SITA RAVAN SAMVADAM
India can have the pride of calling itself the oldest civilization of this world in more than many regards. It’s very recently that I found another ground. So far we have seen journalism as a western gift to its less developed eastern counterparts. They were more liberal than us to allow secular and truth speaking journalism. But a recent recording that I found while rambling through the old archives of my great grandfather’s library has changed this perception, at least for me. People used to say that he had some magic devices. But they also blamed him for selling his soul to the evil forces. I was least concerned with all these. In fact I had lost my last wife’s letters (we are very recently divorced) and suspected that my new wife could have dumped them with those cockroach-infected scraps. My ex wife wrote in Hindi, my granda wrote in Sanskrit and my new wife writes in English. She does not know devnagri script and therefore for her all devnagri is the same alien scrap. It was during this search operation that I found this audio recording. It was labeled as SECRET. I was really curious to know this secret. I thought it to be my granda’s secret confessions of his extra marital relations or some steaming love scene. I had to buy a new audio system that could play that antique recording. Honestly it cost me a fortune to get that cassette played. It began with a typical Bollywood declaration and I got turned off. But the coming line was just like some sting operation and I became all attentive. I thought to make as many copies as possible because that audio could have been played only once. I took a pen and copy to jot it down. It began:
All the characters, locations and whatever the rest are fictional and have no conscious relation with any dead or living or imagined. Any such relation, even if imagined, will be foolish on the part of the person who notices it. Thank you.
A SUVALMIKI CREATION
SITA RAVAN SAMVADAM
(Ashok vatika. All the romantic flowers are there but not as important to be privileged over this divine dialogue between Sita and Ravan. A woman sitting under a tree and a hunk sort of man is talking to her. Many other women are standing beside him. I am just coming there. Not every journalist gets this opportunity to record a history in its making. I know it will sell for millions. And if some godly parties wish, even for more. I am here and now it goes.)
Ravan : this self torture is not getting you anything. My dear Sitey, why don’t you understand? I cannot bear this sight. The ivory carved body of yours is gradually melting down in hands of this rasviheen kal. Don’t be so ruthless with yourself. See this tamed lover is dying to hear just a single word from you. Just a single word of love. And you are so callous as not to grant even that.
Sita : and it is a single word Ravan , is not it? I can see what you wish me to speak. You want to hear “priyatam” and later it should be “swami”. I hope I have not misunderstood you. Any way, you are just the old type and a new face. I got you through your type.
And then I will have to lie where you wish me to. You will undress me and explore the contours with a victor’s gait. Hurrying along some lines and pausing at some points. Sometimes when you have got others beside me, I may be supposed to perform your hands on my body by myself and give your gazing eyes just another type of pleasure and satisfaction.
Ravan : sitey…
Sita : let me finish now. You wanted a word na. I am not dumb Ravan. I just did not feel like answering your fooling around. You want me to accept this heaven which lies at your feet. and look at your shoes which have led your to several such conquests. You got me by…
Ravan ( in a proud tone): it was not trickery in the way you term it. I defeated your husband in a contest of planning and you are my prize. I …
Sita (in a disdainful tone): I have got nothing to do with your planning contest or whatever. Subterfuge as wisdom in practice. You will love to have this sort of terming. Isn’t it? But what have I to accept or to refute? Practically nothing. I rule in a virtual world which , in fact, makes me to compromise in this real practical world. I am promised the future of a goddess or something equally divine. And I should be happy and content with that. A bow was broken and I was conquered. Curious I was for that magic stick but a painful encounter shook my faith. Bettering of the things was held as a promise and I retained myself at the seventh height. God knows what those promises could have been but a single episode changed the entire course. My father- in -law kept his manly vow and my husband was exiled. My step saas did whatever was within her capacity to secure the throne for her own son. And my husband took another vow. He will maintain brahmacharya during the exile. That night my maid cum friend had taught me
“Secret art of how to love longer;
Where to rush and where to linger.”
( Sita was pretty lost in her thought and time recollection and it became a sort of internal monologue with the only exception that it was aloud. Ravan too looked sympathetic and came closer. His eyes were lingering on her cleavage as it was exposed by the wind that carried away her aanchal. Sita was too lost to notice all this as she was rambling through her devastated memory lane, collecting bits and pieces and trying to form a narrative as she had got some spare time.)
I followed him through forests and rivers. I worshipped him like my lord as I was taught since my childhood days. A calm of wisdom on his face and his eyes made me to bow in reverence. Laxman was just a blessing. He got us all the delicacies that the forest offered. How delicious fruits and honey. Spreding over my lips and my tongue and my heart and my soul and … oh how I looked towards him! Like an eternally thirsty traveler looks at a distant pond. And he was busy in his prayers. Mirage, jus mirage. I cursed my already cursed life and felt the honey drying over my lips and making it slightly sticky and I tried to rub it away. I bled and my lips got even redder. But he never even kissed me. It was a manly vow and I was paying for it. I felt like being an alien to my body as it felt no sensation when I touched it. My own delicate fingers felt like a trespasser whenever I tried to explore my own bodily treasure. I was always sure that it was with me but how that it did not belong to me. I lingered where to linger and I lingered even where it was not needed. but for no good. I felt my sensation, my consciousness, my everything alienated from my own body. What was happening with me? Its true forests are infected by all sorts of black magic. But was it any different when in the palace? I don’t think so. He had moved his hands over my body and I felt a strange current passing all through. I did not know but he told that it was the sensation love brings. And I fell in love with him. yes he owned all the sensations of my body as he had named them. It was never different. Forest was an innocent victim of my anguished heart but I know it knew my heart. It remained the same friendly. Laxman brought honey and fruits and flowers. Yes, nothing was changing.
