A Dream at Daybreak

The crowd was pushing fast to the sides of the narrow street, clearing the way for someone of importance. Cornered near the entrance of a memento shop, I heard a chant growing louder and louder - approaching us boldly from the main street.

"Jai Ganesh Ji ki Jai!! Jai Ganesh Ji ki Jai!!"

I stood up on my toes to see a palanquin arriving on the shoulders of two men. I would've assumed there was an idol of Lord Ganesha inside had it not been for the sudden glimpse of a disproportionately swollen hand peeking out of the curtains and waving at the gathered masses. Before I could peep inside the palanquin, it had crossed us and was about to enter the Temple of the Goddess Tara.

Gradually, the excitement dimmed and the streets were reduced to normality. My 'pujari' told me that I should be visiting the Burning Ghats now. After praying at the temple, this is the custom, to remember our forefathers and to pay our respects to the souls of the departed. So I followed him down the crowded street, rather unwillingly. As I entered the Ghats, gingerly placing my bare feet on the moist soil, an unusual calm gripped me. It was the kind of calm you wanted to break free from, not the type that will let you breathe easy. The entire region was forested and under each tree sat a hermit. Some recited chants, eyes closed, hands flailing frantically in the air; some read people's palms; while others sat with blood-red eyes, human skulls placed on their mats. I had heard folklore about these very Ghats and the hermits who sat here. Things did seem to match.

Now suddenly, I noticed the Lord Ganesha from a few minutes ago. The more I stared, the more my emotions transitioned from wonder to worry. He was a young boy, barely twelve years of age. His entire head was swollen to resemble that of Lord Ganesha's. His fingers too were joined and swollen. He could barely speak. Dressed in saffron, he sat on a mat under a tree, collection box in place. The man who sat beside him screamed from time to time,"Ashun, Pranami din, Ganesh baba ashirbad korben.." (Come one and all, drop your donations here, Lord Ganesha will bless you..) By Lord Ganesha he meant the boy.
The boy was suffering from a serious medical condition. God forbid, he live longer than he looks like he will live on for. But to him and his family, it was a means to earn some extra income. He on the other hand perhaps thought he was blessed and had a special connection with Ganesha.

That day, I couldn't understand him. But today, when I woke up after an early morning dream about Lord Kedar, I felt weird yet empowered. I have been reading the Koran for a literary experience since the last two days and I instantly remembered the time Angel Gabriel had caught the Prophet in a dream and proclaimed to him," Recite, Your Lord is the Most Bountiful One." I felt special and supreme, like the Lord had chosen to spend some time with me inspite of the billion others who lived at the time in the country, spanning its acres North to South and East to West, dreaming of family life or adventure or of spirits.

I got off the bed, went up to my mom and said," Mom, Lord Kedar gave me a dream. Today, you ALL should obey ME."

Of course the outcome would be as good for the world as was that boy's preserving his illness to earn extra bucks!