Amrit Mahotsav
© Bikramjit Sen
It was raining cats and dogs. I was standing on my balcony facing the heavy downpour that brought the beautiful smell of the earth to my nose. I had a coffee cup filled to the brim with espresso. I still like it in the rain. Not that bad, is it so?
I was getting drenched, but I liked it that way. Suddenly, a loud thump on the wet road took all my attention away from the beauty I was enjoying. I spotted a man whose heart had still not given up on him. He was in terrible pain from the fall. He lay in a pool of blood around him. The blood everywhere was getting washed away by the rain. I rushed to his aid as soon as my eyes met his.
But sadly, before I could rush him to the nearby hospital, he died, uttering his final words, “Never stop dreaming, young fellow; I never did.”
I had been reading the great Victorian poet Matthew Arnold lately, and suddenly a line from his poem, Sohrab and Rustum, inspired by an episode of Firdausi’s famous Persian epic flashed in my mind and struck me hard. For a moment, the line “Truth sits upon the lips of dying men” started wandering in my mind, and I became numb.
I had lost all the movements of my limbs. I felt I would be dead anytime soon. Gone from this world to the heavens above where I know no one is waiting for me.
Oh my God, what should I do? Shall I sob while holding on to the dead? Or move away before it’s too late. It is a case of suicide or perhaps murder. Who knows? Oh God, forgive me for my sin. I never knew this would happen to him in front of me.
I felt too sorry. I had to leave that dead man before anyone spotted me with him. Was that man helpless? Was I the one who desperately needed help, and he was just a light in the darkness that had engulfed me? Was I helpless? It was still a mystery to me. But that is not the point of this story.
#MyPresent
A month has passed since he passed away, and now I feel something of me died with him that day. Or else, how would I be in a better headspace than I used to be before this incident? Whatever I have faced it was horrible. The mishap shook me to the core and left me in tears of a different kind. But it is not for which I repent. I am more cheerful than I used to be earlier. I feel this about myself; I am a changed man and that too, for the better. I was good, perhaps. I became better. Now, I aim for the best version of myself. And, that is how it should be.
Whatever I was yesterday, I need to change that, even if a little. I remember the importance of kaizen, small steps but consistently taken in the right direction in the race to success. In my childhood days, I had read the fable of the hare and the tortoise.
It touched my heart to see how the size and speed don’t matter if there is a will to progress; a determination to proceed further. And who doesn’t know, where there is a will, there is a way. I remember a quote from Abraham Lincoln, I may walk slowly, but I never walk backward.
I can touch my heart and vouch for it that I have changed into something extra today. I feel special deep within and I can feel there is some sort of an awakening. There is progress.
There is hope in my eyes to attain the unattainable. I know, I can, and I will prove myself in my quest for betterment.
My horoscope says I will die of old age, but I find I have been reborn as a more optimistic child of God since the day he passed away. I have dropped the pessimistic approach to life and everything. Now I don’t see the glass half empty. I see it half-filled no matter how tough it gets going.
I can never forgive myself for not being able to save that man. I still remember that face, and I don’t think I will ever forget it, for good reasons.
I had not seen a look of sorrow on that face despite the pain of the fall. It was the look of happiness that we get after having a taste of our dreams. The man’s face reflected a sense of achievement. I am sure he was happy because, whatever might have been his dream, he could explore it to the fullest. I remember the gleam that our freedom fighters had in their eyes as they dreamt of a state where there will be no sorrow, no tears, and only love. Their eyes were so full of dreams.
I think I should not waste time going further in directions other than what I dream of for myself and my life. Dreams are a part of life. If we don’t dream, who would for us? I think we should all be high on dreams, emotions, and imaginations because where reason cannot get you your reasons to chase; dreams give meaning to your meaningless life. They can make you happy.
…And you start to live a fulfilled life. And miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep for one last time with no epitaph to adorn the state of my mind at this time.
I don’t know why I wrote all this today in my diary, but because I love to write, and something told me I must write whatever I feel I am supposed to write, I wrote about all this that is part of my life, part of my journey now.
Sometimes it gets so hard to recollect all those heart-wrenching moments that this human birth has made me undergo that I feel I should not disappoint myself by remembering all those things to note them down on the pages of my diary. As I write this down for you to know, I apologize for not being able to take the time to write to the one whom I can call my very own.
But, I tell you, whether you trust me, you are the one with whom I can talk freely, as I have always wanted a person in life who will only listen to me and my hard times and never irritate me with any question in reply. Sorry if I bore you.
What! Oh my God, I was dreaming! Better late than never, thank God, the realization has finally dawned upon me.
Thank you for taking out all the time in the world and listening to my story so patiently. You all have been a wonderful audience. Thank you, all. This is Rajeev, signing off.
Zoom host: I appreciate your writing style, author Rajeev. I think we all were hooked till the end of the story.
Congratulations!
Now, on the road to seventy-five years of India’s Independence Day celebrations, we have our budding star Sai Kishore with us via Zoom. He would like to share something with all of us today on today’s theme “dream.” All yours, Sai…
Thank you. We have passed away seventy-four years of the fifteenth of august, nineteen forty-seven, but still, it feels to me as if it was yesterday. I don’t know why and how.
