The Prophet of Bommanappalle

Sreekumar.K

As he was coming down the hill, Yasodharan looked up at the clouded sky and sighed. He wondered why even such a thing as a clouded sky brought to his mind thoughts about death.

Thick dark clouds were slowly moving across he sky. The hills around RishiValley act as an inclined ramp for the rain clouds to move higher up in the sky and miss the valley totally. So, there was very little chance to rain.

Old Ramulu used to tell him very accurately whether the sky was going to pour down or not. Ramulu died two years ago of a bad fever. He was eighty-five. Nobody in the village could predict the weather so accurately.

Yasodharan also could predict things. He had learned a little bit of palmistry, astrology and yoga when he was in Varanasi.

He had left Varanasi as advised by his guru and wandered around to see the world. He went to Kanyakumari and then to Arunagiri. Very interesting places. He came to Madanappalle because he had heard about Krishnamurthi. He went to his house once, but he always missed him for some reason or the other. By the time he came for a second visit to Madanappalle, Krishnamurthi was no more.

Yasodharan had thought of returning to Varanasi, when he suddenly had a desire to wander around among the many Kondas which made the place beautiful.

Incidentally, that same day the people decided to reopen an old temple. A priest who had agreed to come for the puja didn’t turn up. Many people mistook Yasodharan for a poojari and asked him to do the puja. He agreed. But after the puja, he told them that he was wanderer who had no intention to stay. But the next morning he wondered why he shouldn’t stay. At least, he didn’t really feel like leaving. He could stay. May be he could teach one of the villagers to do the puja before he left. He did teach two of the village men to do the puja and they took over the duty from him. But by then he had no desire to leave the place.

He stayed for a long time there. Though he was an adept in palmistry and astrology he did not let other people find out much about his expertise. He himself was fed up with it.

At Varanasi he had spend a good number of years to learn astrology and palmistry. He had mastered it. His guru was so happy about him and he had told others that he was much better than the guru himself. He surprised himself by predicting an innumerable number of things. Most of the time he had to use the charts and conch shells, but over the years he found that most of it came to him as visions. There was a time when after dealing with so many people who came to him to have their future divined, he would be in a different state of mind. He would get visions of things about to happen. But later this siddhi bothered him. Fortunately, there were times when he was totally wrong. He found that these visions came to him mostly after long hours of reading palms or working with those cowry shells. Once he told his Guru and he started laughing.

“Yaso, though I had found that you were much better than me in these things, I had also foreseen that you would eventually find your siddhi troublesome and run away from it. Haven’t you noticed that I had stopped doing these things a long time ago? I think this is the time for you also to try quitting it. I quit it not only because it bothers me, but also because it is not worth possessing. It works against your peace of mind.”

Yasodharan found it difficult to throw away what he had gained through so much practice.

Leela was coming up the hill. She was looking very ill these days. He knew she was not eating properly. But then, no one in this village had enough to eat. Since water was becoming scarce every year, families were leaving every now and then. Most of them went to the cities and were promptly forgotten. A few old people came back for the temple festivals and they didn’t look like they were faring any better.

After he handed over the temple duties to the others Yasodharan decided to stay away from the village. He left his room near the temple and found this hut high up in the village. Here he designed baskets and mats and taught the designs and techniques to a few villagers.

In return he demanded only one thing from the villagers. He wanted a single meal everyday brought up to his hut.

A zaminder in the village sent him some food everyday through Leela.. Yasodharan ate very little and Leela ate what was left over. It had become very difficult for her after her husband left her after the birth of her third daughter. There was no way to trace him down. Some said that he had married again and that he was living near Tirupati. There should be someone in the village who knew his whereabouts.

The baby was almost three months old now.

When Leela repeatedly asked him if her husband would ever come back, he once tried to look into the possibility. From the rasis he was able to predict that Leela’s husband would come back following a death in her family.

He disclosed this to her and so when her grandmother died she was very hopeful. He might hear about the death from someone and would drop in to have a last look at her. After all, it was this old lady who had encouraged her to marry him.

Leela waited for days even after the burial. But he never came.

Later she asked Yasodharan if there was a possibility for another death in the near future.

He asked her to forget about it all and live for her baby. He had managed to send a note to the farmer demanding more food. Not because he wanted more but because he wanted Leela to have more left over food. Her baby surely needed more milk from her.

Yasodharan had been feeling uncomfortable since last week. First, he thought it was his arthritis coming back. But there were no real symptoms of anything like that.

Was it his routine life telling on him? Had he finally been defeated by the boredom of the village life? But he liked it here.

He finally figured it out.

It was the smell of death that was troubling him. Some one close to him was about to die.

