Fall Of Sunajhari

He prospered in the land of Saudi Arabia for his talent, sincerity and subdues mannerism, all of the qualities he inherited from his nativity in a non-discrete illiterate village at the foothill of Madhuban range the beautiful Sunajhari. The village was named after the stream of Sunajhari which again was derived from the name of the hill Sunajhari. Sunajhari literally meant the fountain of gold which nobody did a search. His name Mirza Ayub Baig was uttered with full of love and respect by all the Indians in the kingdom of Saudi. His journey was fabulous with many twists, the latest being his plan to leave Saudi forever after staying twenty-five years and earning a lot. Knowing the man's nature and passion for homeland no one disbelieved it. It was not difficult to pack and move for a bachelor of half a century old.

Everything in his growing up was coming back to his memory. No one of his village of tribal dominancy with a few other backward class families and numbered Muslim dwellings was literate. They did cultivation by diverting the water of Sunajhari in their own crude methods in the off-season to add to the regular crops of monsoon. The hill provided enough other forest products, fodder for animals and hunting opportunities in those uninhibited days. The nearest primary school was at a distance of ten kilometres aiding their illiteracy in plenty of happiness. The greenery attracted many people to come for a picnic, locals provided them fuel and forgotten ration sometimes chicken, all these made the village to live smoothly if not in surplus.

    

Once a Baba reached the place and climbed a little above on the side of the stream to find a place, a horizontal platform to construct a small hermitage. He resided there forever. The villagers loved the learned Baba and helped him in all possible way. Baba reciprocated by providing non-formal education to the children. Soon education became a felt need and Baba happily catered it, a school like thing started running. The Muslims initially hesitated to learn from a Hindu religious man till Mirza one day reached with a child's query. He stayed aloof; baba called him near, fed him fruits and started telling a story to the gathered children with Mirza in the group. Baba always made his session interactive. He on that day narrated the story of Guru Ramdas and his disciple Chhatrapati Sivaji, he helped children actively participate in the session and was impressed with the searching mind of Mirza who was the cream of the class.

   

At the end of the story, Mirza asked, "What is your name Babaji?" No one knew his name till that day. 

Baba told he is Ramdas. 

"Who then is your Sivaji", joked the talent in Mirza? Babaji instantly pointed his finger to Mirza himself and that ended the Muslim people's inhibition to enter his Ashram.

From that day onwards Mirza moved forward and forward. He achieved all possible academic success available in those days. People of the area called him, ‘Sivaji’. His association with Ramdas continued, he was not an ordinary Baba, was highly educated and in a high position when suddenly he wanted salvation leaving the material world to come to Sunajhari. He guided Sivaji who went on the ladder to be an MBA from the most prestigious IIM. 

It is Baba, who instructed him to earn huge amount of money from Saudi before he returned to India. Whenever MIrza revealed his desire to come back Baba told to wait until the right time. This time Ramdas himself called back Sivaji. So he packed.

On the opposite side of the hill, there was one village called Rangitangar that meant colourful stone. They cut and sold some coloured stones to make their livelihood. It was not possible for children of Rangitangar to cross the hill to reach Babaji's class, as such they remained illiterate. So two opposite things happened in two opposite sides of Sunajhari progress courtesy Baba Ramdas and stagnation of Rangitangar as it was where it was. The stone Mafias remained active on that side.

Mirza was not sure what happened to Baba Ramdas that he called him back; on his return journey, this puzzled him. He had enough money to do a lot of good work in his own area and in the state of Odisha. Too many plans bubbled inside his brain. He tried to control all his thought; all are meaningless for him as he was merely a Sivaji awaiting what Ramdas planned for him. Mirza had no one in the village. Long before, he took his parents to Saudi where they died, one by one in the last two years by natural causes. Mirza felt very lonely in the foreign land. No one forced him to marry or to remain bachelor, and he remained single by his own wish, reason only known to him.

   

He reached and became happy to see the better roads to his village. A lot of development visible in the Madhubana area amazed him. It turned to be the Industrial capital of the state. It was late night by the time he reached Baba's Ashram. Ramdas had arranged all possible welcome for Sivaji, told him to take rest for the night and sleep as much time as his brain demands before they do some meaningful discussion.

In the next morning, Sivaji left his bed much early, to see his area the most beautiful area at dawn. He got the shock of his life, where went the greenery, where is the real Sunajhari, only the ghost is seen! He wanted to reach the stream at its maximum beauty of play, no stream was seen. With difficulties he could recognise, the outline of long dried stream, and wanted to visit all nooks and corners where once he caught hares with snares. He moved up and down, forgot his age and bodily limits and moved like a mad elephant devoid of vegetation till became exhausted both physically and mentally. He did not know how to react to such huge devastation and for unknown reason feared to face Ramdas, as if he an icon of global development destroyed all. There was the leftover of the hill; everywhere he found stones, boulders, and raised crusher units. He cried at the top of his voice like a child lost somewhere.

