Aryavart had become another name for 'mayhem'; that was what had become of the great land.
A land which was steeped in rotten casteism. What once was well balanced by the 'adharmis' was now unbalanced by the 'dharmis'.
The pundits had the know all and do all.
They fattened themselves like animals for slaughter, twisted religion, Vedas and Purans to their benefit. Whored young women as devadasis and pocketed most of the temple profit.
The kshatriyas had now become the protectors of the 'dharma' or whatever that meant. They had the right to enforce the rigid law of the land on those that wanted to defy it.
The vaishyas gave and recieved bribes, swallowed up heaps of gold, lived like king's and treated their slaves like dirt.
The shudras? I think we all know what became of those lowly miserable people. Their talent stifled, they had no rights, no authority....nothing!
In short the shudras weren't human at all!
It was their girls who were sold off for Godly prostitution or the famed Devdasi pratha.
This wasn't the Aryavart of Balram's dreams. This was no longer the land he had seen visions for.
He simply left.
The only emotion that remained in him was guilt.
A guilt he'd have to live with till the day he died.
"PITASHRI...." She shrieked in desperation.
Her tears were running like an overflowing dam down her eyes and clear mucus ran down her nose. She sniffed and wiped away the flowing mucus before it could reach her lips and then with the same hoarse voice she called, "Pitashri..."
But there was no reply, the little building blazed like a hot furnace melting the clay and wooden beams. The crackle of the sparks sent out flares of heat and bright hungry tongues of yellow and orange which devoured everything around it. The burning building, appeared like a demon against the night sky.
The little girl began crying loudly and looked around the pitch black darkness of the forest hoping someone would hear her. But the only sound she heard was the howling of the wolves.
Just then, she heard the rustle of the leaves and a dark silhouette strayed closer to her. She sniffed once more and rubbed her sore eyes.
The man stood still, tall and towering over the girl. His face was hidden by a cloth and his body draped in black tight fitting clothes. She could make out that the man was a well trained warrior; but nothing about this eerie stranger comforted her.
The silhouette moved ever so swiftly and raised his double edged sword into the air. The girls heart rate began doubling and her breathing had stopped completely.
The silver metal of the sword shone under the white glint of the moon, as it was about to land on her sleek throat. Although she was trembling with fright, a symbol caught her eye.
It was a peculiar eight pointed star with four smaller lines behind the prominent star. The symbol hung like a pendant from the band of the killer.
As the sword came down on her, she pushed the man and nearly tore a piece of his cloth and dashed away. The surprised man began sprinting behind the girl.
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Karna's Secret (On hold)
Historical FictionLost in pain, guilt and endless suffering was a child who feld for his life from the war torn Aryavart. He had nothing more with him, his memories failed him and yet he was taken in and given the name Perseus. He grew up, became Greece's most belo...
