The greatest epic all the time.... THE MAHABHARATA is full of characters, character related emotions, separate stories and moreover one of the finest saga of the DIVINE INTERVENTION by the Lord of three Worlds. HE CAME TO THIS EARTH TO SHOW THAT A M...
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The sun glares down upon the thick cobblestone walls, leaving stark, vividshadows contrasting with the blinding bright reflections. The spikedshadows of the portcullis loom like the twisted teeth of some fell beast. Ahorse nickers in the stables, and the air suddenly acquires a musty, dampsmell, the smell of sweat and heat.A grinding, gravelly road runs straight ahead through a market into atowering stone keep. Tantalising smells waft from the marketplace wherecolourful stalls sellling everything imaginable sit in a confused muddle, agroup of baby birds within their nest, the walls of the castle. The noisefrom the market comes in a sea of sound, starting slowly and building upbefore crashing down. Enticing scents waft between the stalls, maskingthe unsavoury smell of sweat and spice.Rising above the bustle below like four eagles rising on an updraft, fourtowers stand stark against the sunlit sky giving a sense of power andcontrol. Four flags fly high, their crimson contrasting with the blue sky.Through the heavy oak doors of the imposing keep there is a largechamber filled with rows of guards with armour and colours soflamboyant they almost distract your attention from the piles upon pilesof glittering, golden treasure clustered around. The room smells of gold,the hard odour plating your tongue. The light from the teardrop shapedwindows reflects off the treasure at all angles, filling the room with awarm warm, golden, glowing, glimmering light. Coins fall in waterfalls of gold, frozen in the moment. Necklaces swirl through the piles like goldplated snakes, gems like flowers add colour among golden hills.Ceremonial swords and armour poke out of the piles occasionally,protruding at odd angles. Finally at the end of the hall, upon a squared,padded, high-backed throne, robes glistening, rings glittering, crowngleaming, there sat a king.
Night falls heavy and black upon the thick, cracked cobblestone walls likea cold, damp, black blanket. The old portcullis, once imposing hangs nowrusted and dull. The vestiges of a stables stand rotten and disused,tarnished leather saddles lie propped against the decayed fragments of awall. The smell of the night air is clean and fresh.A thin grey-stoned path, formerly a grinding, gravelly road, runs straightahead through an empty courtyard into a towering stone keep. All aroundthere are spiderwebs of cracks in the walls, with chunky pieces missinghere and there. Metallic gouges have been etched into the walls by theleaden-tipped bolts of ballistae, in a forgotten war, aeons past. Ancientarrowheads litter the courtyard like rust red flowers on a field of grey.Notched sword blades lie askew, their edges rent and torn, their mighteroded by the passing of time. The courtyard smells of rust and decay, afungus-like smell permeating the air and clogging the nose, itsmalodourous stench conjuring up images of rotten flesh.The stumps of four once tall towers lie low maimed and forlorn, therotten remnants of four flags flutter like rags in the breeze, the senso of loss is subtle yet profound.Through the perished oak doors of the scarred, looming keep there is alarge chamber scattered with a few relics of rusted armour andceremonial swords, a smattering of tainted coins, several silver necklacesand some small, shiny gems. Finally at the end of the hall upon a squared,high-backed throne, robes rotten, rings dull, dismal crown lying low on hisbrow, sat the hallowed bones of an ancient king.
