Ashok K. Banker [Banker - Rage of Jarasandha

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RAGE OF JARASANDHA

Ashok K . Banker

KRISHNA CORIOLIS

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About Ashok

Ashok Kumar Bankers internationally acclaimed Ramayana Series has been hailed as a milestone ( India Today) and a magnificently rendered labour of love ( Outlook ). It is arguably the most popular English-language retelling of the ancient Sanskrit epic. His work has been published in 56 countries, a dozen languages, several hundred reprint editions with over 1.2 million copies of his books currently in print.

Born of mixed parentage, Ashok was raised without any caste or religion, giving him a uniquely post-racial and post-religious Indian perspective. Even through successful careers in marketing, advertising, journalism and scriptwriting, Ashok retained his childhood fascination with the ancient literature of India. With the Ramayana Series he embarked on a massively ambitious publishing project he calls the Epic India Library. The EI Library comprises Four Wheels: Mythology, Itihasa, History, and Future History. The Ramayana Series and Krishna Coriolis are part of the First Wheel. The Mahabharata Series is part of the Second Wheel. Ten Kings and the subsequent novels in the Itihasa Series dealing with different periods of recorded Indian history are the Third Wheel. Novels such as Vertigo, Gods of War, The Kali Quartet, Saffron White Green are the Fourth Wheel.

He is one of the few living Indian authors whose contribution to Indian literature is acknowledged in The Picador Book of Modern Indian Writing and The Vintage Anthology of Indian Literature. His writing is used as a teaching aid in several management and educational courses worldwide and has been the subject of several dissertations and theses.

Ashok is 48 years old and lives with his family in Mumbai. He is always accessible to his readers at www.ashokbanker.comover 35,000 have corresponded with him to date. He looks forward to hearing from you.

PRARAMBH

As one, the crowd rose to its feet, cheering the winners and shouting and celebrating. Assuming the tournament was at an end, the royal musicians began playing a merry tune which in turn led the crowd to dancing. Court dancers, groomed to come on the side field and dance for the audiences pleasure the instant the game was over, came out and danced, adding to the festive mood.

The news of Krishnas and Balaramas success spread throughout the city. But those who waited in the streets, like the Vrishni contingent, did not rise to their feet and dance and celebrate. Not yet.

The Usurper was still alive. The Childslayer. The Demon King of Mathura.

Kamsa still stood on the field, very much alive, seething with rage and impotent fury.

As the dancers danced around him and the musicians played, he roared. At once, his aides passed on his commands, and in another instant the music stopped, the dancing ceased and everyone resumed their seats nervously, for nobody dared ignore Kamsa himself. Not so long as he lived.

Enough! Kamsa thundered. Enough of this despicable spectacle.

He stepped forward. Seize those two murderers. They have violated the law of the land. I want them arrested and executed within the hour.

He waited for the Imperial Army to do as he commanded. But no soldiers came forward. Nobody saluted or barked orders, following through on his command.

Instead, General Bana stepped forward, almost casually. Apologies, my Lord, Bana said, loudly enough to be heard and for his words to be passed on to those too distant to hear them directly. But the Imperial Army has chosen to join the movement to restore the rightful King to his throne. King Ugrasena, your father.

Kamsa raised both fists in anger. Had Bana been close enough to strike, he would have smashed Bana to pulp with a single blow for his impudence. I demand that Ugrasena be executed at once as well. He is clearly siding with these rebels against the Empire!

Akrura stepped forward, showing himself. Ugrasena has no part in this. We the citizens of the land support his cause of our own accord. It is we who wish that he be released and restored to the throne as is his right.

Kamsa pointed an accusing finger at Akrura. You traitor. I will see to you afterwards. Right now, I will show you what it means to oppose the might of Kamsa and the Magadhan Empire.

Kamsa turned to face the royal pavilion. Emperor Jarasandha, he called out. My father-in-law and father in truth, I ask that you unleash your Mohini Fauj upon the ungrateful citizenry of Mathura to teach them a lesson. Even my own Army has turned against me, clearly seduced by this Vrishni rebellion. Wipe them all out! Kill every last Vrishni man, woman and child. Exterminate the clan from this earth. Do all this and Mathura is yours, a part of your great Magadhan Empire!

Jarasandha rose from his seat and turned to go. All his aides and advisors followed him without so much as a backward glance at Kamsa.

Kamsas face crumpled. Father! he cried. Where are you going? I have need of you! Please stay. Help me quell this rebellion. We shall achieve all your plans!

Jarasandhas chariot, clearly readied and kept waiting for just this moment, came briskly to a halt before the royal pavilion. The Magadhan paused and glanced scornfully at his son-in-law. Mathuras troubles are not Magadhas troubles. You have made your bed here. Now lie in it.

Kamsas face showed that he had never expected such treatment, not in a thousand years of imagining. But you want Mathura! I know you do! It is the jewel in the crown of your empire. You said so yourself only last night.

Jarasandha nodded. So it shall be. And I shall have it. But in my own way, at my own time. Soon. Very soon. But first, I shall leave you to sort out your internal political disagreements on your own. My daughters, your wives, have already been sent ahead to their summer palace. They shall await you there, in case you are still able to come visit them after this issue is resolved. If not, then I shall return soon enough to continue my plans with Mathura.

Jarasandha mounted the chariot. Kamsa lost all sense of dignity. He ran after the chariot, crying out. But I am your son-in-law. You love me as a son!

And now, I leave you to stand on your own two feet, my son, Jarasandha said. Then with one sharp crack of his whip, he spurred his horses forward, and raced the chariot away, leaving Mathura through the deserted army cantonments, the only route not crowded by citizens and militia and Imperial Mathuran troops who were all on duty throughout the city today.

Kamsa watched Jarasandha leave and even in the shape of his back, Krishna saw his uncles entire strength leave him.

By the time Kamsa turned, he was already a broken man.

But he was a broken man with the power of a supermortal and the strength and fury of a rakshasa.

YOU, he cried out in a voice that boiled the air like thunder. YOU ARE THE SOURCE OF ALL THAT AILS MEPRESERVER OF MORTALKIND. SO YOU ARE A GOD INCARNATE. NOW LET US SEE IF YOU CAN FACE A VERITABLE GOD AMONG ASURAS.

And as all Mathura watched with horrified astonishment, Kamsa began to grow larger, larger, and still larger. Until he once again stood with his head high among the clouds, bigger than he had ever been before in his early transformations as a rakshasa. But still as dense and powerful as he had learned to make himself with the help of Jarasandhas potions and Putanas Haihaiya poison.