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The Mighty Juggler: Going the Full Circle
The Mighty Juggler: Going the Full Circle
The Mighty Juggler: Going the Full Circle
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The Mighty Juggler: Going the Full Circle

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How come he had landed at this tiny town? he wondered. It appeared to him a very odd choice. Then it occurred to him. He was merely being guided by some unseen force. Like when one drops a coin and cannot find it after frantically searching for it. In desperation one drops another coin of the same denominator in perhaps the identical manner to follow its trail as it rolls off. It is most likely that the second coin shall land up in close vicinity of the former. So in that sense the second inning is of commendable value for searching the first for some meaning worthy of assessment.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 25, 2015
ISBN9781482859614
The Mighty Juggler: Going the Full Circle
Author

Rita S Varma

Rita S. Varma is an engineer and a novelist by choice. She has two titles, “Sunshine Mist and the Rainbow” and “On My Terms and Conditions.”

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    The Mighty Juggler - Rita S Varma

    Copyright © 2015 by Rita S Varma.

    ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-4828-5952-2

                    Softcover       978-1-4828-5951-5

                    eBook            978-1-4828-5961-4

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    www.partridgepublishing.com/india

    Acknowledgement

    To Time and Thoughts

    To All India Radio, FM Gold who was a constant companion all the way

    To friends near far visible and invisible

    Dedication

    To my brother Bobby

    The ill

    ustrated kingdom of Kingana Buldana was prominent in and around the regions it occupied. Its terrain was fertile and its soil rusty reddish. This soil had traversed along with the river gurgling with abandon and gushing like the youthful. In search of the lowest levels it splashed by buoyant and cheerful, so as to negotiate downstream hundreds of miles. Along, it gushed past in search of and to reach for the most depressed levels of the grounded stratum. Several of its main streams got lost to other expanses, when a rivulet determined to find its chosen path broke free from the foremost. Like the rolling stone they gathered no moss and followed their path verily. They criss-crossed each other along the plains gleefully, then bid their farewells after miles of togetherness.

    When the spring arrives, the glacier enlightened them one cold morning; the fastest would travel the most-est and the furthermost the earliest. Their starting destination was the same but their endings would differ drastically. Most of them would end up into the seas following ideal conditions. Some of them would be utilized and consumed by the humankind some of them shall be diverted to the drop fields or the flora and fauna some would be lead to storage ponds dams or lakes. Nothing can be said for sure for there were a million ways they could end up. They listened to it religiously and in complete devotion. They were in the solid state then. They were keen to morph to test and try the other two stages as well, namely the liquid and the vaporous. Eagerly they waited for the sun to melt their hearts, to leave their stationary life at the altitude in search for the plateaus and the plane, followed by the vaporous and the cloudy. Drift by upwards to freezing heights again and then drop off as tiny and pure rounded droplets when they felt the warmth. Going the full circle. Nourish and nurture along its cyclic path was to be its destiny and character.

    The stream that had negotiated the gradients the turns and the bends and reached these parts of the region came to be known as Sarsary. For it flowed by at a medium pace with solemnity. Most other interconnected and related tributaries would also settle down to get some name and a unique identity. They carried minerals clay and gravel that had turned fine while travelling the lengthy terrain. They were revered by the people residing nearby. So Sarsary had this way come to see the kingdom emerge from scratch.

    The pundits arrived first along with the soldiers. They examined the soil for granule its texture colour and fragrance. They picked up the loose dry soil by the tree in their palms, raise their arms high and let it pour out of their fist slowly. The grains had flown towards the landscape far and wide riding along the breeze to settle down many yards away. They had spoken that it was a good sign and an auspicious beginning. The soldiers had immediately constructed a raised base with a pole. The royal family insignia was raised high and it fluttered on being unfurled on the post. The pundits then conducted ceremonies which involved the earth the river the trees and the planets. So for the first time I was sprinkled with flower petals rice grains sandalwood paste and the ceremony made me swell in humbleness. An emotion I had not known till then.

    Slowly and with the passage of time the empire had become a bustling fully fledged region. The palace was tastefully constructed from bricks and the fort built with granite rocks on the hilltop. The mules and the masons were the busiest creatures during those days. The homes were soon inhabited and there was bonhomie all around. I woke up too from my slumbering posture and became a major part in contributing to the kingdom’s progress.

    The river banks called ghats came into existence along my length. Furthest on the outskirts were the ghats for cremation, next to it the banks for horse bathing and cleaning, prior to it the swamps for the buffalo’s was constructed which was charged by the waters from the river, before it the cow bathing ghat considered sacred. Before them came the ghats for men and close by was that for the women and lastly the ghat for the pundits and sadhus.

    The orchids and grooves were flourishing by the time the townsfolk strutted in. The fields were yielding various crops vegetables and flowers. Scarcity of water needs to be addressed the reigning king believed. The search for a waterfront was culminated at my doorstep. I was delighted by the change of my fortunes.

