Adhavan (5): The Sacredness of the Divine Incarnation

Chapter 4: The Sacredness of the Divine Incarnation

A divine incarnation is the personification of the divinity in the human form.

Translation

In the beginning there was only one, it took many, many forms

Despite caste, discords, it became the almighty being

After being with the origin, it again rose, took a birth

It became the enlightened being, will live a virtuous life!

—Siddhar Sivavakkiyar Song (108) 

One should watch Macham on the move; it is a perfect harmonious combination of agility and balance. Swiftness and style were additional features that he moderated in accordance with the need of the situation. He can spear through the wind or float like a feather, either way there was something very unique and admirable about his walk. He spellbound everything, everywhere his feet took him through. He walked steadily, with straight back and unswaying hips; exuding elegance, masculinity and authority that befits men who have mastered themselves. His hunting senses were remarkable. He spotted circling eagles; skipping butterflies; hopping squirrels; even the fall of dried leaves as he walked along. He was well aware of the slightest disturbances within the helm of his surroundings, any odd movements got his immediate notice, on the go, but he never stopped not even a moment. During the walk, he was completely silent and was absorbed in the music of the immediate dwellings. He had this special gift of connecting himself to the environment that allowed him to move around instinctively, with precise, sharp, well calculated strides of consistent pace, amidst hovering trees and thick undergrowth. That thing, sureness and containment, that naturally emanated out of him, in every move he made, captivated not only Adhavan but also the spread of the wilderness around him. He rarely used the staff, but for the clearing of the growth and to make path for Adhavan.

It became growingly difficult, for Adhavan to cope with him, though he had been used to such long walks due to his nature of work, he is no match to Macham in the terrain edges of the Laughing Hills. They continuously walked for three hours in a stretch to find a group of pools interconnected by a slithering river, lit brightly by the setting sun. They stopped, for less than a quarter of an hour, drenched their thirst, squatted a while and resumed their journey. The silence was comfortable, neither of them talked and it gave ample time for Adhavan to make fine observations of the landscape. Alarmingly, Macham picked additional pace in his walk, so that he can find a safe abode or create a one for both of them, for that night, sooner the better. He started pacing. He almost ran across the wilderness, this time he didn't set his feet firmly on the ground, rather he used his front part of the foot to propel forward and make faster strides. That almost created a gliding effect.

Sun has set, to pave way for the seemingly beautiful moon to take a stroll to the high skies and shower coldness with soft light. After the stop near the ponds, they walked incessantly for two hours and a quarter in a stretch. Adhavan felt lurking pain in each and every part of his leg. Especially his feet and calf muscles were sore. He terribly needed a rest. He lay down flat on the ground. In the mean time, Macham cleared the nearby growth and made way to a massive flat boulder, towered by trees and covered by the dark undergrowth. In whisk of a moment, he was on top of the boulder along with his staff and hunting knife. He removed his dhoti; dusted the boulder; wore it back; signalled Adhavan to join him. Relieved to find a resting place, Adhavan dragged himself to the boulder and allowed Macham to help him climb it. Adding to the tiredness borne out of all this endeavor, hunger and thirst rummaged his spirit. It was hard for him to distinguish, if he was fainting or he was being thrown into a deep sleep.

