|
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
heart. Now I heard distinctly a stranger, the doctor, saying to the priest that it was all over. I do not know how much time elapsed: the next thing I remember is the carters bringing in loads of wood in their cart and the priest chanting. Apparently the doctor had seen to every arrangement, but I had no eyes for the logs; only my ears were alert. I heard the priest repeating: "Birthless, deathless, changeless is the soul. He who thinks It dies knows not the truth. How can It die when It never condescended to be born? It is above change, It is above death, It is coeval with God." With the help of the carters we piled the logs up, and made them into a high bed, and slowly and carefully placed the dead upon it. We covered her with piles of sandalwood topped with ordinary timber. Though my heart was breaking, since I was her nearest relative I had to perform the last rites. I lit a brand and walked around the fire seven times, praying as the priest directed me: Akasastu niralamva Vayu bhoota nirasraya Now you are homeless in the heavens: The wind, the earth, and all the living worlds can hold you no more. Go, go to the realm of Eternal Life whence you came! The fathers of the race, The Divine Elders, greet you. Put on the vesture of God's effulgence On star-strewn vales between rivers of light go And dwell forever there where all longings are fulfilled. Now I applied the brand to the pyre and lighted it. The flames rose high as the smoke was blown sway by the wind. Not far off from where we were cremating the dead, the pilgrims, thousands at a time, came down long steps of the ghauts to take their morning dip before going to the temples to worship God at sunrise. Everything seemed sombre to me. It was not a city but a beehive of melancholy that hemmed around me. At last, at about midday, there where had been fire now lay a handful of ashes. These I gathered and flung on the stream of the Ganges: "Go, go on currents of rushing purity to the House of God where all is Peace and Perpetual Life." At that moment I felt as if something had broken within me. A slowly descending air of blackness covered and obliterated the fields across the river, the river itself, and last of all the very steps of the ghauts on which millions of people were standing. Darkness pressed on darkness until I saw nothing, smelt nothing, and felt--yes, I did feel as if a fly were crawling on my bare legs, and wherever it moved a perfect stillness followed. At last nothing but stillness rose like waters above my head. Far off something buzzed for a moment. Then that too was stilled. According to the priest I was stricken with plague. I lay between life and death for hours. All I remember is that whenever I regained consciousness I felt as if my aunt sat there brooding over me, and with her I beheld the bent face of the priest. He tried everything to save me. First he tried an English doctor and his pure European medical science. It proved of no avail. Next he tried a Hakim. Hakimi is the medical science of the Indian Moslems. In spite of its great repute, it could not save me. Then Purohit tried our own ancient Hindu medicine, Ayurveda, our old "science of longevity"; and that too pronounced the death sentence upon me. But instead of waiting for death to take me, the priest left me in the charge of a Brahmachari, a young monk, and hunted for a Hathayogi. Now you know Hathayogis are a fraternity of semi-holy men who heal and do other tricks. Most of them can perform miracles. About an hour before midnight, according to those who were present, Purohit brought a Hathayogi. The Gods alone know how he found the man. The only thing that I can vividly recall was three men's faces bending over me. I looked at them for a moment in spite of the keen pain that was cutting into my body, and instead of passing into another spell of delirium my gaze was fastened upon those faces. One of them looked at me. He was speaking: "It is not, it is not, it is not." Now he lifted one hand from under his tunic and put it on my head. It was so cool. It almost cleared my head; like a drop of ice cold water that coolness slid to my spine, then down, down toward my feet, and like layers of steaming woollen coverlets, the oppressive heat that had been smothering me slowly lifted--one coverlet at a time. And with it began the easing of the excruciating agony of my body. I felt so exhausted that I fell asleep instantly. I am told that I slept a day and a half steadily, but at last when I did awake, I was a healed man. I was confined to my bed, however, for a fortnight longer. It was nearly a month before I could take a long walk. During that time I saw the wizard that healed me twice more. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
Podobne
|