Somesh’s life took a turn for the worse in the first wave of the pandemic. As a designer, he ran a chain of boutiques in high end malls in 2 cities. With the restrictions, his boutiques were bolted shut with inventory piled up and orders frozen.
As luck would have it, his parents and younger brother were infected and hospitalized. His brother could not make it, while his parents were in ICU for three weeks. Income loss at one end and crippling medical bills on the other left him struggling with finances. As the first wave petered out, local shops and businesses resumed, but lockdown restrictions were harsh on malls further twisting the hand of fate for Somesh.
Somesh tried his best to keep the family safe and provide for them with his savings. He kept his mind engrossed by trying to learn new things, read books or chat with colleagues. But occasionally, the anxities and fears got the best of him and he drowned himself in binge drinking to quieten his mind. His health soon started dipping.
One evening, around the time of the second wave ( about an year since his brother passed away ), he was cuddling his 8 year old daughter-Anvi as they tried to sleep at night. She had a habit of telling her dad interesting things she learnt during the day.
As she snuggled into his arms, Somesh struggled to be awake to listen to her. He had a drink too much that evening and sleep was beckoning him. She narrated a story about Devdatta which she heard in the Satsang her grandmom dragged her every Friday evening. Somesh groaned slightly as he wondered about the archaic story that Anvi will now narrate to him.
“…this is a story from Agnipuran. Once upon a time, an enraged Lord Indra cursed that there would be no rain for 12 years on earth. Worried for their lives, the people prayed and begged Him for a way out. He thundered that only if Lord Shiva plays his dumroo/drum - will there be rain before 12 years are over.
And before the harried people reached Mt. Kailash, Lord Indra beseeched Lord Shiva to ignore them. Saddened, the people resigned themselves to this cruel fate for 12 years.
Devdatta, a farmer, however, decided to continue his farming activities as-is - ploughing, sowing, harvesting, reaping. At first, the other laughed and mocked him for his naivette. As weeks turned to months, a few began wondering and observing his actions.
Devdatta was steadfast in his efforts and the word soon spread to the King of the land. He rode down to the farm and keenly noticed Devdatta’s dedication. After couple of days, the King asked Devdatta - “ Why are you doing this, knowing fully well that rain will not come for another 12 years?”
Devdatta smiled and said, “Yes, I know that. But what if I dont do anything and in 12 years I forget my farming skills? When the rains do come, should I not be ready ?”
The king was mightily impressed by Devdatta and awarded him a bag of gold coins. Soon, this story reached Mt Kailas and Goddess Parvati enquired of Lord Shiva - “ What if you too forget how to play the drum/dumroo in 12 years? Should you also not practice it?”
Lord Shiva, also known as Bholenath ( the naive one ), felt anxious and played his drum. Within minutes, raindrops fell on earth breaking the curse. As the water soaked into the soil, it nourished the seeds and in days the first sprouts came out.
Only Devdatta had sown the seeds and curated the soil and so only his farm had produce in few months. The whole village which once mocked him now turned to him for food and within weeks, he became richer than the King of the land….”
Both Anvi and Somesh almost dozed off as she finished the story. At crack of dawn, Somesh’s eyes opened as his mind played back the story to him. In the wee hours of morning, as the first rays of the sun peered through the sky, a ray of hope flickered in his heart.
Like Devdatta, he had to keep doing what he was good at, to whatever extent the situation allowed him. He had to keep sharpening his skills- learning new ones and unlearning the old ones. He had to sow the seeds for the future, hoping it would rain someday. For when it would rain, if there were no seeds, no curated soil - all the water would be in vain.
He softly kissed Anvi on her forehead and got off the bed to a new start. There was spring in his step and hope in his heart. A new normal awaited him.