The Third Eye

The shy blushing bundle was carried in with fanfare.  Finally Sheila Rani Kher had found a bride for lame son Raju who had been afflicted by polio since childhood.  Sheila was actually the great aunt of the bride.  Maya, the newlywed had just lost her parents in a rock fall during a pilgrimage to the family shrine in lower Himalayas.  She was barely sixteen and lack of dowry had brought her to this impasse.  Maya was still under shock and had performed marriage rituals in dumb misery.  Apathetically she curled up on the nuptial bed adorned with rose petals.  Her extremely fair hands and feet were covered with intricate traditional henna designs.  Maya was wearing a ruby red salwar suit (harem pants and top) and her dupatta (scarf) was laced with tiny gold bells studded with gold lace stars.  On her forehead a gold Tikka glittered (forehead ornament) hung by pearls string from her hair.   Her anklets and bracelets made tinkling sounds each time she fidgeted. She had a black and gold bead necklace called mangalsutra around her neck which was the symbol of a marriage.  She was a sumptuous feast wrapped up in gold and rubies.  She waited for her husband with heart in mouth.   

Distant beat of drums could still be heard as women relatives continued their song and dance.   All the men were hung over on country liquor and sounds of puking could be heard sporadically. Sheila had a haranguing tongue that kept husband and son in check and now she was letting loose choice epithets as she and others were forced to clean up after the men.  Still Sheila was very happy as she longed to become a grand-mother. 

Raju was slim, of medium height, fair complexion, high cheekbones, a perfect nose and chiseled lips.  A small neat moustache formed a great base for his twinkling kindly eyes.  His dependency on a cane had not soured him and he thanked god for a wonderful mother.  She massaged his limbs daily and tied a fresh amulet on his arm every other week and fed him his favorite dishes.  He was aware of her mixing various herbs in his food.  He still ate everything knowing it was for his betterment.  The latest concoction had been the flesh of a cactus which an itinerant monk had given to her to enhance Raju’s manliness and strengthen his limbs.  Raju hated the taste but grudgingly ate it as he had implicit faith in his mom’s love.  Raju had a pet mule “Shera” who helped carry him over mountain passes.  He travelled into satellite towns to purchase goods for the family’s dry grocery store when inventory ran low.  This also gave him news of their community, district and state.   Raju had a fine brain and with the help of a kindly headmaster had obtained a bachelor’s degree in economics.  Now he taught English and math in junior classes and was happy with his lot.  He had been bulldozed into this marriage by his pushy mother against his will.  Thus, he entered his bedroom with equal trepidation as his bride. 

Raju and Maya had met briefly at family gatherings only.  Maya was still wallowing in misery and was scared for her future.  She was however savvy about birds and bees as her mother had prepared her well, tutoring her to expertly fend off straying hands and other mauling.  She always carried a tiny dagger on her person.  It was a family heirloom and very ancient.  One peculiar thing about Maya’s mother’s family had been that it was a family of seers and often a child was born with a third eye.  In olden times people ostracized them due to ignorance but these days they were respected and much sought after.

Per umpteen movie scenes of first wedding night, Raju removed the veil covering Maya face and spoke to her very gently.  Listening to his kind tone, Maya lost a bit of her fear and paid closer attention to his words.  He said “First and foremost I wish to express my grief over the loss of your parents.  Rest assured I will not make any demands on you until unless you yourself are willing and ready.  In the interim we can become good friends and understand one another.  Also please do not fear mother even though she is like a prickly pear.  She has a heart of gold.”  Hearing this, Maya’s worries vanished.  Time has a way of passing and it was two years already since Raju and Maya had married.  Now they had become fast friends and Maya was ready for a family.  Raju felt great joy at his chance of happiness finally as he loved kids and longed to be a dad.  Maya had come to love and respect Raju and his parents who had been extremely patient with her.  Maya was not a shirker and helped Sheila in tending home and caring for the cows and kitchen garden.    In nine months Maya presented the family with twins, a boy and girl.  They named them Suraj and Tara after sun and star. 

The kids grew like weeds.  Suraj was a handful whereas Tara was placid.  From early on family tiptoed around her.  They felt her quiet power as though some goddess had reincarnated in their home and treated her with deference.  Tara was born with the third eye and often in sleep she started making predictions that always came true.  Be it the rainfall or lack of it, a birth, death, windfall et al.  Soon whole town clamored after her but she only spoke in sleep state.  Maya protected her daughter fiercely.   She knew well that such a gift could be a curse too.

