The Celestial Realms

“Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional” – Trilok cited Haruki Murakami.

Two and half millennium ago when Buddha preached, “Pain in life is inevitable but suffering is not. Pain is what the world does to you, suffering is what you do to yourself. Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.”, he might have not known that a bunch of mountain bikers will be charged by it.

There are things, things which humans feel not, because their feelings are interfered by the spectra of sufferings. But once we mortals move beyond the realms of sublime pain to a higher frequency a new horizon awaits us. A celestial horizon, where just bliss abounds.

But the path to this celestial realm is not a flower bed. Some renounce and some celibate, some labor and some meditate but some pursue their passion to reach this celestial realm.

Swami Vivekananda was so true when he said “One can be closer to God by playing football than reading Gita”. I didn’t understand it when I read it in my childhood, but last Saturday, on my mountain biking trip to Kusur Pathar, I understood what he meant.
Murphy being my best friend, the day went on as expected (My Friend Murphy once said to me “If anything can go wrong, it will” but he whispered in my ears “But not too wrong though, that you can’t take it buddy”). It was a group of six for the trip - Trilok (he slept late the previous night, so he would come by local train and join us at Kanhe Phata), Gagan (he got pulled by the Jain temple on way and went there, he too was bit tired so wanted to return early; next time I too will visit that marvelous temple on way to Talegaon) Praveen, Rohit, Soumya and Me.
Breakfast soon followed puncture repairing, time flew off to Trilok’s arrival. We were gossiping near the railway line check gate and suddenly some alarm went off; I was looking around when Praveen howled at me to get away…. It was then I realized that the iron gate was closing and my skull was in its line. I moved away in time to escape a premature end to my trip.
Soon Trilok arrived and the real journey started. The long violet mountain ridge visible through the mist towards north, stretching 15 miles from east to west, was our destination; people call it Kusur Pathar, but for me it became the gates to the celestial realm.
It’s was 11 am when we reached the base of the Mountain at Nagathali. I recall, I uttered, “If we drag the bikes up nonstop, we will reach the top in half an hour.”
But soon we realized how hypothetical the usage of the word ‘nonstop’ was; Usage of the word Panting would have being more pragmatic.
Two hours later we hit the trail at the top of the mountain, exhausted but full of spirit. The slithering trail on top of Kusur Pathar is a bicyclist’ paradise and we started grooving it.
The words Trilok quoted had charged us and we were oblivious to anything called Pain. Redemption from the sufferings was the order of the day.
But things not always go as expected; people blame it on fate; I being a non believer, consider it an outcome of the complex equation governing this universe. And this time because of the outgrowth of shrubs I was not able to find the right way and we were lost. I asked everyone to wait at a place and I went to find the right trail. I went left, I went right, I tumbled over something and was startled imagining it as a black panther but after balancing myself it looked like a moist log to me. Shielding the face from thorny bushes with my arms I roved in hunt for the way out but I reached the same place again. Again I took the trail going down, but it went on down and down to the valley other side of the mountain.
Even after half an hour’s search I was not able to find the way out; but then, I heard a hitting sound.... a sound which only a human being can create. We moved in that direction on a narrow path full of mire, skidding and slipping, lifting the bikes on shoulder and finally we reached a clearing where there was a beautiful stream running down the valley. Few village women were washing cloths down the stream. I quenched my thirst from the chilling water from the stream. We asked for directions from the village women and soon they arranged for a guide to take us to the right trail.
A short walk with our guide took us back to the right trail, it was time for the return journey. Trilok and Soumya downhilled to Nagathali, rest three of us dragged the bike down, Praveen for his bike’s breaks were not tight enough, and Rohit and I because the tires were flat again.
At Nagathali, Soumya and Trilok did some jumps, and I kept on clicking them with Rohit’s camera. We met some kids and a old man and chit chatted with them. A Tempo took me and Rohit along with our bikes to a garage on highway, while rest cycled back to Kanhe station. But the damage the thorns had done to the tubes were beyond repair. We moved to Kanhe station to take the local back to Pune.
We were waiting for 6.40 pm local at the platform when Trilok got a call from a common friend and she asked how we are so late when the plan was to reach back by afternoon, and Trilok replied, “It was Bani’s plan, so it’s expected that we may not return early”, which Soumya rephrased, “It was Bani’s plan, so it’s expected that we may not return”.
The local started before Praveen could get in with his bike, but thanks to people he and his bike were dragged in, the train too had slowed down seeing our plight. The day’s ride had ended. It was the luggage compartment, I guess the cleanest compartment in the whole train. My heart had pacified, it was a day which could have gone really bad but nothing went too wrong, I woke up in time even though I had slept late, my skull escaped the gate in time, I got the stream to quench my thirst, we found the villagers when we were lost, we got a tempo when we had flat tires, we caught the local on time. But then I thought why do people complain about small things…. It’s raining, it’s sunny, it’s chilling, the food is not good, they look for mineral water everywhere they go…. People try to find pain in small things. Complaining has become a second nature to us, even I am complaining that people complain. But last Saturday I didn’t complain about anything. It was a day that comes once in a lifetime and I wanted to live every moment of it, I loved dragging the bike up, I loved hunting for the way out when we were lost in the jungle and I loved what I did after getting down the train.
Praveen had got down at Pimpri, Soumya and Trilok would be going Khadki and Shivaji Nagar; Rohit and I bid then farewell at Kasarwadi station in Pune.
Something makes me excited about black sky and more so when the ground below is moist. Rohit boarded an auto as he had to replace the tube the same night and return the rented bike the next day. Now it was just me, the black sky and the moist ground. The Four kilometer walk home, with my bike for company, singing love songs to her is something I will never forget. She has given me a lot, taught me a lot. She showed me what pain is, she showed me what happiness is. ”. She has made me immune to pain, she has taken me higher from the spectra of sufferings to the horizon that people take a lifetime to see.
Last Saturday she took me to the celestial realm and then she asked me, “Can you tell me what the difference between pain and happiness is?” And I replied “Pain is the veil, the angel called Happiness hides behind”.