In the month of November, everyone gears up to take leave from the routined tasks of the monotonous life as the greatest festival of 'Dipawali' nears high. People start their preparations a month before the occasion occurs. I call it the greatest of all business because everyone is hopefully inspired and happily busy in their chores. Bhanu had messaged me to book bus tickets together. I asked brother Bhargav to book five tickets on 7th of November.
Aisha messaged the video of her home decorations in our group chat. Everyone applauded the glittery beautifications. She sent me the video of her personal room adorned with colourful lights. She sent me an audio message telling about a love letter that Dakshit had written before his wedding with Dikshita but couldn't have posted it over some reasons. The year Dikshita's birthday fell on the same day of Dipawali. So, she planned to do then, what was undone before. She said Dikshita wanted to return if Dakshit proposed his love for her once again. "I am sure Dipawali this year is gonna be the best of all times." She expressed her excitement.
Me: Don't overact in this excitement Aisha. It may hit you back. Do it wisely. If Dakshit sends his wife any present oblivious to you, your plan mayn't work.
Aisha responded that the gift Dakshit had bought for his wife on her birthday is secret and safe in her room.
By the evening, I had a message from Mr. Jayavardhan. On playing the video, I saw how much Divya had progressed learning Karate in such a short notice. I thanked him to have Divya prosper in the field. He wished me 'Happy Dipawali' in advance.
Me: (in response to Mr. Jayavardhan's message) Treating one's senses by enjoying the sweet dishes, firing the crackers and dancing on Dj music doesn't signify the eminence of Dipawali. People have escaped almost every traditions that we followed during the celebrations. If we do not bear the duty of conserving our culture from any kind of atrophy, we will be blamed for the future disrepair. Sir, you are the voice of Marwar. If you guide us in organizing various celebrative functions that draw attention of the people towards our cultures and traditions, we can have an impact on the mindsets.
He didn't reply after having read the message. On 7th of November, when we all boarded the bus to our home, Shubham started the conversation.
Shubham: This time the mayor had ordered the local administrators to carry out the lighting decorations during Dipawali in the whole of the district in their own budget. However, the generals have the choice of lighting their homes with the earthen lamps. She ordered that the general fairs be conducted in a large open area and there mustn't be any modern music performances. The firing of crackers is allowed only for two hours, ten to midnight. She recommended keeping stalls of our traditional sweets and dishes and earthen arts and crafts during the fairs. The police officers are commanded to keep strict invigilation over the activities of people and monitor the traffic efficiently.
Brother Hemanta: (interruption) The elite class have supported the mayor's order. They have provided donations and guided the youth to voluntarily aid the municipal officers. The pundits have also made arrangements of speakers in around the district to let everyone listen the hymns and the folklores they recite in the premises of the temples.
Brother Bhargava: I have heard that a grocer 'Jagan Baniya' has recently launched a campaign to aware about the threat posed by textiles to our environment. He has managed to collect tonnes of unused clothes and sent them for recycle/reuse as possible. His slogan is to avoid the fast fashion and Vastra.com has been supporting his campaign. He said that he was inspired by Agastya and drew a social obligation said by Agastya.
(Brother Bhargav recalled and shared a random video he saw on internet a few days back.)
After listening to all of them, Bhanu spoke up.
Bhanu: Agastya! The dean of the Marwar College Mr.Jayavardhan and Kusum, together, have organized cultural performances in various schools around the district. They have also called local musicians and Kathak performers in the shows.
Brother Hemanta: (curious) Who is Kusum?
Bhanu: Kusum is the daughter of our district mayor, Ma'am Madhu. I have met her during the chess competition.
Everyone were lost in their own thoughts when Bhanu spoke up again.
Bhanu: So many changes have occurred this year at once. Agastya, why aren't you speaking anything? You must have heard all these earlier. It's only you who is in connection with the elite class in our society, the grocer 'Jagan', Mr. Jayavardhan and Kusum. Even the pundits in our town are impressed by you.
Before I spoke up, Shubham read an editorial title on a news application.
Shubham: Communism vs. Capitalism and the art of choice. Yet most of the individuals have not overcome the difference in their vision of life and the aim in life, thus, the fundamental requirement to learn the art of choice is missed out. There is life all around to compare oneself with. One who identifies himself/herself with particular processes going on in the outer world, first learns to practise the aim and once s/he is adept to pursue the target, s/he adopts the capitalist principles in life. On the other hand, one who identifies himself/herself to be a smaller part of the whole process of the world, keeps on functioning well to let produce the conservative energy that in the future revives the motion of world affairs.
I interrupted him.