Tara was very fond of her brother and always covered up for him.  Suraj too loved her very much and even though she was his twin he looked up to her. 

Suraj was playing ball with his friends after school when one of the volleys’s overshot and landed in the bushes.  The kids ran to retrieve it.  By sheer bad luck Suraj got bitten by a cobra that was nesting there.   The quick thinking kids spat out the venom by biting into his leg.  Poison was spreading fast.  Two of them ran to fetch help.   

Suraj’s vitals had become feeble.  The local doctor was trying his best.  The family sat praying non-stop.  Then Tara came running and put her hand on her brother’s forehead.  She started swaying and chanting in a strange ancient tongue.  The venom started transferring from Suraj’s veins into Tara’s.  Suraj stabilized and Tara fell into a deep swoon. 

A week before Tara had had a vision and knew Suraj had a short life span.  She chanted non-stop for two days before the deity appeared.  They had made a pact.  The twins would now each live to fifty and not a day more.  Tara had happily given up half her life span for Suraj.  No one knew about this pact.     

Word count: 1168

note: Third eye means clairvoyance in the Hindu religion 

picture from internet

Transition- Part II

http://www.binaguptapoetry.com/transition-1102.htm

Little Bobbie was in seventh heaven to have the secret room as his very own and wanted to sleep there as well.  His parents decided to make him happy as this way they could keep an eye on him more easily.

Bobbie was an only child and ever since he learnt to walk, he would be all over the
house playing with toys in hand.  His mom Raji tried to restrain him in his room by feeding and playing with him there.  Gradually Bobbie kept to his room and when he was lonely he would start speaking with his friend Kanha.  He would say” Kanha, please come and play with me.  I want to be your playmate.”  Suddenly, Kanha would emerge from the silver statue and they would play for hours together.  Now the sounds of two pairs of anklets would reverberate in the house.    Raji and the maid would hear this delightful tinkle and smile.  It never occurred to them that it was the sound made by two pairs.  After Bobbie got tired and fell asleep hugging his pal Balgopal, the Lord would merge back into the statue.

 

One day Bobbie woke up early and looked for his pal but he was not there!  Instead there was a lovely peacock feather on his pillow.

 

He stared at it in wonder!  He had liked the feather on Balgopal’s gold crown and had wanted one also.  Carefully he put the feather in his Alphabet book. 

Raji had finished cooking and was between chores.  She decided to sit early with Bobbie to teach the alphabets and numbers.  On opening the book, she found the lovely peacock feather.  Upon asking the child where he got it, Bobbie said “Mom my pal Gopal gave it to me!”  Raji was mystified and questioned her son further.  She asked “Which Gopal?”  Bobbie pointed to the silver statue in the swing.  He said “He plays with me every day and even sleeps with me.  I had asked him to get me a feather just like the one he has on his head.”   Raji was overjoyed and believed her son!  She realized the room had a very peaceful aura and instead of the usual musty smell, it had a pleasing fragrance of fresh jasmine flowers and camphor.  She hugged her son and kissed him in pure joy.  She joined her hands and prayed babbling her thanks to Him for gracing their home.
It was Janamashtami day and Bobbie’s parents both fasted and broke it only after midnight.  Next day they held kirtan in their home and invited all the neighbors for lunch.  The silver Kanha seated in the swing occupied the place of honor in the living room where one corner has been converted into a temporary temple.  Fifty six varieties of sweets had been prepared for the lord and the house resounded with sounds of bhajans and rejoicing celebrating the birth of the lord.  Finally it was over and the lord was returned to Bobbie’s room.  Bobbie had been excited by the day’s goings on and had played to his heart’s content with the guest’s kids.  He had other playmates now.

 

Bobbie was often invited to other homes and between play and day school he became busy and hence did not call out to his playmate as often as before.  Their meetings became infrequent and then stopped completely. 
Bobbie was sent home early from school as he was unwell.  Raji immediately took him to the doctor who said he had caught a virus and gave him a mild sedative and medicines.  The child’s fever was very high and Raji sat by his bedside placing cooling cloth pads on his forehead to lower the temperature.  She was weeping silently.  Then as Bobbie settled down into a fitful rest, she left the room.  

