Tuesday, 17 November 2015

Scion of Ikshvaku by Amish Tripathi

3400 BCE, somewhere near the Godavari River, India. 
The unheard story of Ram who becomes Lord because of his deeds presented before us by Amish Tripathi with most enchanting , surprised way.

Ram crouched low as he bent his tall, lean and muscular frame. He rested his weight on his right knee as he held the bow steady. The arrow was fixed in place, but he knew that the bowstring should not be pulled too early. He didn’t want his muscles to tire out. He had to wait for the perfect moment. It must be a clean strike.

‘It’s moving, Dada,’ whispered Lakshman to his elder brother. 


Ram didn’t reply. His eyes were fixed on the target. A light breeze played with the few strands of hair that had escaped the practical bun atop his head. His shaggy, unkempt beard and his white dhoti gently fluttered in the breeze. Ram corrected his angle as he factored in the strength and direction of the wind. He quietly cast his white angvastram aside to reveal a battle-scarred, dark-skinned torso. The cloth should not interfere with the release of the arrow.

Lakshman fell silent. Ram knew they needed this kill. Lakshman and he, accompanied by his wife Sita, had been on the run for the last thirty days. A few members of the Malayaputra tribe, the sons of Malaya, led by their captain, Jatayu, were also with them.

Racing east through the Dandakaranya, the dense forest of Dandak, they had travelled a reasonable distance parallel to the Godavari. They were fairly reassured now that they wouldn’t be easily spotted or tracked. Straying too far from the tributary rivers or other water bodies would mean losing out on the best chance of hunting animals. Ram and Lakshman were princes of Ayodhya, inheritors of the proud Kshatriya tradition of the Raghukul, the descendants of Raghu. They would not survive on a diet of herbs, fruit and leaves alone.

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