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westland ltd THE KRISHNA KEY Ashwin Sanghi's first novel, The Rozabal Line, was self-published in Ancient Atomic Bombs; Jason Colavito; eBook, Editorial Reviews. About the Author. Ashwin Sanghi entrepreneur by day, novelist by night has dancindonna.info: The Krishna Key: Book 3 in the Bharat Series of Historical and Mythological Thrillers eBook: Ashwin Sanghi: Kindle Store. By Ashwin Sanghi (Author); Description Five thousand years ago there came to earth a magical being called Krishna who brought about innumerable miracles.


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LanguageEnglish. Krishna Key. IdentifierTheKrishnaKeyZEUSUPLOADS. Identifier-arkark://t13n61r7g. OcrABBYY FineReader Five thousand years ago, there came to earth a magicalbeing called Krishna, cover image of The Krishna Key. The Krishna Key. by Ashwin Sanghi. ebook. THE KRISHNA KEY - Newstract. Pages · · Similar Free eBooks. Filter by page Absolute Key To Occult Science, The Tarot Of The Bohemians.

By Author: Ashwin Sanghi Five thousand years ago, there came to earth a magical being called Krishna, who brought about innumerable miracles for the good of mankind. Humanity despaired of its fate if the Blue God were to die but was reassured that he would return in a fresh avatar when needed in the eventual Dark Age the Kaliyug. In modern times, a poor little rich boy grows up believing that he is that final avatar. Only, he is a serial killer. In this heart-stopping tale, the arrival of a murderer who executes his gruesome and brilliantly thought-out schemes in the name of God is the first clue to a sinister conspiracy to expose an ancient secret Krishna s priceless legacy to mankind. Historian Ravi Mohan Saini must breathlessly dash from the submerged remains of Dwarka and the mysterious lingam of Somnath to the icy heights of Mount Kailash, in a quest to discover the cryptic location of Krishna s most prized possession. From the sand-washed ruins of Kalibangan to a Vrindavan temple destroyed by Aurangzeb, Saini must also delve into antiquity to prevent a gross miscarriage of justice.

But The Krishna Key is unable to stitch together a coherent narrative. It focuses too much on the history and the mythological explanations, while ignoring important aspects of a novel like a solid narrative, the characterization and sometimes even logic. Later on, of course, this is explained. But my common sense tells me Ravi Saini should have found this odd at the time. Then there's the case of the events at the Somnath Temple and Mount Kailash.

That part of the book was completely wasted on depicting wild goose chases, which had very little to do with furthering the plot and mind you, I know the importance of wild goose chases in novels of this sort.

One remains so unaffected by any of them that it is difficult to even remember their names. It's because none of them make an impression on the reader of any sorts. The reasons given as to why the psychopath became a psychopath, are too feeble to be accepted without any argument. And most annoying of all, a bizarre love story was thrown in to the mix of history, mythology, murder-mystery and conspiracies towards the end.

It felt very jarring to the overall tone of the novel and was completely unnecessary in my opinion. Coming to the strong points of the book, the theories of Krishna being an actual historical figure are fascinating. So are the theories of an actual existence of a lost city of Dwarka and the Brahmastra being a metaphor for a device triggering a nuclear blast.

Particularly the tons of historical information with emphasis on the Vedas make for an intriguing read. Who would have known the significance of number and how this single number could be the explanation of The Big Bang? These serve as the ultimate fodder for the conspiracy theorist in each one of us. My favorite conspiracy theory from the lot has to be that Vedic era symbols are a part of most modern religions.

Now if I'm to consider my own review, then the number of shortcomings definitely outnumber the good things about this book. I did not hate it but I did not find myself caring about it a great deal either. The only reason I kept reading till the end was because the oodles of historical data and myths made it engrossing enough for me. I couldn't care less about whether Ravi Saini was killed by the psychopath or whether he got to solve the mystery.

For the real protagonist of The Krishna Key, is not Krishna or any of the characters, but the painstakingly done historical research. Overall, I give it a 2. An okay read but definitely not a memorable one. View all 28 comments. Jan 04, Mith rated it it was ok Shelves: I hadn't read any of Sanghi's books before picking this up, but if his writing skills in the Krishna Key is anything to go by, then I can safely say I dodged a couple of bullets. I won't waste space pointing out the innumerable similarities between the Krishna Key and the Da Vinci Code, as it's been done to death by the other reviewers on Goodreads.

Instead, let me put together a list in no particular order of stray observations I made while reading this book. It's going to be a LONG one, so p I hadn't read any of Sanghi's books before picking this up, but if his writing skills in the Krishna Key is anything to go by, then I can safely say I dodged a couple of bullets.

If anybody is labouring under the delusion that this is a book with a plot or a story, filled with action, intrigue, conflicts, resolutions and happy endings, let me stop you right here. This isn't so much a novel as one giant-ass lesson in history, mythology and theology. Sanghi has made use of the omniscient POV my least favourite kind while writing this book. This means that we get to know everything, everyone of the characters is thinking or saying or doing at all times - which can be an overload of information.

It also means, we don't get to spend enough quality time with any of the characters to be able to develop an attachment to them, and end up not caring about anything that happens to any of them - One of the characters nearly dies in an avalanche! Don't care. He is bleeding to death! All of a sudden, with nothing leading to it whatsoever, they're in love now! Watching paint dry is more exciting than these two.

They are trapped in a cave-in! Can we get on with the story already? The writing is awful. The descriptions of characters are extremely cringe-worthy and give the impression that Sanghi has only the vaguest ideas of how most Indians look like - - [He] had been blessed with godlike physical charms and unblemished complexion Half the time, the characters say things that are so unbelievable, that even suspension of disbelief doesn't quite work here.

