Some Place Else

Rishikesh

Shankara asked Burak to follow him as he walked out of the town in a cold, deserted road. The town lay at the edge of the Himavant, the forbidden world, and this was the last road to nowhere. It was late afternoon. “Are you ready for your ordained destination?” Shankara asked Burak.

“Are we going straight away?”Burak asked expectantly as he jumped off from the stair on which he stood, and followed Shankara. “ I meant that we could, perhaps, do some preparations as we leave!” He tried to explain. However Shankara seemed to be in no mood to stop.

“You’d been preparing for this throughout your life Burak!” He said, and walked on till he bumped into a young sadhu. The sadhu seemed to recognize Shankara and immediately prostrated in front of him. Shankara held the sadhu’s arms and made him rise up. “Vidyadhara, have you brought my consignments?” Shankara asked the strange sadhu.

The sadhu immediately produced a box from his bag, and handed it over to Shankara. Shankara smiled and took the bag. “We shall meet on the other side. Perhaps.” Shankara said to him. There were tears in the sadhu’s eyes. Without saying a word, he turned around, and swiftly walked toward the town. Shanakra and Burak stood there and saw his silhouette disappear in the mist. It was getting dark and cold. It was almost dangerous to go anywhere outside the town at this hour, especially into the wilderness toward which they headed. They suddenly came to a point where the road ended. They could listen to the sound of flowing water somewhere from the woods ahead of them. Shankara continued uninhibited, Burak swiftly followed. Both stopped at a point inside the woods where there was nothing to go ahead, except the swiftly flowing Ganga, that lay in front of them. Shankara turned back to Burak and said, “ Look in front of you. Those are the mountains of the East.” He pointed towards brilliantly shining snow covered horizon, built up by successively taller layers of mountains, that almost obliterated the sky. For the first time in his life, Burak could not see where the land ended, and the sky started. The end seemed to be a bit of both the land and the sky.

“ You shall need to dive through the waters of the Ganga to get to the other side. Take this oxygen kit, and dive immediately after me. You can turn behind after I dive, and join your group after I dive, but remember, this is why you have come so far. Remember the verses that you read in your childhood, that made you come out of the world!” Shankara handed the box over to him. Before Burak could think of anything, Shankara dived into the river, leaving Burak alone to figure out the rest of his life in a moment. An inner voice suddenly overtook him and told him that the man who dived before him did it because he trusted that he would come. If for nothing else, he should trust him because of this and do it.  In a moment, he took out the oxygen mask and jumped into the Ganga.

It seemed petrifying. Cold water had surrounded him on all the sides. As he opened his eyes, he saw a different word, a murky aquatic reality. When he lived by the Van Golu, and the Caspian, he often thought of the life underneath the great water bodies. He had imagined it to be somewhat similar to the aquarium, but being inside was a completely different experience. He felt the waxy and ribbony water grass touch his body, and a sudden fish rush before his eyes. Suddenly, he felt a thrust from behind. He was pushed forcefully ahead. Suddenly shankara came over him, and dragged him along with himself.  Within minutes they had surfaced to see a high wave building in front of them. Suddenly, they were takem upon the crest of the wave, and after a few tosses in the water, Burak could sense the turbulence calm. He could feel something by his hands. He cleared his watery eyes and saw brilliantly white snow covered landscape in front of himself. He was at the shore.

Burak couldn’t recount that how long he remained in water. Even though it didn’t seem long, but, by all standards, it would have been really long time, as it was bright daylight. He was exhausted. As Shankara looked around, as if searching for something, Burak just fell down on some warm earth on the riverside to rest. When he woke up, the sun was overhead, but the chilling winds made the warmth almost ineffective. Shankara had gathered some twigs and made a fire close to Burak. It gave him some warmth. His clothes had, miraculously, dried, A Burak stood up and went a few steps ahead to inspect the landscape, he saw the most wonderous thing he had ever thought of!

He saw a humanoid figure appear in the horizon. The person seemed perfect, except that he had long ears, and strangely enough, a bow and a quiver full of arrows. As he turned back, Burak saw that Shankara had come close to him. Shankara quietly indicated Burak to remain silent, and spoke just one word in whispers. “Elf.”

The elf was surveying the sky intently, as if trying to figure something out. He then wly took out an arrow from his quiver, and aimed at the sky as if there was something there. He released the arrow towards the sky. The arrow vanished, but the elf kept looking at the skies as if searching for something. Suddenly, there was a shower from the sky. Amazing large pink fruits fell from the heavens, as if there was a tree up there. The elf quickly collected the fruits and wnt away, kicking some fruits here and there in haste. One of the fruits reached the place where Burak, and Shankara stood.

