Madhava was pacing around his bedroom. The crackling of fires and the gushing of liquids from the lab were echoing around his mansion. He was in deep thought as he recalled the morning.

The Emperor of South India, King Chamaraja had called for him, at the break of dawn.

Madhava, after his morning rituals, walked around the Palace. He enquired of the whereabouts of the King and head to the balcony, where the King was surveying the dawn. Madhava bowed to the ground, when he saw the king.

“Your Majesty, why do you require my presence. Your servant is at your command.�

The King turned and saw him. Madhava saw that the King had a restless look; he was losing patience. Madhava knew he had to act fast or it would mean that he was doomed for the rest of his life.
The King replied conceitedly, “Madhava, do you remember what I had asked of you? How is your progress? When will it attain completion?�

“Your Highness, I do remember very well. It was over a year ago. The process is almost complete. I need a special element; my brother has gone to bring it. He shall be back by tomorrow. The process shall be complete by this fortnight, by Dasami.I will present it to you on Ekadasi.�

“Very well�, said the King, without turning and dismissed Madhava with a wave of his hand.

Madhava proceeded to his lab as he recollected the king’s words. He opened the ancient manuscripts and adhering to every letter, followed the instructions. His hands worked their Magic absent mindedly through a wand, specially crafted for him by the Siddhars, a group of magicians.

Madhava was a prodigy. He was the only one in the kingdom, who could perform Magic. His parents were poor and already feeding two of his siblings, a brother, Jyeshta and a sister, Andal. Madhava was taken to the sacred peak of Sivan Petta, by his father for his studies and left in the care of the Siddhars. The Siddhars were epitome of magic, who had attained such splendors through deep Self-Realisation. The Siddhars imparted their knowledge and magic to Madhava. Madhava learnt many languages such as Sanskrit, Tamil, Telugu, French, and Latin. He inherited the treasures of manuscripts, dating to the Ramayana era. Madhava could only decipher the languages while Jyeshta had deep understanding of those scriptures

Madhava’s parents had died of old age. Madhava soon earned reputation, by virtue of his knowledge. His manuscripts were transferred into the King’s treasury and the King appointed Madhava in his court. Andal was married away to the son of a rich landlord. Jyeshta was given a part of the King’s businesses to handle.

Over a year ago, the King heard of magic being used in the north, near the domain of Lord Himavan, the Himalayas. Aroused by the desire to be the first to use magic in South India, the King called for his Prime Minister. The Prime Minister was ordered to search the Ancient Manuscripts Treasury, for any mention of Magic. The Prime Minister spent the whole day in the Treasury, with Madhava. They continued their search much into the night.

As they exited the Treasury, the Prime Minister saw an ancient manuscript, illumined by the moonlight. Taking it as a signal from the Moon-God, he picked it up and retired to his quarters. In the morning, he visited the King in his private durbar, with Madhava.

The Prime Minister had made Madhava decipher the manuscript. Madhava read, “The conquest for achieving an inexhaustible supply of gold, akin to the Syamantaka Mani has been on since time immemorial. The Philosopher's stone is a legendary substance, capable of turning inexpensive metals into gold akin to the myths of the Mani; additionally, the Stone can also be put to use to conjure an elixir of life, useful for rejuvenation and possibly for achieving immortality.

However, the Stone comes with a hefty price tag attached: The process is a complex one, which could take up to beyond a year. The process has been undertaken many times, but rarely has it even reached its intermediate step…�

The King dismissed Madhava. He called his Prime Minister for a private counsel. The Prime Minister was a selfish person. He would fill his pockets with the treasury gold whenever he had the chance.

Now, he had the best chance to hoodwink the King and take the Stone for himself, if it would be formed. He crafted his words with care and spoke to the King, “Your Majesty, the Stone can prove to us, a weapon of stating our authority in Magic. Till now, only the Siddhars, Madhava and those out in the North can perform Magic. After we have acquired the Stone, Your Majesty, your subjects can live on the gold of the Stone and our kingdom can prosper, whilst under your rule. Moreover you shall live long with the Elixir.� The King fell for those words coated with the venom of flattery.

Later in the day, the King had appointed Madhava to undertake the processing for the Stone.
***

Presently, Madhava struggled with the conflict between his conscience and his duty to the King. Madhava set about unfolding the last manuscript with an irksome attitude. Just as he unfolded the manuscript, his conscience got the better of him and he laid the manuscript at his lab table and went back to his room.

