The Light from the East

2

Bamiyan, Afghanistan

It was evening when Burak regained consciousness. He was at Wazir’s house. As he tried to sit, Wazir helped him straighten-up and recline on the pillows behind him.

“Thank god, you are fine!” Wazir said, as he sat back on chair beside the bed.

“He is great!” Burak replied.

“Perhaps, not for six thousand other people who couldn’t make it to their homes.” Wazir had a remorseful look on his face.

“…including the young guy who wanted to travel to Istanbul…” Burak added. He had a look of contemplation. His life was shaken. For a moment he had felt as if it was the apocalypse.

“Who did it?” Burak asked.

Wazir still had the remorseful look. He thought for a moment and answered. “You never know who could it be. Maybe the Chinese, Russians. Maybe, the Indians or the Arabs. Maybe the Iranians or the Jews. It could be the Americans or the Europeans. It could be anyone.”

“But why would anyone do it?” Burak seemed confused.

Wazir gave a slight smile. “It is a tough question to answer.” He moved toward the window and looked out at the Khanzada Street below, as he continued. “This country has a turbulent past. If you want to know the roots of the blast, you would have to know what happened here is last 4000 years. Only then can you make sense of it.”

Burak nodded in affirmation, but quietly, he had made up his mind to meet his friend Yasser Yazdi, the librarian of the Farsi University.

The Farsi Library, Bamiyan

Next day

Burak reached the University library early in the morning. Yasser listened to his request. He thoughtfully browsed through the catalogue, and answered. “Mr. Burak, we have a great collection here, but none of the books is in Turkish.”

“How would I get one then?” Burak asked.

Yasser smiled.

“Dr. Ahmed Mujeeb.” He said. “He is the head of History at Punjab University at Lahore. The department has a great collection of History books in Turkish.  As far as I know, there is a history course on Afghan history with Turkish option.”

“Great!” Burak smiled. “Where is Punjab University?”

“In India.” Yasser answered. “ I know the chief librarian Mr. Ravi Verma really well. I can talk to him for the course if you like.”

Burak smiled…..

By next week he was ready to move to India. Wazir Khan funded him for the course and stay.

Chapter 3: The Turbulence

Special Courts

Shepherd’s Bush, Greater London

William McGregor was one of the greatest names in criminal law in England. His law firm Malcolm Associates based out of Edinburgh had become one of the largest law firms west of Bosporus. He himself was an advocate in many major courts in Britain, Europe and America.

The rumor had it, that the Scotland Yard paid him a huge sum for taking up the Dawson case. Both the Scotland Yard and Malcolm Associates declined this. However, the media kept getting regular ‘inputs from confidential sources’ that some people placed at high levels in the Scotland Yard, mentored by people in the government, were wielding both influence, and the people’s money for this case. Even though the denial game continued, it was clear to all that what initially seemed to be an ‘open and shut’ case had kept on lingering unduly and had lately begun complicating.

The latest complication was the petition that Deborah be allowed to visit Portugal as the ‘God’ commanded this by scribbling words ‘clues are in Fatima’ on her back during the episode of ‘stigmata’.

“Milord! The video could be edited.” McGregor said.

“Kiddish.” A voice came from the jury. “It was sent real time.”

“William, what do you want to prove? Has the standard of legal practice has declined so much that a lawyer of your standing gives us these senseless statements?” One of the judges said furiously.

“I’m sorry milord!” McGregor said, rather ashamed.

“Anything else you want to say or ask, William?” The judge asked.

“Sir! My only point is, that I want to confirm that this was a stigma. I have the doctor’s reports of her normal mental status immediately after the episode and a testimony that her wounds miraculously healed on application of the holy water, however, I want to confirm that it is a word of the God. Ms. Dawson is a catholic. I want the Catholic Church to confirm that this was an episode of stigmata. How can we otherwise rely on what is just a supposition and give the verdict.” McGregor came out, rather triumphantly.

The jury nodded in affirmation. McGregor had started doing his job well.

“Further, milords! The ‘message’ does not in any way make it compulsive for Ms. Dawson to travel to Portugal. It just says that the clues are Fatima. Why does the defense want Ms. Dawson to leave the country?” McGregor added.

The jury nodded once again in affirmation.

“Does the defense have anything to say?” The judge asked.

Thomas got up.

