| Cries of agony, yells of pain,
screams of fear and groans of death, reverberating the whole earth, deafened his ears. The
blood drenched red-field struck him blind. The thought of the bereaved and
the future of the vanquished shocked his mind. The sight of the dying and the plight of their
dependents hit his conscience. He felt, he was standing on the burning
deck.
He retraced his steps and reached the camp dispirated.
Sitting in the imperial chair, he tried to lay an impregnable and impenetrable thick, black cover
over the whole event. Fruitless. Attempted to forget the entire affair.
Impossible. It only remained firmly stationed unmoved, like a pillar in
his mind. Could the cushions give him comfort? He tried. No. Both are
capitals. Nor could the fragrant, cool breeze wafting from the 'chamaras'? Much the same is
true of any diversion. Why, the music lost its melody and the delicious
dishes their relish? Perchance, sage Counsels? Certainly not. They lost their validity, and suggestions,
their weight. He walked to and fro, and up and down. It only heightened his uneasiness, quick
and complete.
|
