Short Story
“The
threefold offspring of Prajapati, gods, men and demons lived with their father
Prajapati as students of sacred knowledge.
Having completed their studentship the gods said, ‘Please instruct us,
sir.’ To them he uttered the syllable da.”
Baba
closed the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad from which he was reading and looked at his
listeners. Thousands of faces were
eagerly looking at him. He was the
source of their truths. Their
peace. The very meaning of their
existence.
“I’m
going to speak to you today about the meaning that the men, demons and gods
found in da,” Baba started his
sermon.
Men
interpreted da as datta, give. Baba preached about the vice of greed that had
entered the hearts of people. It is a
cancer, said Baba, eating up our hearts.
Nobody wants to give
anything. All are out to grab. We have become a grabbing civilisation…
The
sermon on datta went on for an hour
after which Baba retired to his air-conditioned office for an interval. His manager was summoned.
“What
are you doing to get the school shut down?” Baba asked.
“I
have increased the workload of the teachers to 17 hours a day,” said the
Manager. “They are asked to go to the hostels
at 5.30 in the morning to wake up the students, and then take normal classes
till 2 in the afternoon after which they will look after the studies in the
hostel, games in the fields, again studies in the hostels till 10.30 in the
night.”
Vidya
Devi Residential School had a 20-acre campus.
Baba had already bought up the entire land of about 1000 acres all
around the school. The school remained
an eyesore in the middle of his empire.
Finally
he managed to convince the owner of the school, who was his devotee too, to
donate the school to him.
The
first thing that his Manager did on acquiring the school was to dismiss every
employee who was on temporary appointment or probation. The next thing was to change the colour of
the buildings and walls. Sooner than
later the campus underwent a total metamorphosis. It’s not just the colours that changed. Tempers did.
Attitudes did. People changed
their colours. Like miracles. Miracles are an integral part of every
religion whatever the colour.
“Yes,
break them with work,” said Baba. “The
students are leaving faster than we imagined.
It’s the staff that remain a pain you know where.”
A
fart escaped the Baba’s derriere.
“It’s
time for the next sermon,” the Manager reminded Baba.
“Ha,
yes.” The second meaning of da was dayadhvam, be compassionate. The demons had
given that meaning. Baba was going to
preach...
Note: This is a work of fiction. No character is intended to resemble any real person, dead or alive. If any resemblance is found by anyone, it is sheer coincidence
Interesting twist in the tale !
ReplyDeleteI'd have loved a life without such a "twist". :)
DeleteEnjoyed it! You have a unique style of writing.
ReplyDeleteThis uniqueness has got me into a whole lot of hell, Malini. But I love the whole affair called life anyway :)
DeleteThoroughly enjoyed the post , good one Matheikal :)
ReplyDeleteThanks Alka
DeleteAs far as I see it, you are on a mission ...
ReplyDeleteRE
Wish me success, Raghuram.
DeleteYou have singularly unveiled the 'da' of the demons. But I guess he'd merrily fart his way to his desires.
ReplyDeleteIndeed, Uma. Some people are incredibly wicked! They look incredible even in fiction.
DeleteFact is stranger than fiction ... the demons and the devils are real, not the gods. :)
ReplyDeleteTrue, fiction may look mere fabrication of the writer's imagination...
Deletewhat a twist
ReplyDeleteWhat appears solemn may turn out to be ridiculous!
DeleteI read in the news an actor was quoting babas to be the biggest con man. Interesting tale and has a lot to reality to it. Many will find resemblance.
ReplyDeleteReligion is merely a business, Saru. A very profitable one too.
DeleteI don't know why I remain a climber still. You are really a banyan tree sir. Not baba of course.
ReplyDeletedawn
I will never be a baba. Life offers me much entertainment without donning that garb.
Delete