Jewel-less Crown: Saga of Life by BS Murthy (classic books for 12 year olds .TXT) 📕

of their class? Whither the public morality! The society seems hooked to Mammon, doesn’t it? How life itself has become a punishment to the decent! Oh, what life has come to be, but yet it goes on and that’s life.'

‘What justice, or whatever is left of it, would serve the ends of justice in this multifaceted crime,’ she thought as she reached for the pad to write the judgment. ‘After all, wasn’t Suresh’s criminality more a product of his perverse psyche than that of his innate nature? If he were to be given the rope, how would he ever have the chance to discover his true self? Is it the spirit of life that one should die in a state that is not his true self! If, the meaning of life is fruition of the soul, the ultimate penalty seems contrary to the rationale of life and the wisdom of the Creator. How am I to know what role God had ordained for Suresh in his latter-day life? After all, he is so young and thus changeable. So, it seems fair that he survives the noose and serves out the sentence.’

When Gautam heard the judgment, he heaved a sigh of relief, and thanked God for saving his son’s life. Reconciled as Suresh was to the noose, the reprieve seemed to have infused in him a sense of purpose of its own. Seeing the impact of her verdict on the father and the son, Justice Sumitra felt vindicated about her belief in the glory of life. But, Mehrotra took it as another feather in his cap.

The judgment day of his son turned out to be a day of reckoning for Gautam.

‘Oh God, what a hell it has been!’ he thought in perplexity. ‘How scared I was for Suresh’s life! Now that he will live, what can life mean to me anymore! It means precious little, so it seems. Why, hasn’t it become burdensome already? Though vacuous, life was still a make-believe in the past. How the aura of success camouflaged my jewel-less crown from public view! Who knew what a burden that was on my guilty head? And Sneha chose to damn me further with a garland of guilt. At least, Justice Sumitra spared my conscience from further burden. That’s the only saving grace of my sordid life. May God bless her for that! Wouldn’t have I dropped dead much before Suresh was put on the death row? And what’s the point in my living anymore? Why not I join Sneha in death, to make a fresh beginning?

‘But, who had seen life after death?’ he thought as he turned skeptic. ‘What’s heaven but hearsay? Won’t the benedictions therein seem make-believe? The Hindu swarga, the Christian salvation and the Islamic hereafter, are they really real? Had anyone called back to earth from those summits of faith? And without a body how does the soul enjoy the earthly pleasures of the religious heavens? How naive is man in envisioning heaven! If the swarga is not make-believe, won’t Sneha join the company of the pativratas, in wait for their husbands they had left behind? But, having sinned so much here, would I gain admission there? Well, if hell were to be my destiny, why not make the best of the rest of my life here itself? It looks sensible.’

The thought of hell made him wonder about the reality of the religions.

‘The theme of faith is the hope of man, and its hold on him is the fear of his,’ he began dwelling into the working of the religions. ‘Is there no God then? Oh, for all that, there could be One, but may not be as the faiths portray Him. What are the religions, if not the perceptions of their founders preached in divine terms? Did God ever introduce someone as His son and another as His messenger to His people? Won’t some of the religious precepts sound so absurd! Oh, how religions deprive man of his reason and make fools out of the followers!’

‘Am I not better off, not being a believer, after all?’ he seemed to even feel relieved. ‘If not, I would have been a fool twice over, bending before Mammon and God as well. Now, wisdom lies in starting life afresh. Why not I give up all and embrace sanyas? Maybe that would bring solace to my soul. Won’t I need the guidance of a guru and the precincts of an ashram for that? What about setting aside something sufficient for Suresh and donate the rest to that ashram? It’s well that I go back to my roots. And sooner than later, someone would take my role on the grand stage of Delhi. Hopefully, my garland of guilt too might wither away in the warmer climes of the South.’ 

 

Book Two: Dharma ‘n Moksha

 

Episode 1

Bliss of Being

 

 

Gautam’s search for a guru ended in Annavaram. When he reached Vanaprastham there, he was disappointed to learn that Sripada Swami, the seer of the ashram, was in mauna vratam. And the ashramites advised Gautam to make good the time at Satyanarayana Swami’s temple. Thus, climbing up the steps to the hilltop temple of the Lord of Annavaram, he felt he visualized the aura of bhakti before swamiji showed him the light of knowledge.

The next day, Gautam got the audience of the swamiji. Baring his troubled soul to the revered seer, Gautam beseeched him to take him under his wings. Moved by Gautam’s tragic tale, the swamiji agreed to make him his shishya and nurse him to moksha.

“But, swamiji,” said Gautam in apprehension, “given my past can I ever seek moksha?”

“It’s all about directing one’s passion,” said Sripada Swami. “If you probe the divine as passionately as you pursued the mundane then you won’t be far off moksha in this life itself.”

When a gratified Gautam wanted to donate his immense wealth to the ashram, the swamiji saw his disciple’s destiny differently.

“It’s one thing to chase the mirage of moolah and another to desert the oasis of wealth,” said the seer in compassion. “In either case, it betrays the lack of a balanced mind.”

