The flowers hung down from the branches as if trumpets directed at the earth from the heavens अबोवे। The soft, seductive scent floating in the air was drawing me towards the flowers like a magnet. As I walked the pathway and brushed my nose in the flowers to take a whiff, the fragrance was almost intoxicating. That evening my sense of smell was highly receptive and I was glued to that hallucinating smell. Thoughtless, I walked as if I was possessed.
And there a conversation began:
I: Angel (to the Angel’s Trumpet), you are so beautiful, and your smell is so sweet…
Angel: Thank You! So, you are not aware?
I: Of what? I asked.
Angel: Tell me exactly, how you feel?
I: I am in wonderment and this feels like heaven.
Angel: How do you know what heaven looks like?
I: I am assuming….
Angel: So, you like to be in your dream world?
I: Yes, who doesn’t like to be… (here I picked one of the fallen flowers to smell again)
Angel: So, you love flowers?
I: Ok, so I’m not the one who would love to receive flowers or give flowers but yes in their natural state like the way you are here, I just can’t take my eyes off you…
Angel: Don’t you feel this is an illusion?
I: Why do you say that? I can feel, it’s real…
Angel: Well, see you in the morning…
I: See you!
The next morning as I walked out to relive the experience, it took me by surprise that I did not feel the same. My emotions had changed. Now, I was curious. I brushed my nose in the flowers once again to smell the fragrance. The smell was not the same. The question stayed alive in me while we started the Manthan within.
With each passing day the ambience was changing as the nature changed its course. And my curiosity deepened. One fine morning as we walked towards the dining area for breakfast talking about the melancholy of nature on that particular day, my question was answered.
The Angel’s Trumpet is known for its intoxicating night fragrance and more so of its poison. It blooms being absolutely aware of its poison. And yes, it doesn’t go away from its nature to bloom, bringing a sense of wonderment, to fall and then bloom again.
This Manthan and beyond, was no less for me. The poison was surfacing of which I was completely unaware of. Could I accept my poison and fall and bloom again? Well, each passing day will tell my story…
Until then, I just wish to stay with the prayer:
मुक्त करदे हे प्रभु
तू मुझे मेरे ही अभिशाप से
रो रही है चेतना मेरी अनंत काल से
एक बार और मृत्यु इस जीवन में हो जाएगी मेरी
करम मेरे यह ना कहे
एक मौक़ा और दे प्रभु।।