Fragments from a Shattered Image: Fragment Twelve

Drona was panting by the time he reached the abode of Parasurama. It was the rumours that sped him hence. He had heard that the warrior sage was giving away the wealth he had amassed over his life time to Brahmanas. And he had come there in the hopes of getting something, at least a cow or two. His face twisted as he thought of his abortive attempts to gain a cow till then. No one in their part of Bhatatavarsha seemed able to gift a poor Brahmana with a cow. All were too poor! His lips curled in contempt. The advent of Kali was too near if this was how Brahmanas were treated!

He wiped the sweat of his brow, catching his breath. The area was quite deserted. He wondered if he'd been hoaxed. Surely, if the sage was giving away his possessions, there ought to be a crowd of Brahmanas there? Had he been made a fool of?

Just then, a man came out of the hut. Even though Drona had only heard tales of the great sage, he could recognize him. The warrior-like stance, the scars on his arm, the fierce gaze, all told him that he was in the presence of the great Parasurama himself. He hurried to the sage and greeted him with folded palms.

"I am a poor Brahmana," said he. "Drona, the son of Bharadwaja. I have come on hearing that you are giving away your possessions. Please do not send me away empty-handed!"

A shadow crossed the serene face of the sage. The fierce eyes became sad.

"You have heard right, O Drona. But you have come too late. I have no possessions left in the world now."

Disappointment, starker than anything he'd known before filled Drona's heart. There was a bitter taste in his mouth.

"However," the sage continued. "I cannot send you away empty handed. Therefore I offer you to choose between the only two possessions I have left in this world: my life or my knowledge of weapons. I have nothing else to give you."

Knowledge of weapons? Drona had never aspired to that. He knew enough of warfare to impart basic training to any student who might come to him. But what Parasurama offered went beyond that. It was knowledge, the likes of which, he had never even dreamed of. The sage was the student of Lord Siva himself. The knowledge he could give was going to ensure that Drona would be unique. His skills and knowledge would be coveted. He would be sought after by all.

He bowed low, "Accept me as your pupil, O great one, and impart to me your knowledge of weapons."

Fragments of a Shattered Image: Fragment 9

Satya sat down on a couch. Her limbs ached.

'I'm growing old,' she thought. But that was only to be expected. She grew more tired but less sleepy. She also felt less hungry these days, though her memory was still sharp.

Small mercies, thought Satya. Small mercies.

She sighed. Her tiredness and physical aches were less than the grief of her heart. The last rites of her grandson was over. His five sons were so small. She wondered if her step son and grandson would care for those.

She had no energy left to worry for them now.

She looked up as her son was announced.

"Krishna," she smiled at him. He was called Vyasa by all these days, Veda Vyasa. But to her he would always be Krishna.

"Mother," he bent down to touch her feet.

"Ayushman bhavah" she blessed him.

"Mother," he said as he sat down next to her on her invitation. "It is time you left the palace. It is time for you to leave the world behind."

She gazed at him. He was right of course. She should leave for the forest. It was the way of things, of life.

She sighed again. She had buried her husband, two sons and now a grandson. She did not want to watch more deaths. Her son was right. She should leave.

She gave him a faint smile and nodded.

"It is time," she echoed.

Fragments from a Shattered Image

Fragment 6

Satya could hardly contain her joy. The two Princesses were beautiful and seemed quite docile. Unlike their eldest sister. Satya wanted to forget the unpleasantness caused by Amba. Vichitravirya's marriage was the perfect opportunity.

She smiled at her step son. Bheeshma's expression was inscrutable, but she felt that he was just as happy as she was.

She was grateful to Bheeshma for procuring such excellent brides for his brother. With two young and beautiful wives, her son would surely develop a sense of responsibility.

It was not long before all Satya's relief and joy evaporated. Her son seemed to be interested only in spending time with his wives. The affairs of state were left to be managed by Bheeshma and herself.

She had seen the worry on Bheeshma's face and knew it was reflected on her face too. She was steadily growing more anxious. But Vichitravirya seemed not to care.

Neither she nor Bheeshma could do anything other than counsel him. And yet, their words seemed to have no effect. Satya tried to get her daughters in law to counsel their husband. But they were too docile and too much in love with him. If they spoke, he overrode them with no difficulty.