Imagine, if you will, an Indian cop who says things like - " Cat got your tongue? You can check in any time but you can never leave! The editing is careless, to say the least. I can recall two instances page and where Radhika and Saini are referred to as Priya, respectively. At one point, Saini, an Indian professor, says to Priya, fellow Indian - " For your information, a yojana is about nine American miles Excuse me??

Since when did Indians stop using the metric system?? It is things like this that make me loathe to pick up books by Indian authors! From this one statement, it is SO OBVIOUS that Sanghi has written this book keeping probably non-existent American readers in mind, while the truth is that almost all of his readers will be Indians because, c'mon, which American in his right mind will want to read a Da Vinci Code rip-off?

Know your audience, Sanghi. Sanghi has a habit of over-sharing. Throughout the book we are told that the characters are wearing Reebok shoes or Levis jeans or carrying a Samsung Galaxy XCover or using an Apple iPad or driving a Yamaha bike with a cc engine or smoking a Cohiba cigar!!

Are you being paid to endorse these products, Sanghi?? Give us a gist of the scene and settings, and leave the rest to our imagination. Do not spoon-feed us and insult our intelligence! Speaking of insulting the reader's intelligence, Sanghi also has a habit of re-iterating key passages of the book during a big reveal.

In italics. I can almost hear his voice in my head going, Look! See how smart I am?!?!?! And since you're too stupid to figure it out on your own, I'm going to remind you about the hint by typing it again! In italics! Because that's how it's supposed to be done!!!!!!! Finally, let's talk about the plot. Can I say, contrived much?

So we begin with a Mr. He tells Saini to safeguard it for him as he is afraid his life might be in danger. Question, WHY is his life in danger, Mr. What gave him the idea? How did he convince those people to do this favour for him?

Also, Every character we ever meet conveniently has an abundance of knowledge on Indian history and can spout them at will. Even the so-called "mob boss" knows the ins and outs of Krishna's escapades, as well as detailed info on nuclear transmutations!!!!! Don't expect us to just go along with your story, Sanghi, make it believable! The ending. Oh God, the ending! The norm in reading a book is that the ending is supposed make the rest of the journey worthwhile.

That's the whole point of the book. Sanghi spectacularly fails in this. The ending is so abysmally done, you feel like tearing at your hair and throwing the book at the nearest wall, for having wasted your precious time on this drivel.

Through the whole book, they gather the seals, escape from death, travel across the country, only to be told, and in turn tell us, that paraphrasing "we should aim to be better people in life and only then we can be happy". Not a peep about the seals or the Krishna Key after that. So everybody in the book died for this?!

THE KRISHNA KEY - Newstract

TL;DR - Less thrills and more facepalms. Terrible writing. Shoddy editing. Contrived plot. No story. Severely lame ending. Too much historical information stuffed into one book. S - I am embarrassed to admit that I didn't see the reveal of Mataji coming.

THE KRISHNA KEY - Newstract PDF ( Pages)

But that might be because I really didn't care about the story at that point. View all 32 comments. Sep 21, Bookish Indulgenges with b00k r3vi3ws rated it it was ok Shelves: Well, there are 4 seals which once put together will point you towards that secret. Professor Varshney is one of the few who knows about this secret and he has a safety net. He had sent the clues to the secret to four of his most trusted friends. When he is murdered, the safety of this secret lies in the hands of those four people, but even they are turning up dead.

When bodies start dropping around him, Professor Saini is one of the main suspects, while little do authorities realise that Professor Saini is one of the targets too. In order to save himself from the actual murderer and the police, he has no other choice than to solve the puzzle.

The only people he can rely on are a doctoral student and a criminal lawyer. The chase and the hunt begin as Professor Saini tries to bring together all the four parts and put together the Krishna key.

Does the plot sound familiar to you? Since I have also watched the movie — Tom Hanks kept popping up in my mind while reading this book. But the fact remains that I do know and so this book feels like nothing but an Indian adaption of the original.

Some of the common terms in India have been replaced by the common American terms for the same thing. I mean really? Granted that the author has tried to take a different approach, but with the similar outline and protagonist, it is difficult to be different.

However, I have to acknowledge the hard work that the Author must have put into the book. From Mahabharata to the Vedas to the different Indian civilizations, he has thoroughly reasearched everything. I had no idea about a lot of things that were mentioned in the book and I was intrigued enough to actually look them up. Also, to actually build that information up and providing them in a package of thriller must have been difficult.

Ashwin Sanghi command over the language is extremely good. So overall, I would say that this book excels in aspects of research that has gone into it and also its presentation. It would serve as a good and healthy dose of Indian history, but end of the day, it still reminds me too much of Da Vinci Code and since that was published first; the credit of originality definitely goes to Dan Brown.

Would I recommend this book to anyone? View all 10 comments. Oct 25, Confirmed Neurotic rated it did not like it. Moreover my interest was also piqued by the YouTube advertisement of the book that popped up a few times when I was trying to watch some popular videos. So I got this book from Delhi Railway station during my recent Delhi-Mumbai journey, mainly because I shuddered at the thought of a dreadful 24 hour journey in an equally horrible train, "The Krishna Key" is an utter waste of time.

So I got this book from Delhi Railway station during my recent Delhi-Mumbai journey, mainly because I shuddered at the thought of a dreadful 24 hour journey in an equally horrible train, The Golden Temple Express.

I am not sure whether the author understand the meaning of research or whether mentioning some so called research papers of dubious origin in bibliography at the end of the book would make it look like a well researched book. I am seriously skeptical about both. The author have made such comical assumptions and hypothesis that it is hard to distinguish at times whether you are reading a mystery or the manifesto of some Right-wing organization like RSS or BJP.