It was a pink colored fruit. Shankara indicated Burak to pick it up.  “ You can eat it. It’s safe.” Shankara said.

The fruit was almost the pulp. Without a covering or the rind. Burak was filled with unspeakable joy as he took the first bite on the fruit. This was the sweetest, juiciest, and tastiest fruid Burak ever had. All his tiredness and worries were gone in a moment.

Shankara was smiling at Burak. He gave out a short laugh and said. “Welcome to Himavant.”

Mountains of the East!

With Shankara at Rishikesh

They sat on the stairs at the ghat of Ganga at Paramarth Niketan, overlooking the ancient Statue of Shiva as it sat on the island in the middle of swiftly flowing Ganga.

“She starts from his locks, and yet years back she devoured him in her tides.” Shankara told Burak, pointing to the Ganga.

He then shifted his gaze at the starry sky above him. “That is the Orion – from where it all started.” He spoke t6o Burak.

“What all?” Burak asked, confused.

“All this around you, whatever you have seen.” Shankara answered.

“I don’t understand.” Burak said.

“The very life that we see now.”  Shankara answered.

“In times immemorial, before the prehistoric, before any human being ever roamed on the face of the earth, there was a cosmic battle. It occurred in the belt of the Hunter as we see it from here.” Shankara pointed towards the Orion. “There lies a higher world there to which we all belong –where we all go after our life – to be born again. That is our seed.”

“Ages back, when ice covered the earth; the vanquished of the war were exiled from the Orion to find their own world. The sages who protected them lived across the skies – headed by the seven most gracious ones. The vanquished approached those sages with a request for refuge. The sages however had another purpose to fulfill. They gave refuge, but on condition that they would leave in two years for the earth. The sages taught them the art of travelling at a speed higher than that of the light – with the speed of mind.

After two years the sages set them off for their new abode. When they reached here, they mixed up with the native life forms to acqire a body, as they were originally, mind bon, as all the cosmic beings. They formed a new species – Homo sapiens.

Some of them went to a higher world and built civilization higher than Orion.  

The seven sages are still our guardian angels who watch us from that dark space between the seven stars. The ones who control the Orion still look for victory and glory – both on earth and the higher planet. They are all mind – bodied except the beings of the earth, therefore their realm of control is mind and the senses. They repeatedly aim at controlling the human minds. That is their battleground.”

“The almighty from whose golden egg everything develops and who holds the world in the balance of his mind intervenes in this game of mind every now and then and enters the realms of the mind to balance out the opposing side whenever one side becomes heavy. The cosmic play continues in many millions of such creations all the time. We think about right and wrong, good and evil; but in reality none of this exists – it is just opposing side of the axis – which has to exist for the very existence of the other side. We are just the pawns in this game of dice, where the turn of the dice decides how much we would move – the only difference is that we have a freedom in deciding the speed of our movement and how high we would jump.”

“Whatever you say seems to make sense.” Burak  said.” But somehow, the brain tells me not to believe in it.”

Shankara smiled, “you have travelled all your life alone, haven’t you?” He asked.

Burak nodded.

“Yes.” He remarked. “It all ended in Mecca.”

“You saw me there?” Shankara asked.

Burak exhibited a sense of mild shock, more than he actually felt there. How does he know?

“You saw many other people there, isn’t it?” Shankara continued. “You were even instructed to go to the eastern mountains.”

Burak nodded silently.

“Look to the north Burak.” Shankara pointed to the snow covered peaks on the horizon. As Burak turned to have a look, Shankara completed his sentence. “Those are the mountains that you were ordained for.”

Burak took a deep sigh. He raised up from the ghat where he sat.  The water of the Ganges made a sweet music in the background. He looked towards the majestic mountains on the north  and their snow covered peaks. He never thought that the fate would take him this far. He looked back. He was talking to a kafir priest. He did not know what was going on, but there was something that was inviting him to the wilderness beyond Rishikesh. Was the seer to be his guide in this journey?

No Socrates Must Die!

Lahore, India.

Burak just ate, prayed and read. He had enjoyed it thoroughly. He tried to imagine the characters, and they were there in front of his eyes. He had grown fond of some of them – Shantanu was a righteous king, Devavrata was brave and yet humble, Ganga was true to her words. But then all were wrong – Shantanu had a weakness for the woman, Bheeshma had abducted the three girls of Kashi, Ganga left her husband alone. It was a perplexing story where, till he had read – he could paint all the characters grey. Satyavati was greedy, but a good wife and had a sense of responsibility as the queen, Salva was arrogant and haughty, but honourable – no one was completely right or completely wrong.

