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Mahabalipran prophecy

Five Asian countries suffer their worst disaster in 40 years, with more than 3,000 deaths.

According to the latest report from the Associated Press, Indonesia was struck by its strongest earthquake in nearly 40 years on December 26. The powerful tsunami triggered by the earthquake swept across five Asian countries, causing at least 3,000 deaths, including 1,500 in Sri Lanka, 1,000 in India, 400 in Indonesia, 120 in Thailand, and 15 in Malaysia. Hundreds more are missing, and the death toll may rise.

China Daily website, December 26, 2004

An ancient city discovered underwater in India after tsunami.

The South Asian tsunami brought disaster, but also some unexpected discoveries—the ruins of an ancient underwater city.

The ancient underwater city of Mahabalipuram, located on the Indian coast, was one of the areas affected by the tsunami. After the tsunami, three stone structures near the town were exposed, each carved with intricate animal images. This was because the sand covering the structures was washed away after the tsunami. Satyamuti, a senior archaeologist at the Archaeological Institute of India, said these structures likely belong to this port city, which was built in the 7th century.

This ancient city, Mahabalipuram, has long been renowned for its ancient, intricately carved coastal temples. These ruins are a UNESCO World Heritage Site, attracting thousands of Hindu pilgrims and tourists annually. Early British travelogues also mention seven towers in the area, six of which are now submerged.

"After the tsunami, a bas-relief was exposed, seemingly part of the outer wall of a temple, or perhaps part of that ancient port city," Satyamuti told the Associated Press in a telephone interview from Madras. "Our excavation work will uncover more mysteries."

China News Service, February 19, 2005

In each entry, I begin with the news story. As a reporter for the Shanghai Morning Star, I've come across the events hidden behind these news stories. These stories are like vines; following them, I've touched upon the enormous and astonishing fruit hidden deep underground. So, I'll start with these news stories that everyone can find online, and, with some reservation, tell you stories you could never imagine.

There are two vines this time.

Today, no one living in the civilized world can be unaware of the first vine, and even a hundred years from now, many will likely remember this catastrophe. The second vine, however, is much weaker; it grew in the immense shadow of the former, a byproduct of this catastrophe, and perhaps not many will care about it.

I saw the ruins emerging from the sea on S. I've always paid attention to these kinds of archaeological discoveries with their ancient and mysterious aura, so I read the whole news article very carefully.

That's all. For a journalist, most news articles are skimmed over or just read the headline.

So of course I couldn't have imagined that this ruin would soon turn into a small vine, but what I touched along it wasn't fruit, but a key.

This key made me realize the first vine, and yes, it was more than just a calamity!

As I write these words, I already know everything. But I don't know what words to use to describe... the fruit of this truth—is it enormous, vast, or boundless?

I can only try to express this through comparison. Compared to this, the raging sea that swept across the human world is nothing, and to put it bluntly, insignificant.

negligible!

I'm willing to start from the beginning, and I hope you'll have some patience. Even the fiercest hurricane, at its very edge, can only slightly ruffle your clothes.

On the evening of December 26, 2004, I only learned about the tsunami that had shocked the world when I opened the news on D. Some time had already passed since the tsunami struck. It was a Sunday, and I hadn't gone to the newspaper office, so I found out late.

The data I saw then was the same as the first news item I listed above: over three thousand deaths. That was enough to make me stare at the screen for over ten seconds. In recent years, earthquakes, hurricanes, and floods in the generally civilized world are considered major disasters if the death toll reaches three digits, but this time it was three thousand. Two months later, that number rose to three hundred thousand.

This disaster, which made humanity realize its own insignificance once again, gave me a free overseas trip in the spring of 2005.

To revive the domestic tourism economy, which was severely impacted by the tsunami, the Indian government organized a ten-day trip to India for journalists from major Chinese newspapers, hoping they would write more articles to promote the recovery of the tourism industry. The trip offered several routes with limited options. This limited selection meant that some routes wouldn't be overcrowded with journalists while others would be deserted; the aim was to promote domestic tourism while maintaining a balance.

The travel reporter couldn't cover the area for that long, so he reluctantly handed the opportunity over to the newspaper. The leadership decided to send a reporter from the newspaper's busiest department, the mobile communications department, as a reward through the Indian government. As for the piece of writing to be submitted upon his return, it would be a sycophantic piece—something any reporter could do.

