It's a lively evening, and everybody's in a great mood. Since this morning, I've been seeing people cleaning their houses because, you know, that's the first thing people do on a holiday. My neighbour's son comes running towards him, who is standing outside talking to another neighbour, "Papa, Mom is calling you!"
"For what?" he says.
"Something related to Dussehra.", he says and runs back into the house.
Like every other family, this child has become the messenger between mom and dad. A fast messenger who will transmit the messages as they are until he crosses a certain age. After that, some of the messages may get corrupted and start to be more biased towards his choices and interests. If he wants to go to the market, the messages will become, "Something related to this and asking when will you go to the market".
The family has a plan to go to the fair and then to witness Ravana Dahan, which I overheard while looking at them from my terrace. It's too early to start the preparations, but just like every other middle-class family, an outing is a major event, and it's on your mind as soon as the plans are made. Women, especially non-working women, are more excited, like his wife. It's one of the days when they can witness the outside world. They go out so rarely that whenever they walk around, you can hear them observing about how the surroundings have changed. "Municipal corporation widened this road?" they would say, looking at the road that was widened 3 weeks back. The son is excited too, and seeing them, I get excited as well. It has been a long time since I witnessed Ravana Dahana. When I was a child, our family would go just like this man is going. I would get excited just like this child, and I would call out to my father just like him when my mother would ask about the saree she wanted to wear.
A long time has passed since then. I think about it for some time while I watch the man go to his terrace to bring all the clothes from the roof. I start to roam around on my terrace, round after round. I think about the things that have changed since I was a child. Earlier, since the population was low, only one Ravana would be erected. Now, there are at least 7 that I know of. Fairs have changed as well. Earlier, they were too intimate, only confined to a small ground with limited things to offer. Now, swings have come up, and you can buy almost everything, including utensils, at a Dussehra fair. It comes to mind: should I just go and see how Dussehra has changed? Anyways, I am not doing anything today, and it's a day off. I risk being stuck in traffic, but then I can just walk to the ground, 3 km from my home. The feeling of seeing Dussehra gets stronger over time inside me, and after walking on the terrace for 20 minutes, I decide to go.
I reach the ground before Ravana is burned. I walk past dusty roads and noisy toys towards the sound of Ramleela. The last chapter is being acted out on the stage, barely 100 meters from the wooden structure. I walk past the usual shops and enter the chaotic ground with hundreds of stalls. A mixed smell of Aloo Tikki and Jalebi enters my nose. I walk past my temptation and finally reach the ground. Three tall wooden structures are standing just in front of me. Ravana, the mightiest, is in the center. Even if you ignore the extra heads, it's quite clear that most of the focus has been put on this particular structure. Meghnad and Kumbhkarana are thin, short, and fail to attract the gaze. I stand there looking at them, ignoring the firecrackers burning beside me. There is still time for Lord Rama to come from the stage and burn these structures. I am not hungry and definitely not in the mood to enjoy the swings. So, I start to observe the minor things in the structures. My focus, like everybody else, is the middle one. I start from the chest, colorfully painted with a flower in between. I can see fine lines of bamboo sticks and if I look closely, crackers are visible too from his chest. I move up towards his single stick neck, which was left without paint. Not because they were out of budget, but because a bamboo stick's color is similar to the skin tone. Why bother then? I move up towards a puppet-like wooden chin, then nose, and towards the eyes. Big, black circular eyes with white pupils. They are extremely attractive. I look at them and my eyes fix on them for a couple of minutes. Suddenly, they move! They move downwards towards me. I can't believe it. Is it for real? I look around, but everybody is busy enjoying. No one is looking up. I look at Ravana again, and a voice comes, "What are you looking at? They have come just to enjoy the burning. They will look only at that time."
I am amazed and awestruck.
"Who are you?" I ask
"Ravana! I represent Rajas. Passion and ambition."
"And me!" says the structure from the right. "I am Kumbhkarana! I represent tamas. Your worldly desires and consumerism."
"How are you speaking?" I ask
"We always do. Those who want to hear us, will hear us," says Ravana.
"What does that mean?" I ask
"These people are here for the noise. They are scared of their own thoughts and what they have become in their life. They want noise to suppress that. Noisy toys, noisy fairs, crackers, and a super noisy supershow. You are not here for the noise, so you can hear us."
"Hmmm. Did you really have ten heads? They are very distracting to me." I ask
"Hahaha. You see me as a projection of what people want to see. I was not this bulky and super handsome as they make me to be. I did not even look evil in my face. But you know, it sells in the market. No one would want to come to see a Ravana that looks feeble."
"And look at me," says Kumbhakarna, "I was 10 thousand feet tall. But since my brother was the king, they made me shorter and thinner than him, although my diet included an ocean equivalent of food."
"And your heads?"
"Obviously, they are not real. I had only one head, like you. But I had evil traits inside my head. They each represent one of them, like lust, anger, greed, pride, envy, etc. You know all this."
"But isn't it in all of us?"
"You all have ten heads. And most of you have heads bigger than mine," says Ravana.
