Rituals from the East
The night stood still as an eerie silence engulfed the entire region. A thick fog descended upon the place isolating it from the rest of the earth. As the twelfth gong was sounded, the prisoner with his hands tied was dragged from his warm cell into the freezing night. The ritual had begun…
It had origins in the land south of the Himalayas, a land surrounded by mysticism. With the passage of time, wandering nomads had traveled eastwards in search of greener pastures, some in search of knowledge and others in search of fortune until they had crossed the ocean. They had settled quickly, adopting the local customs and beliefs. But this ritual stayed, unchanged by the passage of time.
As the prisoner looked up, the sight chilled his heavy heart. The mob had gathered silently, their piercing gaze aimed at him. It was an auspicious day. The sacrifice had to be made. Strong hands gripped him and pulled him towards the center. The mob grew restless at the sight of the prisoner and slowing the chanting began, shattering the silence of the night.
The prisoner looked around confused. He had known each one of them. In fact, they were the ones who were closest to him. But tonight they had a mad gleam in their eyes as if they were hypnotized and didn’t recognize him. His feeble cries were drowned by the roar of the mob. He realized with a sinking heart all efforts to escape would be futile. He stood in the middle, hands tied, head bowed resigned to his cruel fate.
The prisoner was first cleansed with milk and aromatic juices were poured upon him in a ritualistic manner. Then the stoning began. All things considered, repelling to the five senses were thrown upon him as he stood helplessly shivering in the cold. Numerous hands clasped his feeble arms and legs and lifted him in the air, as the rest of the mob kicked him with every ounce of strength they could muster, laughing in glee watching the victim writher in pain.
The sacred offering and the knife were bought and placed on the table. The candles were light as silence swept across the room. The knife swung…The mob happily gorged on the food, as the victim lay helplessly covered in a pool of red ketchup….
Vidhatha Vivekananda
Programmer. Interested in nature and philosophy.