Seriously, believe me!! Not to deviate from the point; This books jumps and meanders aimlessly from topic to topic including, nuclear war, nuclear missiles, alchemy, atomic power-plants, numerology, mythology, vedas, Mahabharata and modern times. I assume such a random and seemingly unrelated course was taken just to fill up the stipulated numbers of pages mentioned in the publisher's agreement and writers contract. The characters are poor caricature of real life people and can be best described as cardboardish.

A college professor who knows everything, a killer who kills in broad daylight, a femme-fatale who is a Krishna devotee, a tough honest cop whose staple diet is almonds plus cigarette, a gangster from Mumbai, a corrupt cop who is a CBI director and sundry other funny and useless characters that neither contributes to the story line nor takes the narration forward. You know what kind of thriller you are reading when the main villains are called "Mataji" "Vakeel" and "Sir Khan".

Our own desi Mogambo, the sci-fi villain eternally etched in Indian psyche would have been proud of these names. The narration is so tedious that the same "facts" appear and reappears millions of times in the book. Yawn inducing and totally unnecessary. It's a shame that neither Indian film directors nor Indian writers have learned the subtle art of conveying information to their audiences.

Reading "The Krishna Key" conversation part is akin to watching a B-grade Bollywood movie with banal dialogues and too much verbal diarrhea. Now let us deconstruct the originality of the book. People might argue the similarity with Dan Brown are many, but I wont even dream to compare this pathetic book with the highly entertaining books from Mr. Forget about it, just because "The Krishna Key" is based on a "story" of historical conspiracy doesn't elevates it to the standard of "The Da-Vinci Code".

There are chapters and so the entire Mahabharata from start to finish is summarized part by part at the beginning of each chapters.

It's a verbatim copy; so much so that the author have not even bothered to change a single word or picture from those Wikipedia articles. Comical ideas that Vishnu and Shiva are the same energies in opposite direction are mentioned.

The author has fabricated names of the Lords to fit his stupid conspiracy theory. All these incoherent crap is inserted in a wafer thin storyline. I was not able to understand what the story was, neither was I able to understand why the climax was based on the popular e-mail that originated a few years ago stating "Taj-Mahal is a Hindu temple.

I am sure many of you have seen that email that states "Taj-Mahal" was actually called "Tejo-Mahalaya" meaning the abode of Lord Shiva. The author have taken that email and weaved the climax of this book around that email.

Hat's off to the originality!! To end the review, I just want to say this is one of the worst book, I have read in recent time. Do not waste your time and money on this book. Grab a classic and enjoy it. View 2 comments. Dec 13, Vani rated it liked it. Five thousand years ago, Krishna, the eighth avatar of Lord Vishnu left a legacy, one that will befuddle men for ages, until one man decides to unravel this secret. Not wanting to risk the discovery of all the seals at one place, Five thousand years ago, Krishna, the eighth avatar of Lord Vishnu left a legacy, one that will befuddle men for ages, until one man decides to unravel this secret.

The latter considers himself to be the tenth avatar of Lord Vishnu and is out to get what he thinks belongs to him. With the police on his chase, how will Saini prove himself not guilty? What will happen to the other three people who also have the ancient seals from Varshney? Did Krishna truly leave behind a legacy? Can Ravi Mohan Saini unravel this secret?

The book is tightly scripted with each chapter beginning with a story about Krishna, followed by its parallel drawn from modern times. The plot is wonderfully paced and the story is well researched.

Having a professor of mythology as the key protagonist works well as he is the only who can make sense of those countless riddles, mythological references, anagrams, cryptic puzzles, Sanskrit shlokas and messages hidden from Mount Kailash to Taj Mahal. Add to it a serial killer and a Mumbai don and that's all you need for a perfect thriller. Aside that, the novel has an interesting cast, their backgrounds nicely explained and motives sufficiently clear.

Overall, I found it an interesting novel. Sep 19, Alpa Dedhia rated it really liked it. So no point in talking more on it. The book is divided into chapters and each chapter starts with shlokas which tell us the story of Krishna. After these shlokas, the present day story continues. Now, on the plot. Krishna has been the most intriguing God in Indian Mythology. He has left 4 seals which when brought together would give The Krishna Key which perhaps points to elixir of life or may be something else.

Watch out for that in the book folks. The history of Mahabharata and Krishna is seen from four different perspectives. One of a historian. Another of an archaeologists. Another one of a scientist and lastly, a perspective of a geneticist. All the four perspectives are interesting and give clues to find Krishna Key. Also I had a shock of my life correlating these perspectives.

They are absolutely stunning and make you wonder about the truth we have been hearing to all our lives. Each character is well-defined and yes they do tend scatter here and there but the pace of the story makes up for it. It has two kick-ass women protagonists to watch for. Well too much is too bad.

The story tends to give in too much of information citing facts and evidences. It is an adrenaline rush in the beginning but for the last pages or so I was too tired to sink in the information. It gave an impression of dispersed information and seemed like had-the-information-so-had-to-put-it. Still,it is a teeny-weeny negligible POV my point of view to ignore.

In essence, The Krishna Key is a fast pace thriller which will give you an adrenaline rush. You will have tough time to put it down but at the same time last few pages will exhaust you a bit.

So, please have a mug of coffee ready. Lastly, my oh my, where was I. Why did I not read Ashwin Sanghi before. There is a special place for Mr. Sanghi on my bookshelf now. Keep writing my new-found favorite author. View all 8 comments. Nov 04, Dimple rated it it was amazing. The notion about this book and Ashwin Sanghi that it's an Indian version of Dan Brown's work, is absolutely correct but this fact doesnt make the work of Sanghi inferior in any manner!

