SYNOPSIS

This is a story of the quest for the Kavach-Kundal (set of armor and earrings) worn by the legendary warrior Karna in the MAHABHARATA. The action unfolds in the present time, but the story premise is rooted in a legend from the epic. The armor had celestial powers had provided invincibility to Karna. God Indra had tricked him and taken away the divine set; that’s how Karna lost his final battle against Arjuna. It is not known what Indra did with that set afterward.

(Does one need to be acquainted with the Indian Epic MAHABHARATA to follow this novel? NO. The above paragraph is all that one needs to know. The story is a mystery – a quest for an ancient, all-powerful armor – set in the present time.)

Vasu, the protagonist, sets off to find the set, donning which he should be able to bring peace on earth by fighting terrorists. The spirit of Karna (who is the narrator) guides Vasu through the search. The quest leads Vasu to the Himalayas where he comes across a friendly guide named Chhetri, who helps him in mountaineering. Later, he finds a Yeti who is believed to be holding an ancient treasure, possibly the Kavach-Kundal. After considerable battle of wits, he manages to get it, but it turns out to be only one earring instead of the whole set of armor. It appears Indra had separated the components and had hidden them in four different sites. (Unknown to Vasu, he is not the only one who has an interest in this quest.) With a clue from the Yeti, Vasu heads south to Rameshwaram, where he gets to know that a great scientist has already found the other piece of the earrings. Soon enough, the scientist is kidnapped by a gang. It turns out that the gang leader is none other than Chhetri. The ransom is the pair of earrings plus a considerable sum of money. Vasu joins hands with the police in a covert operation and rescues the scientist, who then hands him over his piece of the earring.

The next leg of his mission takes Vasu to Dwarka on the west coast. He traces out a sunken city off the Gujarat coast, where he locates the back-plate of the armor, guarded by mermaids, but not before he subdues a gang of underwater swimmers who have managed to follow him there. That leaves Vasu to find the final and the most important component, the breastplate. He reaches the famous Sun Temple at Konark on the east coast. The 760-year-old ruins of the exquisitely carved monument intrigue Vasu – Why was there never a deity in such a majestic temple? Why did no worship ever begin in the shrine? Why was it not restored when it collapsed? Did the king construct the temple to bury a secret treasure? Chhetri is back; he tempts Vasu with a box full of gold, power and physical pleasures, to trade with the components of the Kavach-Kundal he has unearthed so far.

It transpires, towards the end, that Chhetri is not truly an antagonist, but a spiritual master deputed by Lord Indra to impose hurdles and temptations on the path of Vasu. The underlying rationale here is that a true seeker will find the Kavach-Kundal, while bounty hunters not pure of heart will fall by the wayside.

There is an element of mysticism throughout the story. In every successive step of the search, Vasu transcends a notch in spirituality, such that on the final leg of his quest, when he discovers the breastplate, he is so transformed that he would rather let the armor rest there as it has done for five millenniums than disturb it. In the end, it is not exactly about finding the armor hidden somewhere, but about locating it within oneself. The discerning reader should be able to spot the monomyth in my hero’s journey..

THE CELESTIAL ARMOR may be compared to Dan Brown’s DA VINCI CODE, in that both are quests by a modern day protagonist for a divine object said to hold infinite powers, and that the antagonists initially appear to be helpful but are intent on grabbing the object for themselves.

ONE - IMMORTALS

You would know me if you knew a bit about the epic, The Mahabharata. Even if you haven’t read it, you have perhaps heard mythological stories told to you by elders. I am Karna, son of Surya, the Sun God. But this story is not about me; it is about Vasu Sen. If you have followed him since his childhood, as I have done, you would know him as my alter ego. He has just set out on a quest to find my Kavach-Kundal, the very same set of armor that was taken away from me by Lord Indra, 5000 years ago.

Yes, I am mighty proud of Vasu, and he prides himself too, for having grown in my likeness and addresses me as Mahapurush – the great man.

