He watched her eyes as they blinked slowly, the strands of hair as they danced in the wind. Her lips as they opened and closed to speak words he could not hear. She was incredibly beautiful. It all felt like a dream. He closed his eyes again.
He was back in the palace, in Patliputra. He knew that it was a dream because all the pillars in the great hall were floating in the air. So was Samrat Bindusar’s throne and Samrat Bindusar on it. All of it was floating around him. The whole environment was misty and dreamlike, and had an otherworldly feeling to it.
“Asoka!” Bindusar’s voice thundered at him. “Why do you try to be something you’re not? Nothing will ever come out of it.”
He was looking at Bindusar who was towering high over him.
“I do it because I am good at it.” He said, trying to defend himself. “I am good at fighting battles.”
“You are not a Kshatriya,” Bindusar’s voice echoed all over the place. “Already, you bring shame to my name by acting like one. Furthermore, you want me to give you control of my army.”
“Father, “Asoka begged, “it’s the first time I’ve ever asked something of you.”
“Do not call me father!” Bindusar’s voice was becoming louder and louder.
“Why should he not, My Lord?” His mother’s voice echoed from behind. Asoka tried to turn to look at her, but he could not.
“He surely is your son.” His mother’s voice continued. “My Samrat, it is the second time I ask something of you. The first time I begged you was when you came to visit me for the first time in my chambers. That time I begged you to give me a son and you granted me that. Now I beg of you to give our son what he desires.”
“Our son!” Bindusar thundered. “I slept with a Vaishya woman. It was unwise of me to do so. I could have easily made you my whore, and him, my bastard. No one would have objected. I am the Samrat after all! My will is the law. Yet I gave you justice by marrying you and making him a prince. I owe you nothing more.”
“It is true; you owe us nothing, My Lord.” His mother said, “It is us who owe you service. I beg you. Let my son serve you. That is all he is asking for.”
“Yes, My Samrat.” Asoka said. “I am the best possible man you can send on this mission to Avanti. I know the whole southern country. I have fought in the wars which were fought to capture it in the first place. I have risen in the army ranks by my own accord, from a common soldier to a captain. I know all the passes which lead in and out of the province of Avanti. I have already displayed my ability in battle. I was condemned to be born to a Vaishya mother. All I am asking for is one chance, to prove to the world that it is your blood too that flows through my veins. That the powerful blood of the Mauryas, has the power to make a Kshatriya out of a Vaishya.” Asoka stopped, and found the Samrat looking at him, anxiously.
“I can break this rebellion in Avanti, Samrat, if only you shall give me a chance to do so.” He said, bowing before the throne.
“You have great guts to ask this of me.” Bindusar’s voice was now unbearably loud. “True, you have fought in Avanti before, and you know all the terrain there. But there are other factors which concern me.”
“What factors?” Asoka asked.
“Betrayal!” There was disgust in Bindusar’s voice. “There never has been any love between you and me. If I shall give you an army, what guarantee is there that you would not turn to be a headache for me in the future?”
“Please, My Samrat!” his mother’s voice said. “He will never betray you. No son can ever do that to his father.”
“But I just told him not to call me father.” Bindusar’s voice was deafening.
“I vow to stay faithful to you.” Asoka said. “To stay faithful to Patliputra, come what may.”
“Fine.” Bindusar finally said. His voice was now so loud that Asoka could feel his ear-drums about to burst.
“Fine!” Bindusar said again, “I shall send you on this mission to destroy the rebellion in Avanti. But only if Sushem agrees.”
If Sushem agrees! If Sushem agrees?
The words echoed in Asoka’s head. The voice was so loud that he could feel his head about to burst into a thousand pieces.
If Sushem agrees.
If Sushem agrees.
Asoka felt his head explode as he closed his eyes again.
He opened his eyes. The light filled them slowly. They felt painful as they adjusted to the light. Then, he could feel someone massaging his legs. He looked down to see who it was.
