LEAD
ME TO LIGHT
Vasireddy
Sitadevi
(translated by Nidadavolu Malathi)
“Who’s
that? Gopalam? how come you’re walking away as if you’d not seen me?” Rama
Sastry called out.
Gopalam
turned around with a jerk on hearing those words. He was lost in his own
thoughts, unaware of his surroundings. He saw a vague outline, short, stout,
and well-rounded, as if three balls were stacked up. The man who’d addressed
him was of fair complexion and had no shirt on. He was wearing a green silk
shawl and his tummy was peeking through its folds. He wore a dhoti up to his
knees; lion-headed bracelets on his hands, and big red dot on his forehead.
Gopalam wanted to laugh but did not.
“You’re
looking at me as if I were a stranger. What’s new? How is father?”
“Oh,
no, no. I was just thinking about something. Yes, father is fine. He thinks of
you now and then.”
“I’d
like to see him too. I’ve been so busy lately, no time at all.”
“Of
course, no time. I’m sure you’ve heard about our conditions at home after
father’s retirement,” Gopalam told himself in his mind.
Rama
Sastry was a well-known priest. So, he would get calls for all festive
occasions in the houses of high ranking officers and ministers. He had no match
in drafting horoscopes. In all, he has had good income and also some clout in
social circles. He had all his children good education and good jobs.
“How is
father’s health? Are done with your schooling?” The concern in his voice
sounded unnatural.
“Father’s
health is not good. I am finished with B.A. in first rank. I’ve been trying for
a job in so many ways for the past six months. That is one more worry for
father,” Gopalam said, sadly.
“What’s
the use of worrying? Father knows so much, why would he worry about such small
matters?” Sastry’s face was illustrative of his philosophy.
Gopalam
was irritated. He wanted to tell Sastry to recall the life he had when he first
came to this town. At the time, Gopalam was just twelve. He could still
visualize that day, Sastry had been sitting looking desperate, and Gopalam’s
father had cheered him up.
“Wouldn’t
there be problems for people who had been knowledgeable about life?”
“Of
course, there will be. But, does it help if you beat yourself up? Praptavyamartham
labhyate manushyah. Devopi tam langhayitum na saktih,” Sastry said, with
partly closed eyes, and waving his hands in the air.
“I
don’t know Sanskrit. Can you please tell me the meaning?” Gopalam asked,
irately.
“Certainly,
listen. It means man will receive whatever he’s supposed to receive. Even God
cannot prevent that,” Sastry replied, submerged in the thought.
“Are
you saying that whatever we’re destined to receive, will come to us on its own?
And even God cannot do anything to change it?”
“That’s
correct, Gopalam,” Sastry replied proudly and with a smile.
“That
means God cannot save a man. So, tell me what is it that God can do?”
Gopalam also smiling asked him.
Sastry
was baffled a little. He took out the gold-plated snuff box from his waistband
and snuffled a pinch of it. “Where’re you headed?” he changed the subject.
“From
no point to the cosmos?” Gopalam replied, watching Sastry keenly.
Sastry
missed the sarcasm in Gopalam’s words. He burst into a laugh. “You speak
strange, Gopalam. Where did you get this vocabulary?” he said and finished rest
of the snuff that was in his palm. He wiped his nose and hand with his shawl.
“And
you? From where to where?”
“On,
me? I’m coming from the collector’s house. He’s gotten a son, savior of his
lineage, after four daughters. I’ve drawn up his chart. He is an
extraordinarily fortunate boy. That is the chart, that’s the way a chart should
be. He’ll live ninety years; enjoy a royal life. Let’s go, we can talk on the
way.”
Gopalam
followed him without questioning whereto. Today, Gopalam would not want to let
go of Sastry that easy. He set out without any goal, just to kill time.
Thoughts about future were eating him up inside like a bug.
“So,
Sastry garu, you say collector’s son is a blessed boy. What if your chart were
…”
“Oh,
no, what a thing to say! Are you questioning the chart I’d drawn?” Sastry’s
voice was sharp.
“Maybe
you’ve forgotten now, you used to say the same thing to my father. You’d an
extraordinary chart for me too. You’d written that I would attain a very high
status,” Gopalam said, staring into Sastry’s face.
“Yes?
Are you facing any hardships now? How much of your life you’d seen yet, that
you should question my chart? Just watch out, and tell me if the Lady Luck had
not come to embrace you soon,” Sastry chided Gopalam.