Aware of this, Macham went in searching for food and water. Being a native of the forest, in an hour’s time he returned, with a palm sized bowl, full of water in his left hand; burning torch in his right hand; bundle of twigs and two large sized tapioca roots along with a few herbs, tied down neatly around his shoulder by drying creepers. He lit the twigs, made a leaping camp fire, squeezed the herbs, smeared it on the roots and grilled it. Once the food was ready, he served the largest of the roots along with a few herbs to Adhavan. Dizzy with the sleep, he found a hot, smelly, dark greenish burnt root right before him. First, he searched for the water and sipped it slowly from the bowl. He felt it running cold down his throat, caressing his dried burning throat with the coolness of the moon. Then he took a bite of the burnt roots, it was not charred rather it tasted as though it was boiled with the herbs. He peeled the skin, it came off easily and beneath it, the root was pale greenish white. He took a handful of the herbs and munched it along with the roots. He knew the food wasn't made for his taste buds; rather it was purely prepared to satisfy his hunger. Macham was squatting near the remote corners of the boulder and was savoring his food for the day. As usual, his eyes were closed and he was completely immersed in chewing and relishing the burnt roots that tasted like boiled ones over the effect of the herbs. He never worried or cared about anyone around him while he was eating. He got totally absorbed in the action and that must be giving him a sense of psychic pleasure. His dark silhouette sharpened against the burning wood. Adhavan didn't have the heart to disturb him. Though they had not talked for almost six hours, it seems talking was completely unnecessary with Macham as he neither looked for any explanation nor did he give a one.

When they had their humble supper, the night was drawing a blanket made of stars for their warm sleep. Macham leapt down and disappeared into the darkness. Adhavan found himself alone. He stood up, straightened his body and looked up at the skies. The spectacular arrangements of constellations and stars are indeed a grandeur art by God—one of his masterpieces. Realizing the usage of the word God, Adhavan turned around, to make sure Macham was not sniffing his thoughts far from a distant hide about. The questions started pouring in from nowhere. Where does he fit in this grand design? What was he called for? Why was he born? Who is he? With so many unanswered questions, he was staring at the shining stars, slowly the thoughts drifted away, the stillness started growing inside him. He looked down at the distant river, a silver streak amidst the darkness, lit by the bluish shades of the moon. He started to see the circles of light in his forehead, the greenish circles enclosing the bluish ones that further enclosed the white ones. Slowly, unknowingly, he went into a trance. He heard a resonating masculine voice from a faraway place. It said,

“Trance not this night for thee will speak about the immaculate ones.”

Adhavan woke up from the trance and found Machcam in siddhasana, swaying back and forth right before him, staring deep into the wilderness. His eyes were wide open and brightly lit. He saw in him a tiger, ready to pound on an invisible prey and tear it into pieces. Unafraid, knowing that he would never harm anyone intentionally, he flocked very close to him. Macham started reciting,

“When mankind is deprived of justice and are outrageously pulled into the immoral doings. When betrayals and adultery become a day to day chore. When physical violence and emotional torture become the way of the life. When a human watch another human being killed, raped and abused for fun and frolic. When ethical values are strictly forbidden and considered to be outdated and impractical. When all these evil doings are professed under the hood of the political, religious, social, professional and survival ideologies. When a part of the human race is alienated from the path of the righteousness—the souls of the wretched victims will smear their faces with sand and dark ashes of their dead and cry face down to redeem themselves from all these evils, haunting them in every facet of their life; severing them from the goodness of the character; cunningly seducing them to partake in their evil ways; ravaging their moral behaviours to the core; squeezing out the sacredness in the being and leaving them drained of any possible morality.”

Macham paused for a moment and continued,

“Their outcries thunder out the likes of us; their tears flood our eyes; their anguish pierce our hearts; their agonies instill pain in our flesh; their emotional fear and red hot sweat make our bones tremble involuntarily—this is the ultimate beat of the incessant knocks on the doors of the divine abode in each one of us to steer up for the greater reformations insighted; healing of the victims molested by injustice; extermination of the pain inflicted on the righteous; exposing of the atrocities lashed on the meek and the humble; loving of the slaughtered and butchered spirits; wiping out the neverending cries of emotional pains; satiating the honest ahcings of the mutilated souls; fulfilling the genuine cravings of the crushed psyches and love deprived hearts.”

Adhavan gasped and uttered feverishly, “The incarnation of the immaculate ones.”

To which Macham nodded and said,

“An incarnation is the personification of the divinity in the human form. The purity of their purpose is unquestionable; strengthening morality and ethics of mankind; infusing sanctity and sacredness in all the willing, dear human hearts they encounter. And they are called as the avatars. Each one of them are born with specific purposes, imprinted on their souls, guarded well by their chosen ones. Few of the larger sectarians call them as ‘soldiers of god’ but here we don’t break our heads about these differentiations on who the avatars are, rather we carefully look into the purpose of their mission and seek ways we can help such, with intrinsic humbleness, to accomplish what has been set forth for them.”

