Dharmachakra

 Dharmachakra

“Revolts,” the emperor said, addressing to his prime minister, “Revolts often emerge either to protest against the decisions of a monarch or to dethrone him altogether. The first kind of revolts that are built on the lone pillar of justice can be resolved by proper understanding. The other kind of revolts, however, are nothing but tactics played by another ruler who deludes innocent people into rebelling so that he could conquer the kingdom.”

“People of Avanti would never go against you, your majesty,” Prime Minister Radhagupta said. “Why would anyone feel discomfort on such generous decisions issued by you?”

The emperor’s dolorous eyes flickered as he gazed at the giant sculpture of lion, standing prestigiously beside the magnificent throne of Magadh.

“Serenity of mind, Radhagupta,” the emperor grumbled. “It took me four years of dreadful wars and enormous bloodshed to realize that serenity of mind cannot be attained through mortal triumphs; it comes when we renounce our weapons, our expectations, our greed and surrender before our own true self.” Few of the memories of his prime days flashed through his mind. Memories that were both delightful and agonizing at the same time. Relocking them inside the deep parts of his mind, the emperor rolled his eyes again towards his prime minister. “Innocence is pure and untouched. But it’s not completely at peace. Because it can be deluded as long as it longs for something… something mortal. And the delusion is not necessarily created by someone else; a yearning mind can delude itself against the righteousness, and hence against the decisions that are influenced by the righteousness.”

The prime minister listened to the emperor’s words carefully. Perhaps they were the words that had been cherishing this great empire. The words that emerged from a quelled heart - a deep ocean which had been touched by remorse and churned by purity.

“The only question here is their motive and what has triggered it,” the emperor continued. “If the revolts are empowered by the southern kings, which I don’t think they are, I hope we can resolve them verbally. And if the revolts are led by the wavering minds our own people, then perhaps we’ll have to strive in order to spread cognizance about the true nature of these laws. No society can prosper if it aims at making things easier. Instead, it should aim at making people stronger.”

The emperor turned around and pointed at the giant wheel carved on the wall. Radhagupta gazed at that spectacular wheel. The wheel of Dharma. The wheel that constituted this enormous empire of Magadh.

“That wheel, the wheel of Dharma, bears twenty-four spokes in total,” the emperor further spoke. “Twelve of them represent the laws of dependent origination. And the other twelve represent the laws of dependent termination. Love, Courage, Patience, Peace, Magnanimity, Goodness, Faith, Gentleness, Selflessness, Self-control, Self-sacrifice and Truthfulness are the laws of dependent origination. Whereas Righteousness, Justice, Mercy, Gracefulness, Humility, Loyalty, Sympathy, Spiritual Knowledge, Forgiveness, Honesty, Eternity and Hope are the laws of dependent termination. A virtuous man constitutes these qualities. And an empire thrives eternally if it is built on these qualities. If we are to become the source of prosperity, the abode of Dharma, then these are the qualities this empire will follow...” The emperor rolled his eyes towards Radhagupta. “At least in my reign.”

- An excerpt from my own work.

Ultimate Destiny (Departure of Siddhartha)

As the cold breezes of wind invaded through the walls of his mind, Siddhartha paced towards the direction of Ganga. The horse, despite Siddhartha’s best endeavours, was reluctant to speed. Perhaps his master’s acts had saddened him as well. The vast skyline of Kapilvastu faded behind as the magnificent gleaming starry sky revealed itself to hiseyes. The silence of midnight was starting to bewitch Siddhartha’s mind with its exquisite melody. However abandonment has its own impacts. Soon the bewitching beauty of night created an illusion to lure Siddhartha back to his former self. Glittering particles formed into lovely faces of Yashodhara and Rahul as they gazed into Siddhartha’s eyes. They seemed full of questions to which he had no answers yet. But the path he had chosen tonight was a pursuit to seek the answers to his questions. And perhaps when this pursuit should come to a conclusion, he might be able to answer those questions as well. However the sadness in their eyes were devastating.

“Grief is certainly not their destiny,” Siddhartha spoke to himself. “But then what is destiny? And what is grief? Parting is inevitable. Then why grieve for what is to come for sure?”

As his mind conquered the mist of grief; those faces, the illusion vanished in the gleam of night. However the conquest on grief is not the ultimate conquest. What about love and compassion? The glittering particles, triggered by the clouds obscuring his mind, formed into a face of King Shuddhodana, his father. His face seemed quite pale, probably longing for his love for his son. His eyes asked Siddhartha about the future of his kingdom, about the legacy he was destined to carry, about his duty of a son. Siddhartha was aware that he was loved immensely by his father and that his departure would crucify him. He was the heir to the throne. An only hope for the people. Why should a son forsake his duty to his father, and an heir-apparent to his kingdom?

“I forsook my duties,” Siddhartha muttered, “in order to seek the greater kingdom. This mortal kingdom would have certainly brought me prosperity and glory. But my mind would not be satisfied with that. It aspires the ultimate kingdom of knowledge. Perhaps one day, I shall fulfil my duty by sharing the fruits of my pursuit.”

The illusion vanished once again, as Siddhartha’s mind triumphed over his nobility. He recognized the path he was proceeding to be the way to Vaishali. The fierce flow of Ganga accompanying the melody of cold starry night was probably the greatest unison Siddhartha had listened to. Soon the night was deep and closer to sunrise and Siddhartha stopped near the bank of Ganga where the water was quiet and slow. He caressed his fingers through the hair of his horse and gazed up at the murky sky bloomed with the twinkle of infinite stars. The most beautiful glimpse of the universe reflected in his eyes as if it resided within them. Siddhartha dismounted his horse while his white shiny cloak fluttered in the wind. He stood near the horse while its glimmering eyes pleaded him against his will of abandonment. Gautama brushed his fingers compassionately upon its flawless face.

“It has been my fortune that you have accompanied me in my long journey, my friend,” he said softly. “And I owe you a great amount of regards for that matter. However your destiny resides in Kapilvastu. The remaining fate of my journey must be accomplished only by me. I have renounced everything I had, including you. Therefore you must return to the city for you belong there. Do not follow me on the path I have chosen. Do you understand?”

