Just a man

Just a man

Dreams… For some it is the most delightful word. But for others, it is the most painful word. The delightful side of that word can certainly lead you towards a happy life. However the other side of it... well, it may throw you into eternal despair from which you might not be able to rise ever again.

Being a published writer had always been Roy’s dream since he was in the tenth grade. He had dreamt of his stories travelling across the world. He had dreamt of his stories inspiring various aspiring people across the world. But the time had changed, and so had he. Those bright dreams were now locked in the dark room and the light was ambushed by the horrible darkness. Sometimes he could feel those dreams screaming for help, a single chance to shine again. Perhaps this time, they would shine in limits. However Roy highly doubted if he could let them out of their cage even for once.

That dream of being a published writer had brought him in the world of literature which apparently was different than he had imagined. Here the word literature meant to earn the money regardless the content. Fortunately Roy had learnt that in a short period since he'd arrived. He had assumed that being a content writer would someday provide him a platform to live up to his dreams and to shine again. But one thing he didn’t know was that this world had no space for light. Your shine would always be overshadowed by the various elements of life as well as the world.

Even after five years of being a content writer, he hadn’t written more than five chapters of his dream. He had barely written fifty pages. And even they were lost in the darkness of despair. At that day Roy realized that he wouldn’t be able to survive if his life continued to be such complicated. He had to make it simpler. And Roy knew that there was only one way he could do that. He simply had to make a choice. A choice that could either give him his happiness or it could make him just a man.

He could see two different ways leading towards two different destinations. He could see the barriers on both the paths. But he could discriminate their impact on his life. And then there was a moment to choose the path of his career. One of them would lead him towards a happy career and the other towards a comfortable one. While his heart was leaning towards the happy one, his mind was protesting with logical explanations that Roy knew were legitimate. As his heart leaned towards the happy career, his mind reminded him of the responsibilities he had been carrying along. It reminded him of his old parents, his wife and his children. It reminded him of the smiles on their faces and their comforts which were expected from him. And even if he succeeded to live up to his dreams, there was a fair chance that his works would never make it to the world. Apparently the happy path would compel him to sacrifice their delight in order to achieve his dreams. What kind of a selfish man would do that?

And when his mind leaned towards the comfortable path, his heart reminded him how delightfully he had seen those dreams and how passionately he had chased them… until now. Choosing the path of comfort would clearly be the end of his dreams. And what is the meaning of life without having an opportunity to chase your dreams? Life is supposed to be a personification of freedom, isn’t it? Is it worth to sacrifice all of these for their happiness? Perhaps it was, and perhaps it wasn’t. But the choice was inevitable. It had to be made. And Roy was not that selfish person who would choose his self over the people he loved and cared about. He was not that selfish to lock their future in the darkness so that his dreams could shine and breathe the fresh air. The choice was simple and so would be his life. He made the choice. He chose the happiness of his family over his own. He chose what any man would choose any day. He chose to be just a man.  

Emperor Bharata

“O monarch! Thy mighty son born of Shakuntala, shall grow to conquer the earth and his vigorous glory shall echo through the eternity of time. And because this child is to be cherished by thee, therefore shall this thy son be known by the name of Bharata (the cherished one).”

- The Mahabharata (Sambhav Parva)


Emperor Bharata, the mighty son of Dushyant (Dushmanta) and Shakuntala, was a prestigious monarch of Lunar Dynasty, whose legacy is the entire Indian Subcontinent. In his glory, this country is called Bharat (The land of Bharata) and the subcontinent is called Bharatvarsha.

The story of his birth is mentioned in the first Parva of the Mahabharata and in one of the greatest poems by Kalidas, Abhigyan Shankuntalam. The clan of Emperor Bharata inherited his name and became famous as Bharat Race. The Bharat Dynasty was dignified by many glorious monarchs such as Bhumanyu, Hastin, Shantanu, Yudhishthira, Parikshit, Janmenjaya and many more prestigious rulers. He was also a great ancestor to both Pandavas and Kauravas. All the great Kuru Warriors in epic Mahabharata were born in his dynasty. And thus the greatest poem of all time earns its name as the Mahabharata (The legend of Bharata Race).

