Religion & Humanity

I express my profound appreciation to my parents for bringing me into this lovely arcane maze of India, denizened by the the citizens with bubbling dynamism and dazling beauty.

I reserve my thanks to my friends for inviting me into the private world of India’s vetaran mavens - Subash Chandra Bose, Ghandhiji, Nehru, Patel.

My special thanks to my brother for lighting the burning nationalist spirit raging inside me

A sincere apology for taking the licenses while writing this story - which I felt it necessary to take.

ALL THE EXPERTISE GOES TO THOSE CITED ABOVE. ANY ERROR IS MINE.

Sincerely,
Bernard G. Ruban

Prakash, Abdul and Martin were good old friends. It was in Tirupattur Don Bosco, that they had the schooling in their formative years. The higher education and profession ripped them off to far distanced places. Prakash, an Engineering student in Coimbatore, Abdul, a software consultant in a reputed concern in Banglore and Martin, a defence personnel to Kashmir were parted by distance but butted together in love and friendship. A letter a fortnight, friendship greetings, birthday wishes - all went on well for years through.

A friction between Martin and Prakash erupted when Martin loved Latha, Prakash’s cousin sister. Prakash had at no time given an impression that he was not happy, but his eyes would reflect a moroseness raging within. May be, it was only the reflection of writhings inside.

Latha, Prakash and Martin were sitting in a sea shore resort, watching the murky sea, visible through the panel. The surf rolled on the beach and receded. A black streak in the horizon separated sea from their sky. The dull, monotonous sound of the rolling waves intruded on the stillness inside.

Martin,
“man lives two lives at the same time - internal and external. Tell me something about you internal life” queried Prakash.

Casually and unobstructively, Martin looked at Prakash and asked “this is not an order, nor was it a request. As if the sky was asking the sea, Tell me what is raging inside you? There is air between the sea and the sky that fills the void. It listens to everything in the universe, yet defiled”
If it is my love towards Latha that is building walls instead of bridges between us, I would better say good bye to my love. But please do not alienate me from her just because I’m of a different religion and creed, pleaded Martin. His feeling has been rather intense and its reaction was on a higher pitch.

An acute, almost painful consciousness of loneliness descended on Prakash suddenly. He was sorrounded by few, but alienated from them, like an island - detached, dismal and empty. He was caught by frustration. The emanation of this feeling impregnated with vexation generated restlessness. The reasoning was reincarnated inside his bubbling soul and the passion found its way out.

If our relations take on any socially accepted shape then it will not be on the basis of social sins, but on the feelings of sanctity - the feelings out of which is born a desire to be a co-traveller upto the end of one’s life. After that he developed an attitude of aloofness.

The date was fixed for the matrimony - the rib-matching ceremony. Martin finally entered into the institution where a boy loses his bachelor’s degree and a girl gains her master’s. Their life was happy and gay like lily in May.

Years passed and the frequent requests and pleadings finally bore fruits. Prakash, Martin and Abdul were posted in the Coimbatore branches. Alas! Their unquenchable thirst got satiated. The three, in the same nest.

A series of bomb in Coimbatore and their aftermath ended their harmony. Abdul’s consultant firm, along with Abdul and the other occupants was set ablaze. And one of those seen, holding the torch was Prakash, an Engineer who succumbed his yielding soul to the dragging fanatics. His eyes were drugged with the aftermath of passion held upright by the strings of mob psychology.

Prakash saw an effigy in flames, approaching him. It was burning high in itself, penetrating the repulsed stream of air, collapsing at his feet, with wide-stretched arms. It was all over, when he realized that the departed soul was not of a stranger’s.

His heart ached seeing his charred friend, Abdul. His eyes vented, for it could not hold in itself the rolling flood of tears. The string gave way and the fanatism in him evaporated out till the last lees, leaving him, serene! There at a distance, he heard, “when passion is at throne, reason is out of doors”

The hallucination broke and he found himself on the verge of a deep, dark abyss, lost in the cold, dark stillness of oblivion. A shiver ran through his spine. Oh! The life - that long, wrapped in the folds of dark, infinite expanse of loneliness.

He found himself entrained, convicted and sentenced for 6 years. A moment’s mistake took away his life, his friend and everything in him, worth possessing. A loss, which could never be compensated, and its price can never find a place in the economic shastra written for the society.

He is still alive…., only to the eyes of the society!

So dear friends,
Remember, India is a democratic state, having secularism as its root. Lay your base on your religion and extend your love to all religion in toto. If your mother is good, say her good. Do not say that other women are prostitutes. The oneness, the touch, the solidarity must be made to universal totality.

If in a evil moment, man’s cruel history should spread its black wings to invade that realm of divine dreams with its cannibalistic greed and fracticidal ferocity, then God’s curse will certainly descend upon us for that hideous desecration and the last curtain will be rung down upon the world of man for whom God feels ashamed.

If your religion stands between you and your neighbor to be in good terms, Better say good bye to your religion. At any cost do not make the words of Karl Marx, “Religion is an opium of mankind”, come true.

We were like parrot in cage flapping our shrunken wings and piteously asking for a slight loosening of the chain on its feet. Today we think nothing of the cage not the chain for we preen for a flight in the sky of unfettered swaraj ( freedom).

A doctor’s mistake is buried!
A lawyer’s mistake is imprisoned!
and your mistake is …. ?

