by Sudipta Das
“While certain effects of this colour conditioning are immensely beneficial, others are equally devastating. It’s most ill effect is the fragmentation of the Hoo race into these numerous colours and their innumerable sub-colours, hues and shades. The apparent and external differences of the colours have further aggravated this fragmentation, which has taken the ugly shape of the inter colour conflicts.”
7
The Work
As I have already written, when we had first reached the green patch in the Violet Land, we were compelled to survive with whatever we could scavenge in and around the hamlet. We knew that this scavenging would not sustain us in the long run. So, soon after arriving at the hamlet, Kit and I started cultivating a piece of the fertile land.
The Hoos are a technologically far advanced race than the humans. But, the tools that Kit and I were using now looked primitive even by human standards. We had to manage with whatever small implements were available. The works were tedious and laborious.
Everything on that land was so strange. Even the air smelt strange, though soothing. Kit had told me that it was the smell of the leaves of the plants that we cultivated. In the beginning, I had to focus a lot even to do the most ordinary of tasks. Things, which I had automatically performed on Earth, had to be thought out before those could be executed on Hoola. I often consulted Kit and later on, Ket regarding the daily chores. Moreover, I was about fifty-six and became easily exhausted. They, on the other hand, were in their self-terrain, like fish in water. Also, Kit had been rejuvenated back to his
mid-thirties. His reunion with Ket had filled him with such invigorating joy that made him ten times stronger than an average Hoo. He readily and happily bore much of the burden of the labour. He is such a jolly good fellow. Sometimes, he cheerfully hummed these wonderful Hoo romantic songs to himself while working.
All along, in spite of doing the lion’s share of the chores that were at hand, Kit, somehow, managed some time every day for alignment and continued his work with the vision of harmony of the race. His aphorism was ‘One Hoola and one Hoo race’.
I had read in Kit’s diary, written while he was in our asylum, that, Kit had already realised several Colour Deities including the Violet Deity, the violet manifestation of the one and only Supreme Being, while he was in captivity in Inthad. There were about three hundred colour countries of all shades and hues on Hoola but none of them was violet. Violet was traditionally thought to be the forbidden colour. Now Kit had busted that myth. He revealed the wonderful and auspicious aspects of the Violet Deity.
But, with great resolve and wisdom, he consciously controlled the temptation to become an Originator and refrained from formulating the Violet colour, which would add another colour to the already existing plethora of colours mutually competing for exclusive supremacy. He realised that the Hoo race was already divided enough by the colours. The colours were to serve, in their respective ways, their purpose of aligning the Hoo spirit towards the truth of the Supreme. However, due to their diverse approaches to the Absolute Truth, the colours often evoked colour conflicts, the single greatest cause of feuds, genocides, battles and wars. Augmenting one more ‘name’, ‘form’ and ‘colour’ would only aggravate the division of the Hoo race.
Kit realised that something else was the call of the hour; something that would bring home and demonstrate the inherent harmony among the apparently different colours.
Kit’s enormous heart melted with such piety and compassion for the entire Hoo race. The fluid pumped up and came out through his eyes in the form of a colourless, saline and degenerative liquid. With this liquid, he aspired to draw a vibrant and colourful picture potent with the forces of harmony and leave an indelible mark in the collective Hoo psyche of the race.
One day, I overheard Kit earnestly pray, “O Lord, the task before me is so enormous that I find myself humbled. Every aspect of my being seems so average that, looking at myself, I sometimes wonder, how average, average can be? But, everything that You have given me, I put forth at Your service. Use me, use me the way You like and please do not consider what may happen to me. O my kindest Lord, just let me do your work.”
Looking skywards, he often absent-mindedly murmured the following words to himself.
“O the Supreme,
Set me in Thy eternal note and
Let me awaken all in this world,
Pouring in Thy immortal love.”
