fहndi - Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya
fहndi - Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya fहndi - Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya
'Parul?' the wife was well into thespiritual atmosphere of the place.'The daughter-in-law of our kin, Sujata.Don't you think so — eyes, lips — exactlylike these we are seeing'...Seated in the boat they crossed theriver. The children scooped water into theirhands and flung it high into the sky likefountains, and the elders growled at themto stop. Sharmaji shook his head likeNandi, Shiva's bull, and reiterated thesolemnity of the occasion. The childrendid not understand this call for solemnity,sitting in the boat, rocking to the jollyslaps of the wind, a float on the broadbreast of the Ganga. Hadn't grandfathergot relief from his illness by dying, dyingin a natural death? The dirty foamswimming on the face of the river led themto talking about the Ganga CleaningCampaign : this was not the time fordebates with the elders.In the temple across the river arenowned yogi was holding discourses.Devotees from far away had congregatedto hear him. Son Number Two had heardthat he was a seer and soothsayer. Problemsof office and job came crowding into hismind. He might have a solution. Why notmeet him? Sharmaji had listed the namesof several top ministers and leaders whocame to consult the yogi. 'All come to him',he'd said, 'from the highest to the lowest,come to hear him'.'We'll go, definitely', Son Number Oneread his brother's mind and said to thewomenfolk, 'You too go along, have hisdarshan. A proven guru he is; we don'thave the time to hear his discourse, ourschedule is tight, but yet...'On the stone walls of the Gita templeshlokas from the Bhagwatgita wereetched — the dialogue of Krishna andArjun in the battle field, the soul'simmortality, the significance of karma, lineslike 'weapons do not pierce it',' yours isonly the right to do your duty...'The youngest girl set to, reading theshlokas on the walls, while the othermembers of the family were away seekingthe darshan of the yogi. 'Father used tosay, "Performing your karma is solely upto you. If your good sense and judgmentare with you, why fear public censure andsocial opprobrium?" Father remained dutyconsciousand duty-abiding to the last, buthis body failed him at the end. Boreimmense pain. Who bears the innatetroubles of whom? That is left to the body.Dying far away and off from the shadeof trees planted by one's own self is alsoa strong truth among the truths of time.Work-duties — job — where is there anytime and space apart from these? Howcomplex life has become! The youngest sonstayed with him to the end, and for thisfather blamed himself to the end.The clothes went frayed and the soultook off in search of new clothes. Aftermany years of nightly vigils, father sankinto deep sleep. At peace, free of strife.fgndi •April-June 2013 :: 115
He won his mukti in that instant ofwakeless sleep.The sons left nothing undone, ofcourse. The casket of father's ashes heldin their hands raised above their heads,wading through neck deep waters, they sentafloat his ashes in the quick-streams of theriver, into the lap of mother Ganga. Eachson clasping the other by the right shoulder,standing in a row they bid their finalfarewell to father. The daughters anddaughters-in-law wiped their eyes with thecorners of their saris, the paternal andmaternal aunts prayed to Maa Ganga, thegiver of release. And the younger girl, hersobs held in her throat, stood watchingthe ashes skimming over the ripples of theriver, skimming away far, far away.This very same father, rowing acrossthe lake on stormy winds, had come tothe small island where he had been stayingfor many days with his children and theirailing mother. The doctors had advisedclean air and weather for the patient. Inpouring rain and heavy storm, the childrenhad stood on the shore, nervously scanningthe boats coming from far away. Fatherturned up, finally. And suddenly, fromamidst the storm winds, the sun hadsmiled. The children had been chantingpapa-papa even as his boat was far off.Father did not get as fatigued from hisday-long toils as from the scattering of hisfamily that his wife's illness had caused.The song he had sung that day, sittingin the shikara, suddenly came back to theyounger girl. 'On this sea are storms andhigh winds, boats innumerable areswimming on it, some drown, and some,tumbling along on the waves, stay a-swim...'.Wander, flow, and tumbling along arethe givers of life, storms and high windsits given conditions. For the sufis andmahatmas, to drown is to reach the goal,to merge with the beloved, decipheringwhose mystery a lifetime goes by...But father was no saint. Was anordinary man - with his own virtues andshort-comings. About the tribulations oflife, however, he neither complained norsank down on his knees : never soughtthe shoulders of tantrics or mystics as leantosfor attaining mukti. In the performingof duty he had unshakable faith. That waswhy, even after his wife's death, along withkeeping his scattered household together,he knocked around for helping relativesand kin too. Not for winning praise andadmiration : but solely because of hisnaturally sympathetic temper that couldn'thelp reaching out to those in need of beingreached. But looking at the hosts ofdissatisfied men and women around, herealised that inner peace was not anythingyou could gift to people, every individualhad to earn it himself or herself. And nowthese ashes of his! Will they stay a-swirlwith the swirls of the river? Or will theyflow far, far, peacefully riding in the lapof the Ganga like a new born child clingingto its mother's breast?116 :: April-June 2013fgndi •
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'Parul?' the wife was well into thespiritual atmosphere of the place.'The daughter-in-law of our kin, Sujata.Don't you think so — eyes, lips — exactlylike these we are seeing'...Seated in the boat they crossed theriver. The children scooped water into theirhands and flung it high into the sky likefountains, and the elders growled at themto stop. Sharmaji shook his head likeNandi, Shiva's bull, and reiterated thesolemnity of the occasion. The childrendid not understand this call for solemnity,sitting in the boat, rocking to the jollyslaps of the wind, a float on the broadbreast of the Ganga. Hadn't grandfathergot relief from his illness by dying, dyingin a natural death? The dirty foamswimming on the face of the river led themto talking about the Ganga CleaningCampaign : this was not the time fordebates with the elders.In the temple across the river arenowned yogi was holding discourses.Devotees from far away had congregatedto hear him. Son Number Two had heardthat he was a seer and soothsayer. Problemsof office and job came crowding into hismind. He might have a solution. Why notmeet him? Sharmaji had listed the namesof several top ministers and leaders whocame to consult the yogi. 'All come to him',he'd said, 'from the highest to the lowest,come to hear him'.'We'll go, definitely', Son Number Oneread his brother's mind and said to thewomenfolk, 'You too go along, have hisdarshan. A proven guru he is; we don'thave the time to hear his discourse, ourschedule is tight, but yet...'On the stone walls of the Gita templeshlokas from the Bhagwatgita wereetched — the dialogue of Krishna andArjun in the battle field, the soul'simmortality, the significance of karma, lineslike 'weapons do not pierce it',' yours isonly the right to do your duty...'The youngest girl set to, reading theshlokas on the walls, while the othermembers of the family were away seekingthe darshan of the yogi. 'Father used tosay, "Performing your karma is solely upto you. If your good sense and judgmentare with you, why fear public censure andsocial opprobrium?" Father remained dutyconsciousand duty-abiding to the last, buthis body failed him at the end. Boreimmense pain. Who bears the innatetroubles of whom? That is left to the body.Dying far away and off from the shadeof trees planted by one's own self is alsoa strong truth among the truths of time.Work-duties — job — where is there anytime and space apart from these? Howcomplex life has become! The youngest sonstayed with him to the end, and for thisfather blamed himself to the end.The clothes went frayed and the soultook off in search of new clothes. Aftermany years of nightly vigils, father sankinto deep sleep. At peace, free of strife.fgndi •April-June 2013 :: 115
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