He took a papyrus roll and unfurled it. Having taken a quill, made of a peacock feather, Madhava dipped it in the ink pot. Just as the quill-tip touched the papyrus roll, Madhava gazed out of the window. It was nearing sunset.

“The religious obligations (sandhya) of a Vedic Scholar (Brahmin) were always top priorities in respect to other duties, as those to the king or any other individual and those towards the society�, thought Madhava as he walked to the lake. He stepped into and performed his evening rituals to the gods. Since his rituals at sunrise, Madhava’s mind was in turmoil.

As per the main ritual, he got down in to the lake and paid his obeisance to the setting Sun God, by chanting the appropriate prayers the required number of times. While chanting the prayers for every repetition, he took a handful amount of water and poured it facing the sun, after the chant. With the repetition of the prayer, the main ritual of the Sandhya had concluded. The ritual of Sandhya also included other rites that were purificatory, serving to prevent distracting thoughts and bring focus to the mind. These were: propitiatory libations of water to the gods of the planets and of the months of the calendar and to one’s ancestors, atoning for Sandhyas not performed and atoning for sins committed since the last hour of Sandhya.

After the complete ritual, which took about an hour, Madhava proceeded back to his mansion and put the quill to task. All through his life, Madhava had looked up to his elder brother, Jyeshta for support and advice. He wrote :

Respected brother,
Salutations.

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I need a piece of advice from you. I am facing a war on the psychological front, while discharging my duties.
On one side, I have my duties to the King; his orders to me and alternatively, I have my constantly distressing conscience, whose reasoning is against the Royal order. The King has tasked me with the invention (discovery) of a fabled stone, the Philosopher’s Stone. This Stone grants the wielder, immense amount of Gold and produces an Elixir, which can make one immortal.
I need your advice as to how I can overcome this war; I want you to be the bearer of the torch of knowledge which can dispel the dark clouds of my confusion.
Also I have informed the king that you have gone out of the kingdom, to fetch an important ingredient needed for the experiment; I have told that you would return by this Dasami so can you do the needful and return by that time ?
Yours truly,
Madhava


Madhava called for his pet eagle, Garuda. He furled the papyrus roll, addressed it to his brother and tied it to Garuda’s leg. Madhava then sent Garuda on its flight. He watched the eagle’s silhouette shrink to a small dot, in the face of the Full Moon.

Madhava turned away from the window deep in thought.“The Moon-God shines in all his glory; may He be benevolent and impart some of his blessings upon me and this kingdom. Tonight being the full moon day, Ten days hence would be Dasami... the day after I have to present the Stone to the king. I just pray to God that I succeed in my endeavor and I present to the king what is expected of me!�

Madhava folded his hands in veneration of the gods, gazing upwards and proceeded to his lab.

He reached his table, and remembered about the manuscript. He was fevered with lack of sleep. The gale of wind and the gushing of water, from the lake afar and the cracking of the torch-flames were as if singing a lullaby to Madhava; so that he would not err in his interpreting of the manuscript, due to his sleep-deprived state. Madhava got up from his table and somehow managed to get to his bed. The lamps had shown him the way to his bed, but now were an obstacle to his sleep. He tried to get up, to put off the lamps; but failed. The wind blew into the room and put off the lamps, sending Madhava into a deep slumber.

Madhava dreamt of the four elements: Fire, Wind, Earth and Water, personified. From each, issued an orb of energy which then combined to an outline of a man which transformed into the earth.

Madhava saw himself prostrated in front of the earth. He saw the eternal cosmos and as he turned his gaze back to the earth, he saw that it had transformed into a crimson stone. He knew that the stone was the fabled Philosopher’s stone. He picked it up. As soon as his hand touched the stone, it blistered. Madhava saw that the Stone had disappeared, and that his hand was healed. Next, he saw the fate of the kingdom: The King was overthrown, the commoners were in dire poverty and he himself was lying on his deathbed, inflicted by Pestilence.

At this juncture, his conscience had gotten the better of him: “If he could convince the king, he would stop his search for the Stone and depart from the kingdom, in the morning�, thought he before falling into blackness, down ... down... down...

“Madhava….get up!� He slowly came to his senses. It was the Head Medic who had woken him up. “Good Lord! You are awake. We thought we had lost you. How are you feeling?� Puzzled, Madhava asked, “Why what was wrong with me?� the medic replied, “You were inflicted by a fever. You were unconscious for the past two days. I almost lost the battle and lost you.� “Now I feel better… you can leave now� said Madhava.