The horse did not respond. However its eyes reflected his inconvenience. Siddhartha embraced his companion warmly for one last time. But his friend was not ready to abandon him. Siddhartha turned around to proceed on foot. However the horse followed him quietly, determined not to let him go. Upon seeing its reflecting floating upon the surface of water, Gautama stopped and turned towards his friend. He went closer and said, “Do not make this difficult for both of us. You are no longer bound by your duty to accompany me. However, should you still desire to follow me, take this as my last command! And I believe you shall obey it heartfully. Return to the city and serve to thy king and acquire glory for that thou deserve.”

The horse quietly nodded, still devastated in the grief of parting. Gautama turned around and proceeded on his path. The horse gazed at his reflection floating upon the surface of water. It was illuminated by a divine wheel. A spirit of ultimate enlightenment illuminating upon the mild waves of water. Perhaps, a glimpse of his destiny… A glimpse of his ultimate conquest.

Naraka Chaturdashi

Kali Chaudash or more commonly known as ‘Naraka Chaturdashi’ celebrates the victory of good over evil. The very legend of this occasion resides in the greatest poem ‘The Mahabharata’. Narakasura, the Asura king, who was blessed for a long reign upon his mother’s noble deeds, had invaded the heaven and stolen Aditi’s divine earrings from Indra’s abode. He had also captured 16000 virgin maidens andstarted ruling his city. Being Asura, he was infamous for his cruelty and inhumane acts. However, gods were compelled by the boon of his long reign. After many years, one day Bhoomadevi visits Dwarka and meets Queen Satyabhama. She tells her about the atrocities committed by Narakasura. Enraged by hearing about the dreadful chaos spread by Narakasura, Satyabhama seeks help of her husband Krishna who agrees to vanquish Narakasura. On this very day of Chaturdashi, Krishna along with his consort Satyabhama rides upon his divine mount Garuda to the city of Naraksura and slays thousands of demons along with the great demon named Mura with various celestial weapons and arrows. The furious battle between Krishna and demons terrifies even the gods by its fierceness. However Krishna succeeds in slaying them all in pieces. Eventually he confronted Narakasura in the battle. Narakasura was actually one among the few most capable warriors on earth and he possessed the most terrific celestial weapons. Yet even after using weapons like Agneyastra, Brahmastra, Vaishnavastra, Narayanastra, he could not defeat Krishna as Krishna also possessed powers to neutralize those weapons. At last disappointed by his endeavours, Narakasura invoked the holy trident to kill Krishna, but Krishna struck him with his divine wheel (Sudarshana Chakra) and slew him in half. After vanquishing his enemy, Krishna freed all those 16000 maidens. However those maidens asked that due to their uncertain shadowy past spent here in captivity, no one would want to marry them and therefore they requested the lord to accept them as his brides. Krishna gracefully accepted them and married them individually all at once with acquaintance of Yoga Maya. It is said that Krishna travelled back to Dwarka after the triumph and celebrated the festival of Deepawali (which is linked to Ram’s return to Ayodhya). Therefore, Naraka Chaturdashi is celebrated as the victory over darkness. Now according to Kalika Purana, Adishakti divides herself into ten eternal forms of energies and assists Narayana in all his incarnations. In Krishna Avatara, Adishakti assisted Krishna in the form of Kali as his power. Hence it is said that Kali also accompanied Krishna and Satyabhama into this battle. And that gave birth to the ritual of Kali Puja upon this auspicious occasion of victory.

Just a man

Just a man

Dreams… For some it is the most delightful word. But for others, it is the most painful word. The delightful side of that word can certainly lead you towards a happy life. However the other side of it... well, it may throw you into eternal despair from which you might not be able to rise ever again.

Being a published writer had always been Roy’s dream since he was in the tenth grade. He had dreamt of his stories travelling across the world. He had dreamt of his stories inspiring various aspiring people across the world. But the time had changed, and so had he. Those bright dreams were now locked in the dark room and the light was ambushed by the horrible darkness. Sometimes he could feel those dreams screaming for help, a single chance to shine again. Perhaps this time, they would shine in limits. However Roy highly doubted if he could let them out of their cage even for once.

That dream of being a published writer had brought him in the world of literature which apparently was different than he had imagined. Here the word literature meant to earn the money regardless the content. Fortunately Roy had learnt that in a short period since he'd arrived. He had assumed that being a content writer would someday provide him a platform to live up to his dreams and to shine again. But one thing he didn’t know was that this world had no space for light. Your shine would always be overshadowed by the various elements of life as well as the world.

Even after five years of being a content writer, he hadn’t written more than five chapters of his dream. He had barely written fifty pages. And even they were lost in the darkness of despair. At that day Roy realized that he wouldn’t be able to survive if his life continued to be such complicated. He had to make it simpler. And Roy knew that there was only one way he could do that. He simply had to make a choice. A choice that could either give him his happiness or it could make him just a man.

He could see two different ways leading towards two different destinations. He could see the barriers on both the paths. But he could discriminate their impact on his life. And then there was a moment to choose the path of his career. One of them would lead him towards a happy career and the other towards a comfortable one. While his heart was leaning towards the happy one, his mind was protesting with logical explanations that Roy knew were legitimate. As his heart leaned towards the happy career, his mind reminded him of the responsibilities he had been carrying along. It reminded him of his old parents, his wife and his children. It reminded him of the smiles on their faces and their comforts which were expected from him. And even if he succeeded to live up to his dreams, there was a fair chance that his works would never make it to the world. Apparently the happy path would compel him to sacrifice their delight in order to achieve his dreams. What kind of a selfish man would do that?

