After packing and bringing everything with them the villagers set off for the caves. It was not too far, around two hundred meters from the village. The cave, a gaping maw on the side of the mountain.
As Arjun and the villagers entered the cave, its interior unsettled him,"I don't like the darkness and dampness of the cave". He glanced around, taking in the rough-hewn stone walls and the flickering torches that lined the passage "but it's safe here".The air inside was heavy with the scent of earth and mildew, and the distant echoes of their footsteps reverberated off the walls, creating an eerie atmosphere.
The cave entrance was partially obstructed by boulders and defended by a large wooden door entwined with naturally grown vines, yet it was still wide enough for two or three bulls to charge side by side. The villagers clustered near it, their voices barely audible as they exchanged anxious glances.
"I heard from villager 15 that the forest spirits are angry," murmured villager 61, his brow furrowed with concern.
"Angry? What could we have possibly done to anger them?" replied villager 9, her voice trembling with fear.
"I don't know, but something's not right. Did you see how the animals are behaving? It's like they're possessed," chimed in villager 35, his eyes darting nervously towards the forest.
"Maybe it's a sign of something worse to come," suggested villager 28, her hands trembling slightly.
"Or perhaps it's the work of dark magic," whispered villager 49, his gaze fixed on the dense foliage beyond the clearing.
As the villagers exchanged their speculations, Arjun listened with a furrowed brow. "How can it be dark magic?" he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Obviously, it's the forest spirit. My daddu is always right. These people don't even know anything."
Suddenly, their village chief's booming voice cut through the cavernous space bringing them out of their delusions. "We need to fortify our defenses!" he commanded, his words echoing off the walls."so, We need to make traps and dig holes around the perimeter. Let's set spikes of wood in the traps to deter any creatures that get too close."
"Now 20 people are to set the traps, 20 are to reinforce the walls and the rest are to repair if needed destroy and rebuild the pen for animal and storage room in the clearing "
Arjun nodded, his mind racing as he assessed the cave's entrance. The walls, made of wooden logs, mud, and stones, had kept them safe in the past but now needed reinforcement. He suddenly had an idea. "Chief, Why don't we also set wooden spikes in the ground near the defense walls and on them too?".
The village chief paused, considering the idea. "Good idea, Arjun. We'll do it as you suggested," he agreed. "Guys, also set spikes on the walls and on the ground near it. Now get going":
"Okay Now, Arjun, go help with binging and moving the log to where it is needed, but don't go too far from the cave. You're still young."
Arjun, feeling a surge of pride and frustration at the chief's words replied, "No, I'm not. I'm already 15 this year."
"Haha, not until the rite of Kishor, we will see when it comes," the village chief replied with a hearty laugh, his confidence unwavering"now go don't get late".
"It's just 6 months away and you'll see what I got then, huh!!"
Dinesh's on reply was "hahahah"
##---
Outside, From a bird's-eye view, the clearing stretched out into the surrounding forest like a mosaic of activity and determination. At the foot of the mountain, where the cave nestled amidst the rugged terrain, villagers scurried about like ants, their movements fueled by urgency.
The villagers set to work. Along the perimeter of the cave entrance, they dug deep trenches, their shovels digging deeper into the earth with each determined thrust. These trenches would serve as the first line of defense, hindering any creature that dared to approach.
Meanwhile, others reinforced the wooden walls with additional logs, binding them together with thick ropes made from woven vines. Each log was carefully selected for its strength and durability, ensuring that the walls would withstand even the most relentless assaults.
The defense walls, constructed of sturdy wooden logs bound together with layers of mud and stone on it, stood as a barrier against the wilderness and its dangers. Villagers hurriedly reinforced them with ropes, yet despite their diligent work, cracks in their defenses were evident, gaps where the earth seemed to reclaim its hold, threatening to undo their efforts.so they filled it with stones and boulders.
Some villagers Armed with axes and saws, began carving wooden spikes from sturdy branches and logs. They hammered the spikes into the ground and on the wall, positioning them at strategic intervals along the walls. Each spike was sharpened to a deadly point, ready to impale anything that dared to charge into it.
In addition to the spikes, the villagers also constructed makeshift barricades from fallen trees and boulders outside the walls, forming a secondary barrier against intruders. These barricades would buy precious time in the event of an attack, allowing the villagers to regroup and mount a defense.
A symphony of hammering and shouting echoed off the rocky cliffs, mingling with the rustling of leaves and the occasional distant cry of a bird. Clouds of dust rose with each footstep, obscuring the view like a veil of uncertainty, while overhead, the sun cast long shadows that stretched across the forest floor.
As the villagers set to work fortifying their defenses, Arjun couldn't shake the unease gnawing at him. He knew he was supposed to be focused on the task at hand, but his thoughts kept drifting to his grandfather, Bhima. Bhima had always been his guiding light, teaching him the ways of the forest and instilling in him a deep respect for nature. But now, with Bhima injured, his worry won't let him work in peace.
Amidst the hustle and bustle, Arjun stole a moment of solitude, gazing out at the forest beyond the cave entrance. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, their leaves whispering secrets of ages past. But there was no time for such thoughts now. With a determined sigh, Arjun pushed aside his doubts and threw himself into the task at hand, helping to set traps and reinforce the defenses with a newfound sense of purpose.