It is full of suspense, twists and turns with very interesting ending! It made me realize the essence of life "Simplicity"!! View all 7 comments. Jul 04, Vikas Singh rated it it was amazing Shelves: Ashwin Sanghi, as it is being referred to for some time now, is the Dan Brown of Indian adventure, and this book puts a stamp on it.

After two bestselling titles, Rozabal Line and Chanakya's Chant , The Krishna Key is his 3rd book, all of them under adventure genre. Juvenile Priya is his associate.

History is in their genes. Then comes Inspector Radhika, a toughened-up cop after fam Background: Then comes Inspector Radhika, a toughened-up cop after family loss and her subordinate Rathore. Other characters who play important roles at times are Taarak Vakil, the villian, and a CBI director with grey shades.

Various mini characters historians and scientists, mainly have their share too in providing the historical and mysterious flavour to the story. The reader will like them in regard to the shape their involvement with the protagonists gives to the story.

Not all characters are well-established but such ain't missed as the story has its own pace to follow. In author's own words: Humanity despaired of its fate if the Blue God were to die but was reassured that he would return in a fresh avatar when needed in the eventual Dark Age - the Kaliyug.

Yes, it's a Krishna based story but of modern times. It also means, we don't get to spend enough quality time with any of the characters to be able to develop an attachment to them, and end up not caring about anything that happens to any of them - One of the characters nearly dies in an avalanche!

Don't care. He is bleeding to death! All of a sudden, with nothing leading to it whatsoever, they're in love now! Watching paint dry is more exciting than these two. They are trapped in a cave-in! Can we get on with the story already? The writing is awful. The descriptions of characters are extremely cringe-worthy and give the impression that Sanghi has only the vaguest ideas of how most Indians look like - - [He] had been blessed with godlike physical charms and unblemished complexion Half the time, the characters say things that are so unbelievable, that even suspension of disbelief doesn't quite work here.

Imagine, if you will, an Indian cop who says things like - "Cat got your tongue? You can check in any time but you can never leave! The editing is careless, to say the least. I can recall two instances page and where Radhika and Saini are referred to as Priya, respectively. At one point, Saini, an Indian professor, says to Priya, fellow Indian - "For your information, a yojana is about nine American miles Excuse me??

Since when did Indians stop using the metric system?? It is things like this that make me loathe to pick up books by Indian authors! From this one statement, it is SO OBVIOUS that Sanghi has written this book keeping probably non-existent American readers in mind, while the truth is that almost all of his readers will be Indians because, c'mon, which American in his right mind will want to read a Da Vinci Code rip-off?

Know your audience, Sanghi. Sanghi has a habit of over-sharing. Throughout the book we are told that the characters are wearing Reebok shoes or Levis jeans or carrying a Samsung Galaxy XCover or using an Apple iPad or driving a Yamaha bike with a cc engine or smoking a Cohiba cigar!!

Quite obviously, you are going to find my fingerprints everywhere in his house! But that does not mean that I killed him! The only expression that Saini provided was that of extreme discomfort—from the heat, humidity and stench. How do you explain that, eh?

It was obviously something very valuable considering the fact that you were willing to kill a childhood friend over it! He gave me the seal for safekeeping. He said that he would explain the details later. Singh pulled out a photograph from her file. It was a 6 x 4 glossy close-up of the scalpel that had been used to bleed Anil Varshney to death. Singh knew she had the upper hand. She quickly flung another photograph towards Saini. Plunged into his left foot was the scalpel; on his forehead was the wheel-like symbol, and above his head on the wall was the shloka written in blood.

Saini recoiled in horror. It was the first time that he was seeing the manner in which his friend had been brutally slayed. Ignoring the sediment in the glass, he took a gulp of water and regretted his decision as soon as his nostrils picked up the fetid stench emanating from it.

What she did not realise was that in the confusion that followed, his lawyer had picked up the specimen bag containing the seal and had concealed it in his jacket with the speed and dexterity of an experienced pickpocket. A furious Kansa summoned his ministers. What should I do? We should kill all infants that are less than two months old. This will take care a small earthen plate—around four centimetres long and an equal four centimetres wide.

One quickly started oxygen therapy in order to ensure that the heart had to work as little as possible when delivering oxygen to the rest of the body. She noticed that the doctor had commenced CPR while his assistant had taken out the defibrillator and was hurriedly issuing instructions to the nurse. He pressed the paddles firmly onto the gel pads, applying twenty-five pounds of pressure. She waited for the emergency personnel to load him into the ambulance and then got into the vehicle along with the doctor.

The sirens were switched on and the familiar red and blue lights on the roof of the ambulance were activated as they sped towards their destination. If one headed south of the hospital along Jawaharlal Nehru Road and went around the Jawahar Circle Garden, one could be at Jaipur airport in less than ten minutes from Fortis Escorts.

Suddenly, the prison doctor tapped on the screen separating the driver from the rear of the ambulance. The ambulance driver manually slid the glass screen open on the assumption that the doctor had some instructions for him. Before the driver could observe who had knocked, a punch hit him on the lower left side of his face. It was a powerful uppercut that knocked his head violently towards the windscreen.

Punch me hard on my face! She recoiled instinctively only to see the doctor holding out a plastic bag stuffed with clothes.

A private taxi—a Toyota Innova—is waiting at the main entrance of the hotel. Get into it. The driver will take you to a private charter aircraft belonging to Titan Aviation. They were terrified that Kansa would find me. Stop worrying. Raise him carefully, though, because many demons will try to kill him on the orders of Kansa. He had been having a nightmare. A minute later, Saini had been wide awake and aware that the monster had been a figment of his imagination, probably stirred into overdrive by the photographs of his childhood friend having been bled to death from his foot.