Entranced by the conversation, Adhavan uttered,

“Few of them were born to lead people, wage terrifying wars and regain the lost kingdom.”

The words just popped out of him involuntarily. Neither did he notice it, nor did he realize it. The voice was very sweet and it had a feminine touch to it.

Macham immediately realized who was talking through Adhavan and who has come to see him in the middle of this night.

He prostrated right before Adhavan and said, “O Divine mother! You have honored us by coming all the way down here, bless thee in all our endeavors and infuse our fragile souls with your unbreakable will and determination...”

Only upon hearing this Adhavan came out of the trance, turned around and looked out for an old lady, but finding none, he turned sheepishly and looked at Macham quizzically, sincerely hoping that he will give a straight answer at the least for this incidence, rather Macham broke into his heavenly laughters. The whole forest was set ablaze with convulse of his unstoppable laughters, even the boulder they were resting on, trembled a bit. Infected by the divine laugh Adhavan started smiling sheepishly.

After they both quietened down, Macham still in siddhasana, raised both his palms together above his head, looked at Athri’s hill, closed his eyes, muttered a few words of a prayer that no one would even imagine of eavesdropping and it all slowly subsided into a very serious stance. Macham continued his recital,

“Profane is these mankind, their psyche is so terribly weak and they succumb to even the slightest of the enforced pressure by evil, they merely close their eyes to all sorts of inhumane behaviors, as though they are part and parcel of their daily lives. They compromise their morale, willingly and knowingly, for ever fleeting nature of the material benefits. The prayers of the victims are inconceivably alarming to the course they are heard in my slumbers and I wake up, finding myself physically and emotionally torn apart. These voices are from the north west, behind the great snow mountains. If I am able to hear and feel them, then imagine the curse borne by the greater selves than us, especially the near and dear ones of us, dwelling in the snow mountains.”

“Their race has lost even the slightest form of humanity in them. People stand up in an arena and applause, whenever a hero is slaughtered, their bravery and patriotism is politicized and being sold in the cruelest form history has ever witnessed. Women are merely sex objects, they were stripped in brothel houses, exhibited and sold openly for food, wine and pleasure, whereas publicly they were stoned for committing adultery. The power circles that reigned over them, allowed it maliciously, as their intentions were being fulfilled by these insane immoral acts. For them, it's easy to govern a pleasure driven unethical hypocritical society. These pleasures addicted mob can be used to crush rebels of their own race. Brothers kill brothers, for the sake of wealth, pleasure and power. They washed their hands off their captives ethics, as it benefits their own rulers power strategies.”

“A man of immeasurable inner strength, courage and valor will be born in a forsaken barn, amidst shepherds, will grow up to be a shepherd of his own men. His kingdom will not be of this world. Even a wise man from our land will pay a tribute to his birth. His unshakeable faith will be tested mercilessly by their own blood. He will be beaten to remorse, betrayed and forsaken by his own disciples and followers. He will be fastened and lashed out to witness against his own faith. Even people who pledged to him, will spit on his face. Still, he will hold truth close to his heart, never for a moment will betray his faith.”

Adhavan’s face was drowned with unbearable grief and he started speaking forcefully,

“Why on the earth, he won't take up a sword and fight? Every man born in this world has right to defend himself.”

