KRISHNA CORIOLIS#5: Rage of Jarasandha
Contents
Rage of Jarasandha
AKB eBOOKS
About Ashok
Prarambh
Prarambh
Prarambh 1
Prarambh 2
Prarambh 3
Prarambh 4
Prarambh Reprise
Prarambh Reprise
Prarambh Reprise 1
Prarambh Reprise 2
Prarambh Reprise 3
Prarambh Reprise 4
Kaand 1
Kaand 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Kaand 2
Kaand 2
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Kaand 3
Kaand 3
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
AKB eBOOKS
Also in the Krishna Coriolis Series
Also in the Krishna Coriolis Series
Also in the Krishna Coriolis Series
Also in the Krishna Coriolis Series
Also in the Krishna Coriolis Series
Also in the Krishna Coriolis Series
RAGE OF JARASANDHA
Ashok K. Banker
KRISHNA CORIOLIS
Book 5
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AKB eBOOKS
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About Ashok
Ashok Kumar Banker’s 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.com—over 35,000 have corresponded with him to date. He looks forward to hearing from you.
PRARAMBH
1
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 audience’s pleasure the instant the game was over, came out and danced, adding to the festive mood.
The news of Krishna’s and Balarama’s 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 your’s, 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.
Kamsa’s 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!’
Jarasandha’s 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. ‘Mathura’s troubles are not Magadha’s troubles. You have made your bed here. Now lie in it.’
Kamsa’s 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 uncle’s 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 ME…PRESERVER 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 Jarasandha’s potions and Putana’s Haihaiya poison.
‘COME NOW, VISHNU,’ he roared as he raised his foot and stamped down hard upon the royal pavilion, crushing every last one of his own entourage without caring if they were still loyal to him or not. ‘LET US SEE IF YOU CAN FULFILL YOUR PROPHECY BEFORE I FINISH DESTROYING MATHURA AND KILLING EVERY LAST YADAVA IN THE CITY!’
***
Mathura was in chaos. Kamsa towered above the city, enlarged to such an enormous size, his head could barely be seen from the ground. He stamped about the cantonment area, smashing and killing everyone he could reach. For some reason, his anger was directed at his own supporters and followers—perhaps because of their betrayal.
‘Bhai,’ Balarama said, ‘we should move the people to safety before he turns his attention to them. I shall do it.’
Krishna turned to thank Balarama for taking the initiative without argument but Balarama was already racing to the pavilion, shouting instructions. Krishna knew there was not much more he could do there. His presence was better put to use against that tower of destruction on its rampage.
He needed no more than an instant to think the situation through. Kamsa’s enlargement had come as a surprise, but not a shock. After all, Krishna had known that his uncle had once possessed the ability to expand and reduce his size. He had also known that Kamsa had acquired the ability to use the same power to make his body denser while remaining the same size. Somehow, Kamsa had found a way to combine both in secret and had waited until this day to reveal his full ability.
If he lived up to his word, as he would no doubt, all of Mathura could be destroyed by his rampaging. The only way to avoid further casualties was to remove him from Mathura. And in order to do that, Krishna would have to make him take this fight elsewhere. Which left only one place to go.
Krishna flew up, rising up in the sky until he hovered high enough to be noticed by Kamsa. Then, using his power to project his own voice, he addressed his uncle.
‘Uncle Kamsa!’
Kamsa had just finished pounding most of the court’s nobility and aristocracy to bloody pulp. Krishna had no sympathy for the rich and overbearing overlords who had aided and abetted Kamsa in his reign of atrocities and abuse all these many years, but it was still sickening to see people trampled thus mercilessly. Tearing apart a supermortal wrestling champion in a bout was one thing. This, on the other hand, was simple murder.
Kamsa turned at the sound of Krishna’s voice. He grinned down at the tiny figure hovering in mid air.
‘MY NEPHEW! DID I SURPRISE YOU? YOU DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT MY ABILITY TO DO THIS, DID YOU? HOW SURPRISING. IT SEEMS THE GREAT DELIVERER IS NOT OMNISCIENT AFTER ALL!’
Krishna ignored the taunt. ‘Uncle. I shall give you one final chance to surrender and live. Only because of our blood relation. Yield now and I shall have you arrested and imprisoned for life. It is more than you deserve and you know it.’
Kamsa chuckled. With his enormous size, it sounded like echoes of a thousand waterfalls crashing down cascades after the monsoons, echoing off a deep ravine’s walls.
