Ahalya

by Koral Dasgupta

‘A mother is another name for unyielding, aggressive power. She is the embodiment of indulgence and restraint. She is the keeper, the protector. She restricts to keep all harm away. She beholds the baby with her softness, yet forms a tough cast around it to keep intruders at bay. She is the first teacher starting the learning process in confinement, by sharing the system of body and life even before the baby is born. She is the form of knowledge that results from reflex.’

‘Father’s knowledge results from experience. The father is the risk-taker. He is the more tranquil form of power. He seeks perfection in his child while the mother finds perfection in her child.

Hasn’t the world always attended with vengeance to every form of creativity that is beyond one’s comprehension?

‘You are a woman already,’ I heard the Creator speak. ‘A seeker of truth. A follower of the divine. And a victim of her own intimidating strength. After your birthing is complete you will also soon learn the skills of a manipulator who attempts to encrust the reality in a shield of affection and beauty.’ Brahma smiled again.

‘Ahalya, meaning, the unploughed, the unaffected, the untouched. The one who is pure. The one who doesn’t carry any baggage from her earlier births. Who isn’t followed by karma, who can’t be tamed by destiny. The one whose sanctity can be altered by none.’

‘Everyone is born perfect,’ Brahma advised. ‘They pick up the imperfections along the course of life.’

You are free now, my child. Go fly, love, learn. Acquire wisdom and apply it. In pain and happiness, remember that nothing is absolute. Neither will last. Only you will, till the end of your time. Make the most of that.’

Such is the voice of a teacher. It seeps into the mind through unseen pores and inspires intelligence. It forces you to think, observe, learn and discuss, to outgrow the dimensions of your shadow by walking towards a brighter light.

‘External beauty is an illusion that captivates the human brain. You start thinking that an object of beauty is imperishable, invincible. The truth is there’s nothing more vulnerable than beauty as it falls to the slightest provocation. It falls from its rank when something more beautiful stands before it. It falls from its confidence the moment it is described using tangible parameters. It falls from grace as time erodes its surface. Beauty isn’t worthy of trust. Yet human mind is such that it chooses the beauty that appeals to the eyes over the strength that appeals to the heart.’

‘Mother is the force that transforms energy. She is the steady host for the fidgety structureless future. She is the dream and also the destiny. She is the reason and the consequence. When water falls on the rock it serves none. But the same water stored in a container quenches thirst, it washes and it cleans too. The mother is that container who offers the holy base for the father to liberate himself of his overwhelming burden. She takes upon herself the load of a lifetime, birthing a new life, and sharing with it her intellectual and metabolic strength. She is the Creator who can confront Brahma. She is the Sustainer who can challenge Vishnu. And she is the Destroyer who can foresee such evils that Shiva may not.’