Fiction
The first
thing that greeted Govinda as he stepped out of home early in the morning was a
spider web which stood right at the entrance to his house. He had come out, as usual every morning, to
pick up the newspaper that the delivery man would throw into the yard from the
road.
The spider web
brought out the philosopher in Govinda.
His mind went on a contemplation trip.
Why did nature
create spiders? Just to make webs and
trap insects. Insects are created to be
trapped in spider webs. What a fate!
What a futile life! To eat and to
be eaten. And reproduce. How redundant are these creatures? Govinda wondered. How redundant is life itself by and large?
He thought of
people. Most people meant nothing to him:
like the passengers who travelled in the same compartment in a metro train, for
example. They just jostle us along: into
the compartment at one station and then out of it at another. And then we go
on. Jostling. The jostling becomes more personal at the
workplace. More intimidating. Like the spider and the insects. The boss and the staff. Among the staff, there are those who are close
to the boss on the one side and those who don’t know how to get close on the
other. Jostle becomes hassle. The push
eventually comes to shove and the spiders win.
Govinda had
once asked Karunasagar Guru about the futility of such a life. “Life is an illusion,” explained the Guru. “The result of our karma. The self is the only reality and it is one
with the infinite. Aham Brahmasmi. Those who don’t attain that level of realisation
are destined to be reborn. As spiders,
insects, anything according to their karma.”
“But spiders
eventually win, don’t they?” Govinda asked.
“When spiders
are themselves illusions, maya, what does victory mean?” answered the
Guru. “Maybe, such victories necessitate
the incarnation of God to put an end to the mounting evil. Sambhavami yuge yuge.”
Govinda never
liked that idea. Even those gods who
incarnated to put an end to evil were themselves deceptive and malicious. He could never justify many of the things
that Krishna, the god of Karunasagar Guru, did.
He perpetrated much duplicity during the Kurukshetra war.
“Bindaas!” Leslie Pereira would say. Leslie was a recent addition in Govinda’s
office. He loved music, wine
and women. In that order. “Never in excess,” he would warn, “unless you
want to be knocked out of the Brownian motion.”
Life is
nothing but the Brownian motion. That
was Leslie Pereira’s philosophy. Jostle and hassle. Push and shove. Some win and some lose. Naturally.
But the motion goes on.
Inexorably. Relentlessly. Without any purpose other than the fun in the
push and the shove.
Govinda was
awakened from his contemplation. The
newspaper was still lying in the yard.
He stood
before the spider web that stood between him and the newspaper. “Karma.
Brownian motion.” He muttered to
himself as he cut the anchor threads of the spider web.
The spider
became alert. It moved a little and then
stopped. Even the spider knows how far a
push can go to become a shove. It
retreated.
You write really interesting content. Lovely story. I can relate to it so much in my everyday life. Yes life moves on no matter what :)
ReplyDeleteThanks. Look forward to more of your presence here.
DeleteInterestingly, spiders and ants teach much to little kids. The last bit was a little cruel though - haven't heard before of Brownian motion before - guess that random events are not so gentle 🙂
ReplyDeleteThat last bit is not really cruel, Sunaina. The character does not kill the spider, he only cuts off the web which blocks his way. That's the 'way' of the world, isn't it?
DeleteRandom events are not at all gentle most often. One of my beloved writers, Albert Camus, saw the universe as hostile.
Cruel enough for me - cutting the path, blocking the way, killing the creation - way of the world yes, but not a good way really.....:)
Delete