Madhava performed his morning duties and proceeded to meet the king. At his durbar, the king was in counsel with the Prime Minister, when Madhava entered.

“His Highness, I beg of you, forgiveness for my leave of the previous two days. I was down with a fever. Your work, my lord….� Just as Madhava finished saying ‘work’, the king opened his mouth but the Prime Minister beat the king to talking. The Prime Minister said, “ His Highness doesn’t pay you for coming up with excuses. You have a Royal order to live up to. Failure to do so, would result in death… Not only yours but your brother’s and your sister’s as well� said the Minister with a sinister gleam in his eyes. Madhava could put his life at stake but never his brother’s or his sister’s… “As you wish, my lord, your work will be completed on schedule.� Madhava went back to his mansion.
Madhava was concentrating on his goal, of deciphering the last manuscript that he failed to notice that his eagle had returned from its journey. Garuda carried the reply from Madhava’s brother.

Madhava unfurled the manuscript and began interpreting the text while simultaneously writing the decoded text down on a separate papyrus roll.

After a tedious session of deciphering the ancient text Madhava read his notes. “The key to life and death,� he read aloud, “is everywhere to be found, but if you do not find it in your own house, you will find it nowhere. Yet, it is before everyone’s eyes; no one can live without it; everyone has used it. The poor usually possess more of it than the rich; children play with it in the streets. The meek and uneducated esteem it highly, but the privileged and learned often throw it away. When rejected, it lies dormant in the bowels of the earth. It is the only thing from which the Philosopher’s Stone can be prepared, and without it, no noble metal can ever be created.�

As Madhava was probing the meaning of the text, the Prime Minister entered the room. Animals being attuned to the character of a person, Garuda took flight suddenly, just as the Prime Minister entered the room. Due to its sudden flight, Jyeshta’s letter ripped off Garuda’s legs and fell on the window ledge, unnoticed by both the Prime Minister and Madhava.

“The King isn’t expecting you to read riddles or messages out of rotting old pieces of tree-bark.� Madhava’s thoughts broke apart. He looked up from the text, directly at the minister. “He expects quite the contrary: King Chamaraja wants his name etched on trees, on stone and on gold. The materials may grow old, but His name will become an eternal message, for the future peoples� the Prime minister continued, “He has ordered you to exhibit the Stone in five days. Heed to his words or thou shall face my, meaning the king’s, wrath. Now get up and do your hocus-pocus and prepare the Stone. The king is growing impatient and is tired of your alleged reasons. Go! I say…� The Prime Minister strived to seize the ancient manuscript from Madhava’s table. But Madhava was quicker. He picked up his wand and with a quick but powerful spell, blasted the Prime Minister out of the room. Madhava quickly sprinted after the Prime minister. He found the Minister out cold. A complex spell saw to it that the Minster’s memory was modified. Madhava levitated the Prime Minister and transported him to his chambers.

After his encounter with the Prime minister, Madhava was bewildered. He needed some time before he went back to studying the riddle. He walked down the path that lead to the stables. He called for his horse, Maruti and proceeded to the city outskirts on horse-back. It was festival time in the city. Madhava had crossed the heart of the festivities and proceeded to a nearby cave. Madhava conjured a flaming torch, to provide light. The chant of the prayers was loud. That, however, didn’t stop the unearthly silence from falling over Madhava the deeper he went, three pairs of footsteps blending with the crackling of the torch in an echoing dissonance louder than it really should’ve been.

Madhava and his horse had gone quite deep into the cave, when he decided to stop. He sat down on the cold stone and conjured a pile of firewood. He lit it with the torch. He recollected the Riddle, as he stared into the heart of the fire. The key to life and death had to be found in own house before anywhere else, it said, though it was everywhere. Something in his own house, often discarded by the rich but a toy of children and something none could live without. Everywhere ... used by everyone....

“God…. Help me, oh Lord!� whispered Madhava. The moment his words left his lips, it struck him. ‘One’s Belief in God’ seemed a plausible answer. The answer fit in the riddle, quite easily. God was omnipresent, the children played with that belief, hoping to be victorious in their games. The poor definitely were more god-fearing, than the rich. The answer fit perfectly. He had to visit the temple and give his thanks to the Almighty. Madhava clambered on to Maruti and head for the temple, exiting the cold regions of the cave.