Ravan ( almost taking her in his arms): and I changed it.
(sita looks too shocked to react in anyway.) and I freed you from that prison of unchanging. Sitey I love you. See my arms are open to clasp you and fill your every pore with the nectar of love. I am a wreched beggar, begging in your court of love. Just open your treasure of love for a moment and my soul will be satisfied for the eternity. I am all saturated with an unyielding desire for your love and nothing less than your heart can be the remedy for me as I am tormented by the every moment of separation. Its not wise to starve your soul in this manner. Ram did not deserve you. And what that human weakling is when compared with me. Sita it is providene that wants you to be my beloved. All my queens will be your maids. I promise I will make you feel like a goddess.
Sita (stepping back and resuming the air of disdain) : sure Ravan. But I also know what goddesses mean. I have been a goddess before. And I was always taught how to fortify this goddess ness. How many years with the almost same lesson!And I took pride in my impenetrable purity. You were also present there. Do you remember? You must be. Your wounded pride when you failed to lift that barricade around my body. Surely it was just a barricade. Whoever manages to cross it. Barricade around a fort which I believed to be owning but in fact I never did. And Ram performed the feat. He lifted that rotten bow and tried to connect its ends with that bowstring. And it broke down. He failed to connect and he broke it. I had some apprehension since that time and finally it came true. And my fort stood on such a weak soil that he holed through it without any extraordinary effort. How foolish I was in erecting all those high walls around when the ground itself was so weak. But Ram again failed to connect. Some times it is bow and some times it is string. He could never connect with me. I knew the secret methods of connecting but his manly pride in his manly wisdom…oh. And then I was a conquered a fortress. I had no right to suggest something. And the day my maid taught me how to manage under such adversely configured circumstances this unseen and unsuspected thing happened. My father in law was a man of words, his son was ideal and obedient and me…what about me? I also followed him in a distant hope of connecting with him someday. They praised my decision as the duty of a good wife. Follow your husband in under any circumstances. only if they could have peeped inside my heart and tried to understand what I wanted. Not even my mothers in law had this mind. They were women. Oh! Why should I forget that my step saas had done all this for her son? Really, women never understand women. And men always misunderstand because it benefits them. But I will understand everyone because I have no secret designs. Its why I understand everyone now. ( suddenly turning to Ravan who has been walking behind her as she was walking around that ashoka tree while reflecting upon her past life.) I also understand what you mean by this goddess. (She looks towards all the women) all these women has been a goddess for you some time or other. Your warm breathings on their soft skins might have been the prayer of a devotee and your kisses like the offering of heads. And when you found her ready to welcome you, you entered. Wasn’t there always a conqueror’s smile when you heard
a shriek? You knew the goddess was penetrated to subjugation and you were the triumphant god. Say If I am wrong. I can see even now those past proud moments returning into your mind as your eyes are reflecting them. Why are acting so sincere to disguise your lechery? It shows Ravan. I am an already subjugated goddess you know. You cannot hide the things from me. And then what’s the use? I know what my welcome means for you. I can see my body acquiring a new meaning. Configuration is still the same. It is a site of conquest. Even now. But things are a bit changed. I am In a condition to negate this role. War and conquest are inevitable. In fact I want it more than anything else. But it will be like a transferred epithet. Fighting to conquer a body in a battleground. How do you feel now Ravan? You still love me? Want to offer any more prayers? I refuse to be your goddess and you fail to conquer me. I rejoice in this. One who could not connect with me and one whom I did not permit to connect. And both will fight. See what a penetrated goddess can do. I know am lost. But I had already lost and that too was long ago. Now I will revel in my lost territory. I will revel in my lost sensation. I will reve…
Ravan: it is horrible. I cannot believe my eyes. But it’s true. It’s horrible. ( he almost runs away from the place, still shouting) IT IS HORRIBLE…IT IS HORRIBLE.
(Sita is laughing with a maniac’s jest.) You will fight over a lost territory and shed your blood. Once it was my predicament and now it is yours. Neither can escape that. Ha…HA…HA…HA…HA… see the universe will still keep moving …moving in a circle. Don’t you feel that? See it is also moving beneath my legs. And also beneath you. Ha …ha…haa…war is coming…war over a lost territory. And you can not escape that.
(Ravan is running away. his palms are tight upon his ears. )
Sita is sitting with a dark woman. That woman is caressing her arm and she is playing with her hair. A loud ding is heard.)
That woman: this sound is horrible. I can feel something ominous. I …
(Sita puts her palm upon her lips and silences her.) let us just savour these calm and soothing moments. those dings happened long ago. Only the voice is coming now. Come closer a bit. Lets see some fun. She lies in her arms, it grows dark, and nothing could be seen. Only love was spread in the air like some never felt before aroma and I could not record that.)
I KNOW you must be feeling cheated of your quality time. It had nothing that dramatic what one finds in sting operation. In fact I too fell the same. And now I have got to explain to my wife how and why I spent that money. It was from her salary that I took this money to buy the audio player. Any way I am not worried. After all she is my wife. And just imagine if this becomes tomorrow’s BREAKING NEWS. Who knows. She will be kissing my hand and certainly whatever else I want her to. Let us see.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
FALL
FALL
Meditating upon the further possible ways of taking his character to a height of sublimity which has been a hall mark of our age long tradition of saints and sages, Pundit Ganpat Shastri climbed a few moves higher on the tree and leaned with the support of a branch to break a datoon(an indigenous thing for cleaning teeth). His downwards turned eyes fell upon her cleavage as that girl was sweeping dead leaves and an intoxicating charm, her sensuous youth vaporized by the heat of his gaze, overpowered him. “How unfortunate that such a great man got this ill fate", said a man as Pundit Shashtri's wife was turning into white clothes and others were weeping and thumping their chests.
