Sanctity of Life

By Om Parkash Jawa

Book Sanctity of Life is a small realm of three stories. Through medium of stories, writer strives to bring home deep truths of human pursuits. To lose or to regain the human paradise rests in hands of humanity who if strays due to its thoughts of arrogant supremacy of its ideological beliefs then it rains bloody nails upon itself or if it strays not from path Saviour keeps for ever illuminated, it will resonantly remain showering divine blessings not only upon itself but also upon infinite children of Mother-Earth. Humanity, therefore, understands the fact that it is it who is the main player of sports of its life of infinite vividity.
What a mythically mysterious is the life of man in whom his Great Saviour stirs up a feeling of his every deed virtuous or vicious and warns him against the wrath of Mother Earth Who can alarm him with astonishing shock of divine justice.
In the course of events of life realization dawns on man who repents with firm determination to do virtuous deeds of service and sacrifice and he ultimately regains his lost astral beauty of life.
Let we all resolve to live life of great human fraternity with the blessings of Mother-Earth Who is also the Great Redeemer of her all children.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diamond Books
• Release date: Jun 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9789355992963

Book preview

1

Legend of King Shaantu of Vidisha

DEEDS VIRTUOUS OR VICIOUS OF RULERS VISIT THEIR SUBJECTS AND AWARD THEM EITHER BLESSINGS DIVINE OR PUNISHMENTS INFERNAL.

Newton, great Saint Scientist of England, was of exceptional calm and sober nature. Perseverance was core of his temperament. By his inventions he uplifted humanity from debasing dogmas and superstitions. Thomas Edison of great America was a great saint scientist who heard voice of soul of Mother-Earth and blessed humanity with his hundred two inventions. Copernicus, great Polish Astronomer, alarmed humanity caught in webs of myths and rituals by his astonishing discovery that it is our earth which revolves around the sun. They are the ever-blooming flowers who will never wither and therefore, would remain scattering fragrance and aroma of knowledge abundant. They dispel darkness and illuminate what is dark in man. Papa says that they are forever alive reciting holy words of wisdom and knowledge invaluable. Her sweet voice like rippling waves of a calm pond thrilled the silence of her study room.

Her grand mother at this hour of morning was always offering prayers to the Saviour of humanity to be merciful to her so that she should dare not disturb peace of any child of Mother-Earth. On hearing melodious voice of her grand daughter, she was seen expressing her gratitude to Mother-Earth for having blessed her such a good child. Therefore, as soon as she had offered prayers in the morning, she reached Richa’s study room and kissing her on forehead said, Good morning dear me, good morning. You are a true child of Goddess Saraswati: She will grace you with abundant wealth of knowledge and wisdom.

It was a rare occasion when Richa found her grand-ma talking to her so fondly and looking with moistened eyes at face of Grand-ma she also wished, Good morning, Grand-ma. And leaving her chair she touched Grand-ma’s feet who rolled her fingers over her head, reciting blessings.

So melodious was your voice, Richa, it appeared as if you were reciting prayers so devotionally in praise of the Saviours of Humanity Krishna, Jesus, Buddha, Mahavira. Said the old lady.

Papa says Grand-ma, dwellings of our Saviour are in soul of saint scientists who lived for children of Mother-Earth and blessed them with knowledge illuminating. Playing with her pen said Richa.

O: My little bird: Hear me attentively, in all of them dwells soul of Mother-Earth who is as infinite in her virtues as could be seen from spectrum of her marvels and wonders which are so fascinating that humanity finds peace blissful for stilling pains and sufferings of its life. Richa, your brother is fast asleep; poor lark who soars more than the strength of his wings. Looking with loving glances at her grand son, said the old woman.

After some time she said, Little urchin wastes more in spoils of pranks than he learns from studies. I want him to learn from his sister. As is his son so was his Papa in his childhood. Both notorious in mischiefs and shirkers of studies. I am to be blamed because it was I who always raised umbrella of protection from rod of his Papa. My indulgence spoiled him and now I suffer from spoils of my indulgence. Therefore, what I sowed I am reaping. My Kiran, your mother, I wish if she bears not the brunt of indulgence in times to come. Yes, yes, you are also my good child and to see you reading and learning from lives of great human souls pleases me very much.

Papa also says, Grand-ma that these saint scientists are torch bearers who enlightened by soul of Mother-Earth reveal to humanity its marvellous mysteries so that we should learn how to be awake to truths of its life as well as ours. Said Richa in the glow of rays of rising sun coming through window of her study room.

