Chandra Sandesam

Chandra Sandesam

Arudra

Prelogue

Excuse me! Could you please tell me the way to , these words jingled out of her mouth, ever so slowly but ended ever so fast. Or so it seemed to Siva. His reply was just, Sure which was more of a reflex action. Furthermore, he could not make a single coherent cognitive remark.

My StoryDay one The beginning of the endThe majestic Himalayan Mountains stood before me like they have stood countless years before others, rich, poor, sadhus, bacchanals and caring for none. If man did not have his way, they would do so for many more eons. I have a particular interest in these mountains as it is rumored to be the abode of many great souls including my namesake, Lord Siva and the resting place of Adi Sankara. My father, mother and my kid cousin were my acquaintances on this trip across North India to visit Kedarnath and Badrinath, the sacred Dhams. We along with forty other families had signed with Southern Travels, a travel agency to get us across our pilgrimage. We had started from New Delhi the previous night and this morning, we had visited Haridwar and Rishikesh. Rishikesh is a beautiful place, the serene Ganges flowing below Ram Jhula and Lakshman Jhula (a set of bridges). You could see hundreds of foreigners both white skinned and yellow skinned doing some form of Yoga or the other. This is the place where the Garwhal mountain ranges of Himalayas start and we went up, and up the winding roads among the forests. I had Just completed two years of my Bachelors in Engineering. My aim in this visit to meet and recognize a real Sadhu. I had met many Sadhus till date, but I could not build my rapport with them. Either they were not real or I was Sadhu-blind. My cousin could not engage me too much. He found friends of his age to play. My parents were engaged in religious rituals which allowed my mind to wander amongst those mountains and my prospective future home. It was during one lunch break on the first day of our journey that I saw her. She was the only inhabitant in our travel group around my age. This did not attract me to her and I was unaffected by her movements. But I just happened to observe her, as a station master would observe a passing train with no halt. Was her smile beautiful? At least, it did not register consciously. During that day, when we were traveling in two buses through holy places, I could glimpse her. Though we were in separate buses, we were on the same side of the bus with a window seat. And in the long, winding roads, it was not at all difficult to catch a sight of her. If I did miss her, I would be doing so deliberately. After lunch, we had a brief halt at Dev Prayag, the place where Ganges comes in to being. Do not confuse this with Gangothri where Bhaagerathi originates. At Dev Prayag, the mighty Bhaagerathi River from the left meets with the green, serene and slow Alaknanda River from the right to be called as Ganges henceforth. Many people were taking a dip at this holy prayag. One false step and you were sure to get Moksha. Some were collecting the holy waters from the spot where the rivers met. Cant you see properly! You did not collect this water properly. I have to do everything. I saw a man scolding his teenaged son for not getting the mixture right. The Bhageerathi was muddy because of its great force whereas Alaknanda was green with no mud. The son who was apparently afraid of the mightier river steered a little right from the exact spot where these two rivers met and collected the green waters. The elderly disposition poured the water from the bottle as if it was worthless and holding a chain (set into the river beds for the convenience of such exacting devotees), recollected the holy water into the bottle. I wondered if I could point to him that the water might not be an exact 50-50 mixture and that he should get it tested in a lab. I decided against being frank and kept mum. This world does not appreciate such a helping nature.I saw a Sadhu sitting there in a natural grotto calling himself Pahadi Baba. I went inside in anticipation of wisdom. I placed a customary currency note in his hand as a sign of respect. Immediately, he opened up giving me sacred ash from the nearby burning wood. I asked what he thought about life and how he came into being as a Sadhu. Life is what you make it to be. If I had known what it meant to be a Sadhu, I would not have become one. But I have no other choice now. So, here I am taking your offering and satisfying my hunger, he said in a regretful voice while pocketing the ten rupee note. It was a shock to me, but I quickly regained my composure and calmly came out. If being a true ascetic was so easy, everyone would be one.Our bus once again labored its way up the Himalayas. We were going along a roughly cut road along the edges of the mountains. We could see the aquamarine Alaknanda down below, a picture of serenity. The white sandy beaches adorned it like a pearl garland on a ladys neck. If I was assured of food, I would then and there run into those forests to meditate (as long as night did not fall).Siva! Lets book a hotel at this night halt. Or else, it would be the Satram for us, I heard the words of my father. We had reached a small town called Srinagar (not the one in Kashmir). Having been jolted out of my ruminations, I quickly followed him to a hotel, and we booked a room in the third floor which had a large balcony. The weather was yet to gather chill as we had some sunshine left. The Himalayas rose a few hundred feet in the sky to break the calm, unperturbed blue expanse. The larger mountains were still much ahead on our trip. Dark thunderous clouds gathered further down the horizon and approached us.My brother started crying out for some toffees. I had to go down to a hawker and buy some sweetmeats to appease him. I raced as fast I could back to the room thinking on the lines of a sparrow followed by an eagle. I nearly collided with a person around the corridor of the hotel on our floor. Damn these people! Why do they disturb the likes of us running international errands? The person saw and felt my scowl and stood there with a mix of embarrassment and anger, a peculiar mix. Only then did I realize that it was none other than the girl I had watched many times that day (unconsciously). Then I saw her countenance break into a pleasant smile. Well, she had a good smile and probably a good sense of humor to be smiling at someone painted with a scowl. I could return good manners with better ones. I started to break into a smile, but before that, I happened to glance at a window pane reflecting myself. I was shocked. My face was not at all hard with a scowl. It was smiling, and as soft as fresh snow!! Was this why she smiled in the first place? This was bad, my external ruminative mind was not in cahoots with my subconscious one. Mustering mobility, I darted from the dangerous place. Soon enough, I soothed my brother with his candies. It was time to go to the local temple for the evening aarthi. As we rushed out of the room, the tenants from the opposite room rushed out as well. Their family of five included the dreaded girl from the last Paragraph. I know not, what look I blurted in response to her acquainted twinkle.