I have been traversing in this era – Vasu says it’s the beginning of the twenty-first century – to find a man who could quell my intrigue, who could get me a glimpse of my Kavach-Kundal. I needed to find a person sterling in character, resolute in pursuit, unflinching in the face of adversity, unbiased in reasoning, scientific in thinking, measured in actions, and compassionate to the human cause. Only such a person could deserve to find the Kavach-Kundal. Vasu seemed to measure up to my expectations.

No, I didn’t teach him all those traits. He turned himself into such a persona on the fiery lathe of life. Now, as I strolled in the lawn of his house, he reclining in stupor in his garden swing that swayed slowly in the morning breeze, I noticed how much he had grown physically, mentally, and spiritually, in the last three and half decades. Five years in the Army had made good what he once lacked in physique as a boy. As a matter of fact, at 47 he was brawny like the sportsperson that he was. A short mustache and combed back hair gave him the elegant look of a high-ranking officer of a corporate, which again, he was.

I replayed in my mind all those testing times Vasu has been through – born illegitimate, brought up in abject living conditions, being an object of ridicule during his formative years, his first love mocking him and forsaking him, he losing his job for telling a lie, he unearthing a treasure trove but someone else claiming it, he narrowly missing a medal in an international sports event, he getting superseded for promotion. All these pitfalls, which were not very different from those I had been through, had turned him into a resolute man with a balanced view of life. His circumstances had molded him into a confident and capable man, until finally, I must admit, he surpassed me in goodness and accomplishment. Whereas I had humiliated Draupadi with derogatory speech, Vasu took as wife a dishonored woman, and whereas I had gone down fighting Arjuna in the final battle of my life, Vasu emerged victorious in a life-and-death fight against terrorists. All these you would know if you have read the account of Vasu’s early life recorded in Karna’s Alter Ego.

I did nothing to make him what he is today. I merely walked beside him when he needed me, stood by him whenever he called me to. In reality, I was always beside him, though most times unseen, to see him fare through multitudes of tests that life threw at him. It took him 35 years to reach these lofty standards, and I must say I am impressed.

His question to me, when he was still in school, rang in my ears. “Mahapurush, did it hurt when you wrenched out the Kavach-Kundal from your body?”

“A bit,” I had assured the concerned little Vasu. But the pain had been far more than ‘a bit’. It was quite like skinning myself, tearing off the outer covering that had grown on me since my birth. I bled all over, but Indra also cured me. The scars were gone, but the Kavach-Kundal remained imprinted on my soul which no one could ever erase.

Vasu perceived my presence and opened his eyes. I could see that he was ready to take up my challenge. I could no longer contain my intrigue. I disclosed my millennia old curiosity to him: “Where has my Kavach-Kundal vanished, Vasu?”

He stood transfixed, staring at me and my bright white robe with adoration, as one does before a deity. He looked me up from foot to head and at each limb sent out a prayer. My bare feet, he bowed and touched; he took my hands and touched them to his forehead; at the mark of rising sun on my forehead he fixed his gaze and sent out a prayer unto Surya. He peered at the conch shell that hung by a sash from my shoulders. Through my locks of hair, he noticed my earlobes that should have been adorned with Kundals, and finally, underneath my silken shawl, he visualized my bare torso where the Kavach should have been.

“Mahapurush, I thought you always knew where it went after Lord Indra took it away from you.”

From his tenor, I could make out that he was plunged into the intrigue, as deep as I was. He yearned, as much I did, to set out on a quest for the Kavach-Kundal. But we had no idea where to begin our search from. Neither I nor anyone else, but Indra, ever got to know where the armor went. Indra hid it in some corner of the earth, never to be found. I told Vasu that I had made discreet inquiries. “Indra couldn’t carry it with him to Swarga, the Heaven. Before he could reach the gates of Amaravati, Surya, annoyed with him for divesting me of his gift, shone on him and irradiated the Kavach-Kundal that he was carrying concealed. So radiant was the effulgence from the set that everyone came to know what Indra was carrying wrapped in satin sheets. Brahma and several gods appeared there and asked him not to defile the heavens. ‘What you are carrying, O Indra, despite all its divine powers, is still a human body part, grossly lacking in sanctity to enter the heavens,’ advised Brahma. Lord Indra had to turn back from the gates of his kingdom.”

