The Story of Dust in the Sand

It was not long ago when I met a man of many charms in the oldest city of the world , Varanasi and had a life enhancing experience with him. The old man in his saffron clothing - half covered by his beard and the long-knotted hair looked a person out from this world. While I was waiting for nothing but watching the long never-ending sky, he came and sat next to me. I had vibrations, probably that of a small earthquake which shook the foundations of its very existence but did not harm anyone in the process. It was more like a wakeup call to the human race.

While I undressed my senses in between the clouds, my buddy in saffron had no intentions to leave me. He looked at me and giggled. I returned back the gesture. He lifted his arms and showed off his tattoos which were crude and faded. It had lightened so much, the symbols embodied in his arms were not clear enough to read. But a snake, a trident and a temple stood out from the rest. He lifted his eyebrows and gestured to show him mine. I had two tattoos then, one in the loving memory of my mother, fondly called 'Amma' and the other called 'The Tree of Life' - a tattoo which reflects one’s identity so far. The old monk looked intensely and gave a thumbs up to both.

Back to the unwinding sky n' I ask him, can we talk? My buddy laughs at the 'Frequently asked questions' running through my mind. Yet he says, "I'll talk less but you can talk more." So, I take out my recording unit amidst the pulsating atmosphere of this beautiful city and open my mouth to ask " What's your name?" But it didn't happen as planned. The man with the many beads on his neck caught hold of my recording unit n' said," you can do better, we don't want this. Neither will you record me nor will you take videos of me." Unwillingly, I agreed to his irritating conditions.

Before I began, again the monk raised his heavily beaded hand and pointed it to himself. He told me, "I am Shiva" and asked "who are you?"

?I paused in delight hearing the word Shiva. Though I may not be aware of all the 330 million Gods in Hinduism, Shiva is a name closer to me. While reading about him, I found peculiar characteristics which attracted my attention towards the mystical world. Let me name a few before I move on with this new Shiva avatar.

What I like about SHIVA?

The Benevolent one

An ideal partner

A god who is easily pleased

Does not have anything precious on his body A fabulous dancer

Intolerant to injustice Impartial

Balance in everything

Now how cool can that be? That's why Shiva occupies a special corner in the complexities of my otherwise wandering heart. But who is this dude?

The saffron soother grabbed my attention. He spoke again, this time with a more powerful voice, "I am Shiva. Who are you?"

I went blank for the time being, then woke up to please my instincts of always answering a question. Well, what do I reply? I looked at him and told myself, “If he can be Shiva, I can be Shiva too, why not?"

I looked back at him like a protagonist about to give a solid answer to the father who just asked a tough question? Usually the father asks questions like - why were you late yesterday night? Why didn't you come home after the party? Who is XYZ?. And here I had the answer ready.

I am Shiva

Yes. The limitless, transcendent and without a beginning and end. Yes, I am Shiva. Before I thought anything more on the question, I jutted - I am Shiva too.

He was annoyed and that is why he chose to stand up and walk away. I followed him to see how far he would go with that long stick and slow-moving legs. Soon he had to turn back and say, "stop following me."

"But I am not done yet. I want to talk to you more.", I said "Don't come back to me, don't follow me, don't talk to me. I have no time for ideal people like you who came to my sacred city and while away time. Go away. He added, you are not even fit to become the shadow of Shiva, you are 'mitti ki dhool' got it... just mitti ki dhool." He walked away.

The dust in the Sand

I had no clue what this phrase, 'mitti ki dhool' meant. So as soon as I went to a place where there was network, I started with my Hindi lessons. Mitti meant sand and I also found out that dhool in English meant the dust. And like Math when we add 1+1 to get a 2, I was adding mitti and dhool to make it meaningful.

The orange-robed man meant that I was nobody superior as Shiva or Zeus, none as important as the demi gods like Nandi or Garuda or even a human being worth spending time with.

I was the mere Dust in the Sand. No, it wasn't easy to sleep that night. After all he had punched my ego and made it into a paper cricket ball to hit for sixes and boundaries. The morning waited for my home coming. Coming to the bitter realities of life, of the unending saga of desires n' delusions, of what is reality and what is not and more importantly who am I? So, it was necessary, I went back to him and understood what the weird old bearded man had to say.

After walking from one ghat to the other since morning, I finally got hold of him, sitting on the end of a wall, almost about to fall.

?"Hello there, Sir", I called from the walkway. He refused to look down. I waited for a while and tried again. "Shiva, the man with a hundred beads, kindly come down and talk to me sir!"

In ten minutes we were in a canoe, enjoying the peaceful ride in the Ganges and me eagerly waiting to hear anything he had to say. I had no idea why, but he had won my attention and I was ready to listen.

?Of the Sand and its Time

Time, comfort, money - the Sand symbolizes this and a lot more. Just like the sand slips from our hands time doth slip from our life very fast. You will not even know how it came and went. The Sand signifies the passing of time.

Dust - the transient presence on this mother earth is what the dust symbolizes. In other words, we start as dust and end the journey as dust itself. It is that insignificant part of time which comes into existence and goes out when the call comes. The dust is only a minute particle in the atmosphere.

So here I was, learning from a man who looked like a vagabond of utmost insignificance - about the nature of my existence today and perhaps tomorrow too if I manipulate my human mind to introduce Shiva in all his wholesomeness without knowing the gist of my answer itself. Plainly put, one has to start from the foothill to climb the hill.

I cannot control the Sand but I am the dust and I can travel with the time to anywhere I want. I can be stagnant, I can take the journey with the storm or I can be a part of any existence I wish to be.

And once you groove into it, one values the time, the importance of various actions and its reactions. One understands integrity and ethics, respect and responsibilities and thus one takes the initial steps to the question, WHO AM I?

Before leaving the holy land of Varanasi, the old man blessed me with words. He said, "You have begun the journey towards the answer to one of the most intriguing questions. Do not lose your focus when you are on it. Instead, carry on like the dust in the sand. Because you are what I call you, the Mitti ki Dhool. And once you have the answer to my question, come back to me for more. Till then, do not even remember me. Focus on what I have told you."

From then on, it has been an inspiring journey from the self to the world that I have come to love. When you realize, this is what you are then the story of the dust in the sand becomes the one which is closest to the heart.