After an hour or so, Bobbie woke up suddenly and cried out to his old pal Balgopal.  He said “please Kanha come and talk to me.  I know I have been busy but you know I love you very much Kanha.”  The lord emerged from the statue and sat by his side.  Then Kanha placed his tiny hand on Bobbie’s forehead and in a few minutes the fever vanished.  Bobbie got up and both played as before.  Then the Lord told Bobbie that now that he had become a big boy he did not need him any more and that whenever he remembered HIM he should close his eyes and he would appear as HE lived in his heart.  He said he had to visit other boys who needed him.  They hugged each other and the Lord merged into the statue never to appear again.

Kesar and Rajratan smiled happily in their portraits which hung in Bobbie’s room and which his sons had left for Bobbie along with the silver statue and the swing.

all pictures are from the internet except last one which is mine 

Transition

Little Bobby loved to venture now that he could crawl.  His mom Raji was usually at her wit’s end turning pots n pans, closets, nooks and crannies for him.  Finally she’d extricate him with cobwebs hanging on curly locks and dust smearing his cherubic face.  His endearing smile melted her anger and she hugged him to her bosom, thankful that he was safe.

Bobby

“Mom is really busy today and now that my tummy is full, I can go and seek new adventure.”  His tiny anklets tinkling, the baby made a beeline for his favorite haunt, that secret room with big brass inlaid doorway and old fashioned chain and lock where happily he gurgled and cooed as though playing with someone.  Luckily the door had been unlocked for mopping and dusting.

“Today I am going to explore that dark corner which has some really interesting jars and pots.  Even though I like that silver baby in the swing a lot but if I can crawl into the rocking chair, then I can have a better look.  Let’s see if I am able to climb on.” 

Pre-Partition of India and Pakistan

Chowdhary Ratan Singh was greatly respected in his town in West Punjab, now in Pakistan.  His family owned a flourishing business in dry fruits.  His brothers and their families also lived in the rambling mansion.  Ratan had one son and two daughters.  He got his girls settled early and was on the lookout for a suitable bride for his son Rajratan(Raj).  Around that time there was a problem in the dry fruit supply from Kabul and he sent Raj to investigate.  Raj went to meet their main supplier Aftab Khan who invited him for dinner.  There he met Khan’s daughter Kesar and fell head over heels in love with her.  Kesar felt the same pull.  She knew her father was ready to marry her off to her awful cousin Kaif who was a mean person and hence knowing their families would never agree, they bolted to Delhi.

 

Kesar’s mother was in the know and not only approved but had given whatever money she could lay her hands on and jewelry.  She even sent a maid to help them.  Both the fathers were angry and washed their hands off them and forbid everyone from even uttering their names.  Ratan cursed his first born but on his deathbed forgave his son and wished they had patched up. 
Rajratan Singh and Kesar were hardworking and after selling their jewelry and diamond ear-rings they were able to have enough seed money to start they own dry fruit business in Delhi.  Both knew the supply sources and through a trusted hand were able to build up their business from scratch.  Here in Delhi festivals and marriages took place all the time hence dry fruits were always in demand.  They had chosen well.  The couple missed their old homes.  They constructed their new home incorporating the beauty of both ancestral homes.  The doors had brass inlaid work and the windows and latticed balconies had intricate colored glass designs to keep the harsh summer sun out.  Cross ventilation kept their home cool.  They were happy except for the one recurring pain in their bosom for their kith n kin whom they missed dreadfully.    Raj and Kesar each had worn cameos of their parents around their neck and hence got paintings done of their elders and it occupied a place of honor in their diwan khana (drawing room).  The kids would get to know their grand parents in this manner only.

Time sped and Raj and Kesar’s two sons decided to study abroad where they subsequently married and settled down never to return. The parents  grieved for their sons realizing how their own parents must’ve felt.  They reconciled and now took one day a time.      

There was a lot of unrest against the British rule.  Some firebrand Hindus decided to bomb the local prison and set free their leaders.  Raj and Kesar were in the bazaar when the bomb misfired and were killed instantly.  Their horse buggy driver and jack of all cook Bakshi quickly gathered up their mangled bodies and got them cremated before sundown. Then they dispatched mail to their sons overseas to return home and immerse the ashes in the holy Ganges.    The letters never reached as the post office was bombed the next day.  The sons remained oblivious of their parent’s demise.  Finally the family lawyer as per instructions sold off the mansion keeping one room locked with family heirlooms for the sons whom he had informed via telegram.  It was a clause that was agreed upon by the buyer in the sale deed.  Their parent’s curse did not let Raj and Kesar rest in peace and their ashes languished along with the heirlooms.  They lingered on.

