Adam has broken loose from the disguised slavery imposed on him by the pastors who have taken it upon themselves to be the lieutenants of the smaller gods on earth
SCARED and terrified, Adam leaped out of the balcony of his apartment on the second floor of Abode Towers. He did not hit the hard pavement beneath. He landed on a heap of butchered men, women and children lying on the footpath. The dead gave him a cushioned landing. He escaped injuries. Shocked, he looked round. Severed limbs and rolling heads in blood and ashes were scattered all over the place. With his clothes soaked red, he sprang to his feet.
Before he could come out of his bewilderment, he heard wild sounds of shouts, slogans, screams, firing, drum-beating and earth-shaking trampling from the adjacent streets. It was then that the sage saw him on the run for the incalculable time in the history of mankind. Adam was paying the price for the quest of his freedom, freedom from begging and asking, and petty desires.
He ran helter-skelter. Charred wood and smoke made him gasp for breath. He felt choked and suffocated. Roads were blocked with burning vehicles and tyres. The streets and nearby lanes looked deserted. He entered a dark, narrow alley to take the cover of darkness, the mother of all the blankets that protects the frightened children from the chill of death and destruction. He leaned against a wall and sank to his knees.
That was the most horrific period of communal riots in the subcontinent between the years 1947 and 1948. Adam was being pursued by a horde of fanatic Hindus. He was finally overtaken, caught and was subjected to interrogation.
“Are you a Muslim?”
“No. I am not a Muslim.”
“Then why are you running away from us, the Hindus?”
He looked at them, and said, “Because, I am not a Hindu.”
“Look at him. He is neither a Hindu nor a Muslim!” A violent man said, “He is a cheat. We must kill him.”
Adam took to his heels. He out-paced his pursuers and dodged them only to bump into a violent crowd of fiery Muslims a few blocks away. They hugged him, and said, “Don’t feel frightened. You are our brother in faith.”
Adam said, “I am not a Muslim.”
“Then why are fanatic Hindus after your blood?” they asked.
He looked at them, and said, “Because, I am not a Hindu.”
“He is neither a Hindu nor a Muslim.” One of the zealot youth turned towards his companions, and announced, “He is a mulhad (atheist). He deserves to be slaughtered.”
“I am not a mulhad.” Adam shouted at the top of his voice, and said, “All of us, whether Hindus or Muslims, belong to Him, to whom we are preordained to return someday.”
The zealot young men drew their swords. The helpless sage saw him on the run. All along in the phenomenon of continuity, Adam has broken loose from the disguised slavery imposed on him by the pastors who have taken it upon themselves to be the lieutenants of the smaller gods on earth. In each era he is caught, persecuted and beheaded for annoying numerous gods and their chosen divines. He takes birth again, and returns to pursue his quest for personal liberty from the juncture it was snipped off during his previous existence on the earth. It is an ongoing process that will come to an end only with the end of the cosmos. Men seeking the Higher Truth beyond a truth shall always be impeded and prevented in their eternal quest by the self-appointed virtuous. They shall die at the hands of their persecutors in the name of man-made laws, customs and traditions.
In one of the recent episodes of happenings in the life of Adam, the man on the run for almost 60 years of his ongoing existence on this earth, had dodged frenzied chasers and taken shelter under the Cantonment flyover. He was breathless, exhausted, and tired of running away. It was dark all round him. He hardly had regained his breath when a voice sent shudders through his veins. Someone called out his name, “Adam.” He rose to his feet. Nothing was visible to him.
“I have never seen you perpetually on the run in any of your previous arrivals on the earth.” The voice came closer to him, and asked, “Are you being chased?”
“Yes. They are after my blood.”
“Have you offended them?”
“No.”
“Then, why do they want to kill you?”
“I do not subscribe to any of their sects.”
“Did they ask you to disclose your identity?”
“Yes.”
“What did you tell them?”
“I told them, it is my life. I want to live it in the manner I like it.”
“How did they react to your answer?”
Adam sighed, and said, “The sects, otherwise diametrically opposed to each other, joined hands together against me, and decreed I must die, and that he who kills me would enjoy afterlife in heaven.”
Thereafter, silence prevailed for some time. Adam groped in the dark, and asked, “Sage, are you listening to me?”