No sooner did melodious voice of my daughter touch mine ears than I rushed to reach her room. On finding both the Grand-ma and her grand daughter, I abruptly wished them good morning and said, Mamma, it is not mine rather Richa’s beautiful true thoughts through which she makes us to hear the music which silently comes from the heart of Mother-Earth.

So much emotionally happy I was that I immediately rolling hands on her head mused blessings for her great strides in the fields of studies. I had firm trust in her ability that the goal on which she had set her mind, she achieved it.

Richa, dear me, wake up your brother who still lingers in between waking and sleeping. Poor little owl who loves night more than the day. Said I. My mother who was still standing beside us looked at me with striking glances and signalled Richa to let her brother sleep. Though I felt disturbed at the spoiling action of my mother yet I maintained silence to look lovingly respectful to her.

Richa, dear child, fill coffers of your mind with wealth of knowledge: Be prepared, at night I am going to tell you a story of ‘Legend of King Shaantu of Kingdom of Vidisha’. Smile dear me. She was very loving in her voice.

Yes, Grand-ma. You are very loving mom. Richa said.

Very good: You are very lovely child. So saying mother holding me by my left hand left.

Mother had her own rare quality of selecting and narrating story or legend of great visionaries who lived life of sacrifice and service for humanity. Before taking up narrative she would ensure in her mind that story or legend to be told by her should be cutely instructing as well as entertaining. Therefore, she was very cautious that every turn episode of story took, it must leave a good moral impression on delicate minds of children who happened to be her listeners. It was very surprising rather pinching to me on coming to know that she did never relish to see me a listener among members of her family even though she already knew that I her only child whom she once auspiciously baptized as Dhiraj had a strong inclination for stories being narrated by his mother and did not at all like to be dropped. Brooding over the entire situation I could not analyze reasons for her tactical ways of keeping me forlorn away from her sweet voice which would sweat narrating story or legend.

I was alone with Kiran my mother’s most hon’bly beloved daughter-in-law and desired to bare open my wounded heart to her. Thus feeling tormenting uneasiness, I dared ask Kiran, Kinnu, as Mom loves you more than she loves me, and out of her sympathetic loving heart she might have disclosed to you, Kinnu, please tell me, why does not she want me to be one among the listeners of her stories? Am I a dolt foolish son whose mental faculties are so blunt that her stories are beyond his comprehension?

Dhiraj, do you remember once she told… Before she could have completed sentence, I anxiously jumped with a question, What did my mom tell?

O Becalm Dhiraj, Becalm. She told that too at your face that all wealth of tales, stories and legends she got in inheritance from her mother-in-law, I mean to say your grand mother and therefore, she would like to bequeath it to me. So informing me said Kiran whose face looked glowed with happiness and mine had gone withering pale.

As soon as these words of Kiran cracked into mine ears I felt uprooted and saw myself as if I were a marooned sailor abandoned to a desolate island of home. I found Kinnu rejoicing such disclosures whereas I was left to face hostile affection and love of my mother and to me my own home had become a barren desert to moan my ill fortunes. So pleased she looked that she started taking urgent steps for completing domestic chores well in time so that all of them ie my children, Kiran and narrator of story were timely present at venue from where story was to be launched. Besides I wanted to skip the event because of hard truth that since day my mother’s Kinnu graced her with birth of grand son baptized as Monu Kinnu became her mother’s-in-law own precious piece of heart and I was thrown out as orphan in the wilderness of parental love. Such sudden alarming behaviour of my mother towards her own son compelled me to introspect where stood I in the calm and embellished realm of love of my mother.

This troubling behaviour of my mother forced me to look into reasons for such a change and so I began to imagine as if my mother might have undergone transfusion of blood of her Kinnu by burning in her veins that blood which she bequeathed me when I was cradling in her womb.

My mother was very parsimonious in wasteful showering of blessings out of emotionally charged feelings of indolent love on me and though I was a married man with two children yet she ignoring this fact did not like to relax her control over me. I being a hard core coward always remained struggling in vain how to extricate myself from her rigid disposition. Whenever I happened to be away from my mother, I would contemplate hatching of strategies, tactics or intrigues to be put into operation so that shackles of control with which she had tightly tethered me to the stem of her towering motherly oak should be broken. But whenever an opportunity favoured me to demonstrate challenge to her high profile commanding position it was my hollow courage which made me a sneaking coward.

One day I chanced to discuss matter with Kiran who lived more deep in heart of my mother than mine, how to liberate myself from commanding control of my mother. While discussing problem with her I quibbling out a thought said, Dear Kiran, if mother comes to know of my manipulation challenging her supremacy over me,…… Before I could have said further, she went into peals of smiling laughter and said.