 

This was the room which attracted the baby most.  The keys had been provided to the new owner for mopping and dusting and for this service the sale price had been adjusted.

Little Bobby managed to climb the rocker in the forbidden room.  He was in seventh heaven.  There were so many interesting objects on the mantle above the fireplace.  Also there were those huge pictures of old people.  He scrambled down and crawled into the corner, when suddenly four hands quickly embraced him and hugged him.  He felt kisses being showered on his cheeks and squealed with delight.  The maid was passing by and heard the sound and came rushing in.  She brought out the dirty squirmy brat and then his mother saw perfect lip marks on his two cheeks! She got the fright of her life!  She decided to investigate.  She saw the nook where Bobby had crawled and there under the red velvet cloth lay two pots tied up with red threads.  They looked like someone’s ashes!

So the old people’s spirits were still in residence!  Oh my God! Her hand flew to her mouth in a silent cry.  She quickly called her husband home and showed him the ashes.

Next morning they called the local pundit who knew the departed well and said that they were waiting for salvation at the hands of their sons.  Fortunately the sons were finally in town to tie up the loose ends of the family business and property sale and had indicated that they would like to see what their parents had stored for them.  They were grief stricken and remorseful about their callous neglect.  But it was too late.  Next day they performed “Havan” and all rituals required to speed off their loved ones.  They immersed the ashes in the holy Ganges.  In their dream their parents had asked them to gift their silver swing with Bal Gopal to little Bobby their little playmate whom they had enjoyed during transition.

Bobby was in seventh heaven as now the secret room was thrown open and made into his playroom.  He slept with the Balgopal by his bedside.  His elderly friends no longer played with him.  They were resting in peace.

pictures from internet- not mine

A Journey- a Connection

A Journey- a Connection

 

Sometimes, certain journeys are like a renaissance painting, a bit blurred but pleasant on the eye and soul soothing.  Such were the trips we’d made consecutively a few years ago during our visit to India.

My sister has great faith in this particular Devi shrine in Himachal and both times she was delighted to have us n make it a family outing.

We piled into a Tata Sumo van in wee hours.  Bro-in-law’s  best friend Jay likes to drive.  After invoking  Hindu god Ganesh and   goddess shakti also knowns as “devi” we were on our way.  Jay is a diehard fan of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan hence out of his copious pockets he withdrew some tapes and we were treated to some soulful sufi music.   We were entranced.  The mood was set for the trip.

I have absolutely no road sense, so will only dwell on what my mind captured on these trips.  On our way after several hours, I recall having a sumptuous meal at a  (roadside diner)   Dhaba.  Then we were climbing the mountains and the hairpin curves around white limestone/sandstone cliffs were rather daunting.  Luckily none of us was nauseous and then we had halted midway up the mountain at a Shiva shrine inside a cave.  This was a natural cave temple of Trilokpur containing a stalactite and stalagamite dedicated to Shiva. High on the ridge of the cave we saw the ruins of a palace and baradari (audience hall). Ihe Shiva temple was very ancient and we had to bend very low to enter this shrine.  Outside, there was a lovely waterfall(banganga) and I felt this is how mount Kailash would be with Ganga flowing out of the Shiva locks as he meditated.

  After paying due obeisance we were on our way reluctant to leave as it was very peaceful high up in the mountains. The Kangra valley is one of the most picturesque valleys of lower Himalayas. Ancient Hindu Temples like Bajreshwari Devi, Chamunda Devi, Baijnath Shiv temple and Jwala Devi ji dot the country side. The valley, sheltered by the sublime Dhauladhar range, is green and luxuriant. It provides a tremendous contrast in nature.

I recall visiting the various “Devi” shrine during these trips. The one place that completely enchanted me was this ancient shrine of Mata called Bagalamukhi.    The Bankhandi temple is located on the Dehra-Dharamsala road, Kangra. There had been a rock fall and a good portion had fallen inwards inside the cave itself.  The inner sanctorum was intact and the caretakers had built a small entrance and veranda around it.  Belief had it that whatever boon you ask there will be fulfilled.  My sister firmly believed in it after a narrow escape and her husband had promised  the Devi that he would return to give thanks and hold a langar (lunch)for the local children and their families. 

