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Have You Seen God?



Once upon a time we were young irresponsible selfish proud drinking smoking pot living it up and down and adventurous we went for a walk and it was no mole-hill but a gigantic mountain thick with forest plants shrubs cactus and cacti the wind had whipped slashed deep gashes sharp crevices into rocks and boulders carving exotic God-like creatures devilish monsters alien flowers never before seen at lower depths grew at such heights we were having the time of our lives skipping from one steep slope to another spinning like two crazy tops without keeping track of our trek.
 
Close on our heels an old tribal lady followed coming to collect firewood warned us of mountain bears panthers snakes not to be lolling for long to reach home before dark left us rolling a joint we were high and the valley below…soon it was 4 o’clock time to descend we trotted off like mountain goats feeling safe secure and stoned after blundering for sometime round and round we went around various hills coming out of the wrong end with no clue which way to descend dots of huts could be seen below of course they could be reached how lost could we be? Lots as we were soon to find.
 
On a stoned impulse we took an absolute wrong turn on a narrow path hugging the hills at a dangerous incline if we fell like Jack and Jill our heads would roll and come tumbling after hearts in our mouths we teetered and tottered suddenly a dark shadow loomed large and ominous upon us draping the mountain side with the cloak of Count Dracula riding the sky on the wings of a monstrous bat without saying a word we did an about turn scrambled fled and fell where the path was broader we knew by instinct going further would have got us killed for whatever reason the first time we panicked truth dawned upon us that we could be lost forever circling these hills weathered by the wind withered to the bone our flesh meat to the bears and panthers we sat down in despair watched the sun setting inside our sinking hearts.
 
Leaving bright orange trails in its wake out of the rays of the setting sun more beautiful than the rising one with our frightened little eyes we spied what looked like a figure walking towards us we watched mesmerized as it came nearer and nearer materialized into a young rustic boy no more than 10 or 12 now up close and personal standing right in front of us real of flesh and blood no hanky panky no ghost no halo around his head no creature extraterrestrial if we had pinched his arm he would have screamed or poked it with a pin he would have bled that’s how real he was but when he spoke we froze: HAVE YOU SEEN GOD?
 
Those were his first words rather the first question he asked not who we were or why or what neither who he was I’d risen to greet him introduce ourselves ask for help so to speak but my knees felt weak and folded of its own accord we were struck dumb as he continued to answer his own question in a cheery conversational familiar way as if over a tea-cup out for a social call: I SEE HIM EVERYDAY EVERYDAY I TALK TO HIM HE APPEARS TO ME DAILY DAILY I GREET HIM

Full of enthusiasm the young boy as if describing his favorite sport I decided that if we were jumping from the frying pan to the fire so be it: WE ARE LOST a thin sliver of a shriek escaped from my choked throat in a high sniveling pitch: WE CANNOT FIND THE WAY DOWN CAN YOU SHOW US THE WAY PLEASE? I cried almost in tears whined in my most pathetic tone he smiled: NO PROBLEM JUST FOLLOW ME.
 
And follow him we did for our dear lives there never was a more focused descent in the footsteps of our savior being high was no longer the way to be not a word was spoken between us he sensed we were tense in no frame of mind he got the vibe the time was not ripe for a spiritual discourse he never spoke after that silence reigned supreme just the sound of our hysterical desperate steps scrambling after him I swear the way he was bringing us down we would never have been able to find in our seven lives he brought us dead on the right track right in front of our house the last few feet we ran down the hill in such blessed relief it was not funny how happy we were like long lost children suddenly found by loved ones the sheer relief outweighed our gratitude towards the stranger our savior as an afterthought before entering our home we turned around to thank him but he was gone with no regret we ran inside.

Stranger than fiction the story is true every written word no exaggeration no embellishments no endeavor to impress but state the fact as it were of a real life incident experienced many moons ago for years we never told the story to anyone but a cousin who lives in the very same hills of Mount Abu said there’s a myth as there are myths in such ancient places of worship as this of old saints long dead now Gods who roam these hills…but I take that with a fist full of salt not a pinch.

Not being religious at all products of liberated westernized parents in schools taught by Irish British Canadian German nuns and fathers our daily prayers give us this day our daily bread lead us not into temptation we sang nearer my God to thee with great fervor the sign of the cross was second nature we even crossed ourselves on occasional temple visits in college it was fashionable to go left with Karl Marx right with Capitalism Ayn Rand and Coffee House and then there was Existentialism so well integrated were we so encouraged to be free thinkers with the right bend of mind towards literature philosophy and science our parents were fiends when it came to education but not with myths or religion.

But there’s no denying our inherent spiritual inheritance nor the ancient history of Mount Abu which I should have related at the very beginning but I’m not very adept at story telling in the middle of the great Indian Thar desert surrounded by the Aravalli ranges older than the Himalayas huge volcanic rocks jut out above 6000 feet precariously perched since the dawn of time forming Mount Abu with deep caves where holy men still reside left or right up or down there are temples everywhere some you have to climb more than 400 steps some you have to descend more than 800 steps to reach if you google its ancient history it was some kind of a spiritual abode where the sages went to meditate and worship even an agnostic can feel the spiritual vibe every rock rocks with spirituality temples devoted to this God or that Goddess hermits everywhere smoking chillums.

