Nachiketa 6.

Nachiketa 2.

No one knew the old man. He avoided being seen and lived in his cottage at the far end of the thick forest. No one knew who he was and whence he came. A few who had happened to stray into that part of the forest saw him, but none could talk to him. His silence seemed unfathomable. But those few who saw him were hardly the same when they came back to their village to their human abode.

Sometimes unknown and unseen, he would come out of his dark cottage on a bright afternoon and sit basking in the courtyard, looking into the distance, as if waiting for some lone way-farer to come, and lift the age-long spell and bring to life the shrunken silence to dance on his wild flute-notes.

Those who had seen him told others afterwards that one might see him suddenly face to face and catch him smiling. But that smile would not be like anything you had seen before. It was a benign smile that accepted you and set you free, and thereafter one could not belong to anything in this world and yet be a part of it.

For three days and three nights the old man had been away from the cottage. When he came back he saw a human form lying in a heap at the door of the cottage. On going nearer, he found it to be a boy of about seven years, probably of the brahmin lineage. It was obvious that the boy had barely made it to the gate of the cottage and then collapsed from hunger and exhaustion. The old man looked long and steadily into that tender countenance, now immobile, but still retaining its fluid transparency. He bent over the child with silent compassion and stroked the matted hair and the little forehead that had gathered layers of dust. Then lifting him gently, he carried him inside. The old man sat motionless until he saw a slight manifestation of life in that limp body and then watched with interest the gradual awakening of the senses until all the senses reaffirmed the existence of body and the world around them.

The boy opened his eyes and saw a pair of eyes watching him serenely in utter silence. No, this wasn’t his father.

“Are you the one I am looking for?”

“Who are you looking for my dear?” The old man asked gently without a trace of astonishment.

“Why, you must be Yama. I had set out in search of you!”

“Indeed? Do I look like Yama to you? I don’t know what I look like!”

Nachiketa silently wondered. True, he did not know either what Yama looked like! He stared at this serene face and could think no more. All that he could understand at that moment was that he wanted to be claimed and at that moment it did not matter who was to claim him! Slowly, a tiny hand lifted itself. So slight was its movement that it was scarcely visible to the eye. But an old, wrinkled hand, strong and steady, grasped it and Nachiketa lay trustful in the old man’s lap, assured and asleep.