Excerpts from The Curse of Anuganga: 376 CE

It was the end of a warm, humid day in Kotivarsha, a small village near the splendid city of Pataliputra. The sun was beginning to set, and darkness had begun to descend upon all the houses. Diyas were being lit in front of homesteads in a bid to keep the supernatural away by the grace of Lord Vasudeva and Maharajadhiraja Chandragupta. Prayers and piety were found here in plenty, as the pious, knowledgeable residents went about the business of life.

At the door of a small hut, facing the long road towards Pataliputra, stood an old lady and a young girl, not more than ten years old. They were looking out onto the road, onto the village gates, which had still not been shut. They were probably waiting for someone — a father, a son, engaged in muted conversation. Presumably, the conversation was about the day that had been or even about the person awaited, or just banal chatter.

Nightfall was soon to herald its arrival in a grand manner: one would not be able to see a thing – but for the dim light and the hovering fireflies and tiny insects.

For now, however, to an observer’s eye, it was not so. Only remnants of a day, that was soon turning into night, remained.

It was then that the unnatural silence was broken. There was some movement on the road to Pataliputra — at a distance. All conversation came to a halt. The old lady and the little girl looked up alert, wondering what the chaos was about. At a distance rose some dust, or was it smoke? Unused to any commotion at dusk time, people from the other huts in that lane also stirred and came outside. This was an unusual occurrence and guessing from the expression on the old lady’s face, it was clear that this was unexpected. This was not what they had been waiting for.

Two men on horseback were hurrying towards Pataliputra. Were they spies or soldiers? As they came closer to the observers, a collective gasp went up in the air. Was it him that was being dragged? But he is a good man! Why? A harried, helpless man was being dragged, his arms tied to the two riders astride. As they galloped at top speed, the man screamed and shouted; his voice, feeble and wracked with pain, rage and frustration.  

“Lord Vasudeva will never forgive you! Anuganga will never forgive you! You shall pay for this grave injustice. Fear your karma; think of your children. You will pay. Some day. This is a dying, innocent man’s curse on all of you…”

The curse, loud and clear, echoed in the air as nightfall descended upon the tiny hamlet, sending an eerie chill down the spine of the spectators.

The horseback riders and the protesting man were soon gone. The Amavasya night was to be remembered for a very long time.