He took a closer look at it. He tried the rasis of all the people around him. Everyone was hale and hearty. He went through the whole list.

Finally he concluded that it was not anyone in Thettu. It should be some one close to his heart but far away.

He had no connection with his relatives. He hadn’t seen any of them for years. The only person who cared for him and he cared for was Swami, his guru, the man who taught him astrology when he was in Varanasi.

Yes. There was a heavy chance there. At least, it was not a bad idea to pay him a visit.

If he was fine, Swami would tease him about the visit. It was very hard to hide anything from the old man.

Yasodharan did not think twice about it. He knew there was no point in thinking twice. One hint was too many in cases like this. But whose death? Who was he to make such predictions?

However, there was no time to waste.

The very next morning, before day break, he set out on foot to the next town.

There was no door to shut, no door to lock, no milk man to be given notice.

Yasodharan walked out of his room and continued to walk all the way to Madanappalle. He caught a bus to Chittoor from where he would catch a bus to Tirupathi. He had some friends there. From there on, they would arrange his journey. He hadn’t seen them also for quite some time.

It took him only three days to reach Varanasi. He noticed that the city has changed quite a lot. Like a ripple starting in the centre of a pool, a new city was being built continuously in the centre. The kind of smell and noise he was familiar with were now pushed to the outer limits of the city.

Swami would not come back to his home until late at night. He usually went for a walk near the ghats and would stay around the lower steps for some time every day. He didn’t prefer companionship at that time. But how could he be sure that swami was still healthy enough to do that? But how was he sure he wasn't?

Assumptions. Assumptions.

He had come all the way because of an assumption. And now when he was very close to his destination, he was tarrying because of another assumption.

He swept all those thoughts out of his mind and went for a plunge in the holy waters. It felt different. He could feel it flowing past his body without leaving a trace. Dirtier than the water in Thettu. But then, you will never see so much water in Thettu.

Around the ghats, life hadn’t changed much. It had been probably like this for centuries.

He felt better after the plunge and ate his supper.

Finally, he decided that there was no need for him to wait till the next morning to go and see Swami.

There was no problem in locating the house. He had spent seven years of his life there.

The room, as usual, was not locked. Still, he preferred to wait outside.

The wind from the river could be felt even here. Yasodharan felt very sleepy. The many oil lamps he had seen around the ghats danced in his mind. It was very beautiful. The holy waters reflected them in a hazy way. He could now smell the fragrance of burning camphor and oil.

He hadn’t noticed it before when he actually was in the scene. But there was a mother and a baby, just near him walking into the deep waters. No, he had noticed that and had touched the mother’s shoulder to wake her up from sleep walking.

But it was he who was being shaken.

“Wake up Yaso, or are you dead?”

He recognized the voice. He recognized the harsh tone enshrouding a wealth of kindness and care.

“Swami……. I slept off…”

“Rama! I thought you were dead. Come inside since you are not dead, though my room is no bigger than a coffin.”

“Swami, how did you know?”

“Easy. You haven’t changed at all”

“No, I was not asking how you recognized me. I was asking how you knew why I am here”

“How do you know what I think about the purpose of this visit?”

“Swami, you mentioned death four times”

“No, three times. Then I mentioned a coffin”

“Still, it is clear that you have some idea about the purpose of my visit”

“Yes’

“But, how?”

“I already answered that question. But you didn’t listen.”

“Swami?”

“I told you, you haven’t changed at all, meaning you still have a fancy for predictions though you are not good at it and you easily jump into conclusions. You are still blind. No, even a blind man would see why you come all the way from wherever you are, all upon a sudden, just like that.”

“Swami!”

“I am not dead, but I am very tired. I need to sleep. I hope you had some supper. You may find some fruit there in the corner. Make yourself comfortable. It is just you and me. If you plan to go for a plunge in the morning, call me too.”

With this he disappeared into a dark corner and was soon fast asleep.

The next morning Yasodharan did wake up Swami and they went for a walk together.

Yasodharan didn’t know where to start.

Swami looked hale and hearty as usual. Still, signs of old age were there.

But that was all. He was still pretty strong. He remembered how Swami had dragged him out of a strong current long back. He can still do it, no doubt.

“So you had a bad dream or something?”

“Why Swami?”

“Otherwise you wouldn’t come all the way without a notice.”

“I didn’t have a bad dream. In fact the dreams were pretty good these days. I dreamt that my house maid’s husband came back to the village. However, I had such a bad feeling in my mind, a sad feeling not particularly about anything.”

“Like the smell of death?”