And when his mind leaned towards the comfortable path, his heart reminded him how delightfully he had seen those dreams and how passionately he had chased them… until now. Choosing the path of comfort would clearly be the end of his dreams. And what is the meaning of life without having an opportunity to chase your dreams? Life is supposed to be a personification of freedom, isn’t it? Is it worth to sacrifice all of these for their happiness? Perhaps it was, and perhaps it wasn’t. But the choice was inevitable. It had to be made. And Roy was not that selfish person who would choose his self over the people he loved and cared about. He was not that selfish to lock their future in the darkness so that his dreams could shine and breathe the fresh air. The choice was simple and so would be his life. He made the choice. He chose the happiness of his family over his own. He chose what any man would choose any day. He chose to be just a man.  

Emperor Bharata

“O monarch! Thy mighty son born of Shakuntala, shall grow to conquer the earth and his vigorous glory shall echo through the eternity of time. And because this child is to be cherished by thee, therefore shall this thy son be known by the name of Bharata (the cherished one).”

- The Mahabharata (Sambhav Parva)


Emperor Bharata, the mighty son of Dushyant (Dushmanta) and Shakuntala, was a prestigious monarch of Lunar Dynasty, whose legacy is the entire Indian Subcontinent. In his glory, this country is called Bharat (The land of Bharata) and the subcontinent is called Bharatvarsha.

The story of his birth is mentioned in the first Parva of the Mahabharata and in one of the greatest poems by Kalidas, Abhigyan Shankuntalam. The clan of Emperor Bharata inherited his name and became famous as Bharat Race. The Bharat Dynasty was dignified by many glorious monarchs such as Bhumanyu, Hastin, Shantanu, Yudhishthira, Parikshit, Janmenjaya and many more prestigious rulers. He was also a great ancestor to both Pandavas and Kauravas. All the great Kuru Warriors in epic Mahabharata were born in his dynasty. And thus the greatest poem of all time earns its name as the Mahabharata (The legend of Bharata Race).

Bharata was born to Shakuntala in the forest in the Ashram of Kanwa. He grew playing with lions, bears, tigers and other wild animals. Since he was finicky by nature, he was originally named as Sarvadaman (the one who subdues all). After the events of Hastinapur followed by the curse of Durvasa when Dushyant realizes about his son and his wife, he makes Shakuntala her queen and installs Bharata as his heir-apparent.

Emperor Bharata grew to be a Chakravartin Samrat who conquered the entire subcontinent and unified all the kingdoms into one invincible empire. He married to Princess Sunanda of Kashi and begot a son named Bhumanyu, who succeeded him on the throne after his demise.

For we have inherited the glorious name of Bharat, we all are his descendants. Till there remains the shape of Bharat (India) on the face of earth, his glory shall thrive in the heart of this nation.

Harihara

शिवाय विष्णु रूपाय शिव रूपाय विष्णवे |

शिवस्य हृदयं विष्णुं विष्णोश्च हृदयं शिवः ||

यथा शिवमयो विष्णुरेवं विष्णुमयः शिवः |
यथान्तरम न पश्यामि तथा में स्वस्तिरायुषि|
यथान्तरम न भेदा: स्यु: शिवराघवयोस्तथा||
(यजुर्वेद)
Vishnu is Shiva and Shiva is Vishnu. Vishnu resides in Shiva’s heart and Shiva resides in Vishnu’s. Hence, Vishnu can be found in the same place as Shiva and Shiva can be found in the same place as Vishnu. A person who sees them as one and inseparable, is the one to live a gracious life.

यथा शिवस्तथा विष्णुर्यथा विष्णुस्तथा शिव: ।
अन्तरं शिवविष्ण्वोश्र भनागपि न विद्यते ।।
(स्कन्द पुराण)
Where exists Shiva, Vishnu exists with him. And where exists Vishnu, Shiva exists with him. (They both exist in each other and everywhere.) Their eternal existence has no difference.

Harihara, is called the form of supreme god, in which both Adipurushas (birthless eternal beings) exists as one. ‘Hari’ stands for Vishnu and ‘Hara’ stands for Shiva. This particular form is worshipped by all the cults of Hinduism as the supreme form. However, it stands for a deeper meaning. Their eternal existence must be seen as one and infinite. Both Vishnu and Shiva are supreme gods (Swayam Bhagwan). They represent two sides of one coin. Vishnu, the preserver of universe, resides upon the ocean of milk (in which the entire universe cherishes), whereas Shiva, the destroyer of creation, resides on the summit of Divine Kailash (the cosmic mountain situated in the centre of the universe). Where Shiva, despite being an ascetic, has compassion for his family, Vishnu, despite being married, represents an ascetic mind. Shiva, who is married to Adishakti (the very energy of universe), represents how a man can still be egoless and powerful. Vishnu, who is married to Lakshmi (the prosperity of universe), represents how a man can still be generous and without greed in spite of having enormous wealth. Shiva, the destroyer, has a cherishing family. Whereas Vishnu, the preserver, has the universe as his family. Shiva, the founder of Yoga, meditates on Rama’s (Incarnation of Vishnu) blissful name. And Vishnu meditates on the calmness of Shiva. As the Yujarveda says, they both resides in each other’s heart. Vishnu is the only one to calm Shiva’s temper and endure his pain and Shiva is the one to know the endurance and purposes of Vishnu’s incarnations. They live human lives through each other’s heart, establishing the standards of an ideal life. They worship each other in their incarnations. E.g., Hanuman (Incarnation of Shiva) worships Rama (Incarnation of Vishnu) and Rama worships Shiva. They both are each other’s supreme gods and each other’s greatest devotees.
There cannot be any difference between them. The universe is a part of their eternal existence and they both together sustain balance of nature. Their singular existence results into manifestation, preservation and destruction.

The legend of Ganesha

Ganesha, more commonly known as Ganpati or Vinayak, is a second son of Lord Shiva, and an incarnation of Adishakti, Parvati. He is worshipped as the god of new beginnings and remover of obstacles. He is also a sibling to Kartikeya (also known as Skanda or Murugan) and Ashoka Sundari (the daughter born from the grace of Kalpavriksha). As the legend goes, Vinayak was created by Goddess Parvati while Shiva was away for his routine penance. She made a beautiful idol of a boy from special clay, who would be both virtuous and courageous. Being an incarnation of Adishakti, she gave life to the idol by the energy she possessed. Seeing the beautiful boy and his innocent nature, she embraced him as her child. From his birth, Vinayak was a skilful warrior and an obedient son to his mother. And he guarded Kailash while Shiva was away. All other goddesses blessed him with eternal beauty and virtue upon seeing his enchanting form.

