The Immortals of Meluha
Page 60
‘Well, I think it reflects poor manners. It shows, perhaps, a slight deficiency in character.’
‘On the contrary, I think it shows tremendous character. It shows you have the strength and passion to speak your mind.’
The Pandit guffawed, shaking his head slightiy.
‘In any case,’ continued Shiva. ‘Since you are here, why don’t you tell me what your people are called? I was promised I would be told the next time I met one of you.’
‘But you haven’t met one of us again. This is a dream. I can only tell you what you already know,’ said the Pandit, smiling mysteriously. ‘Or something that already exists in your consciousness that you haven’t chosen to listen to as yet.’
‘So that’s what this is about! You are here to help me find something I already know!’
‘Yes,’ said the Pandit, his smile growing more enigmatic.
‘Well, what is it that we are supposed to talk about?’
‘The colour of that leaf,’ beamed the Pandit, pointing towards the many trees that could be seen from the temple, through its ostentatiously carved pillars.
‘The colour of that leaf?!’
‘Yes.’
Frowning strongly, Shiva sighed, ‘Why, in the name of the Holy Lake, is the colour of that leaf important?’
‘Many times a good conversational journey to find knowledge makes attaining it that much more satisfying,’ said the Pandit. ‘And more importantly, it helps you understand the context of the knowledge much more easily.’
‘Context of the knowledge?’
‘Yes. All knowledge has its context. Unless you know the context, you may not understand the point.’
‘And I’ll know all that by talking about the colour of that leaf?’
‘Yes.’
‘By the Holy Lake, man!’ groaned Shiva. ‘Let’s talk about the leaf then.’
‘All right,’ laughed the Pandit. ‘Tell me. What is the colour of that leaf?’
‘The colour? It’s green.’
‘Is it?’
‘Isn’t it?
‘Why do you think it appears green to you?’
‘Because,’ said Shiva, amused, ‘it is green.’
‘No. That wasn’t what I was trying to ask. You had a conversation with one of Brahaspati’s scientists about how the eyes see. Didn’t you?’
‘Oh that, right,’ said Shiva slapping his forehead. ‘Light falls on an object. And when it reflects back from that object to your eyes, you see that object.’
‘Exactly! And you had another conversation with another scientist about what normal white sunlight is made of.’
‘Yes, I did. White light is nothing but the confluence of seven different colours. That is why the rainbow is made up of seven colours since it is formed when raindrops disperse sunlight.’
‘Correct! Now put these two theories together and answer my question. Why does that leaf appear green to you?’
Shiva frowned as his mind worked the problem out. White sunlight falls on that leaf. The leaf’s physical properties are such that it absorbs the colours violet, indigo, blue, yellow, orange and red. It doesn’t absorb the colour green, which is then reflected back to my eyes. Hence I see the leaf as green.’
‘Exactly!’ beamed the Pandit. ‘So think about the colour of that leaf from the perspective of the leaf itself. What colour it absorbs and what it rejects. Is its colour green? Or is it every single colour in the world, except green?’
Shiva was stunned into silence by the simplicity of the argument being presented to him.
‘There are many realities. There are many versions of what may appear obvious,’ continued the Pandit. ‘Whatever appears as the unshakeable truth, the exact opposite may also be true in another context. It is the context or perspective that you’re looking from that moulds which particular reality you see.’
Shiva turned slowly towards the leaf again. Its lustrous green colour shone through in the glorious sunlight.
‘Are your eyes capable of seeing another reality?’ asked the Pandit.
Shiva continued to stare at the leaf as it gradually altered its appearance. The colour seemed to be dissolving out of the leaf as its bright green hue gradually grew lighter and lighter. It slowly reduced itself to a shade of grey. As a stunned Shiva continued to stare, even the grey seemed to dissolve slowly, till the leaf was almost transparent. Only its outline could be discerned. There appeared to be numerous curved lines of two colours, black and white, moving in and out of the outline of the leaf. It almost appeared as if the leaf was nothing but a carrier, which the black and white curved lines used as a temporary stop on their eternal journey.
