Railway station was empty with some passengers waiting for the early morning trains and beggars and late arrives sleeping on the platform by the side of station walls. Shops were closed and water sprinkled profusely through the public tap. Dim yellowish light of bulbs lead Mehir’s way to the main exit of railway station. He walked down the stairs but there was not a single taxi or auto in front of the entrance but where was Mehir going...errr…hmm…even he had no idea. He kept walking and passed through the boundary walls of railway station that were filled with the posters of latest bollywood movies playing in Varanasi’s theatres, famous coaching institutes and neem hakeems advertising their skills to cure any sexual disease. These walls were also used as a shield and were effectively turned into a urinal. The smell all around pushed Mehir to take some fast steps and he reached the connecting road with no vehicle in site. There were some autos and taxis lying in the parking area but drivers were fast asleep. Mehir preferred not to wake them. At the left corner of station connecting with main road, there were two roads spurting towards left and right. ‘Which one is mine?’ wondered Mehir. He was about to take right when a voice echoed,’ Are bhaiya!!! Kidhar jaat ho raat me akele? Sunsaan sarak baa…koi chor lutera sab samaan paisa cheen li’ (Hey Brother! Where are you going alone? Roads are empty. Some thief will snatch away all your goods and money).
‘I have got nothing valuable in my bag and have very less money in wallet as well’ replied Mehir.
‘Is there something more valuable than your life? Don’t be adamant…come here…have tea. I will arrange a rickshaw for you’ said the man standing behind the small tea stall, which was filled with the smoke of initial coal/charcoal burning.
Mehir had tea and it was better that any of those that he had at better places and hotels. Stall owner asked his helper, a small boy covered from leg to head with a thatched bed sheet knotted around his neck, to run and bring Ramlal along with his rickshaw. It was winter season and cold in northern part of India is unbearable during this phase. But so is the resilience of its people. Many of the poor spend this phase covering their bodies with whatever they could lay their hand on. Long cloths like bed sheets and shawls are wrapped around children of the family to ward off the chilly streak of cold. Helper returned with Ramlal in his rickshaw. Mehir had waited in the small tea stall wondering what he was doing and about his destination from here. Meanwhile the stall owner kept on informing him about the importance of Varanasi in Hindu mythology and palaces to visit in and around Varanasi. Mehir paid for the tea and sat in rickshaw.
“Where could I take you Saab?” asked Ramlal.
“Hmmm…don’t know! Take me anywhere where there is peace. A place that could help me forgot my past, worries of present and that there is something called future” replied Mehir.
“Are saab…I don’t understand what you mean. There is sankatmochan temple, BHU temple and Baba Vishwanath Temple. Where do you want to go?” wondered Ramlal and started peddling his rickshaw.
Mehir wondered where on earth he wanted to go…thought of temples mentioned by Ramlal and said,” which one is the most peaceful? I mean...the least populated. Any place that would be empty where I could be with myself…concentrate and mediate. I want to be alone for a while”
Ramlal turned back, looked at him and said, “what babuji? Is a temple peaceful in India? There would be long queues outside each of these temples. People visit from all parts of India and they make queues from the early morning and temples to remain empty…out of imagination. He paused and continued,”Today only hearts are empty, not any place of worship. We all have turned into a monster waiting to strike and more bad we do, more we visit places of worship….maybe to wash away all the sins.”
Mehir was startled by the serious and meaningful talk of a rickshaw puller. He added,’”I don’t want to go to any of these places. Take me somewhere else.”
Ramlal stopped the rickshaw and said,”There is only one place which can make you meet you soul. It is a place where souls separate from bodies of dead but living meet their soul….Ganga Ghat (Bank of river Ganges). I would take you there” and stirred the rickshaw through the labyrinth of narrow lanes leading towards the bank of river Ganges.
Mehir left Ramlal at the end of the road towards river Ganges and walked alone towards the river. It was early morning and deep red sun was rising from east side of the river. It seemed as Sun was coming out of the river, very slowly rising up in the sky in the far away horizon. Sun looked relaxed, fresh and its rays were low in intensity unlike the daytime. Motion of the Sun slowly from the river gave an impression of someone coming out from the river after bath.
People had already started descending to the river for holy bath. Mehir watched the strength of unabated faith when people plunged themselves into the cold and dirty water at the height of winter season without any remorse. The glow on their face after the bath, all because of their unquestionable faith that all their past sins were washed away by the streams of Ganges, was surprising. Mehir had never been so radiant even after bath in the crystal clear hot water from geyser and layers of creams over his face. He wondered,” Bhakti ki Shakti(Strength of Prayer).”