Very soon, the cave entrance took on a formidable appearance, bristling with spikes and fortified walls. The villagers worked tirelessly, their determination unyielding in the face of adversity.
As evening descended upon the clearing, casting long shadows, Arjun and the villagers gathered around a crackling campfire. The flickering flames danced against the backdrop of the cave entrance, casting an ethereal glow that illuminated the faces of those seated around it.
Elder Ratan, his weathered features illuminated by the fire's warm light, slowly brought his walking cane to the forefront as he began to speak. His voice, deep and resonant, carried a weight of wisdom accumulated over countless years.
"Listen well, my children," he began, addressing the small ones who sat huddled around him, their eyes wide with wonder and were fidgeting with excitement, his words weaving a tapestry of myth and legend. "Long ago, before our village existed, the forest was ruled by a powerful spirit whom we call the forest spirit (वन आत्मा). It was said that the spirit watched over the land, protecting it from harm and ensuring the balance of nature was maintained."
The villagers listened intently, their eyes wide with wonder as the elder painted a vivid picture of the forest's mystical past. Around them, the sounds of the forest seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the elder's mesmerizing tale.
"But as time passed," the elder continued, his voice growing somber, "the people of the nearby villages grew greedy, exploiting the forest's resources without regard for the consequences. The forest spirit, angered by their disrespect, unleashed its wrath upon them, unleashing a wave of chaos and destruction. Our village, however, was spared, for we have always obeyed the balance of nature."
The children, frightened by the elder's tale, ran to seek comfort from their parents. Arjun, seeing their reaction, smiled knowingly.
"Again, the same story to scare us, huh?" He remarked with a hint of amusement. A wistful smile played on his lips, tinged with a hint of melancholy as memories of his own childhood flooded back. He remembered the nights spent huddled by the fire, wide-eyed and trembling as his parents spun tales of forest spirits and ancient legends to keep him in line.
Oh, how those stories used to send shivers down his spine, yet now they seemed like distant echoes of a simpler time.
But amidst the nostalgia, a pang of sadness tugged at Arjun's heart. He longed for the comforting embrace of his parents, for the reassurance that everything would be alright. Yet, he knew he had to be strong, just as they had taught him. "Boys never cry and men always laugh" he whispered to himself, drawing strength from the wisdom of his beloved father.
With a resolute nod, Arjun pushed aside his fleeting emotions, steeling himself for the challenges ahead. There was no room for tears or doubt, only the steadfast adherence to dharma, the moral duty instilled in him by his daddu. Following and doing "Dharma," which his grandfather often said, "is the guiding light in times of uncertainty, the compass that points us towards righteousness when we are lost in the darkness of doubt.the act we must do as a person"
Drawing strength from these words. In the face of adversity, he would cling to the teachings passed down through generations, trusting in the timeless wisdom of his ancestors to lead him through the trials ahead.
"And so," the elder concluded, his voice fading into the night, "we must always remember to respect the forest and its inhabitants, for the Guardian of the forest watches over us still, ever vigilant and ever ready to defend its domain."
As Elder Ratan concluded his tale, a hush fell over the gathered villagers, the crackling of the fire the only sound breaking the silence. Suddenly, a small voice piped up from the edge of the group. A child, no older than twelve, with wide eyes filled with curiosity, raised their hand timidly.
"Kaka*" They addressed the elder respectfully, "if the forest spirit protects the forest and its inhabitants, then will it be angry if we kill animals?"
Elder Ratan regarded the child with a gentle smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He adjusted his position, leaning slightly on his walking cane as he prepared to answer.
"Ah, kalu," he began, his voice carrying a soothing tone, "the forest spirit is not angered by the natural cycles of life and death. It understands that all creatures must eat to survive, and sometimes, that means hunting for food."
The child nodded, absorbing the elder's words with attention. "But," Elder Ratan continued, "the forest spirit does frown upon unnecessary cruelty and wastefulness. We must always respect the animals we hunt, thanking them for their sacrifice and ensuring that we use every part of their body to sustain ourselves."
The child's brow furrowed in thought, processing the elder's wisdom. "So, as long as we hunt with respect and gratitude, the forest spirit will not be angry with us?"
"Indeed," Elder Ratan affirmed, his voice warm with reassurance. "Remember, my child, we are but guests in the forest, and it is our duty to live in harmony with its inhabitants, showing gratitude for the gifts it provides us."
With a nod of understanding, the child settled back into the group, their curiosity satisfied for the moment. With those final words, the elder fell silent, and The villagers resumed their chatter. The women, seated in a group, produced the loudest chatter as they exchanged stories and rumors, their voices blending with the crackling of the fire and the rustling of leaves in the night breeze.
####--------####
Kaka
A respectful and common way to address people or elder male that are older than your father or just smaller than your grandfather by some margin
Author's note###
I apologize if you find the talk about dharma boring or nonsense but here in the place which is a mostly isolated village and the timeline of this story this type of ancestral wisdom is one of the common things the people rely most on for psychological support, even today it's true like 'boys never cry'.
Again, Sorry readers the second chapter at first was only 2000 words but as I wrote it became 3000 so I have to split it.
Well, the main reason was I was not even finished with the chapter. There was ⅓ ch remaining.and if i wrote that it would become too big. So, that's why I split it up.