Me: Every philosophy has its own pros and cons. As the saying goes 'change is the permanent truth', one may take his/her life on a particular path anyway but the wise always suggest us to accept the restraints and steadily follow the path until and unless it is time relevant. However, we have walked a long way and shared our prolific experiences to the world, we shouldn't be ashamed to renounce the path once it is impertinent to the prime objective i.e. compassion.
(BREAK)
Ain't I right?
Me: But the society and the nation are not as agile as an individual/family to change its system of governance, from communism principles to capitalist behaviour or vice versa. There are different forces working together that creates it a complex mechanism to handle. The recent changes seen in the district of Marwar, however a Gordian system, yet do not signify the Leftist movement but the utopian art of choice of the Marwaris."
Shubham was startled to hear the essay, had it been uploaded in the opinion page two hours before.
Shubham: How come you know about this essay without reading it?
I asked him to check the writer's name. It was Sumati and me who wrote the editorial.
Bhanu: (perplexed) So, are you in connection with our rivals met in chess tournament?
The bus conductor called us to unboard as we reached our hometown. Grandparents had an eye on the gate expecting our arrival. Brother Rudra was dining alone when we reached home. After having lunch for the day, I moved out to Vinita's home. Soumya was happily shocked to see me at her home.
Divya and Parineeti: Hello mamu! How are you?
Me: (simper) Fantastic!
I approached to Vinita jiji while she was serving food to Pramod. I always have a simper on my face when I visit her home. I asked Divya about the preparations at her school for the Dipawali celebrations. She answered that almost all the required arrangements had been made, not only in her school, but in other villages in the district, too. I further asked their opinion on the procedures and actions taken during the festive season and if there was something not brought to the table then.
Soumya: (intellectually) How will we know that the programmes and other measures were successfully carried out in the district? Mamu, we should move to each home and ward to know if everyone is satisfied or not?
But moving to each home, ward and villages in the district seemed non-viable at the moment. I asked Divya to put this question to Mr. Jayavardhan when she attended the karate classes in the evening.
As per the mayor's order, the local administrators had adorned the town with lights all around. When all the connections were switched on at the night, it was a pleasing view to capture in one's memory. Sitting under the sky, my brothers had long conversation about their Dipawali interlude. I got the solution to Soumya's question instantly when brother Rudra made a call to Dad. When I called Soumya, she abruptly came up at home to surprise me. She said she wished to stay with us that night.
Me: Soumya, the Nepalese follow a culture of visiting various nearby villages from the 3rd to 5th nights of Dipawali to know about the exact state of wellness and livelihood. There's a story behind it. They say the god of death 'Yamaraj' sent his envoys in every village and town, during this festival, who camouflaged in different costumes and visited every home to seek alms and learn about their state of substinence. Now, I have got the idea to get the right feedback from people on all these arrangements.
Soumya: Are you sure Mamu? Divya said Mr. Jayavardhan was unable to think and act on the solution in such a short notice.
Me: (smile) I can do this, Soumya!
Mom asked us to sleep then. We laid the cotton mats on the roof and enjoyed sleeping under the open sky. Few minutes later, Soumya woke up to complain me.
Soumya: Mamu, once you said that you had written a lullaby song for me and you sung it for Divya, too. Today I am here. Sing me the lullaby and make me sleep!
(I wondered how simply she became the reason behind my smile. I pampered her and sung her the lullaby to make her sleep. When I slept besides her, she had her arms over me.)
It was 2:00 a.m. in the morning when I woke up. It was cold and dark. When Soumya felt blank on my place, she woke up and watched me around. She saw someone walking on the streets up to the open yard. When I approached a street lamp, she saw it was me. She quickly rushed down the stairs and tried to follow me. For an hour and more, she kept an eye over what I did there. The sandy surface sent thrills of cold to her but she gazed on me. When I prepared to move back by quarter to four, she approached me to enquire about everything she saw. I explained her everything over her vow that she would never discuss it with anyone.
