My brother reminded me that on 16th of August 1886, Sri Ramakrishna Paramhansa (Thakur), a divine saint, had left his body and I became emotional. Something clicked in my heart and now, I am writing a post here. What I have written here is a piece of fiction based wholly on my emotions wherein I have tried to put myself in the shoes of a little devotee, a regular visitor to Thakur who would go with all her mundane problems and unfulfilled desires to Him, and what happens when she receives the news of Thakur’s mahasamadhi.

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I wiped off the sweat from my forehead with the pallu and quickly washed up the last bowl left as the dinner was done. The sky had already grown dark and I lit a kerosene lamp that hung upon the wall that gave off a bright yellow light to the gloomy room, enough for one to locate things. A few bugs gathered around the lamp, and the kutcha-street outside made up of loose bricks was taken over by jugnus and I got busy putting my little sister to sleep on the bedding that lay on the floor. I sat with my legs crossed beside her head and began to fan her with an old newspaper with one hand and run my fingers across her hair with the other while singing a lullaby and soon, sleep took over her tired little mind.

As I was about to get up to make my mother’s bed, somebody knocked at our wooden door with the thick iron rings attached on them. Hoping that my mother was back from the bazaar, I opened the door to receive her, instead it was the milkman who showed up here for the second time today. With his eyes huge with anxiety and sweat all across his face, I asked with some concern, “Ki holo dada?” (What happened, brother?) and he managed to speak in a broken tone, “Thakur aar nei…” (Thakur is no more). I stared at his tearful eyes with my mouth open and my stomach sank. I forgot to blink for a while or to say anything to him and he paddled off to the street again, disappearing among the jugnus and I stood there numb in a puzzled chaos of the mind.

Slowly, with a confused head and a refusal in my spirit, I locked the door behind and came back into the room. Looking around at everything, suddenly, nothing made sense and I felt as if I was all alone, I was left with nobody. Running my eyes around, I wanted to cling on to something and I looked at the framed black-and-white picture of Thakur on the wall on which the lamp was throwing its choicest golden light. I had been looking at this picture since many years but today, I seemed unusual because Thakur’s eyes seemed happy. Afterall, he had left his body, the cancer, the sins of his devotees and he was united with Maha Shakti, the Cosmic Mother, Mother Divine! His face shone starkly as He was free, and I felt that through that old photo, Thakur was saying to me, “ Aami to ekhone-i aachi!” (I am here itself) I refused to believe this emotion and fell down on my knees with a loud thud, staring blankly at His photo and suddenly, this busy householder did not have any work to do and no life left in her heart. I felt my hand lose for I didn’t know what to do with this body of mine and my bangles clicked together in unison signaling the futility. My voice had left me for I no longer knew what was there to say anymore and the tears were my only expression in my shocked self and I looked at Thakur with intense longing and the world felt small. I felt alone. Who else was there to lose? I had no thought, I had no sorrow, I had nothing but the tears of refusal.

Beside Thakur’s picture, was Maa Sharada’s photo put there but it was plunged in darkness as if the kerosene lamp forgot her today and I sat there imagining how Maa would be feeling as her lovely husband had left the world. A world that refused to see divinity in a woman, Thakur worshipped Maa as Shodashi Devi! Her loving husband had never raised his voice at her even once and all he gave was respect and love. Poor Maa! As a woman, I felt for her womanly woe. How sad she must be! Who else she had other than He? Who was there to console her? How will she manage everything? Or maybe, Gurudeb had now escaped his body to be with her for eternity in the subtle form? My throat was full and my heart ached for her as well as for myself and suddenly, somebody knocked at the door again.

I wiped off my tears, gathered myself and received my mother who entered with a lot of chirpiness enquiring about what all work was done, what all was still left, what she had purchased from the market and I stood Infront of her lifeless, like a wood. Sensing my quietude, she looked at me and I broke it to her, “Thakur…” She stood motionless, dropped all the vegetables there itself and stared at me with an unknown uncertainty. Life was not there anymore but this survival had to go on and at that night, the two women of the house sat with their backs against the wall, without speaking a word to anyone and the lamp shining through their tears. I could not see anything Infront of me and all the wisdom that ‘Thakur is the Universe himself’ had left me at that very moment. Suddenly, I wanted to see Him more, meet him more and I closed my eyes, for memory was all I was left with and where else could I find him without going inward? He was now in my heart, and I clung to His thought more than my dear life.

Sri Ramakrishna Sharanam!