Shiva the barber was unperturbed. ‘There is no point in showing your anger. Raje is gone. Flown away! I got a chance to wear his clothes and pretend to be him for an hour. What else do I need. This is my reward.’ ‘Haramzaade!’ Siddi shouted again and plunged his sword into Shiva’s chest. Shiva’s face contorted with pain and he stumbled back. He steadied himself for a bit, holding a pillar inside the tent. He could not afford to show his back to the enemy. Even when he was acting like Shivaji he had to be one! He said, raising his hand to his forehead as he said, ‘Raje, ha maaza shevat cha muzra.’ It was his last salute to Raje. Shiva collapsed the next moment, dead.

When Shivaji has men like him, how could he not live up to their expectations

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Hljóðbók: 5 januari 2023