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,

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

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.