The metamorphosis of Chand Ashoka

Taimur Arbab December 14, 2012

Prologue: Empathising with Emperor Ashoka after the historical battle of Kalinga which had a substantial impact on Ashokas personal mores and conventions, which meant that the Maurayan empire began to change drastically from an empire of the sword, as most of the historical empires were, to an empire of the spirit. A title very few empires deserve to be remembered by throughout the annals of history. This account is of the thoughts of a man who was the initiator of such a diametric change. Who am I? Am I the glorious king who achieves victory in every battle; the fearless soul who has the audacity to wander in deaths crooked mazes and yet, has the boldness to come out jubilant, bathed in the glorious sunlight of yet another triumph? Am I solely the mighty Ashoka, who cornered the far-flung reaches of India, surpassed even the infallible Chandragupta in his achievements, whose name instils fear in every soul around the meanderings of the Ganges and its wide embankments, who is invincible in battle and astute in military strategy, under the blithe of gods whereby even the gods envy him and yet, who still feels not perennial but flimsy? Who am I? Am I chand Ashoka (evil Ashoka) as my restive and conquered subjects call me? Are my victories as sturdy as those mountains in Hindu Kush, of whom even time is fearful; or are they transient, fleeting moments in time on a constantly revolving wheel where they shall lie forgotten in the coming generations? Ah! The misery of human existence! Not even sure of his origins and he sets out to conquer the world; where lies the grief of a thousand made destitute and countless brought under the brunt of slavery. Also, how tragic is the human fate; my progeny shall rule upon the riches of India and they shall forget that Ashoka built this empire with his blood.

Where is the mystery if all is settled and decided upon? Who are those who lie trampled at my feet without the fire of life in the centre of their pupils? Where is the vanquished stand that resisted me for these eight long years? Where is that peace, of soul and the morsel within, which was bound to come by after the victory of Kalinga? Who am I? Yet, who am I? I am the victorious, indefatigable and the mighty Ashoka of average looks and super-human strength? Or a murderer, looter and ruthless commander of men; who is too engrossed in the admiration of his horses, his military might and his valiant soldiers to take a look at the green grass beneath, the star-studded heavens in the night, the glorious sun-rise or the song of the forlorn dove? Who am I? Some time ago, before the beginning of mighty Chandraguptas reign, another conqueror crossed India. He came sweeping away the lands of Parthia, Egypt and Mesopotamia on a wave of conquest and he defeated Porus at Panipat, thus including India in his vanquished domains. Nothing remains of him now. He died at a young age later on in Babylon and no one remembers him as a man of peace. He is dead and so are his war machines and his trail of conquests all fleeting, all transitory and superficial. What is constant? I used to think it was land, power, a powerful army and a splendid court which were a constant. Introspection or reflection did not appeal to me unless there was an urgent military strategy to be thought of or a new weapon to be tested and put in battle. I am Ashoka, grandson of Chandragupta, murderer of his own step-brothers, commander of a valiant band of soldiers who are famed for their ruthlessness, conqueror of Kalinga after years of terrific warfare. And yet, I still think I do not hold the answer to the question that has become a constant in my own conscience who am I? Am I different from the raring and domineering beast who dominates the weaklings in the animal kingdom through his panache for killing; the looter who loots the unsuspecting wayfarers on the Great Pilgrimage of Upanishads, the pirate who steals away the merchandise of traders or the devious fox who caught the innocent dove through pure strategy and trickery? In the life that I have lived up till now, I can sadly assert that I have been all of the above in various capacities. However, I shall change. I think about the great soul more often now. I feel a new sensation a new freedom and a new life. I am a human and I still have my soul intact, and although it has become obscure and injured with the passage of so many years under the cruel sun of self-obscurity, I will re-invigorate it. I will light the spark that illuminates my person and my soul. I will mend it with my own labours.

Who am I? I shall be the eternal pilgrim the pilgrim who is not alone in his pilgrimage but takes others along with him too, sheltering them from the cruel world of happenings, providing for them from his own food, comforting them through the ways of the enlightened one and thus, in the process of it all, ensuring his own completion of a soul. What do emperors achieve? Nothing. They leave behind a trail of slaughter and madness, only to be relegated to the scrolls of history where they are remembered as tyrants, usurpers and maniacs who fell in love with their own infallibility and believed their myth of invincibility to the core. I, Ashoka, will be different from Alexander or Darius or Chandragupta. My empire shall be an empire of soul where each man is looked upon as belonging to the same human family without a difference in caste, creed or religion. I shall protect the ascetics and the Brahmins from oppression but my protection shall extend to every individual of the empire, no matter how bleak his social stature may be. I shall make resting houses for the wayfarer who is torched by the wild sun on his travels and hospitals at the expense of the court treasury shall also be constructed. I shall ban the killing of animals for sacrifice and the cutting down of trees. Humans have a responsibility towards the abode in which they reside and where their lodge shall be for many coming millennia. I shall also stop festivities which have no relationship with human well-being except for those which are necessary for the religious rituals of people. All war shall be made history in my reign and I shall establish amicable relations with my neighbours. War is a scar on the human soul and I shall cleanse my scars with service to the people. I shall make the ways of the Gautama known to all by sending my emissaries to the courts of far away kingdoms. God is not an intangible and transcendental being. He lives in each one of us observing our ways of interaction with the world, the animals, other humans and every living soul. Yes, the universe has life; even the stones which we deem to be dead have consciousness. He observes and we falter most of the times. He cares not about hefty sacrifices, ornate rituals and symbols of worship; he cares for our humanity and our soul. If we can protect that, then the human is complete; he becomes the reflection of the Divine Majesty in the world of ours. Nirvana and the eight-fold path is just about that completion of the human soul and man becoming human on the realisation that he is His reflection for all the world to gaze at and take example from. I, Ashoka, shall become the complete human.

I shall change. No longer will my subjects entitle me with chand. I will change for the lowly beggar, the scorched traveller, the noble lady and the faithful sentry. I, Ashoka, shall have all my thoughts put into an edict. This edict shall remain after I am gone and I hope, also serve as a precedent for those who are to come after me. History is the best judge of all and I resign my memory to the scrolls of historians while I hope that in that resignation, people remember me for who I became rather than who I was. This life is fleeting and so is each one of us. Immortal is he who can live a thousand nights in a glorious parched desert and still dream of the tulip in the garden. From the beginning of my life, I was taken to be ugly by my own father Bindusara and posted at all the troubled regions of the empire. I was only taught the madness of war, and victory at the battlefield seemed to be the only truth. Kalinga has changed me and I shall change the world. I have power to do that and from now on, I shall use that authority to make a kingdom of peace on earth a kingdom where there is brotherhood of man and welfare for all. In this sacred hour of this sacred night, I dedicate my life and my existence to the ways of the Gautama. PS: Ashoka later came to be known as Dharm Ashoka (Ashoka the angel). His pillar survives in India demonstrating his humanity and serves as an important example from which lessons must be drawn by the protagonists of todays religions and politics. Read more by Taimur here.