Macham replied,

“Yes. He will fight. It will be a battle of the utmost courage and strength, the history would ever witness, by a single incarnation against a whole race, deprived of even the slightest form of ethics. He will muster every ounce of his blood, stand tall and refrain himself from any sort of non-violence, though he will be subjected to the crudest form of physical abuse and violence. His whole life, he will preach about love and only love. It is not love of the menial form. It is the love of the divine—unconditional, unbound and everlasting, that seldom people realize and hold close to their bosom. He will allow the whores to kiss him. He will allow the lepers to touch him. He will love the forbidden men and women in the streets. For all this, he will be despised by his own race. Jealous of him, people will tend to ruin his reputation. Still, he will stand tall among all, as he will never compromise on ethics and morality, not even during his last breath. He will live a life of what he taught and what he believed in, amidst all tests, agony, pain and betrayals. Never the moment he will forsake his teaching not even one of them. That is the war he will wage against all mankind who have fallen prey to ethical and moral blasphemy. He will be victorious at the end.”

Baffled at this level of insanity in the incarnations, Adhavan unable to digest it, shouted against it,

“This is totally unscrupulous. I just can't bear it. No man has rights to sacrifice himself for the good of many. It is an act of utmost disgrace against the divinity. I can’t bear to see a good man tethered by the evil, either I will kill them all or get killed by them, rather let a such divine being die at the mercy of those barbarous, uncivilized, gutless, inhuman malicious wicked beasts.”

Macham softly replied,

“No!”

“The stage is being set for him. If his vocation is that, he will abide by it. That is the universal law of incarnations. Not all incarnations will have such calls. There are other types of incarnations also, who were born to become great musicians, painters, writers, emperors, scientists, spiritual leaders, sailors, poets, ministers, ascetics, philosophers etc. One should not confuse with the greatness of the incarnation, rather it is the purity of the purpose that one should embrace. Whoever they might be, whatever their mission is, they should be supported in their purpose in whatever means one can. To add on to your worries, though his teachings will apply to the whole of human race, and his followers will also multiply in multitudes after his death, there will be seldom few, who will live the life he lived and that he will be actually proud of.”

“Not only his followers, followers of any teacher, religion, belief, tradition, and dogma should stand up and sincerely scrutinize themselves against the universal ethics and morality in standpoint to their teachings and their adherence to the teachings. There is no better jury than oneself, provided the sincerity sprouts from within and they stand totally naked before the truth and start the self scrutiny thereafter. All holy scriptures will finally profess one grand truth. One needs to ask such questions, How close am I to it? Do I really take measures to get to the truth? Am I covering my head in scriptures and just keep professing the truth as I understand from the scriptures, rather than allowing myself to be conceived by the grand truth and profess what I have wholeheartedly felt? Do I actually know the truth? Have I seen it for myself? If not, what a hypocrite I would be to profess what I have not experienced yet, leave alone practicing it?”

“In here also, we have incarnations. They will live and die for our people. They will uphold our culture and tradition against odds and difficulties that even our imaginations cannot vividly describe of. We have our own history to create and our own divine vocations to attend to. Lord Krishna, whom your  sister is devoted to, is one such divine incarnation.”

Macham realized that it was too much for Adhavan at this juncture. He looked deeply at Adhavan for a few moments. Adhavan drifted into a deep trance. Macham sat in padmasana and let himself slowly get into a Samadhi.

The sun rose majestically, stretched its first rays of light across the world, warmly embraced the mother earth and its siblings. Adhavan was still in a deep slumber. A black raven croaking and scrambling over the previous night’s leftovers stuttered on Adhavan’s Bamboo staff and balanced itself at the tipping point. Adhavan woke up and looked straight into the dark eyes of the raven. It flew in the direction of the Laughing hills. He looked around, Macham was not there. A sudden grief grasped his heart firmly, he was in the middle of the dense forest all alone, without any aid. The truth was bitter. He felt a sharp pain. Then it slowly subsided as he realized that ravens can only be seen near human dwellings.

He looked at the laughing hills. It was covered with lush of green and dense thickness on all its sides. It stood firmly on the ground, sturdy, proud and erect. Something in him told, that this mountain has treasured secrets, buried deep within its greens. Keeping his thoughts away, he looked out for the passes to the laughing hills, but he found a lonely figure walking towards him, steadily. It was Macham. He felt a throb of joy in his heart. At the same moment, Macham looked at him magically, raised his arm and signalled him to come to him.