Praying thus, Kit proceeded to propound his realisation of the great theory of harmony that lies behind the colours. In the Hoo language, Kit means servant to the Supreme. True to his name, Kit plunged himself in the inspired service to the Supreme Being with such selfless dedication and zeal.
8
The Ancient Stone-tablets
Meanwhile, Sook and Soor have been growing up merrily. Although they seldom complained about anything, the scopes for their entertainment at the hamlet were rather limited. Hoo children, elsewhere on technologically advanced Hoola, had a fantastic array of games and shows for their amusements. Kit sometimes took the family on outings into the mazy rugged wilderness of the Violet Land beyond the periphery of the green patch. He wanted to playfully acquaint the kids with the realities of the Violet Land while they had a nice time. At times, I also joined these picnic parties.
The other day, we planned to visit the Forbidden River at the foot of the Forbidden Mountain. The kids were thrilled. Tit-bits and refreshments were packed. After having our breakfast that morning, we set off towards the horizon, above which, hovered Let. We reached there well before Let reached the zenith. Kit carefully selected a vantage-point for our camp. The view of the landscape was simply spectacular, just as Kit had described in his diary. Before us was the sandy bed of the, now dried up, Forbidden River embellished with spear-shaped, crystalline stones pointed upwards. In the violet light of Let, those crystalline stones sparkled creating an illusion of waves and ripples. Beyond the river bed, the magnificent Forbidden Mountain rose up to the sky almost like a straight wall. Ket said to the kids, “Beyond this mountain is Inthad, the blue colour country where I was born.”
Kit pointed to the peak of the mountain and said, “There, Ket and I reunited.” Then he turned to Ket and exchanged affectionate smiles.
The kids were very happy. We watched them from the camp at what might have been the bank of the river a long time ago. They delightfully roamed about on the river bed at a distance and played with the diamond-like crystals. Soor hummed this beautiful tune breaking into the utter silence of the place and adding to the experience of the breathtaking beauty of the surroundings.
After about an hour or so, the kids came back to us running, first Sook, followed by Soor. They were holding some objects in their hands. Sook handed over a tile-like object to Kit and said, “Look Pa, what I have found!”
Ket and I watched as Kit carefully turned and examined the opaque, almost square shaped stone-tablet broken slantingly at one side. Then Soor gave him a similar piece and animatedly said, “I have found this.”
Kit intuitively held the broken slanting sides of the two pieces together. Those matched perfectly forming a rectangular shape of about two feet by one foot. Kit held the one inch thick stone tablet before us and said, “This is striking. These stones do not belong to this place. All the natural stones found here are transparent crystals. Somebody must have brought these here.”
Then he gently placed the tablet on the ground and wiped off the dust from its surface with his furry tail. Now there were even more surprises. We found almost faded away unknown scripts inscribed on the tablet. Kit excitedly said, “These are the ancient scriptures of this region. These stone-tablets must be at least three thousand years old. At around that time, this ancient language had become extinct. It has certain similarities to our present Hoo language of the region. I shall try to read these. If I am guessing right, then there must be more such stones here. These stones have an unknown story to tell. It will be great if I can find the full story.”
Indeed, Kit’s guess was right. After searching the place for another couple of hours we found two more such stone-tablets. Thus, thanks to Sook and Soor, our fun-filled outing, accidentally, ended up in an interesting ‘find’. We left our camp intact to mark the site of the find and came back to our hamlet with the stone-tablets.
Thereafter, Kit devoted most of his spare time to the tablets. He visited the site several times. He excavated many places at and around the site and recovered many more such inscribed ancient stone-tablets. We were intrigued to know why he was so much engrossed in the stones. But, knowing him, we knew that he knew what he was doing. After months of painstakingly working with the tablets, Kit was able to decipher the ancient scriptures and make out the full story that the stones had to tell. In fact, it turned out to be a crucial piece of lost Hoo history of this region on Hoola; a fascinating history that would subsequently prove to be immensely significant to the estranged relations between Inthad and Isthad.
