Two Holy Men

I haven't written an ounce of fiction in years. I don't aim to write it and its the rarest of occasions when it even comes to mind in a daydream. That said, I was sitting in a Jain temple in December and scribbled this out as the sun was setting in Maharashtra. Thought it was worth sharing here.

Two holy men from neighboring villages were traveling on the road. Coming from different directions, they arrived at the same village together on the same afternoon. As per their custom, each went to the local temple to sing prayers at sunset.

Both men had reputations for being the best singers in their respective towns and both walked into the same temple ready to give their offering in song. One arrived a few seconds before the other, bowed his head and began to sing his prayer. Mere moments later the other launched into his melody and the two voices rang aloud throughout the temple. Like a pair of clanging cymbals in discord, their voices clashed harmonically, rhythmically and in all imaginable ways. The cacophony drove the other patrons quickly out of the temple. Too stubborn, each singer continued his song until the temple emptied and both were completely exhausted and sore in the throat.

With the painful event concluded, they parted ways without a word and left the temple to their separate quarters for the night. Each thought to himself, “Every time I enter a temple and sing, everyone is blessed by my prayers, but today they were not. They left unhappy. If only that other man had not come, then I would have pleased everyone with my sweet songs. Surely, tomorrow he will have moved on and I will be able to sing my prayers alone.”

The next day, both men arrived at the temple for prayers at sunset. When they entered they noticed each other and raced to the shrine, leaping into song at the pint of kneeling. Again, one started a moment before the other and both, out of breath from their race, struggled through their prayers. All those in the temple left quickly, deeply irritated with the two holy men.

With the temple cleared for the second straight evening, each man glared furiously at the other and again stormed off in different directions. Each more determined than ever, the two men separately developed identical plots. “I will arrive at the temple early tomorrow. This way I can start my prayers alone and if the other man comes, he will already be too late. If he doesn’t sing, I can continue in peace. If he does sing, he will interrupt me and this interruption will look like pride. The people will discourage him and a send him packing.”

The next day, both men reached the temple and hour early, walking from different sides of town. They entered from different sides of the temple and arrived at the altar seconds apart and each launched into song. Exasperated and desperate, the sounds emerged and again the temple suffered from the tragic tones. The noise was so horrible that no one even entered the temple that day.

Cursing each other’s name, they each stormed off even more determined to win the developing competition. With renewed vigour, each man committed to outlast the other. For weeks their battle continued. Few people visited the temple. They could not believe that two holy men could feud so relentlessly.

Weeks turned into moons. Moons turned into seasons. Seasons turned into years. And even when the heat of summer and cold of winder kept other inside, both men would religiously visit the temple and sing their disgraceful duet in the emptiness.

The town’s morale began to fade and many gave up on God. Many saw God as the source of the problems. As the years rolled by even the temple workers and custodians could no longer take the wretched noise. They left to find other work in other villages. The temple fell into disrepair and no longer meant anything to anyone other than the two holy singers who continued to use it as their personal arena.

Although the two men were blind to many things, they could see that the people no longer visited the temple or prayed – nor did they treat each other with the neighbourly love that used to emanate from the temple grounds and their hearts. Hope had left town and faith had been replaced by apathy and cynicism.

Dismayed, each man decided to try to see if he could spy on the other to find a way to end the competition once and for all and thereby restore to the people what had been lost.

One morning, one of the men snuck over to the other’s small flat and watched through a hole in the wall as he washed his clothes. While doing the chore, the man began to sing the most beautiful song the listening ears had ever heard:

Join us together in love
For we are of one mother
We are of one father
We are children born in love and of love
Born to love

It sounded vaguely familiar and the listening man strained to place it. After some minutes he realized. This was the prayer that the man had been singing everyday at the temple.

Shocked, the man hurried home and sat at his table thinking. “What a glorious voice this man has. He is right to be singing at the temple. I should have noticed years ago, but I have been too interested in my own song. Tonight I will pack up my things to leave. Tomorrow I will apologize to him, let him know that I’m leaving and that he has well earned the place of honor as singer in the temple.” He set to work, singing as he readied his things for the onward journey

But as he prepared, the other man wandered over to spy in on his competitor. Peering through the gate, he head a most joyous tone – the sound of someone no longer burdened by the weight of suffering:

Let my heart be pure enough
To embrace my brother
In bold and delicate love

His heart warmed with the music, but it confused his head. “I know this song,” the man muttered to himself. A few more repetitions and it clicked in. “My God! That’s the song he’s been singing in the temple these many years. Surely God has given this man the voice of angels.” The man continued to listen until slowly walking back to his house, ashamed.

As he walked he thought, “That voice deserves a temple to sing in alone. He felt clear to pack up and leave the town at once, stopping first to apologize to his enemy before heading out. He too set to work, getting ready for the journey.

The next day, both left for the temple to meet the other at evening prayers. As usual, they arrived within seconds of each other.

One spoke first, “Brother, I have wronged you. I’ve made this temple a place of my personal agenda and I believe that its your voice that should be singing here and not mine. I’ve come to apologize to you. Please forgive me.”

“No, no!” the other said. “It is I who have committed the crime. I’ve held a bitter feeling in my heart against you and made a competition between the two of us. I’m sorry for this. I believe that it’s your voice that rightly belongs in this temple. Please forgive me.”

For the first time in years, both men stood in the temple and there was complete silence.

“I forgive you.”
“I forgive you.”
“But my dear friend, what do we do now? Should one of us stay? Should we both go?”
“Dear brother, let’s pray to see if we get some direction.”

Both men kneeled down together and humbly began to sing their prayers underneath their breath at the same time. But something had changed. Their hearts and attitudes had moved. Their postures had shifted. And now they were listening.

Instead of singing to feature their own voice and blast the other to the wall, the modesty of each voice brought gentleness into the air and painted the walls with colors. And something incredible occurred. As each man listened, he began to vary his melody to fit with the other, slowly developing into balanced harmonies first whispering and eventually soaring together as two voices in one. A flawless duet rang throughout the town, resonating with creation.

In the street, a small child heard the song. He picked up his ball and wandered into the delapidated temple, sitting next to the men, cross-legged with his eyes closed. Listening. Minutes later, his mother, frantically looking for him, entered the temple. Relieved to see him, she sat next to him and caressed his head as they both listened to the music. Having not seen his wife for a while, a husband searched the streets of the town in search of her. Eventually he came to the temple and sat with his family, joy-filled by the music.

And like this, the temple slowly began to fill with people, song, faith and hope. And the music played for many, many years.