Sakhi and Vishwa

(These two characters came to me recently..... I did not create them. In trying to imagine what they would do and where they would go, this little piece of story emerged.
    This is the kind of story that I LOVE to read! And truly enjoyed writing this sentimental piece...
There is some reality here, and a lot of imagination. But somebody said once, that there's no difference between the two!! What you imagine is happening somewhere, so it's real. And what you perceive as real...from a height, it is no more than imagination. So here it goes....)

 The river Bhagirathi flowed silently, as if unwilling to disturb the sacred, sombre atmosphere of the ashram. Morning was dawning, the mists lifting over the landscape, revealing a cluster of huts in the middle of a jungle clearing. There was an unusually hectic activity that day-- some running around engaged in various errands while some sitting in silence, trying to stifle a sorrow, a volley of tears, with a heavy heart.

Sage Kanva was gravely ill, after months and months of sickness and suffering!

Sakhi walked up the small hillock behind the ashram which overlooked the valley. Away from the crowds of the ashram, away from the heavy melancholic atmosphere. She wanted to get away from everything, sit somewhere quietly and weep. Burst her heart open in Nature’s lap and wail her sorrows away. Unable to do it in the ashram, where she was supposed to be the strong one! Yet incapable of bearing the heaviness that was building up within. She quickly strode to the top of the hillock and walked towards the lonely tree at the edge of the cliff. There she saw him!  He was sitting motionless on a stone slab under the tree, eyes open and transfixed at the rising Sun far away in the horizons!

‘Vishwa’, she called out gently. He turned, and quickly wiped away his tears. Their eyes met for a moment before he looked away.

Why are you weeping, you thug, you must be relieved now? She didn’t ask. But her expression betrayed her thoughts. Vishwa smiled and stood up, looking away at the distant clouds. Then he turned. “Sakhi…the monks from Tibet will be arriving any moment. And as per their custom, they’ll not spend two nights in the same place, so they’re departing tomorrow, at this hour….” He paused, drew in a long breath and said, “I’m going away with them.”

It seemed ages when she again opened her eyes, and saw Vishwa bending over her, gently caressing her locks. She was lying on the ground, her head on his lap. ‘What happened?’ she mumbled. “You collapsed,” he said, “when I mentioned about the Tibetan monks. Are you not well?”

The total force of the situation blew through her and she wept inconsolably. Tibetan monks! They arrive when the head of the ashram leaves the body! What does it mean? Maharshi Kanva….? And this fool wants to go away with them, leaving me alone? She buried her face in her palms and sobbed…grief tearing away her feeble heart. The grief of the impending departure of a father figure. And the very thought of separation from...

A distant gong struck, breaking the veil of sorrow that had descended on top of that small hillock. It was a signal that the monks had arrived. Although all arrangements had been done to receive and accommodate them, Vishwa had to be at the ashram, to oversee the activities for the rest of the day. They stood up and he wiped her moist eyes with a piece of cloth.

“Why do you want to go with them?” she implored, almost begging him not to, her voice choking. His face was grave, expressionless! He turned and began walking down in silence, Sakhi following him. A cool breeze blew from the valley below, as if trying to caress, comfort and soothe her. They reached the flower garden and were about to turn towards Kanva's ashram when she abruptly held his hand and stood facing him.

“Answer me,” her voice shook but she was determined.

He looked deep into her soft blue eyes, which were filling up rapidly. Holding back his tears he said, “Because…… that’s my destiny.” And gently shook her hands off and walked towards the waiting ashram.