Kit told us, “I do not know who recorded these truths on the stones. But someone who wanted to suppress these truths must have thrown the stone tablets into the Forbidden River when it was full of water. We may never know who it was or what its motives were but its ploy has surely been foiled now. Truth has this uncanny habit of opening, sooner or later. All of Hoola, particularly, Inthad and Isthad, must know these truths. We have to prepare to go to Isthad.”
“Wouldn’t it be risky? You are not very popular there,” observed Ket.
“We have to take the risk for a higher cause. We will go to Nik’s hamlet in Isthad,” affirmed Kit. Such is his nature; always ready to sacrifice for the sake of others.
9
Going to Nik, the wise,
in Isthad
The Violet Land is situated between Isthad and Inthad. The green pasture, on which our hamlet is located, is towards the eastern side of the Violet Land bordering Inthad. Isthad is beyond the western side of the Land. It would take about fifteen days to reach there. I had read in Kit’s diary that, years ago, he had developed the inner sight necessary to navigate the bewildering maze of the Violet Land beyond our pasture. He had led a caravan in this path to Isthad and had left a trail of marks along the way. Now we were to retrace that trail.
Accordingly, we packed adequate food, water and provisions to comfortably reach Nik’s hamlet in the red colour country, Isthad. I helped Kit build two four-wheeled carts with the supple and easy to use bem wood. In addition to carrying the necessities, the carts could also sit the kids if and when they got tired. We could not carry all the stone-tablets that Kit had recovered. So, Kit carefully selected a few of those that had critically important inscriptions on them. We put the remaining tablets in a room in my hut to preserve and protect those from the effects of the elements.
Thus, one fine evening, we started our journey towards the west in the soothing light of Tin. It’s amazing, how we get attached to our surroundings. The humble hamlet had witnessed the beginning of a new life together for Kit and Ket. Their children, Sook and Soor were born and brought up in its lap. Until that point in time, the kids had never been beyond the areas surrounding the green pasture. Now, for the first time, they were to see the outside world, which they had only heard about.
We crossed a hillock at the western rim of the green pasture and soon lost sight of the hamlet at the eastern horizon behind us. Then the realities of the Violet Land took over our attention. Indeed, like a huge maze, it appeared to be the same in every direction. Many of the marks of the earlier trail had become obscure. Keeping the direction right in that terrain was almost impossible. It was easy to get lost in that maze. We depended entirely on Kit’s ability to navigate through that mazy terrain.
We trekked during night and rested at day. At the morning of the fifteenth day, for the first time, I saw Let in its red manifestation. Everything appeared reddish in that predominantly red light. We were relieved and happy to have reached Isthad. Kit said to me, “Doctor, this is my colour country of birth.”
For fourteen days we had been practically walking and resting under the open sky. It was getting hard on the kids. We wanted to reach the shelter of Nik’s hamlet early. So, on that day, after resting for a while we continued our journey a bit towards the north, as directed by Kit.
We reached Nik’s hamlet by afternoon. From a distance, the hamlet looked exactly like Kit had described it in his diary; a dozen minimalistic huts among a few trees with lanes in between. It had striking resemblance with our own hamlet in the Violet Land. I recalled that both the hamlets were built by the same folk.
I could imagine that Nik’s hamlet would be full of activity of the rural folk who lived there. The males would take their herd of domesticated animals, the bovs, to the pastures and cultivate the surrounding lands. The domestic chores would mainly be done by the females. Their children would merrily play in the open and grow up in the lap of nature. They would sell their surplus produce in the nearby town and buy their provisions from there.
But, as we approached the hamlet, it became gradually clear to us that the hamlet was a deserted place now. The huts looked unkempt and a few of those, which were towards the Violet Land, were in a somewhat dilapidated state. Kit told us, “These huts must have been damaged by the harsh winds that blow from the Violet Land.”
