The Last Rudra

Chapter 18 - Legend Of Aja



  The last thing Guha remembered was collapsing before his home. But now, that too was slipping out of his consciousness. Everything -his name, his home, his dad, his dying friend Ishit- was fading away, leaving him with nothing but a frightening feeling that he was alone in this vast expanse.

As far as he could sense, he found nothing but himself. As though he had been trapped in his own body. It was a strange place with no light, no darkness, no space, and no time. All he had was the feeling that he existed, but where? He didn't know. 

First, he thought he had died. But he rejected the idea. Though he had never seen any white-wives before, nor had he heard their soul-stirring elegies, he knew they existed, visible to only dying eyes, just like the green lamp of Igbo visible to only an infant's eyes.  He waited for the elusive creatures to come and take him to their fabled city  Nysa. But no one came.

After aeons had gone by, he felt his memories were slowly leaking away. Guha found himself pondering over the foolish question, "Who am I?". Myriads of answers flooded his awareness. Like - he was a girl named Jubi; No, that was not right; he was an old miner working in a mine of moonstones. No, he was a parrot living on the oak tree near the blue river.

Guha couldn't decide who he was. All the answers seemed right to him. He contemplated for a long time and settled on the parrot. 

He thanked Aja for watching over him. He recalled everything. His name was Pinku of the oak tree. He had escaped the strange cage. 

Before his mirthful eyes were the bright day.  Golden sun rays were dancing on the verdant leaves. The morning breeze, scented with the fragrance of flowers, caressed his beautiful wings.

In the east, the big juicy fruit of Aja was rising in the blue sky. He mustn't be late for the orchard, or the evil human wouldn't let him eat anything. The memory of the old bald human left him a little solemn.

Pinku was not always alone, like his grumpy neighbour Panto. He had a beautiful wife, Kaneri. Pinku could still feel her sleek feathers as soft as the silky gown of nymphs simmering in the sun.  Her eyes were shining black, just like her favourite fruits, elderberries. They were so happy together. He could miss the heavenly feast in the starry nest of  Aja for a simple flight with his Kaneri. 

Pinku was sure Kenari's voice could pale even the water nymph that lived in the holy pond. 

He still didn't know why his heart hadn't burst out when the cruel hand of the evil human had stifled the sweetest voice forever.

Pinku felt ashamed of being still alive when his lover was long gone. He felt ashamed for promising Kenari they would love each other like kinnaras of green mountains. If any one of them died, the other would give away their life,  mourning. 

But the vengeance got the better of his love for Kenari. He couldn't die before he avenged her. 

Pinku had no divine power like the blessed ones. But he believed Aja would show him the way. 

"Hey, Brat. Stop daydreaming." Panto's screechy voice broke his stupor." Hurry up, Aja's cherry is already so ripe. I only hope we're not too late." Panto looked in the east worriedly, fluttering his ruffled wings. 

"Sorry, Old Panto." Pinku flew out to join the old parrot." I couldn't get up early today." 

"Save your sorry for later, lad. If this old parrot dies from hunger today, I will make sure you never attend the heavenly feast." said the grumpy Panto as they flew towards the orchard. The only orchard nearby, but it was too claimed by humans as theirs. Panta had told him, in the beginning, it was not like this. Everything was unclaimed -rivers, mountains, trees, and land.  He told him the ancient tale of Aja, the divine father. 

In the days of yore, when Aja was on the mazia. He toiled hard to raise dense forests and draw rivers on the flat earth. He piled stones and soil to form high mountains, and dig ravines. And When he had finished his self-chosen task, he called forth his every offering. The father of every living being addressed his children,

  "O, my children! From today onward, this would be your home. I have arranged everything for your comfort. I have commanded the trees to bear plenty of fruits and the rivers to give your sweet water. The high mountains will be your abodes. So live well. I will watch over you from the starry nest."

Thus after commanding his children, Aja had flown to his starry nest. 

Everyone was happy except humans. They were unsatisfied with Aja's arrangement. Humans enslaved other animals,  cut down the sacred woods of Aja and set fire to the holy forest.

