The Curse; and the Shadows of Fantasy!!
The Oracle’s house became crowded. Anxiety spread around the pedestal of the basil plant. Shadows of question-marks hung under the blossomed Golden Shower tree. The progenies of fear stood breathlessly near the stone walls.
The Oracle was sitting in front of the veranda, steadfast and serene. In front of their beloved prophet, the villagers, with fear and devotion, showed gestures and moved their lips.
“It started three days back. When all of us were asleep, began the showering of stone on the roof. When we came outside the house, it stopped. And we couldn’t trace any one. Whatever be the wish of Bhagavati, we are ready to do."
The Oracle stared at them continuing his tranquil state. His fingers moved indifferently through his long hair. The next moment he closed his eyes and fell into a deep trance. His meditative mind flew inside the puja room and encircled the deity a thousand times. His heart begged with devotion.
“My Goddess, show me the way. This is the request of your devotee!"
The standing floor-lamp was burning incessantly. Mind became tranquilized with the flavor of camphor. Every thought and every word became pranava. Then, revealed the divine words of Bhagavati.
“Go back to your homes without any tension. Nothing will happen from now onwards. But don’t forget to light a lamp in front of your Savior, lying under the peepal tree. It should be kindled every evening without any obstacle.”
The crowd dispersed. Crossing the fields, they reached the village road, on the side of which stood the colossal peepal tree with its head held as high as the sky. The Savior of the village, inherent in the effigy lying under the peepal tree, smiled at them; a black smile that reminded them of the forgotten days of remembrance. It murmured, “don’t forget me; let my blessings be always with you.”
The crowd breathed oddly and jointly. Dark night blossomed in their breaths. Extracting the huge peepal tree by its roots, the Savior tossed it into the air and caught it by his hands repeatedly, like a child playing with his toy. He walked along the road with heavy footsteps and the terrifying sound of his anklets reverberated in the night.
Twilight….
When the oily wick lit up under the peepal tree kindled with full brilliance, the Savior woke up; the dreams of the Savior arose. The peepal leaves chanted the holy melody of night. Wearing his anklets, the Savior guarded the village from the unexpected disasters of night. ….and the people slept peacefully.
……During the depths of night, when shooting-stars were playing trapeze dance in the sky, the Oracle, sitting near his puja room, continued his stories. Next to him sat Unni in the Padmasana pose, supporting his chin with his palms, and with never-ending doubts filled in his sparkling eyes.
“What happened then, Dad?”
Peeping through the ages, the Oracle recalled that story of curse.
It was the story of the mountain. The mountain was just a mountain then. Lying on its back, with face upward, persistently staring at the sky, the mountain thought that it was supporting the sky and preventing it from falling down. Its arrogance exceeded all its limits and exploded in words.
“O, Varuna! The God of Celestial Ocean! what do you think about me? You have no existence without me. It is my powerful eyes that support you without any trouble. If I withdraw my glance for a second, the whole sky, your entire kingdom will fall down and will become ashes!”
When the pride of the summit reached far beyond the sky, Varuna’s anger blazed like anything. Every night, thousands of shooting stars fell over the mountain. Each star became a rock; sharp black rocks with marrow and flesh. They became the nightmares of a village. The curse of the mountain became the course of a village.
Unni could not sleep that night. His thoughts wandered sleeplessly throughout the night.
“The lovely rocks that used to nap under the gentle warmth of my footsteps were once the kids of stars of the sky!!” He could not believe it.
….The shooting stars continued to fall on the mountain, and they became sharp rocks!!
“Dad, why do you become a prophet in this accursed village?” Unni asked.
“My dear child, everything happened because of that curse”, the Oracle continued. “Due to the ever increasing pride of a mountain, Varuna cursed it. As I told, the curse of a mountain is converted into the curse of a village. The village lost its peace. Wherever peace is lost, prophet becomes inevitable.”
“Tell me Dad; was that savior under the peepal tree a prophet?” Unni could not restrain his anxiety.
In the puja room, there occurred a slight vibration on the deity of the Bhagavati. A divine dance flashed in the layers of darkness. Beyond the darkness, beyond the illusions, the Oracle’s powerful mind wandered in search of the Absolute Entity that was shining with the power of a hundred thousand suns. The centuries that enjoyed story telling somewhere in the past again arose to reveal the truth.……
……The youths sitting under the shadow of the peepal tree suddenly cried with fear. There appeared a saint from within that peepal tree. His face was shining with radiance, and he had a beautiful tuft accumulating his entire ascetic power. The youths, unable to speak anything, prostrated before him with deep reverence.