Adhavan raced towards Macham, he leaped and jumped across the boulders and terrains and found himself right before Macham in less than quarter of an hour. He gasped for breath and laughed heartily like a child, without any reasons. He felt at home with this place. It was a river bed, completely hidden by the lush of green envelope. A swarm of butterflies swirled around them, kept painting ever changing patterns of colors in the empty space, though they were washed off the very moment they were drawn, by the soft gush of the trickling breeze. It was a breathtaking sight, Adhavan stood still, allured by it. Macham said, “We have a half a day’s walk. If we start now we can reach our place by mid-noon.”

They resumed their journey and they walked together steadily. The diversity of the flora and fauna was a treat to Adhavan’s eyes. He took in everything he saw. He had never seen such a heavenly place in his life; rich in vegetation; fed by numerous streams; seasoned by the warmth of the sun and coolness of the moon; showered by the outrageous downpours; inhabited by life of all forms and types. Adhavan lost his heart to the swaying of the reefs in the pleasant breeze; trickling of the lively water, adulterated by nature, with honey and rare rejuvenating herbs; the hallucinating fragrance of the wild flowers that got mixed perfectly with the ripeness of the wild fruits; of all, the overwhelming feel of the freshness and the abundance in the lives of the wilderness as such.

On the way, Adhavan had a go, at ripe sugar apples, gooseberries, guavas and manila tamarinds. Macham let him wander around freely and stopped whenever he found something new to learn about. He plucked three wild lotuses, one white, one red and one blue for Sarutha. Macham was exceedingly patient with Adhavan. Infact, he went all the way along with Adhavan, in search of wild fruits and flowers. He answered all his questions about the vegetation, patiently. Then they finally landed upon one extra large Jack fruit. It was almost the size of Adhavan’s torso. Adhavan took one of his dhotis, coiled it around and placed it at the crown of his head. Macham then lifted the heavy Jack and balanced it on top of Adhavan’s head, it comfortably rested on his head, separated only by the thick layers of neatly coiled Dhoti. Thenafter, Adhavan was not distracted anymore, he kept walking steadily along the river bed with lotuses in one hand and the jack fruit, balanced with the other hand. Macham carried Adhavan’s Bamboo staff for him.

Around mid-noon, Adhavan saw a faint bluish smoke, emanating from a wide, large hut. Adhavan saw a moderately built woman, giving instructions to a handful of tall, dark, muscular men. She must have realized that he was looking at her. She turned around and smilingly waved her hands. She had on her, a dhoti that covered her lower half to the calves. Just like old women in his village, she didn't cover her torso, but she looked very young for her age it seemed she never aged a day. Her waist was flat and much smaller than her wavy hips. She gracefully, slowly, walked towards them; with her hair, cascading in rhythm to her walk; bouncing to her knees. A group of men followed her, amiably. Adhavan can't help staring at her. She had such a beautiful, fair, lovely face; a perfect oval and phenomenally large, wide eyes. Macham said, “This is Sarutha.” She was near him. Adhavan started trembling before her. He collapsed on his knees, gave her the flowers and said, “You look like a goddess”. On the contrary, Macham was pitch dark, thin and straight like his staff. Though he was an inch taller than her, made full of raw sinews and had lustrous skin, he was still a no match for such a divine beauty like Sarutha. Both, Macham and Sarutha laughed heartily. They must have read Adhavan’s thoughts.

From the sides of the hut, three pairs of young female eyes ravaged Adhavan, a new male in their land. Adhavan noticed it and was magically pulled towards them. Macham said, “They are our three daughters and you will also be seeing some of my sons in the evening.” Sarutha took the flowers with her, one of the men carried the Jackfruit and the party walked towards the large hut, talking among themselves in low whispers.

(To be continued...)

Written on Dates: 02/21/2015; 02/22/2015; 02/23/2015; 02/24/2015.

About Adhavan
Chapter 1 The Realization of the Vocation
Chapter 2 The First Glimpse of the Third
Chapter 3 The Complete Surrender