Listening, Dave Mckay Mckay [dar e dil novel online reading txt] 📗

Chapter Three--The Vaishnu Sect

Chaim didn’t know how to answer Molly’s question even if he had wanted to; so he just threw an embarrassed grin in her direction... a grin at his own predicament if nothing else. Dreaming, no doubt, meant something different to Aborigines than what it did to him. She could have been talking about any number of things. If he had said yes, would it have meant anything? After all, by a White man’s interpretation, everyone dreams.

And what about her advice for him to listen to his dream… assuming, of course, that the frightened blue eyes of the little girl were what she was talking about? How does one listen to a dream?

As soon as the rally had finished, he hurried home to deal with a few last minute chores and then get a good night’s sleep before leaving for India the next morning.

Thankfully, there were no more dreams that night... at least not the worrying kind. Maybe the episode was behind him.

The conference in Chennai was routine, although full of enough business to leave little time for delegates to do anything more than attend meetings. When it finished, however, Chaim had a day and a half to himself, which he planned to use to investigate a Hindu sect that had been arousing considerable interest in South India. The guru behind it had consented to a private visit with Chaim, and his ashram was only a two hour drive from Chennai.

At the ashram, Chaim was greeted by a beautiful young woman in a light brown sari.

“Vanakkam. My name is Lakshmi,” she said as she placed her palms together and bowed her head in the traditional Indian greeting. “How can I help you?”

“My name is Chaim Rosenberg. I have an appointment with Guru Vaishnu for two o’clock,” Chaim replied.

The woman’s brow wrinkled in bewilderment. “I am so sorry,” she said. “But Guru Vaishnu has appointment with another man today.”

After some checking, Chaim learned that there had been a mistake and his audience with the man had been scheduled for the following week. The sect leader was being interviewed that very moment by Geoffrey Baum, a reporter for the BBC, after which Vaishnu would be leaving for the airport and a flight to Bangalore. Still, with some explanation about his own interest in the movement, Chaim managed to get permission from the reporter to observe the interview and to take notes for his own research.

“Why do you think your movement has attracted so much interest here in India?” Baum asked.

Baum was a big man (both in height and build), in a white shirt with an open collar. Beads of sweat dotted his brow, and his long brown hair was damp as well. (It was May, and the heat in Tamil Nadu at that time of year was almost unbearable.) By contrast, Vaishnu was small, thin, bald, and cool as a cucumber. He was clad only in a blue plaid lungi. Chaim was immediately struck by the guru's quiet confidence.

“People in India have always been interested in spiritual things,” Vaishnu said with a patient smile. “But our religion does not have one leader to teach all our people. Because of this, people believe many different things. Only now we are seeing things that were secret for many years. They receive it because in their hearts they know it is true. This is what happened when Gandhi started teaching ahimsa.* It is happening again now.” The time is right.

(*ahimsa means non-violence)

Chaim had already noted that Vaishnu looked a lot like Gandhi, but with much darker skin, and a plaid lungi instead of a white one.

“Did you get your ideas from Gandhi?” Baum asked.

“We know his teachings; and we study the holy books. Truth is in there, but many do not see it.”

“Can you give me an example?”

“I will give you a big example: You see statues of Laxmi in many shops in India.”

Baum nodded to indicate that he had.

“The shop owners do poojah to Laxmi because they know from the books that she is the goddess of provision. She is most favorite goddess, because all people want to be rich. But real faith in Laxmi will make them stop trying to be rich. Think about it for one minute."

Chaim thought about it while Vaishnu and Baum also paused. He was struck by the simplicity of this radically different approach to wealth, where people are taught to show their faith in God's provision by not trying to be rich.

"What we are doing now," continued Vaishnu, "we are teaching devotees to do good and to help others, and then Laxmi will feed them. The people are simply seeing the truth in this.”

In several villages in Tamil Nadu people were discovering this new interpretation of Laxmi’s role. She and her legendary husband Vishnu represented the power of God’s provision. In her name, Vaishnu’s followers were quitting their jobs by the hundreds and setting out to make the world a better place through freely offering their services wherever they were needed. As word had spread that their needs were still being met (often by the people whom they helped), others had warmed to the idea and joined the movement.

“Many are saying that you are the tenth avatar. What do you have to say about that?” Baum asked.

Many Hindus believe that Vishnu appears in a total of ten incarnations or avatars, including Rama, Krishna, and the Buddha. Nine avatars have already appeared, and the tenth, or Kalki Avatar, they say, will come riding on a white horse with a meteor-like sword. He will pour out death and destruction on the earth as a prelude to re-establishing righteousness. It will mark the end of an age of darkness, and the start of an age of purity and innocence.

“I am not even a prophet,” Vaishnu said humbly. “All I do is prepare the people for Kalki Avatar.”

“Do you know who he is... or where he is?” Baum asked hopefully.

“I know nothing,” said Vaishnu. “All that I say is already in the vedas and in the Gita.”

After the interview, Chaim was barely able to introduce himself to Vaishnu before the guru was whisked away by his attendants. However, he had seen enough to be deeply impressed. He arranged to maintain contact via email with the little man.