“Very much like that. But there wasn’t anyone sick ………”

“Except me. Isn’t that what you thought? I won’t blame you. Even my younger brother is on his death bed”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yes, he is. But what you felt is not the presence of death around either of us. It seems to me that your journey has been wasted. You may be needed in your village right now. I would advise you to start in the afternoon.”

On the way back from the river Swami asked him about his present occupations.

“I have handed over my duties at the temple. I spent most of the time in my own hut on the hill top.”

“Not many customers for your astrological and palmistry services?”

“No, Swami. I am not interested any more in them. I am finished with them. I have had my share of excitement. Long back when you told me I would get sick of them one day, it was hard for me to believe. I thought that would be my life long career.”

“So, one of my predictions became true and yours turned out to be wrong.”

“True, very true.”

“But you didn’t tell me the reason for such a turn of mind.”

“I have been dying to tell you about it. I remember those long nights of arguments and counter arguments we had in this very room for years. After sticking to my guns for quite a long time….”

“Six years…six long years…”, said Swami.

“Yes, six years. At the end of that period, I left you completely convinced about how relentless our fate is.”

“I won’t call it fate.”

“But it amounts to the same thing.”

“My objection is only about the half truth that the word suggests.”

“I know that. But what I would like to tell you is another story. Even after I left you, I continued to study astrology. I went to meet all those people who were well known for their ability to predict.”

“I knew you would do that.”

‘Through hard work and rigorous practice, I developed my skill to such a level that I myself was surprised”

“How bad a prophet you would have been if you could surprise yourself!’’

“Whenever you are joking I know there is some great truth coming out. You are right. Sometimes my predictions went totally wrong. But it was accurate on many occasions. But my work among the villagers tell me that changes are possible”

“You seem to suggest that I had said that changes are not possible. You are back to square one. I never said that changes are not possible in life. In fact, life is only another word for change. Changes, alterations, alternatives, and choices are there in our life. Without choices, the free will to choose is useless and hence irrelevant.”

“Yes, that was always your argument against free will.”

“But, now, if you think you have a free will, you have to admit that there are choices. This world does not tolerate uselessness or irrelevance.”

“Yes, I agree.”

“But there is also that man who thinks there is no free will. For him choices will not be there since there is no one free to choose. Having so many choices, with no free man to do the choosing, is also irrelevant. So there are no choices from his point of view. So, like many things in life, this too depends on your initial perspective.”

“But what would be the right perspective?”

“Even right and wrong cannot be the same in each perspective. Krishna told Arjuna to choose to be his instrument. But, He himself made no choice when he was about to die. We are back to the theme of death. I am sure someone in the village would have died by now. At least feel happy that you are not the reason, since you were away in Varanasi with me when it happened.”

“Who has died?”

“How would I know? You are the one who said that there was a smell of death in the air. It is a very common stench these days. You can’t find….”

“…… mustard seeds from any home not frequented by that common guest” , Yasodharan completed Swami’s sentence.

“Right”

“But my question was not answered.”

“What you have is not a question. It looks more like an answer. It won’t be such a bad thing for you to go around meeting those who have questions.”

“I know what you mean. But I am not interested in that.”

“That, of course, is up to you. But I would suggest that you go right back to that village and meet those who are close to you.”

Seven days and thousands of kilometres later, back in Thettu, Yasodharan met his villagers.

They were happy to see him. They all had so much to tell him.

When he was in the village they assumed that he did not miss any news at all. Now that he had been away they wanted to fill in on the week’s highlights.

The big sandal wood tree outside the school farm was stolen. The new Madagascar paddy had brought a good yield. The zamindar’s elder son had joined the Navy.

No, there was no death.

He asked about Leela.

Yes, there had been some news there. Her baby died a few days back.

And her husband had come back to have a last look his baby.

He may not go back. At least he was not going back soon.

In the afternoon he went to meet Leela.

Leela’s husband was also there. He told him the reasons for the baby’s death. A very common reason – starvation. Leela couldn’t give her any milk for three days. She herself had been starving for a week.

The sarcasm in Swami’s words scorched the inner recesses of his mind.

“At least feel happy that you are not the reason, since you were away in Varanasi with me when it happened.”

He alone was responsible. When he was away at Varanasi, Leela didn’t have to bring food for him. So, she didn’t get the only food available to her, the left over. So, there was nothing left in her for the baby.

He alone was responsible.

Leela was still mourning the death of her baby. The others probably felt happy that there was one mouth less to feed. And that too a girl’s.

Yasodharan walked down the steps to the dusty road. It was raining somewhere else. The wind blew the dust up. He was lost in it for a moment. It was like a plunge in the Sangam. And then, quite unlike it too.