And if you don’t believe such places exist read the poems of the great Indian poet Arun Kolatkar and his famous Jejuri series another such spiritual place in a different part of India but similar & in his own words: ‘what is God / and what is stone/ the dividing line / if it exists / is very thin’ he goes on to say: ‘every other stone / is God or his cousin’ and further still: ‘scratch a rock / and a legend springs.’

All that aside I really wish to know what happened here if you have any answers or your own interpretation of the story do let me know. Who was the little boy? Why did he ask: have you seen God? & then to go on to say: I see him everyday talk to him everyday - what kind of a boy was he? What is clearly etched in my memory is the image of a guileless innocent simple little village boy with no room for doubt of his flesh and blood existence.

& then to rescue us bring us unerringly right in front of our house we never told him where we lived the mountains are huge and expansive with a million ways to descend although this is just a minor point in the bigger mystery.
 
What I’ll never ever forget is the vision of him stepping out of the setting sun striding straight towards us and then without a pause to catch his breath his jubilant question: have you seen God? & in the same breath: I see him everyday talk to him everyday – his declaration was a kind of celebration had we not been such dithering frightened lost beings we would have sat him down chatted with him asked our own questions – what does God look like? What do you talk to him about? What does he say? Who is God? I’ve kicked myself many times few friends who know the story tell us thank God you got saved of course… but we missed the opportunity of asking: who are you?

Not only that but I feel the boy took away my right to doubt the existence of God. Please tell me what you feel.

 
  




 
Jun/8/2012, 8:26 am Link to this post Send Email to queenfisher   Send PM to queenfisher Blog
 
Christine98 Profile
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Re: Have You Seen God?


hi queenfisher,

I take it, the story is true (?) despite the first line, "Once upon a time..."

It's a good story in any case. Well told and intriguing. Why regret neglecting to interrogate the other-worldly child? His appearance is explanation enough. It is also a great mystery. Gotta love this story, thanks for it,

Chris
 
Jun/9/2012, 12:04 pm Link to this post Send Email to Christine98   Send PM to Christine98
 
Katlin Profile
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Hi Queenfisher,

It's a lovely story, well told, with enough detail to make it real and enough mystery to allow the reader to question and wonder. Being able to make people wonder again is a great gift. Thanks so much for posting this. emoticon

Last edited by Katlin, Jun/9/2012, 1:05 pm
Jun/9/2012, 1:04 pm Link to this post Send Email to Katlin   Send PM to Katlin
 
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dear christine & katlin

thanks a lot for the appreciation & the wonderful encouragement & insight - means a lot to me.

this is my first attempt at prose & yes the story is abs. true even tho the form is a bit strange & so is the language but the content is 100% true

as long as it also makes interesting reading i'm glad

thanks katlin for the lovely remark of being able to make people wonder - i'm so full of wonder myself - the older i get the more i think about it & wonder what really happened - otherwise for years i'd forgotten about it - now that i'm here it surfaced again!

christine - i really like your observation - 'his appearance is explanation enough' why regret questioning the child? true very true that's put my mind at rest! thanks!

  
Jun/10/2012, 11:17 am Link to this post Send Email to queenfisher   Send PM to queenfisher Blog
 
Terreson Profile
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Damn good writing for a newbie to prose. Even for someone more practiced. Only one misstep. Paragraph 2. "Lots we were soon to find." Allow me, your reader, to make my own discoveries in the story's little world.

Honestly, I've had too many experiences of a certain un-rational order to doubt the veracity of your tale. It's an order I've known for a very long time. Can still surprise myself there.

Chris is right. But I might couch it differently. The answer to your question your story itself supplies.

~ All that aside I really wish to know what happened here if you have any answers or your own interpretation of the story do let me know. Who was the little boy? Why did he ask: have you seen God? & then to go on to say: I see him everyday talk to him everyday - what kind of a boy was he? What is clearly etched in my memory is the image of a guileless innocent simple little village boy with no room for doubt of his flesh and blood existence.~

No room for doubt of his flesh and blood existence is the answer to your several questions. In a poem posted on the board I have a line in which the character addressed, an old friend long since dead, says about himself: My dance is my body, my God is my own. That is how I approach certain questions. Not unlike yours.

The part were the story brings up training in education and the rational is mete and well carried out. It makes for a stark contrast to the mountain adventure itself and to the savior-visitor. It points to a certain limitation of both science and ideology. Well done. I'm willing to bet some critical readers would advise you to excise the reflection. Turn a deaf ear.

In a small way I can relate to that village child. Conversation with the numinous really can be easy and, well, conversational.

Thank you Queen for posting your story. It will keep here for as long as the board keeps here.