A Brahmin who had visited my home the last day had informed that under the command of the preachers at the 'Navodaya Sanskrit Vidyalaya', the most senior pupil 'Mayuresh' would eloquently recite the 'Vishnu Sahasranamam' to other pupils. It was a challenge to the pupils of other teaching institutions in the state. The winner provided his teaching institution to take authority of recommending the pupils in the well-renowned Sanskrit schools of the nation. It was the first day of Dipawali popularly known as 'Dhanteras'. I visited there as audience. Only eleven Sanskrit schools had participated and each had a single pupil to face-off Mayuresh. The stage constituted of the five senior-most preachers in the state. There was an asana in the left-corner of the hall where each participant faced the NE side to recite the shloka. The other gurus chaired the northern row and the audience consisted of other pupils, some of their guardians and me. The 'pradhanacharya' gave a welcome speech and under his command, one of his disciples hosted the programme. He called each participant one-by-one, asked his identity and upon the permission of the 'pradhanacharya', allowed him to recite the 'Vishnu Sahasranamam'. It's an irony that none of the ten participants succeeded. At last, Mayuresh was called and asked to recite the shloka. Reciting the shloka doesn't require to have a good memory but it requires the control over mind. One who can recite the shloka eloquently, is truly conscious of every actions and reactions happening around. While Mayuresh recited the shloka, he didn't miss a single note and the respective pitch. It was nine o'clock when the sun rays that refracted through the sapphire stone worn by one of the participants distracted Mayuresh to complete the shloka. He forgot the 'Bhagwanuvacha' and stepped off the asana. The 'pradhanacharya' was saddened by the fact that none of the participants could recite the complete 'Vishnu Sahasranamam'. On conclusion, the five preachers were asked to recite the complete shloka once.
Me: I am sorry to interrupt in the Wise' conclusion. I, the son of Mohini, Agastya, wish to recite the 'Vishnu Sahasranamam' under the permission of the 'pradhanacharya'. It would be merciful of you to allow me a chance.
One of the preachers: The programme has reached to its conclusion. You may take your seat, please.
Me: O'the learned! Conclusion is not the final decision. Once you start the execution of the conclusion, it's called the decision. Please, let me a chance to recite 'Vishnu Sahasranamam' here, in the hall of the wisest, the descendants of the Brahma!
The pradhanacharya then allowed me to recite the shloka over a condition of being penalized high if I made a single mistake during the recitation. I bowed down to him and ascended on the asana. I prayed the Lord Ganesha first and then the goddess Saraswati to help me. I sung the shloka persuasively. Perhaps, I was blessed the silver tongue to recite the thousand names of the supreme lord Vishnu. The preachers were all contented to hear me. They lauded the way I sung the shloka. The pradhanacharya hailed me as a pundit and announced me as the most deserving candidate to receive the award but I objected him on the fact that I was not a participant. The programme concluded and the audience returned back. I asked the preachers to help me.
Me: O'wise men! You must have heard about the recent measures taken by the administration and the intellectuals in preserving our culture but the generals always conflict in their personal choice and the general welfare. Only the wise alike you have the skill of unravelling the people's satisfaction and manipulating them to be devoted towards the culture. I request you to send your disciples among the generals to have a clear comprehension of their feedback and the way forward.
The pradhanacharya said that I had such a pleasing aura around me.
Pradhanacharya: At such a young age, you can recite the shlokas so beautifully, you are so astute, you have the discretion of the subjects, you are so persuasive in speaking and thoughtful of the culture, the people and the future. Your birth must be divine to this world. I have failed to recognize you Mohini-putra Agastya! Please forgive me of my mistake. As you command, so shall happen!
When I returned, a group of kathakars had arrived at home to take me as Shri Rama in their play during the fair. The function organized at Divya's school, performed by the local artists, attracted the masses. The people who avoided to buy lamps and oil to save their money later pleased the artisans to let them too celebrate the festival with their family. The fair was conducted as per the instructions given by the mayor. I, Bhanu and Soumya participated in the play and finally, burnt down the effigy of the demon king Ravana.
On the fifth and final day of Dipawali, popularly known as 'Bhaiya Dooj', I along with my brothers spent the whole day at Vinita's residence. Soumya called it the best of all times. There was joy smitten in the air. By the evening, when I approached towards the Sanskrit school, the pradhanacharya narrated the joy and complacency of the people in the whole of district. He mentioned that during those five days, there was not a single case of criminal activities and death in the district. The ostentation was ostracized to imbibe the pious subtlety of our rich culture and inspire people to steer clear of the imbroglio to lead a happy, prosperous yet simple life.
The next day, when I viewed Aisha's message she had left two days back, she rejoiced in the return of Dikshita and the reunion. She had written a long 'Thank You' letter to me. On the behalf of her family members, she requested me to accept her invitation to home. I didn't reply her anything. I hadn't slept much in the last week thus, notified everyone I'd be sleeping for some hours. I asked them not to disturb me over petty household chores. An hour later, when Soumya and Bhanu had arrived and their outburst of joy and laughter with mom and my brothers trumpeted on my ears, I couldn't resist and woke up. Seeing me awoke in furious mood, all of them kept quiet and turned to each other. I took my flute out of my bag and started playing it. The melodious tunes of the flute helped me cool down and re-energize myself.