such gossip. Dhrupatta laughed again but his wife could not be brushed aside lightly. And so he went to the extent of renouncing publicly in favour of his little brother, Kush, any shadowy claim that he might have had in Avagana.
Earlier Dhrupatta had thought only of Avagana. Now that the Parliament had adopted the Resolution, he felt encouraged to organize expedition to explore distant lands in seven different directions.
Dhrupatta's caravan left for Avagana. Kush was jubilant, though full of tears when parted from his many new-found relatives. But how would he carry all their gifts? No problem; his sister-in-law, Dhrupatta's wife, had brought two mules which she said, were gifts from two other mules - she was referring to her two grandsons.
The caravan had long lines of pack-animals with a vast variety of goods. Instead of the team of twelve, as originally planned, the expedition now had eighty-eight - mostly farmers, artisans, and pottery, textile and basket makers. There was also a Vaid (Doctor) and an artist to draw route-charts.
The journey, arduous though it was, continued uneventfully. At times the expedition was watched and even surrounded by force. But hostility melted as soon as the strangers saw Kush. Apparently, he was well-known, even though his own home was still far way. The locals treated Dhrupatta with utmost courtesy - not for his being the Karkarta of the Hindu clan, but as the elder son of Sadhu Gandhara.
Many in Dhrupatta's party began to believe that, indeed, stories of the sadhu being a chief were true! How else was little Kush treated with such courtesy! But it also seemed that there was no common chief. Friendly villagers would escort the party to the edge of their village but would never dare cross into another village.
There were, however, seven locals who joined them and went from village to village, fearlessly. They wore thongs around their necks like a garland. Dhrupatta asked Kush, who knew only a few words of his language. The boy, pointing to the thongs, simply said 'Hindu.'
Hindu! Dhrupatta wondered. All he understood was that these thong-wearers were his father's disciples and known as Hindus and somehow these thongs made them safe and inviolable in each village.
The artist sadly remarked on the fact that they had not seen a single woman on the way and was made great fun of, for this very pertinent observation.
The expedition, however, did see a woman in the next village.
She was horribly mutilated. Her tongue was torn out. Her nose, lips ears and breasts cut off. She was helplessly writhing in pain.
Dhrupatta's impulse was to rush to help her. But the men in his party, who wore thongs, blocked his way. Dhrupatta shouted, 'Why?'
The villagers wondered why this distinguished visitor was so excited; and once came to ask as much. He spoke to Kush and then to his people. One of them picked up a huge rock to smash it in the face of the writhing woman. Dhrupatta saw fragments of her skull scatter on the ground.
Later, Dhrupatta understood that their sense of hospitality made the locals comply with the plea to end the woman's suffering, though they thought the request was odd, and even unfair, in view of her offence.
What was her offence? Pregnancy, he was told. Simple. She was the wife of an impotent husband, so obviously it was a case of adultery. Why did an impotent man have a wife? Why not! He bought her, as he had bought three other wives; and now that one of his wives was killed he would buy one more. Was it not terrible to kill someone carrying a child? Certainly it was; but she was not carrying the child; she was killed after giving birth; the child was innocent; he did not share the mother's crime. What about her paramour who committed adultery? Oh, he belongs to our village and will pay for twelve years towards the upkeep of the child. What happens if he cannot pay? Then his family - his father, brothers, sons - must pay; after all the family is responsible for its members; if the family cannot, the entire village must pay, but surely, the aggrieved husband and the innocent child cannot suffer!
They realized, now, why women were not visible. Women were guarded, never permitted outside their caves. With some men holding more than four, five or more wives, many had none. No wonder, outsiders entering their village were presumed to be after their women. What else was there to steal? Intruders were therefore dealt with severely. The only exceptions were Gandhara 'Hindus' with thongs round their necks. But then they were under oath never to covet another man's woman - nor to have more than one wife.
As Dhrupatta's men trudged along the difficult terrain, they saw the horrifying spectacle of what the villagers did to intruders.
Two men had been caught. One had his limbs cut off and was awaiting death to release him from his agony. They would start on the second only after the first died but even so, his eyelids were cut, so that his eyes remained open to witness all that happened to the first victim.
The first victim died in agony. Dhrupatta wished they would spare the second man, not from death but from torture. The man deserved to die, for such was the law of their land. It was hardly relevant that in his own land of Hindu, the death penalty did not exist. But why inflict such brutality and gruesome torture!
