The Miracle Boy

THE MIRACLE BOY

I finally accepted my friend Sushma's long standing invitation to visit her at the Baldwani village in Uttarakhand. Nestled on the edge of a hill I was enchanted by the view of the valley that my bedroom window afforded.

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Early morning I heard a commotion outside the house— which was one among ten concrete houses -- the others being huts with thatched roofs. The village had a population of maybe a thousand.

I got into my tracksuit and went downstairs to see what was agitating the small community.

Sushma translated for me what was being animatedly discussed in Garhwali .

It seemed that a young baba called Maakhan chor aged about seven had come to the village. Apparently he was a divine child. Born in a stable in Brindavan he used to frolic in the same patch of sand where Baby Krishna used to play. He had also been credied with the ability to perform a miracle—he could convert water into butter merely by staring at a pot of water.

My well travelled pilgrim relatives had told me about this hallowed place and I had nursed a secret desire to at least sit on that grassy stretch.The baby had, it was whispered, qualities reminiscent of baby Krishna –especially his love for stealing butter. Apparently this trait had endeared the boy to people far and wide.And with a miracle to his credit he was quickly accepted as an Avataar of Lord Krishna.

The simple people of Baldwani naturally felt blessed that such a divine child had descended on their sleepy village. I was told that the Maakhan Chor baba would bless everyone at ten in the morning .

Sushma was keen that I too accompany her with her family to the village edge where the baba had camped with his parents and a few hangers- on. We quickly grabbed a breakfast of toast and imported butter.

At around ten we walked to the village egde The atmosphere was electric , The boy wonder was inside a tent.

'He is doing pooja to Lord Krishna' said the boy's father .The villagers looked at each other with awe

'Jai Sri Krishna' shouted one man.

' Jai Sri Krishna' joined a thousand others in a chorus so loud thatit might have a reached the plains.

It was ten minutes to ten by my watch.

'What is the time ?' asked the boy's mother

I told her.

'Be patient son ' said the lady with love as a mother would to an impatient boy.

Finally the great divine child emerged from his tent .The crowd fell at his feet, women wept with joy, parents flung their small children to the feet of the divine kid.

I stood aside ,reluctant to touch the 'divine' feet ,being a sceptic . Sushma's father pushed me forward till I found the 'divine' feet.

The child was rotund as could be expected from someone who was fed on a heavy diet of butter.and who did little exercise more taxing than rolling on holy sand. I was sure I could not have lifted the child in my arms –so heavy he appeared to me.

Then came the announcement all of us were eagerly waiting for. I traslate that into English here.

' This divine baby is an avatar of Lord Krishna.As you may be aware this child eats nothing but butter—in fact he has refused to eat anything else since he was born.He will show you his God given powers by converting water to butter merely by staring at a pot of water for ten minutes. As you are aware this pot of water was give to us by the sarpanch—may Lord Krishna bless him and this village'

Cries of 'Jai Sri Krishna' again rent the air

The boy sat before the pot and began his ten minute exercise of staring at it.

The countdown began. I switched on the timer in my mobile phone which had a filmy ringtone .

At the stroke of the twelth minute my phone rang with the snog '' Badi dere hui nandala'

The baby's mother raced towards me

'How dare you disturb my baby's concentration .This is ghor paap .Today he cannot produce any butter' she declared and stomped away.

The crowd was very angry with me .I had denied them the rare experience of seeing a miracle.

The fact that I was the guest of Sushma's family may have saved the day. They were the biggest land owners in the district.

The crowd melted away feeling hurt that more than an hour's wait had been futile.

We returned to Sushma's house and I withdrew to my room overlooking the valley . I had just about started dozing when I heard another commotion.

I ran downstars.

Sushma's family was surrounded by what looked like the wealthier people in Baldwani.

It transpired that on returning to their houses they discovered many valuables missing. Most intriguingly butter kept in earthern pots was missing.

Sushma ran to her kitchen to see if her supply of imported butter kept in the refrigerator was safe.The refrigerator door was locked.

'Where is the key?' she screamed at her mother

'Here it is' I said fishing it out of my pocket.

The police are looking for the Maakhan Chor baba

K.R.RAVI