Da

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