Meditating upon the further possible ways of taking his character to a height of sublimity which has been a hall mark of our age long tradition of saints and sages, Pundit Ganpat Shastri climbed a few moves higher on the tree and leaned with the support of a branch to break a datoon(an indigenous thing for cleaning teeth). His downwards turned eyes fell upon her cleavage as that girl was sweeping dead leaves and an intoxicating charm, her sensuous youth vaporized by the heat of his gaze, overpowered him. “How unfortunate that such a great man got this ill fate", said a man as Pundit Shashtri's wife was turning into white clothes and others were weeping and thumping their chests.
Friday, December 12, 2008
SHIVLINGAM
“I was going to paikhana, you know, when I saw it. First, I thought it to some trick by some one. I left my lota there, In the field, and came near it.”
Suddenly another of the enthusiastic crowd there broke into and hijacked the narrative. “he was trying to move the stone. I was just in the middle of my business when I saw him bent upon something and trying to pull something out. I thought it was some hidden gold pitcher( he flashed his teeth for some time with a coughing laughter and all responded to this sense of humor with a bored curiosity). I just threw the water in hurry and ran, wrapping my dhoti on the way.” “Hey did you wash your hole, did not you?” a laughter put some embarrassment on his face but soon he back in his spirit. “I saw him fighting with a stone and I realized. It was god and that fool was trying to move him.” “But I think he did not know that it was god”, someone interrupted. “See! Dear bro it’s a matter of common sense. Where did this stone suddenly come from? And you can see that it is not just put there. It is still half buried. It means, quite clearly, that god has appeared by breaking the earth.” A voice, slightly louder than the one who was holding the center of talk, suddenly captured all the ears. “I knew this beforehand. Last week, on the same day, god came in my dream. He was talking about the evils spreading in this world. Haven’t you heard about kalki avatar? It is that time. Anyone who knows…”
“Oh! Baba knows everything, doesn’t he? Last week Lakhia’s cow was missing. He came to baba. Baba asked him to offer hundred rupees to god. When Lakhia was returning after making the offering karia told him that his cow was at Hareshwar babu’s dyodhi. Poor lakhia went there running. His cow was tied and some one was milking her. His cow was caught grazing in Hari babu’s field. Bags full of abuses and five hundred rupees fine got him his cow back.. next morning lakhia milked his cow and found Baba waiting at his hut’s door. Half of the milk came to Baba’s lota.” Those three boys were telling the story in turns without changing the narration. And while one was busy in story telling the rest busied themselves in laughing. “All vampanthi(leftists would be an incomplete translation). Look at their faces. Sons of kaliyug. Sick with brain fever and say they are modern. Why don’t ask your father when he comes to temple. Why…” Baba kept shouting and yelling and even abusing and they kept laughing . “All left and modern and dark age and whatelse heretics”. Baba was still shouting . And his dream was suspended in air which was trapped inside his belly and suddenly it refused to be held back. A big roar made its way into the public notice and two sense organs perceived it simultaneously. They closed their nose and started laughing but remained civil enough to stand there, listening Baba with great care. But this strangely self articulated revelation reminded baba that his lota was still filled with water and the task of morning ritual was not accomplished. He waved everyone away, took his lota and ran towards the nrearest orchard which could hide him from the increasing number of eyes without losing the sight of that place. “ fools! Cant come after some time. Don’t care about ….aaaaah. Baba felt relieved after discharging some nightlong waste with some sound effect. Crowd was increasing . Baba was getting impatient with this nature-call that was keeping him away from that place. And dream was also not fully told to the public present there. He felt irritated with his larger and smaller and any other intestine. he was having constipation. Really a bad thing. New oils in market have no purity left. Once he used to eat kilos of rice and all sorts of vegetables and fried stuffs and was hungry again by the time his hand was dried enough to receive the gifts from his client. But those were happy days when dharma ruled the world. Now everyone is kaliyuga’s son. How heretic that Raghu babu’s son was speaking. They spend a few years in colleges and cities and think that they know everything. Value nobody else. I must talk to his father. Yesterday I saw that idiot walking with a chamar’s son. Really, kaliyuga is showing its colour. Religion is getting corrupted. No body cares a bit about his caste. Suppose we were fools. Baba turned the lota on his butt and moved his left hand’s fingers quickly to ensure that he was properly washed. He rushed to the spot, wrapping his dhoti around his waist, where things had changed like anything.
