Gods Call to Mathura
The ways of the Lord are mysterious, they say, and I
whole-heartedly agree. There have been many instances in my life when
mid-course corrections were suddenly applied to me by the benevolent hand of
God. These changes forced me to do sudden about turns. When I had been
heading North, figuratively, my turn-about (no pun intended) made me go
South.
The hand of God was not always immediately evident. It was only many years
later, when I looked back at my life, that I realized that it had been a
divine order.
This story, however, tells of a call from God in which God, through a
spokesperson, indicated that I had indeed received a call. It was apparently
a birthday invitation!
It all began one very ordinary day, many years ago. I was in the North
Indian town of Nowgong, an unremarkable place. I had visited there to spend
ten days with my brother in law. The only highlight of my visit to this
dreary place was a trip to the world renowned Khajuraho temples, just sixty
odd kilometers from Nowgong .
Khajuraho, as you perhaps know, is a UNESCO World Heritage site. Its temples
were built over a span of 200 years, from 950 to 1150 AD. Although the stone
carvings in the temples are exquisite, their claim to fame are the
highly erotic, indeed
pornographic, sculptures that has tourists visiting in droves. It is
just 67 kilometers from Nowgong.
The day to depart from Nowgong soon arrived. I had a train ticket from
Jhansi, which was about 120 kilometers to the west. It was an overnight
train that I was catching. When we called to check whether the train was on
time, the ticketing clerk expressed surprise that I was traveling on a
"slow" train when the super-fast Shatabdi Express was leaving Jhansi around
the same time. It would reach Delhi in a few hours and was much more
comfortable. To the query whether tickets were available on Shatabdi Express
he remarked jocularly that the train was never full and we could buy a
ticket just before its arrival.
The first thing that I did at Jhansi railway station, when I arrived there,
was to cancel the ticket I was holding. I got an immediate cash refund. I
was told that Shatabdi would be arriving on platform number 5 in about an
hour's time and tickets were available at the platform itself. I soon joined
the queue at platform number 5.
Tickets were issued about fifteen minutes before the arrival of the train.
When my turn came and I asked for a ticket to New Delhi, I received the
shocking answer that the train was full! Someone behind me in the queue
helpfully suggested that I buy a ticket to Agra and, from there, "adjust"
with the ticket collector and go on to Delhi. A ticket to Agra was available
and I purchased it.
When the ticket collector came to check my ticket, I asked him what the
chances of converting this Agra ticket to a Delhi one were. "Zero" he
replied. "There is a large group of Japanese tourists coming aboard at Agra
and the train will be full. I suggest that you get off at Agra and take a
bus" he said.
There seemed to be no alternative but to follow his advice and I reluctantly
got off at Agra. "I have never seen the Taj Mahal" I pondered to myself "why
not take this opportunity to visit it?" The more I thought about it, the
better it sounded. I decided to spend the night in Agra.
I was soon approached by a tout asking me whether I wanted a hotel
accommodation. He looked quite a decent chap so I told him my budget. He
soon had me speeding in an
autorickshaw to the hotel. He asked me whether I would like to go
sightseeing the next day and soon we had arranged for his brother to come in
at 7 am and take me on a tour of Agra's attractions - mainly the Taj Mahal
and the Red Fort. "Do you want a bus ticket to Delhi after the tour?" he
helpfully asked and when I said that I did, promised to buy the ticket for
me.
When I visited the hotel restaurant for dinner that evening, there was a
lone diner there - a German. He smiled at me and suggested that since the
restaurant was empty, I join his table. I agreed.
He told me that he would be visiting the Taj Mahal before sunrise the next
day so that he could appreciate its exquisite beauty as the rising sun's
rays lit it up. He would then be going to Lucknow to celebrate the Indian
festival of colors,
holi,
with friends. "Where have you come from?" he asked and I told him about
Khajuraho. He couldn't believe his ears. "An Indian temple with pornographic
sculptures?" he asked in disbelief. "Yes" I replied. I told him that I had a
book with pictures of Khajuraho and would get it from my room. His eyes
almost popped out of their sockets when he saw the pictures. He decided on
the spot to change his travel plans and to visit Khajuraho.
The next day I visited the Taj Mahal and the Red Fort.
As promised the tout had purchased my bus ticket. "I am sorry that I could
not get an express non-stop bus to Delhi" he said. "I was able to get a
tourist bus that visits Vrindavan and Mathura en route to Delhi." I wasn't
dismayed by this. I was, in fact, quite thrilled that I would be able to see
these two additional destinations.
Vrindavan is a town in the Mathura district of Uttar Pradesh, India. It is
the site of an ancient forest which is the region where Lord Krishna spent
his childhood days. The town is about 15 km away from Mathura, the city of
Lord Krishna's birthplace, near the Agra-Delhi highway. (Lord Krishna is a
deity worshipped across many traditions in Hinduism in a variety of
perspectives. While some recognize Krishna as an avatar of
Vishnu,
others consider him to be the Supreme Being.)
The bus was late in arriving and we left Agra several hours behind schedule.
We reached Mathura quite late; it must have been at least 11 pm. Many people
were sleeping and the tour guide's request to disembark met with little
enthusiasm. A small of band of people, me included, got off the bus and
marched to the temple through deserted streets. The tour guide kept loudly chanting "Sri Krishnaji
ki jai" (Praise Lord Krishna) and we soon joined in the chorus.
At the gates of the temple the tour guide stopped and turned around to face
us.
"All of you who are here today are the chosen ones. Today is Lord Krishna's
mother's birthday and none of you are here by accident. The Lord has
specifically called you here."
Suddenly everything fell into place. None of what had happened to me had
been random. It was my destiny that had pulled me here today.
Prakash
Subbarao |
About Prakash |
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13 June2010
