Wednesday, 16 October 2019

Posts from Celebratory 40th Issue of Re-Markings Vol 18 No.2 September 2019





Short Story

The Non-Veg Prasad

Manoranjan Behura

Udayanath, the self proclaimed richest man of Basantapur, looked very much busy though he did not have any work to do for the grand annual feast he had been arranging near the shrine of the village deity for a decade. He was a tall, whitish man having a big rounded belly which seemed an extra burden for him. His grey hair often stood straight.  He often took the help of mustard oil to keep the unruly hair of his head in proper order. He felt smart putting on a new white dhoti. He put on a new dhoti and clad in a gamcha both ocher in color that symbolized sacrifice. Udayanath put a long and wide sandal paste that covered his entire forehead and he walked barefoot.
It was dawn but Basantpur was vibrating with the sound of DJ loud speakers so no one could sleep. Many people including men, women and children were going to the river Birupa for early bath to earn blessings because it was Kartika Purnima. The riverside also resound-ded with fire crackers. The young people threw fire crackers in the air to burst loudly whenever they saw the village belle enter the river water. Some firecrackers fell on the river water without bursting and some functioned partially emitting only a spark of light. The young boys immediately used unparliamentary language against manufac-turers of firecrackers for cheating.
The Sun piped out emitting its red color. The river water looked red. Small boats made of colored paper and thermocol filled the river water. The candle twinkling in these boats began to mingle and some other went out failing to bear the stocks of the wind. The riverside was empty and the river water was filled with boats and fragments of half- burnt palm leaves.
The village Basantapur was quaking. What one said in his room the other could not listen. The DJ loud speakers set near the shrine of village deity Mangala were overpowering all voices. If anybody wanted to communicate on phone, he had to use the sms mode. The old diseased people who could not walk properly felt living in hell and consoled themselves seeing their grandchildren enjoying.
Binod Kar, a ninety-one-year-old priest, said to his grandson, “What the loud speakers say I cannot understand. It is only emitting high pitched sound like a giant that I had read in the great epics.” His young grandson Ramesh, who was a volunteer, said in a stammering voice, “Grandpa, it is DJ. Without lou…lou…louder spea…speakers the village deity cannot be worshipped.” Grandfather noticed that Ramesh was under the spell of alcohol though he seemed in a controlled state.
Binod Kar rarely went outside because he couldn’t move. Sitting on the verandah he had to bear the old-age pain. The high pitched loud speakers had doubled his suffering. One of his neighbours and contemporaries Gopinatha came to him to pass time. Gopinath said, while sitting near him on the ground, “Binod have you taken Prasad? Today is Kartika Purnima, the most pious day of the year. It may be our last Kartika Purnima.” “If it is my last Kartika Purnima, then god has granted my prayer” said Binod Kar with disgust.
The young people were enjoying most. Some of them were dancing near the shrine of the village deity. Here a grand party had been arranged by Udayanath. He arranged a feast here every year for more than thousand people. The meal called Prasad was first offered to the deity then served to the people.
Preparation of the Prasad started in the early morning hours. More than three cooks and five helpers were busy in the preparation. People from the nearby areas started gathering. The meal would be served at noon. Before that people including children thronged here to take Prasad. It was named Prasad but really it was the most delicious food prepared. Udayanath had been arranging such feast for a decade.
It was said that his only son Bapi failed twice in the matriculation examination. The entire family felt humiliated because Udayanath was a government servant. He earned a handsome salary. Almost all the people of the area called him Udaya Babu. When his neighbor Ghanashyam’s son passed in the first division, the blood pressure of Udayanath rose. He spent many sleepless nights thinking how Ghanasyam’s son passed. The next year his son Bapi took the exam but failed again. Udayanath was very much perturbed. His wife promised to offer Prasad to the village deity if their son passed the supplementary examination. Luckily, his only son managed to pass due to the teachers’ strike during the exam. Since that year Udayanath has been arranging Prasad on the occasion of the Kartika Purnima.
Really, the Prasad distribution became a grand function. People of Basantpur and its neighboring areas came voluntarily to take Prasad which was very delicious. In this way Udayanath earned a lot of reputation. All over the area everybody talked before a month that Udaya Babu’s function would be an important function because he distributed grand meals and earned a lot of dharma.  Such comments encouraged Udayanath and his family to expand the feast even adding other items like khir and paneer.
When the function was going on Udayanath went to the middle of the row where people ate and asked how it tasted? People known to him said, “Well Udaya, the Prasad of goddess is really ambrosia.”  Udaya-nath’s chest expanded and his reddish eyes were rounded and swelled with water. With folded palms he said, “I am a mere man but everything is done by Maa, the deity.”  
The crowded place vibrated with the loud speakers and the village young men who acted as volunteers had set six boxes of loud speakers on the ground. The sound was likely to crack the ears of a healthy man. Everybody felt uneasy but nobody spoke anything and were tolerant in the name of the deity. Some said, “Let us bear the pain till evening. Only once in a year is Kartika Purnima.”
Some educated young people who could not tolerate the sound put the index figures of their two hands on the ears. They often requested them to reduce the volume of the loud speakers but their request was turned down citing that money had been paid so that they should utilize it fully. The high-pitched sound compelled them to leave the place without taking Prasad.
