The king dressed as a beggar

The king dressed as a beggar

Yesterday night, I had a dream.

First, I was a king dressed as a beggar, walking in an alien land. It was an alien land, yes. A land filled with mocking laughs and malicious comments. A land that looked so alien even to the one who was ruling it.

Some laughed at my dress and others at my status. A beggar, they called to insult me – as if it was just not another dress that men wear. They did not know I was the king dressed as a beggar.

‘Lucky am I,’ I thought. For I was a king dressed as a beggar and not a beggar dressed as a king. For now, at every mocking laugh, I could rejoice. Feel the identity as a king dissolve with the identity of a begger until both of them became as irrelevant and meaningless as two of my robes in my possession.

Next, I was a wanderer. Pushed about by my destiny like a particle of dust caught in the wind.

There was nowhere to go, nothing to be done. I just moved on and on and on wherever I was led. And I wanted nothing. I didn’t want food. Didn’t want sleep. All I wanted was to keep moving and be operated by the master-force. All I wanted was to dissolve my will along with myself and be like the morning leaf dancing in the pattering rain.

I met people and heard their stories until I became a part of their stories. And with every telling, the story started becoming real.

I was the dragon with a fiery breath. I was the prince charming who slew the dragon. I was also the almond-eyed princess waiting to be saved. I killed myself to save myself. I was triumphant, dead and ecstatic all at once.

Every story ever told became I – the lonely wanderer. Half-formed fears and inexplicable sorrows that were beautifully interlaced with patterns unexpected joy and sudden happiness formed a kaleidoscope inside me. Then everything appeared as a pattern. Sorrow, trouble, happiness, ecstasy were merely patterns in this ceaseless tale of human life.

Then, I became a child, enjoying the patterns – lost in its beauty.

I realized the dark shades were the very reason why the lighter shades looked so beautiful. The apparent errors became works of art and chaos was all just a part of the higher reason.

As a child, there was nothing wrong. Nothing good or bad. Everything just added up and created patterns. And the patters simply fascinated me.

When I heard the story again, I again became a part of the story. But this time, when I was the dragon, I did not want anything. There was no malice – I was just playing my part. I was just a part of the higher scheme of things. I became the prince and I felt no anxiety. I slew the dragon and I felt neither triumph nor pity. It became just another game – where today declares me a winner. I was also the princess – and I did not wait to be saved. There was no one to save me. And nothing to save me from.

Just another story. Just another pattern.

Karthik is a Software Engineer working in Infosys, based in Chennai, India. Has been practicing Sahaja Yoga and enjoying the many blessings of the divine connection since 2002. Loves writing stories, meditation and playing flute.

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4 comment(s) so far, want to say something now?

  • Vivek
    Nov 12, 2009
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  • Dwijaha
    Nov 12, 2009
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    A wonderful work! keep it up Karthik!
    Play of time
    What I should write of dreams that leave traces
    Nights have become endless drawn across the memory lanes
    Various moments glitter in the evening sky
    Some shines; Some fades
    Gone with the wind-
    colors and forms
    But what can take away
    The treasures buried deep within
    Emotions pour out raining
    Earth bear them in fragrance
    Mind change tracks, its ways and means
    What all these means to the Heart
    who just watch all these speechless
    Boats travel as oars pedal on
    Shades move on as clouds of time move on
    Mist is dead and born thousand times
    cool moments lingers on, though gone traceless
    As play ends, costume changes
    Characters mist away in an unnoticed silence
    Who knows what roles follow on
    As stage is set and lights on
    New dreams take forms;
    as the next play begins..



  • Ramesh
    Nov 14, 2009
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    Thoroughly enjoyed reading your nicely scripted piece.
    Look forward to many such pieces from you.



  • Karthik Yoganathan
    Nov 14, 2009
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    @Dwijaha – Lovely poem 🙂



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