‘Because what he did was so wrong. He has ruined my mother’s life. He has
never loved me.’
‘I am not saying he did the right thing. I am asking you to forgive him.’
‘Why?’
‘For you. Forgiving doesn’t make the person who hurt you feel better, it makes
you feel better.’
I pondered over his words.
‘Close your eyes again,’ Guruji said. ‘Imagine you have bags on your head.
They are bags of anger, pain and loss. How do they feel?’
‘Heavy,’ I sighed.
‘Remove them from your head one by one,’ Guruji said. ‘Imagine you are
wearing a thick cloak that is wearing you down. Pardon the hurt others have
caused you. What they did is past. What is bothering you today are your current
feelings that come from this load. Let it go.’
Strange as Guruji’s metaphors were, I felt compelled to obey the imagery in my
mind. My head felt lighter.
‘And surrender to God,’ he went on. ‘You don’t control anything or anyone.’
‘I don’t understand,’ I said.
‘Do you control your life? Your life depends on so many internal organs
functioning right. You have no control on them. If your lungs don’t cooperate, if
your kidneys fail, if your heart stops, it is all over. You’ll drop dead now. God has
chosen to give you the gift of life, surrender to him.’
He kept me in meditation for the next few minutes.
‘And now, you are free to go,’ Guruji smiled.
I opened my eyes. The sharp afternoon sun shone on Guruji’s face. He went
inside and brought a small cup with grey ask. He dipped his index finger in the
ash and marked my forehead.
‘Thank you’ I said as he blessed me with his hand on my head.
‘You are welcome,’ he said. ‘Anything else I can help you with?’
‘Yes, which way is Hotel L’Orient?’
nora
(Nora)
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