Greetings to all the wonderful creations of the almighty God present here in this virtual platform alongside me. I wish each one the very best in life.
I am Sai Kishore, a boy from the countryside. Thank you very much for such a warm welcome that you have given me. I am extremely obliged to the entire team of literature and us for giving me this golden opportunity. Without further delay, I will jump to what I have to share with you all, my fellow countrymen…
*There, there goes the tricolor*
There, there goes the tricolor
Unafraid and dry
A symbol of valor and sacrifice
Of the brave hearts, the martyrs
Who martyred themselves for the tricolor
Never having to think twice
When the tricolor needed them the most
They had a fire in their bellies, victory in their eyes
Tears and blood of its citizens
To smile the tricolor has indeed paid a heavy price
There, there goes the tricolor
Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry
On the eve of seventy-five
I can see the tricolor proud
The rooftop of every house
Decorated as if wedding gowns
There, there goes the tricolor
The leader of the world
Without a doubt
All you unlucky ones
Who miss this opportunity to salute the tricolor
Don’t worry
You too will be draped in it
With complete honor
All you have to do is do something
That can truly be honored
There was a dream
That the tricolor had once seen
How wonderful it would be to talk of equality!
Who are you? How did you get here? Slowly these sounds started to emerge from nowhere and made their way to my ear drums. A sleepyhead; before I could even reply to those strange voices piercing my eardrums with questions of all sorts, I felt a strong kick in my gut.
I wanted to identify the man who kicked me but the great pain in my stomach left me wailing for some time. I lay face down.
There was darkness in front of my eyes. I realized this soon because of the unfamiliar voices I heard around me that I was unconscious before this blow. Am I a foreign face here? I felt I will soon go unconscious again if I don’t take the control of my mind. I lay on my face and I can feel I have to for some more time. I heard a few strangers talk…
Who is he?
He is a part of us now. We have to give him everything that we usually give to all our citizens.
He can be a threat to us.
We have fought for this land and we can’t allow a foreign man here anymore.
Don’t be silly. He needs help.
I believe we will not be like the oppressors who oppress unnecessarily. If we have a guest, we must serve him as that is our culture and that is what makes us unique. We have a place for all in this Punyabhoomi. Athithi Devo Bhava…
Don’t be foolish. Don’t you remember our past? How terrible it was for our forefathers to live under the oppressors?
No one is foreign, dear. This world is our own. Let me tell you all a story. I think it will help all of you to come to a point and understand that an eye for an eye makes the whole world go blind and revenge is a sort of wild justice. It is not the sign of a cultured civilization to take revenge considering someone as the enemy.
There was an elephant named Airavata back in colonial times. Airavata lived with his mahavat. They earned their living performing shows in a circus. One fine day, a British soldier came to the tent of Airavat’s mahavat in the circus and started beating him badly. The elephant was not there to witness this cruelty shown towards his master. The soldier had done this to avenge the death of his beloved wife who died because of the heat and dust of our motherland. She was unable to bear the extremes of temperature that is common here. They are the people of the winters, you see, and not everyone is rough and tough to tolerate this sort of climate. She was here for her husband’s letter. He wished to make her see the best places of this land.
Their climatic conditions are different from ours. So her body could not withstand the temperature here and she succumbed to being unable to acclimatize herself.
When the soldier had left and the elephant came to his mahavat’s tent, he saw his master lying unconscious, bruised badly. There was blood all over his body. The wounds were fresh, the elephant could understand this. Airavat left the tent in a rage to catch the person who had done this to his beloved master.
It was a blunder that Airavat committed. He had only one dream in his eyes i.e. to murder the British sepoy.
He knew it cannot be the work of an Indian. He would forever have to repent for it. Had he taken his mahavat out of the tent, some people could have saved his life by hospitalizing him but instead of that, the big-headed one left that place to seek revenge.
As soon as Airavat left the circus premises he was able to not only identify the Britisher through the blood stains all over his dress but also kill him. When he returned to his master, he found him dead in the tent. No greetings, nothing!
In anger, we lose our sense of what is good and what is bad. Anger makes us lose ourselves and our loved ones. The elephant and the sepoy both paid a heavy price for their anger. That is why great religions of the world referred to anger as the gateway to hell. So, don’t be angry, and don’t consider him a black man’s burden, okay? Dream, but don’t dream revenge. Fight for justice. And what is justice? Justice is what a just man does.
To err is human, to forgive divine. Mark my words if you wish peace in your life. Dream, but don’t dream anger, don’t dream revenge, don’t dream jealousy, don’t dream hatred, dream peace and harmony, dream tolerance, dream about a wholesome life. You reap what you sow, always remember that. Your dreams encourage you on your journey and give a direction to your life. Dreams are your energy tonics. They give you absolute courage and enthusiasm. You don’t give up before you tried. They push you forward. You take challenges in life because you dream of a better tomorrow.
***
Oh, how lucky would I be if I could be a part of the Amrit Mahotsav literary celebrations like this…Wow! What a vivid dream I just saw! I lived different stories and I never felt it was my dream! Wow! How many ways do you fulfill yourself O unfulfilled one?
You are ever expanding in your glory, in my eyes…See you next time!
