“ Eight days after a full moon day, when the Gods celebrate the birth of one of their own , you shall meet a worthy foe. In Him , you will see your failures and your wrong doings . To Him , you shall surrender and bend down – out of respect and  fear. Fear that he will vanquish you . He will be a force so powerful that he can conquer a thousand elephants. And you shall be reduced to mere dust – a fragment of your existence .” 

There were not many things that befuddled me. Did I tell you who I am ?  I am the great warrior – the conqueror of conquerors , the king of kings . A prophecy will lead to my downfall ?  Macbeth may have fallen to the clairvoyance of witches , but not all kings are Macbeths and not all prophecies will come true. “Sire, Kamsa the King was slayed too. A prophecy came to life ” . I used to like my court adviser till that day.He was my eyes in places where my vision failed me. He was my ears around the empire where people badmouthed their own siblings . He dares to disrespect a king and allude his downfall?  Put the bastard behind bars. I was not a tyrant though , not by any stretch of imagination .

The funny thing about all these prophecies are, you either believe it or you don’t. However if you are the one, the prophecy is about, restless nights will certainly ensue. It’s been almost a year since he had spoken those words. It had been buried deep within my mind, behind my memories , behind some embarrassing incidents that no one in his right mind will speak of. Over the last 336 days, I slayed them all , like how a butcher does. I did not spare anyone in my vicinity – I killed them all . The Danish , the Spainards , the  Mughals and even the lazy Maharaja of Krishnapur who can’t even kill a hen for lunch , let alone kill an emperor .Except for the white haired bastard who evaded me every time I tried to conquer him .Was he the one, the prophecy was talking about?  Every full moon day, I sacrificed a goat to the temple as the priest had asked me to. It would give me a longer life , he said. Perhaps it was the goat’s blood that was making me live in spite of the opium that has filled my lungs since childhood.

The old man had predicted that if I live past the said day, I would live on for one hundred years. The entire world would be at my feet and I would be worshiped like how a God should be worshiped. Every fortnight,  the entire empire gathered.Children, dying men, women, whores, witches got together at the field to witness massacre. Yes, you saw it correct. Murder. My thirst for blood was not as much as Aurangazeb’s , but I had my own system in place to punish the scoundrels and traitors.  Thirty two handpicked prisoners played chess for me, while I called shots sitting atop my well protected terrace. The surviving players walked away free . Free to live , only to be summoned fifteen days later for another game.  Fifteen days had passed since the last game and today  the entire empire would come together. The coincidence was far too obvious to ignore.  The breakfast arrived in my bed . Before I put my lips to the food, three people taste it. Just to make sure, it is not poisoned. A man who lives in fear of death dies a thousand times and today, just for today I was a walking example to prove that. I summoned my cook and asked him to eat the food from my plate. “Maharaja. From yours?”. ” Yes.” As the food made its way through his throat,  he gasped for breath. With a horrified look on his face, he fell down to the floor clutching his throat , spitting out food. “I didn’t do it. I promise Maharaja. I did not. ” . And he died. I made my way to the prison cell where my adviser was housed. What is so special about today, Dhruva ? “Oh today is the eighth day after full moon in the month of Shravan – Lord Krishna’s birthday ”

                                                                                                                                      …………………………….. to be contd.

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