the treaty.’
He gave the command to break camp and return to Mathura. His soldiers obeyed with evident relief, glancing back with fearful respect at the uks cart as they gathered their implements and weapons, and prepared for the journey home. The men spoke in hushed voices of the miracle they had witnessed, of the will of the devas, of the great hand of Vishnu that had protected Vasudeva from Kamsa’s adharmic attack. For Vasudeva’s devotion to dharma was legendary, and while Yama was Lord of Death and Dharma, it was Vishnu, in his many avatars, who was the ultimate upholder of dharma. The Sword of Dharma, as some called him. There were many who whispered that Vasudeva was no less than Vishnu’s amsa on prithviloka, descended to restore dharma on the earth.
A little later, Kamsa’s battalion was riding homewards.
Vasudeva and Akrur sat in the centre of the empty field, scarcely able to believe what they had accomplished.
The last stragglers disappeared from sight, their passing lit by the fading saffron glow of the setting sun.
Vasudeva turned to Akrur.‘When we set out this morning ...’ he began. Then stopped.
Akrur was looking at Vasudeva with brimming eyes. They shone in the sunset like golden orbs. He joined his palms in namaskar and bowed his head. He touched Vasudeva’s feet.
‘My Lord,’ he said,‘forgive me for having doubted you. I did not recognize you in this mortal guise.’
Vasudeva clicked his tongue impatiently. ‘Come now, Akrur. You have known me since we were both boys with snotty noses. I am no amsa of Vishnu. I am merely a mortal man, like you.’
Akrur shook his head. ‘No mortal man could accomplish what I witnessed today.’
Vasudeva nodded.‘I confess I cannot explain how or why this happened. But even so, I would credit this miracle to my conviction in the power of dharma and my belief in ahimsa. I came here determined to convince Kamsa without resorting to violence, and I succeeded. Today’s victory is a triumph of dharma and pacifism.’
‘Whatever name you give to it, Bhaiya, it was a miracle. Call it a miracle of dharma or Vishnu’s hand intervening. Either way, you are a deva among men. Of that, there is no doubt at all.’
Vasudeva smiled ruefully. ‘I am a deva only by name. But if my sense of dharma pleases the gods and helps me serve my people, so be it.’ He looked around at the empty field. ‘At least, I think Kamsa will not come again to these parts to do his wicked work.’
Akrur made a sound of disgust. ‘Rakshasa. The way he butchered his own men! I wish you had killed him.’
Vasudeva had taken the reins from Akrur. He clucked his tongue, driving the uksan forward, starting the journey back home. ‘Had I done so, I would have been no better than he. Nay, Akrur. I think what transpired today was a shining example of the power of peace over the path of violence. Violence only begets more violence. Peace ends violence. Had I slain Kamsa today, his people would still have had just cause in attacking my people again, and yet again, the cycle continuing endlessly. By not raising a weapon or causing anyone harm, I proved my point more effectively than a dozen battles could ever have done.’
‘This is true,’ Akrur acknowledged.‘I do not think we shall see Prince Kamsa again on this side of the river!’ He laughed.‘Who knows, he may even have toretire from warmongering forever. I don’t think his men will follow him with any modicum of respect from now on; what do you say?’
Vasudeva smiled. ‘He might have some difficulty in that regard.’
Their laughter rose above the treetops as the uks cart clattered and rattled down the bumpy path, mingling with the cries of birds seeking their nests for the night. The news they carried back that night would occasion celebrations across the Sura nation, jubilation at the departure of Kamsa and his plundering army and the prevention of what had seemed to be certain war with the Andhakas.
Sadly, they
He gave the command to break camp and return to Mathura. His soldiers obeyed with evident relief, glancing back with fearful respect at the uks cart as they gathered their implements and weapons, and prepared for the journey home. The men spoke in hushed voices of the miracle they had witnessed, of the will of the devas, of the great hand of Vishnu that had protected Vasudeva from Kamsa’s adharmic attack. For Vasudeva’s devotion to dharma was legendary, and while Yama was Lord of Death and Dharma, it was Vishnu, in his many avatars, who was the ultimate upholder of dharma. The Sword of Dharma, as some called him. There were many who whispered that Vasudeva was no less than Vishnu’s amsa on prithviloka, descended to restore dharma on the earth.
A little later, Kamsa’s battalion was riding homewards.
Vasudeva and Akrur sat in the centre of the empty field, scarcely able to believe what they had accomplished.
The last stragglers disappeared from sight, their passing lit by the fading saffron glow of the setting sun.
Vasudeva turned to Akrur.‘When we set out this morning ...’ he began. Then stopped.
Akrur was looking at Vasudeva with brimming eyes. They shone in the sunset like golden orbs. He joined his palms in namaskar and bowed his head. He touched Vasudeva’s feet.
‘My Lord,’ he said,‘forgive me for having doubted you. I did not recognize you in this mortal guise.’
Vasudeva clicked his tongue impatiently. ‘Come now, Akrur. You have known me since we were both boys with snotty noses. I am no amsa of Vishnu. I am merely a mortal man, like you.’
Akrur shook his head. ‘No mortal man could accomplish what I witnessed today.’
Vasudeva nodded.‘I confess I cannot explain how or why this happened. But even so, I would credit this miracle to my conviction in the power of dharma and my belief in ahimsa. I came here determined to convince Kamsa without resorting to violence, and I succeeded. Today’s victory is a triumph of dharma and pacifism.’
‘Whatever name you give to it, Bhaiya, it was a miracle. Call it a miracle of dharma or Vishnu’s hand intervening. Either way, you are a deva among men. Of that, there is no doubt at all.’
Vasudeva smiled ruefully. ‘I am a deva only by name. But if my sense of dharma pleases the gods and helps me serve my people, so be it.’ He looked around at the empty field. ‘At least, I think Kamsa will not come again to these parts to do his wicked work.’
Akrur made a sound of disgust. ‘Rakshasa. The way he butchered his own men! I wish you had killed him.’
Vasudeva had taken the reins from Akrur. He clucked his tongue, driving the uksan forward, starting the journey back home. ‘Had I done so, I would have been no better than he. Nay, Akrur. I think what transpired today was a shining example of the power of peace over the path of violence. Violence only begets more violence. Peace ends violence. Had I slain Kamsa today, his people would still have had just cause in attacking my people again, and yet again, the cycle continuing endlessly. By not raising a weapon or causing anyone harm, I proved my point more effectively than a dozen battles could ever have done.’
‘This is true,’ Akrur acknowledged.‘I do not think we shall see Prince Kamsa again on this side of the river!’ He laughed.‘Who knows, he may even have toretire from warmongering forever. I don’t think his men will follow him with any modicum of respect from now on; what do you say?’
Vasudeva smiled. ‘He might have some difficulty in that regard.’
Their laughter rose above the treetops as the uks cart clattered and rattled down the bumpy path, mingling with the cries of birds seeking their nests for the night. The news they carried back that night would occasion celebrations across the Sura nation, jubilation at the departure of Kamsa and his plundering army and the prevention of what had seemed to be certain war with the Andhakas.
Sadly, they
Similar Books
