The endless hymn
Disclaimer: This read is for the “Medium Writer Challenge” and thus deviates from my usual technical reads and tutorials that you may otherwise find in my Medium profile.
“Hurry up! We will be late for the evening aarti prayer”. My mother used to bring me along with her to this beautiful and pristine temple — Belur Math in Kolkata (India), to sit there and sing a particular devotee song. I would say that I used to tag along against my will as anyone still in their third grade would do so too. Back then, watching Tom chasing Jerry and ultimately Tom ending up in turmoil at his attempts was the ultimate sense of enjoyment we used to have unless you are forcibly dragged to a temple and sing along a hymn that made no sense to you. This particular hymn is a typical archaic Hindu Bengali carol named — “Khandana Bhava” and occasionally appears in many domestic Bengali prayers. However, what sets it apart is when you sing the same in union with the monks while sitting on the marble floor inside the long ostentatious hall of Belur Math and in front of the pure white idol of Sri Ramakrishna facing opposite to you. Multiple tall and intricate pillars along the perimeter support the ceiling and simultaneously perform the role of windbreakers for the riverside evening breeze gushing inside the main hall. This place is ideal for someone who seeks a peaceful environment and desires to be left alone with oneself. Contrarily, I was still in my third grade, who sacrificed watching the evening Tom and Jerry show and made to sit on this cold, hard marble floor, crossed-legged that hurt my ankle. I used to watch others deep into their prayers and longed for the aarti to end so that I can go back home. You see, this hymn is somewhat unusual. First, it is way too long for a seven-year-old and can truly test a child’s patience. The second is its rhythm, which is somewhat monotonous. If you happened to be in my place, who did not know the meaning of the verses, you would too rely on the rhythm to estimate how long you have to sit there. And as and when you assume it to be subsiding, that is when you would be wrong most of the time.
The end just never arrives unless you lose the sense of time and your surroundings.
Fast-forwarding time through 20 years, we shifted and settled at multiple locations throughout the country. I went with my education at various schools, lived my teenage life, witnessed breathtaking innovations and recessions along the way, and ultimately graduating and experiencing the professional world. In this phase of life, it is in the cat and mouse chase of dreams and aspirations from where I occasionally find the sense of enjoyment, fulfilment, and disappointments. In this chase, at times, even 24 hours seems insufficient. From having ample time to daydream, play, and watch cartoons back in the days to now being left with errands to run after dusk, time seems to be inversely proportional to age. I am no longer dragged into temples but instead into parties and celebrations where I would not regret getting relief from the daily cat and mouse chase. Having so much to do in such a limited time, we find satisfaction from small bursts of dopamine either by scrolling through endless TikTok videos and Instagram Reels, swiping people left and right, or sending out absurd tweets. Everything for me was passing by as a set routine until words of a virus spread caught everyone’s attention.
“From April onwards, all employees are requested to work from home”.
Emails like this have started to roll out like wildfire. Countries and states were going under lockdown, and people confined themselves inside four walls. Barring the rush hour commuting, partying, and meeting with people, I spend most of the day alone with nothing intriguing to keep myself engaged. I realized this increased spare time that I used to cherish in my childhood. With the passing days being spent heavily on media consumption from the smartphone, laptop, and TV, it was that one fine evening when my father played the very same aarti hymn “Khandana Bhava” on speakers. The first few verses went unheeded as they would have because even today, I do not know the meaning of it. However, since the song follows the same endless, monotonous rhythm, this time it somehow went deep in my subconscious mind and took me back 15 years or so to the exact cold, hard marble floor of Belur Math temple. Now some would say that I was probably daydreaming, and I couldn’t disagree more.
At this period, whenever I hear that archaic hymn, it forcibly drags me back in time to that specific moment where I used to be irritated sitting cross-legged, hurting my ankle, and wondering when the song would end, though at present, only to find peace in recollecting all the minute details from it. This is what I would say a “reentry” for me. I find something peaceful seeing that impatient little boy sitting by his mother among a group of monks, chanting the same old verses in front of a serene white marble idol of Sri Ramakrishna who also happened to be sitting cross-legged all this time. I can still sense the cold riverside evening breeze cutting its way through the tall pillars and across my hair, even on hot summer days. While every moment from that time onwards seemed like an illusion and forgetful, I found myself fortunate to be dragged into this temple by my mother back then. Only now do I hope that the hymn to never end and be eternal just so that I can recollect the memories attached with this place and the peace of mind it has to offer.
This is when I realized that it was never endless. It fades away just when I begin to embrace those moments.
A quick Google search of the hymn’s meaning and translation reveals that it is a message “to free oneself from the bondages of the world, and to make those who have freed themselves spread their knowledge of freedom widely until the whole humanity is filled with tremendous passion for freedom”. This is the crux of it and one can go deeper into the meaning, however for the sake of brevity, I will end this read here.
I hope you enjoyed reading this article as I did while writing down my “reentry” thoughts.
