Rebirth As The Asura Prince

It's been centuries since that fateful day when Meghnad, also known as Indrajit, fell in battle. People came to view history as just a myth, something that once had the power to instill fear and awe, now relegated to the realm of folklore and legend. The name Indrajit, once synonymous with unmatched power and devastating might, became a subject of tales told to children, a ghostly figure from an era long past.

But even in those stories, Meghnad was described as just a background character who supported evil and died a useless death. The deeper complexities of his character, the inner conflict between his duty and his morality, were often overlooked. His story was reduced to a cautionary tale, a warning against the follies of siding with evil.

People overlooked his tragedy in front of their god, how he shouldn't stand against the god of justice, and how his internal battle reflected a more profound and universal struggle. Indrajit, the warrior who had conquered the heavens, was now seen as a mere footnote in the grand saga of righteousness prevailing over evil.

But wasn't he following his father's orders, regardless of what happened to him in the process?

Wasn't Lord Rama the same, who left all his luxurious life as a prince to keep his father's promise and live in the forest for fourteen years like a hermit?

Then how are they seen differently just because of the roles they played in the larger narrative? Both Meghnad and Lord Rama faced dilemmas driven by duty and honor, yet history often casts them in contrasting lights. Meghnad's loyalty to his father, King Ravana, drove him to fulfill his duties as a warrior, even when conflicted by moral concerns. On the other hand, Lord Rama's adherence to righteousness led him to uphold the principles of dharma, even at great personal sacrifice.

The differing perceptions of these characters reflect the complexities of human judgment and storytelling biases. Meghnad, despite his tragic internal struggle, is often remembered through the lens of his allegiance to a cause considered 'evil' by prevailing moral standards. Meanwhile, Lord Rama's adherence to dharma and his noble actions have elevated him to the status of a divine figure in many narratives.

Book Closes~

The cover of the book has "RAAVANPUTR MEGHNAD: The Prince of Lanka" title on it published by Kevin Missal in 2019.

The ending, with the perception of Meghnad remaining divisive even centuries later, adds a thought-provoking element to the story. The boy looking at the book with a sad yet angry expression hints at the enduring legacy and emotional impact of Meghnad's story.

"You were not a coward, You just didn't have the choice." The boy's words resonated with a poignant truth, encapsulating the essence of Meghnad's tragic narrative.

"Now I am happy that I was named after you, Indrajit." A forced smile made its way onto his face.

"You were just following your dharma, Indrajit," the boy whispered, his voice carrying a mixture of admiration and sorrow. As he closed the book gently, a sense of reverence lingered in the air as if paying homage to a figure lost to history's simplifications.

The boy sighed softly, the weight of the story still heavy on his young shoulders. Closing the book, he placed it gently on his bedside table, the title glinting in the dim light of the room. He glanced out the window, where the night sky spread like a vast canvas dotted with stars.

"It's night already," he murmured to himself, feeling a sense of melancholy settling in. The events of Meghnad's life, his struggles, and his ultimate fate, continued to echo in his mind. Despite the passage of centuries, the story felt vivid and immediate, as if the characters' emotions transcended time.

As he gazed at the stars, thoughts swirled in his head. He couldn't help but wonder about the complexities of duty and morality that had shaped Meghnad's journey. The boy admired Meghnad's courage and skill in battle, yet he couldn't shake the sadness of how history had remembered him.

"He deserved more," the boy whispered, his voice barely audible in the quiet room. "To be understood, not just judged."

Turning away from the window, he decided to leave the book open on his table, a silent tribute to the warrior whose name he bore. Meghnad's legacy, though clouded by history's gaze, lived on in his heart as a reminder of the complexities that defined human existence.

With a final glance at the book, the boy extinguished the lamp beside his bed and settled under the covers. The night enveloped him, its silence a stark contrast to the battles and turmoil he had just experienced through the pages.

"...I wish...I could...live as...Meghnad...I would have...changed him...fate..." The boy drifted into sleep with those being his last words as-

CRACKLE!!!

BOOOM!!!

The lone thunderbolt struck with deafening force, engulfing the room in a blinding flash of light and a resounding boom that echoed through the night. The suddenness of the strike shattered the tranquility of the boy's room, leaving behind an eerie stillness.

Outside, the storm raged on, rain lashing against the windowpanes as if in mourning for the life lost. The book lay open on the table, its pages fluttering in the gusts of wind that swept through the room.

In the aftermath of the lightning strike, silence descended once more. The boy's room, now a scene of devastation, bore witness to the inexplicable tragedy that had befallen him. His body lay still on the bed, untouched by the chaos that had consumed him in an instant.

Outside, neighbors stirred from their sleep, drawn by the sound of the thunderbolt that had shattered the night's peace. Voices murmured in hushed tones as they gathered outside the boy's home, trying to make sense of the inexplicable event.

Inside the room, the open book remained a silent witness to the boy's final moments. The pages, now dampened by rainwater seeping through the broken window, seemed to carry a weight of their own as if reflecting the tumultuous emotions that had gripped the boy in his last moments.

