27 Chetra 3000 PRAYAG

  Prayag, a beautiful city situated on the bank of the holy river Ganga, is revered by the whole country. Every 15 years, when the largest planet of this solar system, Brihas, completes one revolution and enters the first degree of the Aqua constellation, a mega fair named AQUAS is organized. It is believed that during this time the energy here is heightened and helps people increase their power, thus it is considered auspicious. People from all over the world come here to take a holy dip. This year is no different. The city is lively, and people can be seen everywhere. During the bathing sessions, it is said that not even a mustard seed dropped on the banks of the Ganga would reach the ground, due to the sheer number of people present.

  Prayag, being a district, was divided into two main zones – the Eastern Zone and the Western Zone – denoting the land on either side of the river. During AQUAS, a third zone, the Central Zone, was created by the administration; it serves as the main fair area, immediately adjacent to the banks of the Ganga. In this zone, only saints and monks were allowed to stay in tents provided by the administration. The administration also used drones to announce missing people, the daily bathing schedule for the riverside, and to manage the crowd.

  In the Western Zone, there are accommodations provided by the Ruler, alongside private residences offered by different cults and merchants as donations. The main road comes through this zone, passes through the Central Zone, and links both banks via a bridge.

  A green-colored bus levitated above the ground as it moved along the road. A boy sat in the window seat in the front row, possessing shiny, black, shoulder-length hair, dark black eyes, a thin straight nose, and lips of moderate thickness. He wore a white dhoti and had draped another over his shoulders like a shawl.

  ‘There truly are many people here. Father did say that more than three billion people would visit this city over the span of thirty days,’ he thought. ‘If the world is really this vast, then I must travel across it one day.’ He was immersed in the chaotic, vibrant world he witnessed.

  “Come and take any utensil you like, just for fifty PANAs!” a thin, dark-skinned man wearing a black dress called out to passersby.

  “Buy any piece of clothing for just a hundred PANAs!” another man, with brown skin and wearing a fancy beach shirt and Bermudas, advertised his wares.

  “Buy cars as cheap as twenty! Of course, they’re just toys for you or the children,” a toy shopkeeper joked, attempting to sell his goods, while nearby, a bookseller tried a different approach.

  “You are in a land full of knowledge and holiness. Buy these books to increase both!”

  Various small shopkeepers used their God-given voices like speakers, while wealthier ones advertised using drones, large screens, and loudspeakers to sell their products.

  “GOD IS IN YOUR BREATH,” a large screen displayed the text prominently. “Come find that breath,” read the line below it. Since it was a religious fair, cults were actively promoting their paths to God. Meditative programs, rituals, and principles were marketed through catchy advertisements. Some people wearing very distinct clothing were present at some of these cult stalls and shops, seemingly trying to buy native items and understand the local culture.

  ‘People wear so many kinds of dresses. And those people seem to be from some far-off land,’ he thought, observing dark-skinned people from Kusha Dweep wearing differently colored and textured drapes. He also saw fair-skinned people with light-colored hair and eyes from Yavan Dweep.

  The bus stopped at the campus of a large red building. A red swastika was painted on both parts of the yellow gate and also on the front wall, upon a section painted white specifically for the symbol. Male and female monks stood welcoming people entering the building.

  “Shambhu, what are you thinking? We’ve reached the Mutt,” a stern but caring voice called the boy. He saw he was the only one remaining on the bus. He got up and descended. A man with a brown complexion, slightly above average height and possessing a bulky frame, stood beside a fair-skinned woman of average stature with a beautiful face. With them was a boy who looked like Shambhu but had brown hair alongside his black eyes. Both parents had black hair and brown eyes.

  “Father, this is different from what you taught me,” Shambhu asked his father, Satya.

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  “Many things here are different from my teachings. Which one are you referring to, Son?” Satya asked.

  “The female monks. You told me male and female monks shouldn’t live together, to avoid attraction or any immoral conduct,” Shambhu asked, curiosity evident on his face.

  “Your curiosity about this apparent contradiction is understandable, but whatever I have taught you, Son, constitutes our familial knowledge and beliefs. The world neither follows us nor the knowledge and beliefs we hold. I have brought you here for a final lesson that will address this. But before that, it is necessary for you to receive your sacred thread. What you need to know for now is that Dharma is a moral compass and code of conduct provided by God.”

  “So what about those who don’t follow it?”

  “You reap what you sow. Karma always delivers results accordingly, whether good or bad. We can’t change the world, but what we can do is uphold our own Dharma,” Satya said after a pause, his expression serious.

  While they conversed, they had already moved inside the building, entering a hall large enough to accommodate five hundred people. Yellow pillars adorned with green and blue vine designs supported the structure. These painted vines seemed to grow from the red floor and disappear into the red ceiling. On the far side of the hall stood a reception counter. To the left of the counter, a heavyset man sat on a couch. He had a round face, a large nose, and big lips; he was completely clean-shaven.

  “Greetings, Satya and Savita. It’s great to see you after such a long time. Are these your sons?” He got up and welcomed Satya and his family with a big grin.

