Rajat Pillai's Blog - Posts Tagged "samudragupta"

Chapter-1


He had a towering presence and it befitted his status of being the most powerful man in the whole of Aryavrat. True to the meaning of his name, the sea, he was master of the endless seas and the vast expanses of land he controlled. Battle axe held high, the king stood on a rock the size of a war elephant. In front of him, the audience of soldiers were assembled on a large expanse of flat grassland dotted with numerous army tents. The king took off the metal mask from his face, something he wore in every battle along with his body armour. The mask made him look ruthless. Without it, he was an ageing man with sharp features, greying hair, vibrant skin and a benevolent expression. After seven days of battle, the soldiers were exhausted. On any other day, they would have collapsed from fatigue but today the rush of blood came from their victory, and they gathered to hear the victory speech from their beloved king.

Hidden in the sea of men, two amber coloured eyes were transfixed on the king, closely observing him, his every move and gesture. All eyes were filled with admiration but these eyes were contemplating something. Planning something really sinister.
King Samudragupta, or Samrat Samudra as he was lovingly called by his people, started speaking in his rich baritone, ‘Yodha-jan Abhinandanam! Today you will all sleep with the satisfaction of having served your motherland well and so will I. I feel blessed because I hail from this land, a land so rich in culture, spirituality and traditions. It is my wish to be born here again and again in every birth. I know that each one of you feels the same. The native people of Aryavrat and subjects of our kingdom Magadha, have a large, compassionate heart but that should not be taken for granted. Today, we have proved a point to these people of foreign origin. We have made a statement with our actions. They now know that they are welcome to stay in our land, enjoy the prosperity and be treated as one of us. Instead, over the years they have seized our lands, plundered our wealth, killed our people, attacked our women and proclaimed themselves as lords. Every time that has happened, the brave men of our soil have shown such barbarians their rightful place.’

The man with the amber coloured eyes was also dressed in a soldier’s uniform though it did not fit him well. He stared unblinkingly at the king even as he slowly edged forward through the thick crowd. It was difficult to do this without arousing suspicion but this man was a master of his craft. Head held high, Samudra cleared his throat, ‘These savages, I could never comprehend their intention. I fail to understand why these people want to conquer Aryavrat. The Kushanas originate from remote corners of Macedonia. Though their power has been drastically reduced, we still need to be vigilant because their intentions are not good. The Sakas come from the north of the Hindukush, from wild places we have not heard of. What are these people doing here? Why are they relentlessly trying to subjugate us? With each conquest of ours, we will teach them a lesson. The Sakas and Kushanas cannot hope to enslave us. This is our motherland!’ he thundered. The audience cheered with the roar of a sea during a thunderstorm.

The man with the amber coloured eyes had gradually closed in towards the king. With every step, he felt the tension of trying to come up with a decision. Was he trying to get a closer look at the height and build of his target, or would he just execute his mission in a suicidal spur of the moment move? His heart throbbed, his hands trembled. This was a more recent change; he used to have steady hands, he had focus and a calm which he had mastered for his work. Failure had made him the bundle of nerves he was today. Also, this was the first time he was seeing the great king, the protagonist of the heroic tales he had heard as a child from the head monk of his monastery. The great one’s presence in front of him was overwhelming and surprisingly intimidating.

‘If they travel here for trade or as refugees due to natural calamities, we will welcome them with open arms. We have done that throughout history. However, if these savage clans have other intentions – to harm our women and children after stepping into our holy land of Aryavrat with their blood drenched feet – we will chop off their feet with our axes!’ The army cheered louder, the sound rising to a deafening roar. Samudra raised his battle-axe in the air. The man with the amber eyes was now very close to the rock where Samudra stood. His mind told him that if he attempted something now, he had half a chance before the army shred him to pieces. His heart believed that there would be no opportunity like this. Engrossed in his dilemma, he took small steps forward at a time. This was his moment, everyone was ecstatic and security would be lax. All of a sudden……

(Chapter cut short since there were plot spoilers ahead. More information and reviews on Amazon India website)

Yoddha: The Dynasty of Samudragupta

[Chapter introducing 'Vyom the Assassin', the popular antagonist from 'Yoddha: The Dynasty of Samudragupta']

Chapter-4

The old man, Shashank, looked at his visitor. His amber coloured eyes were piercing yet there was a kind of strange warmth in them. Seated on a wooden chair in the porch outside his modest house in Rajgriha, the old man wondered what his visitor wanted. His big brown dog tied to a chain near the boundary wall around his house was barking loudly, occasionally growling, salivating, his teeth bared to the stranger. ‘What did you say your name was?’ he asked again. The visitor replied, ‘Vyom! I belong to your native village in Panchanagri. To be honest, I am pretty overwhelmed in your presence since I have grown up hearing tales of your bravery.’ ‘Do they remember me still?’ Shahshank asked, sounding amused but secretly delighted. ‘They do! In a village of farmers and cattle grazers, you are the only one who took a different path and became a true achiever,’ his visitor replied. As the stranger looked at the dog, it became restless again and started barking loudly. The animal sounded angry yet looked terrified.