“Milords! The persecution should note that the bench itself represents the Anglican Church.”

“Objection Milord!” McGregor jumped up at once” Offensive, coercive.”

“Sustained.” The judge said. “Mr. Thomas, please make relevant statements.”

“Sir! I want to plead that the certificate of the Anglican Church be accepted for this.” Thomas said.

“…so that the defense may influence the decision of the church?” 

McGregor jumped up again.

“Please stop Mr. William; you would be given enough time to speak.” The judge said.  

McGregor apologized and sat down.

“Defense.” One of the judges said. “You may proceed.”

“Milord! I also want to state that the clues in the message were for Ms. Dawson, so she is the one who is expected to find them in Portugal.” Thomas submitted. “That’s all I want to say Milord’s!”

“Does the persecution have anything to say?” The judge asked.

McGregor stood up and said, “Milord I just want my concern about the possibility of the defense influencing the Anglican Church in its decision be kept in record.”

He sat down.

The judges discussed for a while and then pronounced.

“The petition was to allow Ms. Dawson to travel to Portugal as the message directs her to travel. However there is no such direction in the message. If the defense wants to plead on some other grounds they can put up another petition. The persecution can also put up a petition of request of certificate from the Catholic Church. 

The present petition stands rejected.”   

Deborah and Thomas

2

London, England 

“He was my uncle! I don’t know what you are talking about?” She protested sitting on the chair in the glass chamber.

“You mean to say that you weren’t there?” The officer asked.

“Of course, I wasn’t.”

“Then where were you?”

“At my home. I was sleeping at the time you are talking about.”

“Yes, that’s what most of the people do at that hour.”

“True.”

“Yes, True. That’s why most of the criminals use the night to work.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” She was irritated.

“Its just a matter of fact. Just discussing about some obvious correlations.”

“That isn’t what you are trained for, are you? Discussing correlations.”

“Hah! Witty Ms. Dawson.  I see that you are quite alert and free from stress. Not a very usual thing to see when someone is sitting on this seat. Well, there are always exceptions, but then another strange correlation is that most of those exceptions are seasoned criminals.”

Deborah didn’t speak anything in return.

“What about the cameras madam?”

“What about them?” Deborah asked.

“They tell us that you never came home.”

“They tell you that my car didn’t come home.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. Yes, that’s what it means.” The officer said.

“Because I came back with my friend. My car broke down. Its still at the services.”

“Ok…”

“So was it your first time with your uncle?” He suddenly changed the topic.

“You are offending me officer.” She cried.

“Ok. I’ll re phrase. Did you ever have any sexual relation with your uncle?”

Outside the glass box, the jury observed and heard the proceedings. The heart rate increased, so did the blood pressure. The Pulse oxymeter showed high values.

“No.” She answered.

The doctor of the court was watching the proceedings closely. He turned towards the jury and announced -

“She might be lying. She might have got offended as well. This can’t be confirmatory. Regarding the earlier part – she told the absolute truth.” 

“Thanks Ms. Dawson. You can hire a lawyer to defend yourself. If you won’t, the court would hire one for you.” The officer said. “For now, you are put on house arrest. The court will let you know the next date for hearing and the site.”

He turned away and left the glass chamber. The jury dispersed the court.

Lambeth Palace

“Father, this news moves me. There is something in my heart that compels me to go to Harrow – to her place.” He said, keeping the newspaper on the table and picking up the cup of tea.

Thomas was a young induct in the church. His study in law found an outlet in making official papers for the Archbishop of Canterbury. He was the assistant to the archbishop. However, he was also deeply interested in politics and news. The case of murder of Mr. Dawson attracted him particularly.

This morning he had sought an appointment with the Archbishop to discuss a personal matter.

“How would you justify it, son?” the bishop asked. He had the usual calmness in his voice, but his face seemed faintly anxious.

“Deborah Dawson has sought special permission from the court only for one thing.”

“…and what’s that?” archbishop asked.

“…to attend the Sunday mass at the church.”

It led to a semi – involuntary raise in the eyebrow of the Archbishop, but he suddenly normalized his expressions and smiled calmly saying –

“Seems like a good way to improve her image in the public.”

“She has been visiting the church every week. She knows all the nuns well. The church itself has given her a letter of approval which she produced to the court.”

“Hmmm….” archbishop said in a reflective mood. “That certainly strengthens your case.”