“Lady
Ill-Luck had embraced me long time ago,” Gopalam mumbled, as if he was talking
to himself.
Both of
them kept walking silently. Gopalam asked, breaking the silence, “So, you’re
sure that the collector’s son will live ninety years per your prediction.”
“Yes,”
Sastry replied in calm but steady voice.
“What
if the boy died in a day or two?”
“There
is no way that can happen. No matter how many dangers he had encountered, he
will live to be ninety,” Sastry said firmly.
“Then,
guruji, can you tell me what do people mean when they say akaala mrutyu?[1]”
Sastry
felt cornered. He pretended to be looking at something at a distance, and not
listening to Gopalam, and kept walking.
“When time comes, nobody can evade death,
that’s what you’re saying, right?” Gopalam was persistent.
“Yes.
It has been prescribed in our texts, na kale mriyate kaschit praapte kale na
jivati[2].”
“That
means if I were down with fever and was destined to die, even a million
attempts to recover are sure to fail.”
“That’s
true my boy. What is in our hands? We are simply human. How can our attempts
stack up against the decision of that uncanny Lord?”
“How
come two years back, you’d been to Dr. Nair when your son was sick? I heard
that you’d fallen on your knees and begged the doctor to save your son somehow.
You, who’d known everything, groveled in front of another human, begged him to
save your son’s life, why?”
Sastry
was stuck like that of a rat in a rut.
“udyoginam
purushasimham upaiti Lakshmi. Boy, we must act the best we can.”
Gopalam
broke into a big laughter. Sastry suddenly stopped.
“Keep
walking. We can talk while walking,” Gopalam said, smiling.
Sastry
slipped into a reverie. ‘There is nothing more stupid than getting into a
debate with these young fools. Modern day youth! Oh Lord Rama! The world is
going to the dogs, no fear of god at all! What kind of education is this?
Atheists are growing in number by the minute.’
“What’s
it, guruji? Seem to be lost in reverie? Look, the baby goat in the arms of that
little girl, a charmer, isn’t it?”
“Yes,
yes,” Sastry said, unable to figure out Gopalam’s approach.
“Let’s
say that she is destined to die at the end of six months, per her horoscope.
You’re saying nobody could kill her in the meantime.”
“As the
proverb goes, even an ant cannot sting without orders from Lord Siva.”
“All
right. I’ll kill her right now, while you’re watching. What can you say for
that?” Gopalam gazed into Sastry’s face. He thought this would make Sastry’s
mouth would go dry.
Sastry’s
face was lit up with a mix of smile and solemnity. “If her life were to end
today, Lord Siva would cause you to think of it,” he replied, and took a pinch
of snuff and rubbed his nose with his palm. The sight made Gopalam feel sick in
his stomach.
“You
mean our brain makes act per our destiny.”
“Correct,”
Sastry said enthusiastically.
“That
means our brain does not act independently; and man is not responsible for his
actions. That means man does not have to account for his good and evil deeds.
All the dharma sastras and legal canons, which stipulate rules, are
meaningless, I suppose.”
Sastry
was walking, looking around. He hastened his steps. Gopalam also hastened his
pace. He said, “Sastry garu, I have a small doubt.”
“What
is it?” Sastry growled.
“Man’s
brain does not act independently, right? That follows the lord’s command,
right? If that is the case, why does not God make all the people do only good
deeds?”
Sastry
was really upset. He was baffled for want of a good response. He said,
“Gopalam, Have you ever made the mistake of going to the temple?” His tone was
filled with disgust.
Gopalam
laughed heartily. “Why are you upset? You’ve not given me an answer to my
question. Let it be. I’ll give you my answer to your question. I used to visit
the Anjaneya temple along with my mother in my childhood days. You know why?
For the prasadam.[3] I’d never been to any
temple as an adult. My heart is still pure. There is no need for me to go to
the temple and wash off my sins,” Gopalam spoke fervently.
“So, in
your mind, all those people who go to the temple have committed sins?”
Gopalam
was shocked by the anger in Sastry’s tone, stopped for a few seconds and then
continued walking. He said, “I didn’t say that. But I do think that most of
them are that kind. Some of the people go to have their wishes fulfilled, and a
few others to have their hardships removed. You tell me how many go there
simply with a sense of devotion and only devotion?”
“How do
you I know? You tell me that too,” Sastry said, stressing each word as he
spoke.