Bharata was born to Shakuntala in the forest in the Ashram of Kanwa. He grew playing with lions, bears, tigers and other wild animals. Since he was finicky by nature, he was originally named as Sarvadaman (the one who subdues all). After the events of Hastinapur followed by the curse of Durvasa when Dushyant realizes about his son and his wife, he makes Shakuntala her queen and installs Bharata as his heir-apparent.

Emperor Bharata grew to be a Chakravartin Samrat who conquered the entire subcontinent and unified all the kingdoms into one invincible empire. He married to Princess Sunanda of Kashi and begot a son named Bhumanyu, who succeeded him on the throne after his demise.

For we have inherited the glorious name of Bharat, we all are his descendants. Till there remains the shape of Bharat (India) on the face of earth, his glory shall thrive in the heart of this nation.

Harihara

शिवाय विष्णु रूपाय शिव रूपाय विष्णवे |

शिवस्य हृदयं विष्णुं विष्णोश्च हृदयं शिवः ||

यथा शिवमयो विष्णुरेवं विष्णुमयः शिवः |
यथान्तरम न पश्यामि तथा में स्वस्तिरायुषि|
यथान्तरम न भेदा: स्यु: शिवराघवयोस्तथा||
(यजुर्वेद)
Vishnu is Shiva and Shiva is Vishnu. Vishnu resides in Shiva’s heart and Shiva resides in Vishnu’s. Hence, Vishnu can be found in the same place as Shiva and Shiva can be found in the same place as Vishnu. A person who sees them as one and inseparable, is the one to live a gracious life.

यथा शिवस्तथा विष्णुर्यथा विष्णुस्तथा शिव: ।
अन्तरं शिवविष्ण्वोश्र भनागपि न विद्यते ।।
(स्कन्द पुराण)
Where exists Shiva, Vishnu exists with him. And where exists Vishnu, Shiva exists with him. (They both exist in each other and everywhere.) Their eternal existence has no difference.

Harihara, is called the form of supreme god, in which both Adipurushas (birthless eternal beings) exists as one. ‘Hari’ stands for Vishnu and ‘Hara’ stands for Shiva. This particular form is worshipped by all the cults of Hinduism as the supreme form. However, it stands for a deeper meaning. Their eternal existence must be seen as one and infinite. Both Vishnu and Shiva are supreme gods (Swayam Bhagwan). They represent two sides of one coin. Vishnu, the preserver of universe, resides upon the ocean of milk (in which the entire universe cherishes), whereas Shiva, the destroyer of creation, resides on the summit of Divine Kailash (the cosmic mountain situated in the centre of the universe). Where Shiva, despite being an ascetic, has compassion for his family, Vishnu, despite being married, represents an ascetic mind. Shiva, who is married to Adishakti (the very energy of universe), represents how a man can still be egoless and powerful. Vishnu, who is married to Lakshmi (the prosperity of universe), represents how a man can still be generous and without greed in spite of having enormous wealth. Shiva, the destroyer, has a cherishing family. Whereas Vishnu, the preserver, has the universe as his family. Shiva, the founder of Yoga, meditates on Rama’s (Incarnation of Vishnu) blissful name. And Vishnu meditates on the calmness of Shiva. As the Yujarveda says, they both resides in each other’s heart. Vishnu is the only one to calm Shiva’s temper and endure his pain and Shiva is the one to know the endurance and purposes of Vishnu’s incarnations. They live human lives through each other’s heart, establishing the standards of an ideal life. They worship each other in their incarnations. E.g., Hanuman (Incarnation of Shiva) worships Rama (Incarnation of Vishnu) and Rama worships Shiva. They both are each other’s supreme gods and each other’s greatest devotees.
There cannot be any difference between them. The universe is a part of their eternal existence and they both together sustain balance of nature. Their singular existence results into manifestation, preservation and destruction.