Far away on the other side of river, small chunk of woods were burning at some distance from each other. Mehir went to a boat and asked its owner,” What’s that brother?”
Boatman replied,” Saab…that’s a shamshaan and those are burning pyres of dead. Mehir had never been to a samsaan but today, he being running away from his own life, it was the best place to be. It is a place where we all summaries our life. He requested the boatman to take him to the other side.
Mehir went and sat on the small temple in the shamshaan. Watching dead bodies being burnt, relatives crying first and being back to normal just after some minutes amused him. We human fight all through their life for money, position, name, fame and lust, to be burnt someday into ashes which leave nothing of you in this world. We are born out of atoms to be ended in atoms. That’s the circle of life.
Lost in his own thoughts, Mehir little did realize that the priest had arrived in the temple. He cleaned the temple, bathed the statue, offered flowers and prayed. All though this, he observed Mehir sitting on the stairs staring towards the flow of Ganges. He completed his prayer and came towards Mehir saying,”Son...have some prasad. Don’t worry. Everything will be ok. Have you lost someone close? I have observed you sitting here for a long time all alone”
Mehir was snatched back from the embrace of thoughts by this little intervention of priest. He smiled and took the prasad. “No…I didn’t lose anyone today. I have lost myself. It didn’t happen in a single day but was stretched across years.” Mehir paused for a while and then continued,” Running in the race of life…..running for money, appreciation and fame…somewhere in the process I lost myself. I lost the ground to capture sky which I could never reach. I lost everything to find something that would never be mine.”
Priest didn’t look amused. He had seen people wondering over their life’s earning and learning but this sort of feeling is always momentarily. When you sitting in a shamshaan with pyres burning all around. It is nothing but natural to have extreme stream of emotions running through your blood. Priest took Mehir around the temple, offering water and murmuring the slokas of gita to calm him down.
Mehir sat with his back on one of the pillars of the temple. Priest was still sitting along with him. There was no one in the temple. Wind coming through the direction of Ganges’ flow had cooled down the surrounding. Sun had risen through the horizon and it had transformed dark foggy dawn into a wonderful clear day. Priest looking at Mehir wondered,” You seem to belong to a well to do family, learned and intelligent. What has made you so sad? Why are you wondering about life and death when you have a long life to live? Go back to your home….you will forget everything in some days. Everything will be back to normal”
Mehir looked into the eyes of priest and asked,” Why didn’t you go back to your home”
Priest was socked by this question. He looked away, collected himself and replied,” I am a Sanyasi. I have no family. I am away from all Moahs and Mayas.”
Mehir’s question caught the priest off guard. He tried to divert the attention of Mehir and asked,” Why are you so sad? Let it flow out of you. This is God’s home. You learned people may not believe in God but it is the only reason for my existence. If you could believe me even for a second, bring the past out and throw it into the Ganges. Ganges will take it alongside. Let the bygones be bygones. Destroy the past. Start afresh. Make a new beginning.” pushed the priest.
Mehir shook his head in negative but didn’t reply. Puzzled priest took his arm around Mehir. Mehir felt the warmth of his father around him. It was always easy to curl up in father’s arm after every mischief hoping to avoid mother’s warth. He would first correct the mistakes of Mehir and then would take him for a walk telling him the stories of great people and their life. He had never scold Mehir but his words of wisdom would always make Mehir accept his mistakes with a promise to never repeat it. Mehir started crying with his head over priest’s shoulder.
Priest asked slowly,” What happened, Son? Who are you?
Mehir relaxed himself by the pillar and replied,” I am an IT professional working for one of the most reputed organisations of India. My life has been on run and in the process I kept losing small parts of me that when I gather today seem to be a larger section of myself. I have lost my values which my father imbedded in me. I have lost strength to face someone because I could not cover for my faults. I have money, home and cars etc. but I am alone. I don’t remember when I last visited my sister’s home. I don’t remember when I called my mother on my own. My brother is working but what does he do. I have got no idea. I write code with no bugs. Customers appreciate my work. I have won many awards and accolades but not any heart. A small life for me seems to be too long to live now.
Today after many years, God snatches me back and plays the past to make me realise how much have I lost and whom have I alienated and hurt. IT’s life. It’s my life”
Priest added,” What is your story and whom did you hurt?”
..........can be continued
