Yuyudhana
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Highway-4 Vrindavan:
'So you're saying the Govardhan Parvatham is sitting on an ore bed of Syamantakas! Aiyya, no wonder Jarasandha wants to attack this place.' says Yuyudhana, finally comprehending Ananthaswami's prediction.
'That's not all; there have been many bad omens from all directions. We just had a landslide occur a month ago at Govardhan. We re-started the mining a fortnight ago,' the cart man said, pointing to the carriages traveling afar perpendicular to their path.
'Two days ago, the royal court performed an important Yagnya when a sudden messenger barged in. Krishna and Balarama left the Yagnya mid-way upon hearing the messenger. This in itself is a bad sign.'
'Why did they barge out?' Asked Yuyudhana.
'We have Yamuna and then the Panchal kingdom to our East with Gokul to our South East and Hastinapur to our North East. Let me tell you something Swami here hasn't mentioned. The rumor is that the messenger had brought the news of an attack on the Panchal forces by Shishupala,' said the cart man with anxiousness.
From the corner of his eyes, Yuyudhana could see a smile slip out of Anantha's face as he looked elsewhere, deep in thought.
'Swami! Why don't you predict my future? That could be more specific.'
The sadhu inspects the boy's hand and shakes his head.
'Mathura's future is better than yours, Appane. You will encounter danger very soon in Mathura,' said the sadhu almost teasingly.
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'O, that's easy to predict as well. Your troubles are probably at the immigration. Mathura's sudden prosperity in the last decade has attracted immigrants from far-off places. We are getting some bad apples as well. Immigration is very strict nowadays; if they find any mistakes in your documents, they will throw you in jail for life,' quipped the cart-man.
'Yes, Thambi! Based on the planetary positions, the danger awaits you when you enter Mathura'.
'Swami! There are dangers for everyone entering Mathura in the last two days. Since the Yagnya, there's been even more scrutiny by the immigration officers. What VISA are you on?' asks the cart-man mockingly.
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'I'm on the religious diplomat one, Aiyya. Immigration is just a formality for a messenger of lord Ram like me,' says Anantha hauntingly.
'Forgive me, Swami! Some emissaries indulge in more than what's necessary. This is why the Mathura National Guard has increased the bounty for tips on such suspicious characters. Forgive me for being rude, but commoners like us must be cautious,' says the cart-man.
The Ramanandi sadhu grew silent as they rode towards Mathura as the sun set.
'Aiyya! I'll get down here; my guru's house is a few minutes away. I'll rest for a while and enter Mathura tomorrow. It's getting dark.' says Anantha, quickly grabbing his belongings.
'But Swami, I thought I could tag along with you and meet Satrajit. It's easy to navigate a new city together,' said a worried Yuyudhana.
'Not to worry, child! I'll meet you tomorrow at Satrajit's place. Just be safe for tonight. Goodbye, Aiyya, thanks for dropping me here! Jai Shree Ram!'
'Jai Shree Ram, Swami! It was my duty. Don't worry, I'll take care of the boy,' said the cart-man.
Yuyudhana and the rider continued towards the west gate of the Mathura fort.
'Aiyya, what will the immigration officer ask at the gate? Can you help me prepare for this?'
'Which VISA are you on?'
'I'm on a student VISA.'
'They will scrutinize you more, Yuyudha. Mathura is overpopulated, and we don't want outsiders spoiling our culture. Keep all your documents ready, and they will try to probe your intentions' continued the cart-man.
'The National Guard consists of some of our best officers. They will outright reject you if they know you intend to settle here after your studies.'
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'Aiyya, as a student, I will live here for a decade. Doesn't it make sense for me to settle down in a place after I
get familiar living there?' asked Yuyudhana hopefully.