After due respects everyone was busy mustering up the locals and preparing for the langar feast.  I absorbed the peace and tranquility of the place.  It was incredible.  The aura and the vibrations were amazing.  Mercifully there were no crowds and in fact at that time we were the only ones there.  I was allowed to sit in the inner sanctorum and the bliss was tangible.  I closed my eyes and meditated.  I was transported.  It was almost an out of body experience.  I was floating and drawn towards the deity. Peace descended on my bruised spirit like a soothing salve.  The Mother had taken me in her arms and removed all my hurts absorbing them and filling the void with love.  I was in a blissful state.  had journeyed within and without. This shrine’s power was quite potent and I felt it fully. I cherish this experience holding it close to my heart.

*In Hinduism, Bagalamukhi or Bagala is one of the ten mahavidya goddesses. Bagalamukhi Devi smashes the devotee’s misconceptions and delusions by her cudgel. She is also known as Pitambara in Northern Parts of India. (wiki)

**Kangra HP, rich in culture and history is sheltered by the massive Dhauladhar range of mountains and this majestic mountain range surpasses all others in its grandeur The history of Kangra valley dates back to vedic times, more than 3,500 years ago. It finds mention in the Puranas the Mahabharta and in Rajtarangani. Kangra valley is one of the most picturesque valleys in the Himalayas. The famous Bajeshwari Devi temple is located in the town.  Kangra town is situated at the confluence of the Baner and Majhi streams, overlooking the Banganga torrent famous for temples, forts and now a speedily emerging as a business centre. There are two other important Hill stations in district Kangra known as Dharamsala and Palampur. All in all, Kangra with a numerous important temples is a great destination for people looking to go on a religious holiday escape.

Dharamshala is full of Buddhist air and McLeod Ganj is Dalai Lama’s official residence, and home to several Buddhist monasteries and thousands of Tibetan refugees.  We got a taste of mini Tibet here.  The shrine of Budhha was very majestic and peaceful. (Source-internet)

pics. from internet

Reincarnation

Yogi
Yogi was used to fending for himself.  He was a very quiet child for all of his six years.  He had bright shining eyes, large forehead, high cheekbones and aquiline nose.  His lips were less than full but not thin and when he smiled everyone got mesmerized.  He had that tranquil quality to his persona.  He was largely left alone.
 
 
Yogi loved to go into the wilderness.  It was an easy access from the back of the house.  He loved the forest and was not afraid of anything.  For hours he would sit on a fallen tree branch and daydream.  The forest creatures too left him alone.  They knew a kindred spirit when they saw one.  The playful monkeys stilled in his presence.  The birds simply loved to be within his sphere soaking up his benign aura.  Their lively twitter hushed of its own volition.  The flowers perked up brightening when he was around.  The tree boughs would bend as though in reverence.  They recognized an ancient soul.  They knew.
Yogi was a loner and his cousins only sought him out when they wished to play chess.  He was a born chess player.  No one had beaten him yet in that household, elders included.  Yogi never showed off, just made his moves effortlessly.  He simply knew.  It was uncanny. 

 
***   ***    ***

 

Sheila
 
Sheila was Yogi’s mother and a widow.  She was very attractive and still retained her perfect form and lovely voice.  The only thing that had changed was her bubbly happy go lucky spirit.  She had now become more quiet and pensive.  She had gotten married to an army officer of her parent’s choice and had been relatively happy.  Her heart however belonged to her childhood sweetheart Amar Pundit and she had always thought they would get married one day.  But as fate would have it Amar died in a freak road accident and Sheila was inconsolable.  She almost lost her mind in grief.  The family out of concern quickly got her married to a family friend’s son who adored Sheila.  Yogi was born soon after.  He had been fathered by Amar but only Sheila knew about it.  India was at war with Pakistan and as luck would have it; her husband was killed in the very first sortie.  Sheila returned to her parent’s home carrying her infant son.  She did not wish to get remarried or leave her home ever again.  The family had a huge barnyard of a house and Sheila was welcome to stay.  She was the only sister to four older brothers and they all loved her.
Sheila decided to hone her singing skills.  She approached the revered Pandit Jairaj of the famous Hindustani gharana.  The guruji put her through her paces and reasonably appeased, accepted her as a student.  Guruji was a very hard taskmaster but Sheila did not shirk and won over the guruji in a short time. 