He led us through the lanes and stopped before a small hut facing south located at the western part of the hamlet. He paused and took a closer look at the low entrance door of the hut.
“This must be Nik’s hut,” guessed Ket.
Kit slowly turned to her, nodded and said, “Let’s check it out.”
It was apparent that the hut was unoccupied. Still, Kit knocked at the entrance door. As expected, no one answered to the knock. Then, Kit gently pushed the door. The door was ajar and readily gave way with a shrill sound of the hinge. One by one, we followed Kit and stepped onto the dusty floor inside the hut. Inside, we found Nik’s cot, his armchair and a few other household articles. From their condition it was clear that no one had used those for years. As we were contemplating what to do next and where to go, Sook pointed out that there was something written in darker ink on the, now grey, wall above the cot. It read, Meet me at Neoton four kilometres north-west from here- Nik.
It took us another hour to reach Neoton. A Hoola hour is longer than an hour on Earth. By then Let was approaching the horizon and preparing to set. Neoton turned out to be quite a bustling city with all the amenities of a well-planned city life but everything was quite unlike anything I had ever seen anywhere on Earth. There were wide streets crossing each other at right angles, huge sky-scraping buildings and, most amazingly, strange looking cars quietly moving and even flying in every direction. I was agape with awe at the height of their technology. Sook and Soor were pretty amused too. This was the first time they came across a city. A few pedestrians, clad in their strange but stylish attires, curiously looked at our rather simplistic dresses and the primitive looking bem wood carts in which we were carrying our remaining provisions and the historic stone-tablets. As they came nearer, Kit asked them, “Could you please direct us to the residence of Nik, the wise? That is how his folks called him.”
The youngsters among the group burst into laughter.
“What’s so amusing?” firmly enquired Ket.
Then an elderly Hoo came forward and said, “You seem to be coming from some remote place. This is a city of hundreds of thousands. There may be hundreds of Niks, wise or fool, living here. How can we guide you if you do not have the complete address?”
Thus the group went away. We realised the problem we were in. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Let was about to set. We were exhausted and needed a shelter to spend the night. We desperately looked for any civic office for help. We passed by a few more blocks. Then, a miracle happened. Before we noticed it, a gorgeous looking car came from the opposite direction and pulled up by us. Two Hoo boys in their late teens came out of the car. They were neatly dressed i
n red stripped uniforms and held learning gadgets in their hands. Apparently, they were returning home from their school. The boys jubilantly came towards Kit. At first, Kit did not understand what they were up to. Then, one of the teens said to him, “We noticed you from a distance as you looked like the people of our old hamlet. Coming nearer we recognised you, Kit. Do you remember, when we were kids, we lived at the green pasture in the Violet Land? You brought us back to Isthad.”
“Who are you? How do you know my name?” exclaimed Kit.
Now the other teen said, “Don’t you remember, you told us fabulous stories and sometimes played with us? I am Pin.”
Then the former teen said, “I am Fin.”
Hearing this, Kit joyously said, “O Pin, hey Fin, you have grown up so much. I could not recognise you.” Then he introduced us to the teens and said to them, “We have come all the way from the green pasture to see you and meet Nik, the wise.”
“Nik, the wise, and his brother, Mik, are the heads of Neoton now,” said Pin.
Thereafter, the teens made a few conversations over their audio-video wrist gadgets and quickly arranged a couple of cars for us. We abandoned the carts and boarded the cars along with our belongings and the stone-tablets. Nik and Mik warmly welcomed us in their lush official apartment in the 72nd floor of a hundred storey building in the central business district of Neoton. They were quite aged and looked identical with long white beards but hardly any hair on their hemispherical heads. They were about five and a half feet tall and wrinkled-faced. There was nostalgia galore. Nik said, “I always hoped that you would come back one day. That is why I wrote those words on the wall of my hut. Thanks to Istha that, now you are back.”