Dhiraj, it will stun her with mortal fear because she may think it a filial ingratitude not at all expected of a son in whom she sees star of her dreams and hopes. And he proved a bragging child who deserves to be whipped by loving soft tongue of his mother.

Then Kiran, why never it enters her heart that I being her only child deserves her love and affection which she lavishly squanders upon an imported child? I submitted my grievance before my mother’s majesty Kinnu who on hearing the word ‘imported child’ went into frowning laughter.

Dhiraj, it is a matter of full controversial arguments. Even then I tell you it is very difficult to reach depth of loving heart of mother. Mother’s love cannot be measured from her appearance. On hearing these words of Kiran, I felt to be ashamed of such ill thoughts as I had been nurturing against my mother who always kept rippling beats of love and attachment pressed within her heart.

Night came, we all had taken our simple and moderate dinner. On the call of their grand mother, her two nestlings fluttering their delicate wings reached her room without loss of even a fraction of time. In order to demonstrate spirit of true impartiality she sat in between her grand son and grand daughter. We both Kiran my mother’s most lively piece of heart and I her niggard son also, reached room. My mother with most loving glances ogled her Kinnu to come in and sit near her whereas I was beckoned to remain standing at door. However, as I was beloved Papa of Richa so she came and holding me by right hand led me to sit beside her. As Richa wanted so did I.

We all were sitting well prepared for listening Legend of King Shaantu of Kingdom of Vidisha to be told by my mother who as had been her nature always put question to listeners before starting it. My children and their mother Mrs. Kinnu whose blood ruled blood of her mother-in-blood were in spirits profligate happy and rejoicings. But rot there among them I, Dhiraj, always haunted by fearful shadows of being reprimanded not by my mother rather by mother-in-blood of Kinnu in whose opinion I was a hard core worldly wise nincompoop.

Dear me, you will not raise any counter questions which may raise controversies because all these remain whirling points in your replies to questions which I happen to raise before beginning or in between narrating story. She was very affable in highlighting her principles.

We all conveyed our acceptance to uphold the norms she had just brought out.

Before I start narrating Legend of King Shaantu, tell me, what is the difference between two pole apart systems of ruling people of a kingdom or republic i.e Rule of the Kings and Emperors on the one hand and rule by elected guardians of democratic States on the other hand? As she put this question she began staring us with glaring looks but with hidden smiles.

I thought that such a question as she had raised could be seen in its present context, a very controversial riddle, which could be solved with answers hollow or stuffed with many theories. In hope that answer to her riddlic question might come from no other person than her sweetheart Kinnu, she was looking at her with enchanting glances of great hopes. But Kinnu with bowed head was avoiding to face eyes of her mother-in-blood who felt dismayed on not getting answer from her sweetheart Kinnu. In the entire baffling situation it was my daughter Richa who looked smiling with confidence of answer she had thought. Therefore, raising her right hand she said, Grand-ma, I have thought of an answer: May I tell you? You will not be angry if my answer proves to be wrong.

No: No: I love you more than I love your Papa, dear me. Said she and looked with sarcastic smile at me.

And if your answer to your Grand-ma’s question hits the bullseye, she will award you a prize. said I.

She gave a cold glance to what I said and asked Richa to come out with her answer.

Grand-ma, when Kings or Emperors of ancient Kingdoms or Empires sneezed their unfortunate subjects used to catch bad cold and now in democratic states it is subjects who when sneeze their elected rulers catch bad cold.

On hearing such a bright answer, except my mother, all we clapped applauding sharp mind of Richa.

O: Good God: (Aside) My Richa is mine of wisdom. Musing these words I rolled my hands on her head.

What was disturbing to me were the cold smiles she got from her grand mother who instead of kissing her was seen kissing her grand son Monu and her Kinnu. However, in order to know if her grand daughter understood what she had said, she asked, Dear me, my child, you mean to say that in ancient times Kings or Emperors ruled fortunes of their subjects and now it is subjects who rule fortunes of their elected rulers.

Yes: Yes: Yes: Grand-ma, you are right: This is what I mean to say. Said Richa in fondling voice. After a pause for a few minutes she said, One more idea beats in my mind, may I tell you, Papa?

Why not: Why not: Your Papa loves to hear your sweet voice, dear Richa. So said I.

In ancient times it was the divine rights of kings and emperors to rule their subjects and now it is the divine rights of subjects to rule their elected rulers.