As the blurred images became sharper, Saini had become aware that he was lying on a metal-frame bed in the prison infirmary and was surrounded by several people—the prison doctor, a nurse, the prison warden, Priya and her father.

The figure was accurate, except for the fact that it had accrued each minute of the year, irrespective of whether he had been awake or asleep, in court or attending a page-three event, in India or abroad, eating breakfast or brushing his teeth. A maverick to the core, the rebel in Ratnani forced him to take up cases that were lost causes, high-profile crimes, or simply controversial.

He went on to bag an LLB at the tender age of seventeen. As per the university rules, t for qualifying as a lawyer was twenty-one but a special resolution passed by the authorities had allowed him to start practising at eighteen. The principle that Ratnani lived by was that good lawyers knew the law but great lawyers knew the judge.

They call her Sniffer Singh in the police force. The prison doctor and infirmary nurse quietly left the cordoned-off bed, leaving the patient alone with his lawyer, his student and the warden. I would willingly have laid down my life for him. All I know is that he was on the verge of a major historical discovery and that he was very worried that enemies would possibly try to wrest it from him. Your fingerprints were present at the murder site.

Worst of all is that damn scalpel that has your initials on it. What did Varshney do with the other three? The first, Dr Nikhil Bhojaraj, lives aboard an exploration ship that is anchored off the coast of Gujarat. Another friend, Rajaram Kurkude, is a nuclear scientist based in Jodhpur. Apparently, he spoke with Bhojaraj and shared his plan with him. His testimony would dramatically alter the case against you.

It was put there by my good friend, the prison warden. It had been spiked with Ipecac syrup to induce vomiting. It gave us the perfect excuse to bring you to the infirmary. We simply need the cooperative infirmary doctor who is waiting outside to certify that you had palpitations. That would be more than enough reason to shift you.

Now, will you let me get on with the job of saving your ass? He sighed. The prison doctor stood quietly outside the curtain to the cubicle, listening to the conversation, clutching a small syringe that was ready and waiting to be used on the patient inside. He knew what he had to do. No sooner had the cubicle emptied out, the prison doctor moved in. Saini had nodded off, possibly courting his demons once again. The doctor held up the syringe to the light and checked the quantity of fluid inside it.

Epinephrine was a commonly used drug for handling emergency allergies. It could be fatal if administered in the wrong dose. But this was just the perfect dose—sufficient to cause the symptoms of a heart attack without actually causing one. She told my mother Yashoda that she was the wife of a pious Brahmin and wished to breastfeed me in order to bestow longevity upon me.

But I—an incarnation of Vishnu—know everything. I bit Putana hard and sucked out her praana from her breast, causing her to die instantly. The pilot gave their ID cards a cursory once-over and then left them alone.

His archaeological undersea expeditions off the Dwarka coast are all about proving that the great city described in the Mahabharata did exist. It is his hypothesis that if Dwarka existed, Krishna must also have existed. Modern Dwarka is simply a municipality of Jamnagar district in Gujarat. Why did Krishna travel this incredible distance to establish a city?

Saini thought for a moment about how he should frame his reply. Krishna was a Yadava and his clan was quite possibly the first democratic society ever. They were a federation of eighteen tribes and each tribe had their own chieftain—like Ugrasena of Mathura—but all of them jointly elected one single Yadava leader as their supreme governor.

So why shift a thousand kilometres? He failed to capture it, owing to the defensive tactics employed by Krishna and his brother Balarama, but on the final occasion Krishna realised that he would have to make a strategic withdr a small earthen plate—around four centimetres long and an equal four centimetres wide. It was a decision that would result in Krishna being branded Ranchor—the one who leaves the battlefield—forever.

Even today, people in Gujarat refer to Krishna as Ranchor. Curious, she looked at the yellow notepad that Saini was writing on.

Saini smiled. These are dates derived from the planetary calculations that I was presenting to the class the other day. I would like to give these to Dr Bhojaraj and see whether his archaeological finds are in sync with them. Below them was a vast expanse of water. They were crossing the Gulf of Kutch. A few moments later they saw an extra-long jetty protruding into the waters.

The ship moorings are located fifteen kilometres away from the coast.

The Krishna Key

The moorings are for importing crude oil and also for exporting diesel and gasoline. The typhoon demon, Trinavarta, was despatched to Gokul to kill me.

Seeing me playing alone in the courtyard, Trinavarta lifted me off the ground and soared high into the clouds. Nanda and Yashoda ran after me, aghast at the sight of their beloved child being carried away by a typhoon. Depleted of all his energy, Trinavarta was compelled to drop me back on earth and into the waiting arms of my adoptive parents. Once inside the car, Priya noticed that Saini was attempting to keep his excitement in check. He kept referring to his notes and also jotted down further remarks at the margins.

Saini was convinced. All his evidence pointed to the great war having taken place five thousand years ago.

Key ebook krishna

He knew it in his gut. Even though he was a hunted man who was on the run consequent to a prison break, the history professor in him was excited that he would soon meet Dr Bhojaraj and see the ancient objects that his team had discovered off the coast of modern Dwarka city. Priya looked out of her car window only to see the usual mess that greeted visitors to most growing Indian cities—potholed roads, bullock carts jostling for space with smoke-spewing trucks, beggars, tea vendors, stray dogs, and hapless policemen who could not possibly control any of the chaos surrounding them.