Vermilion mark was put on the stone god, a woman was plastering the ground with cow dung, and some women were ready with flowers. Yashoda babu was standing there, instructing some young men to cut some bamboos and make a barrier around that place. Domu, who had taken that piece of land on batai, was standing there with oxen, waiting for them to go away so that he could till the land. His four years old son was holding the ropes when he went to see what the case was. “stay away!” a young man stopped him when he neared a bamboo line. It was a holy place now and Domu was an untouchable. Domu looked at Yashoda babu who was also standing there. He was quite busy, instructing everyone for this or that. He called Domu, when he was turning away, to stop. Domu sent his son back with oxen and stayed there to put some soil at the root of bamboos, which were put there to guard the stone god from dogs and animals and… untouchables. People had started pouring there with all sorts of offering and further bamboos were needed to arrange the crowed properly. Baba had come after making himself pure in the nearby pond. He did not go even go back to his home for breakfast. It was an urgent duty and he could not fail here. The bamboo border had an entry point which had a barrier as well. It was lifted, officially, by a young man to let Baba in. and then it lifted permanently for all the visitors. It would be more proper to call them devotees. Domu was making some more bamboo poles and bamboo walls and bamboo sticks(to control the crowd when it tried to break the queue and also to keep the dogs and unwanted and impure humans away) while his body was sweating like a fountain. It was a June morning and the sun was climbing up in the sky. Four or five separate pieces of red cloth were put there on which devotees put the tokens of their faith. As god is all loving and all encompassing, all sorts of gifts were accepted.some gifts made Baba’s eyes shine brighter but, then, scriptures say that different gifts please god in different degrees. But, anyway, all things are welcome if you have devotion. Baba was quite absorbed in putting the stamp of divine blessing on every forehead. If Just the random glances directed towards the offerings are excluded.
A totally confused face was running around the whole scene, trying to find something. He also had a donkey with him. the human wall surrounding the tree looked impenetrable for his struggling eyes. He tried hard. He could go approach any nearer with his ass. He requested Domu to hold the rope for some moment. An irritated face was a disappointing one for that donkey man. But he pleaded with tone of a needy. An explanation was demanded and Donkeyman got even more confused. Answer was must but how to put. Finally he answered it with another query “what is going on here?” Domu gave a wearied smile “ another god has come. They say he will relieve the world from all worries. Worries…” Domu held the rope while his eyes were fixed on some unknown point in the space.
He was struggling to make his way through that wall. Suddenly someone pulled him back and put in a queue. “Don’t you see all are coming in line. From where these donkeys pouring in! difficult to manage. Its getting upon my …” Donkeyman had moved forward and the voice gradually faded in his ears. Barrier was in front of him. a lady had entered inside and was rubbing her head before that stone. Donkeyman was trying to confirm if it was his. it was round like his. but he could not understand the mystery. What was special with his stone? He moved to lift the barrier. but he could not. “ give your offering …give it…where are you rushing to….” Several voices came to dumb him for sometime and he was fixed like a stone. One guy was holding the barrier bamboo, thre or four were surrounding him and all the eyes were staring at him. he looked scared for a moment. His hand was empty. Nothing to offer. “what is he doing there then?” many were standing, waiting for the divine grace that was to come with the moment of Darshan. Is he stone? Why does not he move? Has he given his offering? Has he…? Has he?
Donkeyman found the bamboos not comforting anyway when he was pushed by some divinely inspired devotee who had got a bag full of some thing and something. He tried to steady himself. A relieved look spread on… others faces. No nonsense. Beggars haunting gods place. Standing like stone when everyone is in hurry. “ pray god to get a good job for my son.” The man lowered his head from its extraordinary height before the god and baba gave him some sacred ash to rub some to send for his son.. and he requested Baba to this special request from god. Brahmins are better heard by god. And Baba was special even among the Brahmins. He was Baba. Donkeyman had probably hit his head against some bamboo. It was bleeding. All ears turned in shock. All eyes turned with wonder. All minds rushed in disbelief. What is this?
“this is my stone. My donkey dropped it here and ran away. ..” Donkeyman was shouting breathlessly. Surely he is out of mind now! Is he mad! “ I bought it for twenty rupees from…” he was carried on four shoulders. A good Ariel ride. Domu was surprised by this sudden shouting. He moved his head. Rope was still in his hand. Probably he felt pity for the poor chap. “ you are fooling …” suddenly his voice vanished. It left no trail. Wonderfully clean. People were again put into order and devotees were back on the track. Domu still held the rope, looking at the body on four shoulders.
“Yes, I also saw it”
“He was with one more person”.
“God punished him.”
“Really. But how dared he!”
“did not you see. We had to carry him away even yesterday noon.”
“I think he was mad. Claiming the god to be his stone. Twenty rupees stone.”
A new cloth was put there as much more devotees of that newly discovered god were expected. News had already traveled a lot. And, then, god is everywhere. Attempted theft made the god even more valuable. Some said he was of parasmani stone. Domu was taking his donkey for a market trip. Compensation for the lost batai. His son was also with him.it was a fresh pile of soil. Domu stood there for a moment. Put a plant on it. “what is this babu?” “ we can not touch nor are allowed tulsi therefore I have put this plant. He died and god knows … stone…” his mumbling became incomprehensible and his son became alarmed. Donkey was going in another direction. Domu got his sense. He knows donkeyman had also lost his donkey for once. But he won’t. He repeated it twice to himself. A faint sound of conch came and his son looked in that direction.” “Babu! How much sweets were there!” Domu silenced him, “those for god”. He knew he was lying.
“I am only doing my dharma. God wished it. He came to my house. That is my reward. What else should one wish?” Yashoda babu was sitting with many of his well wishers which was the whole village now and even some from the neighbouring. “it’s your greatness yahoda babu that you are so humble. Who is ignorant of your spiritual life. Never went to your fields even when you could have been a big farmer. So much land. But give them up gradually. And all for god. We know its no wonder that god has come to your folds.” “what’s use! Never saw the comforts of life. No house which can be called by that name. young daughters, to be married, but nothing for dowry.” His wife poured tea into their cups and all were suddenly silent. No answer. She left…without waiting for any answer. “ I am planning to make a temple there. We will need to collect donations. I think people will help.” all mouths opened to assure him. who can refuse to donate for such a noble cause. Yashoda babu had a receipt book. Already waiting.