People felt irritated and they seemed to have no patience to wait. Some people waited to take Prasad and some others stood for their turn behind the people who were seated in a row. When a man rose up from his place after taking the Prasad the man behind him immediately filled his seat though the used plate had not been removed. In this way the two big rows on the dusty road continued without break till the end.
Some people of the nearby area brought pots to take different items because their family members could not come to the place. The volunteers who served in the different pots filled in the pots full and half as per their personal relationship. If one asked for more khir or curry the volunteers said, “No, lots of people are there to eat. There may be a shortage of Prasad.”
The Sun went westward. The winter started to exercise its influence. The dinner near the village deity was about to end, leaving the place dirty. The left-out food items filled the dining area. As a result, the dusts were running out for twilight. The piles of plates were thrown on the two sides of the roads where street dogs were fighting among themselves. Suddenly the loud speakers ceased to function leaving the place calm. Everybody uttered spontaneously, “Oh! What a peace! Power cut is a blessing for us.”
Udayanath told the volunteers, “You have worked a lot. You must be hungry, please let us take the Prasad.” Kalia, a college-going boy said, “No, we have taken Prasad while distributing. When we go to the hearths we eat khir and our stomach is full. Only you are left to take prasasd.” Udayanath realized Kalia was dead drunk and preferred to remain silent.
The Sun did not look red though it was in the western sky. A car stopped on the square where the deity was installed. A man came out of the car and pranammed the deity. Udayanath and other volunteers marked him. Udayanath shouted, “Oh Sadhuji, you are here! Please bless me taking the Prasad.” The Sadhu was about to enter into the car and looked back when Udayanath said so. He approached the Sadhu with folded hands and touched his feet for blessing. Other volunteers also followed Udayanath and touched the feet of the Sadhu for blessing. With a smiling face the Sadhu said, “May god bless you.”
The ever-smiling Sadhu said, “May god bless you but I can’t eat this though I desperately need food now.” The Sadhu raised his hand towards his disciple. The young disciple handed him over a bottle of water. He sipped that water and smiled. Again, Udayanath prayed to him to take Prasad saying, “you are the son of a landlord. Leaving the lucrative government job you have been spreading the message of love, sacrifice and tolerance for three decades. I would be pleased if you take Prasad.” The smiling of the sadhu had not dissolved on his face; he again widened the smiling and said, “If you want to give me something then give me the banana that lies near the deserted kalasa.” One young boy suddenly picked up the banana and handed it over to the Sadhu. The Sadhu skinned it, took it with great pleasure and said, “May god keep the man who has grown up such sweet banana happy and disease-free forever.” Without applying any sense, Udayanath said, “Sadhuji my octogenarian father has grown this banana in our yard. I often requested him to take rest but he still keeps working.” The Sadhu looked grave and told after a pause, “Such types of great souls who provide us veg-food will be found no more after some days and the entire food will be non-veg. Actually, I generally take veg…” The Sadhu had not finished his sentence. Udayanath said folding his hands again, “Sadhuji, all the items prepared before the deity are veg.” Sadhu smiled and told, “My son you should know everything earned by labour is accepted by god. Anything earned under the table will not please god if served as Prasad, rather god will be displeased with it. You know all the Prasads served now-a-days are non-veg as they contain the sweat and blood of the poor who were made to pay bribes to the government employees.”
The whitish face of Udayanath looked pale. He did not know what to do. He understood the essence of what the Sadhu said.
The Sadhu’s face was radiating with smile. He opened the door of his car and entered into it. Udayanath and his team approached the Sadhu. Udayanath bent down and touched the feet of the Sadhu and said, “I may kindly be pardoned.” The Sadhu said, “You can get the cosmic pardon if you realize your deeds.” The car rolled away and disappeared in a moment but the words of the sadhu lingered in his mind.
The young boys of the village were busy folding the tents and some were carrying the pot to clean and other were packing food in the polythene packs. Udayanath sat on the shrine of the deity unmoved as if he was meditating. All left. the Sun had already set before the Sadhu’s departure but Udayanath was still sitting at the shrine.
The Sun had set covering the world in darkness but a new Sun rose inside Udayanath dispelling all the darkness inside him. He felt he had found the right route. Without any remorse for the past, he had to proceed on the new path he accidentally discovered. He could see how the poor and backward people bribed him for their work. Actually, they did not have the capacity to pay but they had to pay out of compulsion otherwise their work would not be done. The hard-earned money often went in bribe with which they could have eaten twice a day.
Udaynath realized how much money he had earned as bribe in his thirty years’ career. He spent these in unnecessary activities for earning false applause. He realized that the work assigned to him by the Almighty should be performed by him perfectly so that he could earn the blessings of the god.
·        Dr. Manoranjan Behura is Lecturer in English at Mahanga Puspgiri Mahavidyalaya, Erakana, Cuttack, Odisha.

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Published in Re-Markings Vol. 18 No. 2 September 2019 (www.re-markings.com)
Copyright Nibir K. Ghosh 2019.

For hard copy of the issue write to ghoshnk@hotmail.com

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