Gopalam
felt like laughing but stopped it by keeping his lips tight. He was afraid that
Sastry would be even more upset. “Today, I’ve learned a very important lesson
from you. I’ll remain grateful to you for the rest of my life,” he said
sounding casual. But Sastry noted a streak of sarcasm in it.
“What
is that?” Sastry asked, stressing his words.
“The man
who has sinned need not be afraid, nor he be afraid of god.”
Sastry
stopped suddenly. He, surprised, looked into Gopalam’s face for a second and
said, “Oh, Lord Rama, did I say that?”
“You’ve
said it just a few minutes ago. You’ve said brain is not independent and that
it acts as preordained. Whether the lord made the man perform good or bad
deeds, man need not fear it,”
“I
don’t know how to respond to atheists like you. We’ve believed our guru’s
words. We never raised gawky questions like you do,” he said, unable to come up
with a better answer.
“Oh,
no. We’ve come too far, while chatting. Come on, let’s go to the public
gardens. We can sit there for a few minutes,” Gopalam said. He was feeling
down; it seems this would be good pastime.
“Why,
so you could kill me with your questions?”
Gopalam
giggled to himself.
Suddenly,
they came across a dead body on stretcher. The carriers were chanting ‘Hare
Rama, Hare Rama’. Some of them were looking sad. The dead man’s son was walking
ahead with a pot of burning coal.
“Don’t
walk in front of it, come here,” Sastry grabbed Gopalam’s shoulder and pulled
him to a side. Then, he stood to a side, closed his eyes and prayed to the
lord, “Oh Lord, may this dead man’s soul be blessed with peace.”
Gopalam
stood there watching Sastry. Several questions about life and death sprang up
in his mind, ‘What is that life has and death does not have? How does the
life’s inner stream, that has been alive up until then, dry up so suddenly? How
does that consciousness freeze abruptly? The issues and hardships, which
pervade life, do not exist in death. But, why is man afraid of death? Is it
because he is afraid to imagine this world without himself in it?’
Sastry
commented, ardently, “Today is mukkoti ekadasi.[4] One must have plenty of
good deeds to die on this day!”
“Sastry
garu, you’re ecstatic as if you’ve attained that status yourself,” Gopalam
blurted out and regretted it in the next second.
Sastry
eyeballed at Gopalam. Gopalam turned away, acting as if he did not notice
Sastry’s displeasure. “So, guruji, you do believe that the people who had died
today would go to the heaven straight.”
That
question threw Sastry into a spell of ecstasy again. “Yes, Gopalam, today all
the doors to the heaven remain open. One can go straight to the feet of Lord
Vishnu.” Sastry closed his eyes partly and felt immersed in the heavenly
beatitude.
“Then,
guruji, do you believe there is something called Atman?”
“What
kind of question is that? There is of course Atman in this temporal body. Atman
has no death; it is immortal. This body is like a shirt on our bodies. When the
shirt got dirty, we’ll remove it and wear a new one. In the same way, Atman
discards the decayed body.”
“But
sometimes it also discards a child’s or youthful body, how come?”
Sastry
was furious, his eyebrows were knotted. “That’s because of their actions in
previous lives. Each one lives in this world only to settle the account, based
on their good deeds or evil deeds in the previous lives and then they go back,”
he said.
“Some
people are dead as soon as they are born, they enjoy nothing. And then there
are others who are born dead.”
Sastry’s
rage hardened even more. He kept walking without a word.
“You’re
angry with me, it seems.”
“What
for?” Sastry said.
“May I
ask one question?”
“Will
you let it go, if I say no. Ask.”
“What
does Atman mean? Will it be affected by the little annoyances the body is
afflicted with? Will the Atman also suffer along with the body?” Gopalam asked
him, with a show of humility.
Sastry’s
face reddened with a heightened irritation. ‘Way to go,’ he told himself and
his face became solemn.
“There
is something beyond body, senses, heart and mind, and a manifestation of Truth,
Beauty and Beatitude. That is Atman. Atman is a self-created bliss. It has no
pain. Atman is simply another manifestation of the Lord. It will not be touched
by the affliction the body suffers from.” Sastry went on like a sermon.
“Is the
Atman in you the same as the one resident in me?”
“Exactly.
In you, me and, in fact, the Atman resident in all the animate things is the
same one. It is a fragment of the Lord. Since it is covered by illusion, the
Atman forgets its original form, and craves for corporal pleasures.”
