Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts

The Language of God!


The Kamakoti Peetam
Kanchipuram, India

Madhavendra Saraswati was the Shankaracharya of Kanchi – the one who bore the light of the Adi Shankara down the ages from eighth century. He was the closest parallelism to the catholic pope in Vedantic branch of Hinduism yet, he couldn’t have been more different from the pope. His home was an ancient one room apartment at the Kanchi Math and his belongings were a floor rug made of dried twigs, an earthen tumbler, a stick that went well over his head and a sac full of clothes and daily needs. For clothes, he wore a loincloth and an angavastram. For one hour a day, he would sew clothes for the deities with his own hands which were sold in market and for which he was paid five rupees a day. For one hour, he would oversee the accounts of the instiution, for which he was paid ten rupees a day. His third duty was taking care of two cows at the Gaushala cowshed in which, he spent two hours a day. He was paid twenty rupees for this task. In addition, he performed daily pujas at the temple for two hours, met people for one hour and taught Vedas to the students for one hour. For this, he was provided a luxury of free stay and conveyance. For the rest of day, he would be allowed to spend time on his personal wish. He would usually read, meditate, sleep or do his daily chores in this time. He was given fifty days of paid leave in a year when he could make journeys. On his excursions, he was allowed three staff –a driver, an umbrella man and a flag bearer, who bore his flag with the Sanskrit epitaph : ‘Dharmorakshati rakshita’ – protected righteousness protects.

Shankara sat in his room on the straw mat with his legs folded in lotus posture ready to receive people who had come from around the world to meet him. “There is a teacher with a group of students.” He said to his attendant. “Tell him that I only want to meet him with the student who comes from deserts of the west. Rest of them, I will meet tomorrow.”

It was the second day of Prof. Kalia’s sabbatical with his students. As he waited outside the seer’s room for a hearing, the attendant announced –“A teacher who comes with a student from the deserts of the west.”

Kalia gestured Burak to move in. He told rest of the students to wait.

As Burak entered the room, he was astonished. He saw that the seer with an unintelligible name, who he was told was also called Shakara of Kanchi, and whom for the ease of conversation, they had all shortened to Kanchi was a face that looked so familiar, that he was in a dilemma as to where he had seen him.

Madhavendra Saraswati saw the look om Burak’s face. He smiled and asked them to sit. As they sat,  the seer rose up and approached Burak and touched his head as he said, “I’ll solve your problems.”
As he touched him, he saw flashes of the past in his mind.  He saw his circumambulation of the Ka’aba turn into a garden with people walking with him. In a flash, he saw the seer pass him with a group of people following him. As he chanted, he turned around and smiled at him, before vanishing into a milky white light.

Burak’s eyes widened. He saw the seer smiling before him. He couldn’t speak anything.

By now Kanchi had moved on to Kalia. “ I am leaving on vacations tomorrow for Rishikesh. You can accompany me with your group.  I shall make the arrangements for you if you say. It is an unanticipated leave.”

As he opened his mouth to speak, the seer spoke before him, “come you must.”
 Kalia closed his mouth. He had nothing left to say. It would be difficult to re-plan everything, especially since the students were there with him, but he would have to do it anyways.
Burak looked around him. This place was completely strange for him. It was getting chokingly fragrant –all his senses were awakened. However his sixth sense knew another thing – it was the time for his evening prayers.

Shankara understood what was in Burak’s mind and asked Kalia mildly, “I want to talk to your student alone.” Kalia bowed and left the room.  He dispersed the attendant thereafter.
“We will do the oblations before the prayers Burak.” He said as he offered him water.
As burak started his prayers, he felt his surroundings change once again. Madhavendra was by his side, praying with him – his attire miraculously changed. After he finished, Burak turned toward the seer and saw him sitting in meditation. 

He was outraged.
“What was all that?” he barked.

“I was just praying along with you.” The seer answered.

“You were praying my way.” Burak said.

“I don’t even know a word  of the language you were speaking.” Shankara smiled. “If you saw something, maybe it was an indication from the god that he sees all the prayers the same.”

Shankara was smiling at him all the time. “Our time is over, I’ll meet you tomorrow morning now.” He said calmly.

Burak stormed out of the room in disbelief.

