Sunday, July 22, 2012

Yaksha's question, love and the tree


During my flight upwards after my fifth and the last dip in the Gangas I felt as if sun has just came low, so very. It was bright, lustrous yet cool. So, it’s not sun then, I thought. I rushed and he stood an inch away from me, ok may be two.

He had a circular ring of light around his head; his forehead glowing with intelligence, his body had more gold than hairs and cloths. His robe was golden white, his dhoti was as neatly done as it could have been and nonetheless we were standing in water almost chest deep, his dress was as set as it would be on a still day. He raised his hand as if suggesting (ordering?) me to march towards the bank. I nonchalantly followed.

We took up about 10-12 steps and the water came up to almost my thighs when he signaled me to stop and he himself rose, as if the water was a normal pedestal. By this time I got a bit habituated of his aura and was not totally allured or amazed. Not to demean his stature, he wasn’t that young or had any abs; rather his tummy looked more out of shape than mine. It was then that the lights went back to normal and then he began.

“O young man! You shall freeze in this holy water if you try to move even a single pace.”
“Why? What have I done? And how could you anyway just pop up out of water and put such curse on me?” Thanks to my senses, I didn’t act over smart by moving.
“Nothing! But I am the owner of this part of water and I swear I can do what I promised. I am Jal Yaksh, brother of the mighty Bak yaksh.” His voice sounded very convincing.
“Is there anything I can do to reprimand my innocence? Anyway to get out alive?”
“Of course little human!”
“How? Please tell me?” Little, duh! Stand at the same heights and everyone would know who is taller. I rejected this thought in a nano-second so that he could not read my mind out.
“You look like a learned man, aren’t you? We Yakshas love quizzing learned dudes. Do answer this one question of mine and I will not only spare your life but will also grant you a wish. But in case you fail to answer, you will stand still here until all the water flows over the human race.”
“Sure sir! If I don’t have a choice I would rather take a chance that to die here standing in a dhoti and unshaved chest.” How damn embarrassing!
Listening to this, the Yaksha took out a mattress like thing from air and placed it on water and sat on that and started narrating this story to me:


Long ago in not a far off place there was a huge tree, old, wise and unaffected by the seasons. One fine monsoon morning a creeper took birth and was soon grown up like a green and beautiful scarf. She looked at the tree with a hope, an expectation of shelter. Her eyes mesmerizing, her voice docile and her approach reverenced.
The tree who was conceived as god of all the animals, insects and birds was kind and proud. He took upon the liana and allowed her to climb up. They loved each other for days and months. The tree looks like wearing a crimson, pink and green scarf. It look beautiful to eyes, his fame enhanced and only godly Kalptaru could have had matched that.
The creeper was also very happy, it replaced almost all small twigs and leaves down under. The greenness has increased and it almost glowed. The gussets blossomed at an exponential rate and now the tree and the creeper could not have been imagined separately.
Days of chanson and love passed away, the season changed summer was in with its brutal force all over.  The birds moaned in heat, the leaved ached in loneliness, but the tree stool still embraced with the green and lovely limbs.
Slowly but surely the pain and the grief of the smaller kind went upon his very summit, the vultures have arrived.
Oh art thou! The god of life was surrounded by the signals of death. The ones whom he took oath to protect were dying in front of his eyes. The tree was shattered and down. He asked his beloved creeper:

Dearie O' creeper, love for we live,
Burning they are, children, their hid,
Can you abash, contract a bit,
So can they get shelter they need.

She brutally refused saying:

They are all grownups,
they are no kids,
Nor are you father,  
to fulfill their needs.
I used so less,
that too for love.
Why don't you just say,
there is someone else.

Months passed. The glory and wealth of the tree were now a story of past. By the look it felt that the tree must have been splendid sometime but it was no more the same. The creeper grew younger though.
One day after the offering the morning prayers to sun, the tree was watching carefully if any of the birdies were around to talk he saw his beloved creeper clinging to the other tree on his left. “So, that was it? That is why she was ignoring me.” He thought.
Though creeper said they were only friends and talked rarely, the news spread and so did the creeper over the other tree. The other tree in itself was small and fruitless and had millions of thorns. Their story didn’t go too far and the bindweed came back to the tree, her older loving friend. The tree was broken somewhere inside but still loved here so much that he didn’t even murmured.
Time is such a special agent; it brings so many things and situation we could never imagine.                  The tree was now getting really hollow, devoid of his loved ones, his authority, his pureness, his majesty, his empire, his ego and most of all self esteem. There was another young tree taking shape nearby. It has a similar aura the tree had in its youth. Same twigs, same strong branches, same hardened and mighty roots and same desire for greatness. “Ah! Older days! The tree would think often. ”
One of the vultures one day told the tree that the creeper has been seen embracing the another tree and alas! It was true. The green scarf was missing from the monstrous tree. The symbol, the identity which was there now for almost 18 years has gone and where? To a nearby tree! Another tree!
The tree decided to have a final talk. When the world was sleeping, it murmured slowly into the ears of the creeper “Why shall you do this to me?”
“You are no more the same you. You have changed a lot. You keep asking too many questions. I don’t get any personal space. Moreover, everyone looks for a better and secure future, what you have today to offer me? A junkyard body? ” Her reply was as blunt as it gets.
“So?” The tree was still confused.
“I don’t think it is working anymore between us. Let us part our ways now.”
“Part our ways! Is this a joke for you? I gave my golden years to you and now part our ways? Is there anything left for me now?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to talk over it now.”
The creeper now stays wrapped to another tree and they look generally happy. The tree still prays and looks to the star. It is still the tallest tree around yet ruined and best describable as a skeleton of its stupendous past.
It’s been seven  years since then when the creeper came back to the tree yesterday saying that it has been her best friend. She always wanted to keep it as an option and never seen it out of her life. She wants to come back as another tree takes no more interest in her. She has again started engulfing the lower step of the tree in her warm embrace. The tree now says nothing – neither yes nor no. It is quiet, as quiet as an old age sinner sitting on the Himalayas, repenting for his sins.


The Yaksha took a deep breath after narrating the story. “Who do you think have been at fault the most: The tree, the creeper, the other tree, another tree or the vultures?”
I gathered all my thoughts and learning on market strategy and women empowerment. I had no guts to face feminine activists on saying a word against creeper; she had to be pious as Gangas itself. The other tree represented backward class and rose above all with quota and on saying anything I might have been spared by Yaksha but not by law. Another tree was strong and the future of earth, saying anything to it would bring me bad name for sure.
“Yes! I know it. It is the tree who is culprit for all this.” I said in a blink.
“Good! You answered it perfectly. I shall spare you now. Ask your wish intelligent man.” He smiled.
“I would for once want to see that tree in case it is still there.” I was interested to see the giant who failed in love.
“Granted son!” The Yaksha and the light vanished.

I was puzzled for few minutes. When I gathered that I do not have anything to ponder about I retreated back to home. Not sure why, but I took the longer route which takes me home along the country and not the road. Very few people used that and there was pleasant silence on that path which for my amusement was not to be there today.
I saw about 50 men standing like a crowd and inquired about the incident.
“The huge tree which had almost no leaves has fallen off suddenly.”  Someone said.
I was shocked! 
Was the Yaksha god of death? 
Was he confirming if the tree should be killed? 
Was the tree hurt that not even a story listener stood by his side?
I turned my head in disbelief and there she was – All green, vastly extended over the another tree, smiling with all the beauty she had.


                                                                                                                                                                                                          

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