Blind
They ushered everyone out as we kept staring at the fire that was burning too hot for our lungs, now that they had fed it clothes and coconuts and delicacies and rice. And we all ran. And we ran like we would run to save our lives from that very fire that could very well burn us and the world grey. And we were to wait while it happened.
The wait was small. Hardly more than a minute or lesser. They said that he was a fast one, the holy master that came to the little house in Maragadhapuram. He but relished what he could in that little time that everyone was outside and left for his abode some place in the village or beyond before anyone could spot him.
We rushed in like a pack of hungry wolves to catch a glimpse of the miracle; the unmistakable imprint of his right hand on the mountain of boiled rice that they had laid out for him in the middle of the room. And they started singing and howling through their tongues. Yes! It had happened! It had happened! Aandavar had answered! He had! Oh he had blessed us all! They all pushed and pulled at each other to see what would be a blessing par deification! I rushed through a good many uncles and aunties that I had not known before the night before when my father told me who they were as they talked through the night about tracing their roots and old trees and houses. They all wondered and made promises into the air that they would all learn to keep in touch and stay together as a family. But the fact remained that the canopy was too big to cast a shadow at one place; and meet and talk and pride in being watered by the very same roots. But as the smoke was aired after the ritual, relations and promises were aired too. And poof; they would fly into the air, lost with the day.
A couple of these uncles helped me with what I could not see otherwise. “Look there! Do you see? It’s right there!” I couldn't see. I wondered where it was. "There!Right there!", said another.
"Oh!", I lied and wondered, as the crowd dispersed and the room was aired.
And today, as I sit and wonder, I wonder why I did not see. How blind was I? It was right there!
The wait was small. Hardly more than a minute or lesser. They said that he was a fast one, the holy master that came to the little house in Maragadhapuram. He but relished what he could in that little time that everyone was outside and left for his abode some place in the village or beyond before anyone could spot him.
We rushed in like a pack of hungry wolves to catch a glimpse of the miracle; the unmistakable imprint of his right hand on the mountain of boiled rice that they had laid out for him in the middle of the room. And they started singing and howling through their tongues. Yes! It had happened! It had happened! Aandavar had answered! He had! Oh he had blessed us all! They all pushed and pulled at each other to see what would be a blessing par deification! I rushed through a good many uncles and aunties that I had not known before the night before when my father told me who they were as they talked through the night about tracing their roots and old trees and houses. They all wondered and made promises into the air that they would all learn to keep in touch and stay together as a family. But the fact remained that the canopy was too big to cast a shadow at one place; and meet and talk and pride in being watered by the very same roots. But as the smoke was aired after the ritual, relations and promises were aired too. And poof; they would fly into the air, lost with the day.
A couple of these uncles helped me with what I could not see otherwise. “Look there! Do you see? It’s right there!” I couldn't see. I wondered where it was. "There!Right there!", said another.
"Oh!", I lied and wondered, as the crowd dispersed and the room was aired.
And today, as I sit and wonder, I wonder why I did not see. How blind was I? It was right there!
Comments
and oh, long sentences. didn't EPC teach u anything? :P