Atulya

Some stories haunt our dreams;

Some we deem admirable.

Hearken to this intriguing tale,

Of a man, incomparable.

He was seated in the shade of a lofty banyan tree. The dearth of sunlight made no difference, for he himself dazzled akin to the Sun, radiating the light of pure wisdom.

"Pranam Guruji."

He opened his eyes.

"Pranam Sulochan."

"Pardon me for interrupting your meditation. I have come to inform you that Dhurya had touched a burning lamp by accident, and..."

'Burning lamp'. The words reverberated through him, arousing a memory long forgotten; a memory deserted and abandoned.

*****

'Everything here looks enthralling.'

Atulya continued to stroll around his new abode.

'The flowers here seem livelier, the trees look humungous and the chirping of birds sound mellifluous'

The twelve-year-old cast a glance at the haphazard cottages of the students.

'Until just yesterday, I was denied a chance of having a mere glimpse of this ashram. My fate has been altered in just a day. How amusing!'

"Your turn," said a crude voice.

He turned back to find a group of boys huddled together.

"Name the two earliest Upanishads, " said one.

He advanced towards them hesitantly.

'Will mother's prediction turn out to be true?'

"Don't any of you have an answer?"

'Mother is never wrong.'

"None of you?"

'She might be wrong just this once.'

"The Brihadanyaka and the Chandogya, " he finally said.

Not a single eye turned to meet his. He could, however, sense them all demanding the same from him in the confines of their minds - 'Go back whence you came'.

'Mayhap they feel ashamed of having lost to one who is cursed.' He brushed the thought aside.

"Which deity is the first verse of the Rig Veda dedicated to?"

"Lord Agni, the God of fire, " he blurted out.

Silence.

"Lord Agni, " another said. The sound of ear-piercing applause reverberated through the ashram.

*****

'Why hadn't I?'

He let his tears pour down in a flood of frenzied tears, in the solitude of a cowshed.

'Why?'

Sobs wracked his body.

'Why had I not listened to mother?'

The thundering applause ringed in his ears.

'Why?'

When grief engulfs the mind,

With guilt and gloom combined,

It whispers bitter stories

From your bygone memories.

"Who is Guru Vrishni, brother? Why is the entire village awaiting his arrival?" Atulya asked.

"You do not know the greatest saint of our age? Fie, I say!"

Devaki let out an exasperated sigh." When will you ever stop being insolent? He is but a child!

"He is, forsooth, but a useless one. Much like the three additional fingers in his hand."

Atulya buried his face in his hands.

'I am useless.'

"Stop it this instant, Hari."

"There is no need to mother, for I speak the truth. He is worthless.

'I am worthless.'

" How dare you speak this way! Had your father been here-"

"He isn't here, mother. And what has he left me with? A mother and a wretched brother who people believe is cursed and will not risk hiring for work."

'I am cursed.'

"The two of you will forever remain a burden to me. I will have to run hither and thither for eternity to feed you. You..."

"Atulya! Atulya! Where are you lost?"

He was jolted back from the awful memory.

"When did so many assemble here, Sahishnu?"

"When you were busy dreaming. Look, there he is!" He said, pointing towards a man donned in white, modest clothes.

'So he is the great Guru Vrishni?' Nothing about him suggested greatness. The entire mob assembled in the square bowed down reverentially. He felt a nudge on his shoulder.

"What are you doing? Bend down." Sahishnu said. He immediately did so, fearing that he might displease the only boy who cared about him.

"Rise," he said.

He proceeded to bend down and gather as much sand as his hand permit. The villagers watched with rapt attention. He raised his hand. "What is the precise amount of sand I now hold?"

The silent square erupted into a frenzy of murmurs.

"Precise amount of sand?"

"Impossible."

"What is..."

"A fistful, " Atulya said. The murmurs came to a halt.

Guru Vrishni walked up to the boy and caressed his hair." Tomorrow you will accompany me to my ashram."

*****

"You will not go to the ashram."

All the way back home, he kept picturing the tears of joy she would shed on learning about the sudden turn of events in his life. This, howbeit, was least expected.

"But mother, I..."

"All think you are cursed, Atulya." Not a single tear made its way through her eyes, for sorrow never caresses those who accept their destiny. After years of struggle, she had finally succeeded in accepting the cruel destiny flung upon her sinless son." None in the ashram will tolerate your presence. They will forsake you. You will stay alone there, miles away from the only one who genuinely loves you."

But he had already made up his mind. " I must go, mother. I must utilize this opportunity to prove to one and all that the eight fingers in my hands are not the sign of a curse, but the mark of my novelty."

*****

'Why had I not listened to mother? Why?'

"Dear one."

Atulya turned back. The cowshed was darker than when he had arrived.

"Guru Vrishni?"

"Why were you weeping?"

"Because I am good at nothing but this."

"Weeping is not a sign of weakness, child. It is merely a means of conveying one's anguish. I have, at times, wept for hours on end."

"You are the epitome of wisdom, the embodiment of intellect. I am a mere fool. Pray, do not defame yourself by comparing the two of us."

"Am I wise?"

" Without a doubt."

"Prudent?"

" Undeniably."

" Then would I have mistaken in recognising your intelligence?"

The mere touch of a lamp, ignited,

Will ignite another.

The mere talk with a man, enlightened,

Will enlighten the other.

"I brought you here for I recognized in you an immense potential. The potential of becoming one of the greatest men our soil has nurtured."

'Me?'

"Only a burning lamp can ignite another. Likewise, to illuminate the minds of the ignorant with the light of knowledge, you must be aglow yourself. I have brought you here to provide your lamp of knowledge with ample oil to stay ablaze till your end."

"I am not worthy of such an honour. I am worthy of nothing. Everyone I have met have said so."

The Guru's wisened face creased into a smile. "Vats, what would a fool do if I were to give him a diamond of incalculable worth."

The unexpected question left him confused. "He would most likely misconceive it to be a mere piece of rock?"

"Will his ignorance alter the value of the diamond?"

"No."

"Well said. The value of an invaluable gem will not decrease because of a fool's incapability to see its worth."

Tears of joy flowed down his cheeks, bringing out with them the fear and self-doubt he had battled with his entire life.

*****

Sulochan was alarmed on seeing the most revered man of his time reduced to tears.

" The burns in Dhurya's hands are minor, Guruji! The nurse told so himself."

Atulya smiled and wiped his tears. " I am aware that he is in safe hands, Sulochan. I shed tears for I had forgotten to teach you a lesson of immense import."

His disciple's ears perked up in curiosity. "What is it Guruji?"

"Never permit another to make you feel purposeless, and never fail to recall the one who makes you feel worthy."