...Finding The Light...
Chapter 1
"You will not be punished for your anger, you will be punished by your anger."
----Gautam Buddha
"Maaa!!!!..." The heart wrenching vigorous scream of young brave heart spread throughout the battleground as his blood drenched wounded feature fell onto the blood pools on ground joining with his fellow people whose lifeless bodies were scattered around. He opened his blood red eyes for the last time before taking the final breath. He could see only the dead bodies around him laying on the pool of bloods. He could even recognize some of them. The little boy from his neighborhood cottage who was so fond of him and used to go out with him to collect honey on the forest everyday, the old fruit seller from the market from whom they always used to steal mangoes and run away, the most beautiful girl of her colony whom he dreamed of marrying like the other young fellow was lying just some distance away from him. Her beautiful face looks like a demon at the moment drenched by blood and covered with vigorous wounds. He searched for his elder brother, his father who also joined the war for his motherland's liberty but he couldn't see them anywhere. He could clearly understand that they could never be able to see them in his life. Might be on some other world, where they might be already pacing towards, can unite him with them. The setting sun spread his last blood red rays upon the hazardous battleground adding to the color of red blood. The whole battle ground was facing the last few hours of a vigorous battle which mother earth witnessed in decades. There were literally the mountain of dead bodies, chopped organs, broken weapons all over over painted by the red. The scene couldn't even be described by the world horrible, it was more than that. It seemed like mother earth was crying the blood red tears seeing the violence set upon her and her tears were flowing down the river Daya which's clean blue water had turned into red. The vultures who were roaming over the battle ground seemed confused seeing the huge feast in front of them and they didn't know from where to start.
The young fellow had still left with some breath. He could hear the sound of death approaching nearby. They all knew from before that they might not be successful against the huge army of the mighty king whose destructive eyes had fallen upon their motherland. But the liberated mind people of the country never agreed to give up without a battle. Their army were huge and they were nothing compared to them. They were fully armed and skilled soldiers in king's army, they were the common people living out there. Most of them were holding weapons for the first time. Still they faced them and didn't go back fearing the destruction they caused every day. Being amateur in battle they did the equal destruction to the king's army or might be more than that. No one left the place till there was a single breath left in their body.
"The mighty king will only get our dead bodies to eat, our blood to drink and a whole funeral ground to live and rule." That was the oath taken by them and they remembered them till the end.
The last rays of sun fell upon his face. He laughed in unendurable pain. He couldn't take it anymore. There was not a single part in his body which was deprived of wound. Blood was oozing out from the deep cut sucking out life from his body. With his shrunken face but gleaming eyes with valor he looked towards his killer who was standing in front of him like a statue and looking towards him with big wide eyes. He was breathing heavily. The shock in his face confused him. There was nothing like a single glint of mercy in his eyes while he was battling with him a moment ago. Looking at his speed and skill he was sure that he couldn't defeat him but still he didn't backed of. He looked confused looking at that sudden tender shock in his killer's eyes. He didn't know who was he but looking at his out-feat he seemed a person with very high status. Might be some high status soldier in king's army or might be... The King Himself?!!...
However he didn't have time to search on that. His eyesight was getting blur and soon the eternal darkness covered his vision.
The tall valorous man, armed with a big sword, golden armor containing the royal sign looked silently towards the young boy at his front. He didn't beg for mercy once when his blade was slashing him. When his gleaming eyes full of satisfaction lose the glow of life and he lay unmoved among the other dead bodies he stood there all frozen looking to his face. The excitement, the sadistic pleasure he used to get from killing other peoples, having victory over them and making them fall on his feat like before, didn't come back to him. When he attacked him with the death bolt, thrashing his sword directly through him, his vigorous scream seemed like drawing him out of his blood intoxication. His scream made him saw what he had done. He didn't observe that his enemy was only in his middle teenage it seemed, the innocence of childhood didn't even leave him then. His each and every wounds seemed like the sign of glory. His scream fetched down the deep lost memory out of his mind, when he was at his age he used to call his mother whenever he used to get hurt by a single scratch. The scream still roaming in his ear and the pain in that voice described that how much the wounds must be paining. Everything was silent around. Only the sound of the last few dwells from distance could be heard. Among those massacre and destruction he stood all alone covered with wound, sweat and blood like a sign of jeopardy.
