Magic Dal

A frustrated and enlightened Sheshan walked past the crowd in the street, through the traffic that never went silent, the crowd of vendors that kept calling out from the pavements, the army of feral cats that lived in the same corner day after day. He had his mind made up. Enough is enough. The wisdom he possessed was not understood by anyone, at home, among friends or even at the library. But the week before, everything changed. As if it was meant to be. The train had so many empty seats, yet the Guru chose to sit beside him. Sheshan felt so special. He always felt he was special. Wiser and learned than his brothers. Sheshan was gifted, so he felt. He finally found someone to open his mind. The Guru was no ordinary Sadhu. A yogi, who had been in meditation in the Himalayas for 17 long years. They conversed. Sheshan opened up with his desire. He wanted away from human interaction. The human body itself was burdening him. He wanted a bird rebirth. Not any ordinary bird, but the one that flies alone, the one that flies highest. Sheshan, the eagle. His heart was in deep desire.

As he reached the Guru’s dingy old apartment, the smell of rotten flowers and burning Agarbatti swished into the nostrils. He was offered a bowl of cooked Dal. It looked like a mushy, orange paste. There was no spoon, he had to tilt the bowl as the dirty rim touched his lips. No spilling. The Guru had warned. And Sheshan’s mind should be fixated on the eagle. Only the eagle. He prepared himself for the huge change, tilting the bowl as the dal fell into his mouth and fixated on his desire. Suddenly a pigeon flew in through the window towards him. ” Ugh! A pigeon” he screamed.

The bowl fell crashing on the floor, as the Guru stood up in terror. Sheshan, the pigeon flew out as The Guru continued standing with his jaws open.

Sheshan, the pigeon felt he was special. He never understood the stupidity of his people, oops, birds. All-day long, he would stare at the humans who walked, rode, ran and lived in the street. What enlightened beings, he would think. Sheshan, the pigeon was gifted, he felt.

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