I... Am... The... Universe...!

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In the soft flicker of candlelight, Amar Khanna's excited fingers turned the old pages of ancient texts. His eyes shone with a searing passion. 

Amar was like a modern Indiana Jones – a historian and archaeologist who sought stories hidden in old pages found in dangerous ruins. 

"Myths and legends sure can be found in history," Amar thought aloud, his voice a passionate tune in the quiet ruin. 

He always loved these tales, a modern storyteller reveling in ancient stories. 

But among the legends, there was one name that captured Amar's imagination like a mesmerizing song – Ekalavya, the great and unspoken archer from the Mahabharata era. 

Amar's heart raced as he traced the words that revealed the story of a young man's unwavering commitment, a commitment that transcended time itself. 

With every word he read, Amar felt Ekalavya's story become a part of him, like a drop merging into the ocean. 

The young archer's steadfast dedication and unbreakable spirit resonated with Amar's own thirst for knowledge from ancient times. 

The poignant beauty of Ekalavya's tale unfolded before him, lighting a passionate flame within Amar's soul. 

He saw a reflection of himself in the struggles and dreams of the young archer, a mirror stretching across the ages.

"Your story truly goes beyond mere words on paper," Amar clicked his tongue in admiration, his voice carrying a blend of respect and awe. "It's something I can only dream of witnessing with my own eyes—a true hero of ancient times." 

Before he could delve deeper into the ancient story, the cave around him began to tremble. 

"Thummmp...!" 

"Oh no... I haven't finished reading yet," Amar muttered, looking up and sensing the vibrations beneath his feet. 

"I won't abandon them here. I'll decipher the remaining words and read them later. But for now, let's escape!" Amar muttered, carefully placing the worn pages into a sturdy fiber box. 

"Boooomn...!" 

As the rumbling echoed, Amar dashed towards the exit, and the cave walls began to crumble, sending stones tumbling from above. 

Luckily, he had already moved away from that spot, but Amar continued to sprint, with sweat dripping from his forehead. Seeing how close he was to his demise, he quickened his pace even more hurriedly. 

"Damn it... looks like today's going to be my last day!" Despite his agile leaps and nimble dodges, even though he skillfully avoided the descending rocks, he was still getting injured by the splinters flying around. 

Fear for his life wasn't what drove him; instead, he feared losing the chance to read those forgotten ancient tales. 

"Thud... poof... cough... cough...!!" 

Amar stumbled over another stone, his attention diverted, and he crashed to the ground. Another large stone followed, smashing into him. 

"Crack...!!" 

The sound of bones breaking echoed in the cave as Amar coughed up blood, the pain searing through his back. 

"Damn it, this hurts like hell...!" Amar yelled in pain while clenching his teeth, feeling the scorching pain from his broken bone. 

"I guess I won't be able to read those ancient stories now... how regrettable....," Amar lamented, lying there with blood oozing from his wound. 

His back was broken, rendering him unable to walk, while the stones continued to taunt from above. 

"Sigh... my life, was it all worth it... I'm not sure!" He began to reflect on the life that he had lived so far.

As for why he admires Ekalavya instead of Arjun or Karna from the Mahabharata, it's because he feels a stronger connection to Ekalavya. 

Born in a small village and belonging to a low caste, he was kept away from the high-borns. 

He missed out on opportunities to lay the groundwork for his education, having to compensate for it after leaving the small village for the city. 

Working during the day and studying at night, even after college graduation, he couldn't secure jobs at big companies, often due to discrimination or seeing others favored right before his eyes. 

By a stroke of luck, he stumbled upon the Mahabharata in the old library, where the elderly librarian treated him without bias, teaching him how to decipher the ancient language. 

As he delved into the Mahabharata, he became engrossed in the historical figures and their poignant lives depicted within. 

"Ah... I can still recall that sense of familiarity," Amar mused, reminiscing about his encounter with his idol, Ekalavya. 

From then on, he resolved to become a historian and archaeologist. 

"Hahaha! Those were truly wonderful days!" he chuckled, recalling his travels around the world in search of historical records. 

Throughout his journey, he encountered numerous stories filled with awe-inspiring historical figures, each with their own astonishing tales that left him with nothing but admiration for them. 

While some stories left him shocked or filled with awe, he never truly felt a deep connection with them. 

One memory still lingered vividly: the time he was chased by a mischievous monkey in a forest. 

Intrigued by the monkey's antics, he spent a whole week evading its pursuit, hiding amidst the trees. 

It taught him a valuable lesson about not underestimating the determination of those who shared a passion for a common interest. 

"Cough... cough... poof...!" Amar coughed, spitting out blood. His body had lost all color, and the blood pooled beside him, trembling. 

"I... I'm feeling... cough... cough... fuzzy!" Amar's vision started to blur, followed by a gradual loss of hearing and sensation. 

Every sense abandoned him, as if he were adrift in a gentle current, carried along by the warm ocean waves.

Unknown time later,

Amar heard someone calling out to him, or perhaps asking him something. 

"Young one, do you still wish to fulfill that burning desire within you?" Clear words suddenly resonated in his ears. 

He clearly realized that his senses had left him—no sense of touch, or feel, or any kind of sensation—and yet he could somehow hear this voice, making him wonder what or who the voice was coming from. 

"Yes, if possible, I want to!" Amar replied unconsciously, even though he couldn't comprehend the origin of the voice. 

A sense of warmth and familiarity compelled him to utter these words. 

"Very well, I shall grant you the opportunity and bestow upon you a gift. Enjoy your newfound life this time!" The voice conveyed permission or something akin to it, though Amar struggled to fully grasp its meaning. 

"May I ask who you are?" Amar Khanna inquired, filled with wonder and, most importantly, hope that whoever the voice belonged to was telling him the truth. 

But then he started to consider the possibility that this might be a test before his impending demise. 

"I... Am... The... Universe...!" Amar only managed to hear those loud and clear words directly in his head before his senses slipped away once more, accompanied by a sensation of being propelled within his own body.

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