PARIJAT-17

Walking under the hot sun of the village drains you out. But it is amazing to see how the villagers work. It is out and out in that hot sun beginning before the day wakes up and ending after the day sleeps. It is a daily routine. It is a habit. It is a companion. It is long since John had a taste of that walk. But still it appears not that far and lost. It was hovering only a few steps back.

It was school days. Summer school starts early but ends up awkwardly in noon, right in the noon when the sun is overhead. it was long walk from the school in that hot sun when everything dazzles ,blinds you in that dazzling while mirages dance the dance of false hope and illusion. It looks cool in that scorching hot. Hand stretches to touch that coolness. Mind moves to kiss that magnificence. But it moves and moves as you move. It is separated by a distance. The distance never closes on. But the life moves on. Strange mind! Strange hope! Strange life! Strange feeling! Everything looks alluring. Every thing looks captivating. But does it exist. Imagination is a strange artist. It dwarfs the reality. Running after that mirage, running after that imagination, we stumble upon the reality of life to realize that we have not gone far. But we have not run a futile race. It has its pleasure. It has its charm. Neglect not! Omit not! Ignore not! Experience it! But never get lost. Walk with the imagination while talking to the reality. Dichotomy? May be!

The sun is pouring heat. Thin lines of hairs on John’s head are no protection. Sweat is oozing out in tiny drops. Slowly those tiny drops are reassembling and gaining volume. The potential of position is dragging it down. It rolls through the temple before dropping down from the chin. John moved his fingers trough the hairs. Movements of fingers smashed those tiny droplets of sweat. He could feel cool, pleasantly cool. He hurried his steps towards his house. Mango grove surrounding his house is nearing fast. Soon he is there, under the soothing comforts of shade of trees. Slow breeze is playing hide and seek amongst the bunches of tiny mango flowers, bloomed, half bloomed and yet to be bloomed. The low level horizontal branches of mango tree form natural swings. He halted for a moment and stood leaning his back and transferring his weight to a low level horizontal branch of a mango tree. He pushed his feet against the ground. The branch started reciprocating in short and horizontal oscillating motion. The golden oriole sitting some where flapped its wings and started cooing. It jumped around spreading those golden wings.

From a distance suddenly the synergic and auspicious sound of bugle and sehnai combined with intermittent blow of conch started conveying a moment of happiness. Yes, happiness, that eternal happiness for which the every heart longs and waits. It is marriage, a happy union announcing the beginning of a new beginning.

John does not understand that. He has never tried to. It is relatively late for him. He has never counted and tried to remember. But he vaguely guesses that earth has already made forty five full motions around the sun since he has seen the light of the day. A strange inquisitiveness is floating up. He wishes to witness that process. The most sacred process on the earth rationalized by human being. He has attended many. He has swung and danced amongst the gangs accompanying bride groom on his journey to the house of bride to tie that sacred knot. He has laughed, joked and chided the bride along with other friends of bridegroom before the start of the marriage. All these he had done mechanically out of shear joy associated with a friend’s marriage. But he has never been to intricacies associated with the steps of marriage which spans an entire night. But he appreciates that greatest institution and greatest invention of mankind though he never intends to associate and involve himself in that. A confirmed bachelorhood is his way of life, he has decided. No he has not decided. Over a period of time it has happened to him. Time has gushed by. John has not realized that. That is life! Many things happen before we realize that. Flow of events, known and unknown, sweet and shour, agony and ecstasy, ugly and beautiful, laughter and cry, gloom and smile, all flow by and we flow with that knowingly and yet unknowingly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------.

Village roads are lost in the darkness of night. John is used to it. Moving along with the sheer darkness of night is not new to him. It is darkness and confusion. Where is the light? Where is the pleasure and shear joy of pure knowledge? Knowledge that is humane, encompassing and uplifting. Knowledge that lifts human souls out of ordinary, out of all confusion and narrowness. Every body is talking of its superiority over others. Everybody talks they are ultimate. Follow me or you are lost. No, it is not knowledge. It is not unifying, rather it is dividing. Where is that unifying knowledge? Where it is? The quest is on. Where shall it end? Whether it will end in that destination or will be lost in that oblivion?

John has reached near that marriage mandap-canopy decorated with flowers and with a fire as witness. It is Hindu marriage with every step rooted in Vedic tradition. The process is about to be over. The bride and bridegroom are taking seven steps together around the nuptial fire with the seven promises singing in unison.

With God as our guide, let us take:

the first step to nourish each other,

the second step to grow together in strength,

the third step to preserve our wealth,

the fourth step to share our joy and sorrows,

the fifth step to care for our children,

the sixth step to be together for ever,

the seventh step to remain lifelong friends,

the perfects halves to make a perfect whole.

“With seven steps we become friends. Let me reach your friendship. Let me not be severed from your friendship. Let your friendship not be severed from me.”

The bridegroom came over bride’s shoulder and touched her heart and started saying:

“I hold your heart in serving fellowship; your mind follows my mind. In my word you rejoice with all your heart. You are joined to me by the Lord of all creatures.”

The groom then tied the Mangal suthra(sacred chain) in the neck of the bride’s and put sindhoor(vermilion powder) in her parted hair just above the forehead symbolizing her as married woman.

The sound of conch turned into crescendo as John along with those assembled showered flowers on newly wedded couple and blessed them.

John does not remember how many times he has done this in the past. But for the first time he has become spell bound at the sacred sight of unison. It exists everywhere. It exists in every religion. Irrespective of ethinicity, religion and culture, it is prevalent everywhere. But who created that? Certainly not so called messiahs of God who have divided this human being in name of religion. It exists before them. It is the greatest unifying philosophy and institution of world. Is it not irony we do not know who created that and united us, but we know all messiahs who divided us?

Parijats, is it not paining HIM when HE sees HIS children are divided by HIS name? Alas!