The Pilgrimage

The Pilgrimage


“Swamiye Saranam Ayyappa! Swami Saranam!” The pilgrim chanted while descending the Neelimala. He was glad that he was nearing the destination, the Sabarimala, the abode of Lord Ayyappa.
The journey to Sabarimala was too strenuous, but the pilgrim, Mohan, did not need any sympathy from others. He had undertaken the rigorous ‘vratha’, knowing fully well the inconveniences involved. Once he had made up his mind, nothing could stop him from achieving his goal. He was of that sort- a business man.
This was not his first visit to Sabarimala. He had been there once earlier, but under different circumstances, under entirely different conditions. Then he was a wealthy, prosperous businessman blinded by success.
He had gone there as if on a picnic. He had not bothered about any ‘vratha’. His ‘irumudi’ had only his egotism and pride.
He had gone there to question the very existence of the ‘Infinite’, to ridicule the wisdom of the hoary past. He had gone there just to prove that Lata, his wife, was wrong in believing in all that nonsense about the pilgrimage to Sabarimala and that a businessman with his money power could purchase even the ‘darshan’ of the deity without worrying about the rituals.
Events that followed proved him wrong. He could reach the ‘sannidhanam’ safe, but could not have the ‘darshan’. He tried a number of times, but for one reason or the other, could not even catch a glimpse of the deity. Sometimes the deity was covered under a cloud of camphor fumes and at other times He shut Himself up behind a human wall of pilgrims.
Mohan did not narrate this peculiar incident to any one, for he knew he would be criticized. His people would have blamed him for his lack of faith. They would have expounded theories as to why the Lord did not give ‘darshan’ to non-believers.
His wife, Lata, was a villager brought up in the steep traditions of a religious family. When success had blinded him, she used to remind him that he was nothing but an instrument of the Lord to do what He wanted and it was His wish that made him successful.
“Whatever Ayyappa be, He is not good in business”, he used to chide her. “Let Him be there in Sabarimala amidst the pilgrims, leaving this business part to us, businessmen.”
After reaching the top rung of the ladder of success, when his fall started, he became panicky. He realized that he was plummeting to ruin, to oblivion. Even then, his wife assured him that the very Ayyappa would help him to recover.
True, even at the pinnacle of success, when life looked bright and beautiful, he did get some glimpses of how Ayyappa helped them, Mohan remembered. Only he was blind to all that experience. When the dark days of failure stared at him, he could recall one incident – how he was saved from a tragedy.
He was to go to Madras by the evening flight on that day to strike a big deal. The parties had been contacted by his representative who phoned him that if he failed to reach by night, the deal would slip out of his hands.
“Look, once this contract is signed, I shall be one of the leading industrialists”, he told his wife during lunch that day.
“May He make you successful in the venture”, she said prayerfully.
“In this I do not need His help. Nobody else need take any credit for it,” was his reaction.
When he reached home in the evening to collect his baggage, he found Lata sickly and pale.
“What happened to you?”, he asked.
“The child is not well”, she replied hesitantly. “He is running high temperature.”
“Doctor says that the boy might not survive the night”, she added. “It would be better if you could postpone the journey”.
He felt a hundred bombs exploding within him. Anger and frustration welled up within him. He was looking forward to signing that contract and what a time the child got to fall unwell? Whatever he had planned for the future would fail if he did not reach Madras that night. But the night was critical for the child, his only son.
“I am sure that Ayyappa would help us”, Lata said meekly. “By His grace, the child is sure to recover”.
He had had enough of it, her eulogizing Ayyappa. He could not stand it any further.
“You keep on telling every time that Ayyappa would help us”, he burst out. “Now look what He has done to us. My prospects are all gone if I do not sign the contract to-night. And I do not know what to do. Your Ayyappa had been a party to this conspiracy”.
He went inside to see how the boy was. It was a pathetic sight.
“After all, whatever I plan is for the sake of this child”, he thought. “Let me be with him till his last moment”, he decided.
He cancelled the ticket and gone was the big deal.
He kept a night long vigil by the side of his child. Around 3 AM. ,the boy appeared to be better and before dawn, he was almost normal!
Mohan felt let down. He expressed his anger in every word and deed.
“Only just to prevent my going, the boy was ill”, he told Lata. “This is how your Ayyappa takes care of us!”
She kept silent.
The morning news he heard shocked him. The night plane to Madras had crashed while landing, the report said. None, not even the crew, had survived!
Mohan did not have the time to analyze the significance of that incident. He was a successful businessman and had no time for philosophical flights.
When he soared high in the business world, he gave the credit to himself, for his business acumen and tact. When his downfall started and the yawning abyss of financial ruin gaped at him, he cried out of confusion and despair blaming that his friends had let him down.
It was at that moment of despair that Lata advised him to undertake the spiritual adventure to Sabarimala, to seek His blessings for happiness and guidance in life.
Mohan wondered whether it was too late to seek the blessings of Ayyappa to attain that peace for which he was pining. Yes. He would undertake the pilgrimage. The alternative was disastrous.- to sink into despair and disillusionment.
When the doors of the ‘Srikoil’ opened, Mohan could see Ayyappa, the lord of Sabarimala, shining amidst the soft, sootless flames of lamps, their wicks soaked in ghee. Camphor cubes were everywhere as though each was eager to get a chance to bow in front of the deity. They were too glad to sacrifice themselves before Him, to be one with Him, he felt.
It gave him a new insight into the philosophy of life. Those camphor cubes glorified the life of action, at the same time symbolizing the life of contemplation by dissolving into Him. It gave him the feeling that the Universe was not chaos but Cosmos.
For some time he watched the deity, concentrating on every one of the features exploring the possibility of identifying something unique which attracted the pilgrims to assemble there in thousands, ignoring the inconveniences in that long trek to Sabarimala.
There was something extraordinary about the place, something unusual about the form of the deity.
The form of the deity cast a spell on him. True, it was not made of the glittering yellow metal which could blind one by reflections. It had some extraordinary charm which he could not comprehend.
Slowly, the feeling of oneness with the Lord engulfed him, uplifting him higher and higher to the subtler planes till he glided into the experience of the transcendental Absolute.
Somewhere from within he heard something crash and he identified it as the wall he had built since ages around his ego centre to exclude the divine spark of life.
Through the chink in the wall he saw the ray of divinity peeping into his life and as the wall gave way, unable to withstand the flood light of divinity, his life stood illuminated before him; he experienced the Absolute in him; as the Cause of all creation, as the Might of all substances as originated from that deity, the Lord of Sabarimala.
Mohan understood the gains of that pilgrimage, the pilgrimage to Sabarimala, the pilgrimage to reach the Absolute.


