The one-eyed ascetic who used to carry a wormhole on his shoulder

It was during the time of our half yearly examination in school when the days used to close their shutter too early and the nights stretched like a warm blanket, covering us completely from head to toe. During morning, I would sit on a cot in the veranda with my back to the sun and read black ink lines on white pages under the shadow of my face. I was occupied with solving the greatest common factor between three big numbers while the marigold flowers shed white drops of dew collected on its pores from previous night. The numbers were too large for my head and I had written down all possible prime numbers to be a factor of those huge numbers and was thinking that one of the big number might itself be a prime number making the answer to be 1 and none other than the one as the greatest common factor of these large numbers.

At that moment, a distinct voice came from the street
"rupa rekha nahin hey sunya dehi
accha ude hoi"
(can be loosely translated as Oh empty one, you have neither shape nor size
but you are present here like the sun).

I raised my chin and looked outside our compound through the thorns of babool tree placed to restrict the visits of unwanted street dogs and animals. As the song amplified, I was drawn towards the door and I saw him entering our house. He stopped singing and kept the palm leaf umbrella on the ground and sat against the wall. A saffron dhoti wrapped around his body bore the color of his excessive travelling. But he didn't look tired, rather he had a serene and gentle aura which emanated peace and well being. He had a kind of mongolian beard, a rough triangular face, a long but flat nose and knots in his hair. His left eye was closed and the right one was so small and the effort he made to look at me made me think for a moment that he could be completely blind. But he proved me wrong. "You are the smallest one in this house ?"He asked. At that instance, my grand mother came rushing in. "So what ?What to you, if he is the smallest ?Here take this and you go on your way." She was furious looking at the strange behavior of the ascetic who had started a conversation with me. She wanted to end it all and she offered him a leaf plate full of uncooked rice. The one-eyed ascetic smiled and closed the lid of a peculiar sack which was protruding from his shoulder. "No mother, I am not here to beg. I am here to stay. So that you can feed me with whatever you cook. I will walk around the village and sleep on the floor and stay just for a day. The next day, I will go to some other village. I don't take butter or spices. I only eat simple food on an earthen pot that I already have. I eat once, or at some kind devotee's twice. I don't eat in the dark and don't sleep in the light. Mother, feed me before the sun sets." My grand mother was not prepared for this self appointed guest. She was about to say something, but she paused. Nobody could deny food and shelter to an ascetic, who takes the name of the supreme being and preaches his glory in bhajans (spiritual songs). So she went again inside the house and brought a plate of puffed rice (murmura), a jug of water and a glass of tea. The ascetic smiled and put his hands inside the sack he was carrying on the shoulder. He could have placed the sack on the floor but he didn't. I felt that he was very protective about the sack, however it seemed quite empty from the exterior looks. Then he brought the earthen pot out and poured water on it. He looked at the sun and said something in whispers. Then he mixed puffed rice and tea and started eating. I was intrigued by his presence.