The legend of Ganesha

Ganesha, more commonly known as Ganpati or Vinayak, is a second son of Lord Shiva, and an incarnation of Adishakti, Parvati. He is worshipped as the god of new beginnings and remover of obstacles. He is also a sibling to Kartikeya (also known as Skanda or Murugan) and Ashoka Sundari (the daughter born from the grace of Kalpavriksha). As the legend goes, Vinayak was created by Goddess Parvati while Shiva was away for his routine penance. She made a beautiful idol of a boy from special clay, who would be both virtuous and courageous. Being an incarnation of Adishakti, she gave life to the idol by the energy she possessed. Seeing the beautiful boy and his innocent nature, she embraced him as her child. From his birth, Vinayak was a skilful warrior and an obedient son to his mother. And he guarded Kailash while Shiva was away. All other goddesses blessed him with eternal beauty and virtue upon seeing his enchanting form.

One day while his mother was taking a bath and while he was guarding the entrance of Kailash, Shiva returned home after completing his months-long penance. Unaware of each other’s identity, Vinayak stopped Shiva from entering Kailash. He told the latter that he can’t enter unless his mother permits. Upon hearing this and thus stopped by an arrogant child from entering his own abode, Shiva became furious. Their verbal quarrel soon erupted as a combat fight. Vinayak fought bravely with his elephant goad and axe while Shiva, being the master of warfare, seemed invincible. Now the legends vary on Lord Shani’s involvement here. One legend describes that it was due to Shani’s Vakradirshti on Vinayak that put him in fight with Shiva. And another legend says that Shani, upon seeing an outrageous battle between Ganesha and Shiva, intervened to stop them. It is said that the weapon that Shani touches, is destined to end its enemy. Striving to stop Shiva, he accidently touched his Trishula, which resulted into Shiva beheading his own son Vinayak. As Parvati heard the cry of Vinayak upon his beheading, she rushed out where she saw Vinayak’s body lay headless and furious Shiva standing beside him. Devastated by her son’s loss, she told her lord about Vinayak which filled Shiva’s heart with sorrow and empathy. However in her devastation, Parvati furiously cursed Shani, making him blind of his sight (Vakradrishti). When Parvati pleaded her lord to revive their son, Shiva commanded his Ganas to bring the first creature they see nearby. The Ganas were not that witty. So they thought that their lord meant any creature by his mention of creature. And they brought an elephant head.

This act, however, shocked all of the gods, especially, Parvati. She wouldn’t dream of her beloved son with that gigantic elephant head. But the act was inevitable. As Shiva told her that they cannot take another creature’s life for it. Eventually, she agreed and Shiva placed the head upon Vinayak’s body and revived him. Thus, Vinayak opened his big eyes with this new elephant head. He asked Shiva’s forgiveness for not recognizing him while Shiva apologized for the same. And they embraced each other. Upon this incredible incident, the gods bestowed Vinayak with various blessings and boons. However, the concerned Surya (Shani’s father) told Parvati that without Shani’s Sight, the balance of universe would quake since he is the god of justice. Parvati realized her mistake and gave back Shani’s sight as well.

Later Vinayak was made the leader of Ganas at Kailash to which he was named as Ganesha and Ganpati. Ganesha is often depicted with Goddess Saraswati and Goddess Lakshmi who are goddess of knowledge and goddess of prosperity respectively. Ganesha completes the trio as the god of virtue and auspiciousness. Ganesha has two consorts: Riddhi (prosperity)/Buddhi (wisdom) and Siddhi (spiritual power). He has two sons: Kshema/Shubh (God of auspiciousness) and Labh (God of achievements). In newer legends, Goddess Santoshi Mata is a daughter of Ganesha and sister to Kshema and Labh. Ganehsa is often shown with two weapons: An axe and a goad.

