Sid-O-Scope

I received a request to write a story on the ever loving Krishna and I chose this. There are lot of things already said about Krishna, the controversial warrior-poet. He was a great leader, strategist and orator but he rarely drew the following like his predecessor Ram. He was cunning, manipulative and a fierce lover and a lot has been said about him in mainstream storytelling. But what happened in his enemies mind? How did other warriors saw him? Everyone feared him, some worshipped him, some hated him but no one could ignore him.  This story is entirely fictional and creative adoption from the text of Jaya, that describes the Kurushetra war in detail.  "We need to talk," Bhishma walked into the war room unannounced. No one had dared disrespect Duryodhana before in his own war room but this was Bhishma. "I gather you got my message?" Duryodhana asked, "Come." Bhishma looked at the audience that was gathered in the war room. Sitting in the circl...

On the southernest peak of Bharatvarsha the army of monkey kingdom Kishkinda camped near the ocean bank. Few were busy preparing food for the rest, while others were sharping their weapons. There was a murmur among the army about crossing the ocean. At that time four people huddled at the beach discussing their option. Ram, Lakshman, Hanumaan and Jambavana discussing the strategy for crossing the ocean. "We need to find out if Ravana is holding Sita captive in that kingdom. I do not wish to battle the king without any sort of proof," Lord Ram said. "King Ravana rules Lanka. He is one of the most powerful and the richest king," Jambavana said. "But is there is a way to confirm if he has held Sita captive there and..." Lord Ram spoke, "... I need proof that he holds her captive against her wishes." "Brother!!!!," Lakshman gasped, "Do not doubt Sita mayya please." "I do not but as prince of Ayodhya and the lead...

Ravan was pacing hard in his royal chamber. A disturbing trend was brought to light in his peoples court today. His advisors informed of rise in corruption among the civil servants.  Ravan had always tried hard to instill discipline in his people. He tried hard to maintain peace and policy in the golden land of Lanka. We are the richest kingdom ever, don't they see it? he asked himself, If everyone is rich, why is there corruption? He kept asking question again and again. Why are the people corrupt? We are just and fair to everyone, we do not over tax them, no one is poor? Then why do we have corruption? Watching him agitated Vibhishan walked towards him, "Anything worrying you brother?" "Why is there corruption Vibhishan? We have given them everything they want.... why corruption then?" Ravan asked, "Even the poorest of the villager eats in the plate of Gold, then why do we have corruption? Why can't we end it once and for all?" Surpa...

Cover Image: Eternal Love by Deepika Kabe Two teens were pitched against the greatest killers in the kingdom. The rigged match was however won by them. One of them grew up to become God, another founded the principles of Yoga.  “Hurry up, Jaimini,” said the poor old farmer as he stepped out of the house. He tried to shut the door of his small hut but the handle was broken, “We should have got this handle fixed.” “Forget about it now,” Jaimini, his wife, said, “The handle is not the only thing broken in this house. The roof is leaking, we have food supplies only for a couple of more days. But what is it to you? You spend whatever you earn on booking tickets for those wrestling matches or drinking alcohol.” “Stop with your complains already,” he said, “Today the match is free for all. It is not always that the king invites the entire village to watch the match of Canura and Mustika.” “Aren’t those the two topmost wrestlers in entire Mathura?” asked Jaimini, remembering ...

If you have never met the Runner, you probably are one of those people who live a fulfilling life. Have kids, play it safely till retirement and then wait for death. Not runner, nope. He has met Death, twice by some account, messed with God's, raced from stone age to the future and is running forever since the beginning of time. Runner is the messenger for those who did not want their messages to be read by Government, Gods and Ghouls. Extremely resourceful with the knack of escaping the law, bullets and even death, twice so far. All his adventures begin and end with one conclusion. He is mysterious. This adventure began when the hooded figure arrived at Runners lunch table few days ago. “You are here,” said the hood looking at the Kheema Pav, Runner was gobbling. “What the f***,” Runner spat the morsel he was eating looking at the hood, “You again? I told you I am not available.” “You come with good credentials,” the hood said, “My brother Death speaks highly of you.”...

The only truth in the universe is death. Extinction. Annihilation. In a highly fluid environment one must be prepared for change, extinction is the natures way of telling that land must be cleared for a new species to dominate. Nature is governed by a single law, Adapt or perish. This holds true for a single individual, species, society or even a reality. Thus when Dinosaurs had fulfilled their time on earth, a meteoroid shower conveniently wiped them of their existence. The universe threw me into the liquid reality without any life support.... sink or swim, in the ancient prison of Kaladunga. I did, what I always do best, I survived. I was born in the dark cellar on the dungeon on the island of Kaladunga, and my childhood was spend getting whipped by the prison master for the sins I never committed. For six years, after I learned to talk, I kept asking, what have I done? is being born a sin? The old priest used to visit the prison trying to teach me religion. I kept asking hi...

