Guru by Anu Chopra SignUp
Boloji.com
Boloji
Home Kabir Poetry Blogs BoloKids Writers Contribute Search Contact Site Map Advertise RSS Login Register
Boloji
Channels

In Focus

Analysis
Cartoons
Education
Environment
Going Inner
Opinion
Photo Essays

Columns

A Bystander's Diary
Business
My Word
PlainSpeak
Random Thoughts

Our Heritage

Architecture
Astrology
Ayurveda
Buddhism
Cinema
Culture
Dances
Festivals
Hinduism
History
People
Places
Sikhism
Spirituality
Vastu
Vithika

Society & Lifestyle

Family Matters
Health
Parenting
Perspective
Recipes
Society
Teens
Women

Creative Writings

Book Reviews
Ghalib's Corner
Humor
Individuality
Literary Shelf
Love Letters
Memoirs
Musings
Quotes
Ramblings
Stories
Travelogues
Workshop

Computing

CC++
Computing Articles
Flash
Internet Security
Java
Linux
Networking
Workshop Share This Page
Guru
by Anu Chopra Bookmark and Share
 

"Don't you want to meet my guru," asked my sister.

My sister had gone through hell and come back. It was thanks to this Gurujee. She lost her husband in a car crash and with him was her only son. It was a nerve wrecking time for all of us. Suddenly she seemed more at peace more composed and she then she called up that she had moved to Varanasi. She had found a Guru and he had given her the solace she was looking for.

What a turn around I thought. My sister who was really a skeptical person had become such a believer. The sadhu was apparently quiet erudite and had brought lot of peace to my sister. She had found a house at the Ghats of Assi and lived there. I had gone to meet her there. More than anything I was impressed with the Ghats. They were so beautiful.

I finally saw the great gurujee. He was a sadhu with matted hair a saffron robe and a white unkempt beard. And he did not utter a word. He looked as old as the Ganges. This is the sadhu who has given so much peace to my sister I thought. Sitting in didi,s Spartan room I kept glancing at the sadhujee whom my didi called Panditjee so reverentially. Didi kept talking. It was as if a dam had burst loose. I had Never heard didi talking so much and the sadhu kept smiling and listening. Suddenly didi, said "Don't you know him"? I looked at the sadhu and said, "No, I do not think so."

I thought and thought and remembered yet I could not place him.

"Remember Deepak." Deepak I was horrified, the guy who never came second, a creep of the first order we hated him because he was so brilliant and so humorless. And this sadhu he looked as old as the hills. Deepak must be 40 years. Yes something about the eyes it was Deepak all right.

Deepak smiled and said "It was the works for me IIT IIM Ahemdabad. And then a job with a multinational. I married the most coveted beauty of Delhi. I partied, loved life, was doing very well. I was smart I was really versatile at the games people play. I knew was going to be chairman of my company. Once I was traveling by road and the car broke down. It was near a god-forsaken ashram. My driver and I went there. The sadhu who lived there looking after a run down Mandir looked at me and smiled. He said you know the caretaker of this Mandir never dies. I am old and I am waiting for you Deepak and I knew you would come."

Deepak said, "I was suddenly filled with so much peace. I had never felt like this before. It was like casting my old skin. I knew I was born for this. My guru gave up life and here I am looking after the Mandir, helping souls practicing yoga and praying to the almighty."

"What about your wife", I asked curiously.
"She is doing well she is remarried."

And while talking to me a cell-phone materialized in his hands and there was a cigarette in the other hand. "Hey where did you get that from", I asked. Just a couple of tricks for my self, he smiled "Old habits die hard I love SMSing messages and I cannot smoke dope in a chillum. I need the cigarette"


22-May-2002
More by :  Anu Chopra
 
Views: 868
Share This Page
Post a Comment
Bookmark and Share
Name*
Email ID*  (will not be published)
Comment
Verification Code*
E3J92
Please fill the above code for verification.

    

 
 
Top | Workshop



Solitude and other poems by Rajender Krishan
 


    A Bystander's Diary     Analysis     Architecture     Astrology     Ayurveda     Book Reviews
    Buddhism     Business     Cartoons     CC++     Cinema     Computing Articles
    Culture     Dances     Education     Environment     Family Matters     Festivals
    Flash     Ghalib's Corner     Going Inner     Health     Hinduism     History
    Humor     Individuality     Internet Security     Java     Linux     Literary Shelf
    Love Letters     Memoirs     Musings     My Word     Networking     Opinion
    Parenting     People     Perspective     Photo Essays     Places     PlainSpeak
    Quotes     Ramblings     Random Thoughts     Recipes     Sikhism     Society
    Spirituality     Stories     Teens     Travelogues     Vastu     Vithika
    Women     Workshop
RSS Feed RSS Feed Home | Privacy Policy | Disclaimer | Site Map
No part of this Internet site may be reproduced without prior written permission of the copyright holder.
Developed and Programmed by ekant solutions