Gopalam
looked at Sastry while he was lecturing like a great philosopher. He smiled.
“What
are you smiling about?” Sastry asked, annoyed.
“I am
smiling at your arguments, which seem to cross each other out,” Gopalam replied
with a smile.
Sastry
felt like he was being rolled on a bed of burning coals.
“Come
here, let’s sit on the bench,” Gopalam headed toward the park bench near the
gate, without looking for Sastry’s response. Sastry followed him mechanically.
His mind was hovering around Gopalam’s question. This nut has always been like
this ever since he was a child. There had been one incident when Gopalam was
eight-years old at most. Sastry was telling Gopalam’s father about somebody’s
death.
Gopalam sat on the floor
and cutting pictures from his picture book. He stood up and came near his
father and asked him, “How do people die?”
“They
just die, that’s all,” his father replied, not knowing how else to answer.
“What
does it mean to die?” Gopalam asked again.
“Go to bed, you and your stupid questions,” his father yelled at him.
Gopalam did not move.
“Dying means life leaving the body,” Sastry replied.
“What do you mean by life leaving the body?”
“Life leaving the body means the person cannot talk or walk; he becomes
stiff like the bat you play with. Then he is burned to ashes,” Sastry replied.
The little boy’s face was filled with fear and curiosity, one after
another. “How does the life leave the body?”
“It flies away.”
“Does the life have wings like a bird?” Gopalam asked him with surprise
and glaring at him.
“No. … Yes. …” Sastry was perplexed and did not know how to answer.
“Where does life come from?”
“From god,” Gopalam’s father replied.
“Where will it go again?”
“To the same god.”
“Will the god take it back himself?”
“Yes,” Sastry replied.
“Do the lives of people in
“Yes,” Sastry said.
“Is the
same God causing wars?”
“Yes.”
“Does that mean god is not a good person?”
Sastry and Gopalam’s father stared at each other. A little puppy
appeared in the front yard. Gopalam ran quickly to the puppy, forgetting
everything else.
That was long time ago. Gopalam brought him back to the present with his
question, “Guruji, what’s it? You seemed to have been lost in deep thought. You
didn’t answer my question.”
Sastry returned to the present with a jerk. He told himself, ‘I couldn’t
answer your question on that day; and certainly not today.’ And then, he turned
to Gopalam somberly and replied, “You say that my arguments are contradicting
each other, right?”
“Yes, sir. On one hand,
you’re saying Atman is a manifestation of beatitude and independent; it will
not be touched by ordinary problems and evil. At the same time, you’re also
saying the Atman is shrouded by illusion and thus craving for carnal pleasures.
How can the Atman, independent and a fragment of the Lord, be shrouded by
illusion? Earlier when I’d seen the dead body, you’d prayed for the peace of
Atman. What is the point of praying for the peace of the Atman, if Atman were
already a manifestation of Truth, Beauty and Bliss? You’ve also said the Atman
would go straight to the heaven since he had died on the mukkoti ekadasi day.
The Atman had already been a part of the Lord, where else would it go if not to
Him? Better yet, life and death are only physical attributes of the body; that
being the case …” Gopalam stopped abruptly, looking into Sastry’s countenance.
Drops of sweat were
glistening on Sastry’s face, like pearls. His face turned crimson. He took the
remaining snuff and sniffled deed. Gopalam felt sorry for him. ‘He is senior,
why bother him? He has his own beliefs, why not leave him alone?’ he thought.
But the problem is such people try to rub their beliefs on others, and that’s
what bothered him.
“Please, come to our house. Father has been thinking about you,” Gopalam
said, changing the subject.
“I’ll,” Sastry said, feeling relief.
“Shall we go to the exhibition grounds? Today, a sixteen-year old boy is
going to douse himself in kerosene, set on fire, and jump into a
three-hundred-yard deep well,” Sastry said, in an attempt to preempt Gopalam
from reverting to the earlier topic.
Gopalam was surprised; he looked into Sastry’s
face, “You have such interests too?”
“Just for fun,” Sastry laughed aloud. Gopalam could not understand
Sastry’s humor.
“That’s true. For many people, watching others in peril is a pleasure,”
he said.
Sastry could not understand Gopalam’s comment; he frowned.
Gopalam continued, “Guruji, why do people get excited about watching
boxing, circus and others standing amidst lions and tigers and poking at
them—why people rush to watch them?”
