Friday, September 18, 2009
Purify & Defile //Part - I
The ravers flier is anonymous, doesn’t have any details other than the time and place of the midnight party. I see it dumbfounded, life echoes endless screams in one ear, and the other is already deaf. The flier is stuck to a wall at the end of time; at least to me. The party congregates at night, starts at midnight and doesn’t tell when it will end (will it ever, I think to myself). Its on the banks of ganges, on a ghat unspecified in the sacred town of kashi. The sacred hometown of lord vishveshwara. Where all things meet, where all things shall end.
I am not enthusiastic packing my bags, to head out from my home. I have been suffering from manic depression, the questions in my head are louder, more insane. Reaching out to grab a piece of me, whatever is left, like vultures to the rotting corpse. No end in sight of the cycle of karma. No final solution to the deep distressing problems of the night.
The town looks bare, no colors, no people. I stand and light up a cigarette in the bus stop. Nonstop journey and my arse feels as if all the tridents from hell have poked it good. This is not kashi, I think to myself. Kashi is deep and sensual. No traces of life here, I have the copy of flier which I flicked from that wall with me, I go around asking people “ so is there a party here? Heard some firangs are here to play that dik-chik type music?” No answers, No interest. The beggars crowd around the garbage fires, the winter chill and the ganges make it serene even next to filth.
Feels like vomit at the end of earth, walking these lonely roads at this time of the night, vomit for it is not this place but the sensation of losing I, in this place, in this weird time. That is kasi, something way out of the plane of existence as we know it.
I reach ghat after ghat, no party here, there are not even any party people in this town, no hippies, long haired grunge travelers, no babas and apparent sadhus, all coming in for the piece of the action, and no before party beats to show people the way to the location. This is weird I say to myself. I took a pilgrimage to the place where all die, where all are dust- for what? This is not my time, yet, I believe… I hope.
Manikarnika shows up in front of me, I swear that I had not seen where it is, I was not heading for this! I am to head to a party, dropped thrice tonight yet I was not ready for THIS> the place of rest and peace. no no. not tonight!
Dissolution is the other name for manikarnika, sacred and revered by Hindus as the focal point for cremation on this planet, it now looks like the empty left over of the Hindu frame of mind, dusty, dirty and repulsive. Yet it holds a glow, glow of stark raving death.
I go inside the wide gates, this is weird I think- seeing a banner put up in front of the gates – “seek and ye shall find, come and see whats deep inside-you and I” nothing else, written in black and red alternating words. No guards, no keepers of the crypt. Indeed disturbing. but what of the dead inside? would they be pleasing enough
Being inside the sacred city of silence at this late hour, I would have ideally liked to see the temples- but they are closed, so I step into what could be only better, the original domicile of the lord natha, The other ghats like assi, dashwamedh look pale in comparison to this, I forgot about the river, which I can now notice at the periphery. Looks serene at night with the full moon rising at the other ends, maybe I cannot see the litter, the pollutants- the night removes all of those. Indeed I would have been happy if it had been a moonless night, for when the light protrudes into places like this ghat, many unknown forces become active, hungry and despise intruders like myself. All these thoughts come fast and uncontrolled into my head, as i take slow and steady/sturdy steps to reach into where one is purified and defiled.
I start feeling tremors underneath my feet, the ground is slipping, and the beats are becoming now more pronounced-lo~suddenly!, reverberating in my mind. I am keen to find the source, surely this is not the locale for partying by any insane keeps or is it?
I sit near a peepul trees gaze-old and revered-tied with endless red strings for the dead men/womens peace- or that if they cannot find peace, they always have this tree to come and haunt :). I know that’s not a wise choice, but this place defies is truth and what are lies. Everything and one is equal here. For every single thing becomes part of what it originally is. the dust at the feet of the master~self
The Dj for the night has started up unceremoniously I feel, there is no crowd here except me, or are there? Maybe people/others like me have come here and are hiding in peripheries on this moonlight night, feeling the music near the river washing away their pains once and for all.
I start walking now, the music is irresistible, the beats becoming faster and the rhythm becoming chaotic. Where is the dj console for this rave? Where is the dancing floor? Where are the people and the smoking pipes lit up as a smoke signal to the other unwary trippers?
All I see is one funeral pyre after another, some still lit, some still full on blaze. The flesh burns and nausea to those who still dream to live. In this place everything remains still, everything must die.
At the end of the ghat, I see it, 5 funeral pyres stacked upon each other, all lit with embers still and on top sitting is the naga sadhu in deep introspection. I freak out like many times before, is this a dream or a nightmare? Is this real? The words spoken in the mind and the answers instantly replied. This is your end child, come and dance for the lord is tonight in benevolent mood, he shall obliterate your tongue and your self once and for all.
I look around but the drops have kicked in, the mind is lucid; the stars they all falling down one by one like shooting stars, all around the full round beautiful glazed moon.
Deeper in my mind, I have seen this scene before, like a déjà-vu, like some serenity not found. The dj is not stopping, sitting on the pyres he is signaling again and again in some repetitive fashion to the skies and the earth in alternating manner, I think he is pulling off the music of my life, yea verily he is bringing the world to a halt, to my attention before my demise.
My feet cannot stop from grooving and I start dancing free style (freaking out !) around the burning pyres, one by one i notice from the corner of my eyes that- they are all coming back to life…
Oh How you light up everyday and night for me, your sweet smile and gentle laughter is the reason for which I have taken birth. What purpo...
On the broken cross roads where roads diverge; On the battlefield where the blood flows; In the smashan; where smoke is all which is left; I...
Today is a good day; for the day is dedicated to kamala. The passive benign loving mother of this universe; who is constantly involved...
I recently went for a trek in the himachal among the power mountains, which have lasted there for millenia together. When in hills, I try t...