I died an old man. But they don''t remember


    that. I lived to see my people fighting and


    baying for each other''s blood. Gandhari''s


    words had haunted me since the moment


    they had been uttered. For thirty-six years, I


    waited for what I knew was the beginning of


    the end.


    Dwarka prospered economically. And with


    its rise, its people grew smaller. They drank


    Madeira and walked the streets of the city


    swaying and lurching, intoxicated to a point


    where they were lost to reason, etiquette, or


    basic human decency. They forgot how to


    treat the learned with respect. They forgot


    the necessities of showing affection. As the


    coffers overflowed in abundance, their hearts


    were depleted of all good emotion. Jealousy,


    rage, and other baser instincts took over.


    Infighting, insurgency, rebellions were


    ravaging the golden city of Dwaraka. For all


    my political acumen, my wile, I was unable


    to control my clan. They seemed to have


    been led astray, pulled in different directions,


    by a force I could not control. I knew what


    was to take place, but I could not let it


    happen without attempting to restore order


    and quell the storm of madness that seemed


    to hold every person on Dwarka in a vice-


    like grip.


    I decided to take my people with me to the


    Prabhas Sea. The confluence of three rivers


    that flow into the immense sea of the west.


    The waters might be able to do what I could


    not, cool down my people so that they began


    to see again. Prabhas Patan was often called


    the gateway to heaven. A holy place where


    one could absolve oneself of all sin.


    I did not believe in sin. Sinning, sainthood


    were both two sides of the same coin. It did


    not matter whether I sinned or practiced


    righteousness. Every action, every decision,


    came with a consequence. I was ready to


    accept the consequences of my choices. I


    would have preferred that my people did not


    have to suffer in the way they did, so I took


    them to Prabhas.


    Even in those beautiful, blissful environs


    steeped in the aura of those who came


    seeking moksha, the Vrishni could not find


    peace. Maybe the Prabhas did cleanse all


    mortals, and the purified soul moved on


    while all the filth was left behind, invisible to


    the human eye but dissolved in the waters,


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.the sands, the reeds that grew along the


    banks.


    As I stood there at the banks of Prabhas, a


    sense of discomfort plagued me, a sense of


    foreboding of what was to come. Behind me,


    a fight had broken out my son Pradyumna


    born of Rukmini, Satyaki, a once valiant


    warrior now reeking of Madeira, and a bunch


    of other men who had taken part in the


    Mahabharata thirty-six years ago. One of


    them ran his sword through Pradyumna, and


    I saw Pradyumna fall into the tall reeds, his


    face dazed and confused, my son died in


    front of my eyes, and all I did was watch it


    happen. I was a God, and they a man whose


    face I do not remember stabbed my son with


    a piece of iron.


    Enraged, I pulled a spear that had been stuck


    into the earth by some forgotten soul ages


    ago and threw it in wrathful vengeance at the


    unnamed, faceless being impaling him on the


    ground. The wood of the spear was mossy


    green. I stared in rage at these fools engaged


    in a pointless random bloodthirst, and I knew


    it was time for me to walk away from all of


    it.


    Dau had come with us to Prabhas, but I could


    not see him in the crazed maniacal beasts


    that were killing each other all around me. I


    had seen him head towards the thicket


    towards the east a little while ago. I walked


    in search of Dau, leaving the Vrishni behind.


    As I entered the forest, I was pulled towards


    the clearing. I could see a little ahead, upon


    reaching which I saw my brother seated like


    a yogi, lost in a trance. My brother had been


    a bull, raging for a fight, quick to anger, easy


    to please. I was the sly one who charmed my


    way through life. Dau seated in the lotus


    position like a sage was my signal to leave. I


    stood there looking over Dau until the sun


    was in the west. I saw a shadow move away


    from Dau, slithering into the earth, a snake-


    like thing, huge, shiny, five-headed. It might


    have been the trees and the setting sun


    playing with my sight. It might have been the


    essence of Sheshnag. The mighty serpent


    leaving the physical form of the man who


    devoted his whole life to me.


    I walked away from Dau to a banyan tree I


    had crossed on the way and lay down to rest,


    closing my eyes to the world.


    They will tell you a hunter shot an arrow at


    my toe, mistaking it for a deer''s eye. Others


    will say I was sitting in the branches of the


    tree swinging my feet, and the hunter


    confused my feet with a pigeon he wished to


    kill. It does not matter why the hunter shot


    that arrow. It never does. It was time for me


    to leave. I closed my eyes to this world and


    opened them where Radha waited for me.