‘That’s a nice dog you have here, very fine breed.’

‘Yes! He is my only friend and companion. I wonder why he is so aggressive today.’

‘Maybe he does not like me! It’s like that, animals seem to just hate me. Dogs in particular.’ Shashank smiled and asked, ‘Tell me Vyom, how I can help you?’ Vyom sighed then began to narrate his story with a grim expression, ‘I had made quite a lot of money in my profession of silk trading, and eventually started lending money for interest. Your brother had pledged your ancestral house to me in exchange for a huge sum of money when he was in debt.’ ‘He was just another miserable compulsive drunkard! All he achieved in his life was to waste away hard-earned money from our family dairy business. We had not been on talking terms for the last fifteen years because of his wayward nature. I was rather ashamed of him,’ interrupted Shashank. Vyom continued, ‘After his death, since your brother had no family or children, I took possession of the house. Then my wife and I decided to renovate the house. While we were changing the flooring we discovered this below the floor,’ Vyom picked up a cloth sack he had brought along with him and taking out a clay pot from it, he handed it over to the old man. Shashank opened the lid and the sheen of gold coins lit up his face. Dinara gold coins issued during the reign of Samudragupta’s father. Vyom studied the old man’s expressions carefully in a fleeting glance and remarked, ‘These are probably your brother’s savings and after his death this rightfully belongs to you now.’ Shashank tried to conceal his expression but he was overjoyed. After his retirement, the palace provided him with an allowance every twenty-eight days. The money provided him a decent but not lavish lifestyle. However, more money was always welcome and this was a small fortune of gold coins. ‘I am surprised you came all the way here to hand this over to me when you could have conveniently kept it with yourself,’ Shashank said, his voice conveying his skepticism. Vyom suddenly looked very uncomfortable and at loss of words; then tears flowed down from his eyes. Shashank was a bit taken aback and offered his guest some water. Vyom’s voice quivered. ‘Ah! My wife had also advised me to not mention about this to anyone and keep this for ourselves or just return a small portion of this to the rightful owners. As fate would have it, she only lived for two lunar months after we discovered this pot. Poor thing died of a snake bite. I was also bedridden with fever for close to half a year. I lost everything; my business rivals took advantage of my absence and poached my customers by tempting them with lower priced goods. They firmly established their relationship with the silk vendors and floated some bad rumours about the quality of my products. By the time I resumed business, I was nowhere in the marketplace. It is then that I figured out that it was greed for these gold coins that rightfully belonged to somebody else that had started this cycle of tragedy. These coins were unlucky for me. So I decided to hand them over to the rightful owner.’ Shashank leaned forward and kept his hands on Vyom’s shoulder to console him, ‘I am sorry to hear about your plight.’ ‘Now that I have done my duty like an honest man, I would like to bid adieu and go to Gaya,’ said Vyom. ‘Why Gaya? Are you not going back to our village?’

‘As I told you, my business has failed. At home, without work to distract me, I was haunted by the memories of my deceased wife. So I sold the house. Now, I roam around like a vagabond, doing odd jobs and trying to start my life afresh. Gaya is a good place to find a job,’ replied Vyom his eyes glancing occasionally to ascertain what the old man was thinking. Shashank thought for a moment and said, ‘I am the retired head of the Rajgriha palace administration team. If you want, I can help you get a job inside the palace.’ Vyom’s face lit up as he replied, ‘You would do that for me? I will be indebted for life. It will be good for a start. I can read and write. I am fast with calculations also.’ The brown dog had become even more restless, straining at its leash, trying hard to break away. It was not clear whether it was getting anxious to attack the stranger or to run away from him. Vyom looked at it with his penetrating eyes and said something with a giggle that further infuriated the animal. Shashank proceeded to write a recommendation letter on a palm leaf using a quill and lamp black ink.

