It’s amusing to realize hitting it again and again and see the good old fizz. Even after a whopping month of march. Filled with fruits and five hours each day. I breathed for twenty days and one Saturday. And after that losing a lot of accumulated eye I am here in April. Thoughts change overnight. And so they might change again tomorrow, or the next second. So the change is the only common. So much of our time goes in finding the common for u To attach to that one thing or two. The seer, seen, and the sight. Advertisements
Who is observing the observer? Are you in front of the camera or behind the camera ? Or are you the camera ? Do you realize the change Changing? We walked up to the oldest virgin man. The sevak of shiva sitting on a hill humourously. His skin was divided into small numerous lines. Once wrinkles turned into scales made on a snakes skin. But when his touch was as soft as wool. We walked seven steps together and then he sat away from the sun. He only ate once in a day, three spoons of rice may be else it gets stuck in his throat and a lot of water has to be forced into to get the morsels reach stomach. He was the most beautiful thing. It is not that Kali Yuga is bad. But the people who are satya, truthful. Who are one and connected with themselves, the one universal truth, for them it is still the old Yuga working.
Slowly I have started smelling like fire. Ash comes over my head, my clothes, my legs are bereft of sole. Ice on head now seems a ritual. And fire a family. Is it because of this squirrels have started coming near. That bird in the morning quietness in the dark. Something will change. It is asking something and saying something unhearable. Hear hear. Close your eyes.
So it is Logar who starts beating the drum every night. But for sometime. May be he does it for mangla. Or may be to heat himself up. It is cold. There is wind. Neem tree under which we sleep made noise all night. The morning arrived before us even for me. It is never too hard to bathe with cold water, I have examined it several times like past two days. Next nine days and may be one more some magic is planned. When sun arrived we went in the field and started filling mud. We first put it in a copper plate and placed over it a snake near quartz and twelve other stones in the direction of the water. Maharaj went to the temple on the mountain. I and the guy whose dream is to mine a mountain started putting the clay like the nine planets roam. Even though energy is needed to pour in them vital breath but we shall see tomorrow when maharaj will wake up. Later we went around …
In the night a train came. In it was an engine sleeping under Maharaj. I went from bed to bed but to only get up after every enquiry. In the morning even before the sun rose Aravalis were seen passing. Winters seemed gone the moment I poured ground water on my head for. A mountain starts here from behind the ashram. Me and Maharaj went to the temple there and sang songs for two hours after we had food. I saw mangla while coming down and went near her to comb her stomach. During that time I learnt few new things about shukra and shiva, Shani and Vikramaditya. There is one Banayan, one neem, a library and enough blankets under the open sky. Rathore’s Kuladevi is Mata Nageahwari. Lights are out but logar is beating a drum. I love Mangla.
Sometimes one dip changes your smile and temperature. It takes you then to places that can only be created in dreams through memories ofcourse. You walk long looking at forms, colours, patterns, walls, speculating age, sounds of children and cows, of burning dead trees and water ripples, hearing bodies visually and later language. Sometimes a small reaction changes the whole tail of events. Sometimes the start was the only end. But the dip is important. Because that is the door to nature. And nature is within.