Back To Bliss: A Journey To Zero by Santosh Jha (pdf e book reader TXT) 📕

stupidity. The new is fast replacing the old and established Indian morality and identities are in for a toss. Where and which way things will finally settle is open only to guess. Media, especially the print media is in for a historical role of being the smart moderator of all these changes to ensure future generations are handed over a new India which has the ideal amalgam of the best of both tradition and modernity.

The human resource we have in our media is completely out of sync with times and badly misfit for the historical role they are entrusted with. Our team needs complete overhaul. Naturally, the renaissance in human resource will necessitate top level changes. I know that would not be easy. There will also be need of continuous training of journalists and that will be more difficult as journalists today have no other possession but their inflated egos. And, despite that, they are still pampered.

Somebody said, ‘I have heard that life in love is difficult...better it is that we do something easy’. We may also say the same. When quality is so difficult a proposition, why not do something easy! But then, love is what humans should always be in; life without love is a long road to drudgery. Quality and excellence is what media should always be identified with; so is our historical duty!

I insist, creativity should not be decided by necessity but by reason. What I propose may not seem necessary to you, at least at this point of time but this is what reason beckons us to do.

It is always said, ‘morning starts when you wake up’. This is immaculate artistry of the hypocrite. Morning always starts at an appointed time, we sleep or are awake is our sole discretion. The bigger reality is; the day also ends at the fixed time, whenever we wake up in the morning!

Yours sincerely,

Mayank Mishra.

**

CHAPTER 10

They finally met. Mayank had to postpone his proposed encounter with her earlier. Sunday was usually a working day for him and he narrated all past event chain to her to explain why he was free even on Sunday and had suddenly landed at her flat to be with her. He was expecting some trouble but not what came his way.

“This is not fair...you cheated me…”, she said smiling. “I had planned to leave my job this month and you grabbed the joy for yourself first. Selfishness…utter opportunism!”

He smiled and asked, “Why would you quit?”

“You remember, once you had told me something about non-violence. You had said that non-violence essentially had to be ingrained in thought and violence of action would automatically get checked.”

“Yes, you are right. Violence of action is only a miniscule proportion of the overall human violence as violence of thought fills up the major part. That is why I said, violence should be checked in its inception itself and non-violence of thought does it quite well.”

“Exactly...and then you had added that the best way to ensure non-violence of thought is to be physically out of the place and environment where you feel your true personality is not at peace.”

Yes, I had said that but if you are strong enough, you do not need to be physically out; just moving mentally away from the place can do.”

“I have in mind the same thing and so, I want to quit.”

“Is there no way out?”

“Does not look like...you know; stupidity is a highly contagious disease and there is only prevention, no cure for it. Keep safe and sufficient distance from stupid is the only way out to avoid being inflicted with the dreaded disease called stupidity.”

“But you also have to be sure there is a real threat of the disease lurking on the head. Most of the times, there is a panic reaction and that makes even an innocuous threat look bigger. Usually, primary stage stupidity, like most communicable diseases can be quarantined to prevent its spread.”

“May be; but I also had something more important in my mind.”

“And what is that?”

“I will tell you later. Let us not talk about it. Mine would happen but yours has already happened. What made you quit?”

“We have the whole of evening and night; I will tell you everything but not right now.”

“Then let us sleep together”, she exclaimed in joy, reverting to her usual baby-disposition, wrapping her around him.

“Nobody is sleeping tonight”, he said in serious tone. “We have things to talk.”

“But I want to sleep with you”, she complained like a kid.

“I make coffee for you; it will douse your sleep.”

“I don’t want coffee...I want you”, she said sulking.

He gave her a resolute look; pulled her close, made her ride his back and entered the kitchen to make coffee. She remained tightly tied to his back all the while he made coffee and acted as if she was fast asleep. He softly dumped her on the sofa and placed the cups on the table in front. She continued to feign sleep as he sipped his coffee alone.