Authorities in Tamil Nadu were starting to see the political advantages that could be gained from supporting the Vaishnuvites. In those fields where Vaishnu's followers had chosen to apply their talents, they were said to be the most honest, the most enthusiastic, and the most reliable workers. The fact that they were happy to work for free, or for whatever they were offered, was an added bonus for those who employed them.

Fundamentalist Hindus controlled the Government in Tamil Nadu. They had quickly thrown together a series of projects aimed at occupying the talents of followers of Vaishnu. As a consequence, cities were being cleaned, trees planted, and roads repaired in a way that they never had been before.

In return for their labour, the Government had provided Vaishnuvites with basic necessities, and had offered to build them a temple. Members would provide the labour, of course.

Now other states were showing a similar interest. In fact, Vaishnu's trip to Bangalore that same day had been financed by the Karnataka State Government, in order for them to interview him about future plans.

In Chaim's mind, one of the best things about Vaishnu’s teaching was that he had taken Gandhi’s opposition to untouchability a step further, and had urged those who trusted in Laxmi and Vishnu for their provision, to give first priority to work that no one else wanted. The most despised jobs were those related to sanitation and hygiene... the work of untouchables. As a consequence, the state had inherited an army of zealous street sweepers, toilet cleaners, and nursing aides. Even Vaishnu's attire and that of his attendants reflected that of the lowest castes, suggesting that his idea of 'provision' was not one of luxury, but just of necessities.

Between naps on his overnight flight back to Sydney, Chaim mused on how the movement would affect India and the rest of the world if it should continue to spread.

(Table of Contents)

Chapter Four--Those Eyes

Even before he had cleared Customs in Sydney, it was evident to Chaim that something was seriously wrong. Everyone at the airport, from cleaners to Customs officials, was busily passing on bits of information to one another. This information gradually filtered through the queues of incoming passengers as well. Something terrible had happened in America. Hundreds of thousands of people had been killed... maybe more.

A surprise Russian Air Force attack over the North Pole, linked with the launch of hundreds of nuclear missiles, had wiped out, or nearly wiped out, scores of American cities. Reports were sketchy, but U.N. Secretary General Xu Dangchao had already appeared on TV, asking for governments to work in co-operation with the U.N. to mount a rescue operation. Many of America's international airports had been destroyed, but tents, medicine, and other supplies would be sent to those places in the U.S., Mexico, and Canada where planes could still land. Because of widespread fallout and the extent of damage, it would also be necessary to fly hundreds of thousands of people (if not many times more than that) out of the U.S., to seek refuge in other countries.

The airport was in chaos, but Chaim's flight to Newcastle was not affected. Throughout the day nothing occupied his attention (nor much of anyone else’s attention for that matter) nearly so much as getting news updates on what was happening in America. Although it would be weeks before the full extent of the damage was known, it did not take long to realise that this was a disaster which towered far above all other disasters in human history.

The world was amazed at the ease with which America had been destroyed, and especially at the apparent failure of her defence system. The Secretary General was so quick to respond that there were rumours he knew ahead of time that the attack was going to take place.

Back in his flat in Newcastle, Chaim was watching the news the next morning when the first video clips of the scene in America were being shown. They included an amateur video probably taken from a camera that had been found in the rubble of an American airport.

A family of three was facing the camera, with their backs to the large windows that looked out on the airport runway. In the final second or two of the video, a ball of fire could be seen hurtling across the taxiing lanes. Planes were just beginning to upend, before the windows exploded and the filming ceased.

What transfixed Chaim, however, was not the action in the background. It was the family in the picture. In the center of the trio was a beautiful little girl, about six years old, with springy blonde ringlets surrounding an angelic face. He watched in shocked disbelief as the girl's innocent blue eyes filled with horror at the very moment that the video cut out.

Although tolerant of other beliefs, for himself Chaim could not remember a time when he had ever believed in miracles. The miraculous, he taught, was a special spin people put on things which do, in fact, have natural explanations. Like Tolstoy, he believed that miracles filled a need for certain uneducated people, but that they also were used by unscrupulous religious leaders to manipulate people.

Despite this apparent cynicism, Chaim would never have referred to himself as an atheist. Definitely not. There was much that transcended human understanding, and for Chaim, God was an appropriate title for all that he had yet to learn. Quaker teaching referred to this Godness as residing in the hearts of everyone. And Australian Quakerism tended to see the same force residing in all of nature as well. Such pantheism enabled Quakers to relate better to both primitive religions and to much of the New Age movement.

But the girl on the amateur video clip had Chaim rattled. The dream never came back after that, and her eyes ceased to haunt him. Yet he knew, as the whole world became occupied with rescuing American survivors, that he had experienced some kind of foreknowledge about this.

But why? And how had it happened? The whole experience went beyond any explanation that he could come up with, for even if it could be explained as a fantastic coincidence, something in his spirit would not let him accept that. He had definitely been party to something of great signficance, and he continued to feel the burden of responsibility that was a part of the original dream. It had all happened for a reason, and he needed to find it.

All through meeting the following Sunday, Chaim went over the facts, searching for an explanation.

Quaker meetings are held largely in silence, with short interruptions for "spoken ministry", which are brief moments when someone shares a few words that they