The Carbon Reverie
Holding hands, we strolled past the water sprinkler spraying fine mist, greeting us with a cool breeze. It was sweltering in mid-May. Shyama looked dazzling even in this scorching heat. Kohl outlined her radiant eyes. She pointed excitedly to the dusty edifice which was undergoing construction since the past few weeks. “It's finally open to visitors,” she exclaimed. Before I could wonder why there was an anthropological museum inside the Indian Institute of Science, she dragged me inside a dingy room with gloomy yellow lights. Exhibits of antique tools, pieces of fabric & scrolls used by ancient civilizations stretched before us.
“Hello! welcome to the museum. Allow me to offer you a tour.” I jolted in fear to the boorish voice which emanated from the dark corner of the room. A plump and sturdy gentleman extended his hand in a friendly gesture.
“Thank you for the offer. We would like to spend some time alone,” said Shyama as she smiled and dragged me to the section of ancient scrolls. The gentleman stood perplexed, rubbing his thumb on a Yamaha keychain. “These scrolls are carbon dated to be at least 1000 years old,” exclaimed Shyama as she pointed to the weathered Papyrus scroll written in sanskrit.
“The Devās do not take a stick and protect people like a cowherd. Those they want to protect, they bestow upon him intelligence.” I read aloud the translation printed on the museum label. The gentleman rambled past us, putting on an act of inspecting the exhibit cases.
“Have a look at this!” Shyama called out from the art section. I had always admired her passion in history and art. “Quick!” she lugged me to a painting of the great god Siva killing death itself. As I stood appreciating the intricacies of this elegant piece of art, I was startled by a beeping sound emanating from the gentleman.
“Its time to go, Madhan,” he said, glaring straight into my eyes. I stood frozen, baffled. Shayama whispered into my ears, the school prayer I was well acquainted with
“From the unreal lead me to the real!
From the darkness lead me to the light!
From death unto immortality!”
Her tender voice calmed my senses. Coated with a layer of perspiration, my vision grew blurry. Shayama smiled graciously. She raised her hands, gesturing a flute. The beeping continued, more dominantly. A sudden flash of light engulfed my senses.
I woke up to the carbon monoxide alarm beeping inside the library I was in. As I regained my senses, with the medical staff administering treatment, I stole a glance at the book I was reading - The Bhagavad Gita, with the pages open to chapter 9 verse 31
“He soon becomes righteous and attains eternal peace. Proclaim it boldly, Ο son of Kunti, that My devotee never perishes.”
- A Madhan