‘LIFE IMPRISONMENT? WHY BOTHER. LET’S SETTLE THIS RIGHT HERE AND NOW. IT’S ABOUT TIME. I’VE BEEN WANTING TO FACE YOU, VISHNU, EVER SINCE MY MOTHER RAISED ME ON STORIES OF YOU TAKING REBIRTH TO DESTROY EVIL ON EARTH. MY MOTHER WAS THE SISTER OF THE GREAT LORD RAVANA, DID YOU KNOW THAT? THAT WAS WHEN MY NAME WAS KALA-NEMI, AND YOUR’S WAS RAMA CHANDRA. I ALSO REGRETTED THE FACT THAT WE NEVER GOT TO CONFRONT ONE ANOTHER FACE TO FACE. FINALLY, I HAVE MY CHANCE AND I INTEND TO MAKE THE BEST OF IT. COME ON, FACE ME NOW. OR STAND ASIDE AND WATCH ME DESTROY YOUR PRECIOUS CITY AND PEOPLE!’
‘So your plan is to fight me and in the process destroy Mathura as well?’
‘YES. BRILLIANT, IS IT NOT? EVEN IF YOU WIN, THE FIGHT WITH ME WILL CAUSE SO MUCH DESTRUCTION THAT I WILL HAVE TRIUMPHED BY DEFAULT. FOR I DON’T CARE A WHIT FOR THESE WRETCHED MORTALS. BUT YOU DO. SO WIN OR LOSE, THEY WILL DIE ANYWAY.’
Krishna sighed. ‘Then you leave me no choice.’
He flew directly at Kamsa.
***
KAMSA cried out in anger as he staggered, the backs of his heels crushing a line of heavily laden carts loaded with weapons for the Imperial Army. Spears and swords snapped and crackled under his giant feet. He snarled and slapped at his own head, swatting at Krishna like a man might swat at a troublesome mosquito. But before he could get hold of him, Krishna had taken hold of Kamsa’s hair and was flying upwards. Kamsa had expected him to attack and fight but instead, all Krishna intended was to take hold of the giant rakshasa and fly him in the one direction where nobody would be injured by Kamsa’s gargantuan size and wicked intent: upwards.
Kamsa roared with fury as he realized what was happening. But Krishna was already lifting him bodily up in the air, rising higher and higher. Kamsa’s feet flailed as they left the ground, narrowly missing striking a building. Crowds roared below as tens of thousands of Mathurans turned their faces upwards, watching the battle with rapt attention, less afraid for their own lives as eager to witness the fight for which they had waited 23 long years.
Kamsa continued to swat at his head. But it was near impossible for any man to strike the top of his own head while being carried upwards. Still, he struggled and flailed mightily. It was only when he was several hundred yards up in the air and still rising that he stopped flailing and froze still.
Krishna sensed understanding flood through his giant brain.
‘I SEE NOW WHAT YOU MEAN TO DO! BUT YOU CANNOT. YOU MUST NOT. I WILL NOT LET YOU DO IT. I WANT A
FIGHT. I WANT THE BATTLE I DESERVE. I WILL NOT BE DROPPED DOWN LIKE A RAW EGG TO BREAK ON THE EARTH. I WANT MY FAIR DUE IN BATTLE. FIGHT ME, VISHNU. PUT ME BACK DOWN AND FIGHT ME FACE TO FACE.’
Krishna said grimly, ‘Uncle, you lost your right to a fair fight when you slew newborns by dashing their brains out. You lost it when you ordered the execution of thousands more innocent children. You lost the right when you committed a hundred thousand other atrocities over the past 23 years, not to mention those you had committed even before revealing your true rakshasa nature. Back on the field, there was a moment when you could have attacked me and had your chance at a fair fight. You failed to take it. Now, this is the only fight you get. It is the only one you deserve.’
‘NO, KRISHNA, NO,’ Kamsa cried, bellowing loud enough to be heard by all Mathura. ‘YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME. I AM A WARRIOR AND SO ARE YOU. FIGHT ME LIKE A WARRIOR FACE TO FACE. IT IS MY RIGHT. AND IT IS YOUR DHARMA.’
‘I am a warrior, yes,’ Krishna said sadly. ‘That is the only reason why I had to wait this long and allow so many other innocents to suffer and die before facing you today in combat. If I was not a warrior and not bound by kshatriya dharma, I would have crept into your palace as a babe and slaughtered you as you slept. But this is as far as my dharma will allow me to bring you. To this certain death. It is the only way you deserve, the only end for one such as you. Just as a mad elephant or beast must be put down instantly, without hesitation or thought, so must your life be ended now. If you have any last words, speak them now, before I release my hold on your body and let it fall to its death on the earth below.’