I recently heard the pathetic story of a known person who died of cancer. He was in teaching, taught in government college, had a wonderful family with two lovely daughters. At one point of time, the wife died. He became very lonely but managed to live as the daughters were there. One day he came to know that he was suffering from cancer. Doctors told that nothing much could be done except prolonging the pain with the help of treatment. He chose to keep his disease a secret and never revealed anything to the daughters until two days before his death. The daughters were shocked.
They stayed in a rented house and none of the daughters was married. There were no relatives to fall back on. But the father's time had come and he died leaving the girls orphans, left to fend for themselves. Till date they are struggling to make a proper living and move around asking for monetary help from little known people.
I was shocked to hear the story.Shocked at the way life can toss people about, making them playthings of fate.
Not only the professor and his daughter, so many people suffer in numerous ways, without any fault of theirs. We can say, they should have done this or done that, would have planned better.But above all our plans there is another planner who holds the cards. So, what are we to do? Should we give in and suffer unending, or gather our faculties and rebuild our lives. Suffering in life is inevitable. Disappointments are a part of life. Through it , we would have to go into silence for a while, and understand our actions and our purpose of living. From this silence, when light descends on our heart, darkness has to go. And once we are standing in the light, our actions will be exemplary, in love, in bearing, in courage. We are divine beings. We only need to understand what we are.
For the last fifty years or more, Goddess Laxmi is paying her customary visit to Dhenkanal starting with the day of Kumar Purnima. No, the people of Dhenkanal are bringing her to her earthly abode for an eleven days long stay in the small town that turns crazy in her presence. Starting from Govindpur, a roadside village in the outskirts of the city till Station Square, the city is decked like a bride. An unbroken chain of colourful lights illuminates the city as soon as darkness falls.
Goddesses sit on decorated pandals in their full glory. The atmosphere seems so intoxicating that some residents of the city wish that the celebrations never ended.
Dhenkanal , being a small town has a straight road running through the market. And unlike any other city in Orissa, the main attraction of the Laxmipuja celebrations is that you can the whole distance on foot with family or friends and go on watching the idols, the decorations etc without break. The experience id really heady, you feel like being in the light and the crowd the whole night.
An ORMAS(ORISSA RURAL DEVELOPMENT AND MARKETING SOCIETY) fair iS organised every year by to sponsor and help the rural businessmen and weavers who get ample business during the puja. Varieties of household items are bought and sold in the stalls starting from edible items to carpets and clothes. The fair is helpful especially to the women SELF HELP GROUPS who market their products produced throughout the year by their members.
Numerous small businessmen line the streets, either sitting on the ground with their products or vending in their stalls opened specifically for the puja. People are drawn to these stalls as flies to the fire. Besides people of Dhenkanal, people come to see the puja, from other cities as well.
When the Goddesses is immersed in water, and the decorations have been taken off, the city looks like a widow. But the people of the city go through their daily grind with the hope of the Goddess's arrival the next year.
The Laxmi puja celebrations in this hilly town of Dhenkanal are one of their kind.
The Puja brings a wondrous joy in the life of people who get relief from their monotonous, routine life and roam around in a mad frenzy and rare abandon these eleven days.
Evening had already come down on the beach by the time we reached. It’s not great to arrive at the sea at sun down because you lose the real glory of the rolling waves and the monstrous gray water body stretching for miles, the awe-invoking splendor of the unfathomable. In the evening the sea turns into a stranger, you don’t dare to go near it and it was also one day behind a full moon night.
Young people and children threw illuminated plastic balls into the water and the waves put them back to the shore gentle after a few tosses and turns. I thought the sea is losing its poetry because I felt nothing; no wonder, no respect, no joy or excitement. The timing was wrong, yes. Go in the early morning and you will come closer to an experience of realizing God.
The next morning the news channels announced the death of Jagjit Singh. Though the maestro was ailing for sometime, just like any other news we refuse to believe easily, it was heard to digest that the mellifluous singer was dead. I didn’t feel any sorrow, but I felt like losing a soul connection which was bearable because he had reached the twilight of his life. He was a singer whose voice held honesty and goodness in a strange combination that he immediately touched you whenever you tuned in to his song. I myself am used to humming his rendition from SATH SATH- Tumko dekha to yeh khayal aya, jindegi dhoop tum Ghana sayaa….His songs not only fell on the ear like honey but they touched somewhere very deep inside. The lyrics of almost all his songs were unmatchable and the lines had truths lying scattered here and there, reminding one of the pains and suffering that streak human existence. His eyes had the honesty of a true man, a simple, uncomplicated soul who seemed to carry on his rendering of life’s journey, love, separation, heartbreak, disappointment, hope, mild sarcasm, an invitation to come and join the brigade of optimists and a thousand of other emotions and stirrings. In his death, one more connection broke.
That night, two women lay in bed in adark room listening to unforgettable songs, lost in their own thoughts. The music was soul stirring and the tears that ran down the faces were different. One’s heart cried for the lost love of her roots, the other for the lost love of a soul-mate. The night grew older and older, the music persisted until they fell asleep.