Priya spoke up. Massive expanses of land were reclaimed from the sea in order to achieve this. The fabulously beautiful city of Dwarka that emerged in Gujarat was a city of palaces, gardens, lakes, temples, sculptures, and unimaginable wealth. Until quite recently, most historians had viewed the legendary Dwarka of Krishna as a mythical city but for many explorers like Dr Bhojaraj, Dwarka has always existed.

Dr Bhojaraj had been part of the famous archaeologist S. The team soon discovered underwater stone walls and six layers of ruins—proof of what was written in the ancient texts that the city had been built upon previous cities. Our team consisted of expert underwater explorers, trained diver-photographers and archaeologists.

We combined geophysical surveys with echo-sounders, mud-penetrators, sub-bottom profilers and underwater metal detectors and carried out twelve marine archaeological expeditions. The antiquities recovered were sent to the Physical Research Laboratory for dating. Using thermo-luminescence and carbon dating, we found that the artefacts belonged to a period around three thousand seven hundred years ago. The astronomical data from the Mahabharata tells us that the war must have happened around five thousand years ago.

This is validated by the Greek accounts too! On it were two outlines of the Indian peninsular coastline. The first one showed what the landmass of the Indian subcontinent would have looked like several thousand years previously, whereas the second showed the same landmass in the present day.

This drop results in accumulation of glacial ice. The most recent ice age in our history began around a hundred and ten thousand years ago, peaked twenty thousand years ago, and concluded around ten thousand years ago. Thereafter glaciers began to melt and released massive quantities of water into the oceans. Obviously, sea levels began to rise.

The effect was the inundation of almost a quarter of a million square kilometres of land along the west coast of India! If we continue our explorations outwards along the ocean floor we will find older remains.

Dwarka is a continuum—a city that was built and rebuilt seven times. The most recent reconstruction is modern-day Dwarka city but the oldest is out in the ocean, where rising sea levels have inundated it. Mother Yashoda took some food and money outside for him, but he refused to accept any of it. He simply wanted to see me. Worried about my safety after the recent spate of events, my mother agreed to bring me outside on the condition that the sadhu would promise to only look, not touch.

He agreed. She brought me out and the sadhu fell to his knees when he saw me. Shiv and Vish, after all, are only two sides of the same coin. The text described how Dwarka was conceived and constructed: Kalpiteyam maya bhoomih pashyadhvam devasadmavat nama chasyah kritam puryaah khyaatim yadupayaasyati. It is almost like heaven. I have also decided a name for this city by which it will become famous. At that very instant, the preceptor of architects, Vishwakarma, the best among the devas with great intellect, stood before Krishna.

Vishvakarmovaacha shakrena preshitah kshipram tava vishno dhriitavrata ki nkarah samanupraaptaha shaadhi maam kim karomite. Sent here urgently by Indra, I have come here as your servant.

Tell me, what do you want me to do? Let men see my city as the seat of prosperity of the Yadava people. Hearing what was said, Krishna, the best among speakers, who had already made up his mind, spoke to the ocean—the lord of rivers.

Samudra dasha cha dve cha yojanaani jalaashaye pratisamhriyatamaatma yadyasti mayi manyata. Please leave an area of ten and two yojanas within you, if you respect me. Saini reached the end of the extract and looked up at the assistant who was smiling. What does that prove? As the waters withdraw, one is then free to construct on the bed of rock that has thus been created. We now have scientific evidence that land reclamation was undertaken in ancient times!

Thirty minutes later he noticed that an SMS had just come in on his mobile phone. Unconcerned, I kicked the cart with such force that it flew up high into the air and shattered into thousands of tiny pieces. The news of the ambulance crash had reached Rathore within fifteen minutes of the event. He had been on his way to play a game of squash at the Police Gymkhana when his phone rang.

After listening to the report from his junior, he had pulled up alongside the pavement to get his thoughts in order. He expected that all hell would break loose when he conveyed the information to Radhika Singh. He took a deep breath and pressed the speed dial on his mobile phone. They were shifting Saini to Fortis Escorts when the ambulance driver was ambushed. There was no hint of annoyance or irritation in her voice. Check all flight manifests of aircraft out of Jaipur.

Interrogate the general manager of the hotel. Get that rodent of a prison doctor to meet me immediately. Track the cell phones of both him and his daughter—Priya. The seal that was lying along with other evidence in the interrogation room has disappeared. I instinctively know that Ratnani is behind all of this. Now let me tell you a little about the birth of my true love, Radha. Chief Vrishabhanu was returning from his bath in the Yamuna when he saw a pond. In its centre was a stunning golden lotus containing a beautiful baby girl.

Take her home, O Lord. But Radha did not open her eyes for the first five years and her parents assumed that she was blind. In reality, she was simply awaiting my arrival. When I was born, Vrishabhanu invited my foster family to his home for lunch. The five-year-old Radha—who had kept her eyes closed till then—opened her eyes and the first image captured by her eyes was that of my face!

Priya, who had climbed up first, offered her hand in mock chivalrous fashion to assist him. He gallantly declined. The young Tamil assistant of Dr Nikhil Bhojaraj was still in the launch. Saini nodded his assent and walked towards the laboratory, with Priya a couple of steps behind him. Luckily, direction signs marked all significant areas of the vessel.

Radha had been built by Hyundai Heavy Industries—the largest shipbuilding yard in the world and the direction signs were typical of Korean attention to detail. Saini paused outside the door and knocked. There was no answer. Saini looked at Priya quizzically and knocked once more.

When there was only silence, Saini caught hold of the door handle, pulled it downwards and swung open the door easily. The sight that greeted him made him want to jump off the boat and into the deep blue waters without a life jacket. He tiptoed gingerly to the far wall on which a Sanskrit shloka had been written in blood. Just underneath the shloka lay the slumped body of Dr Nikhil Bhojaraj, his legs at right angles to his torso, surrounded by a pool of blood that had begun to coagulate.