“Did he then dig deep and push it into patala, the Underworld?” asked Vasu.

“He wouldn’t be so foolish. If the demons of the Underworld found it, they would let hell loose on heavens, divest Indra of his throne and rule over the gods.”

It only meant that the Kavach-Kundal was stashed away on earth, in some spot known only to Indra. The secret location has remained a matter of speculation in all the worlds: the world of gods, of humans, of Rakshasas, of Gandharvas, of Pitris. Indra has taken every measure to keep his secret, even from gods, forever protective of his throne that he is. He has even dispelled thoughts of it from his consciousness lest someone read his mind.

“But why do we need to find it now, Mahapurush? Let it rest where it lies.”

That was just the kind of question I expected from a rational, reasoning mind. Vasu should be right in his thinking. Why disturb the potent armament that has been lying peacefully for so many millennia? But he lacked the ability to foresee the future. The human world was nearing self-destruction. Weapons no less in potency than the Brahmastra proliferated in the hands of unwise despots. Such weapons could only be deterred by more such weapons, which they called nuclear missiles. In my time, powerful celestial arms remained with the gods and only the deserving, who had earned the merit, could invoke them for one-time use, after which the weapons returned to the gods.

But this was Kali Yuga. I shuddered to think of the consequences if the Kavach-Kundal came into the hands of a madman, who also possessed those modern nuclear weapons. He could turn himself into a singular anti-god and rule over the world.

“We need to find it somehow before someone else does,” I replied in brief. Vasu found himself in a web of intrigue surrounding its existence somewhere on earth. For him, it became a challenge to fetch it for me.

***

We met again after a couple of weeks inside a city garden. He had taken leave of his wife and child. Donning a backpack on his shoulders, he was raring to go on the hunt. He was dressed like a trekker. Assuming I knew what to do next, he asked, “Where do we start our search?”

I was as clueless on where to begin, as he was. Besides, I needed to tell him what I had said many times earlier. “Vasu, you’ll have to do this task by yourself. I cannot do much.”

“Is there any job that you can do by yourself? You refuse to lift a hand; I am the one who does all the work.”

I smiled at his jest. “You’re right. I am from the pitri-world, the world of forefathers,” I explained. “Hailing from 5000 years in the past, I am not authorized to interfere in the present. That would defile time.”

“Mahapurush, it’s your mission, not mine. You are keen to find your Kavach-Kundal.” When Vasu felt strongly about completing a task, he used military terms like ‘mission’. “Since you are so keen, I’ll consider your mission as mine.”

“Once you find it, it becomes yours.”

“Look at your size, Mahapurush. Such broad shoulders, such a large chest. I am too small to fit into your armor.” He laughed at his modest jibe. He jerked his shoulders to prop his backpack a bit higher and repeated his earlier question, “We are back to where we had begun. Where do we start from?”

“I have no idea,” I said. “The world has changed so much that I can barely find my way.” Indeed. The modern world seemed like catacombs of concrete, linked with speeding machines that dashed from one end to another incessantly. Over time, hills had been flattened, rivers rerouted, boundaries of kingdoms had changed while many of them had disappeared. In such an energetic environment, I, hailing from an ancient age, stood little chance of finding anything. That was one reason why I wanted a present day man like Vasu to take up the search. I expressed my inability to proceed in any direction, given the current dynamic milieu.

“I wish you had lived through all these ages. Then you would remember every path, nook and corner, every hill and river, every high rise and tunnel as and when they appeared and disappeared.”

I pondered over Vasu’s words. I had indeed been titled Mrityunjay, Conqueror of Death, in other words, ‘Immortal’. But with the loss of my Kavach-Kundal, my destiny too changed. With that prompt, however, I recalled there were other Chiranjeevis, Immortals.

“Vasu, you got it right. A few people who lived during my days and are still living through to this day.”

Vasu knew of the Immortals, nine of them, and recounted their names with little effort. In all probabilities, they would have some clue about the hidden armor. But we weren’t any closer to a solution than we were earlier. The dwellings of the Chiranjeevis were just as secretive as the hiding place of the armor. But Vasu considered it was possible to locate at least one of the Immortals more quickly than the Kavach-Kundal. “You’ll surely know some of them, and where they live now?” he asked me.