This coveted job ultimately fell to me. Although I wanted to say it was because I was the most hardworking and meritorious member of the Mobile Department and deserved the most respect, it was actually just because I was lucky and drew the slip of paper that said "Indian".

Unlike regular tours, this trip offers over a dozen routes, each visiting only one or two scenic spots. The Indian tourism authorities want us journalists to write in-depth and thorough reports about the places we visit, rather than just giving a superficial overview.

I chose Mahabalipuram. Actually, many places in India are very attractive to me, having never been there before, but the ruins that appeared in the receding sea a few days ago made the final decision for me.

I know that the words "mysterious" and "puzzle" used to describe the ruins in those reports were just to make the news more interesting, but my incurable fascination with the mysterious means that even this little bit of provocation is enough for me.

On February 23, I and a group of journalists boarded a flight at Shanghai Pudong International Airport to New Delhi, the capital of India. In New Delhi, we would transfer according to our respective chosen travel routes. My companion was Wang Qiang, a travel editor in her thirties from the Yangtze Evening Post. She was a colleague I had never met before and was not very enthusiastic. She was basically asleep on the plane.

After transferring in Madras from New Delhi, our Indian escort at the Madras airport was named Nikola. This slightly overweight, dark-skinned man spoke fluent but not standard English. Since my English is neither fluent nor standard, communication was quite difficult. Incidentally, Wang Qiang's English seemed even worse than mine, so I, the next worst, had to embarrass myself.

We will spend a day in the port city of Madras, and then drive to Mahabalipuram the following evening. Nikolai asked us why we chose Mahabalipuram. Wang Qiang's reason was that she had seen beautiful photos taken by a friend, while I told her about the ruins that were originally buried deep in the sea.

My reasoning surprised Nikolai. He hesitated for a moment, then reminded me that there were some rumors circulating among the local people about the ruins, and he hoped we would ignore them.

Of course I knew the meaning of "individual" in such an official context, so I asked Nikolai for details.

“The newly exposed inscriptions on the stone have led to misinterpretations by the public. Some people believe that the person who carved these words more than a thousand years ago predicted the upcoming tsunami, thus generating unnecessary emotions, which is utterly absurd,” Nikolai said.

My eyebrows twitched. Was it a prophecy? Nikolai didn't elaborate, perhaps unwilling or not fully aware of the details himself. I didn't know how much of it was true; it sounded absurd, but if it were just a rumor, it had even alarmed the government.

Before learning the actual situation, I didn't think too deeply about it. I only had a strong expectation for Mahabalipuram, so much so that when I was sightseeing in Madras, I was oblivious to the beautiful harbor and my enthusiasm for taking pictures was far less than that of Wang Zhaojun. Madras certainly experienced a tsunami, but the facilities in this port city are much more robust than those in ordinary tourist attractions; at least I didn't see any traces of the tsunami.

The next day, after a cheap seafood feast at a seaside restaurant in Madras, Nicola drove us to Mahabalipuram in a Ford. Wang Qiang was still complaining that we should have stayed in Madras for another day, but I, who was pretending to doze off in the back seat, was actually impatient to get there.

Our hotel is called Quality Inn Mgm Beach Resort, which is roughly a four-star hotel. Nicola will give us a tour of Mahabalipuram early the next morning, introducing us to the local tourism industry. He might also give me a press release, and then his job will be done. If we don't have any special needs, we can spend our eight-day holiday quietly in this small town.

Wang Qiang didn't want to go clubbing with me; she wanted to go to bed early to conserve her energy for tomorrow. The charm of a city can't be appreciated just by looking at the scenery, and of course, I wouldn't say that to Wang Qiang, whom I'd just met. I noted down the hotel's name and address, grabbed a backpack, and headed out.

Mahabalipuram isn't very big. For travelers like us, the only places worth visiting in the evening are the few bar streets and surrounding neighborhoods not far from the hotel, where there are many interesting little shops.

Although tourist facilities in Mahabalipuram have reopened, there are still very few tourists. Otherwise, the Indian government wouldn't have invited us here. The bars, which should be bustling with activity during peak season, are now quite deserted, mostly frequented by locals. I hardly saw any tourists on the streets. You can tell if someone is a tourist just by looking at their clothes.