Think not with your heart, but with your head.
Better bend, than break.
Jai Hind.


Religion & Humanity I express my profound appreciation to my parents for bringing me into this lovely arcane maze of India, denizened by the the citizens with bubbling dynamism and dazling beauty. I reserve my thanks to my friends for inviting me into the private world of India’s vetaran mavens - Subash Chandra Bose, Ghandhiji, Nehru, Patel. My special thanks to my brother for lighting the burning nationalist spirit raging inside me A sincere apology for taking the licenses while writing this story - which I felt it necessary to take. ALL THE EXPERTISE GOES TO THOSE CITED ABOVE. ANY ERROR IS MINE. Sincerely, Bernard G. Ruban Prakash, Abdul and Martin were good old friends. It was in Tirupattur Don Bosco, that they had the schooling in their formative years. The higher education and profession ripped them off to far distanced places. Prakash, an Engineering student in Coimbatore, Abdul, a software consultant in a reputed concern in Banglore and Martin, a defence personnel to Kashmir were parted by distance but butted together in love and friendship. A letter a fortnight, friendship greetings, birthday wishes - all went on well for years through. A friction between Martin and Prakash erupted when Martin loved Latha, Prakash’s cousin sister. Prakash had at no time given an impression that he was not happy, but his eyes would reflect a moroseness raging within. May be, it was only the reflection of writhings inside. Latha, Prakash and Martin were sitting in a sea shore resort, watching the murky sea, visible through the panel. The surf rolled on the beach and receded. A black streak in the horizon separated sea from their sky. The dull, monotonous sound of the rolling waves intruded on the stillness inside. Martin, “man lives two lives at the same time - internal and external. Tell me something about you internal life” queried Prakash. Casually and unobstructively, Martin looked at Prakash and asked “this is not an order, nor was it a request. As if the sky was asking the sea, Tell me what is raging inside you? There is air between the sea and the sky that fills the void. It listens to everything in the universe, yet defiled” If it is my love towards Latha that is building walls instead of bridges between us, I would better say good bye to my love. But please do not alienate me from her just because I’m of a different religion and creed, pleaded Martin. His feeling has been rather intense and its reaction was on a higher pitch. An acute, almost painful consciousness of loneliness descended on Prakash suddenly. He was sorrounded by few, but alienated from them, like an island - detached, dismal and empty. He was caught by frustration. The emanation of this feeling impregnated with vexation generated restlessness. The reasoning was reincarnated inside his bubbling soul and the passion found its way out. If our relations take on any socially accepted shape then it will not be on the basis of social sins, but on the feelings of sanctity - the feelings out of which is born a desire to be a co-traveller upto the end of one’s life. After that he developed an attitude of aloofness. The date was fixed for the matrimony - the rib-matching ceremony. Martin finally entered into the institution where a boy loses his bachelor’s degree and a girl gains her master’s. Their life was happy and gay like lily in May. Years passed and the frequent requests and pleadings finally bore fruits. Prakash, Martin and Abdul were posted in the Coimbatore branches. Alas! Their unquenchable thirst got satiated. The three, in the same nest. A series of bomb in Coimbatore and their aftermath ended their harmony. Abdul’s consultant firm, along with Abdul and the other occupants was set ablaze. And one of those seen, holding the torch was Prakash, an Engineer who succumbed his yielding soul to the dragging fanatics. His eyes were drugged with the aftermath of passion held upright by the strings of mob psychology. Prakash saw an effigy in flames, approaching him. It was burning high in itself, penetrating the repulsed stream of air, collapsing at his feet, with wide-stretched arms. It was all over, when he realized that the departed soul was not of a stranger’s. His heart ached seeing his charred friend, Abdul. His eyes vented, for it could not hold in itself the rolling flood of tears. The string gave way and the fanatism in him evaporated out till the last lees, leaving him, serene! There at a distance, he heard, “when passion is at throne, reason is out of doors” The hallucination broke and he found himself on the verge of a deep, dark abyss, lost in the cold, dark stillness of oblivion. A shiver ran through his spine. Oh! The life - that long, wrapped in the folds of dark, infinite expanse of loneliness. He found himself entrained, convicted and sentenced for 6 years. A moment’s mistake took away his life, his friend and everything in him, worth possessing. A loss, which could never be compensated, and its price can never find a place in the economic shastra written for the society. He is still alive…., only to the eyes of the society! So dear friends, Remember, India is a democratic state, having secularism as its root. Lay your base on your religion and extend your love to all religion in toto. If your mother is good, say her good. Do not say that other women are prostitutes. The oneness, the touch, the solidarity must be made to universal totality. If in a evil moment, man’s cruel history should spread its black wings to invade that realm of divine dreams with its cannibalistic greed and fracticidal ferocity, then God’s curse will certainly descend upon us for that hideous desecration and the last curtain will be rung down upon the world of man for whom God feels ashamed. If your religion stands between you and your neighbor to be in good terms, Better say good bye to your religion. At any cost do not make the words of Karl Marx, “Religion is an opium of mankind”, come true. We were like parrot in cage flapping our shrunken wings and piteously asking for a slight loosening of the chain on its feet. Today we think nothing of the cage not the chain for we preen for a flight in the sky of unfettered swaraj ( freedom). A doctor’s mistake is buried! A lawyer’s mistake is imprisoned! and your mistake is …. ? Think not with your heart, but with your head. Better bend, than break. Jai Hind.