Who deserved to live and who was fated to die? Most curiously, who was fated for a happy end after death? Revika did not know. She was only a minor employee to the Universe. Yama might know, even though he’d never tell. “If you really want to know, you’ll find out,” he had said when Revika bugged him with her queries once, not too long ago.
“You woke up, bit him on his dirty hands, clawed his evil face and made a dash for the unlocked door. You were facilitated by the fact that he had slipped on the bathroom floor which gave you enough time to make your escape. But they were just random spontaneous events, little girl, they were spontaneous events that I created,” Revika deadpanned.
Yama needed a person in a coma. His records showed that the boy would be in one soon. That and the boy’s peculiar obsession for writing ridiculous stories that nobody wanted to read—made him almost tailored-fit for the job. She had read one of his stories. It was about a bunch of elves living inside a person’s gut for heaven’s sake! What was the name—Revika snorted, trying to recall—ah, The Kapatika Chronicles. The parasite chronicles. Huh. He would know. He was after all, a parasite in his own home.
Revika thought she’d refuse but she didn’t. The woman trotted away in her nimble little feet, leaving Amara to stare once again at the river below. The river seemed to be singing in its own sad song, singing of mystery and confusion, in a tongue that only a lonesome soul would understand.
"What made you think that? It was just a random thought," the woman said, eyes twinkling. She was finally making decent conversation with Amara --- I observed from my cover. Maybe that's what she wanted the whole time. A lonely soul trying to have a friendly talk with another lonely soul.
One day when I have done my share of duties, I would pass them on to the next apprentice in training. And then I would be one with the soul of the universe after having a sip of the holy nectar from Yama’s celestial jar. It’s going to be at least a few hundred years before that would happen, so I got to keep myself in his good books for the time being.
I’m walking down a similar road now. It’s a pitch black, moonless night. There are dark clouds covering every inch of the sky like a flock of grumbling black sheep in a congested shed. They fidget every once in a while, causing a rumbling racket. From time to time, their keeper shows up with his flickering torch and they fall into a disgruntled silence.
He tried jolting his body forwards but in vain. For all that he tried, he hardly moved an inch. The black stone embedded in his core glowed blood-red and Sam yelped in pain. It seemed as if two opposing forces were pulling him in two directions—he felt as if he would be torn to pieces any minute now.
The forces of the Void twisted the boy to turn him into one of its own. One more minion at its command; one more hungry soul begging to be fed. The Void fed off those souls, souls that wanted nothing else other than a second chance at life—souls that were cursed to remain imprisoned in the infinite dungeons of the Void for time immeasurable.
The bull rode faster towards him, causing a deafening rumble as its hooves touched the thunderclouds. Sam flung his arms over his face in an attempt to shield himself from the raging creature. The golden bell around his neck clanged as it swung against its heavily bejeweled body. The black beast swooped down and started moving towards the window, landing right inside the room. It stopped at a bare arm’s length from pale human.
The thing gaped at him with huge hollow eyes. Well, not quite at him, but at his shell. At length, the thing turned to face Sam’s soul standing beside his body, tied to it on the ankle by a thin cord that looked like it would snap into two if he so much as tugged at it. The thing had the look of a dead creature. It looked at him almost longingly.
Something had happened—an incident that he couldn’t quite bring to mind at the moment. But he was speeding down a potentially lethal road in the middle of night, in the biting cold and muffling wind, speeding like his motorbike was fueled with the devil’s blood. He had hit something big and hard.
The story begins.
The book is about the previous life of one of five friends who start on a boat journey through the Dihing river of Assam as a brief escape from their monotonous lives. A series of events cause them to be castaway far from civilization. That's when one of them starts dreaming about people and incidents from his past life, thus unveiling the story of an ancient kingdom called Kamal Nagar that thrived on that very region almost 1300 years ago. This is the story of Kamal Nagar, its simple people, its exotic beauty and its tragic end.