He entered Mujeeb’s room next day. Prof. Sujeet Ranjan Kalia, the head of philosophy was there with him.  Without waiting for Burak to be seated comfortably, he began – “What did you last read?”

“Three sons being born to the two princesses and the maid.” Burak answered.

“Who  is your favorite so far?” Kalia asked.

“Devavrata Bheeshma – the son of Ganga.” Burak answered.

Mujeeb smiled, “that is your first lesson in history – never identify yourself with any character in history. 

Everyone is right in his own way and his own circumstance. You are here to see what happened, not judge if what happened was right or wrong. And who’s wrong and who’s right when we are all pawns on a special board – with limited powers and our moves governed by someone who doesn’t know what way the next dice is going to turn.  ”

“That is a part of philosophy.” Kalia smiled and remarked.

“When Wazir Khan first talked to me about your intentions, I knew that your knowledge of history won’t be enough to serve your purpose. You need to read about comparative philosophy as well. Otherwise it would constraint your mind. As they say –a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.” Mujeeb said. “I think that it would be good if you join a starter’s batch at Prof. Kalia’s department for now. It would help you a lot.”

“I’m going on a sabbatical, Burak.  My students move with me. Be prepared for a journey - we are going south –where a great seer waits for us. We leave in a week’s time” Kalia said.

Burak nodded

The Fortune Teller

8

On The Train to Jalandhar

“What are you here for?” The lady asked Deborah abruptly. Her sobs and sobriety had drowned down in a wink. She returned as her usual irritating self, as if, from a fit of normalcy.

Deborah and Thomas were yet to recover from their brief moment of shock, and were quite unprepared for this question. The woman, however, didn’t wait for an answer, but barked out in her hoarse stupid, and shrill voice, “Oh, you haven’t come here all the way for a honeymoon?” She stared at Deborah from top to bottom, as if trying to examine something on her body, then she looked at Thomas, and said in a tone that resembled a mad woman. “ Nooo.. You don’t look like that.” She giggled like a little girl, and said, “ I am sorry. I was just wondering.” Thomas just rolled her eyes in disgust as she continued with her interrogation. “What are you here for, young lady?”

Deborah answered in a quick outburst as she had revealed her origins earlier. Only, this time, for Thomas’ relief, she didn’t reveal everything out. “Work.”, was all she said, and then, she got silent.

“What do you do?” The lady asked a quick question.

Deborah had started gathering her wits by now. She had already thought of the reply before the lady completed her question. “What do you do? Why don’t you tell us first?”

The lady smiled. “In this foreign land, I met people who adopted me. They left me with a skill that would never part from me. I have made a fortune from it.” She answered.

“What skill is it?” Thomas jumped in. He wouldn’t let Deborah speak anymore lest she gave up any other crucial information to the lady.

“I read fortunes and tell people about their future,” The lady answered.

“The crystal ball or something?” Deborah seemed interested.

“More accurate than that.” The lady answered. “Here, show me your hand.”

Deborah stretched her hand in front of her.

The lady read the hand for a moment, and then looked at her with strange eyes, as though reading from her face.

“A life full of agony and struggle, is it not? You lost your parents young, and went out for studies.” She said. “You have lost four of your loved ones, one of them pretty recently.”  She continued. ”You are running from someone.” Deborah kept quiet, however, the lady continued unabated. “Times are good now. You are blessed. Long journeys await you. You don’t have any idea, lady, what you will do will change the world.”

The lady contemplated for a moment, and then spoke again. “What are you here for, lady?”

“Well I am a historian, just came here on a sabbatical.” Deborah concealed the truth cunningly.

“Stay with me, both of you. We have long journeys to make together. I can see it clearly now. the mountain by the Emerald Lake. This was the time that all of us were waiting for.” Her voice seemed deep and genuine by now.

“You aren’t here on a sabbatical, girl. You and this priest are here because you were touched by the God!” She grew silent and closed her eyes.

ego Deus gratias ago tibi, et laudamus te

Thomas could briefly hear her say in her lips as she sat with closed eyes.

The Secret

6

Patiala, India

“I can’t believe my eyes, and my ears, Rajat!” Rajat said to Jai. He was so used to calling him Rajat, that calling him by his new name seemed unnatural to him.

“I can’t believe that I am talking to you! Over that, when you tell me about immortal sages and hermitages on this earth, it seems that I am visiting an epic.” Rajat continued.

“Yes!” Jai remarked. “Rajat, we are the epic!” He looked deep into Rajat’s eyes, as if he would pierce through them and enter into his soul. Rajat imbibed the intense communication, by closing his eyes, and feeling Jai’s presence through his soul. He know deep inside, that Jai wasn’t lying. A soul cannot lie! It may change forms and perceptions, but it cannot lie. This was Rajat’s soul.