Quietly, Dhrupatta went forward to present his sword to the man in charge of butchery. The man admired the shining sword. He touched its sharp edge. Dhrupatta cautioned him by a gesture. The man smiled unconcerned. His finger bled. Sadly, the man viewed his own stone axe and wooden dagger and smiled as though to compliment Dhrupatta on his sword. But Dhrupatta had not finished showing off. He touched the thick neck of the victim and gestured that with one stroke it would fly off. The Master of Ceremonies seemed to doubt it. The crowd challenged him to try. Dhrupatta again gestured to show how the stroke should be executed. As he stepped back, he saw gratitude in the victim's eyes.
With one broad, powerful sweep, the Master of Ceremonies wielded the sword. The neck flew up and then curved down, falling in the midst of the crowd. The unseeing eyes of the dead man were open; his lifeless face appeared as before, except that the lips were twisted. Dhrupatta was certain that the man grinned at the end, happy at his swift death. He wondered if the man smiled before his neck was severed or after, but he dared not ask the Vaid who would regard the question as frivolous. Indeed, the Vaid would have explained that the last lip movement of the dead man was his final prayer to God for forgiveness.
The Master of Ceremonies was triumphant and the crowd, impressed with the sword. But the ceremony continued. The dead man's limbs were cut off. The custom was inflexible. For those who came to steal their women, such dismemberment must take place, even after death.
After this gruesome deed, the man came to return the sword. Dhrupatta declined and with a sweeping gesture gifted it to the village.
The crowd was pleased and the Master of Ceremonies, delighted. He began swinging the sword, happy with its swishing sound and motion. But Dhrupatta pointed to the dead man, to clarify that it must be used only for enemies who stole their women. The crowd roared its approval.
Many gestures were then involved, for Dhrupatta to explain that dismemberment of limbs must take place after the neck is cut off, as this special sword was designed to smite a criminal in full possession of his limbs and senses, so that he felt the full fear of death.
The debate that followed was intense. What however tipped the balance in his favour was Dhrupatta's appeal to their sporting instincts. His gestures clarified that the neck would fly higher, faster and farther, if the criminal was not already wounded.
The decision, therefore, was clear. In future, limbs must be cut off only after the neck is severed with this mighty sword.
It was Vaid who later criticized Dhrupatta. 'You should have advised them not to take the man's life.'
'We did not come here to interfere with their laws.'
'No!' the Vaid was sarcastic. 'But you did interfere and change their ritual! And to bribe them, you gave them a sword, to kill instantly!'
'Only to teach them to take life humanely, if it must be taken.'
'Then be so kind as to not distribute swords elsewhere. Or soon, lives will be taken that need not be. What would prevent villages holding such swords to band together to steal other's women?'
'But Vaidji, the whole village was there! Everyone in that entire crowd understood the condition with which the sword was given!'
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'The entire crowd, yes; and crowds are always more dangerous, more fickle, more insane than the combined will of all its individuals.'
Dhrupatta thought of those simple, sincere people. Poor and primitive they were, yet with so deep a sense of hospitality! They had no guile or greed. Surely, these men of honour would keep their word.
It was Kush who spoke. He was trying to frame his sentence in words foreign to him and said, 'One man, one woman.' Dhrupatta appreciated his brother's effort to say that none should have more than one wife but the Vaid tried to spoil his pleasure by saying, 'Now there you have a boy with vision. He will be a leader of men.' This was the Vaid's way of saying that Dhrupatta himself was deficient. But Dhrupatta was delighted with the compliment to Kush. He remembered what Bharat used to say of this Vaid who was no respecter of persons - 'He is kind only to those who are in pain. The rest he ignores or chastises. Respect for status he has none. He sees too many men of status, naked and with all kinds of ailments and sores in their bodies and brains.'
They saw extreme poverty in the region. Rocky areas and deserts predominated. Vegetation was scanty. Patches of trees, here and there, were a bounty of nature, and there was no one trying to plant trees or tend the soil. Meat was their main diet, but with their primitive hunting implements, it was not easy to get a regular food supply; and people relied largely on mongoose, hedgehogs, bats, moles, rats and wild dogs.
The scene changed dramatically as they neared the town of Sadhu Gandhara's ashram. Here, beauty and bounty of nature were in abundance and people had laboured hard to assist nature. Avenues were lined with trees. From gardens along the way, they heard the sounds of birds. Some they even identified as pheasants, partridges, cranes, pelicans and parrots. There was hardly a man who did not wear a thong.
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