THE INSEPARABLE

 

At the far side of the great ridge beyond the mountains in west where the sun embraced earth at dusk; stood a humble chalet. Its wooden walls had withered with age and the roof made of dried hay had holes made by hailstorms. A few smaller dwellings made of mud and grass roof dotted around it; like ducklings in attention to their mother. The fearless habitants of the settlement had not cared to fence the compound for even the beasts from the forest respected them and the sanctity of the place. It was a gurukul, the quintessence of wisdom and spiritual attainment, a monastery where streams of knowledge and faith flew in abundance like water in the river which drifted from the hills in its backyard.

 Untying the bundle of firewood, Shivank called for his friend, Daksh, another disciple in the gurukul who was cleaning the ground for setting up the hearth where supper would be cooked for the Guru and other inmates.

'We have little grains in the store today but I think, we can manage with whatever is left, can't we Daksh?' Shivank sounded worried.

'Yes Shivank, we can. Did not we learn from Guruji today that Ajivikas followers abhorred hoarding of any kind and consumed minimum and though they defied Vedas, they enlightened us on how to seek happiness in frugality,'Daksh laughed and ignited the hearth.

Shivank and Daksh were friends and soul mates, like one life in two physical bodies. They had come to this convent together from the same village and were adored by their Guru and revered by all the other disciples in the gurukul. The monastery nurtured their bonding and truthfulness to each other in its purest form, an embodiment of a truth embracing another, satiated and inseparable.

Their days passed in that temple of wisdom, learning and preparing for the next stage of their lives with other pupils before the day came when their revered Guru was to give them 'Diksha', the consecration to prepare them for their ascetic life and become apostles of consciousness and wisdom. On that auspicious day, after the morning prayers; he summoned all the pupils dressed in white loin clothes who sat around the holy fire. Thereafter Guruji consecrated them one after another by chanting mantras in front of the sacred fire while the other disciples sang Vedic hymns amidst the gentle sound of the river and fragrant fumes of incense sticks.

After all the pupils took Diksha except Shivank and Daksh, the Guru called Shivank and purified him by sprinkling water from the holy rivers and placing his sandal smeared palm on his crown, chanting mantras. Then he took out a small copper vessel from the altar which was sealed and placed it in his folded palms.

'This is only for the purest and highest of the souls; Amrit, the elixir of life.' He said amidst gasps and murmur of disbelief and applause from the disciples.

'You are my most valued disciple. Upon drinking this potion, Gods will bestow on you divine health and vigour, and a life to last forever. I wish you serve the human kind with the power; for Gods have chosen you to spread light and the eternal truth.' He continued, 'Remember, this potion is not to be shared, otherwise it will no longer remain amrit but turn into ordinary water.'

 Then turning to Daksh he said,' My child, your learning is not yet over, therefore you are serving this ashram for some more time.'

The ceremony had ended, leaving everyone puzzled as Daksh was the only one who was not consecrated.

All the disciples dispersed, rejoicing at the thought of joining their families but Shivank and Daksh sat through the day huddled together and spell bound. The agony of separation had snatched their words. In last few years of togetherness, they had not imagined a world devoid of each other.

 The next morning, the jubilant pupils left home after paying their respect to the Guruji and so did Shivank, albeit with a heart laden with sorrow and remorse.

 He held Daksh in his embrace and whispered in his ears with tear laden eyes, 'I shall be waiting for you.' Then he left, dragging himself away.

 But Shivank had no plans to go back to his home. Not very far away from the gurukul, on the other side of the ridge, he made a small hut of twigs and dried leaves and waited for his companion. Months passed and finally the day came when Daksh was called by Guruji and purified with holy verses. The Guru blessed him and consecrated him.

Daksh paid his homage and gurudakshina to his Master and left the monastery. He knew that his friend, whom he had not seen since he left, would be waiting for him somewhere close. In a while, he found him in his makeshift hut with a small Banyan tree in its courtyard. Shivank had turned pale and feeble, his eyes were hollow in their sockets and his fragile body looked ravaged by hunger and the wait. They embraced and cried silently, rejoicing and savouring the re union.

'How you have become so weak, my friend. Was not the potion meant to give you good health and vigour and keep you robust?' Daksh asked him with concern and fear for his friend who looked devastated.

Shivank, who was overwhelmed on seeing his second self, smiled and said, 'How can I be selfish my brother! We all know that you deserved that potion more than me, or anyone in the ashram! I have kept it safe, waiting for you to claim! He picked up the cauldron of amrit and offered to Daksh.

Daksh was spell bound.

'No my brother, you are the chosen one and it is you who truly deserves this elixir and who would be happier than me if you become immortal!' Daksh refused.

Shivank smiled and looked at Daksh, 'My dear friend, had not we pledged to live a life together; like brothers from the same womb and vowed to remain one! Are not we bound by our oath of sharing happiness and misery equally and face life and death with the same breath of ours! If this elixir of life is meant for only one of us, I would prefer death to immortality or any other virtue of this universe.

 They came out with the copper pot to the Holy Banyan tree Shivank had grown in front of the hut.

'I had sown this sapling the day I came here, to mark our together- ness and sacred friendship. Let it grow and live forever, for it would be the denotation for our friendship and apostle of peace and harmony.' Shivank smiled. Daksh nodded and they held the cauldron of eternal life together and poured the 'Amrit' in the roots of the Banyan tree.