Pandit Jairaj was often invited to sing at prestigious events and often he invited Sheila along.  Occasionally he even let her give solo performances.  Thus gradually Sheila gained self confidence and then after three years, she decided to strike out on her own with her guru’s blessing.   Sheila loved to experiment and loved fusing old with the new.  Her first solo disc was sent to the local radio station and soon it caught the fancy of the young and old alike.  Her compact disc (cd) became a hit.  Sheila has arrived.  Subsequently she made several new cds with her own brand of fusion music and lyrics and they sold well as she had become known by then.  She even gave solo concerts.  Thus Sheila became financially independent and well able to care for Yogi and herself.  But she loved her old home and never left it.  Banaras had a strong hold on her.  She belonged.
 
***   ***   ***

Amar
 
Amar Pundit’s lineage was a veritable who’s who amongst the learned savants and sages of Banaras.  His family was very orthodox and traditional and conversant in all the holy texts and Vedas.  Amar was the second son and hence when he strayed from the family fold, there wasn’t much opposition.  He wanted to be an astronaut and was pursuing his career accordingly.  Sheila and he were school friends and had gravitated towards one another from day one.  Opposites attract as they say.  Amar was the quiet one and Sheila was the chatterbox.  Amar loved chess, Sheila loved tennis. Amar loved the library, Sheila loved the movies.  Thus each one gained from the other.  Amar however was extremely good looking and had a strong lithe body.  He loved to do yoga first thing in the morning.  He was in perfect shape and swam life a fish.  He had great discipline and strength of mind.  Sheila’s family loved him like a son.  Often they would be seen on the roof of the house where Amar would point out all the constellations and then point out to that one particular star which he said belonged to only the two of them.  Laughingly he would say, once he became an astronaut, he would take her there.  He was crazy about astronomy and dreamed of visiting faraway galaxies and planets.
 
***   ***   ***
 
As far back as he could recall Amar had that same recurring dream.  He would find himself prostrate before a huge gold Buddha statue in a subterranean cave in a remote mountain.  Ancient Tibetan chants washed over him and he seemed to be mouthing the same with fervor.   All he’d recall upon waking up was that he felt energized and at peace after this dream.  In his spare time, he took to researching Buddhist texts to find an answer.   Often in his dreams, he also saw his head in the cosmos and the planets and stars rotating and revolving around him!  He would awake all shook up and perplexed after this particular dream.
 
****   ***   ****

The Monk

To free my mind
I sit to unwind
Detached from tree
A mere leaf I be
Can hold neither them nor me
Time and tide I ever be
Stilling mind I sit still
Lotus pose daily drill
Mind’s activity to abate
Ever wiping its slate
Detached thoughtless
Purposeless- nirvana
To free mind
I sit to unwind
A monk I be!

When meditation is mastered, the mind is unwavering
 Like the flame of a lamp in a windless place.
Bhagavad-Gita Gita
***   ****   ***

The Monk

 
The head monk Tenzin Rinchen who was the senior most amongst the yellow hat sect was dying.  All the senior monks had been summoned to pay their last respects and get final instructions.  There were five of them in all and now they had to follow old traditions and after suitable visions and divination, they would find the home where the head monk had reincarnated.
 
***   ***  ***
 
The lake was like a blue turquoise studded in the pristine Himalayas.  The monks gathered early in the morning mists.  They chanted the sacred prayers paying obeisance to invoke the Goddess Kali of the lake.  Finally after exact one hundred eight minutes the Goddess appeared on the surface of the lake and pointed towards the foothills and Ganges valley- there seemed to appear a glowing light in the sky showing the direction they should take.  Quickly they noted the latitude and longitude and the constellations and after final prayer, they headed back to the cave.  There they collected the sacred relics and some personal objects belonging to the venerable yellow hat and began their quest.

Two of the monks Yongten and Tsewang  were sent on this mission and the other three stayed back to prepare for the anointment of the reincarnated one.  They had many secret ceremonies to perform.
 
***   ***   ***
 
Yongten and Tsewang got up early in the morning to take a dip in the holy lake and ask for blessing from Goddess Kali.  Then they were on their way following the direction of the holy light as was manifested by Kali.  They carried with them a sacred lamp.  When the glow was strong they knew they were on the right track but if the lamp’s glow weakened, and then they knew they had to turn back.  This was their compass of faith.  They lived off the fruits in the forest and if some kindly villager invited them over they accepted their invitations.  This gave them an opportunity to know about the village and its people.  They usually turned their conversation to children with uncommon abilities and grace.  So far they had struck out.  They did not lose heart but pressed on.  Soon they entered the forest leading to the city of Banaras.

