Close encounter of the third kind!

“Wash your hands, clean your feet, don’t touch your face, eye, mouth…. maintain social distance…stay far, keep safe…blah, blah, blah”; through day and night, only recurring prescriptions roam around with precise surveillance. The distress landed with no visible source, but fleeing from is far more challenging for rules coming up, shaping up, eating up and controlling the mind and soul. The freedom tricks are being advertised…how to sanitize hands, face, shoes, clothes…. mind, sorry sorry, nothing about mind so far. And, twenty-one days of lockdown has been promulgated to keep us safe and who knows who others. Shut your wings, clip it tight, stay inside, don’t sneeze, don’t let yourself at anyone’s breathing length, don’t come in touch with anyone, except pain and pleasure.

The rooftop is my favourite space. The dawn breaks over my orchard, birds flock around and fly from one branch to another, one tree to the other. Their sweet tune inspires the sun to rise. This is the most precious time in a day…the peace, the feeling of being in it pervades. What a blissful moment! And, I like the company of a stretched arm of the giant mango tree, my childhood friend, stooping over the roof. I rest upon it. I feel our breath and air mingling in the freshness of a gentle morn. Neither the infection nor the dread of it has yet to infect me in a way so feared.

Arey! What’s that? Staring straight at me. Camera still in my hand. As I set the lens on it, ho-ho, as if realizing the portrait being shot, it creeps closer almost to my lap. I can see now distinctly. Like a tiny ball adorned with thorns all around. Looks so familiar, yet cannot recall where I have seen it. Smiling face as if bullying me, “What happened? Click my photo.” Once setting it on focus, I instantaneously recognize. Arey, it’s corona! I am in awe; about to burst into tears. No, no, don’t cry, Lopa! Weeping results in catching cold…then sneezing…and then…. then…. I simple forget to cry in sheer panic choking my throat….my eyes. Hastily, I look for the sanitizer. Spray abundantly upon my frozen palms. Start rubbing it in complete showing off as if I have nothing to fear; the trepidations erasing the confidence inside although. Seeing my vigorous rubbing of palms, it jumps to a little far and whispers, “Scaring me? I am none but your well-wisher, am I not?”

“Is it so”, I almost mutedly utter, “See, what hell the fear has done to the world? Don’t you feel ashamed of your being and deeds? So many people have died and never know how many more await death!”

It again comes closer and asks me point blank, “You fear death too much, isn’t it true?”

“Yes, I fear it surely, tell me, who doesn’t. Don’t you?”

It chuckles briefly and says, “No, I don’t. We are immortal. None is so mighty in the world that can destroy us. Our death as you perceive is only when we sleep—in our latency. Listen, dear! Can I have some water, please?”

As soon as it concludes the request, it rolls down toward my water bottle.

“What are you doing? Don’t touch it, please.”

It looks so dry and pale. It again whispers, “Okay, can you allow me to sit here? Feeling too tired, dear.”

“Alright, stay a yard apart!”

It seems quite pleased. It sits upon the lone Petunia flower, the last of the season. Perhaps, a droplet of morning dew still dangles on its petal. It remains seated silently for a while. I continue to sanitize my hands and face for several times. Uh! Corona is just seated in front of me; calmly gazing at me.

“What have been saying?”, taking cue of the earlier one, it resurrects the conversations in a wilful question.

“Was just asking what makes you scare the world so shamelessly. The world has so many problems.”

“Hey, you yourself have spilled the beans. Look, when you kill your brothers and sisters in conflict of faith, caste, nation and even in name of patriotism, do you bear any remorse in your soul for that? Now, you are taking our name too; setting your trumpets loudest, you are screaming…. corona is the killer…it is responsible for deaths all around. When you do mischief, why do you hide it so craftily?”

What it says? How come it knows all such naked truths of mankind? Seeing me stunned, it continues to speak, now a little louder, “Should I bare the truth?”

I stop impatiently and say, “Listen, listen! Don’t like mud-slanging in such an elegant dawn. Don’t spoil the sacred moments when I can take the names of the gods.”

“Okay, okay, it fairly good. Trust me, listen the tales of the gods then. Look, you, the mortals! The Lord created all of you. He created all mortals too. But, still repents what a disaster was to create mankind. Fortunately, you are mortal, else what would have happened to the Lord! Another thing pricks me, why do you fear death so much? For a mortal being, one has to die, today or tomorrow, isn’t it? See, all other living beings accept the life as it is; they live merrily and leave merrily when turn comes. More so, what grace you do to the world by living a little longer? Can’t you perceive truly, how pervasively you have ravaged the beautiful expanse of creations—the nursery of love and delight. In your relentless excruciating misdeeds, the Lord even fails to keep the stability in the creative whole.”

“What’s in it?”

“Can’t you understand? It’s a pure and simple thing. Your soul has journeyed through millions of lives through uncountable ages to attain purity in reaching you. It has sharpened the consciousness and aligned to virtues through lives, where it has dwelt in. It will again travel back following the outcome of the deeds. The death has to occur to keep the coming and going, ascending and descending of souls from one layer to another. If the death is inevitable, a crude certainty, why should you delay its natural flow? The entire cycle of creations has been stalled for deaths not coming from your world on time. Is it a fair game?”

“What all nonsense you are telling?”

“Nothing nonsense, dear. The Lord himself has said it. We heard it through our own ears.”