    I noticed that whereas the common folk came to me for their needs I went up to the palace for the princely and those at the top echelons. They dug the canal and diverted my waters to the royal premises. The gradient was downwards so it was without effort that I complied and paved my ways to a spectacular world. They even built a beautiful fountain for me the pressure that I gained on gushing was utilised for it. So I sprouted out in various directions and it felt like rain on summer evenings.

    I was most fond of Pundit Ramnarayan Shastri, he came with his son each morning. He bathed with great reverence and chanting of shlokas the sacred verses as he dutifully prayed in each direction. Before entering the waters he would sprinkle some of it on his head and after his bath he would offer my waters to the sun that was beginning to rise over the trees. He would cup my waters in his palms joined together, raise his arms high and offer it to the sun god. Initially I was very confused as some referred to it as sun god and some as sun the planet. With time I knew who considered it as what. Unknown to him whenever pundit ji walked up to me I would with sincere regard for him form a slight wave and go up to greet him by touching his feet. So in that sense one could say that we held each other in mutual respect and regard. This is the best of the best relation to have with any. Consider it ponder on it and realise it like I have.

    It was here that I learnt of clothes too. For when they flocked up to me to wash their feet or just playfully the lower portion of their garments would get wet. While the ones worn by those at the palace were known to dry almost immediately the cloth’s worn by the regular people would take longer. The weavers knitted different yarns and style of patterns for different strata of the society. I was learning the ways of the people fast. I marvelled at their wise ways. They would walk up stream to the forest chop the trees and pushed the logs into the river waters. No need to haul them on carts or lug them all the way back, for the logs floated and glided downstream. To be retrieved by them along the various ghats.

    The best and foremost pickings of the fruit’s and flowers went to the palace grounds. The same was true for the hunting and game birds. This was true of the housing schemes as well. So the basic need was stratified along many rungs I discovered. This was a bit surprising on initial disclosure but I think that parameters have to be set and followed for prosperity and progress. Otherwise it would resemble the jungle they informed when they conducted debates and discussions nearby.

    The best segment of my day was the children at play. It surpassed all other. They would come running towards me and flung themselves in glory. They splashed the waters about vivaciously they learnt to swim aided by my buoyancy. They competed with each other and gargled noisily. They filled their mouth with water and tested who could sputter it farthest. Before I forget let me tell you that there was a washer man’s ghat as well and the wide moat acting as a safety guard was biannually drained and dug clean so that my waters as well as the rain water that collected in it could be routinely flushed.

    I also learnt that apart from the rain and rivers man has dug wells, the deep circular and cylindrical walled device that sometimes has a pulley attached to it for ease of securing water from the well. This is sweet rain water which has filtered its way through the various layers of soil to hit a rock bed. Its levels are also known to change with depleting water levels in the summer and increased levels in the monsoon. Most often these are also places of public chatting. Some of the bold damsels spend a lot of their time chirping as they assemble by its raised peripherals. Well, well what can I say except that I wish you all well, well?

    As she fell off the ornately canopied balcony they called chajjas into the waters below it appeared to her as a singular act that had no witnesses. Unknown to her someone somewhere is always party to all actions doings deeds and exploits. Be it the tree or the birds be it the winds or the hills be it the temple flag or the minarets. When the prince tapped her shoulder she turned around with ease without showing any surprise. She was waiting for him expectantly. But to her discomfort the touch was not that she had felt earlier, it was unfamiliar it seemed of concern a bit perturbing, an uneasy nag beginning to construct a feeling of queasiness. Like the calmness of the still waters was shattered impulsively by a stranger by a tiniest of pebble but before someone nearby could look up and detect the slight ripples formed or could reckon the source the waters had settled to its former calm, wondering if he had seen the ripples or were it his imagination.

    She saw his face then and felt assured. She detected the ring of sovereign-in-waiting on his forefinger. Eagerly she took the two steps so that the distances between them were to diminish the space within. She was enthusiastic that since he had traversed the long distance for her she should be the one to take the last ones for them. With solemnity she wrapped her long arms around him. The rows of bangles she wore jingled in unison. The tranquil that his embrace proffered earlier or the feeling of bliss was missing. Something eerie was to befall sensed her mind. He appeared distant and aloof.

    In the past she had heeded to her intuitions they had guided her well, today she found herself cornered. Her slight change in demur was picked up by her mind foremost; it then sent the warning signals it received from her and the vicinity to her as soon as it was in receipt of them. Her heart was the first to read her mind and it acted accordingly by beating with irregularity her skin felt the creepiness next which then relayed the scariness she felt to the brain the feedback triggered the response of dart and also the goose bumps to appear. She was facing him she had but a couple of steps to go backwards. He was blocking her escape such that there was no get away. The wind was blowing out so that even if she tried to scream it would carry her voice over the waters. She had never felt disenchantment she could not understand her feelings they were of utmost disgust and she found the whole situation futile.