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'I don't know, appane, these rules were set during Kamsa's time. Ask him if you get to see him or ask that sadhu friend of yours. It is said that the officers at the gate have magical powers. You cannot lie to them; they can see through your thoughts, and once they find out you are lying, they will send you to the mines in Govardhan, so don't lie, and did I tell you to keep all your documents?' said the cart-man.
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Yuyudhana was visibly anxious. He remembered that night in Bajra a fortnight ago. His parents were happy when they heard from the postman that the great Satrajit of Mathura had admitted their son. The family hosted a feast for all the Vrishnis in the settlement. He remembered his father's words as he bid farewell; 'Make us proud, son. Settle down in Mathura and help me retire down in my hometown.'
Thoughts of the hard life at Bajra for his fellow Vrishni brought sadness to the young Yuyudhana. However, the first hurdle on his way was the immigration check at Mathura. He looks up as the sun sets and prays for the Ikshvaku to help him settle down in Mathura and bring his parents back to their hometown. All along, the warnings of the cart-man and the Swami's predictions made him anxious.
'Yuyudha, we're here. There's a queue to the left for new immigrants. I'll take leave here; I must go through the right entrance,' said the cart-man.
'Aiyya, I don't know if we'll see each other again to pay my respects, but thank you for the ride'
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'Son, it's my duty to welcome you to my city. Stay safe and remember that not every Ram bhakt is to be trusted, nor is every Shiv bhakt to be doubted. I'm sure we'll meet again.' said the cart man as he rode off.
'Duty?' wondered Yuyudhana.
Yuyudhana walks to the immigration queue. Juggling his bag slung over his shoulder and gathering all his documents, he inches closer to the immigration counter as the tremble in his hand grows. Finally, it is now his turn.
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'Son, where are you from, and what is the purpose of your visit?' asks the sturdy Immigration officer with a tone that conveyed a man tired of his 9-5 job.
A flutter of papers scatters the room as Yuyudhana murmurs syllables, trying to gather the documents as he recovers from the tremble in his hand. 'I'm Yuyudhana from the Vrishni settlement in Bajra; I'm 19 years old and a pure vegetarian. Occasionally eat eggs, but I abstain from my drinking.'
The immigration officer stares with his jaw open, unable to correlate the boy's answer to his question.
'I'm here for my education under chief scientist Satrajit; here's my acceptance letter from him. I'm here to study and eventually settle down here. I don't want to lie, but this is the only way to find a mentor and build a new life for me and my family. Did I mention my Gothram...'
'Hold on, son! Your entry is approved. Why are you wasting my time? We don't scrutinize student visas. Welcome to Mathura, and hopefully, someday, you will put those muscles to use and join the National Guard instead of studying sciences. I need to get out of this job soon…' scoffed the officer handing over the stamped paper.
Yuyudhana, still visibly shaking, drags himself to the entry gate queue. He watches in awe of the vast city of Mathura, filled with tall gopurams within every few yojanas. The city is brimming with activity even as the day ends. He marvels at the architectural wonders and the sprawling trade of the Mahajanpad.
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He forgets his mother's advice to enter the city with his right leg forward. The splendor of Mathura had enchanted him such that either leg would be okay to enter such a place. 'No wonder Jarasandha wants to attack Mathura,' he thought as he entered the capital of Surasena.
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The shops of Mathura were famous for the goods that travelers from all over the world brought with them. Mathura and Magadha had the richest and largest consumer markets, respectively. There were shops filled with exotic textiles, antique art, auction pieces, and food stalls.
'Mathura Makhanlal Bhavan-Sweets and Savaries,' a household name since the age of Ram, was one such food stall. It was a family-owned enterprise that specialized in traditional foods. The youngest scion of the Makhanlal family traveled the world afar to learn fresh delicacies that he brought to this shop. He felt it depicted the spirit of a Mathuran, traditional yet open to innovation.
The younger scion, Giridhar Makhanlal, was handling the crowd at his store filled with pensioners having a chai before leaving for the day. He quickly noticed a young man with a drooling mouth eyeing all the delicacies displayed at the shop entrance.