“Evidently, I know Aswatthama, a good friend of mine, but he is living an accursed life. I would rather pin my hopes on Parashurama, my revered guru. Not only was he my teacher, but also a learned sage. He will not disappoint you, if you can find him, that is.”

“Let’s go and call on Parashurama.” Vasu talked as if the guru lived like a present day man in some country house with his name board on it. The last I knew of him was when he lived in the mountainous forests of Mahendragiri. I had been to that area and knew exactly where this hill was, unless it too had been flattened, and the sage had moved to another hill.

I told Vasu, “The sage used to live in Mahendragiri, which was situated in the ancient kingdom of Kalinga. The king of Kalinga used to be a good friend of mine.”

He opened a map and said a range of hills by that name existed in the state of Odisha. “Odisha is the present name of your ancient Kalinga,” he explained.

“Vasu, depart for Mahendragiri hills now,” I instructed. “I’ll be there, ahead of you.”

He studied the map once again; the better approach to the hill was from the south, from Andhra Pradesh, though geographically, the hill lay in Odisha, actually quite close to the border of the two states. I wondered how much the political and physical world had changed! Andhra used to be way down south of Mahendragiri.

Before he walked away, he took a few steps and stopped to see if I was following. I was not. He smiled with the self-assurance that I would be right next to him no sooner than he needed me.

“Mahapurush, the Kavach-Kundal must come back to where it belongs.” He set out on his mission in brisk steps. I was glad Vasu had responded to my call to adventure.

****

CHAPTER ONE ENDS

DESCRIPTION

Title: The Celestial Armor

Genre: Mystery/ Thriller

Age Range: 18 and above

Word count: 107,000

Author Name: Surendra Nath

The reader is hooked from the beginning as they want to know if the protagonist, Vasu, will succeed in discovering the divine set of armor, which makes the wearer invincible in battle. While the protagonist goes hunting for the missing pieces, the owner of armor, the legendary Karna, guides him. Karna is also the narrator.

A bit about me:

I am a 60-year old retired naval officer, who has published a novel, KARNA’S ALTER EGO (Dream House Publication 2015). It has received 4.2 star-rating from 64 readers on Goodreads. This book was selected by the national library (Raja Ram Mohun Roy Library Foundation) for distribution to state level libraries. I have also translated the first volume of poems of the national award winning poet Padma Shri Haldhar Nag into English titled KAVYANJALI – self published 2016. This book was selected by Odisha government library (Hare Krushna Mahtab Library) for distribution to district level libraries. POLITICAL & BUSINESS DAILY carried a good review of my translation work on 1st Nov. 2016:

http://pbdodisha.in/Details.aspx?id=44837&boxid=52436728&dat=11/1/2016

I am Indian residing in Cuttack, Odisha.

You would know me if you knew a bit about the epic, The Mahabharata. Even if you haven’t read it, you have perhaps heard mythological stories told to you by elders. I am Karna, son of Surya, the Sun-god. But this story is not about me; it is about Vasu Sen. If you have followed him since his childhood, as I have done, you would know him as my alter ego. He has just set out on a quest to find my Kavach-Kundal, the very same set of armor that was taken away from me by Lord Indra, 5000 years ago.

Yes, I am mighty proud of Vasu, and he prides himself too, for having grown in my likeness and addresses me as Mahapurush – the great man.

I have been traversing in this era – Vasu says it’s the beginning of the twenty-first century – to find a man who could quell my intrigue, who could get me a glimpse of my Kavach-Kundal. I needed to find a person sterling in character, resolute in pursuit, unflinching in the face of adversity, unbiased in reasoning, scientific in thinking, measured in actions, and compassionate to the human cause. Only such a person could deserve to find the Kavach-Kundal. Vasu seemed to measure up to my expectations.

