Subramanian’s story dwells on embracing life’s quiet moments and reveals profound truths. Explore the power of silence, memory, and simple human connection for Different Truths.
A vrat for a day or a few hours is rarely considered, however edible and cleansing it may be. There is always a skein of scepticism about anything, especially spiritual uplift.
Satish had advanced to 70-plus, living life as it came. He had aspirations, of course, and covered half the distance in it. You are never perfect, nor can you aspire to be. Age inevitably mellowed him, though his name had a ring of youth. Let it rest there.
He told his close mate,” I’m going to try Mauna Vrat for 10 hours tomorrow, see how it works. Think am nuts?”
His mate was always sanguine, at home with himself. “I know what it means. Tell me how you felt”.
Satish told his wife that he wanted to go about it with optimal self-denial – avoiding mobile devices or any activity, and his own mind as the sole (rather, soul) companion. She was given to reading the Gita and the Upanishads. She had an ingrained fascination for Sanskrit and learnt it as a tapasya. And a Sai devotee to boot.
“Go ahead…I will take care of your needs.”
Satish shut the door, lay on the bed, and closed his eyes. Time drifted slowly…then steadily. Stray sounds from outside of vehicles passed over him breezily.
He heard his breathing, nothing else. Mists of nameless or not worth naming flow of thoughts, with an old, trendy song of his youth ringing in the void. He steeled himself.
He was aware of time, hanging heavy sometimes, and passing by. He trekked his bedroom for quite some time, and he must have covered some distance.
He kept his eyes closed, said prayers. A non-smoker, he felt his lungs were stronger and vocal chords upfront- his voice a lot more resonant. “ If silence for so long could refurbish his bloodstream and channel his mind away from the negative world, it is worth it.“
At 5 pm, he opened the door, which was intermittently closed, and smiled at his wife. “It’s over, dear. How about a cup of hot coffee?” Her smile was complimentary.
His mate went a step further and surprised him with a query.
“ So, did it take you away from rancour, dark thoughts?”
Though it had not struck him, Satish nodded.. said in a tone of finality. “ Yes, it did.”
An afterthought is also a thought.
………..
What’s in a picture?
He had become a solitary reaper. An old picture, gold that it was, rekindled memories which for a moment resembled the rainbow.
It was his sister’s marriage pix where the entire kin had posed in the stellar avenues of life and hope. He knew his sister had a natural beauty; his elder brothers were anchoring the bow, one of whom had academic sparklers of his own.
Yours truly was breathing the green ambience of a renowned college in the capital of Kerala, studious and library-bound.
Two of his cousins, too, were there, one of whom, in the space of a decade and a half, fell a prey to a congenital cardiac problem. He spent his years in the battle, breathing heavily while climbing the stairs. “ I hate to visit my kin in apartments that have no lift.” He said it ruefully because his heart couldn’t bear the pummel.
In a way, it was a relief to him when he passed away before turning 40. He left his wife and child, who were well taken care of later. Circumstances were kind to them. It was fortuitous, though.
Recalling these flashes amounted to a dim reliving of the days spent with him, his humour and self-deprecation, his instinctive feel for Tamil poetry and literature. He had a penchant for puns.
Times had paddled its way quite since then. Those faces had mellowed and been marred in the long tumult of life.
When they just happen to peruse the picture by accident or for a relapse into the past, a twitch of a smile is evident.
“ Those days won’t return. It is only a bleached image still worth a glance,” thought yours truly.
A picture says a thousand words.
It tells you that moments etched in your life have a meaning of their own, an abiding value.
….…..
Trivia too has sanctity.
His vivacious voice came through on mobile. Rajesh knew about his annual vacation trips from the US to India.
“Hi, bro! Landed yesterday and since then have been busy cooking and taking walks. A lot to chat about, cricket, politics, and of course geopolitics. BTW, how are you? And your family? “
Rajesh also knew his friend’s high credentials in software, from a routine programmer to a chip maker, which admittedly entailed enormous hard work and brainwork. From the day he launched into software engineering, he had made rapid strides to have ensconced himself on the throne. He was, of course, immensely proud and imagined that all, including his mate Rajesh, should show a lot of deference to him.
And he was an endearing chatterbox to boot. He was single, made regular voyages to every country across continents, and even spent nomadic time in dense forests.
Rajesh always found him incredibly engrossing, and so did other relatives who knew him. Some were in awe born out of jealousy.
The recent news was that his firm of four investors sold a chip for 600 million dollars.
He came, spent the usual three days with them with his native joviality in restaurants and other joints where Rajesh spent through the roof. And the hot visitor bid adieu, pinching his kid son’s cheek.
Rajesh’s wife stood withdrawn, contemptuous. He thought it was typical insouciance. He couldn’t hold his tongue either.
“My god! He sold his a chip for a mighty sum.. what a guy!”
“Yes, you can say it, but he didn’t have the courtesy, basic human kindness to buy fruits or gifts for our child. You are doe-eyed and obviously didn’t see it. He is so full of himself, has always been. So much peaking with money that he doesn’t open his wallet. Even a robot would realise it. You will dismiss it as trivia, but even trivia has some sanctity”.
Rajesh stood stunned, shocked, dumb. It was an unanswerable revelation.
“She’s right, has spoken true. Can’t rebut a word there..”.
Probity won over pedigree.
Picture design Anumita Roy
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