Fiction
Guru had been
sitting in meditation on the hillock for as long as he could ward off the
hunger that was humming in his belly. By
the time the hunger became a fire in the belly, Guru had reached enlightenment.
“It was about
four and a half hours that I sat there in deep meditation,” Guru declared to
the devotees who had assembled at his ashram by the time he had finished his
meal. Perverts and antinationals spread
the rumour that Guru’s chelas had
paid in hard cash to bring in so many people as devotees. They were the days when the Prime Minister
had shoved all hard cash into the trash bin with one 8 pm television address to
the nation.
“Up to that
moment,” Guru went on, “that moment of my enlightenment, I always thought that
this is me and that is somebody else or something else. At that moment, however, I did not know which
is me and which is somebody else or something else. Suddenly, what was me was all over the
place. The very rock on which I was sitting,
the oxygen I breathed, the very ecosystem around me, I had just exploded into
everything.”
Perverts and
antinationals said that the guy’s business had gone bust and his wife’s father
had refused to pay more dowry. So he
exploded.
The explosion
was a Big Bang. It gave birth to a whole
universe with Guru at the centre.
Planets and satellites formed soon and started revolving round
Guru.
Miracles
occurred once in a while. The greatest
miracle was the Mahasamadhi of Guru’s wife, Kalyani.
“On the 13th
of next month,” Guru prophesied, “when three planets will form a cluster
centred on the 13th degree of Aquarius, joined by the Sun with the
Full Moon opposite them all, Kalyani will achieve her Mahasamadhi. It is the most auspicious day for
Mahasamadhi. The great sages of the past
chose this day for their Samadhi....”
Perverts and
antinationals spread the rumour that Guru had murdered his wife.
The devotees
beat their drums. The drum beats
resounded above all other noises. The
drum beats became the music of the spheres in the ashram. The music enticed. The music bewitched. Guru claimed that he was the music.
The heavens
were pleased. They poured down showers
through the holes in the ozone layer.
PS. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to anybody
else or anything else is a figment of the reader’s imagination.
The guru created ozone layer through those hard cash, shouted the pervs and the anti nationals!?
ReplyDeleteOur contemporary gurus create holes, not ozone 😀
DeleteYes yes. The multiple holes :)
Delete