A Tale of Two Indians by Maharshi Patel

Author:Maharshi Patel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperVantage
Published: 2012-06-02T00:00:00+00:00

Some weeks later, Bhogi was walking down the street. He saw an old blind man who was waiting to cross to the other side. Bhogi walked up to him and said, ‘Dadaji, hold my hand. I will take you across to the other side.’ The old man thanked him for his kindness.

When they reached the other side, the man turned and said, ‘Thank you, dear son. May the gods watch over you and bless you.’

Bhogi gave an irate snort in response and said, ‘Thanks Dadaji, but I don’t think I’ll ever be counting on their fickle help.’

‘Why do you hate the gods so much, Son? Do you think they have done you an injustice?’

‘Yes, and a great deal too.’

The old man asked Bhogi to take him to a bench and said that if Bhogi wanted to talk about it, he would listen. Not having anything else to do that day, Bhogi agreed.

He began, ‘Well Dadaji, my mother was very ill in Dangarva. We had the medicine and the doctor to save her, and we went to the village. The rain, however, flooded the roads. Our jeep got caught in the mud and it took a day and a half to complete a three-hour journey. My mother died in the meanwhile.’

The old man softly chuckled. This angered Bhogi. ‘Oh, so you find my misfortune funny, do you? What kind of a pervert are you?’

The old man, still chuckling, said, ‘No Son, I am not laughing at your misfortune. I am laughing because a long time ago, I was exactly like you.’

Bhogi responded, ‘Well, you’ve obviously changed since then. What made you revert to the tomfoolery that is religion?’

‘When I was just a few years older than you, I lived in a village with my parents. One day, my father had to go on a train to the city. It was the monsoon season. He forgot his bag at home, so I was sent on my bicycle to take it to him.

‘On the way back, it started raining. My cycle got stuck in the mud, so I had to walk the rest of the way. By the time I reached, my father had missed his train and had to take one the next day. That train derailed in the middle of its journey. The largest body part they found of my father was his forearm, with his rudrakash still tied across it.

‘Just like you, I was livid at the gods. Had it not rained that day, I would have reached with my father’s bag and he would have boarded the train that day; not the doomed one the day after. I cursed the gods for the next three years, until I finally met a man who told me what I am about to tell you.’

Bhogi was intrigued. ‘What did he tell you?’

‘He asked me to look around the village and tell him what most of the people did for a living,’ the old man continued. ‘I told him that they were all farmers.

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