No, I didn’t teach him all those traits. He turned himself into such a persona on the fiery lathe of life. Now, as I strolled in the lawn of his house, he reclining in stupor in his garden swing that swayed slowly in the morning breeze, I noticed how much he had grown physically, mentally, and spiritually, in the last three and half decades. Five years in the Army had made good what he once lacked in physique as a boy. As a matter of fact, at 47 he was brawny like the sportsperson that he was. A short mustache and combed back hair gave him the elegant look of a high-ranking officer of a corporate, which again, he was.

I replayed in my mind all those testing times Vasu has been through – born illegitimate, brought up in abject living conditions, being an object of ridicule during his formative years, his first love mocking him and forsaking him, he losing his job for telling a lie, he unearthing a treasure trove but someone else claiming it, he narrowly missing a medal in an international sports event, he getting superseded for promotion. All these pitfalls, which were not very different from those I had been through, had turned him into a resolute man with a balanced view of life. His circumstances had molded him into a confident and capable man, until finally, I must admit, he surpassed me in goodness and accomplishment. Whereas I had humiliated Draupadi with derogatory speech, Vasu took as wife a dishonored woman, and whereas I had gone down fighting Arjuna in the final battle of my life, Vasu emerged victorious in a life-and-death fight against terrorists. All these you would know if you have read the account of Vasu’s early life recorded in Karna’s Alter Ego.

I did nothing to make him what he is today. I merely walked beside him when he needed me, stood by him whenever he called me to. In reality, I was always beside him, though most times unseen, to see him fare through multitudes of tests that life threw at him. It took him 35 years to reach these lofty standards, and I must say I am impressed.

His question to me, when he was still in school, rang in my ears. “Mahapurush, did it hurt when you wrenched out the Kavach-Kundal from your body?”

“A bit,” I had assured the concerned little Vasu. But the pain had been far more than ‘a bit’. It was quite like skinning myself, tearing off the outer covering that had grown on me since my birth. I bled all over, but Indra also cured me. The scars were gone, but the Kavach-Kundal remained imprinted on my soul which no one could ever erase.

Vasu perceived my presence and opened his eyes. I could no longer contain my intrigue. I disclosed my millennia old curiosity to him: “Where has my Kavach-Kundal vanished, Vasu?”

He stood transfixed, staring at me and my bright white robe with adoration, as one does before a deity. He looked me up from foot to head and at each limb sent out a prayer. My bare feet, he bowed and touched; he took my hands and touched them to his forehead; at the mark of rising sun on my forehead he fixed his gaze and sent out a prayer unto Surya. He peered at the conch shell that hung by a sash from my shoulders. Through my locks of hair, he noticed my earlobes that should have been adorned with Kundals, and finally, underneath my silken shawl, he visualized my bare torso where the Kavach should have been.

“Mahapurush, I thought you always knew where it went after Lord Indra took it away from you.”

From his tenor, I could make out that he was plunged into the intrigue, as deep as I was. He yearned, as much I did, to set out on a quest for the Kavach-Kundal. But we had no idea where to begin our search from. Neither I nor anyone else, but Indra, ever got to know where the armor went. Indra hid it in some corner of the earth, never to be found. I told Vasu that I had made discreet inquiries. “Indra couldn’t carry it with him to Swarga, the Heaven. Before he could reach the gates of Amaravati, Surya, annoyed with him for divesting me of his gift, shone on him and irradiated the Kavach-Kundal that he was carrying concealed. So radiant was the effulgence from the set that everyone came to know what Indra was carrying wrapped in satin sheets. Brahma and several gods appeared there and asked him not to defile the heavens. ‘What you are carrying, O Indra, despite all its divine powers, is still a human body part, grossly lacking in sanctity to enter the heavens,’ advised Brahma. Lord Indra had to turn back from the gates of his kingdom.”

“Did he then dig deep and push it into Patala, the Underworld?” asked Vasu.

“He wouldn’t be so foolish. If the demons of the Underworld found it, they would let hell loose on heavens, divest Indra of his throne and rule over the gods.”

It only meant that the Kavach-Kundal was stashed away on earth, in some spot known only to Indra. The secret location has remained a matter of speculation in all the worlds: the world of gods, of humans, of rakshasas, of gandharvas, of pitris. Indra has taken every measure to keep his secret, even from gods, forever protective of his throne that he is. He has even dispelled thoughts of it from his consciousness lest someone read his mind.

