Chapter 4: Vanargram and the Saptarishi Sainik

The monsoon wind carried the scent of wet earth and frying pakoras from the Vanargram square, while temple bells clanged in the distance. Rohan landed with a thump in front of Jalpravesh Gufa, shaking rain from his fur as excited vanaras mobbed him. Children cheered, elders blessed him with tilak and rice, and agarbatti smoke curled through the cave, mingling with the earthy smell of wet stone.

Rohan’s homecoming was festive—roasted peanuts, jaggery, and songs around the evening fire. The old matriarchs scolded the young for jungle mischief, and Pandit Chatterjee organized a small Hanumanji puja. Yet, Rohan listened with a bemused smile, aware how much his perspective had changed.

In the old script, he would have settled scores, formed a brotherhood with six demon kings, and drawn Indra’s wrath. The stories were retold with dholak beats and laughter, but Rohan now preferred solitude—meditating, refining ayurvedic pills, and tending the sacred fire. Unless challenged, he stayed hidden, famous for patience: “If you want to fight, come to the cave.”

The demon kings tried their tricks—one arrived with an elaborate mithai box as a bribe, another flattered him in clumsy Sanskrit. Rohan’s skepticism shone through as he deflected their advances with polite smiles and sharp wit. He recalled the forum’s roasting: “Saptarishi Sainik—Only good for free meals!”

He soon realized these kings were less rivals and more freeloaders, disturbing his sadhana but offering no real help. It was the familiar Indian story of guests who never leave; Rohan learned to be courteous but kept his heart guarded, Dadi’s voice echoing, “Meetha bolo, sab jeet tumhari.”

He suspected an invisible hand was at play—game balance, just as the forum warned. He drew up new plans in the quiet of the cave, ready to adapt and play the long game. This time, he would not be distracted or led astray. He would be both courteous and cautious, never letting his guard down.

As the moonlight filtered into Jalpravesh Gufa, Rohan’s resolve hardened. The real quest was only beginning—and this time, he would write his own legend.