Valmiki : Again

The traveler who had brought about this metamorphosis, had uttered a mystic name ’Rama’ in his ears. The sound of it magnetized him. It acted like a light on his path and gave him strength. How and why, he did not know.

One day, he met a man who stopped to talk to him and said, “You will write. You will write the saga of a king called Rama.”

Valmiki looked at him in astonishment.

“It’s not in me even to write a line that makes sense. I have no strength left to do anything,” said he to the man.

The man simply said, “You are going to write, pages after pages, thousands and thousands of verses. Ages will go by, but your work will continue to be read by millions of generations of humanity,” said the man.

Valmiki, who considered himself lost and defeated at the hands of life, stared in disbelief.

The quiet certainty in the man’s eyes filled him with a faith he had never known before.

“I will. I will write because I believe you,” said he.

The name Rama haunted Valmiki like the name of some long-lost beloved whose face begins to glimmer in the clouds. He would retreat in solitude to think of Rama whom he had never seen. The name generated a passionate desire to see him, know him, to feel his heart and mind. Soon he began to live with the thought of Rama. The name was transformed into a thought and the thought was transformed into energy of an unknown origin.

Valmiki came to believe in the reality of it all. He was born anew in that self-created reality. His mind became devoid of every desire other than the desire for meeting Rama. He was no longer of this world.

Gradually in his hours of solitude, he began to feel the presence of a man whose heart was a silent lake of a deep sadness, and surrounding that sadness was peace and compassion. Valmiki began to live in that peace and compassion, away from the turbid life of busy men. He began to wonder if life could be any better than this solitude which was filled with the presence of Rama.

………………

Years went by. Valmiki had no knowledge of what was happening in the world of politics and civilization. Two cultures were clashing with each other. Kings and sages were under threat of extinction from the powerful races of rakshasas, daityas and asuras. Sages were massacred, people subjugated. Kings were unable to protect sages.

One day, Valmiki met the same holy man who had prophesied that Valmiki was to write the saga of king Rama. Till that day, Valmiki had not written a single word to that effect.

The holy man gave him a smile of assurance. He said, “The saga is ready. It has been enacted. It is waiting to be told. Unless you immortalize it in poetry, it will be forgotten. But I can see; its destiny is ordained now. I am an ordinary bard who narrates the facts of the lives of kings and queens. Today I will recite to you the story of the king Rama. Mind you, I will present mere facts; but you are going to transform them into a perennial epic. Valmiki listened to the story in amazement. For hours together, the holy man spoke and Valmiki listened, internalizing the story of his beloved Rama, who had indeed been crowned the king of Ayodhya after a long ordeal of unimaginable suffering.

When the holy man had uttered the last word, there was a peaceful silence. The holy man reclined in his seat and said to Valmiki, “Hereafter your mission begins. Bring this story to life and let the world know it. Valmiki fell at the feet of the holy man. A wave of sublime beauty engulfed him all around.

The holy man raised him up. “Let this knowledge not escape your understanding. Enter into it with all your soul. Reality is far deeper than facts. Enter that reality which is lying beyond facts. Go to the secret which my recitation of facts points to but does not divulge.”

Valmiki listened intently. The holy man continued, “I started off my narration from a place and a point of time. You have to take this saga beyond the limits of an epoch. Let your mind range over every possible thought and feeling experienced by humanity. Let the friend see himself in the foe. Let the rival unite with the claimant. Let everyone see his own self in the other. Let your discourse be disengaged from all that marks the will to power: the will to possess: the will to engender blame, and hence guilt in your listener. Let it be a story of infinite patience and sharing”.

The holy man got up to take leave of Valmiki.

“You have entrusted me with an impossible task. I don’t think, it’s in me to bring it to fulfillment,” said Valmiki.

The holy man said, “You don’t have to strive. A time will come when you will find a peaceful marriage of the right word with the right thought. Do not have any preoccupation right now. A tree does not fall where and when we expect it to fall. But it’s ready to fall.”

Valmiki looked at the holy man with disbelief.

“I have not received any schooling in grammar. I’ve never been in the company of scholars. You have entrusted me with an impossible task. You have very high expectations of me: a less than an ordinary man who has been spending life in the wilderness of this forest!” said Valmiki.

“Who told you that language always follows scholars? The task I see ahead of you needs a heart that is all-embracing. You are self-taught. Your penance and solitary self-reflection will raise you above all those who claim to know the secret of language.”

The holy man thought it unnecessary to answer any further questions. He took leave of Valmiki and went the way he came.

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