Satya resolved that she would give her son a piece of her mind. It would not be meet. But she was Rajamata. And she had responsibilities.

She was on her way to her son's apartments when the soldier came running. "Rajamata," he gasped. "The King!"

She ran the rest of the way, heart hammering.

"Rajayakshma," the physician said, rising from the side of the bed where the lifeless body of her son lay.

Bheeshma stood impassive. The queens lay on the floor at the foot of the bed. They were beyond tears now.

Satya sat on the bed, stroking the cold face of her son.

"I am sorry mother," there was a finality in Bheeshma's tone. "My vow is irrevocable."

Satya slumped in her seat. Her last hope was gone. But she made one last attempt.

"Do it for Hastinapura, for your line,"

He shook his head. "I would die for Hastinapura," he said. "But I would not break my vow."

"Your death is of no benefit to Hastinapura," her voice held a touch of asperity. And your life is of no benefit too, she added silently. Not unless there was an heir to the throne. Bheeshma had refused to be King yet again. And he had also refused to impregnate his widowed sisters in law as per custom.

"Hastinapura needs a King. It needs an heir."

"I cannot provide that heir. But I can tell you how an heir may be possible."

She looked up at his words, hope fluttering in her breast.

"When my Guru, the great sage Parasurama, purged the earth of Kshatriyas, all the Kshatriya lines faced a similar problem. But the women were advised to approach sages or Brahmanas to impregnate them through the custom of Niyoga. Thus it was the Kshatriya lines were continued." He paused. "If you, mother, can think of a suitable sage or Brahmana, we may approach him for Niyoga on my sisters."

"Vyasa," she said. "My son, Krishna Dwaipayana Vyasa."

And she told him about how her Krishna had come to be born.

"We are truly fortunate that such an illustrious sage is to propagate our dynasty," Bheeshma said. "Send word to him immediately, mother. Let us not waste any more time."

She sent for him, and he came, just as he had promised her. He had changed, she saw. His austerities had made him darker, thinner and his hair was now matted. He had never been very tall and next to Bheeshma, he really looked short.

He had agreed but insisted that her daughters in law should do austerities for a year. But Satya was in a hurry. She was not prepared to wait.

"Then, they will have to embrace me as I am," he had said. "For I cannot clean my body for them."

Satya had agreed. She would talk to Ambika and Ambalika. They would understand. They had to. It was their duty to Hastinapura and the Kurus.

It was Ambika who received the sage. But her son was born blind. Satyavati was distraught. What ill luck it was that plagued the Kurus! How could a blind man be King! In desperation, she sent for her son again.

Krishna agreed to go to Ambalika. She too gave birth to a son. But he was unnaturally pale and seemed weak.

Satya again sent for her son. On her pleading he agreed to go to Ambika again. He came to Satya in the morning.

"It was her handmaiden who received me," he said. "You must ensure that her child is given education befitting a prince too."

"But," Satya said, "You cannot go. I will talk to Ambika."

"For a sage," he said. "Being with a woman more than three times is forbidden. I am sorry mother. I cannot help you any further."

The maid gave birth to a healthy, beautiful baby, leaving Satya to reflect bitterly on the perfidy of fate. But a part of her also rejoiced, for this child alone she could claim as her Krishna's.

Blurb for Elitist Supremacy

Been fiddling around to create a blurb for Elitist Supremacy.

The galaxy of Cynfor is ruled by the immortal despot Cesar Thaxter and his Elite, a highly trained squad of immortal warriors. The Resistance has been trying unsuccessfully to undermine Thaxter’s rule for 800 years, but with no way of neutralizing the Elite and lacking the resources to fight, the Resistance is confined to small pockets in the Galaxy. Forced into hiding, Zain Baako, their leader comes up with a plan to build themselves a safe haven away from the all encompassing reach of the State. But for the plan to succeed, they need to ally themselves with Alexander Selwood, a successful businessman, who is hiding a terrible secret of his own. The Resistance needs Alexander to achieve their goals, but Alexander has his own agendas. Allying with him might be their only chance to further their goals, but what if it places them in even more danger? With his past, how far can they trust Alexander?