“What do you mean why? That’s fun and pastime. Why do think it as
watching people in peril?” Sastry was getting vexed with him.
“Don’t be annoyed with me. I am just asking. Why don’t the same people
show the same enthusiasm, if it were playing with dogs or cats? But they buy
ticket and go to watch if someone were jumping from a ten-foot high structure?”
“Why would anybody go there? What is special about it?”
“Don’t ask me what is special about it, say where is the danger in it?”
“Are you saying, there is cruelty in wanting to watch these sports?”
“In a way, yes. This is the proof to say that the humans evolved from
beasts. Actually, you can see the animal qualities in many human beings. In
some, they are dormant. Man need to satisfy his animal instincts.”
“I don’t know, Gopalam. I don’t understand your logic. Just tell me, are
you going with to the exhibition grounds or not?” Sastry asked as if he were
questioning Gopalam.
Gopalam by nature was not interested in watching such shows. In his
child he could not watch the dommari girls tumble on the top of long
poles; he used to close his eyes then. All his friends used to call him coward.
But today, Gopalam was feeling down. Spending time with Sastry was a welcome
pastime for him. “I’ll go with you, let’s go,” he said.
*
It was dark by the time Sastry and Gopalam reached the exhibition
grounds. The entire area was splendid with dazzling lights. People were pouring
in. Gopalam was surprised to find that the number of women and children to be
higher. He wondered why children should be brought to this kind of shows.
They both bought tickets and went in. By that time most people filled
the seats closest to the well. Gopalam did not like people gathering so early
there either. In fact, he did not even like watching that spectacle. He wanted
to see the young performer. Sastry’s eyes were also rolling around, looking for
someone. They both kept walking and chatting. They saw a small crowd at a
distance and walked toward the crowd. There were about ten to fifteen people
gathered there, and a young boy wearing khaki knickers there. He was zealously
answering their questions. Sastry and Gopalam understood who the boy was. They
both elbowed into the crowd.
Suddenly a man with bushy moustache walked into the crowd and suggested
to disperse. He saw Sastry, folded his hands respectfully and greeted him.
Sastry’s face opened up like a fresh blossom.
“Ayyagaru, come on, come here. I sent for you this morning,” he said.
His name was Yadagiri. He was very happy to see Sastry had come to his show.
“Yes, I’ve got your message. I could not find time to meet with you in
the morning. That’s why I came now,” Said Sastry.
“You’ve bought ticket, why? If you’d sent word to me, I’d have come to
fetch you personally.”
“That’s no problem. This young man bought the tickets. He is a good
friend of mine,” said Sastry. Yadagiri greeted Gopalam with folded hands.
Gopalam also folded hands quietly. Yadagiri escorted them, Sastry, Gopalam, and
the boy away from the crowd. Gopalam was trying to figure out the connection
between Sastry and Yadagiri.
All the four disappeared into the enclosed tent that was ten-feet away
from the well.
“The reason I’ve sent for you is, I would like to perform
Satyanararayana puja at our new house the day after tomorrow,” Yadagiri said.
Yadagiri has been organizing merry-go-rounds, lucky-dips, and other
stunts at village fairs and other places, have entertained people in a number
ways and amassed one hundred thousand rupees. He had a new house built. He has
been inviting for pujas and rituals. He was not afraid of hell but did believe
in god.
“Sure, I’ll perform the puja for you,” Sastry replied, thinking about
the gift he was going to receive on the occasion. His eyes however were glued
to the boy. Yadagiri introduced him to Sastry.
The boy looked at Sastry with curiosity and joined both hands in
reverence. The boy was fair-complexioned and chubby. His features were
well-defined and attractive. In his eyes under the bushy eyebrows, several
hopes and ideas were sparkling. A dark line over strong upper lip was looked
like highlighting youth, which was about to take over his body. The signs of
childhood seemed to be leaving such a charming face rather unwillingly.
Yadagiri left the three of them in the tent and went away. He told them
he would be back soon.
Gopalam’s heart was shaken as the thought his crossed his mind, ‘what if
this boy died in the flames?’
Sastry was curious; he asked the boy, “What’s your name?”
“Nagesh.” His voice sounded like wind came out of a broken bamboo stem.
Gopalam was amused about the voice; the voice at that age would sound strange.
“How long have been performing this feat?” Gopalam asked Nagesh.