Among the onlookers stood an elderly man, his face etched with lines of sorrow and disbelief. He had known the boy well and had seen him grow up with a deep fascination for tales of valor and sacrifice. Now, he struggled to comprehend the cruel twist of fate that had claimed the boy's life.

"He admired Meghnad so much," the elderly man murmured to himself, his voice choked with emotion. "To think he would meet such a tragic end..."

...

In the skies, The man on the elephant, with a crown on his head and an air of arrogance, surveyed the scene below with piercing eyes. He was none other than Lord Indra, the king of gods, known for his thunderbolt and authority over the heavens.

As he observed the aftermath of the thunderbolt that had struck the boy's room, Indra's face had a mocking smile, reflecting both satisfaction and a hint of remorse. He had wielded his thunderbolt with precision.

"He dared to name himself after Meghnad," Indra mused aloud, his voice carrying across the heavens like a distant rumble of thunder. "A mortal aspiring to embody the legacy of the Conqueror of Indra. How amusing."

***

Drip~

Drip~

Drip~

"Mm..." The boy slowly opened his eyes, disoriented and groggy. The rhythmic sound of water droplets hitting the ground echoed in the silence. As his senses adjusted, he realized he was no longer in his bed, No he wasn't even in his room.

The place could be described in just one word, CAVE. The cave was dimly lit by a soft, otherworldly glow. Strange symbols adorned the walls, pulsating with a faint energy. As the boy struggled to sit up, he noticed he was not alone. A figure, he was shrouded in a brilliant golden light. He just outlined the figure to guess figure was a man.

He was very tall, His long hair was tied in a bundle over his head, On it was what looked like a crescent moon worn as decoration, From the bundle of his hair fountain of water continuously came out of it, When you look at his neck there was outline of a snake constricting on it, But the most eye-catching things was a what held in man's hand a Trident, That trident as big as the height of the man, It was emitting ferocious yet gently aure. These two feelings were contrary to each other but when it comes to Trident it felt like it was meant to be.

"mahadev... MAHADEV!!!"

As the boy uttered the name "Mahadev," the figure in the cave turned towards him with eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness itself. The glow around him intensified briefly before settling into a gentle radiance, casting a serene atmosphere in the cave.

"You called, my child?" His voice resonated with a deep, calming tone that echoed through the cave walls. The boy, still bewildered by his surroundings, struggled to find his voice.

"Where... where am I? What happened?" The boy managed to ask, his eyes darting around the cave as if searching for answers in the shadows.

"Ah~ that would be the place between realms," Mahadev replied, his voice resonating with a profound serenity. He approached the boy with measured steps, his presence filling the cave with a sense of peace amidst its mystical atmosphere.

"You have crossed the boundary, my child," Mahadev continued, his eyes filled with compassion as he observed the boy's bewildered expression.

"B-But how?" The boy's voice trembled as he struggled to comprehend his surroundings and the presence of the enigmatic figure before him.

"You died, my child," Mahadev said gently, his voice resonating with both authority and compassion. "But your journey is not over. Your soul has been brought here, to this realm between worlds, for a purpose."

The boy's eyes widened, fear and disbelief mingling in his expression. "I... I died? But why am I here? What purpose?"

Mahadev knelt beside the boy, his presence calming and reassuring. "You have been given a rare opportunity, one that transcends the boundaries of life and death. Your admiration for Meghnad, your desire to understand his plight and perhaps change his fate, has not gone unnoticed."

The boy's mind raced, memories of the thunderbolt, the book, and his final words before sleep flooding back to him. "You mean... I can change Meghnad's fate?"

Mahadev nodded slowly. "In a sense, yes. You have been chosen to step into the shoes of Meghnad, to live his life, face his challenges, and make choices that could alter the course of his destiny. But be warned, this is not a simple task. The weight of his legacy and the burdens of his duty will be yours to bear."

A mixture of awe and apprehension filled the boy's heart. "But why me?"

Mahadev's eyes twinkled with a hint of mystery. "You have shown a deep understanding and empathy for Meghnad's struggles. Your soul resonates with his story, and this connection has granted you this extraordinary chance. It is a rare gift, and you who wanted to understand Meghnad's complexities and change his fate."

Mahadev looked at the expression of fear and uncertainty on the boy's face as a gentle smile spread across his face. "Fear not, my child. You will get one boon from me as a token of apology for Indra's actions..."

The boy couldn't hear the last part of the sentence as Mahadev's voice faded into a whisper, lost in the sudden rumble of distant thunder echoing through the cave. The boy's heart raced as he tried to process the enormity of what Mahadev had revealed.

"A boon... from Mahadev himself?" The boy whispered to himself, awe and disbelief mingling in his voice. He gazed up at Mahadev, who radiated a serene presence amidst the mystical aura of the cave.

"What... what kind of boon?" The boy managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper, afraid to break the solemnity of the moment.

.

..

...

[To Be Continued]

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I have no intention of hurting anyone's feeling as I am Hindu too, I am not comparing Lord Rama with Meghnad but want to say that they have many similarities in between.

I am sorry if it still not enough, Comment me I will remove this chapter.

Suggest to me the boon which would be perfect for Meghnad.

Comment Here->

Leave a review, It helps.

Thanks for reading.