“that baba is so greedy. Was demanding almost quarter of the total.” Yashoda babu was smiling. He was thinking. She gave him a bowl of kheer. His whole bulk was comfortably lying on that well arranged bed. He was moving his right hand in the hairy growth on his chest. She was standing with a glass of water. Saw the whole bowl passing through his throat and vanishing. His convex belly reflected no change. A thoughtful satisfaction was on his face. “ you unnerved them. I was also shocked for a moment.” Yashoda babu was caressing her and she was counting to him the things they got that day. He was busy, trying to give her a son. He slipped to side and she turned towards him. “ I proposed to make a temple there. Donations will start coming in a few days. You wont have to worry this much. Coming shivratri I will arrange a grand pooja and fair. It will be regular. I have talked. We will have enough money in a week or so to renovate this house…” his voice was drowning gradually. She arranged her saari to cover herself and slept. She had to wake up early. She saw a dream. The grinding stone at her kitchen changed into god and it was frightening. He was badly hurt and bleeding. She had hurt Him. he said that she nailed him and stoned him. he was bleeding and it was terrible. She wanted his forgiveness. And he granted with smile. It was even more terrifying. His mouth looked like a dark cavern. No shining teeth left. He moved his hand to bless her. She shrieked in terror. He woke up and found her sweating. it was nothing. Both slept again.
Domu brought back good money from the market. His son was very happy. He was given a new shirt pant. His wife loved him more than ever. But he could not lie above her. Something was growing inside him. something stone. He can not have her on the top. Stone was already too heavy. she became afraid. checked and his tool was hard like a stone. But it was cold. Strange.
It was a Bunyan tree. Unbelievable growth. Within one year it was double of Domu. Domu watered him every morning and talked and wept. Children never went near that tree. They said it was haunted. And Domu was possessed. Domu took his donkey and he was cursed. His son played with him. his wife still missed the warmth every night. She stopped checking it. Domu was often seen at the top of that tree in the evening. After finishing his work he went there to rest. He worked as a labourer and was a hard worker. All his masters accepted this. He sat on the top branch. In a distance, temple was growing slowly. A twice in a week haat commenced there. Annual mela. Domu told him everything and they laughed together. People say Domu can ride tree. But he knows he can not tell the truth. They feel sad for a moment and start laughing again. Children see donkeyman at night. Temple is siddha and people come to win their impossible wishes. Yashoda babu tries every night on his wife. Some say she has got a stone in her uterus and no son can grow there. Girls …well they can adjust. Baba knows how to capture a spirit. People often come to him. usually its donkeyman or the god thief. And Baba knows how to control him. offerings are coming but Baba has no material interest. It is for god’s maintenance. A flag dances with the wind, singing the glory of god. People say that this flag is divine and dances even when there is no wind. Gods can do anything. No doubt. That Bunyan is dancing without wind and Domu is convulsing in laughter. He is cursed. Baba tells that he is damned and children avoid him. he carries his son on his shoulder. His wife is worried. Yashoda babu has brought another wife. First wife spends her time mostly in the temple. Yashoda babu keeps trying for a son. Baba has prayed for him and he is hopeful.
A marbel stone is donated by some devotee. His sone got a job. Someone donated a gold ring as he won a case. A stone, black stone, is put at door of the temple. " EPITOME OF SPIRITUALISM, BLESSED BY GOD, MOST DIVINE SON AMONG ALL THE DIVINE SONS, SRI YASHODA BABU'S ..."
DOMU reads this to donkeymanbunyantree and both laugh together.
Suddenly another of the enthusiastic crowd there broke into and hijacked the narrative. “he was trying to move the stone. I was just in the middle of my business when I saw him bent upon something and trying to pull something out. I thought it was some hidden gold pitcher( he flashed his teeth for some time with a coughing laughter and all responded to this sense of humor with a bored curiosity). I just threw the water in hurry and ran, wrapping my dhoti on the way.” “Hey did you wash your hole, did not you?” a laughter put some embarrassment on his face but soon he back in his spirit. “I saw him fighting with a stone and I realized. It was god and that fool was trying to move him.” “But I think he did not know that it was god”, someone interrupted. “See! Dear bro it’s a matter of common sense. Where did this stone suddenly come from? And you can see that it is not just put there. It is still half buried. It means, quite clearly, that god has appeared by breaking the earth.” A voice, slightly louder than the one who was holding the center of talk, suddenly captured all the ears. “I knew this beforehand. Last week, on the same day, god came in my dream. He was talking about the evils spreading in this world. Haven’t you heard about kalki avatar? It is that time. Anyone who knows…”