“This is the first time,” he replied.
“First time? Aren’t you afraid?” Gopalam asked again, pitying him and
gazing keenly into his eyes. What a charming face; he even seemed to be
educated.
“Afraid? Why?” Nagesh answered with a counter-question, with a smile.
Gopalam thought if he had asked the emperor, Sikinder, who’d set out to conquer
the world, probably he would have given the same counter-question, just like
Nagesh.
“Whom did you receive this skill from?” Sastry asked him.
“From nobody. This is a family vocation for us,” Nagesh replied.
“Are you saying your father also used to do the same feat?” Gopalam
asked him anxiously.
“Yes. Not only my father, but also his father and his grandfather were
in the same business,” Nagesh answered with renewed enthusiasm.
“Is your father around?”
“No, sir. My father died while performing in Pune last year.”
Gopalam cringed and looked deep into Nagesh’s eyes. He could see nothing
in the boy’s eyes; they filled with tears at the thought of his father.
“How did your grandfather die?” There was pain in Gopalam’s tone.
“My grandfather was also performing the same feat for a long time, and
eventually died while performing.”
“And then, what about his father?” Gopalam’s concern was escalating.
Sastry was tired of this line of questioning.
“He died of natural causes. He fell sick and died, I was told,” Nagesh
replied with a smile.
Gopalam sighed. “You’ve been aware of all this, and yet, are willing to
perform?” Although it was intended for Nagesh, it sounded more like he was
asking himself. He tried to look far into the future of Nagesh.
Nagesh broke into a hearty laugh. Gopalam looked at him, with a stupid
expression.
“Babu, let’s say your father and grandfather had died at work in an
office. Would you be scared to work in the same office?”
Gopalam did not know how to respond to that question. Surprised, he kept
staring at the boy for a second.
“How can the two instances be the same? Anyway, why didn’t you learn the
feat from your father?” This time, it was Sastry’s turn to raise the question.
“My father did not like me taking up this profession. He did not even
allow me to watch when he was performing. A couple of times, I sneaked into the
place and watched him. Later he had come to know about it and beat me up.”
“What did your father want you to be?” Gopalam asked him, curiously.
“He wanted me to study well in school and take up a good job.”
“What did you study?”
“Just two days back, I wrote the high school final exam.”
Both Sastry and Gopalam were shocked to hear his response.
“You’ve finished high school, and still want to pursue this profession?
Why? Why don’t you look for a job, per your father’s wish?” Gopalam said.
Nagesh laughed a funny laugh, like a veteran thinker. He said, “Babu,
you don’t seem to understand the situation. Nowadays, even people with M.A. and
B.A. degrees are scampering around for jobs. Who would give me a job,
especially without recommendations. Haven’t you heard of a recent incident? An
engineer went for a lower division clerk position, and the officer turned him
down. Probably, the officer had a B.A. degree and got the job, sponsored by
some politician. Possibly he was afraid to take a better qualified person under
his supervision.” Blood shot to his cheeks as Nagesh spoke ardently.
Gopalam was surprised by the boy’s knowledge.
“So, after all that education, are you going to settle down in the same
profession?” Sastry asked him.
With that question, Nagesh’s face was covered with somberness that was
beyond his age. He was thinking quietly. And then his eyes flashed; the light
overtook the somberness in his face.
“No. I will study further, pass the I.A.S. exam and become collector,”
he said, looking far into the horizon. The words sounded like he was making the
decision for himself.
“You will certainly become a great man, boy! Your face is radiating like
royalty. Look at that forehead, Gopalam. What a superior forehead that is!”
Sastry said zealously.
“Sastry garu, read his palm,” Gopalam suggested.
Nagesh, out of curiosity, looked at Sastry, and then toward the almanac
under his arm, and stretched his hand forward.
Sastry took Nagesh’s hand in his own, and studied it. He said, “Vow,
extraordinarily fortunate boy you are! You’re sure become collector. At that
time, you must reward me with a pair of dhotis.” Nagesh blushed. He opened his
wallet, gave a five-rupee bill to Sastry and touched his feet, seeking his
blessings. Sastry hesitated to take the bill for a second. He said no but took
it anyway and stuffed it at the waist, next to his snuff box. Gopalam felt bad
for a second. He looked at Sastry resentfully. As for Sastry, he was not even
embarrassed; he did not notice Gopalam’s resentment.
