Read this inspiring fictional tale of of love, duty and sacrifice. Let us travel to a small village, in the times bygone. An elderly man’s selfless act inspires a young captain to victory, leaving a lasting legacy in the northern kingdom’s history.
The Old Man and his Son
There was once a kingdom called Vijaypur, which trembled on the brink of destruction. Invaders from the east had breached the northern borders, and had wreaked havoc in the nearby villages. As thunder crashed and rain lashed the countryside, a small group of battle-weary cavalry soldiers stumbled through the muddy outskirts of a village.
In the outskirts of a bustling village, where lush fields slowly surrendered to a thick teak forest, sat a small, modest hut. This was the home of a frail old man named Dharma, who lived in solitude, with his strong horse, Arjun. Dharma treated Arjun like his son.
The Old Man and his horse
It was a stormy night, with rain pouring down relentlessly. The ground had turned into a slushy mess. The soldiers were led by a young Subhedar, whose name was Veer. They were the valiant men of the King’s cavalry, who had suffered heavy losses against the ruthless invaders from the east.
“We need shelter, food, and rest,” Veer muttered, scanning the darkness for any sign of refuge. “Or we will be useless in the battle tomorrow.” As if in answer, a faint glow pierced the gloom – a single oil lantern, burning in a humble hut at the edge of the forest. Veer’s heart leapt with hope. “There,” he pointed. “We will ask for aid.” Veer sent his men to Dharma’s hut.
They found the old man lying on a small durry on the floor, covered in a thick woolen blanket. Dharma’s face a roadmap of a long, hard life. He was shivering with cold, and was in obvious pain. When Veer’s men explained their situation.
One of Veer’s men spoke, exhaustion. “We are the King’s men, in dire need of—” “I know who you are,” Dharma interrupted, his gaze sweeping over the small band of soldiers. “And I know what you need.”
Grateful beyond words, the men reported to Veer that they could spend the night in the stable. “The man’s name is Dharma, and he said, “Go to the stable, my son will feed you,” One of the soldiers had noticed Dharma’s labored breathing. “The old man is unwell, Sahab,” He told Veer. The Young Subhedar went inside the hut to check on Dharma.
“Are you unwell, baba? Do you need any help?” Veer asked, concern overriding his own fatigue. Dharma waved away the question. “Never mind me, young man. Your duty lies elsewhere. Rest now, for tomorrow you have a hard day ahead, you know what you need to do,” his voice as unwavering as his spirit.
As Veer headed to the stable, Dharma’s heart sank. He knew “feeding” the soldiers meant sacrificing Arjun, his loyal companion for decades. By dawn, as the soldiers prepared to leave, he lay on his bed, life slowly ebbing away.Veer approached, grateful and concerned. “Can I do anything to help, baba?”
Dharma’s weak voice carried surprising strength: “You’re refreshed and ready. That’s enough. Go fight well – it’s your duty. I have done my duty as a loyal subject of our King. My son…” he paused, “…I hope my son did his duty, as was expected of him.”
Dharma passed away shortly after, his spirit finally at peace. Veer and his men, deeply moved by Dharma’s selflessness, lit the funeral pyre with respect and gratitude. The empty stable stood as a silent testament to the old man’s son, who had indeed done his duty for the country.
The Old Man and his horse
That day, Veer led his men to a glorious victory, pushing back the invaders to the east. Upon their triumphant return to Vijaypur, he was honoured by the King. A special ceremony was held in the Capital, where Veer narrated the tale of Dharma’s sacrifice to the King and the crowd. The King, overwhelmed with gratitude, proclaimed that he was blessed to have such patriotic citizens. He decided to erect a monument honouring the old man Dharma and his horse, Arjun.
The words “Go and fight a good fight. That is your duty” were inscribed in bold letters in front of the statue. Over the years, the story became a legend, a symbol of duty and sacrifice, forever remembered in the northern kingdom’s history.
I I had written this short story in early 2024, honoring a legend from the times bygone.
