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The Indian tradition of literature, unique for its content as well as chronological development, ran in two lines : Mythological and Pragmatic.
Beginning with the Vedas at the dawn of civilisation the first line branched out into the Upanishads, gave way to the epics and the Mahapuranas, followed by Upapuranas and the rest.
The second line consisted of the Brihat Katha (the precursor of the Kathasaritsagara), the Jatakas and the Panchatantra, etc. They shed light on different aspects of life, on its worldly and other worldly complexities, sometimes didactic (as in the Jatakas) but more often simply expository of the various possibilities of life.
Between these two lines quietly ran a third, the treasure of tales told by the hermits, mendicants, ascetics and other mystics. Profound for psychological studies, sharp with mystic experiences, these tales of light, wit and delight remained a oral tradition for the most part.
We propose to serialise some of them, "retold by a master story teller of our time - one of the best-loved writers of India" - as the India's National Academy of Letters introduces the author, Manoj Das.
The Hand that Thrashed is the Hand that Nursed
Manoj Das
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The bearded thief who had entered the landlord's house tried to escape under the cover of darkness when found out and given a chase. Meanwhile Sadhu Bholababa, an inmate of a nearby Ashram, who happened to pass by, was pounced upon by some pursuers who mistook him to be the thief. Without waiting to hear the Sadhu, they began to thrash him mercilessly.
Just then the real thief was caught by another group of people. The Sadhu's persecutors realised their blunder. But it was by then too late. Sadhu Bholababa was in a state of swoon.
He was carried to his Ashram by the repentant villagers. They laid him down on his bed and fanned him and sprinkled water on his face. Some of them applied medicine on his wounds.
"Pour a little warm milk into his mouth. That should help him to regain consciousness," said an experienced elder. Accordingly warm milk was brought. An inmate of the Ashram slowly poured it into his mouth.
Sadhu Bholababa opened his eyes. As usual, a smile appeared on his face. The anxious Ashramites realised that he was out of danger.
But they were anxious to know if he had regained his wit and if his perception was normal.
"Bholababa, who is pouring milk into your mouth?" asked a friend.
"The same person," replied Bholababa. That sounded enigmatic.
"Bholababa, what do you mean by the same person?" the friend asked.
"The person who beat me is also the one who is feeding me," replied Bholababa.There is a state of consciousness in which one sees a single force at work behind everything. A person living in such a consciousness is incapable of feeling hatred even towards his persecutors.
(Manoj Das is an internationally known creative writer. He is the recipient of India’s national recognition, the Sahitya Akademi Award and the nation’s most prestigious literacy award, the Saraswati Samman. As a social commentator, his columns in India’s national dailies like The Times of India, The Hindustan Times, The Hindu and The Statesman, revealing the deeper truth and the untraced aspects behind current issues, have been highly appreciated.)