Having completed the prayer, my mother started contemplating a one-night upavasam, the day being a Saturday. Sometime, such events extended the whole week end leaving me wondering where all Indian mothers get their strength from. Leaving her to her machinations (with father trying to dissuade her), I dragged my cousin to our groups ad-hoc meal stand for the day. I could smell the beatific pappu and sambhar they had prepared. Having filled our plates to the brim, we trotted amongst our coterie of conspiring pilgrims to appease God and get boons ranging from wealth, health, progeny, further progeny, good studies etc.The night was young and the moon beautiful. The far off clouds were still giving the night a lot of breathing space. The moonlight added to the rustic beauty of this place which slept early around 9 pm much unlike the sophisticated lives of us urbane superiors. Both of us settled down in a corner which was the most elevated place. We watched everyone and no one in particular with the contempt of a supercilious god and the natural superiority of Youth. It seemed that God did not like someone else imitating his contempt and he willed his displeasure through the actions of my cousin. It was semi dark with most of the light coming from the accursed moon (more about this later). In this darkness, I missed the mischievous look of my brother. I saw the girl starting her food and hoped she didnt catch me watching her. After all, I was gaping at her only because her dress was nice or so I fooled myself. It was a black Punjabi with mirrors all over. The naughty moon beckoned me with flashes through each of those blessed mirrors. Her contrasting fair self was significantly evident even in that moonlight. Who was I to deny such a simple unornamented beauty? I started walking towards her hypnotized with feeble but certain steps. I coaxed my mind that I was going to see her dress up-close as if it were a unique specimen of some Ming dynasty queens wardrobe. But if things went out way, each of us would will an in-person Krishna locked in his room along with an ever yielding Lakshmi. There had to be a Ravana to Ramayana, a Satan to Bible or a politician to India for the world to be what it is today. As I came near her, I suddenly felt my leg being scorched with something slimy and heard my cousins villainous laugh. Damn the kid! His boiling sambhar was all over my leg and foot. He mumbled an effortless, gleeful Sorry Annayya. The spell broken, I no longer could carry my legs to where they had intended to. My mind would not be cajoled a second time along the lines of a pleasing dress.The far off clouds seemed ever so close to the moon now. The time for confrontation between my outer and inner feelings seemed inevitable. Meanwhile, far greater things were happening. The girl saw my predicament and started to laugh turning a few heads towards me. I had mental projections of a NTR doling out Panchali! Pancha Bhadruka in Dana Veera Soora Karna, a popular (but in poor taste) rendition of karnas story. At the same time, my cousin needed a lesson, a none too sparing one. How was I to break this dilemma? To be a Duryodhana to Panchali or to be a Duryodhana to a Pandava (my cousin)? The path of least resistance guided me to spank my cousin but with a much lesser intensity that he had asked for. Buddha seemed to have entered my mind or was it a thought not to displease the girl?After dinner, I embarked on my earlier mission once more. My inner and outer selves united and guided me along a path suggested by a sublime heart. Sringar is a very beautiful town. It was not too small to shy itself away from you nor was it too big to dismiss you. Just the correct sophistication and ample beauty beheld the lookers senses. On one side of the local main road which was the heart of the town, you had beautiful hills with houses spread wide apart. On the other side, you had a valley and you could hear the majestic Ganges flowing effortlessly in the distance.

