The Goddess

The morning bells ring at the Kancheepuram mahavishnu temple.The first rays of sunshine is seen through the clouds.The orange light touches the sparkling water of the temple pond as the pujaris and sadhus take their bath chanting the morning prayers.

The smell of sandalwood fills the air as one approaches the temple.The women have reached with their baskets full of fresh flowers and they settle themselves on the two sides of the main pathway,gearing up for yet another day at the footsteps of god’s abode.

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I dream about her nowadays.Its been a few weeks that she has been in my mind from dawn to dusk.The time I spend with her,I feel uplifted,I feel something special like never before.I wake up excited and rush to the workshop to see her sitting on the table.She still hasn’t spoken a word to me.But I have fallen in love with her.

I run my hands slowly over her face,I stop to hold them in my palms,and I look into her eyes.I pause.The silence seems to have stopped time as she looks into me. I look at my shivering palms.I run my hands over her body as a chill runs down my spine.She stays there motionless,her soul yet to be breathed into her.

I created her and many like her,they are my children, fragments of my mind and imagination which is looked upon by thousand other eyes.I create God’s.The God’s that all of you worship at the temple,along the roadside,under the tree and in your homes.

Unlike the other works I had done,it was as if she was making me bring her into reality from the pieces in my mind.Each day,I touched her and chiseled away edges like a small boy opening his gift wrapper.My hands worked on its own,I had worked all night long for the last week as I just couldn’t keep down my chisel and walk away from her.I feared,I would lose her form from my mind.I wanted her to become real.I felt a chill and a cold shiver as I touched her every morning and ran my fingers over her..as each day passed,the more alive she became from my mind and the more I felt the calmness in me.

I love her the most amongst all my creations and tonight I spend it with her before she is taken away from me.Soon,she would be closed in a room and I would have to stay in long queues to catch a glimpse of her.Her eyes,the long strands of her hair,her curvaceous body,her eternal form,the beauty which would be soon covered in elements that stink of human greed and lust.I will never get to see her the same way as I see her now.I wait for them to come knocking on my door.

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The wind carries the bright sarrees hung on the clothesline like the waves of the sea.The birds take flight in a flock in a motion so gentle as the sun bids adieu for the day and the sky turns orange. I can hear my breathing,its as if everything around me just slowed down a notch.The wind blowing the untied hair over my face,I stand on the terrace looking down.All it would take me is a gentle step forward to end this.

I have see him look at her in a way he has never looked at me in the past seven years.I see him touch her in ways I have always longed for and the very sight of his hands running over her make me crave,make me plead to God to put me in her place.

I wonder if it was better to be alive and living if I may call it so as a human and live a life devoid of love or to be a statue like her standing in front of me. Ironically,he hardly notices my presence here in the house and I am the living statue,while she is what is alive in his mind.

I look at myself in the broken mirror.I stare at myself.Her beauty makes me envious..she is what I wished to be and she has what I wish for everyday..she has his heart.I run my hand over her face..I feel like tearing her face apart with my bare hands. There were times,when I felt like cracking her into pieces with the very tools that were used to make her.

I don’t..I can’t do it..For she will soon be the reason for our son’s school fees and good food for the coming months.He has spent a lot of effort and time on this work of his,for which the head priest has promised him a sumptuous amount of money.I will wait..I will wait for the day they take her away from him.I wan’t him back,but I will never have a place in his heart the way she has.She will bring us money,will take us out of the pain we have been in,a good night’s meal..she will bring us clothes,she will bring a smile to my son’s face.For that,I will wait.

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I walk across the temple pond with the Prasad in my hands.Father want’s the materials for the aarti within an hour.I see people of my age dressed in fashionable clothes,giggling and taking photos on their phones.They must have come on a tour probably to the temple.I wonder how it would feel to go on a tour.I wonder how the freedom of not having to wake up at 4am every morning and not having to stay infront of a piece of stone and do aarti all day long be.I wonder how it would be to be born to rich parents,to be in the presence of a girl,to do what you feel like without having someone to tell you to.

The day I was born,my future was decided,each day,each hour,each week and year, to be the pujari of this temple.Why? because my father is one.

From the clothes I wear,from what I ate,when I ate,when I slept,what I saw,what I did,what I thought,I have been told what to do and what not to even think of doing.I was born a puppet and if I be like my father I will end up being the puppet master to my son soon.