Apart from traditional view, the festival of Ganesha Chaturthi was revolutionised by the well-known freedom fighter Bal Gangadhar Tilak (Lokmanya Tilak) in order to encourage people to join the fight of freedom. Thus the tradition of Ganesha Pandals still thrives in many parts of India. People welcome beautiful idols of Ganesha on Ganesha Chaturthi and submerge them ten days later on Anant Chaturdashi.

The legend of Ganga

Ganga, also known as Jaahnavi, Vishnupadi, Bhagwatpadi and Bhagirathi along with various other names, is one of the most sacred rivers in Hinduism. The legend of Ganga’s birth exists in her names. Vishnupadi and Bhagwatpadi, she has been carrying these both names since her birth. When Lord Narayana (Vishnu) in his Vamana Avatar asks the demon king Bali for three feet of land and when he extends his left foot covering the entire universe, he makes a hole in the universe with his toe. From that hole, the divine and pure water of Brahma-Universe emerges. Washing the feet of Narayana, Ganga flows in the universe. Hence, being touched by the red lotus feet of Narayana, the holy water of Ganga becomes reddish pink. Thus she receives her name of Vishnupadi and Bhagwatpadi, for flowing from the lotus feet of the supreme god himself. Then according to the will of Narayana, Ganga descends to Brahma Loka as the divine river of gods. She resides there along with other gods and is entitled as the goddess. And so she is the river of heaven.

Then many years later, Bhagirath pleases Lord Brahma with his vigorous penance and requests him to let Ganga descend on earth so that he could liberate the souls of sixty thousand sons of his ancestor King Sagar who were destroyed by Sage Kapil on their mischief. Brahma agrees to let Ganga descend on earth. However, he reckons a barrier in her descent. Ganga is the river of universe and therefore her flow is vigorously fierce. Has she descended on earth in her full glory, her furious flow would destroy the earth. On Brahma’s advice, Bhagirath strives to please Lord Shiva to hold the mighty flow of Ganga while she descends on earth. Lord Shiva, pleased by Bhagirath’s request, agrees to this. 

Ganga, upon seeking Narayana’s permission and Brahma’s blessings, descends on earth in her full glory, while Shiva holds her flow in his long hair-locks. For Shiva is her bearer on her descend, she is also believed to be his consort. Then Ganga travels behind Bhagirath, creating her own path on earth and meets to Sagara in the end. Thus, she receives the name of Bhagirathi. Ganga is also the only river to flow in all three worlds: Swarga, Bhoomi and Patala. For Ganga descends in the heart of Himalayas and starts her journey from there, she is also a daughter to the mountain king, Himalaya (King Himavan) and sister to Himalaya’s daughter Parvati along with hundred sons of Himalaya.

Ganga was a consort to King Shantanu of Bharat Race, as described in the epic Mahabharata. King Shantanu is said to be an incarnation of ocean himself. Hence, fulfilling her destined nature and a previous curse, she wedded him through Gandharva Vivaha. She had eight sons with Shantanu. However, seven of them had to die due to the curse of their previous birth and only one of them lived for the same curse. Bhishma. Bhishma, named on his birth as Devavrata, is known as the mighty son of Ganga, who lived in the last centuries of Dwapar Yuga. Being born in Satyayuga, cherished in Treta and Dwapar Yuga, Ganga still flourishes in Kali Yuga.

Ganga (Or as they call her, River Ganges) still has unique importance in India both religiously and spiritually. And her glory still thrives in people’s heart. Her source is called Gomukh, near Gangotri. She flows from those glaciers and meets the ocean at Bay of Bengal. She is also a lifeline to most of the North-Indian population and fame of the many cities like Haridwar, Rishikesh, Patna, Allahabad, Varanasi, Kanpur, Kolkata and many more. 

Draupadi’s Swayamvar

“Arjun,” Yudhishthira called.

Arjun stepped forward and turned to his elder brother. “Brother!” he bowed his head.

