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Siddhartha, lost his kingdom, his inheritance. he thought it was karma, but it was not really that. his journey of destiny was just commening

 

My name is Siddhartha. I am the son of a King. The Crown of Dashattipur is my inheritance

Karma! But I still remember, the night…….it was many years ago

The night was dark and foul.  The main courtyard and its adjacent corridors leading to the king’s Palace were deserted.

There was a uneasy stillness in the preceding weeks, as though it was behold to treachery. A waiting, like a lurking tiger with her eyes locked to pounce.  It was almost like a prophecy of the great deluge about to strike at the kingdom of Dashattipur.

My grandfather, Thamburan Kochu, had insurrected sedition. He exiled my father, the King. Thamburan Kochu got the college of Wadils (Inner council of Barons) to transfer the crown to the younger Prince Vatish, my uncle. The king was blinded by the sudden shift of loyalty. His father was against him.

‘For How long has this betrayal been brewing?’ he wondered. ‘Only a few weeks ago’, he said to himself…’only a few weeks, the Wadils had gathered the honor the king with trophies embossed with individual court of arms. The color of power had changed dramatically, was all the affection a staged act?’, the bile swelled into his mouth, at the thought. Perhaps, the king had trusted the Wadils, implicitly.

‘Karma” thought Siddhartha. Karma, meant Luck and Fate; and God and the Devil; good choices and bad consequences combined

The king, my father was a lean, trim man, in his early forties. He had ashen grey eyes, like a cat. A warrior who had lead many battles, who melted at every sad story, his fame was legendary throughout the Kingdom of Dashattipur. His years as king were years of bounty, laughter and harmony.

The Court of arms, a charging knight and stead with the eagle hovering above, hung above the main door. I do not know what transpired that week, but it made drenched him. He ducked to the sideline as the Wadils and royal guard shifted loyalty. The Choices were stark, fight for honor, stand divergent to Thamburan or yield and fight another day. He was quarantined by the royal guard at the King Palace and the queen and child at the zenana palace. 

That night, Siddhartha recalled, the wind tore through the palace windows. Loose canopies felt crashing in surrender.  As the rain squall rattled the windows, violence was in the air. The proclamation was announced, the power and crown was transferred.

There was a commotion and noise of a thousand feet trotting as though in a single line. Thamburan kochu, paralyzed, was carried into the king’s Chambers.

The king bowed to the ground.

‘Your sword, the Samser’, Thamburan Kochu said briskly, ‘now’

‘Why do you need, you have the crown don’t you?’ the scorn and edge showing in Thamby’s reply

‘it belongs to the crown’

‘And if, I won’t’ as King Thamby touched the hilt

 

‘Sire relent’, shouted the Capitan, as the Soldiers pointed the spears, ready to spring if the sword moved an inch further.

King Thamby looked around; he could not believe it, from King to criminal in a few days… all by treachery.  ‘Do I kill my father?’ he pondered in a flash.

‘Your sword, the Samser’ lashed Thamburam Kochu again

The command to yield the sword seemed to King Thamby, equaling the thumping in his chest as he weighed the future and the insanity of death all within the swirl of a second.

He knelt down and place Samser on the mat. (Samser was the sword of build on Words of rock)

‘I’ll be back’

‘Not in another 100 years’…with smirk of sarcasm Thamby knew of his father ‘I’ve sealed everyway…never will you get this throne’

‘I’ll be back or my son will’ Thamby retorted with all the grit he could muster.

‘You have no allies in all of  Aznawar Deh (Continent of Nobles), the walls will never be breached by you’

“I’ll be back’ was all Thamby could say

“I’ve opened the elephant gate, a caravan is waiting with your wife and son, don’t look back. The elephant at the gate will be an immortal hindrance’ Thamburam Kochu retorted

 King Thamby, hung his head in defeat.

An era had passed. My mother’s lullabies hummed about crown and country. The lullabies, like stories of yore, ignited dreams of valor and righteousness. The sweet rhyme, with the twilight, sprang visions of kingship and promise of greatness. Karma!

Then yesterday, at dusk, an old man came home.  The old man had a dignified bearing, walking like a prince. He had a strong body too.  His eyes, they were rich with expression. He asked room for the night. Panah (the Code of refuge followed by Nobles) the privilege of a stranger to get a roof on demand! I knew he deemed more than a stranded traveller.

He did not talk much.

I went to sleep early. I did not have to struggle, dripping into deep sleep quickly. The stranger walked into my dream, and released a caterpillar into the rooms of my mind. The caterpillar of white ran across the room slipping from one to another, nibbling all the worries and dark emotions. I tried to stop the caterpillar, but the stranger held me back. The caterpillar continued to nibble till every room was empty.  

Then I turned around. A shadow grew large and a radiant lion walked into the room. I did not feel frightened.  Then I saw the world and all the kingdoms of Aznawar Deh.  The lion bend down and picked up the earth.

‘Oh sir, what are you doing? I cried

The lion shook the earth violently, with all its might; again and again. The dust of the kingdoms fell in a basket. All of it! The lion picked up the basket and said looking at me “See the dust of Aznawar Deh are in my hands’

Then I sleep again. It seemed the stranger had a little more to show me. A bright light rose up. A lamb came walking with a balance.

‘What do you want to weigh Sire?’ I asked, feeling a deep sadness within me. The lamb plucked the all the kingdoms of Aznawar Deh, all the mountains and terrains and put them into the left side of the balance. Then the lamb spoke a few words whose meaning was inexpressible. To my amazement left balanced itself with the right.

I did not understand anything. I felt a thrill but uncertain by all its meaning.

The old man sensing my disquietedness, said ‘It was appointed before time that you will become king’.

He added ‘collect the amour of Xwadayih, the signet of authority. You need more than a sword to win you kingdom back”

He pointed his finger to the Kaavad, the door of many dimensions.

I awoke and searched for the Old man, the stranger who walks into dreams. I searched for him everywhere.

I was not alarmed; I was filled with an excitement. I knew it was not karma, but appointed purpose and destiny. Mine was just beginning. 

 

The End

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