The Chronicles of Shamballa

Chapter I : Sparks of Revolution

Awadh, India- British Raj, 1857

"Sahib! Sahib! They've broken the front gate, they are coming inside...What are we going to do Sahib?” cried out a shaken Ram Babu as he came running inside the room.

Prof. Carey was checking his notes one last time and stuffing his bag with all his journals.

"Fear not man, they still have to break into the building through the front door, which I can assure you, will take more than those men to break through," said the professor confidently.

But within the next few minutes they broke the door by slamming and shoving themselves upon it until the locks gave away. Carey and his valet now had less than ten minutes before they rushed upstairs towards his room- they’ve already entered the hall and were smashing everything that they could find. The few guards that were left had already fled for their lives and the entire government building was abandoned of the staff and other workers.

Professor Arthur Carey had been in India for around 16 months. He used to teach archaeology and symbolism in the Royal College of London but he left it all and came here to study the ancient monuments and relics. He was sponsored by a generous group of wealthy people who wanted to study the great culture of the ancient sub-continent or so he thought. But Carey being an idealist couldn’t turn down the offer of discovering unknown ancient history. His mission was to prove the existence of a mysterious place that was supposed to be a myth. But his studies were interrupted due to the outbreak of the revolution of the locals against the British. For the past few weeks, he has been working on deciphering a peculiar inscription that he found carved in a wall inside a cave. The carvings were strange with a mixture of the ancient language of Sanskrit and pictograms and an ancient un-deciphered dialect. He had the journal of one Madame Blavatsky with him but he was barely able to make any good use of it.

The professor assumed that the secrets were hidden in the journal and once he could interpret it properly, he would get clues on how to reach the city of Shamballa which was allegedly located in the freezing Himalayas- the place of the Yetis and Immortal monks...

But time was running out, he had only 6 months left on his contract to find the place and yet, until now, he had hardly found anything valuable- just scattered bits and pieces. The journal had led him to many random clues all over the country but each clue was a dead end and he was yet to find anything solid. And so for the past one and a half year, he had been going round and round collecting evidence about something called the Kalachakra Map- loosely translated- the Time Cycle map which would lead him to the mysterious land. But for now he had nothing to show except for some small and random clues. He was far from finding out the location of the map and maybe it would take him another year to find the location of this mysterious place...

The situation in India was getting worse each day. The British came to India about 200 years ago, after the Dutch, Portuguese and the Spanish. The foreigners came as businessmen and traders but gradually began to interfere in the politics of the local rulers trying to take over as much land as possible. After almost a hundred years, they had practically set up their own Colonial rule over the country and placed India under the direct rule of the crown.

Eventually, the locals began to rise up against the oppressive regime. Peasants and farmers took to arms along with a few brave kings and rulers- this period was a time of great turmoil in the country. The Colonial government however dealt with the rebels with brute force and made sure that their grip over the country’s administration always remained secure and they were willing to do anything necessary to keep it so...

Arthur, however, was there only for academic purposes, he was a knowledge seeker, he wanted to know the secrets of the ancients and personally he had no interest in the company’s endeavors (the colonial British Govt. was called The East India Company). Once he was seen arguing with the Governor of Punjab province and they had a heated debate, he believed that the Company was supposed to be a guest in the country, not its rulers...

"My God! These men have gone mad -Quick! Grab that bag and come with me," said the professor looking out of his window of the first floor only to see hundreds of bloodthirsty rebels with torches and sickles and swords in their hands, running across the great courtyard – the small contingent of guards stood no chance and were butchered immediately.

The two of them, hurried down the stairs and rushed out through the backdoor which led to a thick forest in the south.

"We are almost there Sahib! Once we reach the jungle they won't find us..." cried Ram Babu as he ran along with his master with the bags in his hands.

"Look out Sahib!" Ram Babu cried out.

Suddenly a man jumped out of nowhere blocking their path and drawing out a sword. He punched Carey in his face and began searching his bags. Ram Babu begged for mercy in the local language but they tied him to a tree and gagged his mouth with some cloth. Carey was still trying to recover from the blow. The goons overturned every paper and book in his bag, looking for something and when they didn’t find what they were looking for, they hurried back into the jungle.

“What’s- all this – peculiar business- ah! Who were those people! Wait- hold on- let me untie you-“said Carey untying Ram Babu and removing the gag from his mouth- he was trying to say something.

“Thuggees, Sahib! Thuggees! Bad people- they don’t understand mercy, and they never spare a white man’s life- they were looking for something-“replied Ram Babu, pale with fear.

“Ah- never heard of them, hand me my towel, it seems my nose is broken-“remarked Carey.

"Sahib! Are you ok?" asked Babu as he helped the professor.

"Ah! Yes...yes... I'm fine", replied Carey trying to recover from the pain.

He had lots of questions in his mind and these rapid turn of events made him realize that he had in his possession some very valuable object or maybe they think that he had. Nevertheless, they had to get out of that place. He quickly gathered his scattered belongings from the ground and instructed his scared assistant to follow him with the bags towards the commander's bungalow that lay a few miles across a small stream. He prayed it was fortified enough to fend off the attacks of the riots. He took one last look at his bungalow as flames burst out of its windows and drew a long breath. Both of them headed towards the jungle where a secluded path would lead them towards the outskirts of the village.