I walked slowly down the street, intending to wait until my legs got tired before finding a bar to sit in. But at some point, I suddenly had a bad feeling.

I don't know if this feeling I often have counts as a sixth sense. Every time this feeling arises, it's because there's something around me that I should pay attention to, but I've overlooked. I once discussed this issue specifically with Liang Yingwu. It seems my subconscious is aware of it, but my conscious thinking hasn't caught up. The subconscious and the brain are closely related, both belonging to what humans can barely call...

A field I only have a superficial understanding of.

I scanned my surroundings again and finally focused my attention on a person walking slightly ahead of me.

This man was dressed like a local, and perhaps because of the darkness, his skin looked quite dark. Here, tourists and women tend to attract my attention more, but this man, like many other local men around me, was automatically ignored by my senses.

But now, a chill ran down my spine.

Because his back view looked a lot like one of my friends.

That friend is dead.

I followed him slowly, keeping a distance. I longed to hurry up and see his face, but I was also afraid. My friend had died right in front of me, a gruesome death.

He turned into a bar, and I stood at the bar entrance, staring at the flashing strip lights for three seconds before following him inside.

There were four or five other customers in the bar, but that person wasn't there. I thought for a moment and asked the bartender if he had seen the person who had just come in.

The bartender pointed deeper into the bar.

I walked in the direction he pointed, and there was a slightly ajar door. Behind the door was a small alley, which was the back entrance of the bar.

I had just taken one step when I was immediately punched hard in the stomach, then the world spun around me and I was slammed to the ground.

"Who are you, and why are you following me?" the man asked in a low voice in English.

My face was pressed to the ground, my lips were bleeding from being hit by teeth, and my stomach was still convulsing violently, but I knew the situation was terrible and I had to explain things quickly, or who knows what would happen.

I endured the pain and tried to say, "It's a misunderstanding. From behind, you look like a friend of mine." I really wanted to explain more, but my English was too poor, and I forgot many words in my haste.

"Friends? What friends?" His tone was dismissive, clearly indicating that he didn't believe it.

I cursed my damn sixth sense inwardly; it seemed I'd messed with the underworld.

“My friend in China, named Wei Xian, is dead. Your back looks like his, which I find very strange…” I struggled to organize my English words, and when I said “Wei Xian,” the hand on my neck trembled.

"May I have your name?"

Suddenly I heard familiar Mandarin. Was he Chinese?

"Na Duo, my name is Na Duo."

The hand that was gripping my neck loosened, and I struggled to my feet, clutching my stomach as I looked up. The person opposite me stood in the shadows, the light from the bar subtly illuminating his right cheek.

I took a sudden step back. What's going on? Has the dead come back to life?

For a moment, I really thought that Wei Xian, who jumped from the 18th floor of the Shanghai Hilton Hotel more than half a year ago, had come back to life (see Na Duo's Supernatural Notes: The Ghost Flag). However, remembering what Wei Xian had once told me, I realized that the person in front of me must be Wei Xian's younger brother, whom he had been trying to surpass.

"Nice to meet you, I am Empress Wei." The half-young face opposite me showed an embarrassed smile and extended my hand.

Back at the bar, sitting in a private room, Wei Hou was still apologizing to me. He hadn't been gentle with his blows; my stomach was still hurting.

"I've heard my fourth uncle talk about you. He speaks very highly of you. Thank you for taking care of my brother. I'm really sorry about what happened earlier."

I need to add some information about Wei Hou's profession. He, along with the deceased Wei Xian and the vast family behind him, engaged in an ancient trade—tomb raiding. They called themselves witnesses to history. Indeed, based on my understanding of Wei Xian, they surpassed many scholars who spent their days in their studies in certain areas. Wei Hou was widely recognized within his profession as the most outstanding of the younger generation.

After the "Ghost Flag Incident," Wei Bu Hui, the most senior member of the Wei family, declared that I was a friend of the Wei family. Therefore, the Empress Wei, who had given me a rude awakening upon our first meeting, was extremely apologetic and answered all my questions.

He was indeed after the newly discovered ruins, which was the answer I had guessed, but it gave me another layer of doubt.

