by Nisha Singh
Out of the blue, it started blowing hard outside and it looked as if there was a storm coming. A strong gust of wind danced inside the house and catching Neelu’s hair, undid the bun that she had made lightly, almost covering her face in a shock of thick, black hair and she did nothing to remove it from her face. Her cold, stony eyes and the wild hair flapping about her face was giving her the appearance of a woman possessed and I shrank back a little, my nerves slightly frayed.
‘So, on Pundit ji’s advice, I started the process of removing the source of my grief. My first thought was to wait for her to leave for good. I thought that once she would leave the village, I would be at peace and one of her close friends told me that she was making her mind to return to the city and hence I was hopeful but…but…that day…’
‘What…what happened that day?’ Bhrigu asked at once.
‘I was going to the shop that day and…and I saw her…I saw her at the shop shamelessly talking and laughing with my husband. She looked like the devil herself, who had come to steal my husband and he…he was looking at her, hypnotized…enchanted…I decided then and there that I…I had only one way to get rid of my problem and that was to kill evil for good.’
‘Oh Neelu! What are you saying?!’ cried Manjunath, who had hitherto been listening to the narrative like a paralyzed man. ‘It was for the very first time that Savita had visited me to thank me for being a good friend to her at the time of her need. That’s all. The poor woman was suffering greatly, didn’t you know?’
‘She was suffering because she was evil.’ Neelu hissed like a snake. ‘She was educated; cultured but what good is education alone when it does nothing to hone your character? At first, I was jealous of her…of her upbringing but…later on…I realized for what she actually was. And…and that attend as much as you want any number of fancy colleges, no one could teach you morality. You…you were smitten by her beauty…by her polished tongue but you foolish man! You could never see her for what she actually was. So blinded were you by her many dangerous charms.’ She took a sharp breath and then said in a terrifying voice, ‘So I killed evil. I…I lay in wait for her when she was making her way to the army man’s house. As soon as I saw her, I took the biggest stone lying around and badgered her to death! And…and then I threw the stone in the Palua pond! There you have it!’ She cried like a mad woman. ‘I have vanquished evil and I am proud of myself…I am proud of myself for it! I have achieved the true purpose of my existence and I am proud of it! You can hang me for it but I am proud of it!’
Neelu was laughing like a maniac and her hair, caught in the wind was flowing wildly behind her. At that moment, she actually looked like the incarnation of Goddess Kali who was celebrating after spearing the heart of a demon. The very next moment, she dropped to the ground and fainted.
‘Her last refuge turned out to be a lost refuge.’ Bhrigu said, grimly looking at the unconscious figure of the troubled woman as I heard the painful siren of a police jeep heading in our direction.
CHAPTER 41
A Second
Parichay
Inspector Chandu Srivastava had come with his cavalcade that included a female hawaldar to arrest the culprit but on Bhrigu’s insistence, she was to be taken to a hospital first and a case of insanity was to be presented by the defense in a court of law that would reprieve the woman from spending a lifetime in jail. Bhrigu had explained to the inspector that the woman needed care if she stood any chance of preventing a permanent mental breakdown. The inspector had graciously accepted all that my friend requested of him.
We took a lift in the police jeep to get to one of the four temples where Parichay Mishra was the presiding Pundit. Bhrigu asked for the vehicle to be pulled to a side, inconspicuously, so that our quarry was not forewarned.
‘Please wait here, sir.’ said my friend after we had alighted from the jeep. ‘I will go and speak to the man casually and try to understand more clearly how he is brainwashing the troubled. I am very much sure that there are many who are still in his firm grip. This is a very sensitive matter and it would be well advised to be more careful. If I do not give you a missed call, then please do not come to the temple. I will meet you here after the interview.’
‘Alright, sir.’ said the inspector. ‘But are you sure you are safe with the man? He is well-connected and by now he must have heard through his sources that Neelu has been taken into custody for homicide. He must be on his guard and people like him are the most dangerous when they are scared, you know. The moment he smells a rat he would try to hurt you.’
‘I know this, inspector, and thanks for your concern.’ said my friend with a smile. ‘But I know how to handle such matters. It falls completely under my area of expertise and where I am most comfortable working. You need not worry at all.’
The inspector looked doubtful but he accepted the wishes of my friend and parked the jeep under a low hanging branch of a tree of some species I did not know. My friend and I then made our way to our destination on foot.
The temple site was pretty much the same as we had last seen it. It was bursting at its seams with devotees scattered thickly in every possible direction. I could see that all the food stalls had been almost swallowed by the crowd and as the mud trail ended, leaving us on the site ground, I could see a long line of devotees outside the two temples and although the line moved quasi-statically, it kept growing longer as more and more devotees joined it. The sound of temple bells was heard as consistently as the ticking of the clock and there was this thick smell of incense almost anywhere you went.
‘Do you really think that this man has got anything to do with what happened?’ I asked, as we rushed past the crowd, trying our best not to fall to the ground as that would mean getting crushed to death under a million feet.