I was getting late for the school and I needed to hurry. When I went passing him, I saw a few grains of murmura sticking on his beard and he was uncoiling the lid of the sack to get a bow like musical instrument. After school, when I came back, the ascetic was gone. I asked my mother. "Has he left ?". She said, "He who ?" I said, "one-eyed one". She said, "Oh, the boy thief". I was angry now. "He is no boy-thief. He is a sadhu (saint/ascetic)." She said,"listen boy, don't go near him. Didn't you see his sack and how big it is ? He can very well put a 11 years old and carry him away to his land. If you don't believe me, ask your grand maa." I went to grand maa. She asked me to sit down. "That man has gone to the village. He will come any time soon. He carries away boys like you and make a sage out of him. Sometimes, he transports them to his planet." I stopped her."Wait, are you saying, he is not from our area ? or you are saying he is not from this earth?" She said, "I know, god created this world for us to live. but there are other worlds too. Worlds of demons, pisachas, gandharvas, kinnaras; even world of small nameless creatures. That man knows their route. He has communication with them through his bow. He can send one from another world. None in the village know from where he came". I laughed at the vulnerability of grand mother. I said, "that bow is a musical instrument he carries to sing bhajans. He is not from anywhere else, he is a human being like us. You don't worry. I will eat a lot tonight and be heavy like a bull so that he won't be able to carry me in his sack and run away."
The one-eyed one came in the evening. I paid no attention as I was busy preparing for next day's examination. I decided to go early to bed and wake up at dawn to revise for the last time. When I got up from bed, it was very dark and cold. The crickets and frogs were making noises outside in a moonless night. To bring myself out of sleep completely, I went towards veranda and I noticed some movement. When I went near, my eyes got accustomed to the light and I saw the ascetic getting ready to move. He had made a bed out of haystacks of paddy (which was used as food for the cattle and we had a huge stock of it at home). He was cleaning the area and he sensed my presence and asked me, "Oh, someone in this house gets up this early. Can you show me the way to the pond so that I will freshen up and leave your village ?" I said, "Yes. It is this way (pointing my index finger towards north)." He kept silent for a second and then he asked again, "so I will take right once I leave your house." I said, "Yes and then you have to take a small road near the big banyan tree." He was perplexed and when he started to move, I saw him heading towards the thorns of babool. I realized his eyesight was poor and offered myself to go along with him to the pond. He didn't want to trouble me but I insisted saying that a brisk walk at dawn would help me concentrate for the study. When we hit the road, he told me about his childhood and how he became an ascetic and how much he loved to travel. Soon, we reached the big banyan tree and he needed to take a small trail towards the pond. A cloud of mist had formed over the water. Day was about to start and eastern sky had a tinge of red and orange. The stars were shining. I could faintly make out the saptarishis (seven stars of the constellation Ursa Major) and clearly locate the Dhruva tara (north pole star). "Aren't they beautiful ? There are billions like them. You need to close your eyes to see them or you need to get closer", he remarked. He noticed my enthusiasm and smiled and started searching for something in his sack. Suddenly, I remembered my grand mother's word and panicked. "No, no. I don't take anything from strangers", I said. His hands stopped inside and I could see a diamond shaped object, more like a star, glittering in white light, lying inside that enigmatic sack. For a moment, I felt the north pole star was no longer in the sky and it had come to rest a while inside. Bigger in size, brighter in appearance. I was baffled and started to retreat.

I thought that was an illusion, might be because of my restlessness or lack of sleep. But one part of me felt it was real. The pole star was inside the sack or the sack led to a smaller route to the star. The ascetic was descending towards the water body.

"Rupa rekha nahin hey sunya dehi
accha ude hoi...

Barasuchi jala na thai pabana
anachasa bayu bahe ghana ghana...

Badhuachhi jala nahi nadi kula
ulaka pata dhara bahi he sunya dehi
achha ude hoi...

Chaka chaka oda sukhila hoichhi
Kabata na phitun netra re disuchhi..

Sethare ashrama agadhi ta brahma
ude asta nahi tahin hai sunya dehi
achha ude hoi...

X     X      X     X        X     X         X     X

(Oh empty one, you have neither shape nor size
but you are present here like the sun...

Water is pouring in without a breeze
the forty nine winds flow intermittently..

Water level is rising whereas there is no river or a shore
Oh empty one, you are carrying a shower of meteors
but you are present here like the sun...

Clear wet surface has been dried
it is visible though the door is locked...

There lies the hermitage even though we know that the spirit is unfathomable 
Oh empty one, there is neither sunrise nor sunset
but you are present here like the sun...)

X     X      X     X        X     X         X     X         X     X         X     X


(Image of a model of folded space-time resulting in a wormhole. Taken from www.space.com)

Family Goddess and the story of missing matter

I was playing in the veranda and they started lifting me. I was shouting, "don't take me there. I will never do it again. I will buy another ball. " But they didn't listen. They made a roof out of me and marched towards the room with an ancient lock marked with red vermilion. I screamed, yelled, struggled to get out of their grip. Their hands were like iron chains and the more I fought, the stronger the force became and I started crying, helpless, frightened, numbness on my limbs, unable to do anything. Suddenly, I was on the ground. I felt the wet earth on my mouth and I was so happy that I started laughing. Then I opened my eyes. The cousins were not there. But everyone in the family was looking at me. Apparently, I was dreaming and fighting with my internal demons once again and like other encounters, this time too, I fell from the bed with my face down.