“But why do we need to find it now, Mahapurush? Let it rest where it lies.”

That was just the kind of question I expected from a rational, reasoning mind. Vasu should be right in his thinking. Why disturb the potent armament that has been lying peacefully for so many millennia? But he lacked the ability to foresee the future. The human world was nearing self-destruction. Weapons no less in potency than the Brahmastra proliferated in the hands of unwise despots. Such weapons could only be deterred by more such weapons, which they called nuclear missiles. In my time, powerful celestial arms remained with the gods and only the deserving, who had earned the merit, could invoke them for one-time use, after which the weapons returned to the gods.

*****

SYNOPSIS

This is a story of the quest for the Kavach-Kundal (set of armor and earrings) worn by the legendary warrior Karna in the Mahabharata. The action unfolds in the present time, but the story premise is rooted in a legend from the epic. The armor had celestial powers had provided invincibility to Karna. God Indra had tricked him and taken away the divine set; that’s how Karna lost his final battle against Arjuna. It is not known what Indra did with that set afterward.

(Does one need to be acquainted with the Indian Epic MAHABHARATA to follow this novel? NO. The above paragraph is all that one needs to know. The story is a mystery – a quest for an ancient, all-powerful armor – set in the present time.)

Vasu, the protagonist, sets off to find the set, donning which he should be able to bring peace on earth by fighting terrorists. The spirit of Karna (who is the narrator) guides Vasu through the search. The quest leads Vasu to the Himalayas where he comes across a friendly guide named Chhetri, who helps him in mountaineering. Later, he finds a Yeti who is believed to be holding an ancient treasure, possibly the Kavach-Kundal. After considerable battle of wits, he manages to get it, but it turns out to be only one earring instead of the whole set of armor. It appears Indra had separated the components and had hidden them in four different sites. (Unknown to Vasu, he is not the only one who has an interest in this quest.) With a clue from the Yeti, Vasu heads south to Rameshwaram, where he gets to know that a great scientist has already found the other piece of the earrings. Soon enough, the scientist is kidnapped by a gang. It turns out that the gang leader is none other than Chhetri. The ransom is the pair of earrings plus a considerable sum of money. Vasu joins hands with the police in a covert operation and rescues the scientist, who then hands him over his piece of the earring.

The next leg of his mission takes Vasu to Dwarka on the west coast. He traces out a sunken city off the Gujarat coast, where he locates the back-plate of the armor, guarded by mermaids, but not before he subdues a gang of underwater swimmers who have managed to follow him there. That leaves Vasu to find the final and the most important component, the breastplate. He reaches the famous Sun Temple at Konark on the east coast. The 760-year-old ruins of the exquisitely carved monument intrigue Vasu – Why was there never a deity in such a majestic temple? Why did no worship ever begin in the shrine? Why was it not restored when it collapsed? Did the king construct the temple to bury a secret treasure? Chhetri is back; he tempts Vasu with a box full of gold, power and physical pleasures, to trade with the components of the Kavach-Kundal he has unearthed so far.

It transpires, towards the end, that Chhetri is not truly an antagonist, but a spiritual master deputed by Lord Indra to impose hurdles and temptations on the path of Vasu. The underlying rationale here is that a true seeker will find the Kavach-Kundal, while bounty hunters not pure of heart will fall by the wayside.

There is an element of mysticism throughout the story. In every successive step of the search, Vasu transcends a notch in spirituality, such that on the final leg of his quest, when he discovers the breastplate, he is so transformed that he would rather let the armor rest there as it has done for five millennia than disturb it. In the end, it is not exactly about finding an armor hidden somewhere, but about locating it within oneself. The discerning reader should be able to spot the monomyth in my hero’s journey.

THE CELESTIAL ARMOR is somewhat comparable to Dan Brown’s DA VINCI CODE, in that both are quests by a modern day protagonist for a divine object said to hold infinite powers, and that the antagonists initially appear to be helpful but are intent on grabbing the object for themselves.

****