Sidebar: An advice to all you budding young-at-hearts: if you ever come across a specimen from the opposite sex in a dark Punjabi with mirrors all over and the moon is laughing at you from these thousand faces, and you are in a place like Srinagar, run from there as if plague itself was after you. Do not tell me I didnt you warn you later.In these dangerous surroundings, I saw her meandering though the local market full of life. Girls were eager to have their wrists wrapped with the hands of Bangle sellers. There was a sumptuous display of fruits all over. If you missed the romanticism of this place, you were really miserable. I started following the girl wherever her legs took her. Into the bangle stores I went, and through the fruit stalls, and over the dogs to keep pace with her. I had by now assumed the role of Sherlock Holmes investigating a murder suspect. I need not explain whose death it was. Suddenly, I found myself back at our hotel room. The outing had come to an end. I think she saw me following but I was too busy noticing her that I failed to notice that she was noticing me. But no longer did I care about being caught red handed. No more was I shy, nor was I afraid of this person.My mother was waiting for me, What were you doing? Dont go too far out and be careful. My father said the same with his looks. The young Ravana did well to poison their minds. Not a problem, he will get his due. Son! Tomorrow we have to wake up early. Our bus leaves at 4:30 am to Kedarnath, I heard my father saying. The first day of our journey had elapsed and left me with confused thoughts. What was I doing and why? But whatever it was, it was fun. Just before slipping into sleep, I heard the rumble in the sky and quite close. Already, I could smell the sweet wet earth. The moon must have taken its rest behind the misty mountains.End of Day One

Day Two The trails to Rampur

The next morning saw me wake up to a horizon with no clouds. The thunderous rain had passed away. The previous days curiosity no longer held its sway over me. We all freshed up and boarded the bus to go to Kedarnath, Lord Shivas hide out in the form of an ox. During the journey of eight hours, I restrained myself from looking outside, the reasons obvious. I also felt ashamed at my rash, unmitigated behavior of the previous night. I even started to enjoy my brothers pestering. After a couple of hours journey, we left Rudra Prayag behind us. It was the prayag where Alaknanda met with the slow Mandakini River (manda being slow). The journey was uneventful with me keeping entirely to myself and sometimes surrendering to the vice of a lazy sleep. The astounding surroundings, breathtaking views of valleys with blooming flowers and the sheer thrill of being close to a certain death flowing as we did along the edges of these gorges kept me enthralled at other times. During the lunch break, I could not avoid her completely. But my self control was still adamant and I gave her an indifferent look which I think puzzled her.

