RIFLE RANGE BOY: They think they have everything under control!

Kala Bhairava

The slayer of Time with a dog as his
companion. Hence, dogs are given
due reverence.

Maybe the nihilistic part of me cannot stomach all these. My athymic insides cannot stomach the idea that someone can be so cocksure about everything. I have come to understand that Time and Tide wait for no man and that Time is the greatest killer of Man. Time flies; Man's hopes go! No Man has yet to win over Time; Shiva, a wandering seeker, is the exception and was conferred the title 'Kala Bhairava' - the conquerer of Time.

I just cannot fathom how a group of people are forever pleased with themselves, knowing very well that they have covered all the potential glitches in life. They act as if they have in their possession a crystal ball through which they have a clear view of what lies in front of them in life's journey of uncertainty.

They have the acquaintance of an experienced seer. Using ancient astrological knowledge, he can precisely point out times they must be careful. He carefully calculates pockets when the planetary positions are not in their favour. Bad events, he asserts, can be averted through rituals that can appease negative energies.

If that is not enough, they want to know their karmic baggage from their previous births that could potentially derail their blissful time on Earth. Fear not! There is indeed a specially pre-ordained palm leaf in a specific village for every living soul on Earth. It is a genealogical account complete with past karmic brownies and demerit points. Again corrective rituals can be instituted here to keep maladies at bay.

Maybe one can take a walk in the lonely pathways of holy towns in India. Chances are that he can have a chance encounter with someone who is his long-lost soul from a previous life with a score to settle. A little exchange of wealth in current life should suffice.

Being born in the Hindu diaspora is viewed as a boon as they have avenues for release from the unrelenting life cycle in their armamentarium. In their own way, they feel that they are indeed Universe's chosen ones. Is it not funny that everyone carries the aura of grandiosity and as being the point of reference? Even in their previous lives, they thought they were someone of importance who had changed the world. Statistical odds suggest a nobody, a peasant with a short meaningless life or even a dead neonate!

Come what may, there is nothing lots of money cannot reverse. With a bottomless pit of moolah at one's disposal, unexpected medical emergencies or misadventures are just a medical bill away. There is nothing preventive medicine cannot preclude.

While I tread life with caution, keeping abreast and taking notes of the varying stimuli fed to me, they walk with their noses high like breathing on imported air. The fidgety me took guarded little steps like a prancing jaguar, knowing very well that the lost prey would mean staying hungry and possibly disappearing into oblivion.