41
GATHERING
[Some people believe that God loves them, which is true, because in every holy scripture no matter of which religion, it is written that God loves us so much that in every age He comes on Earth to take care of us, millennia after millennia, and in each age. If He didn’t love people, He wouldn’t bother to come and save people. But God can’t love us until we do love God.]
The next morning, my teacher calls all messengers and sends them to call everyone for a gathering. It’s our ritual. When there is gathering all messengers spread messages in every hut and a person comes in the gathering from each hut.
We’ve taken Daxa at teacher’s house last night. Pavan has brought her mother and Krupa at my teacher’s house. Daxa wasn’t hurt much. Her sister banded her with cotton and spirit. Maybe the vine has been invented in the wall for clearing the wounds but then people have started misusing it.
At afternoon, I’m sitting among hundreds of my people in the gathering ground. It’s a vast semi-desert area near the water channel. The place has been selected near the channel so we don’t need to bring water at Gathering. Sometimes gathering lasts for hours and people needs water. The channel is a boon at that time.
On my left side is all trainees, my teacher, Tarun, Teena, and my father are sitting in a circle. They are worried and anxious.
“as the oldest man in the wall I declare this gathering began,” Chandan Dada says, with a roll of his eyes as if he is trying to see everyone standing there in a single gaze, “as you all know, the last few days have been strange, and quite a bit seems centered around Jagamal, some of his student kids and two fearless who have come from beyond the wall.”
I see at Tarun and Tenna. They have just curiosity in their eyes but no fear of the gathering like my people have.
“In the wall, all are gossiping about them and people are feared.” the old man continues, “today one of our men Bhadra has called this gathering. Jagmal and all the persons accused of rebel have come here by their wish which shows we have still our tradition and no one is breaking them.”
These words start off a rumbling of whispers and murmurs.
“The rules have been broken,” Bhadra stands up, “Jagmal and his students have broken them. They are rule-breakers now.”
I would have feared by accusing on us but I’m at least relieved that my teacher is here and he is a scholar, a man of words and man of knowledge. Bhadra can’t win him in arguments.
“Bhadra,” the old man says, his voice low but strong, “haven’t you learn the rules of the gathering yet?” he pauses a while, stares in his eyes, “if you going to blabber your mouth before I finish speaking, you can go to your hut and leave, because today the gathering isn’t in a cheerful mood.”
Bhadra nods, without uttering a word. At least he has learned some rules. He doesn’t shout back at the old man like he did last time in gathering.
Then the old man looks at my teacher, “Jagmal, you know our people are worries. We don’t want anything that isn’t welcoming.” He continues, “reason we are here is that almost every Sunya in the wall has come up to me in the last few days either gossiping about Jagmal or complaining what two fearless are doing in the wall.” Old man spreads hand in front of him, “can you tell us what they are doing in your house?”
My teacher stands up and nods to the old man, “I’m sorry to hear that something done by me has bothered my people and I’m the reason of your worry but I assure you that there is nothing to worry about.” He looks over the crow around, “two fearless are in my house are my friend and they just want to hang out in the wall.” I hear my teacher lying first time in life, “they aren’t harmful to us.”
“You have a chance Bhadra,” the old man says, “You can ask me anything. Now you can question him, but through me not directly.” The old man looks at Tarun and Teena, “you two are strangers for us so you can’t take part in our gathering as our tradition. You’re not allowed to say anything until we ask you to.”
“They are training some kids and planning rebel against the one whose name we don’t speak.” Bhadra starts, “ask him about it?”
“Is this right?” the old man looks at my teacher, “Jagmal, you start.”
“Well,” my teacher starts, his eyes darting around like he is checking if he should tell the truth or not, “I accept this. Two fearless are training some kids and we are planning to rebel against the one whose name we don’t speak but I’m no longer feared to speak his name.”
“Don’t you know rebel is prohibited in the wall?” the old man asks, “we are peace loving people and you should let us live with peace.”
“I’m sorry to say that but you are wrong Dada. We are not living in the peace.”
Again the murmur starts in the crowd.
Old man makes everyone calm and says, “What do you want to say?”
“Each time our people go beyond the wall in what numbers I don’t know but they come in fewer numbers than it.” My teacher continues, “Each time train comes it brings a number of dead bodies with it and when the family of dead person want any answer for it – the answer is just of two words – an accident happens.” He looks over the crowd with intense eyes, “why these families can’t call a gathering to get an answer for their beloved one’s death?” he pauses, laughs a slight, “and you say we live in peace?” out of every ten huts people in five huts are starving. Our people have no grain to eat. We are forced to labour beyond the wall. And you say we are living in peace. Dada, we are sitting here happily and discussing in a gathering but 230 people from us are doing hard labour beyond the wall, at this time there is no guarantee of their lives.” he smiles through his beard, “can you say how many of them will come back alive?”