‘Yes.’ he replied, raising his voice over the hum of humanity. ‘He pushed her to take that step. Neelu was dissatisfied with her married life, true. She was suffering, true. But she is the kind of woman who is blessed with a tremendous power of tolerance. She had tolerated everything for the sake of her family and she would have done so till the very end; but for this man. He played on her insecurities and fears and look what has happened. I don’t know what he wants or why he is doing this and that’s exactly what I intend to find out.’
‘But Neelu had said that she was feeling miserable.’ I said. ‘She was thinking of hurting herself. Maybe he was just trying to help her so that she would not take any drastic step.’
‘And how do you know for sure that this man was not the reason that she was feeling so miserable?’ he replied, dodging a man who had bend over to straighten his Kurta. ‘Think for yourself, Sutte. Neelu has been married for fifteen years. She was holding just fine until recently. What happened in her otherwise placid life to change her so? He turned her into someone she never was and could never be without outside influence. He made her realize how worthless a life she was living by making compromises and I quote her- “By putting my needs at last.” He put those doubts in her. He forced her to survey her condition. Of this I am confirmed. I just want to know why? What was his personal gain?’
We were now almost at the gate of the temple where stood a hefty security guard who was frisking the males before they entered the inner sanctum. We were about to enter when he asked- ‘Hello? Where are you going? You are not in the queue.’
‘Get in the line first!’ shouted a man who was at the helm of the line. ‘I had to wait my turn for three hours and you think you can just bypass me and get in?’
‘Excuse me, sir.’ Bhrigu said to the security guard. ‘I am a friend of Pundit Parichay Mishra. I was about to leave the town so I thought of paying him a visit. Please, can you give him this message?’
The guard took our names and then passed it on to a man who hurried inside. We had to wait for twenty minutes when the same man came running outside and said to the guard. ‘Please send them inside! Pundit ji will see
them now!’
We entered ahead of the enraged man who was still in the queue and looked as if he would eat us alive. Inside, the atmosphere was exactly as we had seen the last time we were here. Although, I noticed that the crowd was a bit thicker and the smell of incense was so heavy upon the air that I could almost feel it physically. The man who had come to call us at the behest of Parichay Mishra, lead us to an ante chamber across the portal of which there was drawn a big yellow curtain with the small, italicized words of ‘Jai Shree Krishna’ covering it entirely.
‘Pundit ji is holding a session inside.’ informed the man, flaunting his yellow, mottled teeth. His red tongue was a testament to the fact that he was an avid Paan eater.
‘Session?’ I asked. ‘What session? The Puja is conducted in the other direction. We have been here before and so we know.’
‘Pundit ji conducts Puja only on Saturdays when we organize a Langar. Other wise he either takes his sessions or sits in his corner and read.’
‘But what is this session?’ I asked, again.
‘He gives sermons every Monday, Friday and Sunday. Devotees, who wish to participate, start filing outside the hall as early as 5 a.m. You see, the place has its capacity and as soon as the hall is full, we do not let anyone inside. Today is a Monday afternoon and hence Pundit ji is giving his sermon. Today’s topic is “The Power of a Woman” Each sermon has a different topic, you see. Last week Pundit ji preached on “Positive Conflicts.” People love his insight and what they call his rene…rene…’ he struggled, ‘Ah yes. His “renegade opinions” They say that he looks like God himself, when he stands on that pedestal. Some even say that they have almost seen a halo around his head; a divine light, while he preaches. He is a favorite with the local and national media too. They keep having a debate on his views.’
‘Really?’ said Bhrigu with an innocent smile. ‘Then can you secure us a seat in the hall? We want to behold his miracle too.’
‘Sure…sure.’ replied the man, giving us another of his toothy grin. ‘You are good friends of Pundit ji and that I knew that as soon as the mere mention of your name made him turn sharply in my direction and order me to bring you to him respectfully. He wanted you to wait till the end of the sermon but seeing that you want to hear him, I will arrange for it.’ Saying this, he took us into the hall and provided us with two wooden chairs to sit with the important people on the platform, close to where Parichay Mishra was speaking with a mike in his hand. The hall was full with people; villagers and tourists alike, sitting cross legged on the mat and listening to the man with rapt attention. A few foreigners where also present in the crowd and they had mixed with the villagers as easily as milk with water. Some understood Hindi and the rest had come with their own translator. Parichay Mishra gave us the fleetest of glance and without acknowledging us in anyway, continued-
‘…is the way it was before and still is. But how many have realized it? If we could only see what we try with all our might to suppress, we could have evolved much more than what we are now. She has so many hidden powers that are latent; dormant inside her which only a catastrophe or a life threatening situation forces to the surface. Otherwise, it is there, simmering and boiling and aching to find a vent. Ask yourself, when you were insecure, unhappy, weak or vulnerable, who did you turn to for support? Your father or your mother? The answer will be very clear to you. He has always been hailed as a supporting figure; a person who gives the family name and foundation but is that not a lie perpetrated by him to safeguard his dominance over the family? He is scared because once his children see his weaknesses, they will not value him and hence he resorts to one thing that he knows best. Subjugation. He uses force to prove that his wife is his inferior and the wife, thinking it as her duty, feeds that lie so much so that one day we grow up believing those everyday lies to be true; believing that the father was the one who kept us going. We are all playing a part in perpetrating this lie; this myth, the women included. Why? because she is evolved enough to understand that what he lacks, he can only make up through brute force and of that she is scared, not of his physical strength, mind you, but the sheer weakness which comes with it. Tender and sensitive that she is, she loves her husband and worships him as she does everyone and everything that’s dear to her heart and hence she does not want any harm to come to him and so she is quite. That’s how intelligent she is.’
