Sehwag Tales - Chapter 3

To start from the first chapter : 

A stalwart figure, his robust physique emphasized by a long beard and tightly bound head, sat poised on a rugged boulder by the riverbank. With legs folded, he chanted mantras, eyes closed in deep meditation. Even in his meditative state, his thick eyebrows displayed a keen awareness of the surroundings, while his broad nostrils seemed to dance to the rhythm of the atmospheric oxygen. The morning sun, standing aloof in the distant eastern sky, cast a serene and soothing light upon the river beds.

As the man sensed the approach of his students, the unmistakable sounds of footsteps, laughter, and chatter filled the air. Sehwag and his companions presented a red flag adorned with the twin-tusk emblem of Yemangadha to their teacher, Achanandhi. Unperturbed, Achanandhi gently opened his eyes, examining the flag without a hint of consternation. "I was there last night, at the King's disposal for government reasons," he muttered through gritted teeth, anger evident in his voice.

The boys were taken aback by the revelation. "You managed to find us in disguise, master?"

"I train those arms, Padhumuk. What you did last night might seem brave, but true bravery is not just the absence of fear; in fact, nobody is fearless. It is to focus the fear in the right direction."

"We could think of no other way to prove our readiness, master," Sehwag humbly but boldly stepped forward. "We are prepared, master," the others echoed. "It's time we eliminate that dictator." Sehwag clenched his fist. They often do these kinds of actions without second thought and call themselves revolutionists, fueled by their resentment towards the oppressive rule of Kattiyankaar. They are teenagers after all. Anger is the only language they understand.

Achanandhi took a long breath. "We are not seeking terrorism, my son. Nor are we advocating for a revolution. We seek reformation, and reformation demands more than just bravery and motive. Everything has its time. The one who waits is the one who strikes well." Though Achanandhi knew Sehwag was Kachandha's son and the rightful heir to the throne, he never disclosed it, adhering to Vijayamadevi's plan to mould him into a better man before revealing his true identity.

"Did you hear about the cattle?" Achanandhi changed the subject.

Sehwag and his friends were aware of the news – tribals from the woods had stolen cattle from the town, and the royal unit sent to retrieve them returned with only casualties. The talk of Rasamapur town revolved around this incident.

"Yes, master," they nodded.

"I want you to rescue the cattle and deliver them to the farmers. Prove to the town that we are more capable than the government, gaining their trust. Prove it to them, not to me."

"We will, Master," their legs clapped to the ground, hands to the thighs, eyes locked with determination, and heads nodded in unison.

"Now, practice wrestling. Tribals can be rough. And you, Padhumuk, focus on archery."


Next Chapter : 

Vigneshwaran, Senior Correspondent of is both a skilled digital content writer and marketer by profession, as well as an avid independent writer driven by his passion. His literary talents extend to crafting beautiful poems and captivating short stories. In addition to these creative pursuits, he has also authored a book titled "Halahala," which can be found on Wattpad.

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