“no.” dada says, “no one can say.”
“Then how can we say we live in the peace?” my teacher looks at the crows, “how many of you have your family member beyond the wall?”
Almost two hundred people raise their hands.
My teacher continues, “I want to ask you just one question tell me honestly anyone of you has peace?”
“No,” everyone says in the chorus.
“Can you have the peace in your heart till your loving one will come back alive?”
“No,” people shout. This time the entire crowd shouts not the only people whose family member is away beyond the wall. The echo rings in the area.
“Now tell me, Dada,” my teacher looks at the old man, “is there peace in the wall?”
“no.” he says, “not until we have to go beyond the wall. Not until the train comes to take us there.”
“The same is I’m saying,” my teacher continues, “This time the rebel will be strong. Half of the fearless worriers are with us and some of Devatas want to overthrow the crown of the creator.”
The creator – my teacher speaks the banned word.
In the wall, no one dares to speak that name in public. No one is allowed to speak that name in a gathering.
“Shut your mouth Jagmal,” the old man shouts, “for the god’s sake shut your mouth. You are banned from the gathering.”
“No, let him speak.” The crow starts to shout, “He is speaking for us.”
The Gathering rule says that if the crowd wants to listen to someone, no one can stop him.
Dada stops shouting.
“Enough.” Bhadra shouts before my teacher can speak anything, “You fool people. They’ll kill you. The creator will kill you – with you, everyone will die in a single day if he wants.”
“Then let him want this,” my teacher shouts, I hear him shouting for the first time. He is a kind and calm person. “Let him kill us all at once. It is better to die all at once than waiting for death and fearing of the death of someone we love.”
The crowd shouts, “That’s right.”
“We are all dead if the creator knows about the rebel,” Bhadra shouts, “we should punish the rebels to save in the wall.”
“Enough, Bhdrta,” my teacher continues, “what are you saying – dead. Since when we are alive so we will be dead?” his voice grows louder, “we are all dead. We are dead when we send our children to work beyond the wall. We are dead when we can’t do anything and they rape our sixteen years old girl. We are dead when someone dies during the work and his family gets nothing except the dead body.”
“You have gone mad,” Bhadra shouts.
“Yes,” my teacher says, “I’m made. You know why? I can’t be a Sunya without being mad. I can’t see my small kids working in dangerous construction work without being mad. I can’t bow to the one who is cruel and unkind without being mad. Can you mu people?”
“No,” the crowd shouts, “we are all mad. We don’t want our children to work beyond the wall.”
“That’s I’m doing,” my teacher says, “as soon as our boys will be trained we will declare a war against the creator.”
“And will you win?” Dada shouts, “Do you think you and someone the kids you have selected can win?
“Yes,” my teacher says, “I’ve not only some kids but the Avatar of Lord Kalki with me.”
This word draws a complete silence in the crowd.
“What you said?” the old man asks, “Lord Kalki. So you believe in this?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” he says, “stand up Samrat.”
I stand up from the ground and go near my teacher. He takes my hand and throws in the air, “this boy is an avatar of Lord Kalki. Beyond the wall, fearless believes in him. Some of Devatas even believe him as the slayer of the creator.” He looks over the crowd, “if beyond the wall people can trust a boy of us then why can’t we believe in our boy?”
“What’s the proof they are not wrong?” Bhadra says, “what if this boy isn’t an avatar?”
“How many of you were beyond the wall last time?” my teacher asks.
More than two hundred people stand up from the ground, “we were.” They shout in chorus.
“Then you must have seen this boy knocking down three fearless without any weapon.” He pauses, “haven’t you?”
“We have.” People shouts.
“How a boy from the Sunyas can win three of armed fearless including their leader if he isn’t avatar?”
No one answer. Everyone is looking at each other.
Even Dada and Bhadra are staring at me.
And the next moment I see people around me on their knees, their heads bowed to me in respect.
My teacher looks at me, “say something lord Kalki.”
I look at the crowd, my heart is pumping fast in my chest, “I don’t know I’m Avatar or not but it’s sure I’ll kill the creator and make my people free. We’ll fight.” I pause, “don’t bow to me. I’m your son. I’m the one whom you love. I know you love all children inside the wall but you are helpless when you send them beyond the wall but this is enough. Now we won’t be a slave. We’ll fight.”
People get on their feet and shout in chorus, “We’ll fight.”
Their echo rings in the entire in the wall.
The gathering is over. There is no need to speak any decision. Today not some old people have taken a decision but the decision is of all my people – they want a rebellion. They want a war.
***
