Monday, April 18, 2011

Prologue - I

"Is everything ready? Its bad news from the fronts. We have little time before the evacuation," whispered the earnest voice under the saffron hood, gesturing a greeting to his companion. His calloused hands were barely visible outside his flowing robe.
"Yes, the final stage of the procedure is underway at Vishwasthal. Hurry on there while I wrap up here," said the seated figure after he broke out of his trance.
The younger man knew he would not get to observe the greatest migration of his people but his job was one of much greater importance.
The old robed man hobbled down the stone altar, the cobbled steps worn but still showing the intricate artistry that they had borne for many a century. He took a last look back just as the youthful acolyte settled into a deep trance. The sounds of the nocturnal fauna and the feeble light of the moon were the only signs of life on this cold night. The man hurried along soothing his mind with a silent prayer.
As he approached his destination, the mellifluous chorus of a thousand voices in unison rang in his elderly ears. The dulcet drone of the chants were as mesmerizing as they were powerful. The bright lights of a million lamps soon came into view as he came around the bend and exited the thick jungle into an enormous clearing. At the heart of this clearing stood a grand pedestal with a trio of stone thrones. On them were seated three simply clad men, in white, blue and black. Around them thousands of men women and children all echoed the chant in perfect harmony and intense concentration.
"... He created life from the words of eternity ... "
"... He maintained life from the balance of the spirit ..."
"... He renewed life from the destruction of the old ..."
"... They sustain the promise of life for us and our children ..."
The old man proceeded to the pedestal and walked up to one of the men dressed in white. He prostrated himself before his better and said,
"The last acolyte of the creator has begun his task. I will now take my place among our people and we can complete the ceremony."
With that, he walked into the crowd and added his voice to the chorus. The three men stood around the pedestal and raised their hands in unison.
"... Hail to the creator, blessed of life ..."
"... Hail to the preserver, gentle and kind ..."
"... Hail to the destroyer, just and strong ..."
"... Save us our doom ..."
"... Take us now ..."
"... Take us now ..."
"... Take us now ..."
The mass of humanity chanted vigorously these last words until it peaked to a crescendo, there was a bright flash of light and everything went out. NO sound, NO light and NO sign of the glorious pedestal. The sounds of the surrounding forest assaulted the sudden silence.
It had been done!!

No comments:

Post a Comment