“Perhaps the time has come when you fulfilled your duty as Kshatriya,” Yudhishthira said. “Almost every prince and king in this assembly who are here to wed Princess Draupadi has failed. And others are guests here. If this Swayamvar fails to reach its goal, it may defame King Drupad. And as long as one Kshatriya remains on this earth who could lift that bow and shoot an eye of that fish, this Swayamvar must not fail.”

“Shall I go then?” Arjun asked politely.

“Yes,” Yudhishthira nodded. “Go. Do your duty.”

Arjun bowed down respectfully to his brother.

“May you triumph,” Yudhishthira blessed with a smile. “If it is God’s will, then Princess Draupadi shall be your wife.”

Arjun turned to Bheema and bowed his head.

“Show them who you are, my dear brother,” Bheema smiled.

Arjun glanced at Nakul and Sahadev while they both nodded with a smile. They all were in disguise. They were all dressed like ascetics. Yet their warrior-physique made them different from other ascetics standing there in audience. Arjun inhaled deeply and glanced far at the wheel of fish continuously whining with rapid speed.

Arjun stepped down and walked down the red carpet. Hundreds of kings and prices sat there on their rich chairs on both the sides of the path. Arjun could see the banners behind those chairs. Banners of Chhedi, Shalva, Kuntibhoja, Avanti, Kashi, Mahishmati, Maadra, Gandhar, Avadh, Kannuaj, Magadh, Hastinapur, Ang, Mathura, Dwarka, Matsya and hundreds more were visible. They all stared at him in surprise as he walked down the carpet. Arjun also glanced over them. But then he saw Prince Duryodhana looking at him suspiciously. The giant elephant head gloriously glared behind his chair. Princes of Gandhar, brothers of Uncle Shakuni, giggled looking at Arjun. They were joking on him. As he walked by the Chhedi Price, he heard Prince Shishupal saying ‘What is he going to do?’ and then he laughed. Arjun smirked and ignored all of them.

As he reached beneath the wheel of fish, he stopped. He spotted the magnificent bow laying amidst the flowers. Its strength could be seen from its glorious shape and size. It must be incredibly heavy. There were three arrows placed beside the bow. Before Arjun could proceed, King Drupad spoke, “You’re welcome to try. But I don’t think you would be able to even lift it. All of these great princes and kings have failed. You’re mere an ascetic. But I won’t stop you. Go ahead! Show us your courage.”

Arjun smirked quietly, looking at King Drupad. Meanwhile, King Drupad glanced toward his daughter who was sitting in the balcony. She had a clear view from there. She was watching Arjun since he had walked out from the crowd. Arjun also glanced at her. Such a beauty! He thought. A woman looks prettiest on her wedding day. In rich red clothes and ornaments all upon her body, she looked mesmerizingly pretty. And Arjun was in dusty clothes of an ascetic. For years, he hadn’t worn rich clothes. His handsome face was covered with long beard. With matted locks in his hair, dusky tone and in muscular warrior-like body, he looked as if Shiva himself had appeared in the Swayamvar. But that beauty was not enough to distract him from his task. No beauty was enough to distract him. He could resist the utmost temptation.

However, someone else caught his eye as he was rolling his eyes back toward the bow and arrow. A man with dark bluish skin was staring at him with a mysterious smile on his face. He wore a rich shiny red cape, contrary to his skin-tone. His clothes were vibrant-coloured. And more noticeably, he wore a beautiful peacock feather on his magnificent crown. Arjun looked at him for a brief moment and he felt his mind calming down. Everything he was wondering faded away. The man grinned at Arjun.

Arjun quickly recovered his senses. Meanwhile, the man leaned aside toward another man with a much gigantic and muscular structure. He was tall, fair and handsome as well. He wore blue rich clothes. And he had even more magnificent crown on his head, except for the peacock feather. Arjun noticed a banner with giant peacock feather behind their chairs.