Summers were like this. I would sleep under the sky on a charpai (jute rope cot) along with others in my maternal grand father's house. I would dream of a Goddess inside a closed room and how forcefully she would pull me towards the room and I would struggle to my last sweat to be free from that fatal force. Everyone knew who was behind that force. The children knew and felt more. We would never go near that room, not even during daytime, or during time of festival or wedding ceremony. That room stood at the far end of the veranda, stayed desolate, inviting but alarmingly fearsome, not to be looked into. We had heard lots of stories about the room. Mintu said, family Goddess "Kalsu" of my grand father's ancestors resided there. She was a very beautiful nymph, short and dark. You could see the glow of her eyes, the radiation of her teeth and vermilion on her body. Rest of her, you couldn't see but only imagine. They said, she had snow like hair, some said, she had her hair made from the darkest of coal tar, some said, she was bald. None knew. None saw. But we remembered the descriptions. We made a visual picture, the most dreadful image and placed her inside the closed room.

The problem with summer was that it never passed. The days were longer and we were many cousins. We would play and run and plan adventures. But the room remained closed. Closed from all sides. Except for a small gap on it's roof, from where sunlight filtered in. Some light went inside at the junction where the wooden door frame met the brick wall. I would stand at a safe distance and would lurk inside. I would see dust particles, white and innocent, going inside the room, sometimes a wandering fly, a moth, loosing it's way. I would strain my eyes to locate things we had lost to the room. Chintu's glass ball, our cricket balls, Pinku's parrot, Joshi's pigeon, my ink pen. I believed that once you leave something near the room, the room pulled it and took inside. Once something went inside, it was gone. Never ever to be seen again. Desperate to get our things back, or curious enough to know what lies inside, we once approached, Bali. He used to be a brave kid among us and was not afraid of anything. We collected fifty paisa each and bought a pair of colorful glass and presented it to Bali. He was a happy go lucky child and was ready to climb to the roof top and look inside the closed room. We all prayed that Bali with the magic glass would find the things inside the room and tell us exactly what he saw. Bali removed his shirt and shoes, He took hold of the protruding bricks and started going up. Once he reached the top, he opened his mouth to present us with a dramatic laugh and looked down from the gap of the roof. He went near to the gap and slightly inserted his head and then he screamed. He came running down and jumped from the roof top. We gave him some water and sat beside him. What he said was nothing we had imagined. He said that the room was tidy and clean. Not a speck of dust or cobweb or our missing things. Even he dropped his magic glass and at the next moment the glass disappeared and a strange force started attracting his face and at that moment, he screamed.

None could sleep that night. Next morning, We agreed to confront grand father. He was the person in control of the house and he must tell us the mystery behind the closed room. He started with " Is she troubling you ? Once she started hurting the children. So my father packed her bags and took her to the nearest river and thrown her away along with her stuffs. However a packet of vermilion and a red cloth left behind and he put the two things inside a room at the far end and closed it for good." I asked, "So you are not taking care of the room now ?" Grandfather said, "No. Why should I ? That room is closed since then." We were puzzled. How could this happen ? There must be answers. We asked where our stuff went. Grandfather said, "they are there. Just not visible." Mintu was angry now. "Why on earth you keep that room then ? Why don't you destroy that room ?" Grandfather was as usual at his normal self. "where else she would go ? Just don't bother her. She won't bother you and she takes thing for good, for the future."

"What good is to have a space that take things from us ? What good can come out from it in the future ? Why there is a room which lures and hides matter ?" Summers passed eventually. I don't go there anymore. None of my cousins visit there now. I don't know whether that closed room with an ancient lock marked with red is still there. But I remember that inside the room, there was something dark. Something invisible, dark matter or dark space... space that eats matter or matter that eats matter, mysterious but beautiful.

                                          (*photo taken from Wikipedia about Dark matter)