Suheldev & the Battle of Bahraich (Indic Chronicles #1)

by Amish Tripathi

Ashvaghosh sighed ruefully and entered the hall. Three storeys high, it was the tallest building in the complex. It was dominated by a huge statue of a seated Buddha, itself almost two storeys high, placed at the far end. The walls were completely covered with elaborate, colourful murals depicting various scenes from the life of the Buddha. No matter how many times he entered the room, the majesty of the statue and the beauty of the murals left Ashvaghosh awestruck.

His burning angvastram had fallen just a little behind him. ‘Buddham Sharanam Gachchami.’ I go to the feet of the great Buddha. The sweeping wind fanned the flames of the monk’s saffron angvastram further. Till it rose high and caught his dhoti. The fire lapped up and singed the monk’s legs. But he remained stationary. Calm. ‘Buddham Sharanam … Gachchami.’ The cruel wind did not die down. It kept fanning the flames with fresh bouts of oxygen. The flames burnt brighter still. The sickening smell of burning

flesh began to fill the air. Chandrakirti’s chanting grew louder. But his face remained calm. His eyes shut. His being detached from the pain tormenting his body. His soul focused on Lord Gautam Buddha, the great proponent of non-violence, peace and compassion. ‘Buddham … Sharanam … Gachchami.’ The thin outer layer of his skin began to fry and

slowly peel away in some places. Even as the blaze intensified, the abbot’s face remained calm. ‘Buddham … Sharanam …’ His trembling voice showed the obvious struggle of his body. His tranquil face showed the magnificent serenity of his soul. ‘ … Gachchami …’ The soldiers stared at him, initially horrified, and then with increasing fascination. Some of them fell to their knees, tears streaming down their faces as they witnessed Chandrakirti’s supreme courage, dignity and obvious spiritual power, in the midst of a horrific death. They remembered the religion they had followed till just a few years ago. They remembered this chant only too well. For these Turks had also, once, chanted the same words of peace and love. Words they had been told to forget. Words that they had been told were those of ‘evil idol-worshippers’. The spell was broken by a loud command. ‘Archers, cut him down.’ ‘Buddham …’ Seconds later, a volley of arrows ripped into the abbot’s body, sending him toppling backwards. … Sharana...

People can’t do without them when carcasses have to be cleared and leather goods have to be made. But they don’t want these people around … So they have to live by themselves … Easy targets for invaders … And … despite all their suffering, they were the kindest, most generous people I have ever met

‘Rain!’ exulted Suheldev, with childlike delight.

‘I have always believed that we need to encourage more women to join our armies. Our ancient militaries had many women warriors. They too have the same beating, patriotic heart that the menfolk have. Why should they not have the opportunity to defend our motherland?

Bharatha Thaai Vaazhga. Long live our Mother India.

Everyone has to die sometime. But only a few are blessed with a meaningful death. A death about which songs would be written.

Everyone in the Shravasti inner council was shocked to hear that the Kannauj prime minister had been an ally of Suheldev and had been secretly helping the king in his patriotic struggle. Kashinath had not been aware of it. Nor had Toshani, Abdul, or Govardhan, his closest aides. Suheldev could really keep secrets buried deep in his heart. One of the qualities of a good leader.

There’s no end to wishful thinking,’

This is where the future of India will be decided. Help us, Lord Shiva. Bless us with victory. Take my life, if you must. But bless us with victory.

For true warriors never want to be wished with a long life. All they want is victory. Only victory.

We received a message from that barbarian Turk, Salar Maqsud of Ghazni.’ Shouts of anger and boos echoed from the soldiers. Hatred for that cursed name was at its peak. Suheldev raised his arm and they fell silent. ‘He told us that, apparently, all land on earth belongs to his God. And since he is a representative of his God, he has come to claim ownership of his property. He ordered us to surrender!’ The rage against the Turks erupted once again. With soldiers screaming curses at Maqsud. They fell silent, once again, at a signal from Suheldev. ‘I have just sent him a message, that in India, the earth itself is divine!’ The soldiers listened intently. Suheldev raised his voice, his words ringing in every ear. ‘How dare he claim to own Mother India?! Nobody owns Mother India! Mother India owns us!’ Roars erupted from the warriors. The warriors of Mother India. ‘If he doesn’t understand that, we will make him speak to Mother India! We will go to Bahraich! We will kill every single one of those Turks! We will behead that bastard Salar Maqsud! We will bury them all in the soil of Mother India! Then they can talk to Her!’ ‘Jai Maa Bhaarati!’ bellowed Toshani, Abdul and Govardhan. ‘Jai Maa Bhaarati!’ thundered the army. ‘Jai Maa Bhaarati!’ ‘Jai Maa Bhaarati!

I believe that what exists in India is precious. It’s the only land, in this age of anger, where different religious groups live peacefully with each other. It’s the only land where Shia and Sunni Muslims live in relative peace with each other. It’s the only land where one can worship all truths, all Gods, and have nobody judge you. India needs to survive. Not just for the good of Islam or Hinduism, but for the good of humanity.’ Aslan looked into Suheldev’s eyes. ‘And you, great king, are the only one in North India who is capable of leading a fight against the rampaging Turkic horde. That is why I must support you. For I had been searching for someone like you.

Suheldev opened his hand and spread the holy earth across his forehead. Then he signalled for silence. His soldiers obeyed. ‘A thousand years from now, poets will compose songs of this day … A thousand years from now, the best bards in the land will write stories of this day … A thousand years from now, Indians will stop what they are doing and listen in wonder to the brave legends that were formed today … They will believe that mythic warriors arose from the bosom of Mother India to defend her from the most brutal killers in human history!

The army was deathly silent. ‘Those Indians of a thousand years from now, will stand in awe of their ancestors, who fought like Gods to defend freedom. They will stand in awe of you. They will stand in awe of the legendary warriors who fought and won the Battle of Bahraich.’ The soldiers stood tall, their backs straight, their shoulders back, their spirits strong.

Govardhan reached over and hugged Suheldev. ‘May Lord Ram guide us to victory,’ he said. Then he turned to Toshani and clasped her hand. ‘Give them hell, brave lady!

A boy who looked like he had barely entered his teens was holding the flag of Shravasti.

‘Hold that flag up high, boy. Let all our soldiers see it,’ ordered Suheldev.