The Prince’s Walk

This forest is lovely. The exotic trees do not go unnoticed. The jungle animals are playful, filling the silence with their cries. The gods have blessed us today and gave us this sunny day. The monsoon lasted for several days, and the sun was hidden behind the angry clouds of the Indian Deities.

I have been visiting this forest since I was a child. It is a sacred place. Trees have their own story. Majestic and old, they exceed the height and years of my palace. Within this magical place lie the abstract signs of the Gods, their whispers urging us to follow our destiny.

My destiny is clear. The Gods blessed me. They chose me as the son of the king of India. When my father dies, I will take his place. My father is a good king and a worthy general. One day I will make him proud, along with my country. I will be a good king as my ancestors were.

In the morning, I ordered to prepare Hindi, the white elephant accompanying me on my walks. Adorned with jewels and shining cloths embroidered by my servants, he has the prestige to carry his prince on his back. I took with me men in uniform, my four loyal soldiers. We will fight a battle as friends at some point in the future. They gallop on gallant black horses with gilded saddles, a sign of the king’s guard.

The elephant supporting me slowly crosses the centuries-old path, which emerges on the open plain in the middle of the forest. A magical place, with the value of uniqueness and a space empty of demons, suggests solitude’s importance. I have visited this holy land for years, and I find solace and feel small in the eyes of the Gods.

Halfway down the road, among the palm trees and foliage, the “Untouchables” quietly followed us. Scumbags, refuse, impure, scum. They are forgotten by society. The Gods chose not to make them human as punishment for their actions in past lives. A forgotten caste, from the rest of the castes, they have no right to live decently among us. A caste that not even their shadow should be brought before us. They are hidden among the forests, far from the safety of my Dynasty.

They jumped in front of us menacingly, blocking our way. I burst into laughter with the image of the wood and the broken stones in their hands. Skinny men were dirty and broken, and their faces were full of dirt that only corpses of skeletons reminded. No, these are not normal humans but animals forgotten by the Gods.

They want to steal food. It was too late when they noticed the royal garb adorning the royal Nayyar warriors and me.

My father was attacked by “Untouchables” many years ago. He was on a ride, accompanied by his faithful friend and Brahmin, Krishna. The “Untouchables” appeared before them, their faces black as night, their eyes hungry for food but also revenge.

It was then that my King father alone protected his faithful friend. He slaughtered the interlopers who dared to block the king’s way, who mustered the demonic audacity to attack in the presence of Gods. Then, the wildest of them carved the mark on my father’s face, from the base of his cheek to his eye. An indelible memory of the disrespect of the Untouchables.

At my command, the sound of the whip in the air, I ordered the Nayyar to dismount and put an end to this ridiculousness. With satisfaction, on the royal elephant saddle, I watched the golden knives cut the throats of the impure. The filthy corpses fell on the holy path, soaked in their blood. I took revenge for my King father. That’s how God Brahma wanted it. I answered, to their revenge, of impiety and beggary.

Created by Diana Chemeris

Story in Greek link below:

Δημοσιεύτηκε από τον dianachem

Fairy Tales May Be Real


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