After noon, we stopped at a temple town called Gupt kashi (Hidden Kashi). According to legend, Lord Shiva wanted to avoid the Pandavas who were seeking a boon and hid at this place. But the Pandavas were wise to him and nearly caught him whence he fled to Kedarnath.Later in the day, we had to pass through some sickeningly winding and treacherous roads at an altitude of 6,000 ft. Adding to this drama, the bus driver was scolded by the owner for going slow and he showed his experience and true colors by flying instead of driving. Everyone hung on to their dear lives and I am sure there were all kinds of prayers rollicking. God truly lives in the minds of the fearful. I for one was no hero that day. All I could think of were some morbid hallucinations which were better unsaid. Lord Shiva could not have picked up a better place for hiding from the Pandavas at Kedarnath (according to legend). It seemed to us that we would be reaching heaven one way or the other that day.At long last, we arrived at our halt for the night. We arrived at Rampur, a lovely village which oversaw lush, green, step-irrigated slopes. All the houses sold something or the other. There were no idle ones. We would start from here to kedar the next day on a ponys back. We had the whole evening and night to rest. I started walking along the road, a winding one carved along the mountains periphery.There was no one this far from the village as most of them were from an older generation. I enjoyed every bit of this solitude and the Himalayas. Once more, I felt that I was born to be a Sadhu roaming freely amongst these majestic, mysterious abodes of beauty and austerity. I heard a few voices coming opposite to me and I wondered as to who got ahead of me. I was also irritated that humans lacked the moral code to preserve natures pristine silence. It was the girl with her brother who was younger to her. For a moment, they stopped talking as they sensed me. Prior to seeing them, I had opened my mind letting all of natures glory seep into me. I had further widened it thinking no one would come this far up the road. But of all the people, she was there. Once again, the previous days euphoria flooded an unsuspecting, nave heart. I had downed my armor and paid for it. My heart gave away and I was gradually but definitely attracted to her thwarting my minds feeble attempts to reason out the situation. I began to consciously observe her face, her behavior and her every move. Being a religious person, I began suspecting Gods hand in this. God is supposed to be playing with mortals. He is supposed to be a master of irony. I came here to be strong in my aim to be a Sadhu. But here I am, thinking about a girl. With a torn but jumping heart, I left the place but not before trying to impress her with a lively whistle as if caring for none.

Dinner time when the whole group met brought out the worst in me. Like a wolf on a full moons night, my emotions flowed out in anticipation of seeing her again. No longer did I find my brothers existence a thorn in my peaceful thoughts. It was as if he did not exist. There she was gleefully eating out of her thali, cracking jokes, never laughing out boisterously but with the mellifluous flow of a stream. She knew I was watching her and gave a few quick melting smiles making me wonder if I had imagined these pearls of joy. To top it all, our adjacent occupants in our hotel were who else but, you know by now. Aah! Was it the cruel hand of fate or the joy of my love, I knew not. Till then, I did not know that joy could be so painful. Or was it that pain could be so joyful? There had to be some greater force involved to make such coincidences possible. I dared not give any name to my feeling lest it should sound common. None could experience these emotions that I had endured. The moon smiled far along as if anointing my bleeding emotions. End of Day Two

Day Three The abode of ShivaEarly next morning, we went to the nearby Gauri Kund, Kedarnaths base camp. From here, there was no road that could support vehicles. We were going up the hill on ponies to reach Kedarnath. We could have gone up the mountain on foot but my father talked us into riding ponies which we rented for Rs.1200 a piece. Each of the passengers were on their own while renting the ponies as our Travel Agency did not have any arrangements with these pony owners. The trail was 14 kms, enough to give many a heart attack. It was extremely precipitous. Can we trust out lives with these ponies with such inferior intelligence? The one I rode on seemed to be lover of Mission Impossible movies. It hovered right on the edge of the trail with atleast a 500ft fall to the bottom of the gorge. Were those pebbles falling down or my courage broken into pieces? I was a witness to an unfortunate event as well. In some places while going up, the roads went up the hill and then double backed further up. So, from the bottom road, you could see the road pass back above you. One of the ponies which were close to the edge of the narrow roads, by chance, hit a fist sized stone and it fell directly on the head of another pony riding on the road down below. It fell down dead immediately with blood oozing out of its head. Another second and the lady riding the poor pony would have met the fate.