“But then, swamiji,” said Gautam, “how can it be imbalance if after leaving my son self-sufficient I renounce the rest for the public good?”

“Won’t your largess to this ashram,” said the swamiji in smile, “dispossess your son to that extent?”

“Why, swamiji,” said a perplexed Gautam, “won’t my son be relieved of that much overburden?”

“Why do you see wealth as a bane when in reality it is a boon?” said the swamiji. “Why deny him of what is his by right and thereby induce in him a sense of deprivation? What if he covets wealth later with a vengeance? Won’t history repeat itself?”

“Swamiji, I’m confused really,” said Gautam in despair. “Pray show me the way.”

“Your confusion is the confusion of mankind,” said the seer, stroking his flowing beard. “Ironically, man’s existential confusion is caused by the two life-supporting elements—kama, the biological need, and artha, the mundane means. Kama is the innate urge for a mate accentuated as passion. And passion is but a manifestation of physical attraction between the sexes. When gratified by lovemaking, it occasions a fulfilled feeling for man and woman alike. But, sex sans love, kama is soulless mating.”

“How true it is swamiji,” said Gautam with hindsight.

“As for artha,” resumed the seer, “it helps nourish the body to sustain life. If kama is the heart of our body, artha forms the veins of our life. So, artha and kama in conjunction make an integrated life-support system.”

“Is man’s life, say, a twin-engine drone,’ said Gautam, “propelled by kama and artha?”

“True,” said the seer, “and maneuvered by mind.”

“What if one of the engines develops a snag,” said Gautam, “leading to a crash? Is there no way to avert that swamiji?”

“Why not, if only one trains his mind.”

“How that can be done?” asked Gautam.

“By studying art of being in the school of dharma,” said the seer, “to gain moksha, the bliss of being.”

“But then,” said a nonplussed Gautam, “moksha is getting rid of rebirths, isn’t it?”

“The concept of moksha as it has evolved is that the ultimate bliss lies not in being but in non-being,” said the swamiji. “As the state of paramatma is of pure bliss, it is reckoned that the merger of man’s atma with it is moksha. And so it is averred that it should be the goal of life.”

“Swamiji, but what’s the contradiction in that?”

“Why don't you see this concept deprecate the value of life itself?” said the swamiji, as a prelude to expostulate his theory of moksha. “Won't that amount to the celebration of the cessation of life? Why not we regard life as a benign happening and not a baneful existence? If only you value life then won't the classical theory of moksha be an anathema? Why fail to celebrate the beauty of life, of self-fulfillment and social enrichment? So moksha for me is all about leading a fulfilled life while hoping for the same in the births to come. It is the inability of man to appreciate the potentialities of life that makes him seek a refuge in the heaven.”

“Oh swamiji, wonder why man fails to appreciate this?” exclaimed Gautam.

“Why, simply put, it’s owing to man's lacking of common sense,” said the swamiji, impressed with Gautam's keenness. “If we allegorize life as a twin-engine drone as you said, the pulls of kama impede the right take-off and the pressures of artha hamper its safe landing. Thus, with an uninitiated mind, it could be a false take-off on the runway of lust or a crash landing on the roughs of greed. And with the vacillating mind, it might be a case of midair crash. Thus, it’s the ability to take precautions to avert these mishaps that makes one a competent operator. But, the hallmark of a veteran is the ability to cruise life on the course of moksha, the state of blissful living.”

“What’s that dharma which makes life in itself a moksha?”

“Sadly for man,” said the seer, “the diversity of life won’t lend to encapsulate dharma into a vaunted mantra to grant him moksha. Given the divisiveness of color, creed and culture, how can there ever be one universal dharma? Won’t the able-bodied, the handicapped, the haves, and the have-nots with differing abilities come to live together? Wouldn’t that by itself result in an unequal quality of life on earth? Why, even in heaven there are gods and demigods, going by our puranas that is. And one needs to reckon with the divergent male   female psyches and the differing individual natures of men, women as well as children. Besides, the libido of the folks, the embodiment of kama, invariably varies to complicate life further. Won't the unique climatic conditions vary the way of living? More so, how could one ever reconcile the dogmatism of the religions?”

“How true swamiji,” said Gautam with a sense of learning, “God Himself, if there is One, couldn’t envisage one dharma! Won’t the alleged revelations of His to His prophets testify to that?”

“Let’s not digress into the perilous paths the religions had laid for man to his bane,” said the seer. “Why, won't social conditions and political arrangements affect the human condition? Well, the list of human dichotomies leads us to infinity? Thus, even among the people of a race or a nation, life is not a homogeneous proposition amenable for a common dharma. That’s why it’s absurd to suggest that there could be a monolithic moksha-enabling-dharma for the humanity at large.”

“That's true swamiji,” said Gautam, “but how is one to know what is his dharma?”

“Since dharma is a self-evolved moksha-enabling way of life,” said the seer, “it is for the individual to evolve his or her own dharma.”

“Won’t it be like groping in the dark?” asked Gautam. “After all, one needs to know what to aim at for him to get focused on it.”

“Grasping the facets of life governed by kama and artha enables man