Does it matter, thought the ashes? I have been dead for so long. 60 years isn’t it? The million specks asked themselves and didn’t even bother to answer. Long, in fact, all of them agreed.
I have been here, in darkness. Why was I kept and why am I being set free? Am I being set free? Well, I can’t do much, can I? I shall stay where they put me and go where they send me. Air, water, muck everything’s the same for me.
But inspite of these and many more suspicions and apprehensions, the ashes woke up; ready for the final journey. No bath or towel, just stay put, it advised itself. As the morning gave birth, birds could be heard. Some unfamiliar sounds and some completely new. But I remember all of them. From tomorrow I will not be able to hear any of them. So long, my friends, the ashes said, silently and wondered if anybody hears anything silent? A little while later, footsteps could be heard. The light was switched on in the room and more than usual activity could be thinly guessed. What is going to happen?
Incense. Can’t they stick to the old ones? These smell synthetic; are they? Too many questions, old man, came the internal rebuke. O.K let me sail through today and then…
These footsteps are different, small…ah some kids have been marshaled. Will they sing songs?
Noises, more noises, who are these people? Some noises I know. Do they still love me or is it all? Why are you so suspicious, Gandhi’s ashes asked Gandhi? Just relax. You are dead, gone and they are laying to rest your last remnants. Be happy, you can sleep peacefully from today. You will take less space on earth. Lesser people will remember you, exploit you and your belongings and life…well, it will move on.
O.k from now on silence, vowed Gandhi.
Garlands…their smell mixing with the incense. Feet. Phones, so many ring tones. Murmurs. Bhajans. That little girl has a good voice. Dignitaries I think by the tone. Now what? I am being lifted. Is this my last day here? These walls, curtains, Mani Bhavan, my friends, I will miss you all, always.
Ah, the sun. So the journey begins again. Are there many people? Traffic and horns, too many horns. Am I on a hearse, again? Am I blocking traffic? the horns must be for a reason. Do they know that I am going forever today? Move on old man.
I hear the waves. Is it Girgaum? Must have changed in these years. I am enjoying this in fact. Why this silence?
Oh the sun stings. Haven’t seen rays in 60 years. Thanks for opening me up to the radiance. I love it. I thank you all.
The water looks dirty. Those days…they are gone, it’s o.k.
Water is cold. I am traveling. Where will this lead me? Ah, it’s the deep end of the ocean. Fishes. Beautiful.
No comments:
Post a Comment