    She looked up to him why do you make me feel thus where has all the feeling of enamour and besot vanished. His face appeared stern and his gaze steely. The look in them sent a chill down her spine. Was her love doomed? She wished to flit to flee the small window balcony. But the moment she moved he jammed her escape by extending his arms wide. She was sure he had changed. Maybe he has found another love a new paramour in the far off. She wished to be left alone.

    The wails that erupted from the ladies wing were suggestive of penetrating the ambience with its shrillness. Yet the menage was not alerted. The flare up of the activities remained contained to the she - quarters. Pails of hot water, bales of cotton and hordes of stone-ground herbal paste were urgently supplied to the central room to be applied for relieving. The only room that was furnished and fitted with the manual roof fan that was not circular with blades but jute meshed rectangular strip. Its span was as broad as the breadth of the room and it dropped vertically four or five feet in length. This attachment was secured to the roof using hinges. It was covered by colourful appliqué motif’s depicting birds in pairs trees laden with fruits and flowers and dancing peacocks. The border had contrast cloth pleated along the bottom edge called jhalar. A thick cord was strung along the bottom edge of the width and plummeted down from both the ends. These ends served as manual machines. One end of the cord was pulled towards the left and the other was drawn after a lapse of some seconds towards the right. Till both the ends worked in perfect unison. The manual fan swung into to and fro motion. Its breeze was gentle and lulling. It’s a perfect case of reverse engineering wherein man works for the machine that duly works for man in return. Simply wonderful as long as it is controlled by the mind and not the mechanics or becomes too automated and robotic.

    Female medicine experts were summoned, the urgency in their footsteps was making those around anxious and worried sick. Agitated they spoke in hushed tones of such occurrences in the past, of times old, of the room being witness to many such affairs. Their eyes darted and followed the scurrying footsteps. The bellow that emanated periodically could not be contained from behind the billowing red patterned curtain.

    When all of a sudden all the keenly attentive ears were alerted to the tiniest of the tiny voice that is so constructed that it can pave its way and glide over the din and reach to the sky. The wails then emanated again to replace the stillness within the room with embraces and cuddles. Even as the senior ladies waiting took turns to cradle and clasp to their bosom the bundle. From the state of slumber to the stage of apprise. It was a moment of artistry and subtlety, a moment of virtuosity and a moment of finesse when the Creator bows down in grace to its distinguished creation, the newly born child.

    Now was the time for the hordes of ladies to lay back and rejoice. Sweets in hordes materialized at that very moment to be consumed by the hands of others. Followed by the discussion on the features of the child, her resemblance to her mother was profusely debated and argued on. Her hair colour was contested. All this in general was done for fun and in celebration of the childbirth. May you walk in beauty; May you be the wise one endowed with wisdom; May you learn the hidden lessons of every stone every gem; May you seek righteousness and purity. Blessings poured in from all directions from all those who assembled that day which brought joy in one direction and sorrow in the other.

    Chitralekha’s mother was a seamstress who stitched beautifully designed bedspreads. With the passage of time her husband grew apprehensive at her steady growth and her name and fame that reached first within the commune then the community and then the hamlet. He saw her get up at the crack of dawn, complete her chores and then sit down with her paraphernalia. Her kit consisted of scissors needles assorted in size and thickness. He rued her activities he was prone to insecure attacks. Though an established junior priest who was rising among the ranks with his debates and depiction of the Vedas. He gave in to these pangs easily. He befriended mongrels who appreciated him and showered him with false praise, he listened to those one never gave a care about. These people would lead him to his fall predicted his father the day he back-answered him and retorted aloud to mind his own business. These free loaders would finally lead him to the joint which served drinks. He would spoil her design make cuts in the cloth provided by her patrons. Undeterred she carried on learning to prudently cut her patterns around the disastrous material, turning the devastated and doomed into delightfully new styles. She also learned to rafoo the art of covering the blemish deftly till they appeared like a poem written by yarn, so spread the word of yarn.

    His father was the second senior most high-priest in the palace then. A very learned pundit, he was thorough in the Vedas the Upanishads and astrology. He knew of the fate that would befall his son since the time of his birth. Since the time he drew the chart for his son after serious calculation and computations. Confabulation, for a period of 17 years that would plunge him into deep pathos was to be his fate. He knew that his son would consider his wife an obstacle to his progress. Whereas the truth that the stars foretold him was that it was because of his wife he would raise along the echelon of the ministry. Then Rahu would cast its ill eye and the booming career would boomerang. It would take a personal mishap that would eventually bring him back to his senses that would remove all the kinks he reared therein. Misfortunes are known to ricochet one back to the chosen path, the path that propels one to magnificence with refinement. If only his son could understand the verses he was mouthing, if only he could hear the words he spoke with élan that had the power of bringing a stranger to a standstill. Like the singing of the lark that mesmerises the wanderer. He wondered in amusement at the lark played by his fate. He who was the greatest of astrologer of his time he who could predict and preach. He who bowed his head in humble obeisance to the

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