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Exclusive excerpt from the trilogy’s finale

If you’re someone who shops from the mythological fiction aisle, you must’ve heard about the next big trilogy in the reading world, i.e. The Hidden Hindu series by author Akshat Gupta. Readers have been raving with reviews and waiting for the finale of the trilogy to be released and we’re pleased to inform you that it’s here! 

So, we decided to bring you an exclusive excerpt from the book. We promise you, once you start reading it, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

The Hidden Hindu by Akshat Gupta
The Hidden Hindu || Akshat Gupta

Hearing about Dr Batra’s lonely death, unheeded struggles, and how mercilessly he was thrown out of the submarine and into the unforgiving sea without a proper funeral broke Mrs Batra to the core. The last thread of hope of seeing her husband again was all she was clinging on to, but now, even that had snapped. Utterly devastated by the realisation, Mrs Batra asked Prithvi to leave and left the door open. Prithvi could feel her pain and knew that he could no way soothe her acute agony. He started to make his way out. 

‘Don’t you want to know what happened to those people who killed your beloved husband and why he was killed?’ asked Prithvi before stepping outside. 

Mrs Batra stood there for a silent moment, looking at Prithvi. She shut the door and Prithvi walked back to take his seat. She knew what her heart longed for, so she took her spot on the couch to hear how it all ended. Sensing that she was yearning to know more about Dr Batra’s assassins, Prithvi began narrating from where he had left. 

In the month of Jyeshth (May), when the whole world had come to a standstill due to Covid-19 and the death count was on a hike, stories of losses were painted all over social media, newspapers, and news channels. Optimism seemed to be dissipating as dark clouds of uncertainty fogged people’s lives. While the death toll from Covid-19 had crossed all estimations, headlines of other catastrophes began to make their rounds; the glorious and tranquil Mansarovar being overpowered by Rakshastaal; the destruction of Roopkund–the lake of skeletons; the Taj Mahal, one of the seven wonders of the world, suddenly turning black; and the overnight seize of the ghost village of Kuldhara. This series of unbelievable events was, connecting the dots automatically as the news read, ‘Mysterious phenomena clutching India adding to the miseries of Corona. Are these signs of Doom’s Day closing in?’  

A worried Ashwatthama sat in Gyanganj at Mount Kailash with his wounds still healing. He looked at Parshurama and Kripacharya’s still bodies as they remained trapped in Om’s subconscious mind. Next to them was Om lying unconscious after the battle of Kuldhara. When Ashwatthama asked Vedvyasa about Vrishkapi, he received another painful answer.  

‘Vrishkapi is on his deathbed. It’s just a matter of few hours before he gives up the fight for survival and leaves his body.’ 

‘I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if we have lost or won. I don’t know what I should be feeling right now,’ said Ashwatthama, consumed by his thoughts. 

Vedvyasa was about to say something but to their surprise, Kripacharya and Parshurama returned to their bodies from their astral state and stood up as normal as ever. Ashwatthama shot up to greet them.  

‘You’re back! How did you open that door?’ 

‘We didn’t have to. Something suddenly changed within Om and after that, there was no retaliation, no more tussle to trap us, and there wasn’t a door holding us back anymore,’ Parshurama replied, still wondering about the whys and hows.  

A confused Ashwatthama thought out loud, ‘But how could that be? Where’s the door gone?’ 

‘I destroyed it,’ came a voice from behind him. Ashwatthama turned in wonder, though he already knew who it was. It was Om who had also sat up but with a distant gaze. ‘There’s no barrier. No bridge. No door between me and my hidden past. Not anymore. I remember who I am,’ said Om, glancing at all four of them.  

‘Who are you?’ Kripacharya asked. 

Everybody’s intrigued stare was glued on Om. 

Om closed his eyes and took a deep breath, ‘I am Devdhwaja.’ 

‘But that can’t be! We checked and you don’t have the birthmark! How’s that even possible!’ Kripacharya said, trying to piece everything together around the new revelation. 

‘Hold on! I am confused. The birthmark of Devdhwaja that the immortals saw in Om’s memories was there on Nagendra’s foot and Om claimed to be Devdhwaja himself. So, who out of the two is Devdhwaja?’ asked Mrs Batra of Prithvi. 

Prithvi replied, ‘Both of them.’ 

‘You mean twins?’ asked Mrs Batra. 

‘No, they were not twins. They were the same person.’ 




Intrigued to read more? Get your copy of The Hidden Hindu 3. 

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