“Oh! Baba knows everything, doesn’t he? Last week Lakhia’s cow was missing. He came to baba. Baba asked him to offer hundred rupees to god. When Lakhia was returning after making the offering karia told him that his cow was at Hareshwar babu’s dyodhi. Poor lakhia went there running. His cow was tied and some one was milking her. His cow was caught grazing in Hari babu’s field. Bags full of abuses and five hundred rupees fine got him his cow back.. next morning lakhia milked his cow and found Baba waiting at his hut’s door. Half of the milk came to Baba’s lota.” Those three boys were telling the story in turns without changing the narration. And while one was busy in story telling the rest busied themselves in laughing. “All vampanthi(leftists would be an incomplete translation). Look at their faces. Sons of kaliyug. Sick with brain fever and say they are modern. Why don’t ask your father when he comes to temple. Why…” Baba kept shouting and yelling and even abusing and they kept laughing . “All left and modern and dark age and whatelse heretics”. Baba was still shouting . And his dream was suspended in air which was trapped inside his belly and suddenly it refused to be held back. A big roar made its way into the public notice and two sense organs perceived it simultaneously. They closed their nose and started laughing but remained civil enough to stand there, listening Baba with great care. But this strangely self articulated revelation reminded baba that his lota was still filled with water and the task of morning ritual was not accomplished. He waved everyone away, took his lota and ran towards the nrearest orchard which could hide him from the increasing number of eyes without losing the sight of that place. “ fools! Cant come after some time. Don’t care about ….aaaaah. Baba felt relieved after discharging some nightlong waste with some sound effect. Crowd was increasing . Baba was getting impatient with this nature-call that was keeping him away from that place. And dream was also not fully told to the public present there. He felt irritated with his larger and smaller and any other intestine. he was having constipation. Really a bad thing. New oils in market have no purity left. Once he used to eat kilos of rice and all sorts of vegetables and fried stuffs and was hungry again by the time his hand was dried enough to receive the gifts from his client. But those were happy days when dharma ruled the world. Now everyone is kaliyuga’s son. How heretic that Raghu babu’s son was speaking. They spend a few years in colleges and cities and think that they know everything. Value nobody else. I must talk to his father. Yesterday I saw that idiot walking with a chamar’s son. Really, kaliyuga is showing its colour. Religion is getting corrupted. No body cares a bit about his caste. Suppose we were fools. Baba turned the lota on his butt and moved his left hand’s fingers quickly to ensure that he was properly washed. He rushed to the spot, wrapping his dhoti around his waist, where things had changed like anything.
Vermilion mark was put on the stone god, a woman was plastering the ground with cow dung, and some women were ready with flowers. Yashoda babu was standing there, instructing some young men to cut some bamboos and make a barrier around that place. Domu, who had taken that piece of land on batai, was standing there with oxen, waiting for them to go away so that he could till the land. His four years old son was holding the ropes when he went to see what the case was. “stay away!” a young man stopped him when he neared a bamboo line. It was a holy place now and Domu was an untouchable. Domu looked at Yashoda babu who was also standing there. He was quite busy, instructing everyone for this or that. He called Domu, when he was turning away, to stop. Domu sent his son back with oxen and stayed there to put some soil at the root of bamboos, which were put there to guard the stone god from dogs and animals and… untouchables. People had started pouring there with all sorts of offering and further bamboos were needed to arrange the crowed properly. Baba had come after making himself pure in the nearby pond. He did not go even go back to his home for breakfast. It was an urgent duty and he could not fail here. The bamboo border had an entry point which had a barrier as well. It was lifted, officially, by a young man to let Baba in. and then it lifted permanently for all the visitors. It would be more proper to call them devotees. Domu was making some more bamboo poles and bamboo walls and bamboo sticks(to control the crowd when it tried to break the queue and also to keep the dogs and unwanted and impure humans away) while his body was sweating like a fountain. It was a June morning and the sun was climbing up in the sky. Four or five separate pieces of red cloth were put there on which devotees put the tokens of their faith. As god is all loving and all encompassing, all sorts of gifts were accepted.some gifts made Baba’s eyes shine brighter but, then, scriptures say that different gifts please god in different degrees. But, anyway, all things are welcome if you have devotion. Baba was quite absorbed in putting the stamp of divine blessing on every forehead. If Just the random glances directed towards the offerings are excluded.
A totally confused face was running around the whole scene, trying to find something. He also had a donkey with him. the human wall surrounding the tree looked impenetrable for his struggling eyes. He tried hard. He could go approach any nearer with his ass. He requested Domu to hold the rope for some moment. An irritated face was a disappointing one for that donkey man. But he pleaded with tone of a needy. An explanation was demanded and Donkeyman got even more confused. Answer was must but how to put. Finally he answered it with another query “what is going on here?” Domu gave a wearied smile “ another god has come. They say he will relieve the world from all worries. Worries…” Domu held the rope while his eyes were fixed on some unknown point in the space.
He was struggling to make his way through that wall. Suddenly someone pulled him back and put in a queue. “Don’t you see all are coming in line. From where these donkeys pouring in! difficult to manage. Its getting upon my …” Donkeyman had moved forward and the voice gradually faded in his ears. Barrier was in front of him. a lady had entered inside and was rubbing her head before that stone. Donkeyman was trying to confirm if it was his. it was round like his. but he could not understand the mystery. What was special with his stone? He moved to lift the barrier. but he could not. “ give your offering …give it…where are you rushing to….” Several voices came to dumb him for sometime and he was fixed like a stone. One guy was holding the barrier bamboo, thre or four were surrounding him and all the eyes were staring at him. he looked scared for a moment. His hand was empty. Nothing to offer. “what is he doing there then?” many were standing, waiting for the divine grace that was to come with the moment of Darshan. Is he stone? Why does not he move? Has he given his offering? Has he…? Has he?
