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
