There existed a forest. It existed neither too far away from civilization, nor too close to it. And within this forest stood a massive wooden gate. This gate guarded a compound that was surrounded on all sides by wooden walls that were too low to offer any real protection.
The massive gate was made of light wood and seemed feeble. It seemed like one kick away from falling off its hinges. The wooden walls were no better. Rather, to call them walls would be an exaggeration. Instead, the fence would be the better word, if their height was to be taken into consideration.
Besides the height, even the structural integrity of the fence was questionable as moss had covered most of the fence, as far as the eyes could see and what little had been left, was splattered with holes. As if that was not enough, small mounds of wood dust could be seen littered near the feet of fence, all across its length.
Clearly, the walls suffered from a termite infestation.
Within this compound, there were buildings littered around without any sense of direction or reason. Though, to address those structures as buildings would be being generous, as most those buildings were made of mud and thatched roofs. Huts would be a more appropriate word for those structures.
All in all, the compound did not give off the feeling of security.
Yet, it existed and that too within the depth of the Evergreen Forest. A place with monsters and spirits abound. This phenomenon confused the group of fidgeting children standing in front of the massive gate, nervously and impatiently awaiting their entrance.
The double doors of the gate smoothly opened with nary a sound, further proving their worthlessness, and an unremarkable man calmly walked out of the double doors. He wore saffron robes that contrasted remarkably against his dark brown skin. His grey dreadlocks were tied up above his head in an impressive bun. While his salt and pepper beard almost hid the necklace of thorny beads that he wore.
The man was gaunt and thin but not overly tall. His skin was taught against his muscles in a way that indicated starvation but the pace of his walk and the glow of skin argued otherwise. His brown eyes were clear and his smile was bright. Yet, they did not manage to brighten his common appearance.
He gave the group of children a casual glance.
“Pranam Guruji.” The children hurriedly joined their hands and bowed as they greeted the man in an unsynchronized chorus. In answer, the man raised his right hand and, with his palm facing the group, muttered a blessing in response. “The glory be yours.”
He surveyed the children once again, finding nervousness, longing, fear and anxiety as the main emotions saturating the children.
“You are here to walk on the path of knowledge, curiosity, sacrifice, austerity and asceticism.” He addressed the children. “It will be difficult but not impossible. All that you require is the will to step forward.”
An anxious buzz passed through the group as his words scared the children, much like they usually did every year. But this did not deter the saffron-clad man from baring down the truth before them, even though they were too young to comprehend the meaning behind his words. “This path, that you would walk, is the path of [Will] and [Reflection]. With enough will, this path is yours. With enough self-reflection, the world is yours.”
“We who walk this path, nurture our curiosity and question the world. And to question we need the will to do so. But to know what to question, we need self-reflection to know so.”
“Today you stare at a long and difficult road ahead of you, but if you bear to walk it, then know that you’d dare to question the blessed and the lords, the kings and the emperors. And if you walk down this path long enough, you’d even dare to question the Laws and the Gods.”
His words, incomprehensible they may be, caused a buzz of excitement to pass through the children and the man smiled.
“Enough of this now.” The children fell silent at his order. “You will be living in the Ashram from now on but you must learn to take care of yourself and renounce the world. But before that, follow me.”
The man led the children to a large building on the far side of the compound. Surprisingly, the building was made up of wood rather than mud, like the others were. Though that was not much of an improvement considering the decrepit condition it was in. “This is where you will be staying, but only for a month.”
He turned to face the children and his serious gaze met the nervous ones of the children.
“During this one month, you must build a cottage of your own. You may only use clay and hay. Nothing more.” He ordered in short and precise sentences. “What you’d make will be your home from the beginning of the next month. If you have not made one by the end of the month, then let the stars greet you at night.”
His declaration shocked the children into silence. Never had they imagined that they would have to build their own homes. After all, some of these children were the children of the affluent that had lavish houses to live in and servants to order around.
A boy tentatively raised his hand; this situation was unacceptable to him. His father was the inspector in the nearest town; he clearly deserved better. Yet, he was no fool. He knew the person greeting him was no ordinary man. Thus, respectfully waited to be called upon.
The man smiled and addressed the children. “Never fear to ask your teachers. We nurture curiosity and the spirit of questioning here. Yet, you must first try to reason the answer yourself. Only when you have failed, should you seek the guidance of your teacher. After all, curiosity without the will to reason yourself is no curiosity at all.”
“I will answer your questions today. But in future, when you seek guidance from your teachers, you must come to us with a conclusion of your own and why you concluded so.” He nodded towards the child who had raised his hand previously. “Now ask.”
“Guruji, umm,” The child hesitated, “why must we build these…sha- homes? Can’t we just live here?” He hopefully pointed to the building.
“Good question.” The man smiled. “You must build your own homes because you must learn what you are capable of and how long can your determination last. Some of you would plan big houses but end up never finishing them. While others would plan a house too small and would regret that they had dreamed a bit too little.”
“The other reason that you must build these shacks,” He smiled mischievously at the child, who blushed promptly at having his words caught, “is because you are young. As you would continue to grow, you would find that the homes you had built, with so much of your hard work and sweat, grow too small with each passing day.”
“You would be forced to abandon your homes. You’d have to make them again and again and then again when you realise that you need more space than just for yourself. This process will break down your attachments to the worldly desires and help you walk down your path.” The man nodded at the child. “Anything else.”
The children broke into a nervous yet excited chatter.
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Within a desolate desert, inside a dilapidated shop, on a simple chair, a youth seemingly slept.
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