***   ****   ***
 
Yogi was seated on a tree branch and as usual was in deep reverie.  Some ancient chants and Sanskrit slokas continuously played in his head.  Of its own volition, he started writing these in the dirt in front of his feet and then suddenly he wrote the letters Y and T.
He came to and looked at what he had written but was mystified.  He had no clue.  But he was aware that something momentous was about to take place which would change his life forever.  His inner spirit was beckoning the two monks Yongten and Tsewang. 
 

***   ***   ***
 
Yogi’s mother Sheila was having strange dreams.  She saw Yogi dressed in flowing saffron robe with tonsured head seated on a high dais.  People were prostrated before him and were chanting ancient hymns.  She too found herself bowing to her son!  She was confused.  How? What? Why?  She knew in her guts that her son was different and his destiny was preordained.  Only she did not know when that would happen.  She also felt pangs of separation from him which she quelled fiercely.  She bided time nevertheless.
 
***   ***   ***
 
Yongsten and Tsewang lighted their lamp to determine if they were on the right track.  The lamp glowed brightly.  They were reassured.  Quickly they settled down for the night in the dilapidated hut they had come across in the forest.   They would leave early and head for the great city of Banaras.

***   ***   ***

Banaras*
Mystic Banaras city of Shiva and sanctity, resting on left bank of the holy river Ganga is the Hindu’s center for nirvana. It is believed here in Banaras Lord Shiva and his consort Parvati stood when time started ticking for the first time. A plethora of folklore is associated with this ancient city.  Varanasi has found place in the Buddhist scriptures as well as the great Hindu epic of Mahabharata.  ‘Kashi’ signifies that it is a ‘site of spiritual luminance.’  It is the city of the dead, the undead and rebirth.

***   ***  ***
Monks Yongten and Tsewang
The two monks resumed their quest through the forest.   Soon they experienced a subtle change in the air and in the flora and fauna.  This part had strong vibrations and the trees were greener and flowers brighter.  They knew they were headed in the right direction.  Their bent shoulders straightened and their gait gathered speed.  They felt rejuvenated.  They confirmed by lighting their special lamp and the flame was strong and steady.  They smiled satisfied.
At the edge of the forest they came across a sprawling house.  Involuntarily their eyes looked up and espied a young boy standing in the roof.  He was calm and looking towards them as though expecting them.  It appeared as though he had beckoned them here.  They were compelled to bow towards the child!  Gathering themselves they entered the courtyard. 

Yogi’s cousins surrounded the monks and as was customary invited them inside and ran to fetch the elders.  The monks were served with a simple repast and then everyone gathered to know about them.  They plied them with questions about where they were from and where were they headed.  The monks exchanged glances and then asked about the child on the roof.  Instantly everyone knew they were enquiring about Yogi.  Quickly the cousins ran to fetch Yogi and Sheila.
Sheila’s heart was pounding.  She felt it in her bones that something momentous was about to take place.  She felt bereft and elated.
With unhurried steps, Yogi descended the staircase and entered the living room.  He quietly sat down in front of the two monks with an impassive demeanor.  The monks seemed nonplussed at first.

Then they asked to speak with the boy’s parents.  Sheila came forward saying she was a widow.  Then the monks spoke about their quest and the passing away of their head monk and subsequent reincarnation.  They had come to fetch their master home.  They said they had been guided to this house and were certain the child Yogi was their master.
The whole family was wonderstruck except Sheila.  Then grudgingly they too felt that this statement felt just right.  Yogi had always seemed removed from them.  He belonged on a different plane altogether.  Then the monks in order to clinch this matter conducted the ancient tests as was customary.  Yogi passed all the tests without faltering for a second.   Yongten and Tsewang were satisfied.  The head monk Tenzin Rinchen had reincarnated as Yogi.
Now came the hard part.  They had to take the child away from his family.  Sheila felt all torn up inside.  Yet she knew that this was Yogi’s destiny.  He was destined for greater things in the service of humanity.
He was going home.

 
note:* Banaras aka Varanasi, Kashi info. and picture from internet

Hindustani gharana: particular style of singing

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