Sunday, March 08, 2009

Monologue of the leaping boy

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Yes, that's me leaping into Gangamai! Leaping into her is like leaping into my mothers outstretched arms. It's like being born again - like having angels lift me on my toes - like having wing tips aimed for the clouds. It's great! Every morning, in summer, before school starts, I go to Gangamai to see how she is. Most times she's in a good mood. Sometimes she can be foul tempered. Today I think she is happy and a little bored. She's my God and my Mother and My Life. They say that once, a long time ago, she used to reside in Heaven. One of our great Kings prayed for her to come down to Earth. So she descended to make the whole world pious and fertile. They say that even a tiny drop of her water carried on the breeze will instantly erase the sins of many lifetimes. But there's no drops for me. I'm lucky - I get splashes!

You ask me if I am afraid when jumping? What is there to be afraid of? Tell me are you afraid when you hug your mother? Will she hurt you in her bosom? Your mother will never hurt you! And even if she does it'll be for a good reason. How do I feel when I jump? I feel it's something I have to do. If I miss out a day I feel wretched afterwards. I have noticed that I concentrate better in class If I have been to her in the mornings - and I feel happier during the day; like being wrapped in a warm glow. I like to think she watches over me. Like having a big brother though I have no bigger brothers. When I leap, when I'm in the air, with the wind in my ears, and my limbs dangling behind me like Frogs legs, I feel that I have departed this world. Is it like being elsewhere you ask? Yes, I suppose it is like being elsewhere! - In that moment I feel special as if it's only me and Gangamai in the whole world.

I remember once we went to Patna to stay with some cousins. How much I hated it! I hadn't realised how hard it was going to be - to be separated from Gangamai. I felt empty inside and was miserable for most of the time. I felt the same pangs when Amitabh Bachanan died in the movie Sholay. My family think I'm mad! But they laugh too at my silliness! My father is always quoting Rabindranath Tagore: 'Every child comes with the message that God is not yet discouraged with humanity'

I don't understand what he means, but I know it will be difficult later when I have to find a job. I don't want to move away. I want to stay here. But my mother says all good boys go to the city to find well paid work and help their mothers. Maybe when I get older Gangamai won't mean as much to me? I'll have others! Is it possible to have such an ardent love for Gangamai? Seems a bit silly don't it? I don't mind others using her but I do get a little jealous and angry if someone takes my patch - my leaping patch. I can't explain it - Gangamai doesn't speak to me directly but I can hear the echo of her thoughts. It's like she's a younger and more understanding version of my mother. I once asked my father if all wives were like that. He burst out in a fit of coughing laughter - he wouldn't stop laughing. He didn't say anything though. He just hugged me rudely and planted a big sloppy kiss and then quoted Rabindranath Tagore again:

'Every child comes with the message that God is not yet discouraged with humanity'


I still don't understand what this means. Maybe when I'm older I will?


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