At the temple, he worshipped the lord and thanked him for showing him the path to the riddle’s answer. As he circumambulated round the temple, he noticed the gold that had been donated by the royal household and other aristocrats. Near the gold, he saw that the poor people brought fruits and flowers for the lord. Gold and the flowers were equally valued at the temple. He remembered a line of the riddle: The meek and uneducated esteem it highly, but the privileged and learned often throw it away. The answer was not in harmony with that line. It turned out that ‘Belief in God’ was the most obvious of answers.

Madhava sat dejected under the sacred fig tree and submerged into deep thought. He thought of many things, such as: rationality, family bonds, conscience, feelings of guilt, and the ancient religious scriptures. But nothing seemed to fit the bill. Madhava had contemplated the pros and cons of each before discarding it. Immersed in thought, Madhava did not notice that night had fallen. The hoot of an owl broke his reverie. He galloped to his manor and went to bed without further delay. A good sleep would rejuvenate his mind and he could hunt for the answer tomorrow.

He completed his morning ritual. After which he shunned his duties to the king, heading immediately back down to solving the riddle. Surely something would tell him what he needed. The fever had again afflicted him. Exhaustion. He could barely see what he was doing. He knelt and prayed. “Oh Lord, may you guide me to my destiny. May you shine light on the Riddle’s answer.� Madhava bowed his head down.

A strong gale blew in from the window. A piece of parchment flew right onto his lap. It was part of his brother’s letter. The piece read ‘Gita: II-47’. Though Madhava did not recall the exact contents of verse by heart, he could barely be able to contain his excitement.
Looking over his shoulder, he couldn't help but smile. There atop the main altar, propped open on a gilded book stand, sat an enormous leather-bound Bhagavad-Gita. With a prayer in mind, he moved toward the altar, toward the Bhagavad-Gita. With his mind on the Lord, Madhava turned his eager hands to the leather Bhagavad-Gita. His long fingers were sweating now as he turned the pages. Flipping through the ancient Scripture, he located chapter two. As he ran his finger down the column of text, he anticipated the words he was about to read.

They will lead the way!

Finding verse number forty-seven, Madhava read the text. It said:

“To work alone you have competence, and not to claim their fruits.
Let not the longing for fruits be the motive force of your action.
At the same time let not this attitude confirm you in indolent inaction.�

His intellect could not grasp the verse. He reread it. Slowly the verse made sense.

Jyeshta had referred this verse to Madhava in reply to his letter. Dejected, Madhava sprang from his position and he found his legs carrying him to the temple grounds. He sat down under the shade of the trees. He watched two groups of children playing their game on the street. Many games were played. The results were declared. One group was jubilant with victory and their prize of sweets, the other saddened but not disheartened.

Before long, the victors were heard saying to the losing side, “Come friends, though you have not won today’s game, many more will be played in the coming days. For the present, let’s enjoy the sweets. After all, you did put in your best. Taste the fruits of your efforts.� Madhava, witnessing this event, got up from his seat and walked back to his mansion. En route, he saw some peasants giving food to an orphan. The peasants had to go hungry, but were happy that the orphan had had its fill.

Some distance further, he saw some rich merchants bargaining profits in a deal. Neither party wanted to yield. Each wanted their selfish needs to be fulfilled.

Back at his mansion, Madhava’s thoughts went back to the Verse. ‘Selfless attitude gives birth to a sense of charity. Charity was being practiced day in and day out by the people, in his house, by the children in the street…Like a bolt from the blue, Madhava had solved the riddle.

The sense of selflessness. Charity. That was the key to making the Philosopher’s Stone.

Everything made sense now. All the pieces came together. Of course he would have to find it in his own house - he practiced charity there. Selflessness was around everyone, the poor had done more charity than the rich, and children were selfless and full of innocence and charitable. The privileged and learned yearned for benefits out of life’s many deals; they were seldom charitable without seeking returns. And when charity is rejected, it lies in the bowels of the earth: the person is left within the bowels of desire, attached to the materialistic earth, rejected by spirituality and enlightenment.

Madhava had cracked the riddle, with help of the verse given by his brother. Ironically, instead of easing Madhava’s troubles, his brother had redoubled it!

The king had to be notified of the latest developments. The Stone could be created, if it could ever be. But could it be put to use or will it fail in its objective… Only fate and his temperament would tell…

(END)
***