So cool, so calm, so serene ...

It was quite cold in there. Chilly! She couldn’t stand the cold. But everyone told me it doesn’t matter as she is no more. But she was very much there. Wasn’t moving. Wasn’t breathing. But yes, she was very much there.

Then she had to be taken away. How ruthlessly were her remains made to vanish from physical existence! Dust to dust ... ashes to ashes. How she burnt! How hot it had become! Everyone told me to look away. But I couldn’t. The fire from the funeral pyre was devouring her and I wanted to see the monster clearly. But my eyes hurt. And my skin burnt. Oh how hot it was!

We came back. Had a bath. Performed the rituals. But the somehow the heat wouldn’t go away. I bathed myself twice ... thrice ... I lost count. Yet the heat wouldn’t go away. Everyone was being very kind to me. Offered me advice. “Have something cold to eat and drink”. So I went to the ice cream parlour. Asked for the coldest ice cream ever. He stared at me oddly but scooped out some anyway. I was eager to know what kept it so cool. A freezer! But it was very hot to touch at! How could I expect it to cool me if it was so hot on its own? I left the ice cream and the parlour.

I had turned restless. The heat inside me was slowly eating me away. I had to cool myself or else I was afraid I too would burn away like her. Then one fateful night I happened to see the moon. The full moon! The full glorious moon! It was so calm, so cool, so serene ... no fire, no heat could touch it. I had to have the moon! Yes! If the mere sight of it could soothe my eyes then imagine what it could do to my body, my mind, my soul. How badly I wanted to touch it!

I asked the people around me as to how could I touch the moon. Mostly I was stared down upon. Few sympathised. I don’t know why. Then one kind soul guided me very lovingly. “The moon is high up, very high up! You too will have to go high up, very high up!”

I went to the topmost floor of a skyscraper. But the door to the terrace was locked. The security men stopped me from breaking it open. Why won’t they let me go?

“Why don’t you let me go?”

“Why do you want to go?”

“I want to jump and reach out to the moon.”

More security men were called and I was taken away. My family had been informed ... to keep an eye on me. Whatever for? Then one night I sneaked out of the house. Met a man - young of age and old of face. He searched my pockets for whatever that he wanted. They were empty. “Why do you roam in the middle of the night?” he asked. “I want to reach out to the moon but no one lets me. So I have run away and am looking for somewhere higher than a skyscraper” I said. “Go to the hills. They are higher than the skyscrapers of the city” he said.

So off I went to climb a hill. I met many people clothed in saffron robes. Atop the hill I saw a temple. Maybe there was a secret escalator in there that took people up to the moon? I went in. Saw a stone idol of a woman. A ferocious looking woman. Everyone was bowing down to her and was offering her coconuts and whatnots. I, empty of heart, hands and pockets, offered her nothing. Suddenly she spoke to me, “You cannot reach the moon from here, my child. You will have to go to a higher place. Go to the Himalayas. Go to the highest peak in the Himalayas.” I bowed down and thanked her profusely but she had turned into stone again.

So off I went to the Himalayas and up I went to the Mount Everest. On the way I met many. How many people must have wanted the moon ... But it was frightfully high. Many people turned around and climbed down. Well, they didn’t deserve the moon anyway. Finally I reached the summit. The top! And from here I could jump and reach the moon! “So you think that you can jump and reach the moon?” I looked around. An old monk, dressed in white robes and sitting on a white stone, had questioned me. I looked around. The place was strewn with corpses. They had gone blue but hadn’t gone off. The ice wouldn’t have let that happen. I turned to the monk, “Yes! I want the moon. For surely it will put the heat out that is burning within me.”

“They too tried. But failed. I advised them not to jump. But they never listened. And now look!” he said, pointing towards the corpses. And I looked sadly. The corpses were sad. Disappointed. “Then how do I reach out to the moon?”

“Look within yourself. Man unfortunately believes only what he sees. For him what is not visible simply does not exist.”

“How can such a big moon exist within me?”

“See, I knew you wouldn’t believe. When you look in the mirror do you see your heart, you lungs, your stomach? No. But does that mean they are not there? Look in the mirror. And you shall find what you seek”. I thought I could ignore him and jump for the moon ... but then I would probably become a corpse too. And if I became a corpse, I wouldn’t be able to do anything. Corpses rarely achieved anything. Some corpses achieved freedom from a painful life. Some people achieved peace when someone turned into a corpse. But by itself a corpse was pretty much useless.

“You think I should go back?”

But the monk wouldn’t answer. The corpses just stared. So I left. On my way down I saw many people climbing up. I could have warned them but I wasn’t a monk. So I let them be.

I reached down. Back to heat! Get rid of it. Moon! Get it. But how? I looked at the moon and cried. The tears rolled out. And then I cried some more. More tears rolled down my eyes and I collected them in a plate. I was told that tears are precious. Maybe I’ll sell them. But what about the moon? The monk had said, “Look in the mirror.” I went and looked in the mirror. Lifeless. Just stared back. Just reflected back ... reflected ... Oh yes! Reflected!

I quickly took the plate of tears out in the garden ... and caught the reflection of the moon in the plateful of tears. I had conquered! I had reached out to the moon! It was captured in my tears and I touched it. And finally the fire within me died... leaving me so cool, so calm, so serene.