Father, I have been opening the page from the holy Bible since yesterday. Every time I open, it comes to the same passage. Pray, open a page for me sir.”

The Archbishop picked up the holy bible. Prayed on it and opened. As he moved his lips to read the passage, his eyes could only have recognized the first word, when Thomas repeated the whole passage before him.

But Jesus, answering, said to him, “Allow

it now, for this is the fitting way for us to fulfill all righteousness.”

Matthew 3:15

The Archbishop looked at Thomas, kept the book aside and said:

“Draft the letter and get it typed from the clerk. I’ll sign it for you.”

Ch.2 Coming of the Sages

Chapter 2

Coming of the Sages

1

The Himalayas, India

The foundation had been laid more than three hundred years back. Destruction was initiated by destruction. In just one night, everything except the shrine of Kedarnath was washed away. The northern pilgrimage was stopped. It took four years to revive it. On the very first day of the pilgrimage, there was a huge earthquake. All the pilgrims died. There were huge landslides. Approach to the shrine was destroyed. Only the shrine remained unaffected. Next year, there was huge seismic activity in the area which culminated in a great volcanic eruption which is now known as Mount Bhaskara as its lava seemed as a perpetual rising sun at its top. The pilgrimage was permanently stopped and the area was rendered inaccessible by the human beings. The Hindus cried at the loss.

The area – came to be known as the Hamavant in the religious circles and soon found favor with the recluses, ascetics and spiritualists. The stories of its unparalleled wild beauty, its sweet and unpolluted streams, and its crystal lakes, the ladies of the forest, the mermaids and the celestial nymphs entered the religious folklore with the wandering ascetics. It was so inaccessible and so impermeable by human beings that it came to be believed as the land of the pure – where no soul entangled in material longings could enter. The Government of India tried to make it accessible once again, but every time it tried to do so; some natural calamity would bring all the work to a rumble. The adventurers, who tried sneaking in, were either stalled or annihilated. The only ones who could enter, or at least claimed to, were the sages – who were said to have seen the wonders of the land across the Bhaskara. They talked about a lake of undisturbed water that looked like a mirror kept on land. The celestial nymphs used its waters for washing their tresses – an act that left the water fragrant with their unearthly perfume. Golden lotuses bloomed in that lake and the dust of its pollen that splattered on the river invited drones to feed on them and make a pleasing echo in the air around the lake. The lake was surrounded by beautiful garden full of plants that bore flower and fruits around all the seasons and which were scented with unearthly aromas. Various birds and wild animals lived in those gardens. The sounds of the birds and the animals gave the whole scene a magical and melodious voice. With fresh flowing air, soft green grass and crystal clear water – the whole area was no less than a paradise. The ascetics called it Devamandapam – the alter of the gods. No one knew if it actually existed or not.

 

 He had emerged from the river-bed at the Yamnotri four days back. He had always heard that entering the Hamavant was a second life to the ascetic. It had actually been a similar experience. He had thought that he would starve for air, just at the time when the surface of water started appearing to him. Then an old temple appeared to him, with red flags on its summit, and beyond it – endless white glaciers. He moved westward across the mountains, when after four days he came across a landscape that he had heard of since his childhood – the valley of flowers. There it lay in front of him, stretching in its full bloom, filled with bright colors. He moved westward.

“Gorakshak” He heard a voice from the flowers.

He turned around and saw an old ascetic with white flowing hair, white beard and white clothes. His face exuded grace and glow. He stood amidst the blue flowers. Gorakshak stood there with his gaze fixed on him, and then slowly folded his hands and bowed to him.

“How do you know my name, milord?” he asked in a suppressed astonishment.

“Who in the Hamavant doesn’t?” He answered.

“Give me the opportunity to have your introduction, sir.” Gorakshak asked.

“I am the Bhargava, Rama Jamdagneya - the son of Jamdagni.”

Listening to this, Gorakshak immediately fell down on his knees. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he prostrated to the great sage’s feet.

“Lord Parashurama. Praise be unto you milord!” He cried.

Parashurama raised him up with both his hands. A touch of his hands shook him with divine vibrations.

“Get up son. My hermitage is across the mountain in the west. You need some rest.”

Both of them walked towards the west. Parashurama’s aura exuded positive energy all around. It felt like a wave of joy in his heart.