That afternoon, Vyom entered the Rajgriha palace complex. This was the first time he was there. He had previously been to the Vakataka palace complex but this was larger, with more grandeur. The Saka capital of Ujjaini was supposed to be grander than Rajgriha but Vyom wondered if any palace could ever overshadow the sheer mesmerizing majesty of this. Stone guardian lions on pillars stood all the way from the gates to the main hall. One of the prominent structures of the complex was the Mahavishnu temple which had a dome shaped like the mythical Mount Meru, the heavenly abode of the gods. A narrow moat filled with white water ran around the temple which was partially white; Vyom wondered if it was because of milk offered to the deity or white pigment added to signify the sea of milk on which Lord Vishnu rested. The central structure was the primary block consisting of palaces, the royal court and offices. The Mahavishnu temple was to its east and towards the west was the residential block housing all the aristocrats, nobles, chiefs and their families. There were lavishly laid gardens and lotus ponds. While he was in the primary block, Vyom momentarily managed to peep into the central hall. It had a huge ceiling shaped like a lotus that was opening up; the hall had ten equidistant pillars, each with a carved image of the re-incarnations of Vishnu. The walls made of quarried sandstone had carvings of dancing apsaras and episodes from the Ramayana. In the centre, stood a towering statue cut out of a single stone – Narasimha– half man and half lion. He never appreciated this kind of opulence and loathed the affluent class of society. These people live such a lavish, pampered and protected life while the rest of the world rots in its suffering, he thought. In an unjust world, it was people like him who brought some balance. His profession always targeted kings, noblemen or rich merchants. They would cut short the privileged existence of these people and their families. It would put them face to face with the realities of life of the majority of people. Vyom asked for directions to the administrative office. Soon after, he stood before the chief administrative officer of Rajgriha palace with this recommendation letter from Shashank. The plump officer looked at the candidate – curly haired, muscular, amber eyes. The officer did not mention it, but he was a little surprised that a silk trader could look so athletic and trim.

‘The person who has recommended you is someone under whom I trained and groomed for years. He was my mentor and guardian. So his wish is my command. However, the timing is not correct. I don’t have any jobs inside the palace I can offer you as of today,’ the officer said. Vyom pleaded, ‘Mahodaya! I am in desperate need for a job. Any job will do.’ ‘You are skilled in reading, writing and calculations. The jobs I have are not suited for you. We have to wait till we have the job opening for a scribe in the king’s court or of a store’s foreman inside the palace warehouse,’ said the officer. ‘Please help me with something,’ pleaded Vyom. ‘I am sorry. There is nothing at the moment. You may come after a month and I will let you know if there is something.’ Vyom looked rather dejected as he started to leave. The officer was about to proceed with his regular work when he paused for a moment and called out to Vyom. ‘Not suitable for you but there is a vacancy for a guard on the outer wall of the palace. I am sure you will not prefer...’ Vyom interrupted, ‘Good! I will take it. You can see from my physique that I take good care of my health and have great stamina. Where will I be staying?’ The officer was surprised with the enthusiasm. ‘There is a guard’s accommodation along with the four guard posts near the wall.’ ‘One small thing, if I may ask?’ ‘Go ahead!’ ‘I am a bit of a closed person, I prefer my privacy and I am obsessed with cleanliness. People find it difficult to cope with this nature. Do I have to share my room with another guard?’ The officer was puzzled with the untimely question but he decided to answer, ‘This is the regime of Samudragupta the great. Everything is lavish all around Magadha. There are no compromises made for facilities given to public servants. You don’t need to share your accommodation with anybody.’ ‘Good! I am more than willing to take up this assignment. Sudinamastu! Have a great day!’

Next morning, in Rajgriha town, old Shashank woke up and stepped outside his house to find his dog’s chain hanging limp from the wall where it was fixed. ‘Escaped again! Stupid dog. Where will he go? He should be back by afternoon when he is hungry.’ As he turned to walk inside the house Shashank’s eyes fell upon a white object near the wall. Slowly, one small step at a time, he approached the object and picked it up; almost instantaneously he turned away, retching. No sound came from his mouth as he hastily dropped the white thing from his hands. His hands trembled, his eyes were red; speechlessly, he stared at the grotesque object. Blood smeared with soil. He was holding the lower jaw bone of a dog with portions of skin still stuck to it smeared with a pale red liquid.