One day while his mother was taking a bath and while he was guarding the entrance of Kailash, Shiva returned home after completing his months-long penance. Unaware of each other’s identity, Vinayak stopped Shiva from entering Kailash. He told the latter that he can’t enter unless his mother permits. Upon hearing this and thus stopped by an arrogant child from entering his own abode, Shiva became furious. Their verbal quarrel soon erupted as a combat fight. Vinayak fought bravely with his elephant goad and axe while Shiva, being the master of warfare, seemed invincible. Now the legends vary on Lord Shani’s involvement here. One legend describes that it was due to Shani’s Vakradirshti on Vinayak that put him in fight with Shiva. And another legend says that Shani, upon seeing an outrageous battle between Ganesha and Shiva, intervened to stop them. It is said that the weapon that Shani touches, is destined to end its enemy. Striving to stop Shiva, he accidently touched his Trishula, which resulted into Shiva beheading his own son Vinayak. As Parvati heard the cry of Vinayak upon his beheading, she rushed out where she saw Vinayak’s body lay headless and furious Shiva standing beside him. Devastated by her son’s loss, she told her lord about Vinayak which filled Shiva’s heart with sorrow and empathy. However in her devastation, Parvati furiously cursed Shani, making him blind of his sight (Vakradrishti). When Parvati pleaded her lord to revive their son, Shiva commanded his Ganas to bring the first creature they see nearby. The Ganas were not that witty. So they thought that their lord meant any creature by his mention of creature. And they brought an elephant head.

This act, however, shocked all of the gods, especially, Parvati. She wouldn’t dream of her beloved son with that gigantic elephant head. But the act was inevitable. As Shiva told her that they cannot take another creature’s life for it. Eventually, she agreed and Shiva placed the head upon Vinayak’s body and revived him. Thus, Vinayak opened his big eyes with this new elephant head. He asked Shiva’s forgiveness for not recognizing him while Shiva apologized for the same. And they embraced each other. Upon this incredible incident, the gods bestowed Vinayak with various blessings and boons. However, the concerned Surya (Shani’s father) told Parvati that without Shani’s Sight, the balance of universe would quake since he is the god of justice. Parvati realized her mistake and gave back Shani’s sight as well.

Later Vinayak was made the leader of Ganas at Kailash to which he was named as Ganesha and Ganpati. Ganesha is often depicted with Goddess Saraswati and Goddess Lakshmi who are goddess of knowledge and goddess of prosperity respectively. Ganesha completes the trio as the god of virtue and auspiciousness. Ganesha has two consorts: Riddhi (prosperity)/Buddhi (wisdom) and Siddhi (spiritual power). He has two sons: Kshema/Shubh (God of auspiciousness) and Labh (God of achievements). In newer legends, Goddess Santoshi Mata is a daughter of Ganesha and sister to Kshema and Labh. Ganehsa is often shown with two weapons: An axe and a goad.

Apart from traditional view, the festival of Ganesha Chaturthi was revolutionised by the well-known freedom fighter Bal Gangadhar Tilak (Lokmanya Tilak) in order to encourage people to join the fight of freedom. Thus the tradition of Ganesha Pandals still thrives in many parts of India. People welcome beautiful idols of Ganesha on Ganesha Chaturthi and submerge them ten days later on Anant Chaturdashi.

The legend of Ganga

Ganga, also known as Jaahnavi, Vishnupadi, Bhagwatpadi and Bhagirathi along with various other names, is one of the most sacred rivers in Hinduism. The legend of Ganga’s birth exists in her names. Vishnupadi and Bhagwatpadi, she has been carrying these both names since her birth. When Lord Narayana (Vishnu) in his Vamana Avatar asks the demon king Bali for three feet of land and when he extends his left foot covering the entire universe, he makes a hole in the universe with his toe. From that hole, the divine and pure water of Brahma-Universe emerges. Washing the feet of Narayana, Ganga flows in the universe. Hence, being touched by the red lotus feet of Narayana, the holy water of Ganga becomes reddish pink. Thus she receives her name of Vishnupadi and Bhagwatpadi, for flowing from the lotus feet of the supreme god himself. Then according to the will of Narayana, Ganga descends to Brahma Loka as the divine river of gods. She resides there along with other gods and is entitled as the goddess. And so she is the river of heaven.

Then many years later, Bhagirath pleases Lord Brahma with his vigorous penance and requests him to let Ganga descend on earth so that he could liberate the souls of sixty thousand sons of his ancestor King Sagar who were destroyed by Sage Kapil on their mischief. Brahma agrees to let Ganga descend on earth. However, he reckons a barrier in her descent. Ganga is the river of universe and therefore her flow is vigorously fierce. Has she descended on earth in her full glory, her furious flow would destroy the earth. On Brahma’s advice, Bhagirath strives to please Lord Shiva to hold the mighty flow of Ganga while she descends on earth. Lord Shiva, pleased by Bhagirath’s request, agrees to this. 

Ganga, upon seeking Narayana’s permission and Brahma’s blessings, descends on earth in her full glory, while Shiva holds her flow in his long hair-locks. For Shiva is her bearer on her descend, she is also believed to be his consort. Then Ganga travels behind Bhagirath, creating her own path on earth and meets to Sagara in the end. Thus, she receives the name of Bhagirathi. Ganga is also the only river to flow in all three worlds: Swarga, Bhoomi and Patala. For Ganga descends in the heart of Himalayas and starts her journey from there, she is also a daughter to the mountain king, Himalaya (King Himavan) and sister to Himalaya’s daughter Parvati along with hundred sons of Himalaya.