(Bhavans Journal, January,16, 1983)

The Opinion Poll

The Opinion Poll

There was a welcome news in the papers recently that the authorities concerned had decided to repair the portion of the A B road passing through Indore city. I was happy. This would be an ideal subject for my study- an opinion poll I was thinking of carrying out as a part of my assignment to cover a rosy picture of the concern of the ruling party on the sufferings of the Indoreans. I thought that a favorable report on the subject would improve my prospects of coming into the good books of the people that mattered.
In my opinion poll, as per existing practice, a cross section of the society involved should be covered, I knew. The samples to be examined should belong to the different strata of the society, I had been told. Hence I had no difficulty in planning the operations for carrying out the survey.
To start with, I thought it prudent to interview the economically weaker sections of the society, who are the main vote banks for any party. Raju, the mechanic, semed an ideal choice. He belonged to the OBC and he represented the working class.
Raju was attending to a car when I met him in the ‘Popular Garage’.
“Sorry, sir, I am not in a position to attend to your car to-day”. Even before I had time to explain to him the mission of my visit, he told me. “I have these cars to be repaired and delivered within this week and with the present day conditions of the roads, emergency has also to be attended.”
“Don’t worry, I have not come here for any routine repairs”, I told him. “In fact, I have brought good news for you.”
“Any election around the corner? More old jeeps to be put into operation?”
“None of that”, I told him. “The authorities have decided to repair the highway. Adequate funds are going to be provided.”
“What nonsense? The people in power have lost their sense of proportion. Repairing the roads! Why can’t they think of providing people the minimum requirements of roti, kapda and makan?.
“That means that you are not happy to hear this news?”
“How will I? These roads give me my daily bread. If they are kept in good condition, there would be no vehicle in this garage and I would have to look for some other employment”.
“Instead of making people like me unemployed, let them do something useful to the people”, he added as an after thought.
I was certainly disappointed. I thought it would prove good to meet the road users.
I went to Ramu, the ‘raddiwala’, whom I used to see every day pedaling along the road.
“I am happy with the present conditions of the road,” he said.
“At least I am safe since all the vehicles are forced to go slow here. Otherwise, the trucks and the Maruthis would have pushed us out.’
The interview with the low income group being not very encouraging, I thought of getting the views of government employees, the representatives of middle income group.
I had met Arjundas a couple of times earlier. He was a middle level officer in the Social Welfare Department.
“What brings you here?” He asked me after the usual formalities.
“I have good news for you”, I said.
“Must be about the Pay Commission”. He was excited. “So what are they recommending?”
“No, it is not about the Pay Commission”.
“Then it must be about our departmental promotion committee which met last week”. He said without losing hope.
“I have no news of that either”, I said meekly.
“Then which is that important news that made you rush to me in this cold morning?”
“The authorities have decided to repair this killer road”. I said trying to cheer him up.
I was sadly mistaken.
“They are not in a position to increase our compensatory allowances, but they have money to spend on such futile exercises”. Das screamed. “If I were to decide, I would have given priority to staff welfare measures instead of thinking of such foolish ventures”.
I thought of interviewing Jaspal, the owner of a chain of hotels in the city. Being involved in the tourism industry, he was sure to feel happy about the news, I was certain.
“Good, wide roads are necessary to improve tourism”, he mumbled. “But, why are they in a hurry to repair this road , ignoring the other pressing problems?”
Jaspal had some reservations on the subject, I could feel from his reply. I wanted to know why.
“You must understand that major part of my earnings come from my shops dealing with auto-spares”, the hotel owner said. “As regards hotels, you know very well that there is a glut at present. Tourists or no tourists, so long as the road remains like this, I have nothing to worry.”
Though the survey conducted so far drew flak, I was certain that there would be one section who would welcome the proposals. I met Govind, the PWD contractor.
“It is really a welcome news.”, the contractor said. “Thank god, at last the authorities have woken up from their deep slumber. The work should have been done in May, before the rains At least, the public would have been spared of the sufferings.”
“Why repair in May? Why not after the rains?”
“We also have to eke out a living.” He said with a smile.
Back at home, I analysed the results. Only 20% were in favour of the repairs! 60% were against and the rest were indifferent.
To conclude, let the road continue to be in the present condition in deference to the wishes of the majority!

( Free Press , Indore, dt. October 28,1994 )