Then they heard a magnificent voice, “My dear children, what boon do you want?”
With amazement and fear the youths looked at each other. They were five in numbers. Then the one, who had six fingers on his hands, thought for a second. His hands reached into his pouch. From there he took the cowries, in which the cosmic planets were dwelling. He sat down and drew lines and squares on the floor. He populated the squares with the cowries. His palm moved over the cowries in a peculiar style. The cowries jingled in some unknown language. Finally, when the knowledge of revelation inspired him, he looked the other four youths. Then with their folded fists, they shouted in chorus.
“Give us a boon that makes us Never Feel Hungry!”
The lips of the saint vibrated to raise another question. At the same time, the chorus voice of the youths became more and more powerful and exploded in every molecule of the air.
“Give us a boon that makes us Never Feel Hungry!”
The mantra spilled within the lips of the saint became sacred pranava; that became one in tune with the music of the peepal leaves…..
….The stone effigy fell down under the peepal tree. Extracting the peepal tree by its roots and tossing it in the air, the Savior walked through the village. The terrifying sound of his anklets scattered in the dreadful silence of darkness!!
The roar of thunder and flash of lightning cracked the sky. Wearing the black masks of sorrow, the afflicted clouds wandered through the sky. Then, started heavy rain. Rain continued without the hope for an end. Everything that has a beginning should have an end. Flood and cosmic dissolution happens at the end of each Kalpa.
Unni tried to control his mind wandering through mahayugas and manvantaras, and came back to the present moment.
The Oracle continues……
….. In the beginning they all belonged to the same race. But over the passage of time, the complexity of life separated them. They understood the first person. He was intelligent; he was poet; he was ascetic. With his imaginations and thinking power he stood far ahead the other three. The others respected and approved him as their master. They said:
“You are our master; you are our leader; you represent us and you represent God. Please bless us with the blessings of the blessed one.”
Then the second person came forward and said, “You protect us with the divine blessing. In turn I will protect you physically. I will protect this village with my physical power.”
Taking two steps backward, he moved forward and performed a somersault in the air. He took a feather and adorned his hair. Keeping his hand tightly on the hilt of his sword he stood in front of the first person with deep reverence……
“What happened to the third and fourth person, Dad?” Unni asked.
“Nobody knows!”, said the Oracle, “Nobody saw them or cared about them then. But, they are still alive. Have you seen that peepal tree? On its trunk lives the third person; and on its roots the fourth!”
……Unni walked, crossing the farmlands lined up with Palmyra palm trees. Evening wind passed through his ears with a gentle pat and whistle. “There is a twilight for today too; the twilight owned by my mountain!” Unni thought.
Growing shadows whispered. “Where are you going Unni, in this late evening?”
Questions are not relevant; the answers too! If the questioners are just shadows, the questions will be fantasies. The mountain is just in front. “My next step is on your head.”
The mountain chilled under Unni’s footsteps. “Unni, you have not forgotten me.”
Unni conquered the heights slowly and slowly. The suffocated black rocks moved towards the bottom. The ways are harder and dangerous like razor’s edge; but the will is stronger and soothing like a winner’s heart.
“At last, I have reached here.” Unni lay down on his back and looked at the sky. Millions of stars stared at him. “Unni has come”, the kids of stars pattered. They danced with joy and blinked their eyes.
“Yes, I am here to meet you all. I am here to greet the light of life; the light coming through millions of light years and surpassing myriads of rotating spheres of the universe. This is my camp where I enjoy consolation. This is my abode of salvation. Here, life and death integrate with a rhythm.”
Twilight passed to darkness. The ocean of darkness spread over the mountain gradually. A startling wave of lightning suddenly rushed from the forgotten worlds of heaven.
Unni woke up suddenly with a shock. “Where am I? Where is my savior? Has he awakened while the wick kindles under the peepal tree? Have the dreams of the effigy awakened? I want to see him walking through the streets, tossing the peepal tree with his hands like a toy. I want to hear the frightening music of his anklets.”
Unni stood up. Group of sharp rocks created dark shadows. The dark shadows became alive. They commanded strictly, “don’t move!”
Star kids fell down from the sky and became rocks. More rocks, more shadows. Unni tried to move with hesitant steps. Where to put the next step? Darkness is too heavy! Unable to stick to his feet, the mountain slipped away from under his feet…….
Darkness….darkness….only the red eyed darkness everywhere…!!
Like it on Facebook, Tweet it or share this article on other bookmarking websites.