Surrender

Surrender

The weather seemed dusky and dull, but then it wasn’t cluttered as his life. A few years ago, when he accepted the saffron robe and the rudraksha that ornamented his divinity, if only he knew these would get him tagged a ‘fraud’. Numerous offences and disgrace to his vocation. He never raised voice against any faith nor inspired communal resentment.  However his efforts to change the conduct of the society towards a better living were mistaken for godly enthuses.

And so he started living

Some labelled him as reincarnation of an ancient sage, whereas some termed him the son of Ganges, A few even Relied on him as their only faith and belief, the sole almighty. He silently wished he could bring a stop to this, certain yogic powers and Vedic knowledge could have portrayed him as a magician to many an innocent, but   then he could no more hold sway over what was happening around him.

That which was once a pure belief and practice had now been transformed into a sheer mode of earning money

It was not about providing shelters to the needy or donating to relief funds, it was about the money that flew in as a support from his believers, then it  couldn’t be charity alone. Ashrams extended to tourist homes, Clinics to specialty centers and schools to university.

A mind that was once lost in peace was now in search for the same.  Political alliances, international meetings , he had no more been a sadhu, he was then a baba, swami and what not for many a subjects.

Be it the wealthy politicians seeking blessings for a election victory or the cricketer seeking higher run rate, wealth flew into babas treasury and greed took over.

Today as he loosened the firm grip at his rudraksh japamala, sights of police vans and income tax cars could not  stand him longer.

A swindler..a fraud, he wasn’t a trickster, he related his life to the sad end it has to witness, he lived it all, the stories that he taught his subject, he story of King Midas whose touch  be gold, the story of pied piper whose tunes dissolved many a innocent people , and today the story of the their god, ends without a moral.. Empty and regretful

HE left lose the japamala , and searched through the golden robes in his wardrobe, many a accolades, many a gifts ,he had to SURRENDER it all..And beneath the red silk wrapped box of jewels and japamalas, therein he found his course to victory

His sole possession, and the next grip on the trigger,   the pigeons abode on the high dome of the ashram flew away in fright and so did him, God of many