Tere
Jun/16/2012, 2:13 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
vkp Profile
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What an incredible story, Queen. And the tumbling narrative style -- like running down a mountain -- adds to the pressure and intensity of the story and the need to find out more, learn answers.... I am impressed with how well you manage the narration. You have a strong prose voice despite being a beginner (maybe not such a beginner, maybe a novelist in a recent lifetime...!). Eschewing punctuation at first struck me as dangerous but I continued to love how it worked and I was swept along by it all.

What an amazing image of that boy stepping out of the setting sun -- gorgeous. The veil was very thin there, that day, and you not only saw through it but reached through it -- or were reached, through it, by the boy. The wonderful boy!
Jun/16/2012, 2:57 pm Link to this post Send Email to vkp   Send PM to vkp Blog
 
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Hello Queen.

I love the way you tell your story! It is so wild and energetic and frenetic and poetic. You lose me towards the end when you leave story telling mode and the whole tone changes. I think a whole lot of that might be cut. I could see adding more about the location in the beginning part and I love how he knew where home was without being told.
Jun/19/2012, 2:31 pm Link to this post Send PM to carolinex
 
queenfisher Profile
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dear terreson

thanks a lot for the appreciation & the great honor for keeping the story.

& thanks for providing the key with my own observation. the locks are opening pretty smoothly now! i'm so glad i posted this as i'm seeing the episiode with much more clarity now with everyone's comments.

i'm back to civilization - to the big bad city of Mumbai after the mountains - no place like the mountains - even tho we have the sea here.

it's good to know that you've known the un-rational order for a long time! & that you could relate to the story & the village boy - makes my job easier!

your comments have helped tremenuously to confirm my belief / faith thanks so much for that!
Jun/26/2012, 3:17 am Link to this post Send Email to queenfisher   Send PM to queenfisher Blog
 
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thanks vkp!

i'm glad you liked the style as i was wondering whether it would work or not. it just came pretty naturally to me although i normally do not write or speak in that manner!

you're right the veil was very thin that day - thank God we could be reached! all the comments here are helping to lift the veil further & furthur!

dear caroline - thanks! i thought it needed a bit of explanation that's why i decided to add those comments as it is a true story & not really fiction. but i know what you mean!

Last edited by queenfisher, Jun/26/2012, 3:30 am
Jun/26/2012, 3:28 am Link to this post Send Email to queenfisher   Send PM to queenfisher Blog
 
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queenfisher,

This is quite a story. It doesn't have a conventional pattern of development, seems a bit rough in places where the writer explains hershelf/himself and "how" he explains herself/himself. It could be smoother, it seems. But much of the work here isn't developed for a glossy magazine anyway, at least that is my impression. So the story works for me. The questions are good. Who was the boy? I was in New Jersey heading for NYC, and expecting the coldness that people talk about for the citizens of that part of the country. I was at a bus stop, and this friendly individual gave me a lot of good, friendly advice on my approach to Gotham. He seemed like an angel to me. Was he? Are there such things? And why don't they help other people in distress, people about to die, like in Aurora, Colorado? Maybe these angels only show up at the appointed time. Not when it's your time to suffer and learn a life lesson, or die. Or maybe they DO show up when you die, to carry you away. Who knows. We don't have to listen to the rationalists all the time. Thanks, Zak
Jul/22/2012, 8:05 am Link to this post Send Email to Zakzzz5   Send PM to Zakzzz5
 
queenfisher Profile
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dear zak

thanks for reading the story - you're right - it could be much smoother & needs re-writing - i got a bit confused in telling the story as it was - since it was not fiction & the explanation - got tied up in that - & it needs to be smoothened out - as a complete piece whenever i'm ready to send it to the new-yorker!

thanks for the interesting story - i like to think there are some angels still left!

i've had only two experiences of this kind - which i'm aware of - i'm sure there are many- as in the life of others - where angels watch & care without us being aware.

would like to share the other minor experience i had - we'd gone to a place called Jaipur - which is again in Rajasthan - we'd lived there for a few years before moving to mumbai - we went to sell an old piece of land - in order to buy an apartment in Mumbai - an apt. which i really liked but was exhorbitant - as real estate here is more expensive than tokyo! it was way beyond our means - unless we could sell the land we owned in jaipur.

there's a beautiful old fort in jaipur called Amer Fort - (you can check it out on the net) we decided to re-visit it as it's a lovely place - there's an old temple inside - we decided to go in on an impulse - i just folded my hands - closed my eyes & prayed feverishly to whichever God was inside (we have many) the distance between the devotees & the main sanctum santorum is immense - only the priests are inside - there's a railing which separates the two.

with eyes closed & very focused i was praying to God for the apt! jostling with a lot of other people - suddenly i opened my eyes with a start - as i felt something landing with force around my neck! it was a huge garland with marigold flowers - which the priest had thrown from a vast distance & it landed clean around my neck!

of course i got the apartment & am living in it!!
Aug/28/2012, 12:23 am Link to this post Send Email to queenfisher   Send PM to queenfisher Blog
 


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