Tamanna Islam

Abstract

4.3  

Tamanna Islam

Abstract

Humans & Bhagwans

Humans & Bhagwans

5 mins
110


Reciting the last line of Gita, Bhagwan Tripathi folded it patiently and reached for the shelf to keep it. He raised his feet a little to put the holy book as the place was higher than his head. The absentmindedly he came outside and started walking in the garden. The sky was stuffed with black clouds as if it were ready to burst into the city anytime; the air was fusty that the unrest of his mind could be seen through the environment. Suddenly he felt an urge to see the boy he rescued last night from them. He went in and saw the boy, sleeping like a lamb in its mother's womb. He stooped closer to the boy to check his wound. ' It's much worse than I assumed. He should be hospitalized. BUT...!' A cold shiver went down his spine just thinking it. He somehow managed his anxiety, stood up, and went to the kitchen to warm some milk for the poor boy. 


Bhagwan's shop is right at the corner of the bar in a small town in New Delhi. Every day he wakes up, finishes his puja and goes to the shop and opens it in the name of Hanuman Ji. By nature, he's pretty reserved and reluctant to his surroundings but today's different. Another shop beside the Dairy farm was burnt to ashes last night. It was Anwar's shop. Presumably, every one of his family was in there considering their house wasn’t safe anymore. What's happening in the city isn’t unknown to anyone no matter how much reserved they are! The world was never a better place. It rots in conflict and people fight with people for dominance. Just yesterday he heard an unknown Pandit Ji was giving a speech while he was going to his shop. The crowd around him was pretty tight. He tried to walk past but couldn’t resist himself to hear some of it. 'We have.... assistance. Don't........a single Mollah.......it is our DUTY.' He knew what this is all about but ignored it; because he neither supports nor cares any of it. He was in fact surprised to feel his reluctance in this matter. Politicians say this and that about humanity. Until it touches our nerves or even our dearest ones, nobody comes forward-thinking they are in the safe zone.

But the neutral zone didn’t serve him for too long. When he was passing Anwar's shop last night; first he saw the flame then he heard the noise. someone was crying near the gate. He rushed to it and found the boy, Anwar's boy. He's seen the boy running along with his friends and picking up naughty play to disturb the market people. Deep down in his heart, probably he cherished a son as naughty and restless as him. From his childhood, he was alone and never felt the peaceful disturbance of any family members. Now that the boy crawled into his lap in search of safety, a thin layer of fatherhood rose in him. He checked on him with the softest voice, ' Are you okay, my boy?' seeing the situation, even an enemy will get goosebumps. The boy mumbled something. He quickly took him in his shoulder and came to his house.

The boy's wounds seemed really dangerous. He couldn’t say or eat anything. Once in a while, he would shout ' fire' or call for his mother. Anwar was never close to Bhagwan. Still, he couldn’t bear to watch the boy suffer. Then again, he questioned himself, ‘Why this secrecy? Who was he afraid of? He will do what he has to do at that time. These riots will come and go; history holds the evidence. And these deaths will be shown on the headlines tomorrow and then we will forget, forever.' 


For the safety of the boy and his own, he didn’t publicly go to the hospital but called a doctor in his shop. In a pile of dirty clothes, he hid the boy and started for his shop. In the road, he casually walked as if he's going to do laundry. Reaching there at the shop, his whole life just shattered for a bit. He saw the unknown Pandit Ji with some other boys. He understood, somehow, they got information about the boy. The Pandit started with a soft voice then started yelling, 'We are the Bhagwans of this place. We will decide what will happen to each and every people here. Give the boy to us or be exiled from our community. ' But Bhagwan couldn’t answer or protest any of it. Trauma froze his whole body. The next few events happened so fast that everything seemed like flashbacks in black and white. He felt nothing, did nothing just stand there. He knew what destiny is waiting for the boy. They beat him and the boy, broke all the furniture in the shop, did the final attempt to kill the boy and left. Suddenly he retrieved his sense and saw the quivering flames at his shop. He quickly dragged himself and boy out of the shop. After all this, He felt really light-headed and empty- the learning of Gita, humanity, speeches, flames flashed before his eyes. He just sat there holding the boy in his arms.


The sky thundered and shuddered with all its might and rain hit his face like bullets. 'At least', Bhagwan thought, 'I'm not one of them.' 'Where are you, God? Look, Earthly Bhagwans shredded blood for heavenly Bhagwan. They say they do this for you. Is it...IS IT?' he couldn’t shout anymore. Tears came gushing through his cheeks mingling with the rain. His newly got fatherhood got crashed by the fighting of fake fellow feeling. Meanwhile, the air was running in the opposite direction where the smoke's still coming from the shop and all Bhagwan had left was the still eyed body of the boy.


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