Almost identical in every respect to the murder scene photograph shown by Inspector Radhika Singh to him in Jaipur. You will need to cut the duct tape away. She felt around his wrist until she found a vein just underneath his thumb.

After a minute, she looked up at Saini who was standing over her and shook her head. There was no response. The only sound was the steady hum of the power generator and the gentle lapping of waves against the hull of Radha. She tried the door to the utility room but it was jammed shut. She tried another door but it led to a storage closet. She returned to Saini who seemed to be absorbed by the shloka on the wall.

We need to get out of here. Priya wordlessly reached into the pocket of her Levis, pulled out her Samsung Galaxy Xcover and handed it over to Saini who had acquired an almost robotic demeanour. He pointed the phone at the wall and took a few photographs of the shloka and returned the phone to her. Bhojaraj has been killed in exactly the same manner as Varshney was.

In both instances, you were at the scene of the crime. Even the assistant who brought us here on the schooner has disappeared, so we have no way of getting to shore except by manoeuvring this massive ship towards the coast, which seems impossible, given our limited expertise. He was staring at a silver bracelet that lay on the floor.

He screwed up his eyes to discern each letter. Taarak Vakil. Saini seemed lost in thought. He carefully picked up the bracelet and placed it in his trouser pocket. Hindu scriptures talk of the universe consisting of the saptadweep —seven islands—but all seven islands were right here in Dwarka itself… Dwarka was the world! This is pathbreaking research!

He paused for a moment before he spoke again.

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She quickly attached and emailed the photos to her personal account. No one called me Krishna in Gokul. I was lovingly called Kanhaiya or Kanha—the adolescent—by the village folk.

My pranks and naughtiness were a frequent topic of discussion. When the women would run complaining to Yashoda, I would put on my most innocent face, shed a few tears, and claim that I was innocent. Instead, she would pick me up and shower even more of her maternal love upon me.

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His vessel was a rather basic and primitive craft but was ideally suited to the one function that its owner needed it to perform—fishing. This particular type of boat could not be sunk despite any number of tumbles. The boat was small, but due to the independently sealed buoyancy chambers beneath, the sea could safely wash over the deck without swamping it.

A polyurethane-insulated compartment below his deck had been provided to protect his daily catch from the hot sun, preserving some of its freshness till reaching shore. In the event of an emergency, the fisherman could simply hold his catch in the fishing net, tie it to the craft and use the lightweight boat as a floatation device. The fisherman who owned the boat—Iqbal Patel—had started his day at dawn and was rather pleased with his catch. He was humming a Bollywood tune as he headed for the shore—when he was shocked out of his reverie by two human heads bobbing in the water, followed by two pairs of hands reaching out to grasp the edge of his boat.

Having convinced himself that the two heads and four hands were not parts of a mutated sea monster, Iqbal cleared his throat and spoke. Neither Saini nor Priya spoke his native tongue, so they explained to him in Hindi that they needed his help as their own boat had developed a technical snag some distance out to sea.

Iqbal suspiciously helped them into his tiny craft. As Saini and Priya sat down in exhaustion, Iqbal, scrutinised them suspiciously. Fishing off the coast of Gujarat was an inherently risky enterprise. Both Indian and Pakistani naval vessels operated in these waters and it was not uncommon for innocent fishermen to be arrested by opposite sides for having strayed across international boundaries. Iqbal was a Koli—a member of a fishing tribe.

The word koli meant spider or alternatively, one who could weave a web-like fishing net. Most Kolis were Hindus but several of them had been converted to Islam during the Mughal period. There was an uncomfortable silence between Iqbal and his uninvited guests. Countless questions were racing through his mind. Who were these two? What had really happened to their boat? Would he be questioned by the local police for assisting them?

Were they Indian or Pakistani nationals? What had they been doing so far out at sea? Was he obliged to report them when they reached land? Perceiving that their host was not entirely convinced by their explanation, Saini tried thinking of how they could make an ally out of Iqbal. GPS satellites and the network providers are probably tracking your phone on the instructions of the cops. She quickly punched in a sequence of letters, numbers and characters into her phone.

Should I chuck the SIM card and give him just the phone? Sometimes my elder brother Balarama and I would go into the cowshed and catch a calf by its tail. The little animal would end up dragging us around in the mud and we would soon be covered in it. Yashoda never attempted to spank us for such naughtiness. Once, when I had stolen butter for the umpteenth time, Yashoda tried tying me to a huge grinding mortar. I kept using my powers to shorten the rope thus making it impossible for her to tie me.

I relented when I saw tears of helplessness in her eyes. Taking pity on her, I allowed the rope to elongate so that she could successfully tie me up. I then continued walking with the mortar tied to my back. As I passed between two Arjuna trees, the mortar got wedged between the trunks, and the two mighty trees fell—and turned into demigods. A murder had occurred in Gujarat. The modus operandi was strikingly similar to the one being investigated by the Rajasthan Police. It was time to tackle the crime centrally, given the fact that the perpetrator—or perpetrators—had conceivably crossed state borders.

Radhika Singh read the message a second time slowly, chewing the last of her almonds as she went through it. This was not a good development.

Controlled by the Department of Personnel and Training in the Ministry of Personnel, the CBI usually took directions from its political masters and the result was a plethora of unsolved cases, allegations of partisanship and insinuations of corruption. Even though the CBI was the official Interpol unit for India, it was hardly an exemplary division in the world of policing.

