Reborn In 17th century India with Black Technology

Chapter 83: Kochi Massacre Part:2

"Yes, sir."

Soon, amid the wary gazes of the locals, a thousand well-dressed Dutchmen were seen carrying some sort of tubes, lining up along the coastline in a neat formation. However, the locals were bewildered by their unfamiliar weaponry. They hesitated, with a few among them skeptical of the tubes. But these doubters were a minority, and their caution wasn't shared by the majority. The indigenous people didn't wait for the Dutch to act. "For freedom!" they rushed forward, screaming at the top of their lungs, swinging their swords and spears. The momentum reached its peak as the tsunami of the mob came crashing towards the Dutch.

But they were in for a shocking surprise. The Dutchmen finally finished preparing their weapons, inserted something into the tubes and pointed them at their assailants. The locals couldn't comprehend the nature of these strange weapons. In the next moment, without heeding the danger, the front-runners heard a deafening bang. Before they could react, their bodies were pierced by some projectiles, causing severe bleeding wounds. They fell in excruciating pain, not even comprehending what had hit them.

Due to the momentum, many of them were even trampled to death by the panicked crowd.

By the time the crowd understood what was happening, many of them lay lifeless.

Observing the scene, General Carol was amused as he mocked, "Look at these animals, charging at us as if they could achieve something. Look at them now, dropping like flies."

"Let us give them a taste of our new cannon, shall we?" the general suggested to the captain, rubbing his hands eager to try.

The captain eagerly and happily agreed. He had wanted to ask this question earlier but had been apprehensive about possibly offending the general. Now it seemed like his problems were solved. "Ready the big gun," he ordered with excitement evident in hs eyes.

The assistant on the bridge prepared the cannon, which was then aimed toward the densest area of people and loaded with a massive iron ball, roughly the size of a head.

With the captain's instructions, the cannon was fired, unleashing a tremendous explosion that sent shockwaves across the deck. The operator was knocked several steps back due to the recoil, and the cannon discharged its deadly payload.

It was a gruesome scene below, as limbs, blood, and brains were strewn in every direction. The projectile had created a horrifying massacre of flesh.

The two Dutch leaders watched the devastation with grim satisfaction. The general commanded, "Clean up this mess and report to me immediately."

More Dutch soldiers disembarked from the transport ships, spreading out across the port to locate and eliminate any remaining resistance.

Far in the distance, Lingeshwara Acharya cowered in the corner of the Ram temple as he survived the massacre. He had positioned himself towards the back of the crowd, and this fortunate location allowed him to escape the initial onslaught. The horrifying efficiency of the Dutch had left him consumed by fear. He had never witnessed people falling like flies even before they could make an attempt to have a melee fight.

His body trembled with fear as he closed his eyes, folding his hands in namaste, praying to Lord Rama's idol beside him. "Lord, please save me. Lord, please save me."

As he muttered these words robotically, a complicated expression crossed his face as he remembered all the evil deeds he had committed. He had snatched away people's lands, killed indiscriminately, amassed wealth on a large scale, and even stolen ornaments from the local temple. Thinking about his own actions and the fate of his comrades, he came to a powerful realization. While looking at the idol's face, he felt as if thunder had struck his brain, as though the Lord himself had uttered these words.

"???????????? ???, ???????? ????? ??

???? ???? ????????????, ??? ???? ???? ??????

acodyamānāni yathā, pu?pā?i phalāni ca?

sva? kāla? nātivartante, tathā karma purā k?tam?

As flowers and fruits are seen at due time and they never violate their time,

like the same way karma will show their good or bad results.

It means everyone must reap the fruits of his deeds."

This sentence repeatedly occupied his mind as he saw the figure of Lord Ram in the corner of his eyes. Suddenly, the door of the garba gudi was blasted open by a group of white men who barged inside wearing shoes. They first looked around the room, noting the idol, and proceeded to loot all the ornaments adorning it. Finally, they spotted a person who appeared to have given up on life – it was Lingeshwara. They forcefully dragged him out of the garba gudi by his neck, his body scraping across the rough ground.

Lingeshwara didn't utter a word as he kept looking at the figure of Lord Ram as he was dragged back , he kept on muttering, "So, my time has come. My time has come, my time has come."

The white men finally dragged him to an open space, pointing their guns at him. They were surprised by the fearlessness in the man's eyes. He stared manically and kept repeating some strange words. His eyes held a rare chill, as if detached from this mortal world. The soldiers were stunned by this, but they quickly regained their composure. Paying no heed to his words and eerie demeanour, they pulled the triggers.

With that, Lingeshwara's end came swiftly as darkness overtook him. In his final moments, he managed to utter a few chilling last words, "My time has come, and yours won't be long."

Upon hearing the news of the successful takeover of Kochi, the general was very satisfied. He organized a huge banquet to celebrate the victory.

The soldiers, along with the general and his top officers, celebrated their victory with plenty of wine, rum, and beer, accompanied by music. The celebration seemed out of place, considering they were revelling among the ruins of bloodshed in Kochi.

The general, however, had a rare contemplative moment as he reviewed the battle's data. He was surprised that the casualties were limited to 40 people killed and 60 seriously injured, especially considering they were up against thousands of troops on this expedition. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that the victory had come too easily.

Despite his doubts, he pushed them aside as a beautiful woman brought to him from Lanka waited in a corner of the tent. The general seized her by the neck and dragged her to his room, with the soldiers jeering and the captain encouraging him.

Thus, the day ended with the Dutch emerging victorious. This tragic event from hereon would be known as the "Kochi Massacre" by future generations.