I was a thirty-seven-year-old fat and ugly king. Was. Now I am a naked man on a street in Bihar, and every drop of rain is hitting my bare body like a whip. A little while ago, it was not like this.
A little while ago, I was in my palace. The coldness of the throne was beneath my fat body, and I was surrounded by naked girls. Some were dancing, some were in my lap, and some were beside me. I had a flask of expensive wine next to me. I had a family, but I don't remember their faces. Maybe the injury on my head took my memory, or maybe the alcohol faded my memories forever.
No one wanted to be near me, not even the servants, unless I gave an order. That was wrong. They wouldn't listen to me properly and were slow when I asked for something. So I had them all put to death. What was wrong with that?
I still remember when I sentenced them to death, a maid came to me. Her face was beautiful. She was begging for forgiveness. I was drunk at that time too, with women all around me.
"Who is this maid who has escaped me until now?" I thought. I moved the other girls away and, in my drunken state, I "tasted" that girl. After that, I threw her aside. I wanted to sentence her to death as well, but I was so drunk that words couldn't come out of my mouth. She left. Until then, everything was going fine.
But a little later, the king of another country attacked us to expand his borders. Soldiers brought this message to me. My elder brother, the one who made me king, came to me.
"It is time for war," he said. "How can you be in this condition? Look at your younger brother, he is also going to war."
I laughed and said, "So what am I supposed to do?"
He slapped me. The slap was so hard that I fell off the throne.
"How dare you raise your hand on me?" I shouted. "Soldiers! Sentence him to death!"
But something happened that I had not expected. No soldier listened to me. It felt like I had been betrayed. But what could I do with this heavy body? A body that found it difficult to even walk, let alone stand properly. I lay there naked on the floor. I had drunk a lot and I didn't care.
When I regained consciousness, the entire court was full. Soldiers, ministers, officials—everyone was gathered together for the first time. I woke up when I saw my elder brother sitting on the throne. I couldn't believe it. A sharp pain started in my head and I fell right there. I was feeling cold, my body was shaking.
The clinking of coins made me think. What have I done in this life that today I have to sit with these beggars? Have to beg? That too in this rain. I am the king of this country. I didn't think about going back at all, because I knew that the power had now changed. He left me alive, and that itself was a big deal. Maybe because he was my own brother.
"Brother, I am hungry," a small 5-year-old girl said, coming up to me. She was cute.
"Hmm, this fool," I thought. "She can't even see the condition I am in. Such people should just die."
I pulled her and slapped her hard. She immediately started crying and ran away. What was my fault in this?
Today, a full year has passed since I started begging on this street. I wonder how I got here. I wish I could go back in time, just a little, just eight years ago, when I was a prince. When my face was very handsome and all the princesses wanted to meet me.
But that day, everything changed. If that thing hadn't happened to me, maybe a little love and humanity would have been alive inside me.
I had two marriages. One was political, and the other was my love, Estern. I wanted her the most, but she cheated on me. With another prince, who was my friend. When I caught them red-handed, I thought they would be scared, but they continued to have sex with each other even after I was there. I was right there.
But she didn't "cheat" in the neat way songs tell it. As a foreign princess, she had a country folded into her like a secret. That other prince was not merely a lover — he was a promise. Aligning with him meant protection for her people, a stronger hand for her family at court. Whether she loved him, was threatened into his bed, or chose him to survive, the bedchamber became a bargaining table.
My father understood that as plainly as anyone. A scandal splashed across the city would have been read in the courts of her homeland like a provocation. An accused princess could give her king a reason to sharpen his spears. For the realm, a quiet settlement was safer than a proud answer. So my father moved fast and cold: he removed me from the scene, hushed the court, and folded the scandal into a decision that read as discipline. Better a humiliated son than a burning border. Better to make me small in public than to watch banners rise in foreign colors.
Those were the hard calculations of men who ran kingdoms — justice bent until it served survival. And I, already unreliable and drunk, was the easiest way to keep the house whole.
My mother supported me a lot, but I sank into the habit of getting high. I would sleep day and night and be intoxicated. My father was killed in the war, and I felt no grief. My mind was going numb. When my mother was on her deathbed, I was drunk even then. She called me and said a few words, but I didn't understand anything. Those were my mother's last words...
Why did my brother make me king after coming back from the war? He knew my condition. Maybe it was his plot to bring me to this day.
But what I am seeing now is that same little girl I had hit. Some thugs came and started demanding money from her. It was none of my business. Anyway, I was about to die. Blood was constantly coming out of my mouth. I had gone from being fat to malnourished. But in my mind, just for once, there was a desire to do something for someone.
That thug was snatching money from the girl. I came in front of him and told him to stop all this. He took out a knife and attacked my stomach 22 times.
Twenty-two times...
I think he was some psychopath. Just then, I could hear the voices of some soldiers. I saw the child crying next to me. I don't know why she is crying, why she is asking me to get up.
They say that before you die, your whole life flashes before your eyes. This is true. I am saying this with certainty.
I thought of the girl who loved me very much, who was ready to leave her kingdom for me. But I didn't like her. I made fun of her in the open court, called her ugly and who knows what else. Now I think, I wish I hadn't made that mistake.
Then I remembered my mother, who always worried about me. When no one was there, my mother stood with me.
Maybe I wouldn't be in this condition today...
And just then, I remembered the one good thing in my life, my mother's last words:
"Son, take care of yourself."
I wanted to cry, but perhaps I was already dead.
Who is this woman who is holding me in her lap...?