It was the same woman he had seen earlier. The same brown eyes, dark black shining hair. Skin as fair as milk. A spot of indigo on her forehead.
She looked up at him too with wide eyes and her hands stopped moving over his legs. Her touch felt like feather. She was beautiful. It still felt like a dream.
Asoka fell back, and closed his eyes again.
He was in his mother’s chambers, before leaving. It was still a dream, because everything was still floating. He was on his knees, touching his mother’s feet.
“Do your father proud,” She placed her hand on his head to bless him.
“I’ll miss you, Mother.” He said, getting up.
“Don’t change the topic.” Her voice was serious. “This is your chance to impress your father. He is ill. Soon he will be dead, and before he is, he will choose a successor.”
Asoka laughed loudly. “You dream too much, Mother. Me, his successor? Not even in my wildest dreams. Not even if I conquer the whole of Bharath for him will he let me be his successor.”
“But after this assignment in Avanti,” she said, “you shall have an army standing behind you. Then you need not worry about what your father will choose.”
“Mother!” Asoka’s face hardened. “Not five minutes ago, you made me vow to be faithful to him. And now you are asking me to betray him already.”
“Aren’t you listening!” she exclaimed, “the Samrat is ill.”
“He looked alright to me.” Asoka said.
“I know for a fact, that he is dying.” His mother said. “There are no vows to keep for dead men.”
“Even so,” Asoka said, “Sushem is the clear candidate for the throne. He has even started conducting an Ashwamedha Yadnya to attain the title of Chakravartin. He is also the governor of Taxila. He already has an army behind him.”
“And now you will have one too.” His mother said.
“Mother, Mother!” Asoka felt his head spin. “I am the son the Samrat would rather not have had. Needless to say, I could never take his place.”
“Think about it.” His mother said. “All the other Maurya princes are scattered all over the realm, holding no position of responsibility, or power, only whiling away their time and money. If you are to become successful in this mission, you would be in a very unique position indeed. Even if not in favor of your father, you shall be in the favor of the army. You know that the army hates Sushem.”
“And Sushem hates the army.” Asoka said. “But I don’t like where this is going mother. Sushem is my elder brother, after all. He is the next Samrat of the Bharathvarsha and everyone knows it already.”
“You have no elder brother.” His mother’s eyes glowed red. “You are my only son.”
“I know where you are going with this,” Asoka said.
“If Sushem were to die,” his mother said, “you would be in a very unique position indeed.”
“Mother!” Asoka said loudly. “This is fratricide. Killing of my own blood.”
“Sushem does not consider you as his own blood.” His mother said. “Nor does your father. Why should your mind waver at the suggestion of betraying them?”
“This is not you speaking, Mother.” Asoka said.”Someone has been brainwashing you.”
“Yes, someone has been talking to me. A well-wisher of yours.”
“Who?” Asoka asked.
His mother’s lips moved to answer the question, but he could not hear anything at all. The scene was swirling round in his head again. He clos
ed his eyes.
The woman! Her face was all over him. Now clearer than ever! Her eyes shone like pearls. Two strands of dark hair lay on her forehead. A blue colored cotton fabric covered the rest of her head. She was looking straight at him.
Her lips moved, and he could hear her voice. It was so sweet, like a birdsong. He felt himself being lost in her sweet voice, but could not make any sense out of it. She was beautiful!
He lay back and closed his eyes
He was now walking along the stables, outside the city walls, inspecting the horses before their departure. It still felt like a dream, but everything was much more solid.
He was inspecting one horse, when someone hit him with a cow dung ball from behind. The sticky mass hit the back of his head.
He turned. It was a small boy who laughed and ran. Asoka ran behind him.
The boy was fast. He ran along the stables and entered the city gates. Asoka followed him.
The boy ran through the narrow alleys of the city. He tried to get away at each crossing, but Asoka was on his heels.
Finally the boy entered a very narrow alley with big house walls on both sides. Asoka entered it too, but the boy was nowhere to be seen. Asoka walked to the end of the alley, looking everywhere, but the boy had disappeared.