“That’s Jishnu,” the man with bluish skin told the other man, pointing toward Arjun. Arjun could hear their voices since the entire crowd had fallen quiet from the moment he walked out of the crowd.

“Aunt Pritha’s youngest son?” the other man frowned and glanced at Arjun.

“Yes, youngest son of Aunt Pritha, Parth,” the man with bluish skin smiled, turning his face again toward Arjun.

Arjun was shocked hearing his own name on their lips. How did he recognize me? He wondered. It was too hard for anyone to recognize Arjun in this attire, especially for someone who had never seen him before. Arjun had figured out who they were when he saw that giant peacock feather behind their chairs. It was the symbol of Yadava Capital, Dwarka. Sons of his mother’s biological brother, had established that city. He assumed them to be Krishna and Balram, his cousins. Meanwhile, they both looked at him happily.

Focusing on his task, Arjun proceeded toward the bow. He gazed up and saw the fish wheeling around rapidly for a moment. Then he crouched forth and touched the bow. It was his habit that before lifting up any bow he used to bow his head before it. It was his self-accepted ritual that he always followed. He did the same with this bow. Then he put his fingers on the bow softly and grasped it tightly. He inhaled deeply closing his eyes in order to pray to Lord Shiva to grant him courage.

“Har har mahadev”, he murmured beneath his breath, clutching his fingers around the bow and lifted it with a yank.

He could hear people gasping out of shock. He had hoped for the bow to be heavier. However, it didn’t seem that much heavy now. He opened his eyes to see a wave of shock taking over people’s faces. Everyone were staring at him with their eyes wide open. He saw Prince Duryodhana, Uncle Shakuni and Karna staring at him in surprise. That terrified look on their faces made him almost laugh. Controlling his laughter, Arjun rolled his eyes to King Drupad who had said earlier that he wouldn’t be able to even lift it. King Drupad had almost stood up from his throne with his eyes wide open and his mouth gasping. Breathing satisfaction in his lungs, Arjun glanced at Princess Draupadi, who seemed rather happy after watching him lifting the bow. Perhaps she had hoped for her future husband to be courageous and strong. She blushed as she caught Arjun looking at her. Arjun rolled his eyes toward Krishna and Balram who were also smiling happily. Arjun had heard about his cousins’ acts quite well. He knew exactly what they were capable of. Perhaps they hoped for their cousin to be just like them. Hence, it was no surprise for them.

Arjun proceeded to his task and picked up an arrow. He stepped toward the pot filled with water. Water in the pot wasn’t still. He could see the reflection trembling on the surface. However, Arjun had accomplished much tougher tasks in the past. He narrowed his gaze and focused on the eye of that fish. In a brief moment, he learned about the motion of the fish. He placed the arrow on the bow and raised them high above his head, while his eyes were constantly looking at the eye of a fish. It was like he had linked his eye with the fish’s eye. Arjun pulled the string of his bow tightly and waited for a right moment to leave the arrow. Soon he could only see the eye of a fish and everything else seemed blur. He didn’t hear any voice, nor did he feel the wind touching his skin. He didn’t even hear the breeze of an air. Such was his concentration. And all of a sudden, he loosened his fingers and the arrow flew swiftly upwards and pierced the eye of that fish.

~ From ‘Draupadi’s Swayamvar’ by Bhargav Patel [Based on The Mahabharata]

Redemption

Seeing King Shuddhodana lying in his deathbed, Buddha approached in. It was the king’s last wish to see Buddha in order to redeem himself in death. Or perhaps, it was just his love for his son that he wanted to see his beloved Siddhartha before he died. Whatever it was, Buddha accepted the king’s invitation. It had been many years since he had visited Kapilvastu. The last time he was here, young Rahul had asked his inheritance. But Buddha persuaded him into asceticism. Buddha knew that the king didn’t like his heir being drawn toward ascetic life. However, the king was dying now. Nothing that he liked or disliked mattered anymore. And his last wish… Well, Buddha had to accept it for the king he was.