Ganga was a consort to King Shantanu of Bharat Race, as described in the epic Mahabharata. King Shantanu is said to be an incarnation of ocean himself. Hence, fulfilling her destined nature and a previous curse, she wedded him through Gandharva Vivaha. She had eight sons with Shantanu. However, seven of them had to die due to the curse of their previous birth and only one of them lived for the same curse. Bhishma. Bhishma, named on his birth as Devavrata, is known as the mighty son of Ganga, who lived in the last centuries of Dwapar Yuga. Being born in Satyayuga, cherished in Treta and Dwapar Yuga, Ganga still flourishes in Kali Yuga.

Ganga (Or as they call her, River Ganges) still has unique importance in India both religiously and spiritually. And her glory still thrives in people’s heart. Her source is called Gomukh, near Gangotri. She flows from those glaciers and meets the ocean at Bay of Bengal. She is also a lifeline to most of the North-Indian population and fame of the many cities like Haridwar, Rishikesh, Patna, Allahabad, Varanasi, Kanpur, Kolkata and many more. 

Draupadi’s Swayamvar

“Arjun,” Yudhishthira called.

Arjun stepped forward and turned to his elder brother. “Brother!” he bowed his head.

“Perhaps the time has come when you fulfilled your duty as Kshatriya,” Yudhishthira said. “Almost every prince and king in this assembly who are here to wed Princess Draupadi has failed. And others are guests here. If this Swayamvar fails to reach its goal, it may defame King Drupad. And as long as one Kshatriya remains on this earth who could lift that bow and shoot an eye of that fish, this Swayamvar must not fail.”

“Shall I go then?” Arjun asked politely.

“Yes,” Yudhishthira nodded. “Go. Do your duty.”

Arjun bowed down respectfully to his brother.

“May you triumph,” Yudhishthira blessed with a smile. “If it is God’s will, then Princess Draupadi shall be your wife.”

Arjun turned to Bheema and bowed his head.

“Show them who you are, my dear brother,” Bheema smiled.

Arjun glanced at Nakul and Sahadev while they both nodded with a smile. They all were in disguise. They were all dressed like ascetics. Yet their warrior-physique made them different from other ascetics standing there in audience. Arjun inhaled deeply and glanced far at the wheel of fish continuously whining with rapid speed.

Arjun stepped down and walked down the red carpet. Hundreds of kings and prices sat there on their rich chairs on both the sides of the path. Arjun could see the banners behind those chairs. Banners of Chhedi, Shalva, Kuntibhoja, Avanti, Kashi, Mahishmati, Maadra, Gandhar, Avadh, Kannuaj, Magadh, Hastinapur, Ang, Mathura, Dwarka, Matsya and hundreds more were visible. They all stared at him in surprise as he walked down the carpet. Arjun also glanced over them. But then he saw Prince Duryodhana looking at him suspiciously. The giant elephant head gloriously glared behind his chair. Princes of Gandhar, brothers of Uncle Shakuni, giggled looking at Arjun. They were joking on him. As he walked by the Chhedi Price, he heard Prince Shishupal saying ‘What is he going to do?’ and then he laughed. Arjun smirked and ignored all of them.

As he reached beneath the wheel of fish, he stopped. He spotted the magnificent bow laying amidst the flowers. Its strength could be seen from its glorious shape and size. It must be incredibly heavy. There were three arrows placed beside the bow. Before Arjun could proceed, King Drupad spoke, “You’re welcome to try. But I don’t think you would be able to even lift it. All of these great princes and kings have failed. You’re mere an ascetic. But I won’t stop you. Go ahead! Show us your courage.”

Arjun smirked quietly, looking at King Drupad. Meanwhile, King Drupad glanced toward his daughter who was sitting in the balcony. She had a clear view from there. She was watching Arjun since he had walked out from the crowd. Arjun also glanced at her. Such a beauty! He thought. A woman looks prettiest on her wedding day. In rich red clothes and ornaments all upon her body, she looked mesmerizingly pretty. And Arjun was in dusty clothes of an ascetic. For years, he hadn’t worn rich clothes. His handsome face was covered with long beard. With matted locks in his hair, dusky tone and in muscular warrior-like body, he looked as if Shiva himself had appeared in the Swayamvar. But that beauty was not enough to distract him from his task. No beauty was enough to distract him. He could resist the utmost temptation.

However, someone else caught his eye as he was rolling his eyes back toward the bow and arrow. A man with dark bluish skin was staring at him with a mysterious smile on his face. He wore a rich shiny red cape, contrary to his skin-tone. His clothes were vibrant-coloured. And more noticeably, he wore a beautiful peacock feather on his magnificent crown. Arjun looked at him for a brief moment and he felt his mind calming down. Everything he was wondering faded away. The man grinned at Arjun.

Arjun quickly recovered his senses. Meanwhile, the man leaned aside toward another man with a much gigantic and muscular structure. He was tall, fair and handsome as well. He wore blue rich clothes. And he had even more magnificent crown on his head, except for the peacock feather. Arjun noticed a banner with giant peacock feather behind their chairs.

“That’s Jishnu,” the man with bluish skin told the other man, pointing toward Arjun. Arjun could hear their voices since the entire crowd had fallen quiet from the moment he walked out of the crowd.

“Aunt Pritha’s youngest son?” the other man frowned and glanced at Arjun.

“Yes, youngest son of Aunt Pritha, Parth,” the man with bluish skin smiled, turning his face again toward Arjun.

Arjun was shocked hearing his own name on their lips. How did he recognize me? He wondered. It was too hard for anyone to recognize Arjun in this attire, especially for someone who had never seen him before. Arjun had figured out who they were when he saw that giant peacock feather behind their chairs. It was the symbol of Yadava Capital, Dwarka. Sons of his mother’s biological brother, had established that city. He assumed them to be Krishna and Balram, his cousins. Meanwhile, they both looked at him happily.