It took some time for Shiva to realise that the surrounding leaves had also been transformed into their outlines. As his eyes panned, he noticed that the entire tree had magically transformed into an outline, with the black and white curved lines flowing in and out, easily and smoothly. He turned his head to soak in the panorama. Every object, from the squirrels on the trees to the pillars of the temple had all been transformed into outlines of their selves. The same black and white curved lines streamed in and out of them.
Turning to the Pandit to ask for an explanation, he was stunned to see that the priest himself was also transformed into an outline of his former self. White curved lines were flooding out of him with frightening intensity. Strangely though, there were no black lines around him.
‘What the...’
Shiva’s words were stopped by the outline of the Pandit pointing back at him. ‘Look at yourself, my Karmasaafhi,’ advised the Pandit.
Shiva looked down. ‘I’ll be damned!’
His body too had been transformed into an outline, completely transparent inside. Torrents of black curved lines were gushing furiously into him. He looked at the lines closely to notice that that they were not lines at all. They were, in fact, tiny waves which were jet black in colour. The waves were so tiny that from even a slight distance, they appeared like lines. There wasn’t even a hint of the white waves close to Shiva’s outlined body. ‘What the hell is going on?’
‘The white waves are positive energy and the black negative,’ said the Pandit’s outline. ‘They are both important. Their balance crucial. If they fall out of sync, cataclysm will occur.’
Shiva looked up at the Pandit, puzzled. ‘So why is there no positive energy around me? And no negative energy around you?’
‘Because we balance each other. The Vishnu’s role is to transmit positive energy’ said the Pandit. The white lines pouring feverishly out of the Pandit seemed to flutter a bit whenever he spoke. ‘And the Mahadev’s role is to absorb the negative. Search for it. Search for negative energy and you will fulfil your destiny as a Mahadev.’
‘But I am no Mahadev. My deeds till now don’t make me deserve that tide.’
‘It doesn’t work that way, my friend. You don’t earn a tide after you have done your deeds. You do your deeds because of and only after you believe that you already are the Mahadev. It doesn’t matter what others think. It’s about what you believe. Believe you are the Mahadev, and you will be one.’
Shiva frowned.
‘Believe!’ repeated the Pandit.
‘On the contrary, I think it shows tremendous character. It shows you have the strength and passion to speak your mind.’
The Pandit guffawed, shaking his head slightiy.
‘In any case,’ continued Shiva. ‘Since you are here, why don’t you tell me what your people are called? I was promised I would be told the next time I met one of you.’
‘But you haven’t met one of us again. This is a dream. I can only tell you what you already know,’ said the Pandit, smiling mysteriously. ‘Or something that already exists in your consciousness that you haven’t chosen to listen to as yet.’
‘So that’s what this is about! You are here to help me find something I already know!’
‘Yes,’ said the Pandit, his smile growing more enigmatic.
‘Well, what is it that we are supposed to talk about?’
‘The colour of that leaf,’ beamed the Pandit, pointing towards the many trees that could be seen from the temple, through its ostentatiously carved pillars.
‘The colour of that leaf?!’
‘Yes.’
Frowning strongly, Shiva sighed, ‘Why, in the name of the Holy Lake, is the colour of that leaf important?’
‘Many times a good conversational journey to find knowledge makes attaining it that much more satisfying,’ said the Pandit. ‘And more importantly, it helps you understand the context of the knowledge much more easily.’
‘Context of the knowledge?’
‘Yes. All knowledge has its context. Unless you know the context, you may not understand the point.’
‘And I’ll know all that by talking about the colour of that leaf?’
‘Yes.’
‘By the Holy Lake, man!’ groaned Shiva. ‘Let’s talk about the leaf then.’
‘All right,’ laughed the Pandit. ‘Tell me. What is the colour of that leaf?’
‘The colour? It’s green.’
‘Is it?’
‘Isn’t it?
‘Why do you think it appears green to you?’
‘Because,’ said Shiva, amused, ‘it is green.’
‘No. That wasn’t what I was trying to ask. You had a conversation with one of Brahaspati’s scientists about how the eyes see. Didn’t you?’
‘Oh that, right,’ said Shiva slapping his forehead. ‘Light falls on an object. And when it reflects back from that object to your eyes, you see that object.’