  

Suddenly someone tapped on his shoulder, he turned back to fall at the feet of Ramdas. 

"Sivaji!" Cried Ramdas. "Control yourself, this was to happen, look at the east to the proud industries of Madhuban, the constructions around, the progress redefined. How this was possible without killing Sunajhari and other resources?" The smoky chimneys of several plants endorsed Baba's voice by making the horizon dusky at the morning sunrise.

Progress redefined.

 “If you raised your voice, you were regressive. I made a mistake to see only this side of Sunajhari. I did not work on the other side of the hill. The village of Rangitangar remained as such.” Baba sighed.

Taking advantage of their poverty and illiteracy, the stone mafias went on eroding from that side which the villagers helped to earn daily wages. There was no gold, no iron, no chromites or no other ore in the hill; still, it could not withstand the human eyes, the flora and fauna no one valued, no costing of the stream was done, people of this side raised weak voice."

Authorities suspected Ramdas, he who left his lavish opportunities in search of salvation was entangled in controversies. They termed him a foreign agent working against progress, he could have left the place and moved to the Himalayas but could not. Soul of Sunajhari did not permit him to leave. The soul inside the wounded body of Sunjhari came very often and told Ramdas not to move before seeing the complete fall of the hill.

“Yes, a big devastation awaits. To avoid that Siva, I required your presence. So I called you”.

   

Sivaji got the message and he, in a few days, could survey the entire hill, how weak it became from the side of Rangitangar. He did not fight with anyone, only made everyone including the mafias aware that the base of the hill had become too weak and it was about to fall. He predicted the fall would take the toll of the two villages on both sides so they should move to safe places. He appealed to the authorities in vain. They did not pay any attention, as this type of things did not happen any time before. In their record Sunajhari existed in full vigour as there was no permission for any mining, extracting, or blasting as if mafias await someone's permission. He wanted to meet the district magistrate and other people of eminence but he feared the days are counted, Ramdas was whipping him to move fast, his power of keeping intact the skeleton of Sunajhari was almost exhausted. The soul of the hill itself had already desired to leave. 

"Move Siva, move fast."

   

So Mirza bribed the poor people a day's wage and the mafias the greed of his huge investment to cooperate to the followers of Baba. Everybody understood the grave situation and got prepared to leave their home for safer distance permanently. No government functionary came to see when he or she moved. The evacuation completed.

Mirza the Sivaji, reported to Ramdas and begged his own evacuation in vain. Ramdas laughed and laughed and told, "Siva, my boy let me laugh and play a few hours with my friend and mother; Sunajhari's soul in our last hours, in any case, the days for both of us is over." Siva prayed, the whole of Sunajhari village also prayed but Baba did not move. He ordered everyone to leave the area before the dusk. Who can disoblige the enlightened Ramdas?  All moved but Sivaji. Baba had made store of his most valuable possessions of divine value that he handed over to Sivaji. He drew his future road map, how he should use his huge money for the benefit of the society and many other powerful discourses for a few hours and blessed him. Siva could not pursue him to come down. Neither had he got his permission to stay with him. Ramdas finally uttered, “Siva your time with me is over, you cannot and should not stay here anymore.” 

    

Baba put his hand over his head. He ceased to be Ramdas and he ceased to be the Muslim of international importance Mirza Ayub Baig, it was the Krishna and the Arjun, he raised the treasury without any further question in a very calm mind, moved his first step towards the road map drawn by Ramdas like Arjun raised his bow of divine duty. He came down with the treasury on his head like an ordinary boy of Sunajhari who once had asked for the first time “What is your name Babaji?’’

It was the first day of Raja, the festival observed with the arrival of monsoon. Heavy clouds crowned atop the hill, lightning and thunderclaps played there. Mirza became anxious, the load would be heavy for the weaker Sunajhari.

However, for a strange reason, all anxiety of Siva vanished and he could sleep well in his designated tent like the whole of Sunajhari and Rangitangar only to wake up in the morning to see Sunajhri had fallen with the Baba. They searched for the body of Baba with the now awakened government functionaries but in vain. 

The oldest man of Sunajhari, a long time help in the Ashram murmured, "Mother Sunajhari and Baba were merrymaking in the midnight just before a huge sound of fall he heard and saw a high luminous element moving up and up that looked like an enlightened mother holding an enlightened baby."

For some strange reason, no one illiterate or educated challenged the old man's statement under the influence of marijuana. The media, local, national and international without any question served his statement to the whole world.

Everybody young or old, Sunajharians or Rangitangarians all looked at Sivaji and without any inhibition addressed him Baba Siva.