Varanasi, the oldest living city
on earth, was his home. His mother told him that when he was born, she could
hear the bells of aarti 1 at Kashi Vishwanath Temple 2.
She never told him who his father was. When he pressed a lot, she told that she
will once and only once tell the name and that he should not dispute or
question the same. When he agreed, she told him that Kashi Vishwanath himself
was his father. For that moment, he neither doubted his father’s identity nor
felt his absence. He used to sit on the temple’s staircase everyday for a long
time. He felt that the only way to communicate with his father was to immerse
himself in the music created by ringing of bells and chanting of mantras. His
devotion was more than meditation since he was not worshipping a God, he was
just seeking refuge in his father. Years passed. Everybody knew him as son of
the God.
Let’s skip to the day when his
life was about to be changed. He followed his usual routine, took bath in Holy
Ganges and started walking towards the temple. Generally he used to walk with
his eyes fixed on the dome of the temple, but today he felt some uneasiness, as
if he was being given some indication. He stopped for a moment. Just when he
was about to start walking again, his eyes fell on an infant sleeping on a
staircase. He looked around to ascertain if the parents are nearby, but could
not find anyone. He kept standing beside the kid, not picking him up with the
fear of being charged as a kidnapper. He sat near the kid for the whole night
but nobody came to claim the kid. In the morning he decided to take the kid
home.
It had been twenty five years
from that incident now. His life in these twenty five years entirely changed. He
had raised the kid as his own. He never married for the fear of division of his
love. As it is he had to divide his devotion between his father and his son. He
never let his son know that he was son of the God. He lived as a commoner, a
daily wager and worked hard to meet their ends. He worked even harder for
getting his son an education. The harder he worked, the more his health
deteriorated. Not a single day went, when he did not long for meeting or
speaking with his father like he used to do earlier. At the same time, not a
moment passed which did not revolve around his son.
He was back to the stairs one day
- The stairs where he found his son; the stairs from where he could directly
look at the temple and speak with his father. He was wrapped in a blanket. He did
not move. He could not move. After 2-3 days, people at the temple recognised
him. They got very upset at his condition. They were angry at his son for whom
he had done so much but was still left for dying on the stairs. Some of them
reached his home to meet his son. After continued knocking and getting no
response, they had to come back to the temple. While they were discussing the
matter, one of them noticed that there was another figure wrapped in a blanket
sitting in a dark corner. They went near him and recognised him as the son.
They could not understand what was happening and asked the son why he left his
father for dying the on stairs and while his father was at it, why was he
sitting and watching him.
“He wanted to die in lap of his
father, at a place where he himself was born as a father. As a son, I seek to
ensure that my father’s death is peaceful. As a father, I seek to free him from
the cycle of life and death” He said.
That very moment, a bell rang in the
temple. They looked at the temple. It took them a moment to understand what the
son had said.
A moment was all what was needed for the father and the son to be
together for eternity.
1 Hindu
religious ritual of worship
2 Hindu temples dedicated to Lord Shiva
and is located in Varanasi
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