The stage is set for another leela of Bhagwaan Vishnu, where all the gods and goddesses play a significant role. Now starts the saga where heartbreaking curses, graceful boons and divine mercy combine to write a history to be remembered through the...
The resounding crack of stone shattering reverberated through Mathura's core, as the soldiers defiantly hoisted their hammers and chisels. With unwavering determination, they relentlessly chipped away at the once magnificent statue of Rameshwari.
This awe-inspiring masterpiece had been erected in ancient times by Shatrughan, as a profound homage to the visionary who resurrected the very foundations of Mathura. But its once pristine form, meticulously crafted by skilled hands, now bore the scars of this merciless assault.
"Yeh anarth na karo !"
The people, desperate to save their beloved goddess, surged forward, their cries of protest drowning out the clanging of metal. They clung to the base of the statue, weeping and pleading with the soldiers to stop.
"DUR HATO ! MAHARAJ KAMSA KI AAGYA HAI !"
But the soldiers, cold and unyielding, pushed them back with brutal force, their weapons lashing out at anyone who dared to resist. Blood was spilled as the people were beaten and dragged away from the statue.
Finally, with a resounding crack that reverberated through the air, the statue of Rameshwari began to crumble, pieces of stone falling to the ground with a deafening crash. The people watched in horror, their hearts breaking with each blow.
Some of them tried to catch the falling fragments, holding them close to their chests as tears streamed down their faces. The air was thick with sorrow and despair as the once proud statue lay in ruins, a shadow of its former glory.
The people, overcome with despair, sank to their knees, clutching the broken remnants of their beloved goddess to their chests. Their sorrowful sobs filled the atmosphere, a haunting melody of loss and devastation.
On the other side of the city, the once vibrant and bustling temples of Narayan now stood eerily silent as soldiers hammered the doors shut, sealing off the sacred spaces. Devotees, young and old, gathered outside the temples, tears streaming down their faces as they pleaded with the soldiers to reconsider.
But their cries fell on deaf ears as the soldiers, under the command of King Kamsa, showed no mercy. The air was thick with fear and despair as the devotees watched helplessly, their hands clasped in prayer, as the soldiers began to drag them away.
The sound of whips cracking and screams of pain echoed through the streets as the devotees were brutally beaten for their faith. The elderly were not spared, and even the children are not exempt from the savage beatings.
The once peaceful and sacred temples are now filled with the sounds of agony and despair. The devotees, with tears streaming down their faces, continue to pray for deliverance, but their cries are drowned out by the cruel laughter of the soldiers.
The sound of chaos echoed even through the palace as Akrur and Satyak rushed towards the throne room, their hearts pounding with anticipation. As they burst through the doors, their eyes widened in shock at the sight before them.
Several palace guards and servants were furiously tearing at the grand idol behind the statue of Akhand Maharani, causing it to crumble and crack under their relentless assault. Akrur and Satyak could hardly believe their eyes as they watched the destruction unfold before them.
"Yeh kaisa anarth kar rahe ho !?" Akrur exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief.
The servant looked at him, and with lowered gaze said with a voice filled with guilt, "Maharaj Kamsa ki aagya hai ki Akhand Maharani ki pratima tod di jaaye."
Satyak looked on in horror, unable to comprehend the senseless destruction taking place before them.
"Parantu kyu ?" He asked.
"Maharaj Akhand Maharani ki satta ko thukrate hai." The servant informed.
Akrur and Satyak were appalled by the king's blatant disrespect for the goddess and the traditions of their kingdom. They exchanged a knowing look, silently acknowledging the dangerous path that the new king was leading their kingdom down.
"Danapati Akrur !" A noble man rushed inside.
Akrur turned and saw the eldest son of Hridika coming towards him, "Kya huya Kritvarma ?"
"Nagar ke chaurahe par jo Rameshwari ki praachin murti thi, Kamsa ne use tudwane ka aadesh de diya hai ! Woh uske sthaan par swayam ki pratima sthaapit karna chaahta hai." Kritvarma said.
"Kya !?" Satyak exclaimed, "Woh murti toh swayam Shatrughan ne sthaapit ki thi !"
"Keval itna hi nahi." Another valiant minister named Viprithu came towards them.
"Ab kya huya ?" Akrur asked.
Viprithu lowered his gaze, "Kamsa ne.... Bhagwaan Vishnu ki puja par bandh laga diya hai. Pratyek Vishnubhakt ko dand diya jaa raha hai."
"Hey Ishwar, kya ab bhakt apne bhagwaan ki aradhna bhi nahi kar sakte ?" Satyak was outraged and could not comprehend why Kamsa would order such a sacrilegious act.
Akrur looked around and then in a voice barely above a whisper said, "Vishaye gambhir hai, humare vishwas paatra wale sabhi mantriyo aur saamanto ko le, Yamuna ke tat ke paas aaj raatri ekatrit ho."
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Itihaas saakshi hai ki tyrannt chaahe ho bhi raha ho.... Sabne mandir aur murtiya hi todi hai 🙃
Anyway, Kritvarma makes an entrance 🌝✨ For some reason I believed Kritvarma was young, like the same age as Krishna and Satyaki.... But turns out that he was one of the ministers of Kamsa next to Akrur, Satyak, Viprithu etc-💀
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