Reborn in 7th centaury India with many talents

Around 710 A.D., Mandore (Current Rajasthan)

I slowly open my eyes. My vision is blurry, but I can make out the faint figure of a tired woman, breathing steadily, covered by a sheet. Beside her stands a midwife, draped in a sari-like cloth—a long piece of fabric wrapped around her body with a white gown beneath it, and a shawl tied across her chest.

The midwife smiles gently at the woman. "Congratulations, Rani-sa. It's a boy."

The woman looks at her newborn son with tenderness. "Give him to me," she says, her voice filled with love. "He looks so much like Beend-ji."

Just then, the doors open, and a tall man enters the room. "Sanyogita, how are you, dear? Are you alright?" he asks, rushing to her side. His voice is filled with concern. "Bai-sa, how is Rani (Queen)?"

The midwife replies with a reassuring smile. "Everything is fine, Maharaj. Both Rani-sa and the Rajkumar (prince) are safe."

The man exhales in relief. "Oh… Thank you, Rama," he says, his tone grateful.

I watch the man closely. He is dressed in a dhoti, wrapped around his waist and tucked in at the front, with a scarf draped over his upper body. Gold jewelry adorns his limbs, and he carries himself with an air of regality. His physique is muscular, and there is a regal presence about him.

This man is Maharaja Harishchandra Suryavanshi, ruler of Mandore. Under his rule lie vast regions such as Mathura, Gwalior, Kannauj, Mandsaur, Maitraka, Valabhi, and several smaller territories. In modern terms, his empire covers the entirety of Rajasthan, parts of Pakistan, Gujarat, New Delhi, as well as areas of Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh, and Punjab.

Harishchandra looks at his wife, his face filled with pride. "Dear, what do you wish to name him?"

Queen Sanyogita gazes lovingly at her newborn son, her eyes shining. "Maharaj, this is your first son, our first son. Please, give him a name."

The Maharaja looks at his son with affection, his gaze resolute. "He will be the future king of this empire," he declares. "He will defend our borders from the East, West, and South. His name will be… Harsha Sooryavanshi."

I look at my father, a proud and happy man, and then slowly drift into sleep, overwhelmed by the events around me.

Eight Months Later...

I am running through the garden of the royal palace, my small feet pounding against the grass. Behind me, three of my mother's maids chase after me, calling out in worry.

"Slow down, Prince! You'll hurt yourself!"

But I won't stop. "No! I want to see my father!" I call back, my excitement mounting.

One of the maids catches up to me, gently pulling me to a stop. "Prince, if you want to meet the King, you must speak to your mother first," she says, concern etched on her face. "Right now, the royal council is in session. The King is discussing state matters with the nobles, ministers, and army generals. You cannot go there in this state."

"But Father is always so busy! And when he does have time, he goes straight to the Second Queen. I have so many questions! I want to start my studies! I want to understand how Father manages the empire!" I protest, frustration creeping into my voice.

The maid sighs, shaking her head. "Alright, Prince. If you want answers, you must ask your father and mother. But as for your studies, you must first receive permission from your father. Also, your second mother, Rani Ratanavati, is pregnant. You should visit her and spend time with her when you can."

That Night...

King Harishchandra finally enters his chambers to meet his wife. "Dear, how are you?" he asks with genuine concern. "I am sorry I've been away for the past few months, unable to spend time with you and little Harsha."

Queen Sanyogita embraces him warmly. "It doesn't matter, my husband. How are you? I heard from the maids that there is a possibility of war. Who is trying to invade us this time? Will you be going to war?" she asks, her voice trembling with worry. "Please, don't forget Rani Ratanavati. She is also pregnant, and the news of war would be very harmful to her health."

King Harishchandra tries to calm his wife. "I know, dear. No, I am not going to war at this moment. I will be here when our new son or daughter is born. But you know, the Arabs from the West have been raiding our villages. After fighting with the local nobles, they retreat. But now, from the Gupta dynasty's time, a Muslim Caliphate is spreading. A very strong empire is emerging, establishing territories based on religion. They are slowly conquering parts of Sindh."

Queen Sanyogita grows even more anxious. "Our kingdom is surrounded—on the West, we face the Arab invaders; to the South, the Rashtrakuta Empire is expanding; and to the East, I hear the Pala Empire is conquering new territories."

Suddenly, I speak up from the side, my young voice clear and inquisitive. "Father, which territories do we share a border with between the Rashtrakuta Empire and the Pala Empire?"

King Harishchandra looks at me in surprise. "Harsha, why are you awake so late? Why are you asking about all of this?"

I look at him, determined. "Father, I want to help you. I want to understand how you rule and how the royal council works. I want to learn."

Harishchandra stares at me, surprised by my maturity for my age. He had never anticipated his young son would be so sharp and perceptive.

He lifts me into his arms, a soft smile on his face. "Very well, Harsha. But first, you must complete your studies with the royal teachers and the Rajpurohit (royal priest). Once you are done, I will assign you some responsibilities."

End of Chapter 3

To be continued...