It was said the fire was so fierce that its flame touched the starry nest of Aja and, thus, awakened him from his slumber. 

Startled, the divine father looked down on the blazing mazia. The evil deeds of humans enraged him.  Furious as he was Aja decided to erase these wicked children of his. He opened his third eye. An insatiable fire shot out from his fiery eye, and it started to roast mankind just like they had done with the mute trees. 

Appalled, mankind prostrated before the merciful father, pleading for amnesty.  Aja, the most benevolent, pitied them. After all, not every one of them had harmed others. Some humans called dwiza had stopped their brethren from committing such genocide; a number of them had even sacrificed their lives while doing so. Aja was pleased with them, and he decided to give mankind a second chance. 

But he had learned his lesson. He decided to bestow powers to trees and other animals so they could defend themself. 

Now was the time for humanity to suffer. The holy woods banned humans from entering their land, and so did the ancient mountains. Animals began to hunt for them. The rivers refused to share their water. Soon mankind was on the brink of extinction. 

  Dwizas wailed under the starry sky till their eyes went dry, and their throat went mute.

After 21 days, Aja answered their prayer and bestowed them the power of awakening the spirit. But before leaving,  he warned them not to awaken an evil being. Dwizas didn't dare to disobey the divine father. They took the utmost care to choose the spirit wielders, making sure none of them would misuse the bestowed powers. The world finally saw peace.

However, as every sunny day ends, a storm comes. A fierce war broke out among humans, and the era of Dwizas ended painfully. It was said thousands of nests of Dwizas burned down to ashes, and with them got burned the awakeners.

The royal sceptre fell into the hand of evil humans.  And hus mankind resumed their old ways. They pushed their tertiary forward, claiming woods and orchards as theirs.Only the holy woods, the ancient land of mountains, and a few other places were left untouched, not because humans didn't want them. It was just that they couldn't beguile or defeat their mighty dwellers, like spirit beasts and birds. 

The old parrot sighed as he finished the forgotten tale, staring into the distance. Panto was uncannily knowledgeable and knew the secrets of rain and wind. Though Pinku knew the old man since he was just a fledgling, he had never taken a step to talk to the parrot who seemed to be older than the moon.

Pinku, like others, used to think of him as some freak until two years ago when his Kenari got murdered brutally. In anguish, Pinku foolishly threw himself over the bald human and was just a few breaths away from joining his departed beloved; when the old parrot miraculously grabbed him away from the deathly clutch of the evil human. 

It was Panto who supported him when he was lost in his grief. He told him to wait for his time. The tyranny of mankind would soon come to an end. There was something in the old parrot's voice that gave Pinku hope. A hope of vengeance, a hope to redeem himself for not fulfilling his promise to Kaneri. 

***

The orchard with the sweetest cherries and red pomegranates was on the other side of the blue river, two good parrot-flight away from the oak tree where Pinku and Panto lived. Of course, humans had claimed it long ago, raising a high wall around it. 

Pinku landed on the black wall stealthily with raw guava in his beak while Panto waited for his signal. The alluring garden with a stunning waterfall was devoid of humans and birds. However, Pinku didn't fly in; he was well aware of mankind's treacherous ways. He swept his black beady eyes in each corner and dropped the raw fruit he had plucked on his way. The fruit fell on the grassy floor with a faint thud. The young parrot waited, holding his breath.  An old trick, though not so reliable now,  to make sure the gardener was not around. 

A gentle gust of wind set the gilded swing creaking, adding another sound to the burbling of the stream. No one responded to the thud. The orchard was really empty. Pinku raised his right-wing to tell Panto that he could fly in. 

Soon the two parrots were breakfasting on juicy elderberries. They didn't notice the two red eyes staring at them from the far corner of the orchard.

  The bald Gardner, Bruno, grinned wickedly. Lumora hadn't lied when he sold the trinket to him. The rusty earrings could really camouflage him perfectly. What a marvellous treasure it was, so cheap and so handy! He couldn't make out why the haughty smiths of Minaak didn't forge something like this. 

He touched the ordinary-looking earrings adoringly. He had pierced his ear lobes on his own in the night to put on the morian treasure. Yes, they were from Moria. The land of spirit-defilers. But Bruno could care less.  He had always believed himself a lost Morian. Lost in the dark land of pagans. 

