The Stranger and Aja

A Play.

Somewhere in the tracts of muddled time, where the seemingly abandoned sons of God labour to a goal unknown, with no apparent method, no immediate guiding idea, none save a fire within that leads forward. In these circumstances was staged a brief meeting.

Characters

Aja, a son of light, lingers by tracts of dusty tomes scattered about. Leaning against the wall of a low-lit room, one room of many in a temple complex.

Stranger, of no certain race, is in the vicinity.

Scene

Stranger: Details. They muddle. Hereabouts is where he ought to be. And yes, the air crackles with a familiarity. Let me see..

(Stranger sees a lad, wearied by more than years seated leaning against a wall.)

Stranger: Who art thou..seeming weighed down by things unseen?

Aja: They call me Aja. I know not what all, if any, weighs on me.

Stranger: Whereof art thou? Which clime? Who birthed?

Aja: I know not Stranger. The Eastern shore witnessed my becomings. Birthed? Ah, they were two who compel my gratitude. But little in me traces its parentage to them.

(Stranger glances at some papers, hastily scribbled..as if the muses goaded the one who wrote to unearthly speed.)

Stranger: Are these thine?

Aja: So it would seem.

Stranger: Seem? Not thy fingers that scribed? I see stains of dye on them..

Aja: Yes, these fingers did scribe them, that is true. Yet, these in truth are not mine.

Stranger: Riddles. Fond of them?

Aja: No, I speak the truth. These fingers wrote but it is not I who wrote.

Stranger: Hmm..traits of no known parentage and works of no certain authorhood. Thou art clouded as these darkened times it seems.

Aja: Perhaps Stranger. Much is clouded. Yet at times a lucidity dawns. A lucent goddess of dawn visits upon me, she lights my limbs, scribes from within and all grows to shade of light within.

Stranger: How dost thou know? You doubt thy trait’s parentage, doubt thy fingers that scribe and thy mind that muses!

Aja: Yes, I doubt all that makes me..they are of shifting shape and a mixtured make.

Stranger: Exists a thing which holds thy faith? Something of certitude?

Aja: Yes.

Stranger: Does it bear a name? Who and where?

Aja: These escape me Stranger. But, Him or Her I know not, but I have seen and heard and felt. A certitude beyond thought, the home of my wanderings and the goal of my becomings.

Stranger: What certitude thine? Posits itself on a chimera? Founded upon an unknown?

Aja: It is thus Stranger. I did hunt the certain tracts..they are but certain for a time and carry not further.

Stranger: Content thou to be thus?

Aja: Surely not. All lays prone in me..I seek.

Stranger: Declare it.

Aja: I shall not declare. All that my mind touches dost vanish. All I seek or feel or wish ends up the same.

Stranger: Yet, declare it. I listen.

Aja: A many-limbed fire burns, innumerable mouths that devour, many ears that peer into silence, a great urge that will not rest. Until something remains, the urge stays. I will to drown my all in Him.

Stranger: Thou art slave to an idea?

Aja: Not an idea. A lasso of light took me captive. I but glimpsed the hand that wielded it. A vision less seen than sensed, a swooping eagle beyond heaven seized me by its talons. I am planted with seeds of a void that will not be filled.

Stranger: Lasso? Void? Where are the scars? Thou art only afflicted as the common ones.

Aja: Maybe, only He shall know. Or perhaps He toys for pleasure!

Stranger: Or perhaps purpose?

Aja: Indeed. A voice of Him spoke of a higher purpose, a possibility of perfection here. For all to be remade and transformed by a supernal Sun.

Stranger: And when shall this be?

Aja: Sacrilege Stranger. I shall not set a schedule for His work. Nor dictate the method.

Stranger: hmm..

Aja: Pray tell, who art thou of many questions? Where from?

Stranger: I cannot tell thee yet. Thou art not sufficiently baked.

Aja: I beseech thee..do tell. I hunger and all in me turns to thee somehow.

Stranger: Well…

(The Stranger gestures and a curious cataclysm blooms within Aja..like a ending of the worlds or a halting of time. Aja melts, all around grows sacred and he sees)

Aja: Heavens beyond, O Sire Sire..it is Thou..O Singular Marvel, my sole refuge..my only Sun..O Supreme! Why hast Thou abandoned me here?

Stranger: That shall wait. Know, Thou art mine. My worker. A smuggler of my light to the dungeons of Falsehood. The disburser of my plunder to the time-born. A little of my eternity I lend to men..and thou art a bearer of it. Seek and pursue Me yet..map the paths that are yet hidden, lay bare the little that thou seest for men. Thy reward and goal shall be in manifesting my Will.

Aja: Master, no boon greater than to serve Thee eternally. Only remove these veils O Divine Beloved. May I see Thee in all and at all times. I shall not swerve.

Stranger: The veils shall fall when thou art ready.

Aja: That is enough my Master. I shall walk to the ends for Thee.

Stranger: Now venture forth. Bear my banner and do my works.

Aja: Saranāgatam Prabhu, para vidhyā dhāraka, sarva lokaika nātha, Namo Aravindāya, Namo Namaha 🙏

(Author’s Note: Written today, 6th January 2018. Triggered within, in response to musing about significance of works done by Murli R. As with such works, all unfolded within as a word-vision where beyond hearing and seeing one participates in the proceedings. May it aid all as it aided us 🙏*)*

Picture Courtesy: Savitri Video

The Stranger and Aja

A Play.