Uddhava knew this was the ending, this is it. After moving the people from Mathura and winning the war against Kaurava, karma had caught up with his old friend. The blood bath could not be stopped, Yadavas could not be saved. Two days ago, Uddhava was called upon by his cousin on the death bed, The chariot raced through the muddy streets towards vrindavan. On the back seat clutching tightly to his chest sat Uddhava. Nervous, worried and upset he didn’t know what lay ahead. Events flashed in front of his eyes of the bloodbath in his bellowed Dwarka. The entire Yadav clan was dead, with their own arrows. He though of the dying words of his old friend Krishna, ‘It’s over, my friend,’ Krishna had said as he rest his head on Uddhava thigh, ‘Time for me to leave the mortal world.’ ‘Don’t say this, brother,’ Uddhava smiled, ‘The vaidyas are trying their best to recover you. Do not worry.’ Krishna smiled, ‘they are bound by the physical realities of the mayavi world my friend, I a...

This story is part of my retelling of old classics. No claim is made on the authenticity of the story as this is a retelling, some creative liberty is used. Part of 'The one who stood against shiva and other stories'  http://www.amazon.co.uk/stood-against-Shiva-other-stories-ebook/dp/B00HLPNCAM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1439976319&sr=8-1&keywords=the+one+who+stood+against+shiva Since her birth, Kadru the mother of all snakes always had a boiling rivalry with her sister Vinata, the future mother of Garudas or the eagles. Oh how magnificent Vinata was, with her wings spread out wide, her long flights in the air. Once Vinata kept on and on about her long jump towards the sun. Oh how jealous Kadru was. Kadru made a vow that day, that one day, Vinata would be her slave. When they both where married to the Sage Kashyap, son of Manu, she demanded 100 sons, to fulfil her vow against her sister. Vinata was still the smartest and she asked for only two, but both of...

Now ‘I give up,’ he said silently, methodologically and calmly, ‘I give you this round, the fact that you have managed to penetrate my chakravyuva defense on this island, proves you are an intellectual capabilities are no less than mine, Agatya,’ Agatya breathed heavily as he looked at his arch enemy, the terror of the west, the criminal mastermind, Professor Omnivore, this was over? So easily?

Now ‘Are we not men?’ he asked loudly fallen on the blackened path. The skies were gone forever, now covered with black haunting darkness, ‘Don’t we deserve another chance?’ Some unknown time before Slowly cautiously he walked in the darkness. For last 500 millenniums he was in the dark, this was nothing different, this was home. Home sweet home. It was their evil plan, the cruel Gods who engineered the whole thing. Screwed and cunning Indra and his minions trapped him into the worm hole for eternality.  They cunningly distributed the nectar of life to the Gods. The poor humans never stood a chance, they were taught since childhood to obey whatever was fed to them, even if it was bad. The humans called it fate, the humans said they were not worthy. Of course, that’s why humans were made, unpaid slaves to do the dirty deeds of Gods. But when the Gods did the same to the demons, they retaliated. ‘Why would nectar of life be given to Gods only? Why should demons accept...

'A sword is an extension of ones arm. It is the part of the warriors body. Do not think of the sword as a mere tool, for every tool is weapon if you hold it right,' the aged teacher spoke as he wielded the two swords in his arm, 'Do not think of these two as different, they are different parts of the same thought. The thought that drives the arm into motion is the same thought that drives the two blades in both your arms. They swing together in uniform motion like gears in a well oiled machines, like two brothers in the duel, both fighting back-to-back watching for each other.' 'You were always an excellent tutor,' the man sitting high up on front chair spoke softly, 'But you did not lend me the sword-smith scroll. As the royal holiness, I am entitled to master the scroll.' 'The sword-smith scroll was written many years before the royal blood line began and was passed down from generation to generation with a pact that it cannot be passed on...

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 11 ; the eleventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton . He stood there on the grave of his best friend, holding a piece of paper in his hands. The piece was paper was the echo of his friend last words on earth. A single tear rolled on his chin and went for a free fall onto the mud with a splash. Eighteen years ago, location: A walking path in an unknown forest They were teens, 18-19 year old and wore pure white robes and were arguing furiously.   'You know it,' the 18 year old, Dhuri was talking.   'I do not,' his friend, Aju said.   'You do...,' Dhuri said, 'I know guruji took you aside and taught you the way.'   Aju kept mum, the fact that Dhuri knew about his secret scared him. Guruji had warned him of the threats. ‘We are best friends Aju, tell me,'...