Focusing on his task, Arjun proceeded toward the bow. He gazed up and saw the fish wheeling around rapidly for a moment. Then he crouched forth and touched the bow. It was his habit that before lifting up any bow he used to bow his head before it. It was his self-accepted ritual that he always followed. He did the same with this bow. Then he put his fingers on the bow softly and grasped it tightly. He inhaled deeply closing his eyes in order to pray to Lord Shiva to grant him courage.

“Har har mahadev”, he murmured beneath his breath, clutching his fingers around the bow and lifted it with a yank.

He could hear people gasping out of shock. He had hoped for the bow to be heavier. However, it didn’t seem that much heavy now. He opened his eyes to see a wave of shock taking over people’s faces. Everyone were staring at him with their eyes wide open. He saw Prince Duryodhana, Uncle Shakuni and Karna staring at him in surprise. That terrified look on their faces made him almost laugh. Controlling his laughter, Arjun rolled his eyes to King Drupad who had said earlier that he wouldn’t be able to even lift it. King Drupad had almost stood up from his throne with his eyes wide open and his mouth gasping. Breathing satisfaction in his lungs, Arjun glanced at Princess Draupadi, who seemed rather happy after watching him lifting the bow. Perhaps she had hoped for her future husband to be courageous and strong. She blushed as she caught Arjun looking at her. Arjun rolled his eyes toward Krishna and Balram who were also smiling happily. Arjun had heard about his cousins’ acts quite well. He knew exactly what they were capable of. Perhaps they hoped for their cousin to be just like them. Hence, it was no surprise for them.

Arjun proceeded to his task and picked up an arrow. He stepped toward the pot filled with water. Water in the pot wasn’t still. He could see the reflection trembling on the surface. However, Arjun had accomplished much tougher tasks in the past. He narrowed his gaze and focused on the eye of that fish. In a brief moment, he learned about the motion of the fish. He placed the arrow on the bow and raised them high above his head, while his eyes were constantly looking at the eye of a fish. It was like he had linked his eye with the fish’s eye. Arjun pulled the string of his bow tightly and waited for a right moment to leave the arrow. Soon he could only see the eye of a fish and everything else seemed blur. He didn’t hear any voice, nor did he feel the wind touching his skin. He didn’t even hear the breeze of an air. Such was his concentration. And all of a sudden, he loosened his fingers and the arrow flew swiftly upwards and pierced the eye of that fish.

~ From ‘Draupadi’s Swayamvar’ by Bhargav Patel [Based on The Mahabharata]

Redemption

Seeing King Shuddhodana lying in his deathbed, Buddha approached in. It was the king’s last wish to see Buddha in order to redeem himself in death. Or perhaps, it was just his love for his son that he wanted to see his beloved Siddhartha before he died. Whatever it was, Buddha accepted the king’s invitation. It had been many years since he had visited Kapilvastu. The last time he was here, young Rahul had asked his inheritance. But Buddha persuaded him into asceticism. Buddha knew that the king didn’t like his heir being drawn toward ascetic life. However, the king was dying now. Nothing that he liked or disliked mattered anymore. And his last wish… Well, Buddha had to accept it for the king he was.

Anand and his fellows stayed in the garden outside the palace, where Buddha was staying. Meanwhile, Buddha went to meet the king. He was informed that the king hadn’t stepped out of his chamber for many days. He was too weak to speak and sometimes he even didn’t recognize people. He hallucinated things and people: his beloved wife Maya, his grandchild and even his son too. However Buddha was certain that the king would recognize him. How wouldn’t he? The king had mourned over his son’s departure for most of his life. He could forget everything in the world for a moment, but he could never forget his beloved son. Although, Siddhartha was long gone. 

As Buddha stepped into the king’s chamber, the guards left after bowing, leaving them alone. Buddha glanced over the chamber. It was still the same as it was years ago. Not a single thing had been changed. Buddha’s presence brought a strange energy into the chamber that weak king also tilted his head to see Buddha standing near the door.

“Gautama,” the king gasped. His voice was too weak and shaky.

Buddha glanced at the king. Surprisingly, he seemed weaker than Buddha last remembered him. The king’s wrinkled eyes requested Buddha to come forth and have a seat near the bed. The king’s body was so weak that even bones were visible. It seemed as if he had not eaten in several days. Buddha looked at the king’s white beard. He had really grown old. And why wouldn’t he? It had been a lifetime ago when Buddha played with the king as a child.

Buddha walked toward the bed and stood closer to it, from where the king could see him properly. Buddha looked into the king’s eyes while the king also stared into his.

“Gautama, you have come?” the king gasped again.

“As you have requested, your majesty,” Buddha said softly.

A light smile crossed the king’s dry lips as he heard Buddha saying him ‘your majesty’. Usually, people addressed Buddha with the word ‘my lord’. Even the great emperors bowed down to his feet. Such a great fortune! The king had wished for his son that the great monarchs would bow down to his feet, when he was born. However, he hadn’t expected him to be an ascetic. He could have become the greatest emperor of this land. But he became something greater.

“Then you must know why I have invited you here,” the king said.

“I can assume, perhaps,” Buddha said.

The king looked into his eyes for a brief moment. Then he suddenly spoke, “No. It’s not what you’re thinking. I haven’t invited you here because--” he paused. “I’ve invited you to provide me a way to redeem myself.”

Buddha nodded quietly.

“I’m approaching toward my death, Gautama. Any moment could be my last. And I desire of Nirvana. I know if there is anyone who could guide me towards liberation, it’s only you. I cannot be guided by your disciples since my mind has been covered with severe smoke of distraction. Only you can blow the smoke away and enlighten me to the truth.”

Buddha smiled faintly at the king. “I cannot enlighten you unless you help yourself. I’m not a sorcerer, your majesty. Nor am I the god. A man can only be enlightened if he wishes to be, if he is ready to be. I’m a mere medium,” he said.

“Then be my medium, Gautama. Because… I’m ready to embrace your path,” the king requested.

