After many earth- days, Nishabda came down to gross sphere. His spirit re-entered his gross body and his breathing started again. His heart started beating again. He was lost in immense bliss that opened pores in his skull for hours before he gradually became aware of his physical body. He rubbed the soles of his feet for a while and then looked around. Night was falling when he swam back to the shore. He was still sitting on the shore as the sun rose in the east. He was lost in contemplation, though not connected to the primal wave of consciousness, when Anahata came, a picture of youth on his white horse, Shvetank, the eater of wind. Anahata softly patted Nishabda on his shoulder. He shook him slightly on not getting any response. Nishabda looked at his friend with a slight smile. “Why have you come to disturb an ascetic with your worldly filth?”
“This is no time for jokes. I am in mortal danger. None but you can save me.” Anahata had a perplexed expression on his young face.
“So, you have picked up a fight with your own guru and want me to intervene? What has it to do with me? What are the delusions of life and death to a yogi? Whether the body breathes or mingles into dust, its all the same to me. Fight a good fight before you die. That’s what you Kshatriyas are fooled into believing when they teach you their so called dharma. Why isn’t your mind at peace if the battle is righteous?” Nishabda was still smiling as he chided his visitor.
“So, you already know everything. Then you must help me out of this quandary. I cannot fight him for he is dearer than life itself, nor do I have any hope of winning. You must convince him that I mean him no ill-will and don’t want to fight him.” Anahata was trembling as he spoke.
“The child doesn’t leave the womb to re-enter it, nor does the apple again touch the tree from where it has fallen down. The karma that you have set in motion must be fulfilled. The fight is sure to happen. Neither I nor you can stop what has already happened and is just being replayed on the earth sphere. To live, you must kill him. Whoever challenges you to a mortal combat is an enemy, and death is the only homage that an enemy deserves.”
“He is my revered preceptor, dearer than life itself. And I don’t have even an iota of a chance to stand against him. You must intervene to stop this senseless combat.” The brave Anahata was in tears.
“Tell me the whole thing. Not that I don’t know it, but your words would better reflect your perspective.”
“ It all began on that moonlit night, when I was strolling by the side of the river.”