On hearing these words of Richa, we all including my mother clapped with bursting appreciation which made Richa to cling to me and I mused aside, You are child of Mother-Earth who has graced you with wisdom most rare.

As was evident from simmering wrinkled face of my mother that she relished not manner of our showering so much praise on Richa for giving answers full of wisdom rather she expected if such answers had come either from her lovely piece of flesh her grand son or her charming Kinnu who was to me a lovely beguiling lark and if that thing had happened only then she would have cracked with boisterous peals of praise and applause.

We were with great hopes and expectations looking at the face of grand lady when she would begin narrating Legend of King Shaantu of Vidisha. She had felt pulse of our curious anxiety and cautioned us to be well prepared for listening story she had promised in the morning.

She by coughing cleared her throat and began her narrative, Prince Shaantu ascended to the throne of great prosperous and flourished kingdom of Vidisha. All around was a world of Mother-Earth exuberantly peaceful, loving, merciful and kindred humanity, birds, animals and all vegetations. In the past, the kingdom of Vidisha was ruled by Kings who heard voice of their subjects and also that of soul of Mother-Earth. Glorious people of Vidisha lived glorious life. Kings lived life of service and self sacrifice. Their subjects either be human beings, birds, animals or vast forests, fields, rivers were to them as if they all were their own children in whose prosperity and peace they saw their own. The kingdom of Vidisha prospered and flourished on the joint supportive strength of its roots. It had in the past exhibited its remarkable strength in the fields of education, science, mathematics, medicines, culture, trade and commerce. But since the time King Shaantu ascended to throne of Vidisha life started to drift to perilous unwieldy directions. Sun in the high firmament had started to rise and set casting eclipsing shadows of coming events threatening. Subjects began to feel as if they were being visited by the eclipsing shadows of sufferings and miseries. Common wealth which should have been utilized for welfare of subjects of Kingdom of Vidisha was lavishly being squandered by King Shaantu and retinue of his royal servants. Epidemics had begun to strike life of people who could be seen lying hurled down in ruins of life. However, King Shaantu was seen keeping himself busy in leading expedition of hunting of innocent and simple animals and birds who thrilled life of forests and valleys. Because of excessive esteem of his royal supremacy, he could be seen lost in boisterous celebrations and mad rejoicings of royal wastages of public wealth. He had become so haughty because of worldly glory of position as the mightiest sovereign ruler of Kingdom of Vidisha that he stalked majestically with eyes and ears closed to sufferings and pains the children of Mother-Earth were subjected to undergo. Drunk of royal arrogance he lived princely life rashly extravagant. Spoils of royal supremacy spoiled him immensely. And, are you attentive, dear my chicks? She softly tipped narrative with a question.

Yes, yes, Grand-ma. We are enjoying it, Grand-ma. What next? So said in his sweet shrilled voice Monu. On hearing his voice so became my mother jubilant that she took him in her arms and showered kisses hundred. Though I also felt very happy yet it was a fit of bitter happiness to me because such affection she had never shown to her grand-daughter. In course of narrative I had observed that she was looking with loving moistened eyes at her grand son Monu and her Kinnu in whose fragrance of beguiling honour and seeming love I found my mother rambling and rambling. But she would rarely look at we both Richa and myself but that too with slanting glances. Such less weighty behaviour of my mother towards we both was not only surprising but also pricking. However we both were becoming accustomed to tolerate all this with calm and poised heart and mind. Even then I was confident that this seeming biased treatment at her hands was not truth of love of a mother for her only child. I had the clear realization that sovereign eternity of loving heart of mother was as limitless as is that of Mother-Earth. As this thought flashed in my mind brushing aside all misleading feelings. I decided to speak out a related idea, Mimma, I think Ruler should manage affairs of his subjects with heart of mother and wisdom of father.

On hearing my words my mother by suppressing feverish feelings of love for me smiled and said, Mother is more rich in wisdom than father.

After a pause for short time she said, Let me be to my story.