The Frothy Mist

7

Nigambodh Ghat, Delhi, India

  

“Oh! I love this smell of burning flesh.” The ascetic said, breathing a long deep breath.

He had long and flowing white hair - matted, oily and rough - falling down to his waist. His beard flew sideways in flowing wind. Flashes of lightening reflected in his eyeballs and lit his face momentarily – accentuating the wrinkles on his forehead. White ash was smeared all over his body.

“Alas, I would have to part with it.” He had a scornful expression on his face as if someone had done some wrong to him.

His disciples gathered around him. With their hands folded and heads bent down, they listened to him intently.

“I get the signals of change! Smell the flesh.” He said inhaling again. “It rots as it burns. Even the Agni (fire) is unable to contain the rot. When the purifier ceases to purify, it means that it’s the time for change. I feel that others might have sensed it too. They would have started as well. At the end of the era, there would be a meeting amidst destruction in the HimavntMountains of the north. The seven sages would be there and thousands of ascetics. Kripacharya, Parashurama and Lord Hanuman himself shall be there. The meeting shall be chaired by Lord Bharadvaja – the Brihaspatya – the son of none other than Brihaspati: master of the demigods. There we shall get the clarity on what’s coming.”

He repeated the old verses:

Yada yada hi dharmasya, glanir’bhavati’bharata.

Abhyut’thanam hi dharmasya, tvad’atmanam srujamyaham

Paritranaya sadhunam, Vinashaya ch’dushkritam

Dharma’sansthapanarthaya, sambhavami yuge yuge.

Whenever, on the earth the righteousness is shamed – in order to raise the righteousness, I incarnate myself. In order to save the ascetics and destroy the evil – in order to re-establish the cosmic order, I come age after age.

“We are in the darkest age, my pupils. The transition of the order is about to begin. Something new will come out of the dust of the old order, as it was the last time:

Senyur’ubhyor’madhye

…in midst of the armies and in midst of the ages…

The darkness shall soon pass.”

He turned around and walked to the banks of the turbulent Yamuna.  

“How much for an upstream ride on the flooding Yamuna?” he asked the lone rower. He was denied the ride.

“How much for a lost boat?” He asked. The rower smiled.

The ascetic was soon seen with oars, rowing upstream in the wild Yamuna, till he vanished in the frothy mist.

Two Identities

5

London

Just as Deborah turned around to board the tube, she was stopped by a voice. It was calm and deep, but sounded firm

“Richard Hayes, Metropolitan Police.”

She turned around and found herself staring at the identity card of a Met officer.

“Yes”, she said hesitantly.

“Madam, are you Ms. Deborah Dawson?” he asked.

“Yes”, Deborah answered.

“The police has the orders to detain you for questioning on John Dawson murder case. You can read the papers.” The officer handed over some papers to her.

As she read, the expressions of her face changed from confusion, to anger and then to shock.

…..Ms .Deborah Dawson to be detained by the police as a prime suspect in Dawson murder case…..

“This is nonsense. I was…” Deborah protested, but the officer interrupted her in between – “Any statement you make can be used in favor or against you, madam. It would be best if you consult your lawyer in this matter. As for me, I’m just doing my duty.”

Deborah’s face turned pale.

As she left the tube station and entered the police vehicle, there were flashes of lights and sounds of camera clicks. A group of reporters with video cameras had also gathered outside the station. Deborah covered her face with handkerchief. As she sat in the car, Deborah vaguely heard the reporter speaking in the camera-

“…as the Coventry crime bureau have given confirmation that the body fluids found at the crime scene belonged to Ms. Deborah Dawson….”

 The sound died in the vehicle sirens as the car moved on to the road.

6

Bangalore

Each day, Pankaj longed to return to his humble home, but his body had rendered him unable to do so. His driving license, identity card, and passport – all proved that he was Rajat. No one would believe that he wasn’t. He seemed to be living an artificial life. He’d better not lived at all.

It was early morning. As Pankaj returned from jogging and sat for breakfast, he was reminded the days when when he went jogging with Rajat. They would return back to have some tea and cookies. Both of them were still together. His soul and Rajat’s body, but it was so different.

He remembered how awkward it felt when Diya tried to kiss him on the first day. He was still uncomfortable with her. She often told him that he had become a stranger to her..