“It is not wrong to love your child,” Buddha said softly. “After all, a child is the most precious thing a person can have.” Meanwhile, the king looked at him in bewilderment. He hadn’t hoped that Buddha would talk about them. “However, the attachment is quite harmful. Human life is like a season of nature. As the leaves fall in autumn, we all meet to our death someday. But as the spring arrives, nature starts to bloom again. Likewise, we are reborn with a new body and with a new adventurous life. But the nature never mourns on what is lost. And we should adapt that quality of nature and stop mourning for what is gone. That is the only way that we can allow a spring to bloom in our souls again. It is the only way we can be at peace.”

“I have stopped mourning,” the king muttered. “I’ve stopped mourning long ago.”

“Have you?” Buddha frowned. “King Dasrath died due to his love for his son. And I cannot see any other reason for a mighty king to approach toward death before his time. You’re still mourning, your majesty.”

The king looked into Buddha’s eyes. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps he had never stopped mourning on his son and his family. Because everyone he loved, abandoned him throughout his life. He was left alone with this enormous kingdom. Moreover, he hadn’t left with an heir. His eyes glittered as he faced his true self into Buddha’s eyes.

“But I can stop it, can’t I?” he gasped.

“You can,” Buddha nodded. “But you won’t.”

“But why?”

“Because perhaps it is too late for you to leave me. You have been consumed by grief.”

“Then show me a way out of this grief. I don’t want to die without my mind at peace,” the king begged.

Buddha remained quiet for a moment. “You have unachieved dreams, haven’t you?” Buddha asked.

“Perhaps, I have,” King Shuddhodana nodded weakly.

“For your mind to be at peace, you need to live those dreams,” Buddha suggested.

“I cannot,” the king shook his head. “Those dreams were perished long ago.”

“Perhaps I can help,” Buddha said.

The king looked into his twinkling eyes for a brief moment.

“I always wanted a happy family with my wife and my children,” the king confessed. “A part of that dream died along with Maya. I couldn’t dream that sight after her demise.” He remained quiet for a moment, staring blankly at Buddha. “And I wanted my son.”

“Mother cherishes happily,” Buddha informed in a formal voice.

“Maya?” the king gasped. “She--”

“Yes, she is happy with whatever she had.”

“But how do you know?”

“After my enlightenment, I could travel across the worlds. Even the heavens. I visited her for three months in order to learn how she was,” Buddha replied.

“She loved you even when you were in her womb,” the king said gladly.

“I’m aware of that,” Buddha smiled. “And as your last wish, I’ll take you to her for that it might bring you peace.”

“Will you?” the king frowned in surprise.

“Yes, father,” Buddha murmured.

As the king heard the word ‘father’ from his mouth, he felt his heart lightening from the emotional grief that he had been carrying for all these years. He felt his chaotic mind achieving peace slowly. It was like the sound of silence had possessed him. Perhaps that was the only thing he wanted to hear his entire life. And now, he had heard it finally. He didn’t care even if the death consumed him right away.

Buddha grabbed the king’s hand gently and caressed his fingers upon his palm. The king stared at him astonishingly, while Buddha wore a beautiful smile on his face. In a few moments, the king felt his mind staring in a singularity. A single point of existence. He didn’t feel his body. He didn’t feel his senses. He didn’t feel anything. The next vision was a beautiful full-moon night where he saw Buddha sat in meditation while two lotus floated beautifully amidst the air facing toward Buddha. The full moon shone behind him gloriously. And suddenly his vision swirled around Buddha’s forehead, upon the Ajna Chakra and his whole vision went blurry and vivid as white.

As the king opened his eyes, he found himself in a dreamy place. The place had glorious tall palaces and magnificent buildings that were impossible to build on earth. They were so enormously and magnificently built. The floor was entirely covered with clouds and a white smoke. And the palaces were hazy. It felt as if the king was standing in the heaven. All the surroundings seemed bright and milky white. Everything was more vivid here than it could be on earth. Surprisingly, he saw a beautiful young lady sitting on a lonely bench amid the clouds and smoke. She was facing her back at him. Her glimmering white clothes were cherishing her beauty so greatly that for a moment even a nymph would look less pretty before her. The king could recognize her. She was the woman whom he had been married for years, who gave birth to his beloved son, Siddhartha.

“Maya!” the king called as he approached her.

Queen Maya turned around to see the king rushing toward her. She stood up as she recognized the king. Her beautiful lips emerged in a broad smile seeing her husband before her eyes. She quickly bowed to him as he stopped before her. The king held her by shoulders and embraced her tightly.

“Maya,” the king whispered in her ear. “Finally, I meet you.” He closed his eyes in order to enjoy one of the happiest moment of his life to its core.

And then Buddha caressed his fingers through the king’s white hair while the king’s body lay motionless in the bed. He glanced at his happy face. Perhaps it was the most cheerful expression he had had in last many years. Buddha looked at his face for a brief moment and then closed the king’s eyes, while the king rested in peace.  

Kaling Vijay

As the moon rose high in the sky and the beautiful twilight faded away, the emperor heard terrible cries emerging from the battlefield. He heard faint screaming of women and weeping children shaking the delicate heart of the night. Rushing out his tent, he walked toward the battlefield which he had just triumphed. The last battle of the rebellion against him. The last battle to make Magadh the greatest empire in the world. And he had proudly won. He had won the glorious title of the universal emperor that no king had ever won and probably no one would ever win. The furious lion of Maurya Dynasty had roared for the last time and it would echo in all directions. Let the Greeks and Syrians hear who had been fancying to invade this empire that what he had achieved today. Or even they would bow down to his feet. While all the thoughts of his glorious victory were consoling his mind, he constantly heard those disturbing cries and screams. Now even his own body started to burn.

As he gazed in the horizon at the battlefield, the misery of fate struck him like the Vajra of Indra. He saw thousands of pyres burning and thousands of corpses laying on the ground, severely wounded and rotting on the beautiful face of the earth. He saw thousands of widows crying over their dead husbands and even more orphans screaming for their father. He saw the poor mothers begging the great lord to return them their sons. And when the god didn’t listen, they cursed the one who unleashed this dreadful act upon their children. They cursed him for lifetime of misery. They cursed him in the most hideous words that ever existed. They cursed him for the darkest future a man could get. They cursed him for the agony beyond the hell.