'Appane! What do you want to try? I have all kinds, ' Makhanlal asked.
'Aiyya, what is that round disc-like object?' asked Yuyudhana, famished from all the travel through Vrindavan and his panic attack at the immigration check.
'It's based out of Maida; we put spoilt milk and vegetables on it. It's a Mathuran delicacy adapted from travelers afar.'
'Vegetables? Do you do fruits, too?'
'Well. I usually don't, but I can add something if you insist,' replied the puzzled Giridhar. 'What do you want out of these fruits? We have bananas, apples, grapes, guava, jackfruit.'
'What is that?' asked Yuyudhana, pointing to a strange-looking object.
'Son, where are you from? That's a weird fruit on this dish. It's called a pineapple.'
'Aiyya, I'm here to try new things. Can you please give me that maida disc with sprinkled pineapple?
Giridhar nodded and handed over the dish, still wondering about the new kinds of people entering Mathura. Little did he realize that this dish would soon take off as Mathurans adopted this radical ingredient in this delicacy.
Yuyudhana, ignorant of any judgment, plunges into the disc-shaped cake. Mathura was a vibrant city compared to Bajra. As he was settling into his chair, he noticed a range of caravans coming in from the corner of his eye.
'Ah, where did I see these? They look familiar,' he wondered. He leaned over to Giridhar and asked him.
'Oh! Those are from Govardhan Parvatham. They have re-started the mining operations for Syamantaka after the landslide last month.'
'Ah! Yes, these were the caravans I saw coming out of Govardhan on my way here,' Yuyudhana recollected.
His thoughts are interrupted by a sudden thud, more thuds, followed by people running away. The buzzing market emptied within minutes. Masked men dropped from the clay-tiled rooftops. They were muscular men with their bodies smeared in holy ash and their faces covered with a cloth turban. One by one, they started attacking the soldiers protecting the caravan.
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The soldiers were no match to these skilled warriors as they employed a form of martial art, deflecting weapons and attacking the body's pressure points. They seemed to be taking orders from a leader directing the group to surround the caravans.
The leader figure notices a Mathuran soldier trying to stand up and runs towards him. There is an explosion that stops the leader in his tracks.
As the dust settles, we see an arrow with its tip emitting light as bright as the sun. The arrow has caused an explosion that stops the leader in his tracks. At a distance, the leader notices a young boy with a soldier's bow fallen nearby. He seems to have missed the shot, evident by the tremble of his hand.
The group of masked men surround the young boy. An ash-smeared man launches a whip that wraps around the boy's leg, and he stumbles onto the ground face-first. The leader closes in with his spear aimed at the boy's face.
Yuyudhana closes his eyes, accepting his fate. 'The sadhu was right about the danger. I was wrong about it being the immigration check' he reconciles.
'O son of Ikshvaku! Please give me a chance,' he prays as he prepares for the inevitable. A sudden thud makes him open his eyes.
The leader of the group is down next to Yuyudhana with blood oozing out of his back. The rest of the group is engaged in a fight with an enormous bull-like figure. The man slashes the attackers with a plow in his right hand while extending his left hand to Yuyudhana.
Yuyudhana stands his ground, quickly grabs the bow, and shoots; even with the tremble, he finally lands a few arrows on the masked men. The large man, meanwhile, is pinned by five men as he grabs onto one of them in a tight chokehold against a pillar. The crowd begins to pour into the market again to witness the fight.
Yuyudhana notices a blood stain on the ground and realizes the leader is missing. The rest of the masked men realize they have lost momentum and scram from the location.
'Glory to Mathura! All hail the greatest warrior of the Mahajanpas!' The crowd chants as the royal guards storm through the crowd.
'Glory to Mathura! All hail Balarama!' the crowd continues shouting as Yuyudhana grabs the maida delicacy he dropped and runs away.
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