The Rise of The Pistol

"What is that metal piece hanging in your neck, it's very beautiful can you give it to me," his younger brother asked him.

No, it's mine, I have found it he replied.

I was very happy because someone was praising me.

Despite knowing me he always keeps me with him only. One night he was sleeping in his cave. I was deflated under his stinking armpit. It smells like a dead mouse. He had never taken bath. His younger brother came in, holding a huge stone in his hands, and threw it on his head. His head was smashed like a watermelon. He holds me, pulled the rope. and ran away into the woods, as he was running over a mountain he was hit by an arrow and died on the spot.

A man on a horse came close to the body and checked if he is dead or alive.

Oh! No! He is dead,

I wanted him alive, he talked to himself.

Then he saw the pistol, that means me, and put me in his bag.

I found myself in a huge fort-type house made up of white stones. The beautiful architect was all over the walls. I can see the statues of different gods and goddesses, one I recognized was of Lord Shiva, which I had seen in Bollywood movies in my last birth. People were wearing silky cloth as trousers. Most people keep plain cloth around their necks. Ladies were wearing sarees a famous Indian dress. That means I am in India or some other country nearby. I was kept on a table-type structure made up of stones.

I have reincarnated as a wheellock pistol. With the combination of shining sparkling metal and wooden body, I looked fascinating.

Yes, a wheellock pistol, a limited edition pistol, and a beautiful invention of the era. It was the next major development in firearms technology after the matchlock and the first self-igniting firearm. Its name is from its rotating steel wheel to provide ignition. The wheellock works by spinning a spring-loaded steel wheel against a piece of pyrite to generate intense sparks, which ignite gunpowder in a pan, which flashes through a small touchhole to ignite the main charge in the firearm's barrel. The pyrite is clamped in vise jaws on a spring-loaded arm also called 'dog', which rests on the pan cover. When the trigger is pulled, the pan cover is opened, and the wheel is rotated, with the pyrite pressed into contact. It can be operated with one hand the only l. Then wheellock mechanisms were complex to make, making them relatively costly. Although people don't know that much about me be still fall in love with me as soon as they see me. All because of my looks.

The man we brought me was named Gajeetgara means 'the hunter of elephants'. He was a man of strength. As his name indicates he defeated many of his enemies who were stronger as elephants. Gajeetgara was a well-known personality in his town Hampi. Gajeetgara was best known for Kalaripayattu famous south Indian martial arts. He doesn't know what a wheellock pistol was. He doesn't know how to operate it. Still, he always keeps me with himself just because of my attractive looks. He always used to tie me with his waist. He was a man of honor. Once he was planed to meet his friend who was a great king of Northeast.

He started to the east with his horse Mudgal and me. Midway he stopped in a dense forest for rest and slept beside a river. When he got up, he found a tiger torn into two pieces. A man was standing nearby with all his hands and body wet with blood.

' Who are you? Have you killed this tiger? Why u killed him?' Gajeetegara asked the man.

'A am Bukka Reddy. I killed this tiger as he was about to attack you.' He answered.

Bukka Reddy a thin black man wearing only 'langot' ancient underwear. He had torn the tiger from his mouth. He was a man of techniques. Gajeetgara was so thankful to him and presented him his pistol which means he had presented me to him as he saved his life.

I was being transferred from one person to another since I was born.

I kept on thinking about what would be my future? Would someone can fire me ever? What will happen to me next? Who will be my master? I miss my previous birth. I miss my ship. My friends, Victor, suzen, Martin all. I miss my LMG. I miss my life. I was a living thing and now a none living thing. I can't do anything of my own. I was dependent on others now. I should have control over my life. I wanted my life back. I always kept thinking about all these things. It was ok that all mighty has given me birth as a pistol. But I think that I should have some power to use myself or God will give me some master who will make the best use out of me. I don't want to be a rusted weapon thrown in the garbage. I used to pray all that every time I was handled by a person

The Buka Reddy also don't know about me. He was not aware of any pistols. He thought it's some ornament and handed over it to his wife and handed it in her neck. By the time I had understood that It was reincarnated in past, the time was very few or nobody would be aware of weapons like me. I was searching for someone who will make the best use out of me and I will be doing the job for which I was made. I was born to kill. I kill by profession whether it's present or past. I want to do for what I was made. I always pray to you, Jesus to provide me someone who will do justice to me. I was in search of my master's.