He looked at the two thieves -one old and one young. The rogues had been giving him headaches for a long time. Nibbling his berries and fruits--the fruits even he could only watch.

He took out his clumsily mended crossbow and mounted a black bolt.  Closing his left eye, he steadied his quivering hands and aimed at the young parrot.

The filthy green bird was enjoying his juicy berries. The black arrow made of direwood darted as quiet as death. Bruno watched with bated breath. Despite his prolonged haggling, the arrow had cost him an arm and a leg. His heart ached when he paid Lumora thirty ducats, his hard savings. But the bolt was worth it. It didn't whisper as it approached the two parrots silently.  Bruno felt his heart stop with excitement. The bolt was now just two fingers away from its target. And then a strange thing occurred. 

When the arrow was just about to pierce the young parrot, he got swapped with the old parrot. And before the bewildered young parrot could make out of the strange incident. The direwood pierced the old bird and burned its discoloured body to ashes.

Everything occurred so soon that the old Panto couldn't even squawk. Pinku, petrified, gawked at the grey smoke as it swirled up as if chasing Panto's soul up to the starry nest of Aja. 

It took him a while to conceive the death of his only friend. And with the realization came a strange cill. As though his blood got replaced with the freezing water of the Kola river of the distant north. Grief and gloom invaded his hard preserved bright spot of his already dark heart.

He felt something shattered in his mind. With Panto gone, he could care less now. He had only one thought left, and that was mankind must die.  He ignored the weird feeling of having thousands of eyes or being present at thousands of places at once. Instead, he glared at the surprised human, the killer of his beloved Kenari and Panto. He must avenge them. With all his meagre strength, he swooped down at the incarnation of evil. 

The strange incident frightened Bruno to death. Had he just killed a spirit bird? No way, the old, discoloured parrot couldn't be a spirit bird. Then what had just happened? He could bet his morian earrings and direwood bolt that the old parrot had mysteriously swapped himself with the young parrot. 

Now he was in great trouble. Suddenly he sensed the fluttering of wings, But before he could see anything, the bird nibbled his right ear furiously. 

"Aagrah!" Bruno howled with pain. He hurled the damn parrot away and tightly pressed his bleeding ear. Almost half of the ear had been nicked away.

  The evil bird squawked loudly and flew towards him again. Appalled, Bruna fumbled for his crossbow. He had dropped it a few feet away. The bird came at his face like a bolt giving him no time to retrieve the crossbow. Horrified, the gardener covered his face with both hands. The enraged bird nicked his knotty fingers. Bruno knew what he had to do.  He closed his eyes tightly so the evil bird couldn't peck at them. And with a swap of his hand, he clamped the talons of the fluttering bird. The parrot furiously nibbled his hands, but Bruno didn't let go of them. He clenched his teeth, ignoring the pain and bird's nibbling, and he reached out for the bird's neck. He twisted it mercilessly. 

The bird's body went limp. Bruno dropped it on the floor, feeling elated at his victory.  At last, he had got rid of the two rogues. 

***

With his neck caught by the human, Pinku knew he had failed his promise. He felt a sharp pain and dizziness as his neck got twisted. The despair clouded him. 

However, the expected death didn't come. Instead, he found himself in a strange state. He was watching the world with thousands of eyes. What was it? He didn't know, nor did he care. He was alive, and so was the killer of his Kanari. The rage was boiling in him like the lava of Ashrar.  He flew towards the orchard. And with this thought rose the thousands of birds, flocking together towards the orchard. 

Bruno was still reflecting over his victory while dressing his wounds. When thousands of feathered creatures invaded the orchard all of a sudden. Horrified, the old gardener scurried towards the shed, but he tripped over, and the next thing he knew was the screeching birds were pecking him everywhere-his ears, his crooked nose, his arms, and his fingers. He screamed with pain and fear. But his screams drowned in the cacophony of birds. 

Soon his heart-wrenching howls subsided, but the enraged birds continued feasting on his flesh.. Strangely, most of them were not even carnivores. 

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