Sacrifice
As a rule i act on instinct and write my blogs unplanned and untimely .Its 5:55 am on the clock , i think i should hav waited fer another 1 hr 11 mins then i cud hav atleast written abt the omens.Lately i have reduced orkutting ... its such a waste of time anyways.
so i should make it a "burn-blog" and i should whine , complain and cry.naah too childish i ll leave it to "Mr.-Baffling-from-IIT-Kgp" to do this.[Sarcasm happens to be my fav form of humor ,but all in a sporting spirit ;)]
* the blog was initiated a long time back so a few things said above do not hold any ground today ... i ll leave it to the readers discretion to see wat these things are
Once upon a time there was a child about 6 yrs old, he studied in delhi and went to his native village fer vacations.The occasion was Durga Puja , a nine day marathon religious affair fer maithil brahmins which culminates in a sacrifice.
The Sacrifice is not quiet what god had asked fer, nobody sacrifices their ego,their evil thoughts or their unreligious conduct. What do they sacrifice then?... a small harmless goat(i thought of writing "kid" but knowing its contemprory usage it would have provoked too much horror.)
So according to the customs the "kid" was bought on the first day of puja and this jobless child was given the charge of taking care of the animal. He was a responsible chap(after all this chap had to become a vice head boy and a core team member someday) also he couldnt really fit in with children of his age around him.He and this animal became great friends.He grew concerned with its health. It was just too thin. So proper care was taken and the normal "green grass diet" was complemented with chapatis and milk directly lifted from the boys meal. He was never intrested in food anyways ,he was very happy to share with friend. They ran together in streets of the village. Sometimes he would hold its horns with both his hands and push him...and when this little friend of his resisted he felt so happy fer the sheer sense of power that it gave him .He was always cautious though never to hurt his friend. They went to his mango gardens. He owned so many mango trees and knew exactly where each one was.He felt so proud and rich and yes he was smart.He would sit under the mango trees and watch his friend grazing in the fields. Sometimes he felt a little sad becoz there were no mangoes to eat but overall he was satisfied and happy .
Eight days just flew away.That morning when he woke he felt a little strange.You see there was no one around him the entire terrace was empty.Not even the stupid children who do nothing but play from the moment that they wake up.At least his grandmother should have been there she knows he likes his milk in his bed. He thought he should just lie there and wait fer someone to come to take him so that he could throw his tantrums get something out of them.He could ask them fer bread yes it seemed like a bright idea , he hadn't had bread eversince he came to this village.Something was not right he felt a little scared and decided against his initial plan.
So down he went ,as he was climbing down the stairs he noticed.. that there was too many ppl in front of there temple .He must have overslept ,he thought ,it must have been the time for aarti .There was something wrong but he cudnt figure out exactly wat it was .Right then he heard his goat cry.Wat happened?Dint anyone had the courtesy to feed the poor goat.While stil engrossed in this thought ..he descended another step and as he turned around he witnessed a site so gory that 14 yrs down the line he ll be able to recall the incident as if it happened yesterday...
He saw the goat,who was practically the only frnd he had in this village,saw runing out of the temple ..with blood pouring out of his neck becoz guess wat..there was no head to stop the blood while his head kept in the temple was still making noises that resempled crying.It must have been only a few moments but fer him it ran frame by frame...the goat running out of temple ,just randomly running into the verandah,his preist uncle following the goat catching him,and holding him as if it was being a permission to die...and so it did .It died, right in front the little boys eyes.So this dead part of the goat was taken into the temple again where they ll take a sample of its blood and offer it to the goddess...who doesnt nodd by the way and as soon as she accepts it, they ll bring out blood in a small bowl and all the (stupid) children of the house will make a bee queue to the obtain a mesh of cut fruits called prashad and a sign of their victory over a dead animal on their forehead.It then came to his notice that he was crying out loud while his mother was holding him tight.He was crying wat else was he supposed to do ?? Wat else was he supposed to do ..it was a sacrifice.