  “Greetings, Punda Mote. It’s good to see you too, friend.” Hearing the word ‘friend’, Shambhu glanced at Punda and then his father with slight surprise. “We came here for the head-shaving ceremony of my younger son. But it also seems like a good time to have my elder son’s sacred thread ceremony. What do you think?” Satya asked Punda Mote with a smile. While they talked, Ananta, Shambhu’s brother, observed Punda Mote and then the dent in the couch where he had been sitting. Punda Mote gestured for them to sit on the chairs opposite him. Satya and Savita took separate chairs, while Ananta sat on Shambhu’s lap.

  “Why not? It’s such an auspicious time for these ceremonies,” Punda Mote said in complete agreement. “I will have all the preparations ready by morning at 7 o’clock. Be ready then, because you know it gets very crowded during AQUAS.”

  He then instructed the receptionist to prepare a room for them. “You should rest now. It must have been a long journey,” Punda Mote said with his signature smile, handing the room keys to Satya.

  The next morning at 7 o’clock, Shambhu and Ananta gazed at the square fire pit, called Kundam, before them. It was filled with small wood branches, and mango tree firewood was arranged within it in a way designed to maintain airflow.

  “Shambhu, come here and sit on the west side of the pit,” Punda Mote called to Shambhu. Punda was sitting on the southern side of the Kundam, chanting Mantras.

  Shambhu did as instructed. Punda started chanting different mantras and lit the fire in the pit. After that, he gave Shambhu a plate of havan materials that had previously been in front of him. Shambhu followed Punda's instructions diligently.

  Finally, when it was time for the oath to receive the sacred thread, Punda Mote asked Shambhu:

  “Which class do you choose?”

  “Isn’t class supposed to be decided by birth?” Shambhu asked, curiosity and surprise evident on his face.

  “You can choose whichever class you wish and then follow its conduct,” Punda Mote explained. “If you ever think you should change your class in the future, come back and perform the ritual again to change it.”

  Shambhu looked towards his father with disbelief, but Satya’s face remained neutral—no surprise, no anger, no opposition, no agreement. He simply told Shambhu to follow the procedures to complete the ceremony. Shambhu complied again, chose to be a Protector, and tied the sacred thread onto his right wrist as directed.

  Next was Ananta’s turn. He had his head shaved, bathed, and then underwent the same rituals as Shambhu, except for receiving the sacred thread.

  After the ceremonies were completed, Satya went out to buy some fruits, as they were fasting. Shambhu, meanwhile, sat with a serious, thoughtful expression.

  Seeing her son lost in thought, Savita asked in a sweet voice, “You seem preoccupied, Son. Share your worries with me.”

  “Mother, did I do the right thing by choosing to be a Protector?” Shambhu asked with uncertainty.

  “Since when did you become such a worrywart? The decision has been made. Moreover, your Father was present. Do you think he would let you do something harmful or wrong in his presence?” Savita said, caressing his hair and cheeks.

  “Your mother is right, Son. Why do you think I allowed it?” Satya said with a knowing smile as he entered the room carrying fruits.

  “Eat your fill first, then we have that last lesson we talked about, remember?” Satya spoke again, placing the bag of fruits on the table. Ananta immediately reached for it to claim his share. “Brother, stop worrying and be like me. Let’s finish these fruits,” he said in his playful, childish voice.

  Sometime later, Satya and Shambhu sat face to face on the balcony of their room, while Savita and Ananta remained inside.

  “So, Son, what have I taught you about the classes and their roles in society?” Satya asked, like a teacher questioning his student.

  “There are four classes into which humans are divided according to their innate nature, qualities, and actions – SEEKERS, PROTECTORS, MERCHANTS, AND WORKERS. Seekers pursue knowledge and guide society with their wisdom and research. Protectors acquire power and protect society. Merchants manage trade and commerce. And, although everyone works, Dharma states that a human who doesn’t fit into the other categories is a Worker. They feed society, create the raw products merchants trade, and forge the weapons protectors wield. In essence, they are society itself.”

  “Second question: What does Dharma mean, and how are these classes related to it?” Satya asked.

  “Dharma is the duty bound by one's birth, originating from the very nature of one's being or role. It could relate to class, position, or any general relationship. Everyone should follow their own Dharma and thus serve it. A Seeker follows and serves Dharma by seeking and propagating it; a Protector serves Dharma by protecting it; a Merchant serves Dharma by ensuring money doesn't hinder others' service to Dharma; and a Worker serves Dharma by serving others, producing the things needed by society,” Shambhu answered with clarity and calmness.

  “So, Dharma is the duty bound by birth, originating from one’s nature. And class is divided based on one’s nature and qualities. Then isn’t the best way to serve Dharma by following the class you received by birth?” Satya questioned again.

  “How? What if someone possesses a different nature than that associated with their birth class?” Shambhu counter-questioned.

  “The classes were made by God himself and thus carry an inherent nature. One is born according to their residual Karma, thus their nature and role in this life are decided by birth. This makes it almost impossible to have a different nature than the class you are born into,” Satya explained.

  “But how do you know all of this, Father, and how can you be so sure when seemingly nobody else believes in it?” Shambhu asked, his question genuine.