As she said, she began narrating Legend of King Shaantu, One day in the glow of setting sun after a hot chase hunting spree King Shaantu was returning to his palace. Densely flourishing forest, hustle and bustle of fauna and flora, cool breeze blowing, birds could be seen rustling with their nestlings in nests, animals had retired to their dens or caves or glades, while riding his black horse all of a sudden King Shaantu stopped and came down from back of his black horse. Feeling to be glutted with happiness, he said, O: What a coveted safari to a royal hunter. Fate mocks the prey and smiles on the hunter. On seeing a white doe drinking water from a rippling pond, he was feeling boundlessly elated. Roused in him a strong desire which blinding his soul excited him to demonstrate skill of his craftily hunting down such soft and innocent animal as was white doe whom he had seen drinking water by slanting her legs from rippling pond. Doe was unconscious of danger which would play a spoil game of life. Before hunting white doe King Shaantu mused unto himself, ‘Pleased Gods of heaven have dropped her for me. It is the will of celestial powers with whose blessings I live life thriving exploits of bravery which enhance my royal supremacy. Therefore, you fated white doe cannot escape the sharp shot of my arrow.’ Hardly had he uttered these words when he removed arrow and kissing it on its sharp point, he fired it which on hitting at womb of white doe instantly rolled her to death. A heart rending shriek which only soul of Mother-Earth hears escaped from mouth of white-doe, who with her unborn lamb breathed her last writhing in torturous pains. As she was narrating this episode, she saw tears trickling down cheeks of her grand children and her Kinnu.

At once she with heart brimmed with love and pity cried out, O: Alas you are touched so deep at your heart that it sinks in your deluging tears. Weep not you my nestlings lest your Grand ma should break down in lamentations. Brave be you, legend of King Shaantu has many more hidden tragic wounds the opening of which will shake you at the roots of your human soul.

She with fondling hands had started wiping tears from face of her grand son Monu and her most precious piece of flesh Kinnu. We both, daughter and father with our smeared faces, looked with feelings dismaying that she while was so much sympathetic to her grand son and his mother, but observed us with passive concerns.

Administering a dose of warning to Richa and myself she cried, If you stop not raining tears, I will terminate story forthwith.

Such an unexpected warning from her not only shocked we both but also her holy pieces of life Monu and Kinnu. And, therefore, we immediately relapsed to silence and appeared well attentive to hear legend.

My mother, with gliding glances, was keenly observing me and Richa and on finding us with tears dried up she resumed the narrative, While white doe with her unborn lamb was writhing in pool of her warm blood, he was seen arrogantly rejoicing sin as his deed of great bravery meriting a man of royal blue blood. King Shaantu with heart of flints had ignored heart rending shriek of the dying white doe but it was heard by soul of Mother-Earth. He packed dead white doe with her unborn lamb bleeding of their holy blood and was on the point of loading them on back of his black horse, when lightning flashed and thundered the sky and so spoke soul of Mother-Earth, ‘Shaantu, you sinner be thou accursed.’ At once black pall eclipsing glow of the setting sun, descended and Shaantu was seen riding his galloping black horse still lost in ruins of his wild royal arrogance. Listen me attentively, dear me, King Shaantu had a royal big gallery in his palatial residence where were displayed stuffed skins of animals and birds whom he had killed in royal hunting expeditions and these exhibited his great feats of incredible daring bravery. Inspite of pieces of suggestion of Queen Gayatri, he remained hunting innocent and soft birds and animals whom Mother-Earth loves from core of her soul. She stopped narrating story for a few minutes to measure intensity of story influencing minds of her listeners. On seeing again smeared faces of her Kinnu and her grand son Monu, she began kissing and wiping tears from their faces. And she by keeping eyes turned from we both Richa and myself made us to feel that we were being ignored by the narrator. Therefore, on finding herself skipped over again and again by her grand mother, Richa very quickly wiped tears from her face and mustering courage and ignoring all the three said, Papa: Sins and crimes of Rulers visit their subjects to award them punishments infernal.

On hearing such oraculous utterance of my daughter Richa I was so much impressed that I showered volumes of blessings on her.

My mom sternly looking at me beckoned to stop gossiping so that she could resume narrating legend of King Shaantu. On hearing commanding words of mother, we both daughter and father pressed conversations to settle down as sediments of thoughts on beds of our minds.

On seeing us lingering in silence she resumed narrating, "Feeling excessive heat of royal esteem and supremacy, because of intrepid courage and bravery he displayed in hunting down an innocent and soft white doe while she was drinking water from the rippling pond, King Shaantu whipped his black horse as to reach with galloping speed his royally embellished palace where he would present to his royal servants the murdered white doe as his incredible achievement of hunting exploits. So arrogant was he that though he had heard voice of soul of Mother-Earth which had uttered curse as an oracle yet trampling it in his heart of flints, he was riding his galloping black horse. However, as he rode fast pumped with hollow glory so was he mocked at by chasing shadows of darkness which were eclipsing his bright soul as a human being. On reaching his ostensibly decorated royal palace hardly had King Shaantu alighted from his black horse when crackling lightning fell and thundered the arid clouds. Darkness