"You all have me inside you as well. I was so big because of my desire for consumerism, gathering everything. I represent that dark side of humans who just want to have everything and never stop. That's why I was so big and tall. You all have Ravana and me inside you at once.", says Kumbhakarana.
"How bad that is!"
"You have seen the news."
"Does that mean we all have Ravana?" I ask them
"Don't insult me. You are far worse than I ever was."
I overhear the backstage where Ramleela is playing. Lord Rama is about to reach Lanka.
"There is still time," says Ravana
"Hmm. How long have people been burning you?"
"Not that long ago, actually. It started recently, only a few decades back."
"So how was Dussehra celebrated just after Lord Rama returned?" I asked curiously.
"Those people were intelligent. They celebrated Dussehra as it should be celebrated. Not through these shows where you do so much materialism and consumerism just beside the structure that literally represents that."
"Then?"
"As you said, Ravana and Kumbhakarna are inside you all. Dussehra is about burning that Ravana and Kumbhakarna and Meghnad, not these outside materialistic structures."
"And Lord Rama? If Dussehra represents Ravana inside us, who is Lord Rama?"
"That's inside you too. That's the kinder, truthful part of your mind."
"Lord Rama is inside me, and Ravana is inside me, and Kumbhkarana is inside me? Really?"
"Yes. But you won't see it as of now."
"Why not?"
"Like Lord Rama, you have to leave your comfortable palace and seek Ravana for some time."
"14 years?"
"Maybe. Who knows."
The sound of the chariot bringing Lord Rama is getting closer. Some crew members have started to put down ropes as the burning of Ravana comes closer.
"And what about when he returned back to the same life?"
"Once you kill the Ravana and Kumbhakarna inside you, that life won't entice you much. You can return to it, but it won't lure you."
"Why all this chaos then?"
"I told you. People just want a day to enjoy, escape their life, their inside Ravana, and get inside the noise. Here, they can't hear themselves. They can't think about themselves. They can see me, but all they would see is a wooden structure and nothing else. They will speak about truth winning over evil, but the next day evil will win in their life again. I am not a wooden structure. I am you. Look, Lord Rama has arrived."
I turn my head to the left.
"He will soon kill me, but with that, you should kill the Ravana inside you as well. That's what I represent, and that's what Dussehra means."
"And what about all these people? When will they kill the Ravana inside who are just here to record photos and have enjoyment?"
"They probably might never. Dussehra is not for enjoyment. It's a self-introspection day. You have fasted for 9 days; how many times did you think about the shoes you always wanted to buy? Nothing comes to mind during the fasting days, and on the 10th day, you kill your inner evil traits, as was expected by our sages. If they ever wanted to change, they would have heard me, like you do. I have been speaking since this event began."
"Am I the first to hear you?"
"No, there have been many. But we don't choose you; you chose to hear us."
A loud hissing sound comes from the left. Lord Rama has fired the arrow, going straight towards the navel of Ravana.
"You are about to die."
"Not me, the wooden structure. I will always live inside you all, like I have been living for so long."
The navel starts to burn the crackers, the first of which is the charkhi. This is standard. I look at him while he looks at me, smiling. "I won't die", echoes in my head. His chest starts to burn, and loud crackers are exploding. Everybody's phone is out, but Ravana is still looking at me. Some people are whistling, some are shouting, some are clicking photos of themselves.
"That's all the time we had," said Ravana.
"Remember, Ravana, Lord Rama and I are all inside you. It's your Ramayana; you can make a version of yourself. Let either Ravana win, or Lord Rama win; it depends on you. But they are both inside you. We all are you."
His head starts to burn when I shout, "Wait, doesn't he speak?" pointing to Meghnad.
"Well, he tried...." and an exploding sound takes away the rest of the sentence.
I come back to my house, passing through jam-packed roads with vehicles on which children are making my ears bleed. Everyone is playing with their toys and making noises louder than a speaker. I move past them, hoping not to get deaf on the way. I reach my home and have dinner. Later, I take a walk on the roof after dinner, and I see the same family coming back from the fair. I felt lucky going on foot; otherwise, I would be arriving at this time as well. I look at them. The son is holding a big sword, wearing lit horns, and whistling on a loud whistle.
"Next time, if you bring good marks, I will buy a bigger toy for you"
His son gets excited and asks, "Next time, I want a PS5"
"If you get good marks!"
"If I get good marks, I will get a PS5, Papa?"
"Yes, but only if you get good marks. A bigger sword, a bigger horn, a bigger whistle, and a PS5!"
"C'mon, it's too much," says his wife.
"It's Dussehra!" he says. "Festivals are for having a good time. When else will we buy stuff? It's time to celebrate"
"Dusshera Dussehra," the child repeats excitedly and goes inside.
"Where are you going? Don't you want to burst some crackers?" he says
"Yes, yes, I doooo!"
"Go and bring them"
The child runs inside the house. Throws the toys on the cot laid in the verandah and brings back a bag of crackers. It's time to celebrate. After all, it's Dussehra.
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