Anand and his fellows stayed in the garden outside the palace, where Buddha was staying. Meanwhile, Buddha went to meet the king. He was informed that the king hadn’t stepped out of his chamber for many days. He was too weak to speak and sometimes he even didn’t recognize people. He hallucinated things and people: his beloved wife Maya, his grandchild and even his son too. However Buddha was certain that the king would recognize him. How wouldn’t he? The king had mourned over his son’s departure for most of his life. He could forget everything in the world for a moment, but he could never forget his beloved son. Although, Siddhartha was long gone. 

As Buddha stepped into the king’s chamber, the guards left after bowing, leaving them alone. Buddha glanced over the chamber. It was still the same as it was years ago. Not a single thing had been changed. Buddha’s presence brought a strange energy into the chamber that weak king also tilted his head to see Buddha standing near the door.

“Gautama,” the king gasped. His voice was too weak and shaky.

Buddha glanced at the king. Surprisingly, he seemed weaker than Buddha last remembered him. The king’s wrinkled eyes requested Buddha to come forth and have a seat near the bed. The king’s body was so weak that even bones were visible. It seemed as if he had not eaten in several days. Buddha looked at the king’s white beard. He had really grown old. And why wouldn’t he? It had been a lifetime ago when Buddha played with the king as a child.

Buddha walked toward the bed and stood closer to it, from where the king could see him properly. Buddha looked into the king’s eyes while the king also stared into his.

“Gautama, you have come?” the king gasped again.

“As you have requested, your majesty,” Buddha said softly.

A light smile crossed the king’s dry lips as he heard Buddha saying him ‘your majesty’. Usually, people addressed Buddha with the word ‘my lord’. Even the great emperors bowed down to his feet. Such a great fortune! The king had wished for his son that the great monarchs would bow down to his feet, when he was born. However, he hadn’t expected him to be an ascetic. He could have become the greatest emperor of this land. But he became something greater.

“Then you must know why I have invited you here,” the king said.

“I can assume, perhaps,” Buddha said.

The king looked into his eyes for a brief moment. Then he suddenly spoke, “No. It’s not what you’re thinking. I haven’t invited you here because--” he paused. “I’ve invited you to provide me a way to redeem myself.”

Buddha nodded quietly.

“I’m approaching toward my death, Gautama. Any moment could be my last. And I desire of Nirvana. I know if there is anyone who could guide me towards liberation, it’s only you. I cannot be guided by your disciples since my mind has been covered with severe smoke of distraction. Only you can blow the smoke away and enlighten me to the truth.”

Buddha smiled faintly at the king. “I cannot enlighten you unless you help yourself. I’m not a sorcerer, your majesty. Nor am I the god. A man can only be enlightened if he wishes to be, if he is ready to be. I’m a mere medium,” he said.

“Then be my medium, Gautama. Because… I’m ready to embrace your path,” the king requested.

“It is not wrong to love your child,” Buddha said softly. “After all, a child is the most precious thing a person can have.” Meanwhile, the king looked at him in bewilderment. He hadn’t hoped that Buddha would talk about them. “However, the attachment is quite harmful. Human life is like a season of nature. As the leaves fall in autumn, we all meet to our death someday. But as the spring arrives, nature starts to bloom again. Likewise, we are reborn with a new body and with a new adventurous life. But the nature never mourns on what is lost. And we should adapt that quality of nature and stop mourning for what is gone. That is the only way that we can allow a spring to bloom in our souls again. It is the only way we can be at peace.”

“I have stopped mourning,” the king muttered. “I’ve stopped mourning long ago.”

“Have you?” Buddha frowned. “King Dasrath died due to his love for his son. And I cannot see any other reason for a mighty king to approach toward death before his time. You’re still mourning, your majesty.”

The king looked into Buddha’s eyes. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps he had never stopped mourning on his son and his family. Because everyone he loved, abandoned him throughout his life. He was left alone with this enormous kingdom. Moreover, he hadn’t left with an heir. His eyes glittered as he faced his true self into Buddha’s eyes.