Suddenly someone touched him from behind. His first impulse was to hit the man, but the man’s grip on him was strong and firm.
The man wiped the cow dung stuck to the back of his hair. Asoka tried to turn, but the man did not let him. Asoka caught sight of the man’s face, covered in a black hood.
“I am your well-wisher.” The man said. “The one your mother spoke of.”
“What do you want?” Asoka asked.
“I want to know what you want!” The hooded man replied, as he laughed.
“What do I want?” Asoka repeated, confused. What was the hooded man trying to say?
“I wanted to make you the Samrat of this vast subcontinent.” The hooded man hissed. “I wanted for you to serve a great purpose. But you refused!”
“I only said that no great purpose can be served by killing of my own kin.” Asoka said, holding the hooded man’s hand. He tried to flick it off his shoulder.
But the hooded man pressed on. “So what do you want to achieve?”
“I only want to do what I asked the Samrat to give me an army for!” Asoka said, “I want to end the rebellion in Avanti.”
The hooded man laughed. “What if I make you the Governor of Avanti?”
Asoka simply shrugged.
The hooded man laughed. Suddenly his grip left Asoka’s shoulder and held his hand. Asoka could feel something being slipped onto his finger. A ring! The hooded man left his hand, and Asoka impulsively brought it to the front. It was indeed a ring. A golden ring with a strange black stone! And the stone had a strange symbol engraved on it.
“What is this?” He asked, as he brought the ring closer to his face to observe the symbol. It was of a curled red snake.
“This is the most precious ring in the whole of Bharathvarsha.” The hooded man laughed as he had left his grip upon him and retreated.
“And why?” Asoka asked.
“Break down the rebellion in Avanti, and return to the city.” The hooded man spoke as he kept retreating back. “And then, I shall tell you!”
Asoka spun on his heels to look, but the hooded figure had almost disappeared across the corner.
“Look for the snake,” the hooded man said as he disappeared, “and may you be victorious!”
And then he was gone. Asoka ran to the corner of the alley, but the hooded man had disappeared into the crowd, Nowhere to be seen. Gone!
Asoka felt himself go too, slowly into the darkness. He closed his eyes.
Chanakya
The city of Taxila, 50 years earlier
When the talk of putting the young prince, ‘Asoka’ on the throne began, my mind wandered back to the old days I had spent in the cold dry swathes of the Northwest, almost half a century ago.
It made me think of another Prince of Patliputra who I had put on the throne of this great city. It made me think of Chandragupta, my old student, whose name was now belovedly chanted as the Leader of all the Aryas.
I was young then, much stronger than I am now. I could ride a horse, I could swing a sword. I could walk for the Gods’ sakes!
“Arya Chankya!” the young Raja Ambhi called out to me when he caught sight of me walking up the stairs to his balcony. I still remember all of that vividly. If anyone would ask me what was the day on which my and Chandragupta’s journey towards Patliputra began, I would point to this day.
“Greek soldiers? In Taxila?” the Raja exclaimed as he drank from a golden cup in front of him. He was the Raja of Taxila then, all arrogant and royal and proud as a Raja, and he had just finished listening to what I had told him. We were in the balcony of his palace, which was the second largest building in the city of Taxila. The first one was of the academy, where I worked.
“On spy duty, no doubt,” I said, as I stood leaning on the ivory railing at the edge of the balcony. It was prohibited to sit when the Raja was sitting.
From the balcony, I could see the whole city. Taxila was not too big, but a fine city. Outside the city walls, there was the distant shape of the academy building. That was where I had come from. That was where I would teach.
“But that’s impossible,” Ambhi said, as he took a bite out of the meat he was eating. “The points in the treaty which I signed with the Greeks were very clear. None of their soldiers would place a foot inside my borders, and I would allow their merchants and traders to pass through.”
“What my students saw was clear,” I said, still leaning upon the railing. “My students were hunting in the western jungles which are owned by the academy.”
