Rendezvous with Lord Rama

Jug Suraiya 

Lord rama is sitting at his desk in one of the corner offices reserved in Heaven for the most deserving of occupants. Seated in the visitor’s chair across from him is his brother, Lakshman, who is wearing an identity card on a strap looped around his neck saying ‘GUEST PASS’.

Rama: I’ve asked you to come up here and see me so that you can brief me as to what all’s been happening in my name down on Earth, Lakshman. So, tell me. What has been happening that’s got to do with me?

Lakshman: Well, the Supreme Court verdict regarding who the land belongs to in the Ayodhya mandir/masjid case….

Rama (cutting him short): No, no, Lakshman, please. I don’t want to hear any more about courts and Ayodhya. Indeed, Ayodhya seems to have more courts than Wimbledon. What, I really want to know is if those Earth people have finally decided who I am. 

Lakshman: Who you are? What do mean? You’re Rama, of course, who else?

Rama: Yes, yes. I know I’m Rama, dash it all. And you know I’m Rama. But who exactly is Rama, according to Earth people? I mean, is Rama — that’s me — supposed to be a god or a human being? That’s the crux of the matter.

Lakshman: I’m not sure if I know what you’re driving at.

Rama: What I’m driving at is very simple. If, according to Earth people, I am God, then why on Earth, or why on Earth, are they insisting I was born in Ayodhya, which they call Ram Janmabhoomi, and that’s why the temple has to be built there, and only there? Because, if I’m a god, like they say I am, then, by definition, I’m immortal, being beyond both birth and death. Which means that I could not have been born in Ayodhya, or anywhere else, for that matter. QED. 

Lakshman: Q, as you say, ED. May be Earth people think of you as being a bit of both. You know, both a god and a human.

Rama: No, I’m sorry, but that just won’t do. They can’t have it both ways. That’s like having your cake and eating it too. Or, rather, giving me their prasad laddoo and eating it too.

Lakshman: I see what you mean. Well, let’s just say that Earth people think you’re human, but a very special type of human, and that you were born in Ayodhya, where they want to build your temple. 

Rama: I’m afraid that won’t wash either. Because if I’m human, even a very special type of human, no one should go around building a temple for me. Nor should they go around asking people to say ‘Jai Shri Rama’ to prove they’re good Indians. I mean, there are other special people. But no one goes around wanting to build temples for them, or asking people to say ‘Jai Shri Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi’, for instance, to prove their bona fides. 

Lakshman: You’ve got a point there. In fact, you’ve got as many points as there are on a compass, even a moral compass. So what should we — or, rather, what should you — do about it?

Rama:: What I’m going to do about is I’m going to appoint a special advocate and plead my case to decide, once and for all, whether I’m a god or human, not in any court of law but in the court of public opinion, as represented by social media, like Facebook, and Twitter, and Instagram.

Lakshman: Awesome. And who’s your special advocate?

Rama (as another person enters): My special advocate is the guy who started this whole thing to begin with. Lakshman, let me introduce you to Maharishi Valmiki.