(More information and reviews on Amazon India website)

On the third day, Samudra reached his destination, a village near Prayag called Varunapura. There were no cracked mud houses here or damaged thatched roofs. All the houses were made of burnt bricks with slab-covered roofs. The houses were neatly painted; streets were well laid out and clean with no garbage or drainage visible because of a highly efficient waste management system. The prosperous village was celebrating a good harvest, lush green trees swinging in the breeze as far as the eyes could see. A bullock race called Rekala had been arranged by the village council. After the harvest, the farms turned into large empty spaces with mud and no vegetation; multiple farms were combined to form a huge rectangular arena for the event. The contestants had selected, fed and trained their bullocks for the event. The sporting equipment was a pair of bullocks with a ‘T’ shaped plough in the middle. The rider sat on the wooden block at the centre. It had rained unexpectedly so the arena was full of slush and mud. One of the contestants was young Chandra. He was tall and muscular, his complexion wheatish, his hair long and wavy and his features sharp. His presence had attracted a lot of young women from Varunapura and nearby villages to the arena. The girl who was excitedly cheering for him was Madhavasena, his childhood friend, a beautiful, slightly dusky, young girl with curly black hair that reflected the sunshine with a gleam, dreamy eyes and a prominent nose like the people from Yavanadesha. The first time Samudra had seen Madhavasena, she was an eight-year-old destitute orphan who had come to Varunapura to stay with her aunt and uncle after her parents died of the ‘fever’ epidemic. From the very beginning, Samudra was mesmerized by the little girl’s talent for singing. Madhavasena grew up pursuing her singing talent; people would flock to the Vishnu temple at Varunapura on auspicious days to catch her performance. Today, clad in her dark red three-piece angavastra, Madhavasena was a picture of beauty blended with innocence and simplicity.
The contestants waited with bated breath. The village chief struck a metallic gong to signal the start of the race. Five laps to win. Every year, one or the other contestants returned with serious injuries or broken bones after the event. As soon as the gong sounded, the contestants started prodding their bullocks. The riders skillfully sprinted to reduce the burden on the animals and hit their animals from behind occasionally. Only when they were unable to catch up with the speed of the animal would they stand, temporarily, on the wooden block secured between the animals. Chandra climbed onto the wooden plank only when he blazed past the corners of the rectangular arena when the animals anyway had to slow down. There, he would pause to breathe and channelize his energy before sprinting again. While traversing the length and breadth of the arena, he would dash at an impressive speed on the slush behind the accelerating animals. His white dress was now dark brown with slush. The village crowd was euphoric, roaring lustily. At the end of the third lap, he had five riders ahead of him. Then suddenly, as if he had conserved his energy for the finish, Chandra started increasing his speed. He managed to overtake two riders and at the end of the fourth lap, he had only three riders ahead. Chandra ran with all his energy and his animals too ran very fast. He crossed one rider, then the next and then the rider who was leading the race. The crowd was ecstatic. Chandra had half a lap left and could see the finish line ahead of him. Madhavasena and Samudra were jumping with joy, yelling ‘Chandra! Chandra!’ Chandra was dashing across the arena in a flash. With victory in sight, Chandra hit his animals who responded with increased momentum, then abruptly Chandra’s leg slipped on the wooden block and he fell down still holding on to the leash. He tried to regain balance and stand up so as to run behind the animal but he fell. He was sliding through the slush and his bullocks were running but he did not let go of the leash. Two riders behind him managed to overtake him and Chandra finished third. A portion of the crowd including Madhavasena and Samudra still continued chanting Chandra’s name. Chandra walked towards the two victors and patted their shoulders in appreciation. ‘Tough luck! Otherwise you had almost won the race,’ said the winner. ‘Nothing like that! You both did really well, my compliments. I am fine with losing and bad luck. It’s too much good luck that ends up being the devil’s trap,’ remarked Chandra. Samudra was happy to see the young man’s positive spirit. Panting, covered in mud and slush, he recognized a relative in the crowd and walked towards, ‘Mama Som! You are here after such a long time.’ ‘Good show, my dear! Some bad luck otherwise you would have been the winner,’ Samudra said. Chandra smiled, ‘I did my best and so did everyone else. What is important is that the best men win at the end of the day, and they did. I will make no excuses.. Let’s go for a swim.’

