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| Sunday, 30 January 2005 |
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Telling tales: The Laws of Nature I've been a physics teacher all my life. I've taught children how to perceive things clearly. I've always taught them to be objective. To be skeptic and to think rationally.
I don't know where it all started, but at first I was not that concerned about the condition of my mother. People age, their bodies grow weak, they get ill quite so often. It's natural. It's a part of the human physique. Even when the doctors diagnosed her with cancer, I was not that troubled. Cancer is so common, nowadays. Though it can be fatal if not diagnosed at its early stages, it is a curable disease. Surgery, radiation therapy, hormone therapy, immunotherapy, there are a lot of ways to tackle cancer. "Professor, I know a man of your status won't say no to this. But just to be on the safe side, we're planning to do some radiotherapy on Mrs. Perera. If that's okay with you?" Worried I had the right not to be worried. My mother was in the hands of the most outstanding doctors in the country, and as a physicist I knew well enough these things were done with utmost precision. "You know the procedure better than me professor. But I must tell you that it's best to do surgery first, so that we can perform a clean removal." Even though I felt uneasiness creeping down my throat back then, I felt that it was the logical thing to do at the time. But ever since, the operation went terribly wrong, and I was given the bad news, I felt that I could never forgive myself. I could have at least gone for a second opinion. Why didn't I look into this more? Why was I so quick to decide? Why didn't I take her to India or somewhere else to perform the surgery? Why? I felt wretched. Chemotherapy There must be some other way to help her. She hasn't clinically passed out yet, and the chemotherapy just might have an effect. Yes. There might still be hope. I'll call every doctor I know. I'll inform my best colleagues to look into this. I'll move her into another hospital where she'll be looked after more carefully. Yes, that's what I'll do. She'll get better without doubt. But that was not to be. "I'm sorry professor, that's the best we can do....." I still remember those words. They were spoken with utmost resolution. Though I realise now, at that time I couldn't hear the tiredness and weariness that was embedded in the doctor's voice. It was drowned probably by my own emotional upheaval. My body was trembling all over. My heart felt heavier than ever. My thoughts were frozen. Nothing came in. Nothing went out. Only the feeling of utter hopelessness and powerlessness remained. I don't know how long I remained immobilised in that state but as soon as I recovered, I kept pouring him with questions. Several times did I go through with him the list of possibilities that we could have done. But most of my remarks were indirect. They were not based on anything. They were merely a distraction for my mind to grasp the full extent of what was happening. The doctor probably knew this, and he answered every one of my questions patiently and with respect. New turn No doubt I was miserable. But life was about to take a whole new turn. By chance, I met an old friend of mine, a batch-mate to be precise. I was just going through with him, the old times we had together, to give my mind a rest, when he came to a subject that I never would have thought of considering sane, if I was in a better state of mind consulting. Fortune-teller "He's an outstanding fellow. The first day I went to see him, he told me to sit down. Then he told me to close my eyes and concentrate on my problem - which I did reluctantly." My friend always did have a remarkable knack for telling stories. "I still didn't have faith in him you know. He's a sort of rusty guy. You'll never guess he has these psychic powers, when you first see him. He looks very much like a typical beggar." "Anyway," he continued. Partially overjoyed at the fact that I was listening. "as I was saying, when I opened my eyes, he gave me a little note saying the exact reason for my visit and what exactly I should do to resolve the problem. "This guy is practically a monk, machang. He must have spent years training in the Himalayas and all. You see, he can read your mind just like that and what's more, he knows about the future. "I know you physicists have a theory about time, right? It's relative and all that shit. Well I think this guy has the power to enforce it. You know what I mean?" Arya Rama He went on and on. Finally I decided to meet this fortune-teller. There's no harm in trying, is there? I was accompanied by my talkative friend who narrated probably the whole life story of Arya Rama, the fortune-teller. "Many people search their whole life for this kind of thing, professor." My friend continued. "Shree Arya Rama has a list of the people who will seek him, in this lifetime. He has the scriptures written before hand for these people, and by destiny when they meet Shree Arya Rama, he gives them these scriptures and with it he transcends their inner souls to a higher level of understanding. "Do you remember the time we had philosophy lectures? Yeah, I know. You and I always had an excuse for jumping out of class. But do you remember Mrs. Jayasuriya (I think I got her name right this time), she told us some thing about a paradigm shift or something? "It's like watching a Perahara from different angles. If you stand by the road and watch it, you'll see only the dances that are closer to you. But if you had the chance to view it from a higher level, say a balcony or a roof top, you'll be able to see the parade from a far. Dancers, drummers, elephants, you'll be able to see them before they reach you." Destination We neared our destination. Though I didn't say a word during our ride, I was beginning to feel some eagerness to meet this guru in person. If he's half the person he was described to be, I could have an interesting conversation with him. The laws of nature, the dynamics and static states of the cosmos. The very meaning of our existence, and most important of all, the state of my mother. "He sits on the floor in a meditative stance." Said my friend as he led me through a dimly lit passage filled with pilgrims. The building was not renovated in decades and it smelt of filth and rotting canvas. "You'll have to bow to him and sit near him, but not at the same level, maybe two or three steps lower. And remember don't speak to him unless spoken to, and be careful, he has nothing to prove, you're the one with the problem." As I entered the visiting room alone, I felt a sudden gush of awe and grandeur. The room was lit by candles which hung from the ceiling around the room, and in the very center of the room there laid a golden Buddha floating in mid space. "Touch it, my child. Feel the emptiness with your own hands." The words were spoken in mystical, yet serene manner. Before I went further I did as he asked. But to my amazement there was nothing there. Just empty space. Yet the statue seemed so real. I went closer and sat beside him, debating on whether I should introduce myself or not, and if so how I should address him? "Professor, I know your troubles. I felt them the moment you entered this room. " There was a brief moment of silence. "But I never foresaw that you would come to see me in person. I thought it would take several more lifetimes." I held my breath while trying to figure out what I should say. "But fear not my friend, I will do what I can to help you and your mother." He strained his eyebrows as if he was in deep thought and then looked up at me again. "I shall send for your scripture at once. It's in Tibet, now. The only problem is the travel expenditure..." "I'll take care of that." I still can't believe my own words. Was I drugged? Was I hypnotized? What exactly came over me? The next day I gave him nearly half of what I own. A week later when I went to the same place as scheduled, I found the place empty. No guru, no pilgrims, no candles. Just the empty room in which an optical delusion of a statue was present, the real statue hidden in the ceiling. My friend was nowhere to be found. Probably gone out of the country by now. My mother was given a proper burial and as for myself; I still wonder about the cosmos and the laws of nature, but now with a heightened grasp on reality. by Ranga Kamaladasa |
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| Politics | Produced by Lake House |
I've taught them the importance of abstract thinking. So why is it that
I, of all the miserable creatures in this world, chose not to believe in
my own conscience? Why is it that I, chose to believe in the very thing
I've criticised all my life? Why is it that I, with all my experience and
knowledge, didn't have the courage to stay calm?
