Yama And Maya -2

Dharmaraj, Karmaraj and Us! 

A rather personal post.
May be disturbing to some.
Please read Part -1 first

There was once a princess. Wait, that princess is us! And when the D-dude (I call him this with no disrespect at all but more in a spirit of conviviality) turns up, we all use our wiles and sometimes think we have won. The tale of 16 year old Prince Hima and his wife (now why did anyone marry off a girl to a Prince with such a dreadful horoscope?) and how they got one up to Dharmaraja is itself one of the many Mayas that life is about (yup, I am one more of them). Nobody tells us whether the horoscope had a remedial clause. The princess’s smartness always gets the credit. And we get the lesson that smartness wins.

What we manage to cadge out of Yama can at best be borrowed time. Incidentally for those interested in mythology or who may believe in what these forces stand for (I do) getting Shiva on your side ensures that Yama doesn’t make silly mistakes in carrying out orders. Why is all this coming up? Because I have my personal tales called the Seven Year Tales.

Back in 1986, my 74 year old dad, was visiting Bangalore on a mission with my mom. The details of the sequence are now hazy but briefly this is what transpired (as told to me later, I was in Kolkata). A few days after they arrived there, my younger niece aged around 4+ came to him very excited one day, with a folded up piece of paper and handed it to my dad. He asked her what it was and she answered quite innocently “Yama Dharmaraja sent you an invitation.” My mom got the jolt of her life. We have no idea what thoughts came to my dad but he was unreactive and thanked my niece as he received the invitation.

This is really uncanny and we have no idea how those words got into the little child’s head. I can’t recall either what was written on that paper, because those who can refresh my memory more have all disappeared from my life. And I don’t intend invoking spirits for this answer, because it serves no purpose anymore. Sometimes I’m amazed at how messages across the realms, choose unexpected channels to reach their destination. 

Soon thereafter the poor kid went down with chicken pox. My older niece caught it from her and then came the big shock. My dad went down with it to everyone’s horror. I have other tales about this for another time – if the purpose and intent of this post are fulfilled that is. But now read on about this.

A couple of nights into the fever, Dad had a dream. My guess is it was one of those waking dreams. There is a major part of my dad's thoughts that I never got to know and never will now, I guess, gone as he is beyond the barrier.   My mom told me that he recounted the dream much later when they were quite sure he had recovered, and they had returned to Chennai from Bangalore where this had transpired. 

The dream went as follows. Yama appeared before Dad and told him he had planned to take him away  but he had changed his mind, no worries. He was just giving him a "scare." And he was giving Dad another “ten” years.

Now I am pretty sure that Mom replaced “seven” with ten, either in her own head or to save me from paranoia. Bear with me till I tell you about the seven-year-itch. Mom somehow wanted to unload this dream to me. And maybe prepare me in a general way. Because those nine weeks (he took nine weeks to recover) he had been in a zone between worlds. And she had honestly thought I wouldn’t see my dad alive again. Well I was made to believe I had dad for another ten years and anyway, who knows Yama and dad’s hallucinations could be trusted? I confess I did have a little bottled anger at the fact that Dad had landed himself in a house where children had the pox one after another as soon as he arrived in their midst, only for him to catch it. The one and only time my mom offered – rather was requested - to baby sit, this had to go and happen. This is difficult to write about and I will cut a long story short, but SEVEN years later, Yama arrived in this house and I swear to God I saw him, clutching at my dad with his icy fingers. Dad was having a heart attack at two in the morning and Mom was sleeping through it, on a tranquilizer. Dad's younger brother had just died and he was crumbling inside with grief. And possibly, survivor guilt? For all I know he had been thinking about the Yama dream from 1986?

His life was saved through timely intervention (our beloved doctor - RIP - who thankfully wasn't on tranquilizers and answered the phone and was galvanized into action)  but he never got the same life back again. Somewhere we all knew the countdown had started. It would be more numbers to count - or less, but the end was within view. True enough eleven months later, he started to fade and was gone. Maybe memories took hold of him as his brother's birthday was crossed. Or maybe Dharmaraj had given him a date that we didn’t know of? Once the end comes all the ifs and buts dissolve like the ashes in the Ganga. 

However there is a time for ifs and buts. And we now come to my Mom’s seven years and the power of not Yama, but of his alter ego Maya. Mom once told me “Give me seven days and I will give you seven years.” She wanted seven days all to herself, free from responsibilities and interruptions (mom had too much thrust upon her in her evening years). And she told me she would live an additional seven years of quality life for me (that's a mother's heart wanting to be there for her children). 

Why is all this important? Because maybe this is the illusion we convert into reality as we light the lamps for Yama. Why do we call it Yama Deep Daan? We are gifting this light to the Lord of Darkness and Nothingness. The one who gives the call and cuts the cord. "I give you this offering of lamps that you may grant me the light of life on a longer lease." I failed my promise to give my mom those seven days of her “vacation.” Remember the regrets I was counting? It just never happened.

I have failed many promises to her. But hell, I feel like she’s telling me I can still make such promises to myself! What if seven days of shraddha – doing what I need to with dedication and focus – could knock seven years off me? Not off my wisdom, no fears. But off this weary flesh that feels so ready to cave in. It’s a form of persistence and endurance that some people would call “penance.” That Princess did it. This princess can give it a shot? “We make our own destiny, Princess!” is one of my quotes on my Facebook profile. Don’t laugh at the source.

Our own karmas wear our bodies out. Our own karmas could repair those bodies too and rewind them to the New Twenty? Why do we fear the sixties and thereafter? Because of this weariness of flesh and bone. As Yama Deepam approaches, I hear a voice in my head. It says you can try. The illusion of time can favor you if you know how to handle it. The lamps are for something more complex than the fearful Yama who is assigned as the scapegoat to have the last laugh. They are for the light within and without to shine brighter and reach further. For each moment to be mindful. For the pauses between the seconds to awaken to our understanding, so we can fill them. They are for sipping and savoring the elixir that the Kalasha holds – Amrita or the secret of immortality. So even as we stretch the seconds to favor us, we stretch our weary bodies to refuel and recharge. And we open our channels so what remains as we transition the realms, can continue to course through younger and more able veins.

Footnote: There is something about that magic number sixteen. The song should have been "Sixteen Till I Die". Of course the seven factor is personal for my parents.

PS - The resentments we spontaneously feel are the effect of the same "Maya". To family who find mention in the post, know I love you, though I hardly know you any more :(