Son of Bhrigu by Christopher C. Doyle

Author:Christopher C. Doyle [Doyle, Christopher C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789386850478
Publisher: Westland
Published: 2018-04-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Forty-seven

Maya Reflects

Maya’s bedroom

The Guesthouse

Maya lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling in the darkness.

After leaving the Council meeting, she and Arjun had eaten dinner in silence and then parted company. Both of them were weighed down and preoccupied after the discussion with the Mahamatis.

Maya could guess what was on Arjun’s mind. It was all very well to talk about him being the heir to one of the most respected Kshatriya lineages in Indian history. But to live it was quite another thing. She realized that the responsibility and burden of it was just beginning to sink in for Arjun. It was a scary thought. He was just a fifteen-year-old boy. Her heart went out to him.

She, too, had her own demons to confront. While she had been ecstatic about her prospects of becoming a Rishi, during the meeting with the Council, she really hadn’t realized the import of Usha’s words. She had been so swept away by the prospect of being welcomed into the Gurukul that nothing else had mattered. Now, as she reflected with a cooler mind, the realization dawned.

Nothing in her fifteen years upon this Earth had ever indicated that she had the ability to become a Rishi. What if she didn’t have the yogic powers that were needed to make the cut? It was clear that there was no place for her in the Gurukul if she didn’t prove herself. Where would she go if she failed? What would she do? None of this had occurred to her at that time. It hit her now. Her future was as uncertain as ever.

It also occurred to her that perhaps the Council had taken her on out of pity. An orphan, who had recently lost her father. The daughter of an important member of the Sangha . They were giving her a chance, not because they saw anything special in her, but because of who her father had been.

And she resented that.

She didn’t want pity. She didn’t need sympathy. What she really wanted was to prove herself. But the uncertainty, the fear of failure nagged at her.

Added to that was the callous treatment, in her eyes, of her father’s diary. It had been dismissed as being useless. Maya bristled at the memory.

But that discussion hadn’t been entirely fruitless, she had to admit. She had learned something new. The existence of a language not accessible to humans. The possibility that there was knowledge that even the Sangha , with their human limitations, did not know about.

Before retiring for the night, she had spent two hours reading the diary. She had gone through it seriously for the first time, spending time on its pages, attempting to understand what it was trying to tell her. The last time she had looked at it, in Tiwari’s house, she had merely flipped through it in curiosity. Tonight, she had studied it. She wanted to know more about its contents, at least the bits she could understand. She had lingered for a while on the pages with the diagrams and sketches, trying to make sense of them, to no avail.

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