The Mother’s Pain

 

 

 

A slight chill in the morning air is all that the weather is offering to denote the change of seasons. The rest of the day is hot and humid with clouds not yet ready to depart. The Met office has predicted more rainy days. Perhaps, the Rain God, too, wants to savour the taste of ‘Navratri’. Perhaps He, too, is mesmerised by the grandeurs of the celebrations. Perhaps, He too, wants to have a look at Mother Goddess’ beautiful face carved by human devotion. He, too, wants to touch the Mother’s feet. He, too, wants to join the festive nights of celebration and swirl a little playing garba. Going by the verve with which it has bathed the earth with almost so much of motherly zeal, Rain could be a Goddess for all you know?! If so, it would be only natural for ‘her’ to want to partake in celebrations, dress for the occasion and join the festivities. The bottom line is that Mother is here.

 

 

Rain may or may not be around, showers of Her blessings definitely are. But this Navratri, Mother may have also felt that She has descended upon an even more queer world. As Her procession proceeds with great pomp and show and loudest of all music, She, the Mother, could also hear the raised heartbeats of the birds hiding on the trees. Earlier, when human footprints were not this big, their chirping was the most beautiful music heard on the earth. She looks at the tall buildings growing taller, expansive roads getting broader, vehicles getting bigger and humans getting fatter - prosperity all the way. The Mother’s heart skips a beat. She is worried for Her children. At the beginning of life, She had given them the bare minimum, so that they learn to grow on their own.

 

Though, strong legs and arms, a beating heart and a mind with unending capacity to evolve can hardly be termed as bare minimum, these were what the Mother had given to Her children, along with, of course, a beautiful world full of abundance. In it, they were meant to thrive. Oh, they have thrived and how! They and their belongings are everywhere as if they are the only occupants of this beautiful house. Their expansive road, broader and broader ever, is still too thin to accommodate their vehicles. Their buildings taller and taller are hiding the sun. (If only they understand what a hidden sun can do to their own existence.) The air, which once carried a fragrance of beauty and freshness, somehow smells swollen with grief. There is grief, too much of it, the Mother feels. Prosperity and grief, what an idiotic mix-up! With some pain in Her heart, the Mother admits – “They are idiots.” Their leaders are but politicians thriving in the desire for more.

 

The most powerful man - a very powerful leader of the most powerful country on earth, says he and his country have been wronged?!!! - by those who comparatively wield little power?!! There are wars raging everywhere and they are talking trade. Mother Earth, too, is in an unforgiving mood, but they are talking trade. Angry rivers are breaching mountains to unleash their wrath, but they are talking trade!!! In this heaven-like world of abundance, the desire for more is eating up on the happiness of enough. There are crowds everywhere. Crowds with anxious faces. They want… and so they are standing in long queues. Very long queues. There are very long queues outside megastores in most cities. They say, they are waiting for the latest iPhone. It is a great luxury. A big deal. Far away in a city of rubbles, little children with empty bowls in their hands are being told to form a queue. These children, in Gaza, are too hungry to follow the niceties of forming a queue to have little food. Humanity, this! Idiots! Wherever the Mother looks, she sees the idiocy of pretense. Oh! Humans! They know it all and yet pretend they know nothing. They know nothing and yet they pretend they know it all. That pretense is growing taller, broader, bigger and fatter. Oh! Humans! As She is escorted into the very majestic pandal, She hears her invocation. ‘Sarva Mangala Mangalye, Shive Sarvartha Sadhike Sharanye Trayambike Gauri, Narayani Namostute.’ Do they understand what that means? That their Mother is the most auspicious of all auspiciousness; that She fulfills all desires; that She protects all who seek her refuge - their three-eyed Mother Gauri to whom they bow in utmost devotion. With so much hope, She had put Her own grain in mankind, so that they in their own small way demonstrate that She, the Mother, is present in them all. That they are auspicious too; that they, too, can fulfill all desires, if they know how to control their own; that they too can protect, once they realise what is it that is worth protecting…. So, this Navratri, Oh Mother! Bless your children, not with abundance (for they are already fighting for it), but with the wisdom of restraint; not with the desire for more and more, but with the kindness to settle for less; not with prosperity but with harmony. Oh Mother! Take away our idiocy. Bless humanity with humility, so that we reflect Your grace. …Narayani Namostute. n