It is then inevitable that we must resist sword in hand and wage a relentless struggle to win back our political independence and to safeguard the honour of the ashes of our fathers and the temples of our gods. We must hence hasten first to propitiate the God of War, the Lord of Hosts, even as Indrajit did before he marched on to the battlefield, as the ‘Puranas’ tell us, to secure the unconquerable Chariot which he expected to appear forth out of the blazing Sacrificial Fire. True it is that Indrajit was foiled in his attempt to secure it b ecause unrighteous was his cause. But our cause is just, is righteous! We need not fear frustration. Even though we know that to fight for what we call Right does not unfailingly win though its inherent justificability or righteousness unless and until it is upheld by proportionate Might, even then to fight for our Right to the best of our might is in itself a heroic joy which fills the warrior with a divine intoxication.
Lit up the Sacrificial Fire then, for we must propitiate the Lord of Hosts, the God for War!
Dig the Sacrificial Fire-pit on the altar wider and wider, deeper and deeper! Well and good: Lo! The Fire of National Indignation is already bursting forth into flames! As the first sacramental rite, the Sankalpa, the declamatory vow, has already been proclaimed a hundred years ago as earli as the year 1757 A.D. So, as the first sacrificial offering, throw the Field of Plassey into the flaming pit!
Where is the Kohinoor of the Panjab? Here has Dalhousie himself offered to help us and brought it, snatching it away from its rightful owner the Khalsa of Guru Govindsingh! What sacrificial offering can be more igniting the hungry Fire than the Gem of “the purest ray serene”, this ancient historical emblem of IndianSovereignty? Throw then, the Kohinoor of Punjab in.
The next immediate offering must be Burma. So let its King Theeba be exiled and into this crackling Fire pit, throw in the kingdom of Burma too.
How do you forget the Throne of Shivaji himself? What is the good of its keeping rotting at Satara? We must respect the right of precedence due to it! Help us Oh, obliging Britania by doing your worst with your ravenous claws and relegating the kings there to the graves - where they might yet rule freely - bring here the Maratha throne quick! That the Fire of National indignation may get more and more fed, fat ad fierce, throw the throne of Satara in!
The Gadi of Nagpur by itself could be but a poor offering for such a wild, warlike God. Hence bring ye, with the Gadi all the empty palaces, elephants, horses and the very anees too, not only with their jewels, rudely robbed but with their shrieks and weepings and wailings and in this Sacrificial Blazing pit throw it all altogether!
Even though the flames are rising like huge columns leaping forth into the skies higher and higher yet they must be lit still more intensely and fiercely. So throw the lightning of Zansi in!
Ah! Hear you not now the rambling so deep, so roaring in the bowels of this blazing fire pit, this ‘Yadnya-Kund’? Surely some great explosive Revolutionary Birth is getting into line, form and figure! Feed up, Feed up the mighty sacrificial fire with anything and everything that is intensely combustible and at hand. So throw the Nabob of Oudh in! In with the Gadi of Tanjore! In witrh the Nabob of Arcot! Push in Raj Anguli, Sambalpur, all the Talukdars, Jahagirdars, Inamdars, Vatandars in fact all those who can affix a ‘Dar’ to their titles, depriving them of all their proprietary rights and possessions and making them all ‘Nadars’ -throw in, throw in!
And now has come to the time for Dum Dum! Hasten ye all, friends and foes, and bring all the new cartridges in millions from the Dum Dum type factories spread throughout India, dip them in cow’s blood, boil
them in pig’s fat and throw them into this all absorbing, all consuming Jaw of Fire! There, from the white-heat point the wild fire has risen to War-heat!
Dancing on the b lazing flames out of the Sacrificial fire pit, Behold, arises at last the presiding Deity, terrible to look at! Salutes innumerable to Thee, O Ward God, O Lord of Hosts! Under whose fierce insolence tyranny and injustice are ground and burnt to ashes, by the mighty hammer in whose hands the shackles of slavery get knocked down to pieces and Nations are set free and whose hundred and one red hot tongues are lolling out from hundred and one mouths athrist to lick up battlefulls of blood when loaded war clouds burst out on Nations fighting for life, for death, - that aspect of Thee, O spirit of War, O Har- the terrible! We contemplate, we worship! Be propitious! Wilt thou, O Lord, sharpen the edge of our sword and bless it with Victory?
“If not, perchance, with victory - with Vengeance will I bless your sword !! - yes vengeance, the force deterent, the Nemesis which tyranny dreads like death and which holds in the hollow of its hands the deeds of a Victory to come !!”