Deborah's Pain


7
Deborah's Residence, London

“I hope I’ll get some time to prepare some notes before I leave for the supper.
Thomas said, breaking the silence.

“The supper is ready reverend. Have it here!” Deborah said with a mild smile.

“Thanks. That would be so kind of you.” Thomas answered.

“Great, I’ll be back.” Deborah replied with as she disappeared into the kitchen.

 She was back in a short while with the supper. “Its modest reverend - Shepherd’s Pie with bread and port wine from Portugal.”

“That’s excellent Deborah.” Thomas replied.

Both of them sat for the supper and talked about anything under the sun, or above it till Deborah mentioned:

“The last supper.”

Thomas stopped for a moment.

“Bread and wine.” Deborah mentioned.

“Shepherd’s pie.” Thomas said, and both laughed.

They finished the supper. Thomas sat on the sofa with his notebook to make some notes about the cases. Deborah went in the kitchen

There was a shriek.

“Deborah!”
“Deborah is it you?”

Thomas heard a swooshing as if it were a sound of a whip hitting the skin. There were more shrieks and moans. The sounds were clearly from the kitchen. He rushed there.

The skin of Deborah’s back was torn in tiny shreds – white fascia showing underneath it. Drops of blood were running down her back. Thomas ran towards her, shouting – “Deborah!”

There was a thud – he saw himself pushed away by an invisible force. There was a sound of an invisible whip and as the whip touched Deborah’s back. He saw a mark of nine lashes, and soon shreds of flesh came out of her back, and then there was more blood.

Thomas ran out towards the door calling the police. As the officer in-charge entered, he could hear a multitude of loud moans from the kitchen – in voices of both men and women. The lashes continued.

Thomas called the ambulance. He went to the kitchen again. He saw the officer lying unconscious and Deborah lying in a pool of blood. She tried to stand up, and again there was a lash and she fell down.

“Oh God! The Devil!” Thomas cried and ran to the living room where the cross was kept. He took the cross and holy water from this bag and ran towards Deborah.

Deborah was standing bent forward with her hands up like she was carrying some invisible load on her back. She started moving – tears of blood coming out of her eyes.



In the Name of the Father, 
and of the Son, 
and of the Holy Ghost. 
Amen. 

Thomas started praying.

Most glorious Prince of the Heavenly Armies, 
Saint Michael the Archangel, 
defend us in "our battle against principalities and powers, 
against the rulers of this world of darkness, 
against the spirits of wickedness in the high places"
 
Come to the assistance of men whom God has created to His likeness 
and whom He has redeemed at a great price from the tyranny of the devil. 
 
The Holy Church venerates you as her guardian and protector; 
to you, the Lord has entrusted the souls of the redeemed to be led into heaven. 
Pray therefore the God of Peace to crush Satan beneath our feet, 
that he may no longer retain men captive and do injury to the Church. 
Offer our prayers to the Most High, 
that without delay they may draw His mercy down upon us; 
take hold of "the dragon, the old serpent, which is the devil and Satan," 
bind him and cast him into the bottomless pit 
"that he may no longer seduce the nations.
 
In the Name of Jesus Christ, 
our God and Lord, 
strengthened by the intercession of the Immaculate Virgin Mary, 
Mother of God, 
of Blessed Michael the Archangel, 
of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul and all the Saints. 
and powerful in the holy authority of our ministry,
we confidently undertake to repulse the attacks and deceits of the devil. 
 
 
He sprinkled holy water on Deborah.
 
Out of great astonishment, he saw that where the water touched the skin – the wounds healed immediately. It wasn’t the devil!
 
 As Deborah moved out of the kitchen – Thomas could well understand that Deborah was not possessed by the Devil, she was possessed by the God! She was carrying the cross on her back.
 
Thomas switched on his chip set on recording mode as she went to the living room. She fell down. Thomas knew that he couldn’t help her. He just sprinkled some holy water in the name of the god. 
 
Deborah fell down on the floor. She turned – as though picked up by someone. There was a sound of clinking of iron as if someone had stuck iron nail with a hammer – and then a loud cry and shivering in great pain. Blood flowed from Deborah’s right palm – as though someone nailed her palm.
 

The Ambulance was at the door.