“Owned by me, given by my generous graces to the academy,” Raja Ambhi was quick to say. He picked up the golden goblet again. The colorful gemstones engraved into it shone as the sunlight fell upon them.
I looked away as the reflected light hurt my eyes. “Indeed, My Raja.” I said. “They saw the Greek soldiers hunting there. No doubt, that would be the best place to hunt, because it is deserted most of the time, until I send my students there, for hunting practice.”
“These students,” Ambhi said, waving his hands in the air, “What are their names?”
“Dileepa and Chandragupta, My Raja.” I said. “Dileepa saw them from a distance, while Chandragupta had a run in with them.”
“Them?” Ambhi said.” I thought you said they saw one soldier!”
“One soldier, My Raja, and one local man guiding him,” I said. “But there will be more for sure.”
“These boys of yours,” Ambhi said. “How did they know that the soldier was Greek?”
“As I said, My Raja, my student, Chandragupta, had a run in with them. He saw a symbol around the soldier’s neck. We have all been quite familiar with this symbol, have we not, since the fall of the Persian Empire?” I extended my hand and showed him the cotton stretched cloth upon which I had asked Chandragupta to recreate the symbol he had seen. Raja Ambhi looked at it intently.
“The symbol of the Greek General.” He said.
“Indeed, My Raja.” I said. “And I have heard only the elite among his soldiers are allowed to wear this around their necks.”
“So you mean to tell me that these elite soldiers are here in Taxila, spying on me?” Ambhi said, leaning back.
“Precisely, My Raja.” I said, relieved that he was finally getting me.
“And why would they want to spy on me?” Raja Ambhi asked. There was a mocking look on his face.
“That we shall have to find out, My Raja.” I said and bowed.
Bowing to him had always seemed to put him at ease. He sat back. “These students of yours,” he said, “They should be rewarded, for speaking the truth, or they should be soundly whipped, if they are lying.”
“Why would they lie, My Raja?” I asked.
&
nbsp; “As the teacher, so is the student.” Ambhi taunted. “You yourself are a Master of lies, Chanakya. I would expect the same thing from your students.”
“Are you still angry at me for having met with Raja Puru without your knowledge?” I asked, disappointed that he was going there.
“Not at all!” Ambhi said, curling his moustache, “If I was angry, I would have had you beheaded. As of now, I am plainly irritated. Puru is my sworn enemy after all. And you had a good meeting with him without telling me!”
“I met Raja Puru to ask what he would offer to you to fight alongside him!” I said. “Even the Hundred Kauravas and the Pandavas fought united against foreign enemies, in spite of the rivalry between them. While your dispute with Puru is a mere trifle. I say you two should make up and be done with it.”
“Our dispute is not a trifling one,” Raja Ambhi shouted. “Puru, that son of a whore, he insulted my wife. That is no small matter. There is no way I shall ever reconcile with him.”
“Your seventh wife.” I wanted to point out, but I kept mum. Raja Ambhi had a reputation of getting very angry, easily, due to small things. And he had already started shouting.
“That imbecile Puru offered marriage to my wife,” Ambhi thundered, his face shaking with rage. “Tried to court an already married woman.”
“In his defense, My Raja, He did not know that she was married.” I pointed out.
“I don’t care.” Ambhi said. “He should have apologized, which he did not.”
These kings! And their pride!
I sighed, “My Raja, there is a foreign enemy on our borders, and here we are, fighting over some alleged proposal to your seventh in rank wife.”
There, I had said it. Now I waited for the Raja to tremble with anger. But that did not happen.
“This is exactly where you and I disagree, Chanakya!” He said. “You see the Greek soldiers as the enemy, while I see Raja Puru as one. In my defense, the Greek general never insulted any of my wives.”
The one you call Greek general calls himself Shahanshah Alexander the great. And he looks at these lands of yours with the same lust with which Raja Puru looked at your seventh wife.
The Prince of Patliputra Page 5