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Session…..
I am less than 10 years old, all
alone, scared and looking down at water. The sky is overcast with Dark clouds.
I go in a house. A lady with her head covered is sitting and grinding wheels. She
is my mother. There are fields around home. I am playing in front of home.
Few men are fighting. They have
swords. My mother is holding me tightly. A man’s stomach is pierced with the
sword. He starts bleeding. He is my father. He fell to ground. I think he is
dead. All the men leave. My mother tells me something. A lot of turbaned people
wearing white dress came for cremation. I lit his funeral pyre. Mother is crying
and ladies consoling her. I am hungry, there is nothing to eat. Someone brought
food. My mother gives me bath and then gave me food to eat.
Now I am 20 year young man and a lot
of young boys are with me. Fields are green. There is a big pillared gate at
the entry to village. There is a Mela, a festival, being celebrated. There is Merry
go round, bangle shops and lot of people.
I am 40, sitting under a tree, a
lot of people are gathered around me. Everyone is looking at me. People ask me
to settle the dispute and give judgement. A woman is crying because of the
fight with her husband. Two boys fought over land. People accept my advice and judgement.
I am riding horse, wearing white
clothes, going to another village along with many other people. We all carry swords.
Here also a lot of people, gathered under the tree, are waiting for me. They
look for answers to their disputes. It feels good that I am able to help them.
My mother is old, have grey hair.
I did not marry. I am 50. There is a fight going on. I am the leader. Everyone
is looking at me. Villagers from villages I visit, join us in the fight to
defend. We are a 500 men army. I am also fighting. We are dressed in white and
the other party is in blue dress. They attacked us we are defending ourselves. They
are killing our people. A lot of people die and there is a lot of blood on
ground. A lot of fighting is taking place. It seems we have won as attackers
are running away. We captured some guns from them. I am injured on the back. It is night and people keep surveillance with
the help of fire torches. Next day mass
funeral pyres are lit.
A lot of men died. I am arranging
livelihood for the women and children of the dead. Now things are peaceful. It
seems my village is somewhere near Attari. I am getting old. I am at home most
of the time. My mother is no more. I am alone. Lots of people come with
problems. There is a black marble plate at the gate of my home, “Roop Hazara”
is written in Punjabi on it. I am now 90
years. I slept in the night and did not wake up again. Thousands of people came.
They are carrying me. Everybody is crying. Local priest lit my funeral pyre.
The “Roop Hazara” house is now a monument for them. I was very satisfied with
my life. Guided towards light, he received ample guidance for his present life.
Lesson learnt… Service to others is very
satisfactory