The Ravan Soliloquy Sigh. It is a mighty pain standing in a thousand places at once from morning to evening. I wonder how these Gods do it, and they have to do it in a million places or so throughout the year. But then they do not face the prospect of getting burned in the evening, so they have that going for them. I do not appreciate the company that I am in, though it is my family. Meghnad still seethes in anger like a young boy over slights caused in a different time, a different world. He doesn’t really realize the situation and keeps on telling me that he should be given one more chance to take revenge. What he does not know is that there are no more Ram and Laxman to wreck vengeance on. It is mostly make-believe actors these days, as there are make-believe Ravan and Meghnads and Kumbhkaran too. Which brings me to my other compatriot, my blood brother : Kumbhkaran. The loyal one. Not the one who brought my house down and left me for dead. And much as I love him and the pains he took for me (waking up before his assured hour), he too does not provide me with a delightful company. He sleeps throughout the day, only to awaken when they light the fuse, and then too he just mutters ‘Oh, not this again.’ Then he promptly goes back to sleep, unmindful of the fires. I envy his calmness. And I try to imitate it. But then there is much that angers me, not in the same way the things that anger my son (Lord Shiv bless his soul). For starters, because these people make my statue so tall and give me a good vantage point I clearly see that there are other worthier candidates who deserve to be burned. And yet they roam freely, even worse is the fact that because of their vices they are compared to me. Why me? I did not commit half the crimes these idiots do on a daily basis. And then they symbolize evils with me : Gareebi ka Ravan. Seriously? Gareebi ka Ravan? Lanka (before the gentle-monkey burned it down) was literally called Sone ki Lanka, and it wasn’t because of Kumbhkaran. Don’t attribute the evil of poverty to me, no one in Lanka was poor. If the two faced leaders here had a government half as good as what I had in Lanka they would be thanking me instead of burning me. The other things that anger me are the dwindling crowds at the scene of my yearly demise. This country, apart from producing Gods has produced enough humans to last the entire world a lifetime, and yet these days many don’t seem to have the time to spare for the funeral of a king. I demand the respect of being burned in a blaze of glory in front of more people than this. I am a king, I deserve a better crowd. Unfortunately there is little I can do apart from simmer with quiet rage until an external fire stokes it and leaves me in pieces, waiting to be reconstructed next year with fresh material (and the hope of a big sword and shield, and ten decently proportionate heads). For anyone here able to read or listen to this I have similar words of advice which Ram wanted me to give to his hot headed brother Laxman : There are better things to do than procrastinating or taking the easy way. Good things will come only from hard work, I personally was working on a project for turning the sea water potable and I got distracted with abducting Sita and the war after that (maybe next year I will tell you more about my side of the story of that). So all you need to do is follow what sounds an as-boring-as-Ram advice, you can realize your dreams by breaking your back. There is no escape from parishram. As you humans tell each other on my annual demise, I leave you with a Happy Dussera.
Posted on: Fri, 03 Oct 2014 08:27:14 +0000
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