He visited his home once; Pankaj’s home. His parents and family had adjusted to life without him. He just remained in their background memories, maybe in their subconscious mind, but there was no trace of him in their routine life, except the photograph on the wall. He remembered how his mother had started crying on his first visit. There was an uncomfortable silence as he sat down for the tea. He visited them a couple of times again after that. Last time, his brother escorted him while leaving and quietly told her – “Bhayia, we have moved on. I know you have come to sympathize, but each time you come, it seems that it was just yesterday when Pankaj died. Each time mother keeps crying late till night. The family feels the loss. I don’t want you to feel bad about it, but I want you to let us move on, Bhayiya. It’s a request.”

He looked straight into his brother’s eyes. There was a pain in them. He meant what he said. He broke the contact. Looked down into the ground and nodded his head in affirmation. They shook hands like strangers – formally as if it didn’t mean anything and then he turned around. He kept thinking about everything. That night, when he went home; he hid his face in the pillow and just cried. He never went back to his home again.

He called Itisha one week after the death.

“Hi Itisha, Pankaj.”

There was no response for a minute, but after that there was this rather rude voice – “Rajat, I don’t know if this is to hurt me or you’re making fun of him.” And she snapped off the call. He tried calling again, but she didn’t pick up. After two months of calling and messaging, she finally decided to meet at the Cubbon Parks.

They sat on the bench in the park sipping coke.

“I don’t know what you rich guys feel, but love is not a commodity, Rajat.” She said.

“I know, Rajat…..um..Pankaj, I’m sorry was my closest friend. I feel so much about him…” Rajat said.

There was a silence. She asked “How is Diya?”

“She is fine.”

Silence.

“Well I think I must go.” Itisha said breaking the silence. “I’ve got to take my mother from hospital. She goes there for physiotherapy these days.”

She said goodbye and turned around.

There was a call from her a few months after the meeting. She was getting engaged over the weekend.

 

A few weeks later, Bangalore

“Rajat, I have appointed you as the Chief Manager of our East India project at Kolkata. It would take you away from Bangalore so that you can de-stress. It’s a new project, so you can understand and do better.”

Rajat’s past memory had weakened a lot after the accident in which Pankaj died. Miraculously, he had escaped unhurt. His father was concerned about his health. Rajat couldn’t even recognize people whom the family knew so closely. Whenever he talked to him, there was contempt in his voice and a line across his face.  Sending him to Kolkata might bring a nice change in his life. He would meet new people and make new friends. He would be able to get off the old things.

“What is the project dad?” Rajat asked.

“Our CEO would brief you about it.” He answered. “When do you want to be there?” He asked.

“Tomorrow, maybe!” Rajat answered.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Rajat answered.

A History into the future.

4

Bamiyan, Afghanistan

  

When it came to controversy, or the matters of faith and pride, last three centuries saw a shift of geographical favoritism to the central Asia. Bamiyan had become the Jerusalem of the east. It was hotly contested by various faiths and nations. Its development over the other greater cities of central Asia like Kabul, Samarkand, Tashkent or Kandahar could be chiefly contributed to the symbolic presence or absence of the giant Buddhas there. So intriguing was their effect that every community in the world tried to make its presence felt in Bamiyan; turning it into a mixed and shortly even the most inflammatory city in the world.

The city was initially in control of the Arab s, who built the white mosque with its blue onion dome. Towards the end of the twenty first century the predominantly Shia Iranis captured the city and established a higher centre of Shia spiritual learning that centered on the Farsi Mosque. The Farsi Mosque and the Farsi University still formed an exceedingly Persian majority area of the city. The Persians had the hold on the city for almost 100 years. This led Bamiyan to peace and prosperity. This was the time that a majority of Hindu traders settled in the old city. They still have a strong control over the trade of the city. The Hindu areas of old city were established. It was the Hindus who established the Taksalkhana which still holds a lot of influence over the commercial markets of the region. When the Americans and Jews overran Iran, Bamiyan fell into Jewish hands. The Jews replicated the Temple of the Rock at Bamiyan as the easternmost outpost of their influence and developed it as a seat of the Rabbi of the orient. The Christians were still conspicuous by their absence from the city. It was not till the Russians ousted the Americans and Israelis from the city that the first church was built. It was the Russian Orthodox Church of Jesus the Apostle which was later upgraded to the status of Archdiocese with the reigning Archbishop of Bactria. There was a brief re flourishing of the Buddhists with the coming of the Chinese whom Russians recruited in a large number in order to have a greater control over the city. The Chinese brought back Buddhism with them and reconstructed the lost Buddha of Bamiyan and built the Pagoda to Avalokiteshwara the Bodhisattva.