A newly discovered site might certainly yield some valuable artifacts. But Wei Hou was no ordinary petty thief; by any measure, he could be considered a master thief, and a thief with extremely high self-esteem. Why would such a site pique his interest?

Unless he knows something about this ruin.

As I thought this to myself, my response was a beat too slow. Empress Wei smiled and took the initiative to recount a story.

“There was a great figure from India who died more than two thousand years ago. I have read some of his writings. He mentioned that he once visited a seaside tribe and met a god who had lived there for more than a hundred years…” At this point, Queen Wei hesitated slightly: “He had lived there for more than a hundred years, but when he arrived at the tribe, the god had already died. The tribe’s elders told him that before the god died, he made a divine object, and that divine object was buried with the god forever in the temple.”

"That temple is my target," Queen Wei said frankly after a pause.

I can guess how Queen Viktor came to know the records of that great Indian figure from over two thousand years ago. Queen Viktor's statement implies he's basically certain the ruins that appeared belong to the tribe mentioned in the records. But his mention of "gods" made me frown.

"When you say 'god,' are you referring to someone like a prophet?"

In times of ignorance, prophets often appeared. They might genuinely possess prophetic abilities, or simply have keen insight, or be just lucky. Prophets held a high position within the tribe, usually second only to the gods, serving as their representatives. But gods… I've never heard of any folk tale where a god truly lived in a tribe for over a hundred years, only to die in the end. Could that still be considered a god?

"Prophets don't live that long, but this is only my side of the story. For things from such a distant era, we usually only have one side of the story."

"What does a god do?"

Those who are usually called gods always have their own domains, just as Venus is associated with love and Apollo with the sun. My question was somewhat ambiguous, but Queen Vess still understood what I was asking.

"He is the god of wisdom, and it is said that he brought wisdom to the tribe."

Regarding this suddenly appearing deity, although I have no experience to draw upon, having read a lot of Ni Kuang's science fiction novels, I immediately realized that this was a very clichéd plot of aliens visiting Earth. The aliens who came to Earth found that their spacecraft was broken, so they had no choice but to live with the locals until their deaths. During this time, they taught the locals some basic knowledge, and thus became the god of wisdom.

It may be a cliché, but if it's true, I'm still quite curious about that divine artifact he created before he died.

"By the way, I saw in the report that the ruins are 1,300 years old, how come you said it's more than 2,000 years old?"

Queen Wei smiled slightly: "Mahabalipuram is also known as the City of Seven Temples. Legend has it that there were originally seven temples here, but now you can only see one; the others have sunk to the bottom of the sea. So, when the tide receded and the ruins appeared, they were naturally assumed to be one of the temples that were submerged. It is generally believed that only during the Pallava dynasty, only the Pallava kings had the resources to build such grand temples and stone sculptures in coastal towns. Mahabalipuram was once the capital city of the Kingdom of Concepuram. Hopefully, the archaeologists have already discovered the truth, but then they will face another problem: who had the resources to build these? Hehe, in the documents I've read, the huge stone sculptures are all the work of that god. I hope his final work isn't too large, otherwise I'll have to leave empty-handed."

To make the correct judgment before orthodox Indian archaeologists, this young "historical witness" truly lives up to his reputation as a genius.

"I heard that the residents here found some incredible words on the ruins, which are related to this tsunami?" I remembered what Nikolai had told me.

Queen Wei then put away the smile that had been on her lips: "On the stone carvings that have already appeared, there are many places with Pali inscriptions. It is truly astonishing that there is an old man in this town who knows this ancient script. The most frequently appearing phrase translates to, 'When you see all this again, you will have experienced a great disaster. Follow in my footsteps, and I hope you can understand this world.'"

"This is truly unbelievable! Was the old man's translation accurate? As far as I know, there are very few experts who understand Pali these days." If Nikolai hadn't given me a heads-up, I might have jumped up right now. How could someone have predicted this tsunami more than two thousand years ago! Even if he was an alien.

“I’ve seen it, and that’s exactly what it means.”

Queen Wei also knew Pali? However, my surprise at his erudition was immediately overshadowed by the shock brought by the prophecy from more than two thousand years ago.

"You want us to understand this world? Through a tsunami? That's unbelievable." I muttered to myself, while the guard opposite me...