Chapter 6: A Vow in the Cradle
"It's been six months since I was reincarnated. I can finally move my limbs a bit and warn my new mother before the disaster arrives. To my relief, she's pretty sharp and quick on her feet. And just like that... my days of soiling my diapers have come to an end."
Shon sighed inwardly. "These six months will definitely go down as the most embarrassing chapter of my life."
Lying in his cradle, Shon reflected on the absurdity of his situation.
"Speaking of reincarnation... I don't know how it happened. One moment I was sleeping in my hostel room after a long day, and the next, a blinding white light filled the room. Then... nothing. Just darkness."
His heart ached at the thought of his past life.
"I wonder how my mamma and papa must've felt when they found out. They had such high hopes for me. And now... here I am, stuck in the Mahabharat era with no clue how to go back. Heck, I don't even know how to survive yet."
But there was no point in dwelling on that.
"For now, I need to focus on what I can do. Somehow, I ended up in the house of the legendary suta couple—Radha and Adhirath—the very people who adopted Karna. Which makes Karna my elder brother. That should offer some protection. I mean, the guy will become a maharathi one day. But until then, he's just a ten-year-old boy who hasn't even started proper training. So I have to be cautious."
His thoughts darkened.
"My birth parents in this life... they were of the Brahmin varna. I don't know who killed them, or why, but one day, I'll find out. And when I do, I'll make sure justice is served. That's the least I can do for Maa Devaki and Baba Raghunath—for giving me this life."
He clenched his tiny fists in silent fury.
"I'll always carry their memory along with memory of my parents from kaliyug with me. From now on, I'll be known as Devaki Nandan."
And in the future, the world would indeed remember him by that name: Devaki Nandan Radheya Shon—a warrior of immense valor.
He smiled faintly.
"I guess I'm lucky. Radha Maa is warm, caring, and strong. I couldn't have asked for a better second mother. My first, Devaki Maa, gave her life to save me. That's what real mothers do. Not like some people who abandon their child for the sake of convenience."
He was, of course, thinking of Kunti. He couldn't help the bitterness.
"Funny, though... my mother in my past life was also named Devaki Sharma, and my father was Raghunath Sharma. That's too much of a coincidence to ignore. Maybe this isn't just chance. Maybe it's divine design."
He shook the thought away for now.
"For now, I need to grow. To survive what's coming. I need to become stronger—in body, mind, and soul."
Shon laid out a routine for himself.
"From today onward, I will chant the Gayatri Mantra and the Panchakshari Mantra (Om Namah Shivaya) throughout the day, pausing only to eat, sleep, and... other urgent matters. And I'll recite the Hanuman Chalisa every morning and night."
He knew he was no divine prodigy. He had no golden earrings or divine birth. But what he had—what he always had—was sheer determination. Just like when he worked toward his MBBS degree in his past life, despite being just average.
That mindset, that fire, would build the foundation for something great.
He didn't know it yet, but this quiet spiritual discipline would become the bedrock of his legend.
Right now, though, he had more pressing concerns.
His stomach rumbled. The signal had been sent.
"Uwaa... uwaaa... uwaaa!"
He began his daily warning cry.
Radha Maa came running. "Ohhh, my little Shon, you're getting so smart! Always crying a minute before you poop. My baby's growing up!"
"Hmph. Of course I am," Shon thought smugly. "There is no way I'm resigning myself to the disgrace of soiling my pants."
After his diaper was cleaned and he was dressed in fresh clothes, he got back to work.
He began chanting in his head:
Gayatri Mantra: "ओं भूर्भुवः स्वः तत्सवितुर्वरेण्यं भर्गो देवस्य धीमहि धियो यो नः प्रचोदयात्।"
(Om Bhur Bhuvah Swaha. Tat Savitur Varenyam. Bhargo Devasya Dheemahi. Dhiyo Yo Nah Prachodayat.)
He chanted it 108 times, followed by the Panchakshari Mantra:
"ओं नमः शिवाय।" (Om namah Shivaya)
He repeated the cycle throughout the day, only stopping to eat, play with his own fingers, or cry when absolutely necessary. It became a rhythm, a silent flow of discipline as he slowly molded his infant life into something meaningful.
At night, as his eyes began to grow heavy, he softly recited the Hanuman Chalisa in his mind, word by word, each syllable anchoring him in strength and protection.
Then he drifted off to sleep, his body small, but his will immense.
---
Somewhere far away... on a sacred mountain peak
A divine figure sat in deep meditation atop a giant rock. The air around him was still, yet alive with an energy beyond mortal comprehension.
Beside him, buried upright in the earth, stood a towering trishul (trident). A small damru (hand drum) was tied to its shaft, swaying gently with the breeze.
The weapon radiated power—primordial, unstoppable. The kind of power that could end worlds.
The moment Shon stopped his chanting and drifted into sleep, the meditating figure's lips curled into a small, knowing smile.
Why? No one knew.
But the cosmos had taken notice.
And Shon's path had just begun.