‘Exactly! And you had another conversation with another scientist about what normal white sunlight is made of.’
‘Yes, I did. White light is nothing but the confluence of seven different colours. That is why the rainbow is made up of seven colours since it is formed when raindrops disperse sunlight.’
‘Correct! Now put these two theories together and answer my question. Why does that leaf appear green to you?’
Shiva frowned as his mind worked the problem out. White sunlight falls on that leaf. The leaf’s physical properties are such that it absorbs the colours violet, indigo, blue, yellow, orange and red. It doesn’t absorb the colour green, which is then reflected back to my eyes. Hence I see the leaf as green.’
‘Exactly!’ beamed the Pandit. ‘So think about the colour of that leaf from the perspective of the leaf itself. What colour it absorbs and what it rejects. Is its colour green? Or is it every single colour in the world, except green?’
Shiva was stunned into silence by the simplicity of the argument being presented to him.
‘There are many realities. There are many versions of what may appear obvious,’ continued the Pandit. ‘Whatever appears as the unshakeable truth, the exact opposite may also be true in another context. It is the context or perspective that you’re looking from that moulds which particular reality you see.’
Shiva turned slowly towards the leaf again. Its lustrous green colour shone through in the glorious sunlight.
‘Are your eyes capable of seeing another reality?’ asked the Pandit.
Shiva continued to stare at the leaf as it gradually altered its appearance. The colour seemed to be dissolving out of the leaf as its bright green hue gradually grew lighter and lighter. It slowly reduced itself to a shade of grey. As a stunned Shiva continued to stare, even the grey seemed to dissolve slowly, till the leaf was almost transparent. Only its outline could be discerned. There appeared to be numerous curved lines of two colours, black and white, moving in and out of the outline of the leaf. It almost appeared as if the leaf was nothing but a carrier, which the black and white curved lines used as a temporary stop on their eternal journey.
It took some time for Shiva to realise that the surrounding leaves had also been transformed into their outlines. As his eyes panned, he noticed that the entire tree had magically transformed into an outline, with the black and white curved lines flowing in and out, easily and smoothly. He turned his head to soak in the panorama. Every object, from the squirrels on the trees to the pillars of the temple had all been transformed into outlines of their selves. The same black and white curved lines streamed in and out of them.
Turning to the Pandit to ask for an explanation, he was stunned to see that the priest himself was also transformed into an outline of his former self. White curved lines were flooding out of him with frightening intensity. Strangely though, there were no black lines around him.
‘What the...’
Shiva’s words were stopped by the outline of the Pandit pointing back at him. ‘Look at yourself, my Karmasaafhi,’ advised the Pandit.
Shiva looked down. ‘I’ll be damned!’
His body too had been transformed into an outline, completely transparent inside. Torrents of black curved lines were gushing furiously into him. He looked at the lines closely to notice that that they were not lines at all. They were, in fact, tiny waves which were jet black in colour. The waves were so tiny that from even a slight distance, they appeared like lines. There wasn’t even a hint of the white waves close to Shiva’s outlined body. ‘What the hell is going on?’
‘The white waves are positive energy and the black negative,’ said the Pandit’s outline. ‘They are both important. Their balance crucial. If they fall out of sync, cataclysm will occur.’
Shiva looked up at the Pandit, puzzled. ‘So why is there no positive energy around me? And no negative energy around you?’
‘Because we balance each other. The Vishnu’s role is to transmit positive energy’ said the Pandit. The white lines pouring feverishly out of the Pandit seemed to flutter a bit whenever he spoke. ‘And the Mahadev’s role is to absorb the negative. Search for it. Search for negative energy and you will fulfil your destiny as a Mahadev.’
‘But I am no Mahadev. My deeds till now don’t make me deserve that tide.’
‘It doesn’t work that way, my friend. You don’t earn a tide after you have done your deeds. You do your deeds because of and only after you believe that you already are the Mahadev. It doesn’t matter what others think. It’s about what you believe. Believe you are the Mahadev, and you will be one.’
Shiva frowned.
‘Believe!’ repeated the Pandit.