“Once upon a time, there was a king”, Mayank said without looking at her as she continued to remain motionless on the sofa. “The king had only a daughter and she was famous for her beauty in all neighborhood kingdoms. The young princess was not only beautiful but also a very good-hearted lady whom everyone loved. Once, she was in the royal orchards playing with flowers, birds and small animals who all enjoyed her company. The day progressed and when she slept on the grass-bed under a tree, she could not remember. Incidentally, the devil of the jungle passed by her and out of jealousy, he decided to play a trick with her. He stole the expression of the princess. She returned to the palace with an expressionless face and mannerisms. She looked like a statue. She did not smile, showed no emotions and did everything quite mechanically. The king got to know of the developments and called the doctors. Later, magicians, tricksters, clowns, saints and every type of experts were called but nobody could help. The panicky king tried to marry her off expecting some change after marriage but all the princes who came after getting the invitation refused to marry her. Nobody wanted a wife who was literally a statue. The king was sad and the entire kingdom was doomed.”

He paused for a while as he realized that she had shuffled her position on the sofa. He continued, “One day, a tantric came to the palace seeking alms. He asked the king what was wrong as the king looked in poor health. The king narrated his woes. The tantric urged the king to take him to the royal orchard. The tantric immediately understood what had happened and he used his power to invoke the devil of the woods. The devil appeared and the king fell on his feet imploring him to forgive his daughter. The devil relented but put a condition. He said he would take back his curse and the princess would come back to her normal self but in return he would take away something from her. The king happily asked what he would like to take away as he was ready to even give him the entire kingdom for her daughter’s smile. The devil said he would take away her beauty and give back her expressions. The king was shocked. He was very proud of her daughter’s beauty and could not imagine how she would react if her beauty is taken away. The devil was adamant and the king was very unsure what he should do. The devil gave the king a day’s time to decide and disappeared. The devil also warned the king that if he shared what had happened there with anyone else, he would be dead.”

She had opened her eyes and had started sipping coffee, listening carefully what he was saying. She looked anxious and quite interested in the story.

“So, what the king decided? What happened to the princess?”

Mayank did not reply. He picked up the empty cups and took them to the kitchen. She followed him there. Mayank washed the cups silently, put them in place and entered the bed room while she followed him. He stretched himself on the bed facing her. She waited for him to resume the story but he kept quite.

After a while, she moved out of the room, checked the main door to ensure it was properly locked, put off lights of all the rooms. It was already dark outside. She switched off her mobile phone and sneaked into the bathroom.

He felt overwhelmed by a sudden touch of silk and sandal. She was on top of him; her body still moist and cool. Drops of fragrant water from her wet hair lashed his face as she kissed him softly on the lips.

“Sorry”, she kept her lips locked with him and said.

It was dark. Her long black tresses covering his face anyway made him blind to any reality outside! ….Love and total intimacy is so complete, so absolute. When love comes your way, you do not want more of it; you just want the infinity of it. Love is so fulfilling, so perfect that you cannot want more of it...there cannot be more of it as love does not come in half measures. You do not even want to be a lover; you just desire that you become love itself, dissolve your being into it to become it and not do it. A strange idea revisited him whenever he realized he ceased to be a lover and become love itself. He wished to die the moment he turned the love. He did not want an identity other than love and wished he died that moment so that he could enter the eternity of love. Only love made death beautiful and acceptable…. The darkness was perfect. His identity, her personality and the sorry were all dissolved into the darkness. The whole universe, the realism and the being-ness, all melted into love.

She showered a hundred kisses on him. The weight of the mass of physicality of intimacy brought back the connect with the actual world to him. He for a moment thought, ‘love is so consummate and ultimate; does it leave any space for anything more? Why does he want to add more to it? Why he insists to make personality changes in her? Why would he risk giving shape to the formlessness of love? Will he be able to control the eventuality? What if he actually loses love in an attempt to make it more meaningful?’ That’s why he was there; to find answers.

He kissed her back, hugged her tightly till she let out a sigh. He was sure, if he had to make her listen to what he had decided to tell her, he had to do it with overdose of intimacy. She needed to be highly emotionally secure if he wanted her to accept changes in her. She felt the confidence after a while and repeated her question:

“Won’t you tell me what the king decided about the princess and what happened to her finally?”

“The story has no specific end. It is just a possibility; like life. What the king will choose the princess’ fate would depend on and the story will end that way. And this is life; the predicament, the conflict and the discretion. Anyone can be in the king’s place. And there can be people like the princess; none of her fault but she had to be at the center of all tribulations of life.”

“But the king should know what is best for the princess; after all he is a father and a king too. On his prudence and right discretion depends the fortunes of millions of citizens of his kingdom! If fathers ain’t good enough to protect the best interests of their daughters, it is truly tragic.”

“You should consider the fact that all good people may not take all right decisions. An important decision is usually taken