Mauryan soldiers didn't take much time to conquer the remaining soldiers of Kaling and then nothing remained. The victorious soldiers started to dance on the dead bodies of defeated crushing them under their feat. The battlefield which was filled with the scream of injured now silently listens to the hollow victorious scream of joy. The general of the Mauryan army Makardhwaj was searching for their King. He didn't see him from so many times. He was around him all the way during the battle but in last few hours he went to the other side. While the others were busy celebrating the win of great war and proudly telling that how they taught a proper lessons to those Kalinga people who dared to mess with mighty king Ashoka, the emperor of almost the whole Jambudwip (old name of India) nation. Makardhwaj felt pathetic seeing their condition. A few moments before they were all scared and ready to leave the battle field seeing the valor and courage of kaling army. They were sure that Kaling army would beat the hell out of them. Even Makardhwaj was worried at the moment cause clearly at that time the aggression of Kaling army was getting over the skilled soldier of Maurya's. Makardhwaj was getting worried after not finding king Ashoka around. He knew that the mighty king was one of the greatest skillful warriors of their time and couldn't be defeated by some amateurs unless if somehow due to the bad luck they might able be to let him down. Makardhwaj's mind quickly denied the worst thought and went away in the battlefield to search for the king. It was so difficult to go through the heaps of dead bodies and bloods. Being in Mauryan Army for so many years he was habituated with the violence of the battle field but the scene even shook him inside. He could admit that he never had such horrible fight and such powerful enemy in his lifetime. There was not a single place there which was empty of blood. The smell of dead bodies was making the place totally hell. He rushed through them to search for his king. After getting far on the side of river Daya he took a deep breath as he found King Ashoka standing at far. He quickly moved towards his side and was a little spellbound seeing the sight.
The mighty king of whole Bharata standing in the middle of dead-bodies, covered with wounds and bloods, holding his sword in hand. Makardhwaj didn't see the victorious glow in king's face he used to see after wining every battle. He seemed lost and frozen. His eyes were fixed to the ground where a teen age boy was lying dead all covered by wounds. Makardhwaj stood silent for some moment getting no response from him. But when the time flew in silence he decided to go forward.
"Congratulations..ohh mighty King!!... We stand out victorious yet again. Kalinga army is defeated totally..." He probed.
His word brought out the king from his frozen state. With a blow he quickly looked towards his faithful army general with bemused eyes.
"We Won oh mighty king!!... The whole Nation is under his highness's control now... from Himalaya in north to the ocean in south, from the great desert of west to the forest of east.. Everywhere the mauryan flag is unleashing the victory of King!!..." Makardhwaj said with respect. But still the mighty king looked disturbed. Even after so much praising, he felt so hollow so gloomy inside.
He won everything?!!... What actually he got after winning?!... The fire of vengeance was burning inside him from the very childhood days when his father king Bindusaar always favored his brother Sushim over him. He always felt underwhelmed, ignored and deprived of everything. His mother, the only person he loved so much in his life was so afraid of his uncontrollable anger. She used to say that if he didn't get control over his temper he afraid that he might burn the whole earth with his rage just like lord Mahadeva's third eye's fire which used to destroy the universe during dooms day. He always told him to learn being merciful. But it was so impossible for him due to the humiliation he got from his brothers every day, the ignorance of his father, everything stored the cartridge inside him for the whole decade and it started t burn from the very day his mother was killed. He killed his each and every brother, throwing that good for nothing Sushim into the burning coal pit he got up to the throne. His fire of vengeance didn't stopped after that, he fought again and again wining each and every little and big empire. Blood bath, violence, scream of people, the bowing head of defeated king used to give him sadistic pleasure and it was like an answer to his deceased father who thought that he was unworthy of throne. He wanted to show him that the son whom he thought of unworthy was wining over the whole world and there won't be any king left there in the nation rather than him. He kept on battling but didn't find the peace anywhere.
