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A Crucifixion

Fiction

“Aren’t you going to see the crucifixion?”  Tobit heard his neighbour, Jeremi, ask. 

A man called Jesus was going to be crucified along with two thieves.  Every crucifixion is an entertainment for these people who are burdened with the agony of existence.  Caesar and his men impose all sorts of taxes whenever they need money.  The priests in the temple keep giving rules just to make sure that no one ever rises above their control.  Taxes and rules.  What else was the lot of the common man?  The sweat of his brow.  That was God’s gift to them from the time He created Adam and Eve.  Taxes, rules and sweat.  A crucifixion was good entertainment whenever it came. 

But Tobit was not happy.  He knew Jesus.  He knew him from the time he was a tiny baby brought to the temple for the ritual dedication.  Simeon, the holy man, was present in the temple that day.  Tobit was there because he wished to seek the blessings of Simeon. 

Simeon took Jesus from Mary’s hands and said, “This child is going to mark the rise and the fall of many in Israel.”  He raised his eyes to the heavens and uttered a silent prayer.  Then, giving the child back to Mary, he said looking into her eyes sadly, “A sword will pierce your heart.”

Tobit’s heart trembled in his breast.  Evil forebodings rose in his heart churning his core.   He went out to vomit.

Tobit was just another ordinary carpenter.  A man who learnt the job from Joseph, Jesus’ father.  Otherwise he would have taken little interest in what Jesus said and did.  In whatever happened to him.  There was nothing new about people coming and proclaiming the end of the world.  His people, the Jews, were used to prophets of all sorts.  Those who warned them.  Those who cursed them.  Those who wept over them.  Some of them gave more commandments.  Not one prophet was ever happy with the world.  Not with the world of Yahweh’s chosen race, at any rate.  Tobit longed to see one smiling prophet.  A prophet who could teach the people to smile.  Who could tell them that life was not such a pain in the ass as made out to be by the prophets and other men of religion. 

Then came Jesus.  He smiled.  He tried to, at least.  Little children made him smile.  And he asked the people to be like the little children.  How absurd!  But no one can be a prophet, a man of God, without being absurd.  Tobit knew that though he was only a carpenter. 

Tobit also knew that Jesus was hurling himself headlong into a whirlpool of troubles.  Because Jesus was challenging the priests.  He challenged the law.  What is Judaism without its countless laws? 

“Man is not made for laws,” Jesus proclaimed rankling the blood in the veins of the priests.  “The one among you who has not broken any law so far, let him cast the first stone at her.”  Jesus said to the multitude that waited eagerly for their occasional entertainment of stoning a woman to death. 

He stole the law from the people.  He stole their entertainment.

He was thus a thief.  Law-thief.  Entertainment-thief. 

He promised them smiles.  But they wanted guffaws. 

The legislator washed his hands and said, “I want no share in the blood of this just person.”  He had better entertainments. 

“Crucify him!  Crucify him!” the multitude shouted eagerly.  Their hunger for entertainment had turned into impatience. 

“No, I don’t want to see it,” Tobit said to Jeremi.

A sword pierced Tobit’s heart.  A smile was dying on Golgotha.  Darkness was spreading across the sky. 

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Comments

  1. wingsNovember 14, 2015 at 10:56 AM

    I just read the blog on my smartphone. Then came a whatsapp message from the writer of this blog and was little embarrassed to know that some message from my side would put him in some sort of inconvenience of laughing out in a public place.
    I told him in my whatsapp message: ...thought you are at home because you posted a blog at 9.22 am'

    Now on a second thought, I felt I should have told him thus: Oh my god! Just at 9.22 am Jeremi killed you; and your people and I.....!
    Something like what Antony says to a throng of Romans when Caesar died!
    (In lighter vein...but the story is a parable for all ages.)
    I shut my mouth for appreciation :(
    I know I will always be speechless after reading your blogs.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Tomichan MatheikalNovember 14, 2015 at 12:43 PM

      I'm getting used to the "infinite deaths" mentioned in my story 'Motion without Displacement" which also you liked. If my stories leave you speechless, I have reasons to feel fulfilled as a writer. A few minutes back I received another whatsapp message that my writing is at times too "mystical". I don't mean them to be. I wanted my writing to be always simple, easy for anyone to understand. But life teaches us such lessons that simplicity is stolen from our hearts. Perhaps my current habitat may turn out to be curative. It's a much 'simpler' place in comparison with Delhi.

      Delete
  2. Titas BiswasNovember 14, 2015 at 8:48 PM

    At this time,in a very long time,I read something that could give thoughts a form,a real form.WOW.

    ReplyDelete

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