A House Named ….

Lakshmi Narayan

Once met a gadabout on my travels who kept me entertained with tall stories of where he had gone and who he had met. But the oddest experience he said he had was when he lost his bearings and found himself in front of a cottage in the midst of a forest clearing one darkening dusk.

As he approached the dwelling to seek shelter he saw an old gent clad in nothing but a loincloth with his eyes closed, his hands raised heavenwards and upright on one leg. He kept chanting “aum, aum,” and seemed lost to the world.
Just as our wanderer was wondering what to do next, the door opened and a smiling youth stepped out. Upon hearing of our champ’s plight he readily offered food and drink and a place to rest his tired head.

Seeing him stare at the storklike figure, he was quick to clarify, “That’s my father. He stands like this for hours together because he believes that only by suffering and penance can he melt god’s heart.” He took our roomer-for-the-night inside and introduced him to the rest of the family, which consisted of his mother, an older brother and a younger sister.

When they sat down to dinner, our hero observed that the mother only sipped water. He enquired after her health and was told she was hale and hearty but took it upon herself to fast as often as possible, so she could make the world a better place by her sacrifices.

“And what about you?” our boarder put the question to his young saviour. “My gods are logic and science. I go by the laws of physics,” he shrugged. Our traveller was surprised that people with so many contradictory beliefs could reside under the same roof in such harmony. For instance, the sister was the follower of a particular holy book and was of the opinion that so long as she abided by its teachings to the letter, she was on the right path.

As they began partaking the meal, our guest noticed the father was a strict vegetarian, eschewing even onion and garlic, the daughter a vegan who denied herself butter and milk, the older son allowing himself a couple of eggs and the middle one a complete carnivore who relished his tandoori chicken. Yet they seemed a jovial lot as they tucked into their food amidst much bantering and repartees.

Early next morning our adventuresome wayfarer was rudely awakened by the sounds of someone singing at the top of his voice — that too, off-key. And what a sight he beheld! There was the eldest son swinging to his own music in the throes of some secret ecstasy. Noting his lodger’s bewildered expression, the father took pains to enlighten him: “You see, whenever my son thinks of the Almighty he is seized by a joy so overpowering, he becomes intoxicated with love.” Unable to figure out whether he was in a loony-bin or a torture chamber, our man decided to bid adieu to his newfound friends and make tracks as soon as he politely could.

Before the guest left, the host felt obliged to explain the policies of his household to him. “We can do as we please here, provided we follow one dictum strictly. And that is, Live and let live!”

“But that’s easier said than done,” argued our little shaver. “When five people are pulling in five different directions, how can there be peace?”

“Don’t you have five fingers in your palm, each dissimilar in length and size, each used for diverse tasks? Yet they all function together as one to make the hand work,” put across the wise patriarch.

Acknowledging the soundness of his words our whippersnapper bowed his head silently in respect.

Our rambler took one last lingering look at the house venturing onwards. And that’s when he spotted the nameplate on the door glinting in the early morning sunshine. It had just one word engraved on it: PARADISE!

To find harmony in our lives, we must accept each other for what we are.

(Excerpted from Fables from Beyond, Authors Upront, 2020)

Journalist, author and animal activist Lakshmi Narayan is a former assistant editor of Femina and former editor of Eve’s Weekly & Flair