Driving my way home in the evening, suddenly a thought stuck me…oh, its diwali!! I should have been home by now…I saw the light turning red and decided that if anybody called up from home, I would tell them that I am almost there and would take only 5 more minutes. The halt was a petrifying one…but different too, from the sensations that it usually arose when I experienced it every now and then. Sometimes my senses become too acute to anything noticeable (to sometimes unnoticeable things too) that it becomes difficult to contain the thoughts then…they run like wild boars…pretty unconcerned to what comes their way! The countdown…7, 6..3..1…the green light, and here goes a cracker right in the middle of the crossing “boooom”. The sound was baffling…rather scary.
The sounds are something that have always attracted me. The hymns, the chants…the music…but crackers?? Can it be possible that all the people who are lighting these fireworks, actually like the sound of it? Or is it the vision, the brightness…the illumination that makes them fire these “dummy bombs” and enjoy. Or is it nothing more than “who spends more” philosophy? But sure it cant be the sound.
The road seemed quite different. “I have been using this road almost everyday for more than an year now…is it that if somebody blinds me…brings me to this road…and gives me back my vision…will I be able to make out where am I? Would I know that I am on this road?”. I looked around at the trees and other accessories displayed on the banks and thought…”off course!!”. “But is it not that…I know where am I right now…so I think that I ll know even then”. I looked at the trees and the accessories again…trying to forget that I know where I was…trying to unlearn the relationship with the space…and suddenly it all changed; the road that I had been cruising twice everyday (atleast) since time immemorial seemed all new and distant. But how could that be possible?? How can I possibly not relate to the space?? How come I had to think at every turn “to turn or not to turn”, when usually the “familiar” road itself drives me home?? I said “Focus on the road…take lessons in life…you don’t want “it” to get repeated, do you?”. The very thought of the series of incidents that had happened an hour ago sent chills down my spine.
I reached home…with tones of thoughts beating my head like a drum…I barely remember how I parked the car, if I had taken out the keys before locking…what exactly was the time when I reached...et al. All I remember is the “pundit” with John Abraham hair and white attire from tip to tow reading out chants to my parents. He was quite amused to see me…guess mom had already done the fieldwork! But the first thing that really attracted me was the sound…of the whole ritual. I sat next to the white man and tried to participate in the performance. Yes, I call it performance…not in a derogatory sense, but because performance is a part of the ritual. How important are sounds in Hinduism! How much importance does this religion give to the effect that “good” or “bad” sounds can have on a human. I remembered the days when in school we were to pray to Jesus and thank him for all that he had done for us. But those prayers were like…so unlike these sing-song chanting that this holy guy was doing in front of us…they were more like interacting with somebody in our day to day language…I also remembered how, despite being the black sheep in a highly religious and pious family, I had always been attracted by the mere sounds of the “shlokas” and “mantras” that were sung during the “havans” and the “yagyas” that happened every once in a while in the world around me. “To listen…”, the pundit suddenly said, “is of supreme importance in this universe. Good listening helps one succeed in any and every run of life. The holy sensation that listening is…even if someone hears the Sundar Kaand everyday, unintentionally without understanding it, he would be blessed because the sound it self has the power to grant wisdom.” Sounds…interestingly enough, it jelled in so well with the “questions cauldron” that my mind was at that moment. I didn’t notice much that happened after that…though I still remember the sensations that those sounds ignited in me.
The priest, once through with the whole affair, starting interacting more pomplessly now. I remember him asking me “why don’t you speak much??”…I was startled, as if woken up from a dream. I said “yeah, I do sometimes” and I could see the amusement on his face on hearing my voice for the first time in the evening. Sounds…its indeed important to listen. Had “he” listened, “it” wouldn’t have happened. If he had just listened to the car honking, perhaps he wouldn’t have had that accident!! If the driver of the vehicle would have listened to his cry…perhaps he would have stopped to see whom he had run over!! If the other people on the road would have listened to his groans…perhaps they would have stopped by to see if anything could be done to save him!! And what if even I, like others, wouldn’t have listened to hi pain…perhaps I wouldn’t have taken him to the hospital then!!
What if this priest could listen…listen to the hard truths and realize that there is more in life than just reading scriptures and worshipping gods all day long...he would surely know that religion is wonderfully scientific, and nothing super-natural!! What if my parents would listen…listen and realize that at that moment, to save “his” life was more important than to keep myself away from any police case that I might end up getting into…I would have shared with them what happened that evening!!
High on grass…or high on life??
PS: Happy Diwali!!
Monday, October 30, 2006
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