By the end of the twenty fourth century the Hazars and Pathans from Bamiyan and the surrounding parts of Afghanistan had approached India so that the power could be restored to the natives.

In year 2374, Indian forces crossed the Suleiman and captured the city of Kabul. By the end of the year the united Baloch and Indian forces entered Iran and toppled the western forces at Yazd in the middle of Dasht – e – kavir. By the end of the year two armed groups were marching towards Mazar-e-Sharif. The Chinese forces got no re-enforcements from the Russians.

The Russians, who were always wary of the Chinese had entered into a secret treaty with the Indians at Baku whereby they would not reinforce the Chinese military and let the natives ovetake Mazar –e- Sharif,  and later Bamiyan with the help of Indian forces, if the Indians could ensure that the Christians and the Archdiocese remain safe, and that the Russian companies, and traders were given a special status. In fact they offered help to India in case China starts any military operations on the Indian borders.

By the year 2376, the Chinese had retreated from Afghanishtan and Bamiyan had fallen into combined Indian and Afghan forces. An Indian cantonment was constructed at Bamiyan and two great Indian style mosques were constructed – The Akbari Mosque in the east and Jama Masjid in the south. In the north-eastern corner of the city a new Indian enclave was constructed in the traditional Mandala design and was named Somapuri as Afghanistan was considered the traditional land of the Soma and the temple of Somnath was built – the largest Hindu temple outside of India. This made the religious diversity of the city complete. By the year 2377, the Indian army had moved back and Afghanistan was rendered a republic with Bamiyan having a special status and the Bamiyan Assembly representative of all the communities taking care of its legislature.

The Ritual

In the afternoon, Vibhu handed Rajat over to Rudra. Since then, Rajat and Rudra had been together. Rajat had obediently listened to Rudra all this time. He never tried to escape as other people would have done!

 He somehow had nothing left to live for anymore after Pankaj’s death. Both were together, when his car crashed. He couldn’t overcome the guilt that it all happened due to his negligence.

He ought to have died, not Pankaj! Maybe whatever was happening to him was the way nature corrected its mistakes. This was his redemption.

He, however, told Rudra once while they sat together for lunch – “you are in an illusion brother! You’re on the side of the devil. You will have to suffer.”

Rudra answered back calmly – “you are wrong. You will realize it later.” Rajat never answered back.

Now that they were in the crematorium, things happened in a really traditional way. Rajat was first taken to Pankaj’s cremation table. He was shocked to see that Pankaj’s ashes were there. They were missing when he last saw them in the morning!

Rudra laughed at Rajat’s expressions – “This is the truth, Rajat. What you saw in the morning was an illusion. It was all created by the child you met in the morning. Even that child was an illusion. Here he is! Rajat, meet Vibhu” He said introducing Rajat to a young man standing on the other side of the table.

Rudra continued.” He will be your friend in your afterlife.” Rajat heard what Rudra said, trying to absorb all that was happening around him as Rudra continued, “Now, your main work will be to pick the ashes and mix it with the sacrificial powder.”

Rajat felt spellbound to do as Rudra instructed. He could have run, but he didn’t want to, something had stoppedhis entire thought process. Rajat slowly collected Pankaj’s ashes and mixed it with the sacrificial powder amidst invocations and chants. As the chants continued. Rajat was stripped naked and bathed with honey, milk, water and liquor. He was finally taken to the alter.

Vikas invoked the holy fire of the night and increased it by pouring clarified butter. It was midnight. The fire would go on till sunrise. There were more invocations, more chants and finally the sacrificial offerings started with sacrificial powder mixed in Pankaj’s ashes. Each offering had an explosive effect on the fire.

As the darkness deepened, Vikas stood up and amidst invocations, took a sickle shaped sword, and ran towards Rajat. In a single blow, he decapitated Rajat entirely. Rajat's head toppled off his body and rolled over near the pit of sacrificial fire. Blood poured out of his throat and soaked his whole body red. Rudra and others started the dismemberment of his limbs quickly afterwards.