I wish..I wish to step out,to step out of this chakravyuha, parents,relatives,the society,all stand in my way with weapons so sharpened with emotions to keep me where I am.I am stuck.But there must be a way out,there always is.I just need to take the leap of faith once,take the risk.

As I walk to the the aarti shop,I see the renowned stonesmith and his wife walk by.Father has given the task of creating the diety to him,a diety whose beauty,which no one has seen yet,its tales already drawing curiosity from people far and wide.I wonder how it would look like.I have a feeling he would’ve drawn inspiration for such a beauty from his wife.She must be a few years younger to me and I’ve seen her around since my childhood.I wish someone tells her how beautifull she is,especially the days of the festivals when she wears her orange saree and comes to the temple.As she closes her eyes,folds her hands and stands in front of the temple,her smiles takes my breath away every time I see it,the small freckles,how she pulls back and ties her hair into a bundle.I create a picture of the moment in my mind.A thing of beauty is a joy forever isn’t it.I look forth to seeing her at the temple each day. She was never mine,never meant to be mine,never will be mine..she is not mine to hold..yet I wish for that moment in some world where I will get a chance to,till then I will hold onto her memories. I shouldn’t be having such thoughts in my mind,nothing at all,but it somehow makes me feel good and it feels like I am kissing by that freedom I crave for.

I take a deep breath as the couple walk by me,her saree gently brushing my arms as she walks by.I wonder how life has been so unfair to many.She is the wife of a person who creates God’s.People spend money blindly when it comes to something related to the temple.They stand in long queues.Pay money,not to stand in queues,for the prasadams and pujas.All to please this diety,this piece of stone,which he carved into a goddess.This piece of stone.His work…yet they don’t glance at him twice.He lives in a shack.He is paid a meagre amount for his work.Yet,his work will bring the temple and its people enough wealth for generations to come.It will be a beacon of hope in the minds of the devottees who will come for genrations from places far and wide.The happiness in their hearts when they see the diety and pray.His creation..what a noble work he does.Yet he lives in a shack,fighting hard to meet his ends meet.Why is the world such a funny place I wonder.

I see a mother touch a cow on the street.She prays in front of it and offers some food to the cow and strokes her hand over it with so much affection.She walks ahead,past the people sitting with outstretched arms.A coin drops into one of them as a sign of satisfying ones guilt.I bet the kid sitting there has eaten less than what this cow has.Haha…The cows here are more lucky and fed than these kids sitting in front of God’s abode. Maybe it was lucky to be born as a cow,than into a human body for the child to lead such a life,devoid of love,devoid of a good meal or life. Why is the world such a funny place I wonder.

 I have my eyes set on my goal.The plan is clear and within a few days I will be out of this mess.The artisan will have completed the diety.The day when the world sees the diety, will light the lamp for my freedom.I have seen father with the goldsmiths,the jewellery for this diety will be made soon,once the goldsmith gets to see the goddess,the designs would be made accordingly and the jewels selected.I have been counting down to the day when the diety is completed,as the jewels will be stored in my father’s safe once the work for the dieties ornaments begin.

That safe box will be my ticket to freedom…Is it wrong?For all the world has done,it is a wrong that will make a lot of thing right in this world.I will ensure a part of the money from it reaches her,reaches the creater of my fortune.I will make it right.I am going to the artisans house tomorrow morning to give his family some good food,clothes and some love.Someone needs to put things right

Forgive me father.I am waiting..

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I can hear the temple bells ringing. The time is nearing.I look at her before me.I knew this day would come,when I touched the stone in front of me the very first day and I saw her in it.

I hear the footsteps outside my door.The head pujari,it must be or his son,they are never late.I can see the outline of his shaved head and  dhoti in the light coming inside the dark room.He seems to be holding something in his hands.

Does the world deserve her I wonder? What has the world given me in return? I have made dieties like her for years together,I have made God’s who grant the wishes of the thousands of devotees,and yet I live here in this shack,in this God forsaken place!It is not fair! And her.. her beauty will be smeared and she will live locked in that room for generations to come.She is special,I made her..she is mine,just mine and only for my eyes.

I hear the knock…I stand up..I walk up to her for one last time..A tear comes down my eyes..I run my fingers over her face..Why..why I wonder..

I take the chisel in my hand and strike her into a hundred pieces with a single blow.