And yet, incredibly, all my feelings of fear passed away quickly and moved to the back burner as they gave way to the onslaught of my quest, the girl. I had not seen her the entire morning and I was restless. Did her pony pass much earlier that me? Or was she still behind me?We all took a tea break at a small place where temporary stalls were raised. No later were we seated in that shackle, that a hail started with great force. Seeing back, I wonder what would have happened had we passed the stalls earlier. I doubt if we could have survived it. Yet, these feelings had no place for my young heart at that moment. Never in my life had I enjoyed a tea better in those heavenly altitudes and the cold winds with balls of ice drumming up the stall from above. After the hail stopped, we had just started to resume our journey when I glimpsed her entering the same tea stall from among four others. I looked back and saw her sit in the same place I sat a few minutes ago (no my friends, these are not the liberal strokes of artistic freedom but the plain truth). My doubts were confirmed. This was definitely divine intervention. Never did it occur to me that God had more important things than play Cupid to a couple of stupid humans who had no sense of the gravity of things in which this fragile world was in. Anyhow, I had no doubt we would meet atop the hill. We passed some roads recently cleared and with blocks of ice jutting from the sides. Finally, we could see the temple in the distance and the august mountains rising way up, behind the temple. The tips of the mountains were stark golden in the evening sun with clouds tempting the mountains. One could not miss the exquisite beauty of these youthful ranges. The views were truly magnificent to be described in words. We quickly rented a room at a hotel and went to the temple where a big rock shaped as a bulls mount was worshipped as Lord Shiva. Kedarnath was at an altitude of 11600 ft and the temperature danced around the freezing point but I had much warmer thoughts and sights to behold. For the first time in my life, the format of my prayers, nay, demands to God changed. I was used to saying God! Make me an ascetic. But that day, I said, Make her mine. I had no idea what that meant nor did I want to think too deep in that direction. After we had returned to our room from the Darshan, we helped ourselves to hot alu parathas which tasted like nothing else. The place was freezing as hell, yet never had I been happier. The moon had come out and the Himalayas looked absolutely stunning in that light. If the Himalayas were a bride that day, I would bet there would be no groom who could survive such beauty. We were returning to our room to sleep when I passed the girl going into her room. As always, it was our sibling room. She too noticed me and for the first time gave a wide smile. I positively hate being smiled upon with such brilliance as I nearly stumbled to my death.End of Day ThreeDay Four Pleading with Narayana

Early the following day, we had visited the temple again and also the place considered to be the final resting place of Adi Sankaracharya. By afternoon we reached our base camp at Rampur and after a brief lunch, we started from Kedarnath and reached Badrinath (at an elevation of 11200 ft) which was the abode of Lord Narayana amidst an evening which was weathering a mild snow storm at the elevation of 11200 ft. Whenever we saw each other during the brief meetings through the day, I was talking with her though the full force of silence unhindered by the limitations of explicit words. Ramana Maharshi would have been proud of me for using silence as the means if not for the ends for which it had been used. In Badrinath, there was a large government operated hotel for the pilgrims. There were atleast 200 rooms spread over a multitude of sections. With pilgrims constantly arriving and clamoring for rooms, it would indeed be a miracle to get adjacent rooms for people arriving at different times. As we took our rooms, I could not see her family anywhere nearby and there was about a decent sized line behind us. We choose a room on the farthest corridor as it had some rooms on the ground floor. I challenged God that his schemes would fail here as it was very difficult for us to be in adjacent corridors leave alone rooms. Having thus challenged Him, I went to take a bath with hot water from the Brahm Kund. This is a natural hot water spring famous for curing many illnesses as well as the spirit.