“But I can stop it, can’t I?” he gasped.

“You can,” Buddha nodded. “But you won’t.”

“But why?”

“Because perhaps it is too late for you to leave me. You have been consumed by grief.”

“Then show me a way out of this grief. I don’t want to die without my mind at peace,” the king begged.

Buddha remained quiet for a moment. “You have unachieved dreams, haven’t you?” Buddha asked.

“Perhaps, I have,” King Shuddhodana nodded weakly.

“For your mind to be at peace, you need to live those dreams,” Buddha suggested.

“I cannot,” the king shook his head. “Those dreams were perished long ago.”

“Perhaps I can help,” Buddha said.

The king looked into his twinkling eyes for a brief moment.

“I always wanted a happy family with my wife and my children,” the king confessed. “A part of that dream died along with Maya. I couldn’t dream that sight after her demise.” He remained quiet for a moment, staring blankly at Buddha. “And I wanted my son.”

“Mother cherishes happily,” Buddha informed in a formal voice.

“Maya?” the king gasped. “She--”

“Yes, she is happy with whatever she had.”

“But how do you know?”

“After my enlightenment, I could travel across the worlds. Even the heavens. I visited her for three months in order to learn how she was,” Buddha replied.

“She loved you even when you were in her womb,” the king said gladly.

“I’m aware of that,” Buddha smiled. “And as your last wish, I’ll take you to her for that it might bring you peace.”

“Will you?” the king frowned in surprise.

“Yes, father,” Buddha murmured.

As the king heard the word ‘father’ from his mouth, he felt his heart lightening from the emotional grief that he had been carrying for all these years. He felt his chaotic mind achieving peace slowly. It was like the sound of silence had possessed him. Perhaps that was the only thing he wanted to hear his entire life. And now, he had heard it finally. He didn’t care even if the death consumed him right away.

Buddha grabbed the king’s hand gently and caressed his fingers upon his palm. The king stared at him astonishingly, while Buddha wore a beautiful smile on his face. In a few moments, the king felt his mind staring in a singularity. A single point of existence. He didn’t feel his body. He didn’t feel his senses. He didn’t feel anything. The next vision was a beautiful full-moon night where he saw Buddha sat in meditation while two lotus floated beautifully amidst the air facing toward Buddha. The full moon shone behind him gloriously. And suddenly his vision swirled around Buddha’s forehead, upon the Ajna Chakra and his whole vision went blurry and vivid as white.

As the king opened his eyes, he found himself in a dreamy place. The place had glorious tall palaces and magnificent buildings that were impossible to build on earth. They were so enormously and magnificently built. The floor was entirely covered with clouds and a white smoke. And the palaces were hazy. It felt as if the king was standing in the heaven. All the surroundings seemed bright and milky white. Everything was more vivid here than it could be on earth. Surprisingly, he saw a beautiful young lady sitting on a lonely bench amid the clouds and smoke. She was facing her back at him. Her glimmering white clothes were cherishing her beauty so greatly that for a moment even a nymph would look less pretty before her. The king could recognize her. She was the woman whom he had been married for years, who gave birth to his beloved son, Siddhartha.

“Maya!” the king called as he approached her.

Queen Maya turned around to see the king rushing toward her. She stood up as she recognized the king. Her beautiful lips emerged in a broad smile seeing her husband before her eyes. She quickly bowed to him as he stopped before her. The king held her by shoulders and embraced her tightly.

“Maya,” the king whispered in her ear. “Finally, I meet you.” He closed his eyes in order to enjoy one of the happiest moment of his life to its core.

And then Buddha caressed his fingers through the king’s white hair while the king’s body lay motionless in the bed. He glanced at his happy face. Perhaps it was the most cheerful expression he had had in last many years. Buddha looked at his face for a brief moment and then closed the king’s eyes, while the king rested in peace.