What is the moral of the story ? ....well what is???
so i should make it a "burn-blog" and i should whine , complain and cry.naah too childish i ll leave it to "Mr.-Baffling-from-IIT-Kgp" to do this.[Sarcasm happens to be my fav form of humor ,but all in a sporting spirit ;)]
* the blog was initiated a long time back so a few things said above do not hold any ground today ... i ll leave it to the readers discretion to see wat these things are
Once upon a time there was a child about 6 yrs old, he studied in delhi and went to his native village fer vacations.The occasion was Durga Puja , a nine day marathon religious affair fer maithil brahmins which culminates in a sacrifice.
The Sacrifice is not quiet what god had asked fer, nobody sacrifices their ego,their evil thoughts or their unreligious conduct. What do they sacrifice then?... a small harmless goat(i thought of writing "kid" but knowing its contemprory usage it would have provoked too much horror.)
So according to the customs the "kid" was bought on the first day of puja and this jobless child was given the charge of taking care of the animal. He was a responsible chap(after all this chap had to become a vice head boy and a core team member someday) also he couldnt really fit in with children of his age around him.He and this animal became great friends.He grew concerned with its health. It was just too thin. So proper care was taken and the normal "green grass diet" was complemented with chapatis and milk directly lifted from the boys meal. He was never intrested in food anyways ,he was very happy to share with friend. They ran together in streets of the village. Sometimes he would hold its horns with both his hands and push him...and when this little friend of his resisted he felt so happy fer the sheer sense of power that it gave him .He was always cautious though never to hurt his friend. They went to his mango gardens. He owned so many mango trees and knew exactly where each one was.He felt so proud and rich and yes he was smart.He would sit under the mango trees and watch his friend grazing in the fields. Sometimes he felt a little sad becoz there were no mangoes to eat but overall he was satisfied and happy .
Eight days just flew away.That morning when he woke he felt a little strange.You see there was no one around him the entire terrace was empty.Not even the stupid children who do nothing but play from the moment that they wake up.At least his grandmother should have been there she knows he likes his milk in his bed. He thought he should just lie there and wait fer someone to come to take him so that he could throw his tantrums get something out of them.He could ask them fer bread yes it seemed like a bright idea , he hadn't had bread eversince he came to this village.Something was not right he felt a little scared and decided against his initial plan.
So down he went ,as he was climbing down the stairs he noticed.. that there was too many ppl in front of there temple .He must have overslept ,he thought ,it must have been the time for aarti .There was something wrong but he cudnt figure out exactly wat it was .Right then he heard his goat cry.Wat happened?Dint anyone had the courtesy to feed the poor goat.While stil engrossed in this thought ..he descended another step and as he turned around he witnessed a site so gory that 14 yrs down the line he ll be able to recall the incident as if it happened yesterday...
He saw the goat,who was practically the only frnd he had in this village,saw runing out of the temple ..with blood pouring out of his neck becoz guess wat..there was no head to stop the blood while his head kept in the temple was still making noises that resempled crying.It must have been only a few moments but fer him it ran frame by frame...the goat running out of temple ,just randomly running into the verandah,his preist uncle following the goat catching him,and holding him as if it was being a permission to die...and so it did .It died, right in front the little boys eyes.So this dead part of the goat was taken into the temple again where they ll take a sample of its blood and offer it to the goddess...who doesnt nodd by the way and as soon as she accepts it, they ll bring out blood in a small bowl and all the (stupid) children of the house will make a bee queue to the obtain a mesh of cut fruits called prashad and a sign of their victory over a dead animal on their forehead.It then came to his notice that he was crying out loud while his mother was holding him tight.He was crying wat else was he supposed to do ?? Wat else was he supposed to do ..it was a sacrifice.
What is the moral of the story ? ....well what is???
posted by zack at
4:12 PM
1 Comments:
dont attach urself to things... thats the moral... n dont think its kiddish...just weird!!
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