The next morning we went to the same spring. The scalding hot bath in those extremely chilly heights was indeed worth braving the journey. Sometimes, it is necessary to go to great troubles to enjoy even simple things, brought about by the contrast. My parents were busy with some rituals and so I and my cousin returned to our room to while away time. The cousin barged in to the room to relieve himself. I lingered for a while in the corridor enjoying the vista. Just as I was about to enter my room, I heard a female voice behind me, Excuse me! Could you please tell me the way to the ritual ghat? I think my parents are there but I do not where it is and I need to contact them. It was the girl. Mercifully, this was still an age where none of us carried cell phones and no one felt as if their survival was being challenged bereft of these mass restlessness spreading devices. I gripped my throat to croak a Sure which was more of a reflex action. No coherent thought was possible anymore. All this time, I was talking with my eyes. Where eyes seemed to be expressive, my throat and tongue could not take up the challenge. Somehow I managed to let out some directions. She did not seem to hear me as if I she already knew the path to the ghat. She was staring me intensely with amusement. Her proximity had taken an expansive toll on my heart which I heard falling to the floor. No longer my young heart bear the burning and I shot into my room awkwardly. In a few seconds, I darted out again to ash her name having regained some courage. I saw her going into the room with just one other room separating us. If this was not a premeditated divine intervention, I felt nothing else could be. Four days, four separate places and out of atleast 40 different families in our troop, why should she be the one next to me if not for the reason that she were to occupy the place next to me the whole of my lifetime? Throughout that day and most of that evening, I stared at her directly caring for no one. Once or thrice, I saw her brother eating me with malicious looks. I gave him an amused, belittling and crushing look and leisurely turned my attentions to their nest. Poor fella! I can only guess how hard he must have cursed me. Later in the day, I went to the colorful temple of Badrinath befitting its occupant, Lord Narayana. I repeated my new prayer in front of Him. I reasoned that I had a better chance in front of Narayana at Badri than in Kedar in front of the Supreme Sadhu, Lord Shiva. Shiva might still try to make me an ascetic. See, I am a peace loving person and did not want these two powerful Gods fighting over me. So as not to create a rift between these two, I compromised that if for any reason I had to forgo this girl, I will never marry and be a Sadhu for the rest of my life. Worth mentioned are two other spots close to Badrinath. One was the cave where Veda Vyasa himself was supposed to have meditated. I went and meditated for a while but it turned out to be a meditation on the girl. So I sheepishly came out hoping that my action did not register with God yet. Nearby this cave, you could see a roaring, awe inspiring Saraswathi River for a stretch of 100 ft or so. This is the only place where this river could be seen and the rest of it flows underground. I definitely did not want to fall into these waters as I still looked forward to a life with the girl prominently featuring in it. A few kilometers further and you would come to the border town of Mana. This was the last place before you hit China. That night having been to all the places on our predetermined list, our bus group started its backward journey to New Delhi, its starting place to complete the circle of the journey.