Radhika read through the details that had been shared by the Indian Coast Guard. It had been sent there after an anonymous tip-off from a man with a mild Tamil accent. The tip-off had corroborated a call received by the police control room in response to the television bulletins. The chopper had alerted the ICGS Vishwast, a Coast Guard vessel patrolling the Gujarat coast, and armed personnel from the Vishwast had boarded Radha after repeated attempts to establish radio contact had failed.

The comatose crew had been shifted to the naval hospital. The matter had been brought to the attention of one of the Special Directors of the CBI—Sunil Garg—who had noticed the glaring similarities between the two cases.

Radhika preferred that the case remain entirely with her. Taking a deep breath, she picked up her desk phone and called Sunil Garg. She would need to play her cards carefully—very carefully indeed. She smiled as she waited for him to pick up the phone, her free hand rotating her prayer beads. When Radhika Singh smiled, which was a rare occurrence, it usually meant that she had already won the game. One day my cowherd friends and I were playing when my friends chanced upon what they thought was a mountain cave.

But the cave was actually the mouth of the demon Aghasura—an eight-mile-long snake.

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I was very worried when my friends rushed in because I knew that it was no cave. I followed them inside in order to save their lives as also to finish off Aghasura once and for all. She was much more than a floating vessel, though. She was a technologically advanced mobile research station capable of transporting scientists, divers, archaeologists, mariners, their submersibles and their equipment with a high degree of safety and comfort. She had been customised to carry state-of-the-art electronics, analytical computers, and navigational and communications systems to collect and decipher information that was gathered from the exploration missions that the team undertook.

Seventy feet in length, weighing in at seventy-seven tons and boasting a cruising speed of sixteen knots, Radha was constructed almost entirely from fiberglass. The vessel had berthing for eight scientists and two crewmembers. Radha had a well-designed deck plan. The deck aft of the ship included a substantial work area, a steering station to manoeuvre the vessel, and a dive platform at water level to provide divers and submersibles easy and safe access to the water.

Hydraulic connections, an A-frame, a winch and a mixing station for Nitrox—a special gas mixture used in technical diving—provided additional capabilities for scientific research projects.

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Radha also contained a substantial research laboratory on board. The main laboratory was a large, open-space, general-purpose lab directly accessible from the main deck whereas the bio-analytical lab was isolated from the rest of the area to allow for sensitive equipment and temperature control.

Deeper inside was a wet lab that allowed scientists to collect and analyse seawater samples in an uncontaminated, watertight environment. Inside the laboratory of Radha, Nikhil Bhojaraj had been looking at the printouts while awaiting his visitors —Saini and Priya.

He smiled to himself. It was a smile of quiet satisfaction from the realisation that his goal was near. The l a small earthen plate—around four centimetres long and an equal four centimetres wide.

The present-day satellite map of modern Dwarka city was on the printout. If one saw this particular printout, it seemed as though most of Dwarka city was part of the mainland with the exception of Bet Dwarka island. However, when one saw the territory via high-resolution terrain data capture using Light Detection and Ranging—LiDAR technology—it became evident that Dwarka would have been a cluster of islands rather than a single homogenous land mass connected to the mainland.

It would have been a city-state extending up to the island of Shankhodhara in the north and Okhamadhi in the south. It also explained the hundreds of stone anchors that had been discovered by the team. It was evident that the people of Dwarka would have been seafarers and that vast ships would have docked here. The island layout of the city-state of Dwarka had disappeared in modern times but the ancient layout would have justified the Sanskrit name of Dwarawati—the city of many doors.

Krishna and his people were not referring to the doors of houses and palaces when they gave their city a name. They were alluding to the vast number of sea openings by which ships could enter Dwarka! The Mahabharata recounted that flags were to be seen fluttering along the walls of Dwarka. Bhojaraj had even discovered the heavy stone bases of flag posts along the perimeter walls. Of course, his crowning moment had been the discovery of the seal bearing the motif of a three-headed animal representing the bull, unicorn and goat which he had proudly shared with Varshney.

He was expecting his visitors soon. He was puzzled to have received a call from a woman calling herself Priya Ratnani requesting for an appointment as well as an airport pick-up from Jamnagar.

Damn academics! He heard the sound of a motorboat approaching. It would be Saini and Priya being brought over by his assistant. He stood up and stretched himself. Bhojaraj glanced at the screen for barely a second when he saw the photo along with a text box next to it.

Contact if you have any information. Ravi Mohan Saini. Case number: Distinguishing marks: Black birthmark on right ankle. Warrant issued: Warrant number: The man who wanted to see hi a small earthen plate—around four centimetres long and an equal four centimetres wide.

The first entry that came up was a news item from the Hindustan Times, New Delhi. Anil Varshney was dead! All forms of life in the Yamuna had begun to die because a ten-hooded ocean serpent called Kalia had been releasing venom into the waters. With the intention of putting an end to the Kalia menace, I jumped into the Yamuna on the pretext of bringing out a ball that had fallen in.

After a struggle with Kalia, I emerged from the depths of the water dancing upon the hood of Kalia. Bhojaraj stood frozen to the floor for a moment. He felt numb—almost paralysed by shock and fear. His friend, Varshney, was dead and the very person accused of murdering him was on his way over to meet him. What was the purpose of such a visit?

To kill him too? Having deliberated the issue for a couple of minutes, he walked over to the phone that hung by the entrance door of the lab, picked it up and dialled the telephone number that was scrolling on the screen.

Is that the police control room? He fell backwards on the floor, and passed out. The frogman stepped into the laboratory, quickly locked the door behind him and hung up the phone that was dangling from its cord. He had scuba tanks strapped to his back and around his waist was a watertight rubber bag. Taarak Vakil pulled off his facemask and unzipped his rubber bag.