Chapter-10

THE SPY

Viraj was doing his regular rounds diligently across the perimeter of the palace complex. Tonight, he was inspecting the creepers trailing from the other side towards the inside of the inner walls. His shift was over and he was eager to leave, to be with his wife and his newborn baby girl in their small house near the Shiva temple. In the light of the full moon, something caught his attention. It stood apart from the regular. He pointed his fire torch at the creepers. This is really strange, he thought, unable to decide whether he should leave for the time being and report in the morning or pursue the matter right away. He could clearly make out a rope behind the green leafy creepers, made of hemp with knots which could be used very effectively by a trained intruder. Viraj decided to immediately inform the head of security on the inner wall, the veteran Raghuvar. As he dashed nervously across the palace garden towards Raghuvar’s room he heard a rustling sound behind him. He stopped and looked behind. No one. He hurried along on the royal path leading to the guard’s section and Raghuvar’s workplace. Hastily, he pushed open Raghuvar’s door; Raghuvar was seated on a wooden chair examining some documents on his desk in the light of a small oil lamp. Raghuvar was working till late; he had work to complete before leaving on a long pilgrimage of temples near Mathura and Vrindavan. It was his last year before retirement and Raghuvar was taking it easy at work with frequent long leaves. ‘Mahodaya! There is a situation and I thought I must immediately inform you about it,’ Viraj was panting as he spoke the words. Raghuvar sounded sleepy, ‘What is it that brings you to my desk at this time in the night when you should be patrolling the palace compound?’ ‘Someone has put a rope from across the other side of the inner wall concealed behind the creepers. It has equidistant knots to facilitate foothold and hand grip to the person using it,’ said Viraj. Raghuvar’s expression changed as he pounced up from his chair and went near Viraj, ‘That is worrisome. You mean someone is using this for trespassing into the inner palace complex.’ Viraj nodded and Raghuvar started to think aloud, ‘This kind of arrangement cannot be a one-time trespass; there’s more to it. It is a more regular activity. I think we must inform the seniors immediately, especially Dandanayaka Harishena. This is surely an insider and his intentions are sinister.’ ‘What are the orders for me?’ asked Viraj. ‘Did you hear that sound?’ Viraj replied, ‘No!’ Raghuvar said, ‘I felt as if I heard something on the roof of this room. Nonetheless, you hide behind the hedges of the palace garden in the dark and monitor vigilantly till midnight. If we are lucky, the intruder will use the rope tonight and we will have his identity. If he does not turn up tonight, we will repeat this surveillance tomorrow. Also, for god’s sake this should remain between you, me and Dandanayaka Harishena for the next few days.’ Viraj asked, ‘Why is that? Can’t we inform our palace guard team about this finding?’ ‘No! Firstly, I don’t trust people even within our internal team. Speaking to other people will mean that it will eventually reach the ears of our enemies. Also, we should track down any accomplices who work with the intruders. I want to catch all of them totally unaware and for that this has to remain a secret.’ Closing the door behind him, Viraj left for the palace garden. Raghuvar got ready to ask for an emergency meeting with Harishena. Viraj walked quietly in the cold moonlit night to the palace garden and took up position behind a hedge of tall shrubs. Even though his shift was over he did not refuse Raghuvar’s order to keep watch till midnight. His eyes were fixed on the creepers trailing the wall in front of him. He waited for a long time; it was quiet and peaceful around him. Slowly, his eyes closed and before he knew it, he was fast asleep behind the shrubs, on the frost covered grass. He was woken up by the sound of something rustling through the tall grass in front of him. He sprung up instantly but it was a stray mongoose. Viraj smiled and pressed a hand to his heart; his heart was still pounding. The wait was endless and his eyelids were heavy with sleep. Suddenly, Viraj saw a dark figure appear on top of the wall from the other side. His heart thudding, he watched the dark silhouette that had slid down the rope silently and skillfully till he landed on the ground. The flawless precision and speed would put a trained acrobat to shame. The dark figure stood right in front of the hedge behind which Viraj was hiding. Viraj tried to recognize the intruder’s facial features but his face was turned away from the moon. The dark figure turned around and for a moment the moon lit up his face. One look and Viraj felt as if his heart would break out of his chest. At once the dark figure disappeared into the shrubs behind the pond. Viraj could not breathe. His mouth wide open, he gathered courage and stood up. He sprinted on the royal path in front of the pond then took a sudden detour behind the palace residential block to reach Raghuvar’s room. When he barged in, Raghuvar was still seated at his desk. ‘I saw him Mahodaya. You won’t believe this. The intruder is Vyom, the guard of the outer wall!’ Raghuvar mumbled something which was not audible to Viraj. The room was only partially illuminated by a small lamp on the wooden desk and a fire torch attached to the wall. Viraj could not figure out what Raghuvar was trying to say. As he came nearer he saw Raghuvar’s eyes were red. ‘You look angry or disturbed about something.’ Raghuvar’s eyes were protruding. Confused, Viraj sat down on the wooden chair in front of him. A drop of blood dripped down Raghuvar’s lips and his body started to shudder. Blood drained out of Viraj’s face as he noticed that the cloth Raghuvar used to wrap around his neck due to the cold was now tightly fastened around his neck while the old man was gargling blood. Suddenly a dark figure sprung up from behind Raghuvar’s chair. Amber eyes looked at him and the lips curved into a sly smile. Vyom looked like the angel of the dark.
Viraj slid down on the floor and crawled towards the door. ‘Oh Lord Vishnu!’