“Is it so? Stop fancying! Whom did the Lord tell all these?”

“He told his commandants. He created us immortal in ecstatic pleasure of creation. We are His wishes, dreams and deeds. We all reside in His abode; do His household work. Only in springtime, when the Earth creeps out of the wintry veil and drapes herself in colourful attire, we cannot resist us from being enamoured of her immaculate beauty. We get a month’s leave to be here, every year.”

Its childish dialogue makes me laugh, although softly, and I say, “Fine, dear, but your long absence must have caused Him quite inconveniences and loneliness too, no? Who works for Him when you all are away?”

So many! Draught is there, flood is there too; cyclone, hurricane, tornado all are there, many more are there to take care of Him. Everyone is available and does its duty. Once in a year each get leave to spend a few days here in earth. Understand?”

I truly understand now what it says. Oh! Forget to clean my hands for long! Who knows what happens from nowhere? After comforting the panic with smell of sanitizer, I start again the conversation.

“Okay, what’s the plan in this vacation? To kill us silently?”

“No, no; have just come to spend some pleasurable moments here on this ever-pretty earth. What ill reputation you have ascribed to us for choosing it to be holidaying? Is it fair enough to do so with guests?”, voice has almost choked while it concludes a long dialogue. Perhaps, a few droplets of water ooze out of the tips of those slender thorns. After a brief pause, it starts again, “A few years back, one of my elder brothers narrated me that people here had no faith in the Lord”

I retort, “Why so? Everyday we perform Pujas, go for fasting, pray and chant; do it all mean nothing?”

It takes on quickly, “Have you not gone to any temple? People have put a stone there and say it is their god. That god has lots of money, gold, silver and what not! Everyone offers him money and expects his blessings will usher in wealth in no time. The gods in those temples love those who are opulent and listen to only their opinions and appeals. Neither rich people nor their gods think about poor people. Tell me, what do those stones, sorry gods, do with money and wealth?”

A critical question indeed, it also wanders in the cells of my soul. To steer away from such uncomfortable query, I raise a new topic to continue, “Okay, what have you seen here on earth this time?”

“So much! Have plunged into the deepest depth of the sea; everyone gathered, some danced around me, those beautiful fishes, some enormous creatures—some even were about to guzzle. In euphoric spree, they bathed me in blue waters bubbling out of those colourful fountains. Some were scared too for the thorns I bear. Elders asked me where I had come from. One giant fish carried me to the shore. I could see that dense forest, huge trees, vibrantly adorned with so many unknown beautiful flowers. They invited me to be with them, fed me and comforted me to relax. I moved on and saw huge elephants with some new-borns, in leisurely mood, over the vast pasture, tigers, lions, untamed horses; so many other beasts too. None took any notice of me. Once I crossed the jungle. Then crossed the snowy mountains. Then reached a small town having fair number of people. A few initial days were fine. Then I don’t know what happed. They started calling me “Corona” and whispers of my name travelled alleyways of human life. Everyone began to believe and tell that one gets infected with a fatal disease once I touch. Why did you do so to me? It pained me a lot for what had ensued thereafter. I saw people mercilessly beating others, who had to walk back home after losing work and piece of sustenance. When you die of a disease it causes distress, but doesn’t it pain you when you kill another for no reason; don’t your hands tremble in committing a sin, doesn’t you heart break in seeing a crime in naked eye? We all live in harmony, none is more equal than others, together we work and play; we never cause pain to others. Then, I heard, all had been confined to home to prevent from my touching anyone. I couldn’t resist bursting into laughter even encountering such a disgraceful infamy attributed to me. I thought, you could flee from me, but how could you escape the inevitable onslaught of the diseases that you had infected yourself with for so long? In midst of all such deadly infections, why are you scared from a tiny one like me? I also heard, you have numerous gods, some to protect you from measles and pox; why is such a complexity in creating so many gods when the Lord is one? What tempts you to see the Lord riven up in many gods, with no purpose except to take care of those who feed them? The Lord—the Supreme Creator—always thinks how to take care of His creations, but your gods only dream to usurp His chair befooling you all! Like you they also don’t have faith in the Lord, they don’t bear any love for the creative world.”

“Oh ho! Why are you advancing towards me? That’s a nice place, sit there!”, I mutter in a scared tone. Quickly, I pour sanitizer upon my shaken palms and start rubbing vigorously.

It continues, “I don’t want to return with so much of disrepute. How can I explain the Lord that His own creations do not carry any faith in Him? How can I bear the pain in telling Him that the mankind is being ruled by an inanimate entity availing all dubious means of greed and retribution? I should die, a death that I only control to happen. I should die, dear!”

“Arey? Please don’t move closer!”, I frantically direct. “Look!”, I say while rubbing sanitizer in intense fright.

Without allowing any chance to recoil, it takes a sudden jump and lands straight upon my right palm. Sweetly, smilingly, although saddened deeply with agony in experiencing both the strong reaction of sanitizer and what it has learnt about mankind during its sojourn to the earth, it declares, “I shall die. I need to die, my friend!”

Upon the flowing smoothness of sanitizer, it drowns and shrinks in pain. In harshness of alcohol, it shrinks, crumbles. Tears fill my eyes; why I don’t know.

It leaves silently while telling a simple truth; to attain a greater cause, offering life is more important than saving it.