The praising of his army general seemed so hollow to his ear. A gust of wind hit him running from the side of river Daya. The wind seemed like the heavy breath of dead people which burned his open wound even more. He looked around and saw the horrible scene of the battle's aftermath which he never witnessed like that before. More he was seeing, he was feeling numb and weak on his knees.
"Ohh Samrat, you are severely injured. Please, let's get back to our tent so I can massage baidya ji to come and take care of your wounds." Makardhwaj said with concern. Ashoka stood still in his position without any response.
"Samrat?!!..." Makardhwaj asked with a loud confused voice.
"What?!... Ohh yeah... let's keep moving general !!" Ashoka said with fumbled voice. They kept on moving towards their tent. Ashoka's gloomy eyes moved around seeing the massacre. He saw the vultures coming down from the above for their feast. He saw them gathering over the dead-bodies. He found a middle aged man's body lying on the pathway and vultures were about to atacck his lifeless corpse. He remembered how greatly he was fighting and what prize he was getting for showing such courage. His dead body would be the feast of vultures in some moment withdrawing the name of unknown brave man's from the page of history forever. And the mighty king who was feeling to teach that man a lesson on the battlefield couldn't see the dishonor of that courageous unknown man and rushed towards the spot to drive away those vultures. The birds sounded angrily as he prohibited their royal feast and flew away with annoyed sound. Ashoka's feet stumbled in something and he fell on the heap of bodies drenched by blood.
"SAMRAT!!!" Makardhwaj screamed and rushed towards the spot to help the king. As he approached nearby he find his king seating on his knees and looking towards a particular spot with wide eyes. Following his eyes makardhwaj saw a young girl and a little boy's lifeless body lying at each other side holding each other's hand tightly. The girl seemed in her early youth and the boy might be around 11 or 12. They seemed brother- sister and makardhwaj was sure that they were not any trained soldiers rather than the common people of Kaling. Both of them fought for their motherland and lost their life. Makardhwaj didn't say anything but his head bowed down in respect to the young brave hearts who lost their life in such a courageous way.
Ashoka stood up with his shaking legs. Makardhwaj clearly understood that something was disturbing him so much. He had to soon take him away from the battle ground.
"Samrat!!.. please!!... Other's might be waiting for his highness's presence on the tent after the victory. They would be worried by your absence." He said.
"General please lend me your hand!!" the tone in mighty king's voice literally shook him. Even after the great win he seemed all gloomy. He was behaving like a defeated person. Makardhwaj stretched his hand without a word and Ashoka took it ordering him to lead towards tent. He obeyed his duty. Ashoka followed him with unconscious stumbled feet looking towards the destruction around with his gloomy eyes. For the first time in his life Ashoka felt that his mother was right when he said that his anger would eat up everything, even himself!!
He had fulfilled his dream. He won the whole nation but why that hollow feeling is crippling inside him?! That teenage boy's last scream seemed like haunting him all over. He could feel the heavy breath of the death's around. In front of his gloomy eyes the sun set down painting the sky with the blood red color. He felt so satisfied seeing that color before but seemed like that blood red color would haunt him for the rest of his life!!
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Well people this is a little tribute from my side. It's a fictional account on the aftermath of the kaling war which was the turning point of the great king ashoka... Though I don't know how much I have done justice cause it is a real typical concept to write down and well I was a very bad student in case of history...😆...
Well, I am eager to know the views out here. I am ready for anything like juta, chappals, tomatar.. whatever u may wish to throw at me after reading this..😆... so shoot me... Jokes apart... Criticism, Wise words I am ready for everything from my readers and please ignore the spelling mistakes... I am so bad at literature part,,😆
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