End of Day FourDays Five and Six The end of a beginning

I had mixed feelings throughout the last leg of the journey. The joy of seeing her was ever present. But another feeling, a growing pain gradually seemed to fill my senses as the day progressed. Whenever and wherever I could, I saw her never mustering enough courage to ask her name. Maybe I did not need a name at that time. When I could see and hear her, what was the use in a paltry name?I could sense the same despair in her. Rudra Prayag, Srinagar, Dev Prayag and Rishikesh passed behind us quickly and we were returning back to level grounds leaving behind the Garwhal Himalayan ranges. It was then I began to doubt God. Would he forget us? Did he have much more important things in this Universe? A much more saddening thought entered my mind. Was this a test to my Sadhus career? Or was it an irony that only God can conceive of and execute so beautifully? Was he laughing at my expense?With Delhi ever so close now, there was a thing that I wished to do now. Before she left me, I should somehow ask her name and the address in Hyderabad where she lived. That she was from my State was evident from her language. I know she was from Hyderabad from the tidbits of conversation I heard from her family. The morning or the sixth day, we reached Delhi and Carolbagh marking the end of our journey. Most of the passengers from our group lodged at hotel of the travel agency. I went in quickly to book a room as the medium rated ones would be over quickly. Having completed this task, I hurried into the hotel longue to see her. I could not find her or any of her family members. I ran out into the street to see if there were still there. Only then it entered my mind that they might have other ideas than to join us in the same hotel something unthinkable till now given the proceedings of the past. Frantically, I perused the street with the eyes of a hawk. It was then I found the sight that I was pining for. But something was not correct with the picture my eyes captured. It was moving. They were in a car going away from me. The car was on the opposite lane and I had no chance to even say good bye. The traffic was too heavy to cross. She turned and saw me from the window, her eyes probably moist. I stood there watching for about 10 minutes. I was too shocked to register any visible emotion. Gradually a crushing, overpowering feeling burned my heart with the intensity of a typhoon over a hut. I cannot put words to this despair. It was like leaving a house you had been living your entire life, like knowing that you will never see a city dearest to your heart. I was like having an incredible dream when your life was at its nadir and then realizing it was just a dream. I was like all these thoughts heightened a hundred times and blasted in a single instant on you. I never knew how I reached my room and went through the routine of the day. All of it was in a daze and I cannot recollect when I regained my senses. The only thing I remember was a feeling that she was lost to me forever. Shiva had won over Narayana.End of the Journey

LeftoversA few days later following a brief tour to Mathura and the Taj Mahal, we reached Hyderabad. My cousin returned to his family where he came from. Even he sensed that I was not myself and I was impervious to all his misdeeds. He himself may pass through this phase some day. The moments when I would remember intensely were becoming less and less. If it is anything, time is a magnificent healer with no compare. It even heals the worst of the diseases with a shot of death serum. What is my pain compared to that? My bruised heart healed albeit slowly. But there would be a scarforever. In the coming days, I tried to analyze why I was so deeply attracted to a girl from just a few days of acquaintance. Was it because she was good looking? Or was it due to her lively nature? Or that she was the only person in my age group in our trip with me at a ripe stage? Or was it a predetermined effort of the cosmos to test my character and make it strong to endure the hardships of being an ascetic? Was it just a random event that occurs when people from different places are brought together for a few hours? Whatever the reason might be, I am unable to overcome the feeling that I will not see her again. Two more months passed and it is a lovely August night today. The wind is cool and the air, fresh. It is a full moon night and the moon was glowing today. It is really a pity if someone were to miss this periodic exhibit of the nature soothing millions of burning hearts and tired souls across the nation. Too frequently we forget that it is simple to be happy. I suddenly have an idea. Maybe she was also watching the same moon from across the city wherever she was living at that very instant? O moon! If she is watching you now as well, could you please send her my message in form of your silent radiance? Could you please don the garb of an emotional satellite transmitting the messages of us humans across the globe?Dear moon! Could you tell her that she has tormented me like no one has ever before and perhaps it would ease my heart to know that she was as much tormented by me. Tell her she has given me great joy and pain, which is more, I know not. My faithful moon! Tell her that I tried to give her memories a name. Many poetic names have I conceived and some I borrowed from the annals of literature. Yet there was no one name which would stay attached to her image. Tell her I am much troubled by her elusiveness. If ever I had a reason to be angry with her, it is because that I do not know her name. It is something like eating a delicious item and not knowing what it is made of. It is like watching an unknown beautiful movie through midway and unable to complete it. It is like humming a tune, the lyrics of which you cannot remember. It is like simply not knowing her name. As much as I would like to see her again, I still do not know what I want from her save her name and her proximity.

Oh moon! I beseech you to convey my message. I, Shiva of the mortals command you to send my message.Epilogue

She was staring at the full moon and enjoying the peace. Such times were rare now in Hyderabad. The last time she enjoyed such was in Srinagar on the way to Kedarnath a few months ago.

All of a sudden, she felt the moon was something different that day. The moon seemed to be beckoning her. Whatever the cause, she was suddenly reminded of her recent trip as if she had just come out of it. She was suddenly engulfed in melancholy. Her thoughts seemed to hover around a person, a person she could not ever give a name.