and strength and finally killing him.
‘Ganesha suddenly saw his
favourite aunt, goddess Lakshmi. He waddled speedily to her side as she was offering
a tray of heavenly laddoos latticed with cardamom, roasted cashew nuts, ghee and
honey. Lakshmi had brought these back from the yearly ocean-of-consciousness holiday
that she and Vishnu had just been on. Ganesha took her blessings and began to pick
and eat the laddoos with the speed and skill of a juggling dancer, bringing
merriment to the gathering. Lakshmi was comforting those who had lost their health
and wealth at the hands of Ravana. She admired the humility and courage that some of
these devas showed in wanting to go down to earth as humans, animals, mountains,
herbs, in short anything, to restore safety and happiness to the world. But everyone
was waiting to hear the decision of the Greats.
‘Suddenly there was a big
Twaannngh!
It sounded like the plucking of a string
of a gigantic musical instrument. Everyone whirled around. A woman, one of
Lakshmi’s maids of honour, came running in, wailing and spluttering,
“How could he! Oh, whose face did I see this morning that such bad tidings
should be heard! Please, all you devas and devis, forgive me. I was only doing my
duty to my goddess Lakshmi by keeping trespassers out. And now, this … the
curse … what will we ever do …” and on and on she
wailed. Everyone whirled around again to see Lakshmi’s reaction. But she
wasn’t there. She had vanished.
‘On earth, in Ayodhya and all
across the kingdoms of Kosala, people talked for months on end about the Ashwamedha
that proclaimed Dasaratha King of Kings and about the fire sacrifice to the devas.
At the end of nine months there was another grand celebration to top the earlier
one. Dasaratha’s three wives gave birth to four sons. Kausalya gave birth
to Rama; Sumitra, who had twins, gave birth to Lakshmana and Shatrughana; and
Kaikeyi gave birth to Bharata.
‘Just as we live here, there
are other beings among us whom we cannot always see. They are not up there or down
here or below us, but sometimes we imagine they are. They enter our lives, they are
real and they challenge us and our convictions. It’s a game, but it is
also real. Finally, we have to work towards forgetting our little selves, while
protecting what is discovered as the secret to our happiness. The great test is in
finding a way that ushers in everyone else’s well-being and also gives us
happiness.
‘Imagine that!’
Valmiki paused. Urmilla and Lava were
enraptured by the story, each taking it at their level of comprehension. They were
completely unaware that someone was watching, waiting and listening.
It was none other than Soorpanakka. She
was Ravana’s sister. After his death she roamed across the earth, not
exactly mourning but seeing how people and values evolved after her
brother’s passing. As she happened to hear Valmiki mention Ravana in his
story, she was attracted by the power of her brother’s name and swiftly
inhabited a tree. Valmiki could sense a change in the atmosphere as a spirit now
occupied a tree not far behind him, so he chanted a mantra:
May we who listen to stories that
enchant our minds
Be ever wakeful to the shining, the glorious, the
Lotus-Eyed
Within us;
That It may shine undimmed.
Across all the
hills, forests, valleys and plains that our eyes can see
May our hearts
unfold the journey within.
May the ever-revolving disc of consciousness
splinter darkness with light
May words flow into the sound of the conch
shell
That emerges from the embryo of our being
Defining space around us
and within us to live in peace.
Shantih shantih shantih
It seemed to cast a spell like a veil
around the tree that Soorpanakka had inhabited. Entranced by his words, she began to
remember, and paused to reflect on her own encounter with Sita.
‘Life didn’t really
begin before noon
‘Ganesha suddenly saw his
favourite aunt, goddess Lakshmi. He waddled speedily to her side as she was offering
a tray of heavenly laddoos latticed with cardamom, roasted cashew nuts, ghee and
honey. Lakshmi had brought these back from the yearly ocean-of-consciousness holiday
that she and Vishnu had just been on. Ganesha took her blessings and began to pick
and eat the laddoos with the speed and skill of a juggling dancer, bringing
merriment to the gathering. Lakshmi was comforting those who had lost their health
and wealth at the hands of Ravana. She admired the humility and courage that some of
these devas showed in wanting to go down to earth as humans, animals, mountains,
herbs, in short anything, to restore safety and happiness to the world. But everyone
was waiting to hear the decision of the Greats.
‘Suddenly there was a big
Twaannngh!
It sounded like the plucking of a string
of a gigantic musical instrument. Everyone whirled around. A woman, one of
Lakshmi’s maids of honour, came running in, wailing and spluttering,
“How could he! Oh, whose face did I see this morning that such bad tidings
should be heard! Please, all you devas and devis, forgive me. I was only doing my
duty to my goddess Lakshmi by keeping trespassers out. And now, this … the
curse … what will we ever do …” and on and on she
wailed. Everyone whirled around again to see Lakshmi’s reaction. But she
wasn’t there. She had vanished.
‘On earth, in Ayodhya and all
across the kingdoms of Kosala, people talked for months on end about the Ashwamedha
that proclaimed Dasaratha King of Kings and about the fire sacrifice to the devas.
At the end of nine months there was another grand celebration to top the earlier
one. Dasaratha’s three wives gave birth to four sons. Kausalya gave birth
to Rama; Sumitra, who had twins, gave birth to Lakshmana and Shatrughana; and
Kaikeyi gave birth to Bharata.
‘Just as we live here, there
are other beings among us whom we cannot always see. They are not up there or down
here or below us, but sometimes we imagine they are. They enter our lives, they are
real and they challenge us and our convictions. It’s a game, but it is
also real. Finally, we have to work towards forgetting our little selves, while
protecting what is discovered as the secret to our happiness. The great test is in
finding a way that ushers in everyone else’s well-being and also gives us
happiness.
‘Imagine that!’
Valmiki paused. Urmilla and Lava were
enraptured by the story, each taking it at their level of comprehension. They were
completely unaware that someone was watching, waiting and listening.
It was none other than Soorpanakka. She
was Ravana’s sister. After his death she roamed across the earth, not
exactly mourning but seeing how people and values evolved after her
brother’s passing. As she happened to hear Valmiki mention Ravana in his
story, she was attracted by the power of her brother’s name and swiftly
inhabited a tree. Valmiki could sense a change in the atmosphere as a spirit now
occupied a tree not far behind him, so he chanted a mantra:
May we who listen to stories that
enchant our minds
Be ever wakeful to the shining, the glorious, the
Lotus-Eyed
Within us;
That It may shine undimmed.
Across all the
hills, forests, valleys and plains that our eyes can see
May our hearts
unfold the journey within.
May the ever-revolving disc of consciousness
splinter darkness with light
May words flow into the sound of the conch
shell
That emerges from the embryo of our being
Defining space around us
and within us to live in peace.
Shantih shantih shantih
It seemed to cast a spell like a veil
around the tree that Soorpanakka had inhabited. Entranced by his words, she began to
remember, and paused to reflect on her own encounter with Sita.
‘Life didn’t really
begin before noon
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