Donkeyman found the bamboos not comforting anyway when he was pushed by some divinely inspired devotee who had got a bag full of some thing and something. He tried to steady himself. A relieved look spread on… others faces. No nonsense. Beggars haunting gods place. Standing like stone when everyone is in hurry. “ pray god to get a good job for my son.” The man lowered his head from its extraordinary height before the god and baba gave him some sacred ash to rub some to send for his son.. and he requested Baba to this special request from god. Brahmins are better heard by god. And Baba was special even among the Brahmins. He was Baba. Donkeyman had probably hit his head against some bamboo. It was bleeding. All ears turned in shock. All eyes turned with wonder. All minds rushed in disbelief. What is this?
“this is my stone. My donkey dropped it here and ran away. ..” Donkeyman was shouting breathlessly. Surely he is out of mind now! Is he mad! “ I bought it for twenty rupees from…” he was carried on four shoulders. A good Ariel ride. Domu was surprised by this sudden shouting. He moved his head. Rope was still in his hand. Probably he felt pity for the poor chap. “ you are fooling …” suddenly his voice vanished. It left no trail. Wonderfully clean. People were again put into order and devotees were back on the track. Domu still held the rope, looking at the body on four shoulders.
“Yes, I also saw it”
“He was with one more person”.
“God punished him.”
“Really. But how dared he!”
“did not you see. We had to carry him away even yesterday noon.”
“I think he was mad. Claiming the god to be his stone. Twenty rupees stone.”
A new cloth was put there as much more devotees of that newly discovered god were expected. News had already traveled a lot. And, then, god is everywhere. Attempted theft made the god even more valuable. Some said he was of parasmani stone. Domu was taking his donkey for a market trip. Compensation for the lost batai. His son was also with him.it was a fresh pile of soil. Domu stood there for a moment. Put a plant on it. “what is this babu?” “ we can not touch nor are allowed tulsi therefore I have put this plant. He died and god knows … stone…” his mumbling became incomprehensible and his son became alarmed. Donkey was going in another direction. Domu got his sense. He knows donkeyman had also lost his donkey for once. But he won’t. He repeated it twice to himself. A faint sound of conch came and his son looked in that direction.” “Babu! How much sweets were there!” Domu silenced him, “those for god”. He knew he was lying.
“I am only doing my dharma. God wished it. He came to my house. That is my reward. What else should one wish?” Yashoda babu was sitting with many of his well wishers which was the whole village now and even some from the neighbouring. “it’s your greatness yahoda babu that you are so humble. Who is ignorant of your spiritual life. Never went to your fields even when you could have been a big farmer. So much land. But give them up gradually. And all for god. We know its no wonder that god has come to your folds.” “what’s use! Never saw the comforts of life. No house which can be called by that name. young daughters, to be married, but nothing for dowry.” His wife poured tea into their cups and all were suddenly silent. No answer. She left…without waiting for any answer. “ I am planning to make a temple there. We will need to collect donations. I think people will help.” all mouths opened to assure him. who can refuse to donate for such a noble cause. Yashoda babu had a receipt book. Already waiting.
“that baba is so greedy. Was demanding almost quarter of the total.” Yashoda babu was smiling. He was thinking. She gave him a bowl of kheer. His whole bulk was comfortably lying on that well arranged bed. He was moving his right hand in the hairy growth on his chest. She was standing with a glass of water. Saw the whole bowl passing through his throat and vanishing. His convex belly reflected no change. A thoughtful satisfaction was on his face. “ you unnerved them. I was also shocked for a moment.” Yashoda babu was caressing her and she was counting to him the things they got that day. He was busy, trying to give her a son. He slipped to side and she turned towards him. “ I proposed to make a temple there. Donations will start coming in a few days. You wont have to worry this much. Coming shivratri I will arrange a grand pooja and fair. It will be regular. I have talked. We will have enough money in a week or so to renovate this house…” his voice was drowning gradually. She arranged her saari to cover herself and slept. She had to wake up early. She saw a dream. The grinding stone at her kitchen changed into god and it was frightening. He was badly hurt and bleeding. She had hurt Him. he said that she nailed him and stoned him. he was bleeding and it was terrible. She wanted his forgiveness. And he granted with smile. It was even more terrifying. His mouth looked like a dark cavern. No shining teeth left. He moved his hand to bless her. She shrieked in terror. He woke up and found her sweating. it was nothing. Both slept again.
Domu brought back good money from the market. His son was very happy. He was given a new shirt pant. His wife loved him more than ever. But he could not lie above her. Something was growing inside him. something stone. He can not have her on the top. Stone was already too heavy. she became afraid. checked and his tool was hard like a stone. But it was cold. Strange.
It was a Bunyan tree. Unbelievable growth. Within one year it was double of Domu. Domu watered him every morning and talked and wept. Children never went near that tree. They said it was haunted. And Domu was possessed. Domu took his donkey and he was cursed. His son played with him. his wife still missed the warmth every night. She stopped checking it. Domu was often seen at the top of that tree in the evening. After finishing his work he went there to rest. He worked as a labourer and was a hard worker. All his masters accepted this. He sat on the top branch. In a distance, temple was growing slowly. A twice in a week haat commenced there. Annual mela. Domu told him everything and they laughed together. People say Domu can ride tree. But he knows he can not tell the truth. They feel sad for a moment and start laughing again. Children see donkeyman at night. Temple is siddha and people come to win their impossible wishes. Yashoda babu tries every night on his wife. Some say she has got a stone in her uterus and no son can grow there. Girls …well they can adjust. Baba knows how to capture a spirit. People often come to him. usually its donkeyman or the god thief. And Baba knows how to control him. offerings are coming but Baba has no material interest. It is for god’s maintenance. A flag dances with the wind, singing the glory of god. People say that this flag is divine and dances even when there is no wind. Gods can do anything. No doubt. That Bunyan is dancing without wind and Domu is convulsing in laughter. He is cursed. Baba tells that he is damned and children avoid him. he carries his son on his shoulder. His wife is worried. Yashoda babu has brought another wife. First wife spends her time mostly in the temple. Yashoda babu keeps trying for a son. Baba has prayed for him and he is hopeful.