“We can’t be here for long.” Jai interrupted Rajat’s train of thoughts. ”There are too many people around, and a significant amount of them are presently watching you talk to thin air!”

Rajat turned around, and realized that he was on the high platform in the middle of a park in a place where all others were, perhaps, silent and meditating! He saw a couple of people staring at him in a pretty unforgivable manner. He immediately blushed, and looked at Jai, who sat in front of him.

Jai asked him to get up, and just listen to him. Both of them came out of the crematorium and crossed the narrow street to reach a weird wall full of lifts marked “Shahi Samadhaan”. Rajat saw people getting into the lift hastily. He looked up and saw cable cars running in self-drawn cable paths that materialized and vanished into nothing! The sky level was full of cable cars going and coming from different directions. It was an enigma for Rajat since he arrived in the city. He wondered that who controlled the traffic. Rajat and Jai went to the ‘board’ level, where they were presented with a drop down option to choose their destination.

“Take the northern line to Thapar.” Jai remarked. Rajat looked at him.

“Dude, I can’t touch!” Jai said irritatingly. “I am not a human. I’m not taking the car anyways! I would reach much before it. Meet me at the Rajbaha Woodland”  In an instant, Jai was gone!

Rajat took the cable car to Thapar.

Rajbaha Woodlands

In twenty first century, the forest authorities had developed this two kilometer narrow strip of woods besides the shallow Rajbaha canal into a jogging track amidst the untamed nature. Bound by roads on both the sides, it was an unexpected piece of wilderness in the heart of a city. With time, they had introduced small animals, with the monkeys being the first colonizers, however, today, the black bucks often roamed around the roads and neighborhood.  In absence of a predator, their number had once increased a lot. That was the time that they were shifted to nearby deer park and only fifteen black bucks were allowed to be in the woodlands at any time, with only four females.

Jai stood on the gate of the woodlands as Rajat descended the lift at the station.

“This is my home, Rajat.” He said.

“How do you even manage?” Rajat asked as he entered the green and calm woodlands.

“ Rajat, I know now that the accident in which you died wasn’t an accident at all!” Jai suddenly changed the topic.

(To continue tomorrow….)

The Crematorium

Patiala, India

As they got down at the Baradari Cable-car station, Rajat and Vibhu saw a formidable temple spire across the road.

“That is the Kali temple.” Vibhu pointed out to the white and red color spire.

They descended down to the ground level quickly as Vibhu continued, “We are already a bit late. The temple lamps would be lit by now. If they start the fire ritual, we won’t be able to enter for an hour. They stop the entry.” He continued moving fast as he talked. “ We need to reach there soon.”

As Vibhu descended the lift, he transformed into his true self, a tall and handsome young man. He pulled Rajat by his arms, “Hey, don’t worry, the magic doesn’t work here. I can’t hide myself from the Goddess. Just come fast, we need to go!”

Rajat had a bewildered look on his face. He had never seen a human being transform this way. He wore a puzzled look on his face as both of them rushed to the temple gates.

They had barely managed to enter the sanctum sanctorum when the gates closed behind them. They would’ve missed it by seconds, had they been a bit late!

Just moments after they entered the temple, all the lights went off. It was pitch dark in the temple. In that moment of silence, it felt that the whole universe was closing in on them, entering into an infinitesimally small nothingness. The silence was suddenly broken by the sound of five conches blown together. As the sound faded away into an echo, there was a moment of silence once again. The silence and darkness were both broken by the kettledrums and nine lamps as the fire ritual started. The lamps would be rotated in front of the Goddess as the first prayer of the day. The kettledrums were joined with trumpets, plates and conches to form a mix of greatest tumult and trance that Rajat had ever heard. As the gongs and temple bells added up, the sound became a sound of unison of diverse vibrations. The ritual continued and culminated in closure of the curtains before the deity. Moments before the lights were to be switched on, Rajat felt someone pulling his arm. Before he realized what was happening, Rajat was being led into darkness through a descent. The sounds kept getting farther and farther, till it became pitch dark and silent again. It was warm, and a bit suffocating. He touched the warm hand that held him.

“ Where are we going, Vibhu?” Rajat asked in confusion.

The sound came from behind. “Don’t worry Rajat. We are safe!” The sound wasn’t Vibhu’s. 

As they walked on for some time, Rajat saw a light at the end of the tunnel. As they ascended, the light became too bright for Rajat to bear. As he accommodated his eyes, Rajat found himself standing in front of  a classical red building. Right in front of the building was a red signboard with golden letters carved on it. The board read:

SHAHI SAMAADHAN: THE ROYAL CREMATORIUM