Professor Carey looked at his watch - it was 5:30 pm. The thick canopy of the forest gave away to less dense foliage ahead.

"There must be a crossing somewhere around here..." said the professor as he stumbled through the dark.

“Oh, not that place through that river, bad spirits at night Sahib, we don’t have a light,” said Ram Babu.

Carey paid no heed to his warnings. Ram was a loyal and faithful valet but too simple minded. He had served the British for almost twenty years now, a jolly old fellow, who was scared of the dark and never ventured alone in the night. He had a small talisman, which he wore around his neck, given to him by his father when he was young to ward off evil spirits, which he took out and began muttering some prayer.

Carey trusted the old guy but he had to make sure that he was following the correct path, for the jungles could be treacherous at night. The voice of the violent mob began to fade away as they ventured deeper into the forests, Carey, carefully holding on to his satchel and walking ahead with Ram following him closely.

Half an hour later, he heard the sound of flowing water right up ahead.

“This must be it, the Bungalow should be just over-“said Carey as he stopped and stared.

He could see the Bungalow of the Governor from afar that burst into flames, as cries of the rebels began echoing throughout the forest. The Bungalow was almost a kilometer from where he stood but he realized that his only hope of escape from this desperate situation had just been burnt to the ground. Ram Babu sighed in frustration and looked at his master for answers. The Rebels were everywhere, these were angry people, mad men out for blood of any man with white skin and if they ever found him then he would be skinned alive. He couldn’t stay in the jungle for long, they would eventually find him and there wasn’t any other place nearby that he would go for help. The telegraph office was on the opposite side of the forest but he presumed that even that had been burnt down by now. He put down his satchel and kneeled on the ground, Ram Babu sat beside him.

Suddenly he heard the sound of hooves accompanied by rapid gun fire. He stood up and looked, there was a British flag flying amongst the men, he saw some men in Khaki uniforms, his heart was filled with joy- it was the 33rd regiment of the British army in the province. Reinforcements had arrived, hundreds of soldiers began firing upon the rebels-who only wielded crude weapons. It was only a matter of minutes before the army completely subdued the rebels in and around the Bungalow. Some were caught, some were killed, and a few others ran right past Carey and his valet into the jungle, too scared for their lives. Carey drew a sigh of relief and quickly hurried towards the army. He knew Colonel Nottingham of the regiment and he hoped that he could help him out. The army chased the fleeing men into the jungle with the Colonel leading the chase. He saw Carey approaching him from the forests in the dark-

“Halt! Who goes there? Speak or we will open fire- Kaun hai waha pai-?” warned the Colonel speaking both in English and in the Native tongue.

“Fret Not Colonel, it is I- Carey, Arthur Carey- Professor of- ugh!” said Carey as he approached the Colonel and his men but stumbled and fell in the dark.

“Good god, Sir, You are alive, Quick men, help him!” said the Colonel and ordered his men as he sat upon his horse.

“Word came through that you were killed in the riot – your house was burned down-Oh thank heavens you are safe- and this is your trusted valet I presume?” asked the Colonel.

“Ah yes, yes, this is Ram Babu, my valet- I escaped Colonel, I escaped before they could get to me, thanks to him- Oh! I’ve never seen such bloodshed in my life, Oh my nose-“replied Carey as he went along with the Colonel and his men to safety.

Some twelve hours later, Prof Carey was on a train to another city, where it was much safer. The Colonel had rescued him earlier and help him with some food and new clothes and put him on a train to Calcutta with his valet. He suggested that the eastern side of the country was much safer- the central part was overflowing with rebels. Carey was supposed to meet the governor there, who would arrange for him a Bungalow where he could continue his research. Even though he didn’t like the idea of moving to a different place, he had but little choice, he needed the peace and quiet to continue his research, his sponsors were offering him a lot to find this so called ‘mysterious place’.

The previous night had quite a toll on him, he kept on thinking about the Thugs that heckled him in the forest. He couldn’t understand what it was that they were looking for, he had nothing of value with him but his research. Did they know that he was on a mission to uncover the lost city of Shamballa? How was this even possible? Only his sponsors knew about this but they were all back in London. No one, not even the government in India knew about his true purpose; they think that he is here to study the culture of the country and write some books. Nevertheless, he took out his notes and began studying them, Ram Babu brought him some tea.

“It’s always the same cryptic messages over and over again, I have been all around the country looking for the map but all I find is more clues which lead to other random clues-this is hopeless- I need to find another way- I cannot return the advance that the League sent me- I cannot give up, I was chosen to find this place and by Jove I shall find it!” Carey kept thinking as he flipped through the pages of his notebook...

But a strange thing happened as he was deciphering the ancient texts. His vision became blurry and his head felt light. He felt as if he was in a different world altogether. The letters on the texts seemed to be floating above his head. It felt like he knew what they meant but he could not recall no matter how hard he tried. Everything seemed so familiar and yet so strange…The long whistle of the train broke his trance all of a sudden and he was back to reality once again…