The Story Teller

It was going to be an ultimate story. The one that was going to solve all the mysteries of life, all the problems that people faced daily, smoothen out knots and bring lasting happiness to mankind.

“Once you know this story, you will know your past and future. You will know this earth and universe. Nothing will remain a mystery anymore. You will be able to just open it like a book and read your chapter that will tell you exactly what to expect and even what to do.” Kareem had said..

Kareem, the story teller, was an ordinary looking man, lean and thin, almost emaciated. It was only the glow of his skin that hinted at his inner power and energy. His angular jaw and set mouth gave him a look of determination. But it was his eyes that were different from others. Something in them caught you unawares. You could turn your eyes away but then you were forced to look back again and then again into the depths of them. They were eyes that read too much; eyes that said too much.

When people gathered around him, the air would become thick with anticipation. With bated breath, people waited for him to resume his story from where he had left it the day before. They could feel their stomachs churn and their hearts flutter with strange expectations. But Kareem waited for the story to land thick on his heart and settle down. Each word that he spoke, cast a spell on his listeners. They came from near and far to listen to his stories. He cooked them on a slow simmering fire and added such flavors that they got caught in his words and couldn’t wait for the next bite to quench the hunger that gripped them tightly. Kareem would leave his story half way, no not half way but just a little short of the climax which made people go mad thinking of the end in excitement. They tossed and turned in their cots all night thinking about it, till sleep finally caught up with them early in the morning. After the day’s hard work, they gathered around the old Peepal tree and discussed the consequences of the plot or the end but contrary to their logic and discussions, Kareem’s stories would always take a magical turn at the end and surprise them, leaving their mouths open with wonder. They would all be quite overwhelmed and satisfied, the way you feel after a hearty meal. But also like a hearty meal the story took time to be digested. The stories had the strong essence of life in them. The stories were breathing and pulsing life; you could have actually lived them.

Kareem after telling a story, which could take a week to finish, would go back to his hut in the jungle and people would keep thinking about his tales, its twists and turns till they actually understood exactly what he was trying to say. The message once properly assimilated in their system would give them a soothing and dreamless sleep. After a week they would be ready for more. Kareem would be back from the jungle to weave more tales.

It was said that he got his stories from the thick forest. Butterflies, birds, snakes and wolves and even scorpions and toads would come, sit and chat with him and then regale him with more tales. Kareem would listen to them with rapt attention and then return to translate them in a language that could easily be understood by men.

Kareem understood the jungle; he was conversant with the language of its inhabitants, their concerns and the power of nature that they were a part of. Nature spoke many of its secrets through them. Thus they could predict nature; they could predict its designs and its purpose. Since Kareem lived a good part of his day inside that jungle, he knew many stories about the good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly, the powerful and the powerless, kings, their reins and extent and even the rise and fall of empires. He knew why people fought; the basic reason, a piece of land, money, power, greed and often women. He also knew the fate of such fights. His stories told men about the consequences of their actions. Some people understood and took them seriously while others just took them as stories and forgot all about them.

Kareem was also known as the Magician because he could predict the arrival of rains, earthquake, floods, tornadoes and other natural calamities. It was mainly for the forecast of rains that people came to him from far and wide. They wanted to know its exact timing and whether it would be just a drizzle or a torrential downpour. Also how long it would last or if it would bring floods with it. It helped them sow and cut their yields accordingly. Kareem told them three days in advance which helped them plan cutting, sowing, storing and take other appropriate measures for their harvest. His predictions had never failed. They were as consistent as the rising of the sun.

It was during one such scorching summer that the earth was cracking up because of drought and the udders of goats and cows were drying up. Children were wilting in the heat and falling prey to illness. People thronged temples and prayed to the rain god, rather they prayed to all gods and pleaded with them and promised them great sacrifices only if they obliged and sent the rains. But when the rains did not arrive for another fortnight and when three children and many buffaloes lost their life, they went and asked Kareem-

“Tell us Kareem, when shall we have rains?”

Kareem just looked up intensely at the sky and shook his head in despair.

“But you have magical powers…why don’t you use your magic and bring us rains?”. Kareem rarely spoke to people except when he was telling them a story. He was surprised at their insistence.

‘No I can not bring rain. I have no magical powers.”

The people got angry with Kareem. How could such a knowledgeable man who wielded so much power, not do something about rains. They were understandably furious.

That evening, the sky became overcast with dense grey clouds and people thought Kareem had lost his magical powers. They thought his predictions were proving wrong. A few, who were jealous of him went and mocked him. It was an opportune time for them to get even with him. They could now break his tenacity and show him his rightful place. Inside they felt a strange jubilation by putting him down.

“So you think you are the biggest magician. You think you have all of the world’s wisdom with you. See the clouds are so thick and we shall have good rains.” Normally they used to wait for his nod before making decisions to sow or cut their harvest but now they thought perhaps Kareem was getting old. In the morning the villagers started sowing their seeds. They went about planning their work. For two days the sky remained laden with thick clouds. On the third day when villagers woke up to go to the fields, they saw the morning sun rising in the clear sky. The clouds had all but disappeared and it was again very hot.

