Ayushmann Mourya: The Rise

After spending an incredible day with my siblings, enjoying three hearty meals and their joyous company, I resolved to visit the Royal Archives the next morning. While the memories I had inherited from this body gave me a general understanding of the empire, they were far from sufficient. If I was going to rule this vast and seemingly prosperous empire, I needed a deeper understanding of this alternate reality. Leadership isn't built on instinct alone; it's built on knowledge.

The following morning, after a quick breakfast, I stepped into the royal carriage. It was a luxurious piece of craftsmanship, gilded with gold and adorned with intricate carvings. I was escorted by a contingent of royal guards, each mounted on magnificent horses that bore the insignia of the Mauryan Empire. As the carriage began its journey, I leaned back and gazed out the window.

What I saw left me awestruck.

The city was more developed than I had initially imagined. The streets were wide, neatly paved, and flanked by clean, orderly buildings. It was nothing like the medieval cities I had read about in my previous life. For one, there was no overpowering stench of sewage or waste. From the memories I had inherited, I knew that this was due to an advanced sewage system and the constant cleaning efforts of the city workers.

Another fascinating detail was the restriction on horse traffic in the central district. Only the royal family's horses were permitted here, which significantly reduced waste and noise. The city seemed efficient and alive, yet orderly—a testament to the empire's incredible administrative system.

What truly captivated me were the streetlights. Rows of oil lamps lined the streets, casting a warm, golden glow even in the early hours of the day. It gave the city a surreal charm, almost modern in its feel. As I marveled at their design, an idea struck me: what if I replaced these oil lamps with gas lights? It would be a major improvement—brighter, longer-lasting, and a mark of progress for the empire. I filed the thought away for later.

Lost in these musings, I hardly noticed the time passing. Soon enough, the carriage came to a halt. I looked up and saw the massive structure that was the Royal Archives.

The archives were a marvel of architecture. The building was octagonal in shape, crafted in the traditional ancient Indian style, and exuded an air of timelessness. At the entrance stood a grand statue of Saraswati Mata, the goddess of knowledge, holding a veena in one hand and a manuscript in the other. Her serene face seemed to bless all those who entered in pursuit of wisdom.

The structure itself spread across nearly a hectare and rose five stories high. Despite its impressive scale, what truly fascinated me was its history. The archives were nearly 2,000 years old, built during the early years of the Mauryan dynasty.

That's when the realization hit me: this was the Mauryan dynasty. The same one from my old world, predating even Jesus Christ. I, Ayushmann, was a direct descendant of Chandragupta Maurya and Ashoka the Great. The weight of that legacy was both exhilarating and overwhelming.

According to the Mauryan calendar, it was the year 2111 of the dynasty's rule. If my calculations were correct, that would make it around the year 1790 in the Gregorian calendar. That meant I was living in a world with muskets, cannons, and the up and coming Industrial Revolution. Part of me felt disappointed; I had fantasized about leading grand battles with swords, elephants, and war cries. But life, as they say, gives you lemons, and you make lemonade.

Stepping into the archives, I was greeted by an organized labyrinth of knowledge. The building was divided into sections by centuries, and each section was further categorized by decades. This meticulous organization made it easier to locate documents. The ground floor served as a public library, accessible to all citizens. It was filled with shelves upon shelves of books, and I decided to begin my search there.

Several Hours Later

By the time I left the archives, night had fallen. My carriage rolled through the streets of the city, which was now bathed in the soft, golden glow of oil streetlights. The sight was mesmerizing, almost magical. The lamps illuminated the clean streets and reflected off the polished stone buildings, giving the city an ethereal beauty.

But my mind was too preoccupied to fully appreciate the view. The discoveries I had made in the archives weighed heavily on me.

Ashoka the Great was not the man I had read about in my old world. Here, he had not renounced war after the conquest of Kalinga. Instead, he had doubled down on his campaigns, expanding the empire to unprecedented heights.

Under his rule, the empire stretched from Afghanistan and parts of Iran in the west to Sri Lanka in the south and all of Burma in the east. His conquests in the south were particularly brutal; he had not relied on vassals but had instead annexed the region outright after a bloody war.

But conquering this vast territory was only half the story. The true challenge was holding it together—and Ashoka had succeeded brilliantly.

He centralized power to an extreme degree, stripping nobles and religious leaders of their privileges. Brahmins and Buddhist missionaries who opposed the royal edicts were executed. Ashoka codified laws that elevated the royal family to divine status, using inscriptions and propaganda to solidify his control over the masses.

One of his most radical reforms was in education. Gurukuls were forced to accept students from all castes and classes, breaking centuries of discriminatory tradition. He also established a civil service system, where government officials were selected through a nationwide examination. This system bore a striking resemblance to the Chinese imperial exams, though it predated them by several centuries.

The archives also revealed a series of global conflicts involving the Mauryan Empire. There had been wars with the Romans and even the Chinese, conflicts on a scale I could hardly fathom.

But amidst all this information, one question gnawed at me: why? Why had Ashoka not renounced war after Kalinga, as he did in my old world? Where had he gotten these revolutionary ideas for governance and administration? The archives provided no clear answers.

By the time I reached the palace and retired to my room, my mind was spinning with possibilities. As I sat on my bed, staring at the intricately painted ceiling, I muttered to myself, "This is too much to process."

With that, I lay down, letting the exhaustion of the day overtake me. "I'll think about it tomorrow," I whispered as sleep finally claimed me.