Showing posts with label my story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my story. Show all posts

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 Road to East

Mecca, Arabia

Wazir Khan had heard this somewhere else. Sitting with him on the coach to Medina was a gentlemen of apparently Middle Eastern descent, but what he spoke reminded him of some place else.

“Where do you belong to, Sir?” He asked the gentleman politely.

“I don’t know?” The answer came back, short and crisp.

“Oh. I am sorry.” Wazir realized that it’s best to be courteous, even to the rudest, when at Mecca.

The gentleman continued his chant. He kept repeating the same sentence again and again. He seemed to be in trance. Wazir Khan could not resist and asked him again.

“Sir, as you are in Mecca – I believe that you have to be a Muslim.”

“Yes, I am. Why do you ask this?” The man replied - a bit puzzled.

“Because of your chants.” Khan replied.

“It might be a verse in a heavenly language! God konws!” The gentleman replied.

Wazir Khan smiled and then enquired. “Oh, is it? Are you from India, sir?”

The gentleman looked frustrated. “India? Is it east or west?”

“Oh I see, you don’t know where India is?” Wazir was clearly being sarcastic now. “Where are you from, then sir?”

The gentleman opened a folder lying on his side and took a notebook out. He read. “This piece of paper tells me that I belong to Turkey, but I haven’t been there since years. I went to Armenia, Azerbaijan, Iran, Iraq, Syria, Jordan, Cyprus, Israel, Egypt and Arabia. It does not mention about India. I don’t understand why my chants amuse you so much.”

“Wazir Khan looked at the document, rather surprised. It clearly showed that he was a Muslim. Further it testified that he never even visited India. His name was clearly spelt. BURAK ASKER.

“What does your chant mean?” He asked.

“I do not know. I heard them in a dream. I got hooked since then!” Burak answered.

By now Wazir Khan was sure that he wan’t dealing with a normal phenomena. The man was either mad, or too clever; either he was the devil or he was a sage.

“Sir, do you have any idea what your chants mean and what they are?” Wazir Khan asked.

“I truly don’t know, brother.” Burak answered rather simply.

“The chants are religious, yes, but not in Islam. They are religious chants of the archaic Sanskrit – their holy tongue of India.” Wazir Khan disclosed. He had heard them often at Somapuri.

“Are you from the East?” Burak suddenly shouted.

 “Wazir Khan turned his eyes in a partial disgust. “Where do you intend to go?”

“East.” Burak answered

“East where, sir!” Wazir Khan asked.

“On the high mountains” Burak answered.

Wazir looked towards him; even more amused. It was meaningless to explain him that how ‘big’ east was. He just said. “I go to east as well. Be my guest.”


Burak smiled. “Inshallah. God is great!”. This was all he said.