Alarmed, they went running to the Peepul tree where Kareem would sit and regale them with his juicy stories but Kareem was nowhere to be seen. He had already left for the Jungle. Quietly they huddled waiting for him to return, repenting their foolishness. It was nearly a week when they saw a lean figure coming towards that old Peepul tree. All of them ran towards Kareem who came supporting a broad smile on his face.

“Rains are on the way. Exactly three days.” Joyous at the prediction, the people went berserk and hugged him tight. Soon they all got busy preparing for their work in the fields. Finally the dry spell would be over; finally they would see new saplings; finally their livestock could be saved. Their children would not die of hunger and thirst.

The rains arrived on time and life went back to normal. Kareem’s stories continued to excite their hearts and minds as they mulled over the twists and turns of his tales and after digesting them, went into dreamless sleep.

Kareem was getting old but there was no dearth to his stories. From children to old women; from babies in their mother’s arms to old and infirm all had something to learn from him. He kept everyone hooked up to his sweet tales. They all derived their meanings from it. His stories were close to their heart because they were their stories.

One night Kareem had a high fever. All the villagers gathered around him and worried about his health. The doctor from the nearby village was called. He gave medicines yet Kareem remained ill for a week. The villagers started worrying about his health. They also worried because they were so used to his knowledge and wisdom that without him they felt they would be orphaned. They all gathered under the shade of the tree and asked Kareem;

“If something happened to you, how will we survive without you and your stories?”

Kareem got worried too. Yes, he had a huge account of tales for everyone. They needed to be told before he died. He kept thinking about the way to pass on his knowledge to everyone.

“What I can do is to tell you an ultimate story. Once you have heard it, you have heard everything. Once you know this story, you won’t need to know anything more.”

“How is that?” a young lad asked.

“Well once you know this story, you will know your past and future. You will know this earth and universe. Nothing will remain a mystery anymore. You would be able to just open up it like a book and read your chapter that will tell you what to expect and even what to do.”

“Really!” They all shouted. Nothing could be more exciting then knowing your future. They would know everything about the rains and the floods and spring and winter. Badhua would know whether his barren wife would eventually give him a son; Momin would know whether he would get his land from the Jamindaar. They all started dreaming of how they were going to use that information.

“But there is a condition” Kareem added.

“And what is that?” They were all too excited and willing to accept any condition.

“I shall go to the forest for a month. You will have to wait till I come back. Please do not follow me or try to reach me till I come back on my own.”

One month was too long a wait. Yet they were willing to wait for his return. Just little bit of patience was all Kareem was asking for. They promised they would wait patiently for him to know the mother of all stories.

Kareem disappeared into the forest for a month. The villagers worried about his health. Everyday they waited for him to come back with the ultimate story for them all. It was already a few days over a month and there was no sign of Kareem. The villagers got restless. They wanted to know the ultimate truth and also didn’t wish to lose their beloved Kareem.

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Kareem thanked the blue bird with black and yellow tail. For him predicting rain was easy. As soon as this bird appeared near his hut in the jungle, he knew rains would follow in three days. Kareem therefore lovingly called this bird, “Rain Bird”. Snakes, toads, scorpions, deer, elephants, fishes, alligators all had something to tell Kareem. They never failed Kareem. That was the reason his predictions were always correct.

Kareem called every resident of the jungle and told them about his predicament.

“I am getting old but before I die, I must tell people the ultimate story. So now each of you come to me one by one and tell me your secrets. All the inhabitants agreed to pass on their knowledge selflessly to Kareem. After all he was their friend and they trusted him with their hearts. They were also ready to help mankind without any malice. First the creatures from sky descended and told him their deepest secrets, then came creatures from rivers and oceans and then from the land. It was already a month. Even though they tried very hard to do it in a short time there was so much to pass on that it took them much time.

Already it was a week over the promised month. Now the very last one to pass on his secrets was the snake from the underground. After this, Kareem had to just wrap it up and pass it on to the villagers so they could live in peace and prosperity. The final, Cobra came and slowly wrapped himself around Kareem to reach his ear. He had just started unfolding his secrets when all villagers worried sick and apprehensive about Kareem burst in upon his hut in the jungle. They saw the cobra wrapped all around Kareem’s body reaching up to his neck. They panicked thinking that their story teller was in mortal danger from the snake. In their panic they started pulling the snake away from Kareem’s body. The snake got frantic too, he didn’t want to be a traitor, he had promised to tell Kareem the last secret so he tightened his grip around Kareem. In this tussle Kareem’s neck was strangled and he died on the spot. In their grief and anger the villagers killed the Cobra.

My dear readers now you know why man has never been able to know the ultimate truth? It died with Kareem. The stories that you and I tell today are the same old Kareem’s stories that are doing the rounds in a different name, time and context. The ultimate story has been lost forever. We shall never know our future; we shall never understand the ultimate truth.

Now let us continue to tell and retell our stories till Kareem takes rebirth to reveal the final truth.