“Chakar Baloch and the Elephant of Destiny

Chakar Baloch and the Elephant Sādhu
Chakarr Baloch, son of Muhammad Zulqarnain Khan, was a master archer whose skill was spoken of throughout the borderlands. He had joined the army of Mansoor-ul-Mulk as an ordinary soldier, but his unmatched archery soon earned him command over fifty bowmen. Fiercely loyal and unwavering in duty, Chakar spent most of his life guarding the empire’s frontier. When he occasionally received leave, he returned home to visit his aging parents. His greatest dream was to one day rise to the rank of a commander of a thousand archers.

One morning, a letter reached him on the frontier. His father was gravely ill. Chakar abandoned everything and rushed home. He managed only a few days of service before death claimed his father’s fragile life. Now, only his weak, elderly mother remained. His dream pulled him toward the battlefield, but his responsibilities tied him to home. The decision took no time—he resigned from the army and turned to farming.

His mother soon chose a bride for him, and Chakar married, hoping for a quiet, steady life. Time passed calmly until, after ten long years, Mansoor-ul-Mulk was blessed with a son. The entire kingdom erupted in celebration. Grand competitions were announced—races, wrestling, and, most importantly, archery.

The villagers encouraged Chakar to compete. After a few days of practice, his arrows once again struck the exact center of every target. Even the elders gasped at his accuracy. By the time he reached the third round, the entire region buzzed with his name.

That evening, as he walked home, a group of guards blocked his path. Their leader, Mir Tahir—the arrogant local official—dismounted from his horse.

“Chakar Baloch, your aim is extraordinary,” he said with a false smile.

Chakar knew immediately this was no friendly greeting.

“Say what you came to say,” Chakar replied, staring directly into his eyes.

Mir Tahir’s smile vanished. He pulled out a silk pouch stuffed with gold and tossed it toward him.
“Take this. It is far more than the prize money. Withdraw from the contest.”

“And if I refuse?” Chakar asked calmly.

“The consequences will be… unpleasant,” Mir Tahir hissed.

“I reject your offer,” Chakar answered fearlessly.

Mir Tahir glared at him, snapped his whip, and rode away.

The next day revealed the truth. Chakar’s final opponent was Mir Tahir’s nephew—the son of the powerful fifty-thousand-man commander, Mir Qasim. The young noble stood no chance; Chakar’s arrows cut through the air like lightning, and victory was his.

Mir Qasim himself approached, shook Chakar’s hand, and declared, “Every father wishes to see his son win, but true talent cannot be denied. I promised my boy a precious gift if he succeeded—but you, Chakar Baloch, have earned it instead.”

The villagers lifted Chakar onto their shoulders, eager to see the mysterious gift. Moments later, gasps filled the air. Mir Qasim had given him a gigantic African elephant.

“Take care of it,” Mir Qasim announced loudly. “And do not worry about its food—you will receive an annual allowance for its upkeep.”

Chakar did not want the beast, but refusing the gift would make Mir Qasim an enemy—an enemy he could not afford. So he brought the elephant home, naming him Sādhu.

But the troubles began immediately.

Each day, soldiers arrived, demanded proof of the elephant’s care, then raided Chakar’s fields—taking vegetables, fruits, and fodder for Sādhu. They scribbled fake accounts and promised payment “after a year,” yet destroyed everything in the process. Soon, Chakar’s entire farmland was ruined. Whenever he protested, they threatened him or mocked him for owning an animal he never wanted.

Only his old mother comforted him. “Patience,” she would say, stroking his head. “Sometimes a burden becomes a blessing.”

Months passed, and both man and beast grew attached. Sādhu understood Chakar’s gestures, allowed only him to come close, and even enjoyed playful splashing in the lake. Chakar learned to ride him—sometimes even standing on his back. The elephant became his silent friend.

Then one night the soldiers returned: “Mongols have attacked the eastern border. By order of Commander Mir Qasim, we are taking the elephant.”

But Sādhu refused to move. Even chains could not drag him. When a soldier jabbed a spear into his foot, Sādhu roared and bolted into the forest, dragging chains and men along.

Ten days passed with no sign of him.

Finally, Mir Qasim himself arrived at Chakar’s home. “Bring the elephant to the frontier,” he ordered, “or lose your land and your freedom.”

Chakar had no choice.

A month later he stood on the battlefield as Mir Qasim’s mahout, guiding Sādhu as Mongol forces thundered forward. When Mir Qasim ordered him to flee back toward the camp—an act that would break the army’s morale—Chakar refused. Enraged, Mir Qasim called him into his chariot. After a brief exchange, the soldiers saw the commander’s robe placed on Chakar’s body and Mir Qasim’s own clothes on Chakar’s. The cowardly general had fled, leaving Chakar disguised in his place.

Chakar mounted Sādhu and charged alone into the Mongol ranks. Arrows rained, swords slashed, but he stood on the elephant’s back, firing arrow after arrow. Inspired by the sight, the entire army surged forward with renewed spirit. The battle turned. The Mongols broke. Victory was theirs.

When Chakar finally dismounted, exhausted and bleeding, Sādhu collapsed beside him. Chakar threw himself onto the elephant’s side, weeping like a child.

When the truth reached Mansoor-ul-Mulk, he summoned Chakar. Mir Qasim was arrested for fleeing the battlefield. Chakar Baloch, whose courage had saved the kingdom, was promoted to Commander of Fifty Thousand.

Sādhu had arrived in Chakar’s life as a burden—
but left as a blessing for the entire nation.