A marbel stone is donated by some devotee. His sone got a job. Someone donated a gold ring as he won a case. A stone, black stone, is put at door of the temple. " EPITOME OF SPIRITUALISM, BLESSED BY GOD, MOST DIVINE SON AMONG ALL THE DIVINE SONS, SRI YASHODA BABU'S ..."
DOMU reads this to donkeymanbunyantree and both laugh together.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
PART 2
PART 2
And Venus rising from the sea!
And Venus for sure…or…or…
Ain’t it David? The celebrated naked!
Wretched red-light and the honking sea,
Desperate connoisseurs poking eyes out…
And its David, celebrating naked;
David as my common human sense says,
Venus unclad if, is without ‘if’ screwed down.
And approved by my culture, it is David then;
Standing between these ‘to and fro’,
Signaling the sweating civilization to wait;
To wait…to wait and to watch…
Something that was a compulsory choice.
And one among this multitude…
And the vast multitude within that one-
Abhorrence…
Disgust….
Anger…
Shame…
Pity…
Indifference…
And this and that and else.
And at least one admiration.
Still humming the songs of high renaissance,
Enchanted still by newly unraveled ITALY,
And in awe of Vinci and Angelo,
I admired this modern symmetry-
A microcosm opens to macrocosm,
Telling the telling of time untold-
This is David in bone, in flesh.
A well –made skeleton, fit engined,
Packed within its size-cut skin;
Crowned and garlanded with whitening shrubs,
It is the celebration of modern art.
Its hanging …dropping…shrinking vitality,
Vanishing into its pouched potency-
Restoring mankind’s lost innocence.
What a brave new world!
And how little ambitious!
No single Angelo to claim this David?
No art monger to proclaim this art?
No creator wishes acknowledgement?
That’s the beauty of our time;
Or, say the beauty of ‘no time’.
Kudos to us for failing dead Angelo,
In making of this David, part two,
From his 3-D to our modern 4-D.
Fortunate I to witness this modern creation,
And David now signals us to motion,
And bids us for our floral destination.
I am back again to the unraveling of time.
This time I wish it another way.
Preparing for the next surprise exhibition-
A laughing Buddha…
A silent Mahavira…
…or a stripped Draupadi…
SEQUEL 2 IN LIVE MODERN ART GALEERY.
GOOD LUCK! THE BEST IS YET TO COME.
NOTES- one day i saw a person,must be some beggar, whose both legs were rotten and worms were creeping out. it pitiable, it was disgusting, it was revolting.a police man asked some rikshaw puller to carry him awy, to somewhere else. it was nere new delhi railway station.
one evening, when coming back from university, i saw a mad person standing at a redlight, waving his hand like a traffic police. he had no clothes on. different passengers reacted in different ways. i felt some sympahy. i dont know how true it was or is.
And Venus rising from the sea!
And Venus for sure…or…or…
Ain’t it David? The celebrated naked!
Wretched red-light and the honking sea,
Desperate connoisseurs poking eyes out…
And its David, celebrating naked;
David as my common human sense says,
Venus unclad if, is without ‘if’ screwed down.
And approved by my culture, it is David then;
Standing between these ‘to and fro’,
Signaling the sweating civilization to wait;
To wait…to wait and to watch…
Something that was a compulsory choice.
And one among this multitude…
And the vast multitude within that one-
Abhorrence…
Disgust….
Anger…
Shame…
Pity…
Indifference…
And this and that and else.
And at least one admiration.
Still humming the songs of high renaissance,
Enchanted still by newly unraveled ITALY,
And in awe of Vinci and Angelo,
I admired this modern symmetry-
A microcosm opens to macrocosm,
Telling the telling of time untold-
This is David in bone, in flesh.
A well –made skeleton, fit engined,
Packed within its size-cut skin;
Crowned and garlanded with whitening shrubs,
It is the celebration of modern art.
Its hanging …dropping…shrinking vitality,
Vanishing into its pouched potency-
Restoring mankind’s lost innocence.
What a brave new world!
And how little ambitious!
No single Angelo to claim this David?
No art monger to proclaim this art?
No creator wishes acknowledgement?
That’s the beauty of our time;
Or, say the beauty of ‘no time’.
Kudos to us for failing dead Angelo,
In making of this David, part two,
From his 3-D to our modern 4-D.
Fortunate I to witness this modern creation,
And David now signals us to motion,
And bids us for our floral destination.
I am back again to the unraveling of time.
This time I wish it another way.
Preparing for the next surprise exhibition-
A laughing Buddha…
A silent Mahavira…
…or a stripped Draupadi…
SEQUEL 2 IN LIVE MODERN ART GALEERY.
GOOD LUCK! THE BEST IS YET TO COME.
NOTES- one day i saw a person,must be some beggar, whose both legs were rotten and worms were creeping out. it pitiable, it was disgusting, it was revolting.a police man asked some rikshaw puller to carry him awy, to somewhere else. it was nere new delhi railway station.
one evening, when coming back from university, i saw a mad person standing at a redlight, waving his hand like a traffic police. he had no clothes on. different passengers reacted in different ways. i felt some sympahy. i dont know how true it was or is.
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