Suddenly, Gopalam got a brilliant idea. “Sastry garu, read Nagesh’s palm
and tell us how long he is going to live?”
Sastry examined the boy’s palm carefully and said, “No doubt, he will
live eighty years, at the least.”
“Pay close attention,” Gopalam asked him anxiously.
“Yes, I did. Look at this line, straight as an arrow. There is not even
a single cross-line. Anyway, Gopalam, you don’t believe in such things. Why
now?”
“I feel like believing now,” Gopalam replied. On any other occasion,
Gopalam would not have believed it. Now, being haunted by some kind of mixed
feelings, he wanted to believe, just for a respite. He turned to Nagesh and
asked him, “You said you wanted to go to further studies. How can you afford it?”
“These two months are free time. I will perform during these two months
and earn good money. Today’s earnings already reached five hundred rupee mark.
I will get at least one hundred rupees for my share.”
“Who gets the rest of the income?”
“Some of it goes to cover the expenses. Contractor Yadagiri garu and I
split the net proceeds. He takes care of the arrangements.”
“After that?” Sastry asked curiously.
“I’ll earn three thousand rupees at the least during these three months.
The income is big since I am young. I have an older sister, and my mother is
worried about her marriage. I will spend that money and arrange her marriage. I
will earn the money needed for my education by performing whenever I get a
break from school,” Nagesh was raving with great fervor. Imagine the number of
“But you did not learn this technique from your father. How could you
perform? What if …” Gopalam’s voice registered a note of discord.
“I will not face any peril. Look here, a locket with Anjaneya swamy
picture. My father used to wear it at time of his performance, and so also my
grandfather. You see, now I am wearing it too. Nothing is going to happen to
me,” so saying, Nagesh unbuttoned his shirt and showed us a palm-sized copper
locket hanging from a black thread. It contained a distinct picture of Anjaneya
holding up the sanjiva mountain in his palm. Nagesh brought the locket
up to his eyes humbly, let it down on his chest, and started buttoning up his
shirt again.
Sastry looked into Gopalam’s face pompously.
“What about the day your father had died? Did he not wear it?” Gopalam
asked him; the questioned aggravated Sastry very much.
“No, he didn’t. He had forgotten it. That morning my mother, it seems,
had polished it with tamarind mush, and worshipped it. My father forgot about
it and went away. My mother keeps talking about it and weeps even to this day.”
“Even if that were the case, I am sure that locket alone is not enough
to save anybody. I am sure there are some guidelines, peculiar to the feat; and
even the clothes could be of specific kind. How about asking your mother about
them?” Gopalam suggested, with his heart slipping down.
“My mother does not know about this. I told her that I was going visit a
friend of mine in
Gopalam became nervous. He said, “It’s not a good idea for you to
perform without her knowledge. Postpone it for today. We’ll figure it out
later.”
“How is that possible, babu?” Nagesh said , wistfully.
“Why not? Just return their money to the audience. We can ask the
contractor to explain them that you fell sick,” Gopalam suggested.
Sastry cut in quickly, “Do you think, this crowd would let go of
Yadagiri alive, after all this humdrum? Anjaneya swamy is blazing forth
splendid on his chest, why fear? Atheists like you do not understand the powers
of that swamy. Besides, look at the lines in his hand, so perfect! He will live
for eighty years, no question. He has a great future.”
Beams of light filled Nagesh’s eyes. Life flows in each particle of this
body wholly. Gopalam kept watching the boy without batting an eyelid. Commotion
started in the crowd by the well at a distance. Nagesh cringed and looked out.
Contractor Yadagiri’s voice was heard gravely from the mike. “Quick,
come quick! In just five minutes, there is going to be a world-shaking
performance right here. The entry fee is just one quarter of a rupee! Twenty-five
naya paise! Quick, Come on, time is running out!”
Nagesh stood up.
Sastry got goose bumps.
Gopalam shivered.
“A performance nobody has ever heard of in the entire world! Come and
watch a raw, sixteen-year old boy, turn into a ball of fire and jump from a
height of three hundred feet and into the well of death. Just for a quarter!
Well of death for the price of a cup of coffee! The cost of two balloons!
Twenty-five naya paise. Hurry, the show will begin in a few minutes! Well of
death!” Yadagiri’s voice was resounded at a high pitch.
“Well of death.” Yadagiri’s voice was resounding in Gopalam’s ears. His
head was aching. He stood up, approached Nagesh, and grabbed his hand.
