Stillness

The hill looks like any other hill. But just like today, it has beckoned millions to it since time immemorial. Mahatmas and siddhars and maharishis and seekers and sinners et al.

The Ramana Parayana that starts after the abhishekam and aarti breaks the enforced silence and self-imposed silences in the samadhi hall. Every once in a while, you could hear an air horn from a rickety, rusty bus. Or a peacock crows. The breeze is still but brings a waft of camphor and sambrani in distinct waves.

Ramana's piercing eyes stare at you from all four walls and like many others felt, you still feel his presence here long after his samadhi on April 14, 1950. 

Behind the samadhi and the ashram, the hill looms as a great answer to all seekers of truth. Covered by low-hanging, rain-carrying clouds, its peak is invisible. Night dawns; lakhs of devotees circumambulate Arunachala during the full moonlit night...

Close your eyes and just sit. Chumma iri. Be as you are.

The aroma of mysticism and esoteric faith combine to give you a headiness at Virupaksha cave. If you're entitled, you may hear Aum vibrating all around you.

Just outside the ashram, bohemians, backpackers, and sadhus share tales and tea and lives. While cattle, dogs, monkeys, and peacocks are fed by few kind folks like Devraj, I sit and try to be still. 

Still, I am not still.

This was actually written in October 2016 but posted only now. :-)

Kahin door jab din dhal jaaye

"Are you her chosen one?" he asked himself. 

Long into the night, as he tossed and turned through yet another sleepless night, he pondered upon his eternal question, "Are you a victim of circumstances? Of life? Of ras leela?" 

"Are you blessed by just arriving at the right time at the right place? 
Or, are you cursed by arriving at the wrong time at the wrong place?"

Silence. 

Just then his refrigerator's compressor kicked on.

"Do you deserve to be where you are now? 
Do you deserve the role(s) you play? 
Is your role sustained due to fear? 
Are you irreplaceable? 
Are you just her 'also love'? 
Or, are you her passion for life?"

More silence.

"Are you just another throw of dice in this random universe? Are you the method in this madness? Are you the order in this chaos?" he asked himself. 

Deafening silence.

Finding no answers, he burned inside. Nothing could quench his thirst. Nothing could deliver him peace. Nothing could deliver him what he seeks though he seeks what others have sought before and attained.

If he wasn't the one, shouldn't he leave? Make way for love to bloom as it should? Is he an obstruction that only he can destroy?

Shouldn't he make way for two souls who yearn for each other?
Why is he just a witness in his own love story? 
Why did he expect her to say: 
"No matter what, I would've always chosen you."?

He switches on the TV and surfs. There is nothing better to do. His mind hums and drums. He listens to old classics on the Mastii channel; one of his favorite songs is on: "Chalo ek baar phir se... Ajnabi ban jaye hum dono..."

He watches and listens to few more songs. Songs that bring about associations of the past.  

Meanwhile, over her wallpapered doe-eyes on his cracked Home and Lock screen, his Asus zenphone screams, "It's 1 am. Go to sleep. Try at least. There's work tomorrow." He craves for a vada pav. He smiles and brushes away that impossible wish.

Loud silence. 

A train's horn breaks it, as he lies down again. He looks at the pillow she left behind, as he breaks into a cold sweat. He sniffs her pillow and that kurti she had left upon her stuffed toy dog. They still smell of her perspiration's odor mixed with her deodorant's scent. Always a heady mix for him. A dog barks in the orchard adjacent to his building's compound. Few more join in the howling party. 

He had barely slept a wink when he heard a neighbor washing clothes in the balcony diagonally above his flat... Now, a familiar and punctual sight and sound. It was time to get up. Rub those red eyes. Stretch that neck and move those heavy shoulders. To go to work. His only dreaded constant.

Going through the motions without her by his side, he laughed on the outside. All his wisdom and his knowledge deserted him like morning birds that flew away. 

He wanted to be with her. By her side always. As her one. But he was alone. Again. 

And this time, for the first time ever... He felt lonely, too.

After a long time, a mood piece. I love writing mood pieces. :-)