There was a thunderous applause from the women in the crowd but I could see that only a few men participated in it. I could see that many had scowls on their faces and looked as if they were struggling with indigestion.
‘You ask me why I am revealing this truth to you when I, myself, am a man. What good would it do me? Well, when I preach, I speak only the truth. I am a vessel of God and he speaks through me; laboring to show his flock the right destination to salvation; to evolution. I am telling you, my dear devotees, that before you come to this temple and bow before Lord Krishna, you first go and touch the feet of the woman in your house and take her blessings. For if she is a true woman, she has God in her. Venerate before her and let her unlock that miraculous potential in her that would solve all our troubles. Or else, my dear devotees, you are marked for destruction through confusion and ignorance.’
Again a resounding applause and this time the men too, joined in but reluctantly. This man had clearly won the heart of the females in the crowd who looked so radiant that the ancient hall rippled with the reflection of their many, brilliant smiles.
‘With this, this sermon comes to an end. You can find the details in our monthly newsletter- “Shakti.” On Friday, we will discuss the remaining of “Positive Conflicts.” Please inform the ones present on that day to come again to conclude the discussion. New devotees can join too. I will be recapitulating the points that I made that day.’
He stepped down from the pedestal and the crowd noisily got to its feet to leave through the door that had been opened a crack, at the back of the hall, by a security guard. There was a lot of excited chatter as the crowd shifted in the hall; the words of the Pundit still echoing in their ears and finding an expression in the next person who was ready to hear them. The women, on the other hand, had made their own little groups of three and four and were talking at the top of their lungs; laughing and occasionally eyeing the men with utter disdain. The security guard had to shout twice before they formed something close to a queue and filed out of the room.
Pundit Parichay Mishra was encircled by the important guests who had been sitting on the platform, opposite us, listening to the lecture. They had held onto their dignity and had tried their best to not betray a single emotion but seeing that it was an all male group, it was a pretty hard battle to begin with. One among them, a morose looking septuagenarian, had, at one time, coughed so loudly that his secretary had to rush to his aide with panic written large on his thin face. This dignified albeit rattled group was now pestering the Pundit with their questions; holding him for a debate of their own and the man had a hard time extricating himself from under their vapid tongues.
‘Mr. Bhrigu Mahesh, right?’ he said, as he joined us when we were making our way to the inner sanctum of the temple as was required of the people who had presided on the precious platform. This was the brain-stroke of the management of the temple to prevent these dignitaries from mixing their royal selves with that of the proletariat.
‘Yes.’ replied my friend. ‘I couldn’t recognize you up on that pedestal. You had transformed completely.’
‘I hope in a good way.’ he said, his slow movements now getting the better of him. ‘Did you like the discussion? I think you have your own views on the subject?’
‘I don’t have much in the way of views, sir. I just observe what I see.’ replied my friend with a smile. ‘It is up to important people like you to have opinions.’
‘You are now being sarcastic.’ replied Parichay Mishra, looking at my friend with a half smile. The man who had escorted us
to the hall came running with a help, bearing three chairs. He neatly arranged them at a secluded corner of the great temple that smelled of mud, incense and camphor and then vanished round the corner. On his way, he gingerly picked up a plastic packet of Potato chips that some one had been faithless enough to drop.
When we had been comfortably seated, Bhrigu asked ‘I could have never guessed when I last met you that you were such a celebrity. I thought that the imitation robes that I saw devotees wearing at the railway station was just a coincidence. Nobody told me about your passionate lectures and the way they are capturing the mind of this country.’
‘I never asked for the media or the attention.’ he replied. ‘I have discovered that publicity and original thought go hand and hand. All I ever wanted was to connect with the people and talk to them about the problems they are plagued with every day. I sincerely believe that what we face, ultimately leads to the improvement of our race as with problems comes challenges and with challenges comes the resolve to solve them. Each new resolve is a step towards our evolution as it removes the obstacles of ignorance and takes us into the light. The only thing lacking is a platform from where these problems of humanity can be stated vocally and solutions are arrived at sooner than later. That would give us an impetus to move in the right direction by filling us with all those wonderful resolves.’
‘So, are you suggesting that this is one way that we can come to know ourselves? Who we are? Is this your idea of our evolution?’ Bhrigu asked, looking interested.