The wind of misery blew so quietly as if every particle of the world was mourning for the dead and cursing the emperor for his dreadful acts upon the children of nature. He saw the flag of Magadh hoisting gloriously in the middle of the battlefield, just beside the pile of corpses that lay savagely wounded on the ground. And there he saw his magnificent sword buried in someone’s heart. Its spectacular blade glimmered as the moonlight reflected upon its surface. But the glimmer died where the blood had stained the blade. The emperor stood there, frozen, mortified, cursed. He felt his knees shaking above his feet and his whole body burning with the fire of those countless pyres. He felt his heart sinking into darkness of misery that was unleashed upon him by his own fate. He felt his heart burning in utterly infinite agony, unleashing the curses of all those poor mothers, widows and orphans. And amidst the smoke of misery, his heart flowed the purest tears from his eyes. The tears of grief.

“What have I done?” cried the emperor in agony. “I wanted to create an enormous unconquerable empire. And I… I killed the people whom I wanted to be a part of it. Those people whom I wanted to call mine, I killed them along with a last hope of eternal glory. If this is a triumph, then what is losing? If this is the victory, then what is destruction? These poor mothers are cursing the man who took away the lives of their beloved sons. These widows are crying because of the man who took away the lives of their holder. I unleashed the most dreadful disaster upon these innocent children by snatching away their fathers from their lives. I, who wanted to become father of all, couldn’t even understand the heart of a child. I have become the greatest emperor on the earth, and yet I failed everything that I had. I failed my dynasty. I failed my grandfather. I failed my mother. I failed Devi and my children. I failed Magadh. What have I become? A bloodthirsty monster who wants everyone that don’t bow down to him dead. And today, I’ve become their darkest nightmare. A monster who kills young men to feed his arrogance. Even though I had won the three world, what would I do if I have no one to share it with? O God! What have I done?”

And thus, shaken by the grief of the destruction that was unleashed by him, he cried the purest tears. An arrow of righteousness struck his heart, piercing the armour of fury and rage. As soon as his heart knew the peace, grief of all his mischiefs came rushing toward him, striking his inner self down. The emperor fell upon his knees, struck by the sudden flow of emotions and shattered on the dusty battlefield.

The beautiful night and the glorious moon witnessed the conqueror of the world shattering like plant in storm. They witnessed his grief. They saw him suffering in the agony of all those who had died because of him. That was the process of transformation. That grief indeed wiped off all the rage from his heart and gave it peace. The world had never seen such a conqueror, and nor had it seen him falling apart.

However, the real glory was yet to come; for him to become the emperor of the emperors. The one who would rise beyond the glory of three worlds. The one whose silent roar would echo through the eternity while only one heart would beat in this whole empire. The one who would become beloved of gods, before whom the entire world would bow in respect, not in fear. The one who would rule the millions of hearts with his righteousness and peace. The emperor that was laying amidst the dust, grieving on his deeds, was not really the conqueror of the world. But the one who would rise after the nightfall, would bring a new era to the mankind. His journey would begin now. Dharmashoka would rise while Chandashoka had burnt in grief.

And then, as the new day began, the emperor rose with a new heart in his body, the purest one. And the rising sun witnessed the white light of righteousness spreading across the horizon as the conqueror of three worlds rose upon his feet.

Chandragupta

Chanakya still remembered that freezing wintry night when he had foreseen this moment. He was sitting under a tree, while young Chandragupta was sleeping, laying his head on his mentor’s lap. The wintry night became crueller as the cold breezes of North became frequent. The night was so quiet that Chanakya could even hear the flowing water of Ganga. And he could see the hazy silhouette of Patliputra across the river. Capital of Magadh. Young Chandragupta shivered in his lap, battling against the cold. Chanakya knew how much that young boy had worked today. He deserved a good sleep at least. For what he was going to achieve one day, he would give sleepless nights to his enemies. But at this moment, he needed a quiet and restful sleep. Without thinking for a moment, he took off his own shawl and lay it on Chandragupta to keep him warm enough. Shivabhatta, who was sleeping a little far from them, was watching all these. He had always wondered why his lord, Chanakya, was so careful for this young boy. What does he see in him that made him so close to that boy? Why does he care for him as if he is his own child? He wondered.

Chanakya caressed his fingers through the young boy’s hair and gently raised the latter’s head and himself moved away, letting the boy rest alone. Chanakya quietly stood up to his feet and walked toward the bank of Ganga. Shivabhatta also followed him quietly. Chanakya stood near the bank, gazing across the river and took deep breaths.

“Come here, Shivabhatta!” Chanakya said. “I know you’re awake.”

Shivabhatta joined Chanakya in no time. Even though he didn’t utter a single word, Chanakya could sense the questions emerging in his mind. “What is bugging you?” Chanakya himself asked.

“The boy, my lord,” Shivabhatta said. “What is in him that made you so sure that he is the one? Why do you care for him as if he is your own child?”

Chanakya smiled softly and glanced at Shivabhatta. “The boy you’re talking about, Shivabhatta, is no ordinary boy. I’ve seen many princes during my life at Takshshila. Some of them were able to become the great monarchs. I could see that in their eyes. But this boy… he has a different spark in his eyes. Something that I have never seen in any prince before. Mark my words, Shivabhatta! One day this boy is going to become the greatest emperor the history has ever seen. And there will never be as great monarch as him till the eternity. His roar will echo through the eternity. His glory would spread infinitely. And why am I so sure about it? Because I’ve seen that spark in only one man’s eyes other than this boy. Alexander. And if we’re to protect our motherland, our faith, our culture from foreign invaders, we need a monarch who could make them kneel. And Chandragupta is destined to be the greatest ruler of all time. The establisher of one of the greatest empires on earth. Yes, I see him as my own child. Because he needs someone to lean upon. And if I’m the only one to become his backbone, I’ll give my every breath to this boy.”