The Rakshasa

The golden afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of her Pune home, casting a warm, peaceful glow across the living room as Chetana stared intently at her laptop screen. For a long, breathless moment, she simply blinked, reading the email from Rolling Updates over and over again to ensure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. A brilliant grin slowly spread across her face as the single word registered in her mind: Selected. A joyous laugh bubbled up in her chest. After enduring agonizing months of sending out applications, sitting through grueling interviews, completing endless assessments, and waiting in suspense, she had finally received her official joining letter. Unable to contain her excitement for even another second, she pushed her chair back and dashed out of her room.

“Amma!” she called out, her thrilled voice echoing through the quiet house.

Her mother, Siri, emerged from the kitchen with a concerned expression, hurriedly wiping her hands on a small dish towel. “What happened, Chetana?” she asked.

Instead of just shouting, Chetana practically shoved the laptop toward her mother. “I got it,” she beamed.

For a brief second, Siri looked profoundly confused as she squinted at the screen. Then, a sudden realization dawned on her, and her face lit up with pure delight. “Oh! You got the job?“.

Chetana nodded excitedly, and Siri immediately pulled her daughter into a tight, warm hug. “I knew you would get it,” Siri murmured with maternal pride.

Drawn by the commotion, her father, Jagannath, looked up from the dense scripture he had been engrossed in and thoughtfully adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “What is all this loud celebration about?” he inquired.

“She got selected,” Siri answered for her.

Jagannath offered a measured, warm smile. “Good,” he replied simply. Unlike his highly expressive wife, Jagannath was a man of few words, but the deep pride shining in his eyes was absolutely unmistakable. “Congratulations, Chetana,” he added warmly.

Matching his formal tone with a touch of playfulness, Chetana bowed dramatically. “Thank you, Father,” she replied.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head before returning to his reading. The rest of the afternoon passed in a pleasant haze of celebration.

Phone calls were enthusiastically made, relatives were swiftly informed, and joyful congratulations poured in from every possible direction. By the time evening arrived, the initial overwhelming excitement had finally begun to settle into a comfortable contentment. Chetana relaxed on the balcony, enjoying the cool breeze with her phone resting in her hand. A new message notification popped up from her friend, Kiran.

Kiran: Madam Software Engineer, congratulations on the new role!

Chetana: Thank you so much!

Kiran: Now, just make sure you don’t go forgetting about us ordinary people after you become rich and famous.

Chetana: Don’t worry, I promise I’ll remember you when I’m out shopping for my own private island.

A laughing emoji quickly appeared on the screen in response. As it usually did, their casual conversation drifted effortlessly from her new work prospects to the latest movies, and then inevitably wandered into completely random topics. Eventually, Kiran sent over a voice message.

“By the way,” Kiran’s recorded voice played through the speaker, “I was watching some serial on television yesterday, and they mentioned Rakshasas again. It got me thinking, why are Rakshasas always shown as the ultimate villains?“.

Chetana frowned slightly at the screen, considering the question. She typed out a quick, honest reply: Honestly, I don’t know much about them..

A moment later, another message arrived from Kiran: You should ask your father. He knows absolutely everything..

Chetana couldn’t help but laugh out loud, knowing that Kiran’s statement wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Whenever anyone in their family had complex questions regarding the scriptures, the intricate Puranas, deep philosophy, or obscure stories from Puranas, the universal answer was always the exact same.

Ask Jagannath.

Intrigued by the topic, she stood up from her spot on the balcony and walked back inside the house. Her father was still sitting comfortably in his favorite chair, thoroughly absorbed in reading a large, heavy volume.

Glancing at the cover, she identified the dense book as the Shiva Purana. Chetana approached him gently so as not to startle him.

“Father?” she asked softly.

“Hmm?” he replied, not fully looking away from the page. “What exactly are Rakshasas?“.

At this, Jagannath finally looked over the top of his reading glasses, his curiosity piqued. “That is a very broad question to ask on a peaceful evening,” he noted.

“Then just give me the broad answer,” she challenged playfully.

He closed his book, marking the page, and thought deeply for a moment. “Why the sudden interest in such a specific topic?“.

“Kiran asked me about it,” she explained.

“Ah,” he murmured, finding that explanation to be perfectly sufficient. He leaned back slightly in his chair, preparing to explain. “In popular culture and modern stories, Rakshasas are quite often simply reduced to mindless monsters. However, the actual reality described within the ancient scriptures is somewhat more complicated than that.”

Recognizing the familiar academic shift in his voice, Chetana immediately sat down nearby. She knew that distinct tone well; a comprehensive lecture was certainly coming. Unlike most people who might find such deep dives tedious, Chetana actually genuinely enjoyed listening to her father’s vast repository of knowledge.

Jagannath cleared his throat and continued. “According to traditional scriptural accounts, when Lord Brahma first created the primordial waters of the earth, certain specialized beings were entrusted with their absolute protection.”