Sastry’s heart wobbled.
Nagesh spoke first, “Babu garu, don’t be scared. Time for me to go. I’ll
be back in about half hour and meet with you. Don’t go away without seeing me
again,” he said, bowed to both Sastry and Gopalam, and rushed out.
Gopalam walked out of the tent behind Nagesh, and stood there. He kept
staring keenly at Nagesh, who was standing at the foot of the ladder by the
well a little away from them. Sastry tapped on his shoulder and said, “let’s
go. Let’s watch the show.”
“I’ll wait here. You go,” Gopalam said, sounding like he was speaking
from the bottom of a well.
Sastry stared into his face surprisingly and went away, elbowing the
crowd.
After a couple of minutes, Nagesh started climbing of the steel steps.
Thousands of eyes were climbing up the ladder, step by step, along with the
boy. They all were watching him as if they had forgotten even to breathe.
Gopalam looked up, straining his neck. Nagesh looked like a moon amidst
stars, at the top of the steel frame under the expansive sky and clusters of
black and white clouds. The sixteen-year old Nagesh looked small, more like a
five-year old.
The people around the well were so thick, specks of sand would not seep
through. They were anxiously looking up. A pregnant woman in her second
trimester, and with an eighteen-month old baby in her arms, was staring at the
boy nervously.
Nagesh pulled out a bottle from his pocket. People shouted, “petrol,
petrol.” Nagesh doused himself with the liquid and threw down the bottle into
the well. He pulled out a matchbox from the other pocket and showed around to
the audience. Everybody understood what he was showing, although the matchbox
was not visible from there.
Sastry was sweating slightly; the almanac under his arm and the
five-rupee bill at his waist were dampening. He very much wanted to have a
pinch of snuff, but what if the show opened at that precise moment!
“Straight grappling with the
death! Well of death” Yadagiri’s voice stopped instantly. A big bell rang at
once.
One!
Two! Three!
The fire broke lose like the hunger of a poor man. Along with the
blazing flames, a desperate cry came out exploding even more ghastly. The
sizzling form came down twirling, and fell not into the well but on the heads
of the crowd!
The gathering scattered in panic and in all directions. Some of them
caught fire. They ran away, stomping on each other, unmindful of the others,
young and old, men and women, alike; it was a huge rampage. The only dharma in
that rampage appeared to be saving one’s life even it meant walking on the
people on the ground.
Gopalam’s heart broke into two; balls of fire flared up in his mind. In
the next moment, darkness enveloped him. Indistinct shapes hovered around. He
was not aware of his surroundings until Sastry came and pulled him up by the
shoulder. Gopalam came to his senses, stood up, shook off the dust, and walked
out, holding on to Sastry.
The exhibition ground, which was bubbling with enthusiasm, excitement,
and cracking up until a few minutes back, turned into a terrible sight, and was
crammed with desperate wailings. Sastry and Gopalam saw it and left the scene
mechanically.
Gopalam, who was walking on a paved street, was dragging along as if he
were walking on sand. By his side, Sastry’s feet were hitting the ground
furiously. Silence stood up between the two like the
Gopalam heard something, and stopped suddenly and without thinking.
Sastry also stopped, watching him.
They both heard the bells
from the temple. That was Anjaneya swamy temple. Since it was Saturday, the
temple was crowded. The chanting of Anjaneya swamy prayer was clearly audible
from sanctum sanctorum of the temple.
Gopalam could not see
anything, it was all dark. Darkness inside and outside. He folded his hands and
entered the temple premises, as if drawn by a supreme power.
Sastry watched him, with
astonishment. He was about to take a step in that direction, but stopped, like
a machine after electric supplied failed. He felt something soft under his foot;
he heard a feeble screech. That could be a baby crying for milk or a fetus from
a full-term mother!
Sastry shook his head
vigorously; took his almanac, opened it and studied it for a few minutes. His
eyes were burning like lamps. He tossed away the almanac on the dog that was
rolling in the garbage next to the temple walls. He pulled out the five rupee
bill from his dhoti folds, and gave it to the blind beggar at the temple
entrance. He sniffled two pinches of snuff. He shook his head a couple of time
as if he had a revelation, and went away hastily in big strides and past
Anjaneya swamy temple.
*
(The Telugu original, tamaso
maa jyotirgamaya, was published in Jayasri, 1967.)