The Descendants of Jivdani

 

Jivdani was always there.

As the train was crossing Virar he noticed a mountain from the window. There was something peculiar about this mountain. The leaves of the small trees and the bushes on it emanated a silver light which was matching the brilliance of the moonlight. He was fighting emotional battles, analysing complex situations of life but beyond everything he was searching her, she from whom he had come, she who was his soul's real companion, so close yet so far due to the illusions of the universe, she the mother, who breathed in him so that he could work harder to spread light into the world of darkness.

The mountain certainly was magical. The train kept moving but his soul had settled there through his vision. A cool breeze blew and the tears of his eyes transformed into a small river. Seeped down onto the ground and began flowing. The river had fragrance of jasmine, kewda and rose petals. The small waves even formed the shapes of small petals glowing in the vibrant water. Yes he was in the train moving away from the mountain but his soul, it was traveling somewhere else. As the river travelled slowly it began reflecting the mountain's magical light. It dreamt of a pure state, away from attachments and a thirst to unify with her. The thirst of a river to be pure, to know it's true nature , to unify with truth. Gradually the river became River Vaitarna.

The water was accumulating from a million years and it finally got the life to flow, this was only possible since it was constantly contemplating to reach her, it was constantly raising the self awareness to distinguish between right  and wrong, it was able to recognise and accept her light and thus it gained life to flow. The mountain watched in silence and smiled. It had waited long too. The sun begins to rise now, the moonlight fades and the silver of the mountain soon starts imbibing  golden shimmers from the faint sunlight piercing the clouds. Very steadily, a red hot metal emerges from the river surface. It is a trident- a trishul. A hand appears holding its handle, fair white as if bathed in milk, then her hair - jet black, darker than undiscovered caves, forehead emitting light just like the sun, then her eyes, those eyes can't be described as the energy within them is of such intensity that it becomes impossible to look into them. Her face, an epitome of motherhood. Her body wrapped in red cloth, her feet , her feet is where he sees his emotions rest. The mountain was huge but it seemed that it was bowing down, bowing down before her.

From the river she slowly makes way to the land, towards the mountains. He sitting in the train begins chanting- "om aim hrim Klim chamundaye vichae"( The powers of Durga manifests through the devotees attempts to realise the truth through righteousness and strength of character). With every chant she takes a step. He chants the holy mantra continuosly and she keeps climbing the mountains like a fairy ascending into the sky. Finally his tears are over, his throat no more chokes. He finds bliss. She has reached the mountain peak. Look at her. She was always there people say, she is born every second when one realises her. Jivdani.

Her Descendants will keep writing stories of courage, devotion and selfless actions, they will keep getting born piercing the dark.

"I" was still in the train, but my soul had reached the destination.