“Protection?” Chetana echoed, surprised. “So, they weren’t created just to destroy things?“. “No,” Jagannath replied. “They were originally created to be protectors.”

Chetana nodded thoughtfully, absorbing this new information. That certainly wasn’t the menacing origin she had expected. “What else is there to know?” she prompted.

Jagannath smiled faintly at her eagerness. “Do you want the short version of the history, or the long version?“.

“The short version,” she replied immediately.

“The long version is significantly more interesting,” he countered smoothly. “Then give me the long version,” she conceded with a smile.

“Good choice,” he said, settling more comfortably into his chair to begin. “First, Rakshasas are intrinsically associated with the night. Biologically and spiritually, they are completely tied to it; they sleep during the daylight hours and become highly active right after sunset.”

Chetana blinked, trying to picture it. “Like owls?” she asked. “Something very much like that,” he agreed.

“That’s interesting,” she noted.

“Furthermore, they are widely known for possessing extraordinary supernatural abilities,” he added. “What kind of abilities?“.

“Primarily, shapeshifting,” Jagannath explained. “They hold a powerful magic that allows them to assume entirely different physical forms at will.”

“They can turn into humans?” she asked, her curiosity growing. “Yes,” he confirmed.

“Animals?“.

“Yes, that too,” he replied. “Anything else?“.

“Potentially anything,” he said simply.

Chetana raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Well, that is genuinely terrifying.”

“It certainly can be,” Jagannath continued in his calm, measured academic voice. “Additionally, they are also known for their flawless mimicry. They can perfectly imitate various voices and environmental sounds.”

“Perfectly?” she asked, a bit unsettled.

“In many of the ancient stories, yes, absolutely perfectly,” he affirmed.

Chetana vividly imagined a mysterious creature flawlessly copying a loved one’s voice in the dark and couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable. “That’s incredibly creepy,” she muttered.

“Which is exactly why the ability is so highly effective in disorienting or deceiving their opponents,” he pointed out.

She nodded slowly. That was a very fair point. Thinking back to the traditional stories she knew, she asked, “What about the Devatas?“.

“What about them specifically?” he countered.

“Did the Rakshasas and the Devatas ever get along?” she wondered.

Jagannath laughed softly at the notion. “Traditionally speaking? No, not particularly.” “So they were sworn enemies?” she clarified.

“I think ‘rivals’ would be a much more accurate word for their dynamic,” he corrected. “Why is that?“.

“They possessed fundamentally different natures, completely different goals, and occupied different places within the overall cosmic order,” Jagannath explained.

Chetana considered this deep complexity carefully. “So, you are saying that not every single Rakshasa was inherently evil?“.

“Certainly not,” he stated firmly.

That definitive answer genuinely surprised her, and her visible shock didn’t go unnoticed by Jagannath.

“Many people wrongly assume that the Puranas are simply divided into neat, simplistic categories,” he elaborated.

“Like good people on one side and bad people on the other?” she offered. “Exactly like that,” he said.

“And it isn’t like that?“.

“No, it isn’t,” he said, shaking his head. “If you read closely, there are remarkably noble Rakshasas who choose righteousness, and there are completely corrupt Devatas hidden in various stories.

Ultimately, individual character matters far more than the species one belongs to.”

Chetana smiled warmly. That sounded exactly like the kind of profound, balanced wisdom her father would impart.

For a long while, she sat in comfortable silence, actively absorbing everything he had just taught her. Protectors of the primordial waters. Nocturnal night dwellers who thrived in darkness. Masters of physical shapeshifting and flawless vocal mimicry. The fierce, ancient rivals of the celestial Devatas. The nuanced image rapidly forming in her mind was infinitely more interesting and complex than the one-dimensional monsters she had grown used to seeing depicted in dramatic television serials.

Eventually, feeling satisfied with her newfound knowledge, she stood up. “Thank you for the lesson, Father,” she said.

Jagannath reopened his heavy book, ready to dive back into his reading. “You are always welcome, my dear,” he replied.

Just as she turned and began to walk away, he added one final, thoughtful comment. “Chetana,” he called out.

She paused and turned back toward him. “Yes?“.

“Never make the mistake of assuming the Puranas are simple,” he warned gently, a small, knowing smile appearing on his face. “The ancient stories usually contain far more layers than they first appear to have.”

Chetana nodded in agreement. “I will make sure to remember that,” she promised.

A few minutes later, she comfortably returned to her bedroom and eagerly resumed her text conversation with Kiran. This time around, however, she was armed with comprehensive answers and a much deeper understanding of the lore.

And somewhere far away in the distant city of Dwaraka, completely unknown to her at this moment, there lived a young man named Advik whose hidden daily life embodied every single supernatural characteristic she had just spent the evening learning about.

But the collision of their two vastly different worlds was a story for another day.