Eroteme Volume 3

devtas and asuras where there were only…things, or no-things. Though there was some sense in locating impurities caused by a bathroom near our kitchen or mandir But my parents acknowledged him immediately by estimating the cost of redoing much of our home. It would resolve our circumstances. And as long as I got to hear prospects of a room to myself, I was happy.

With my same indifference and my parents’ enduring devotion, we followed him out onto the porch. He pointed the Vaastu-meter toward one side of the garden, and apparently, my sustainable composting practices there did not produce fertile manure but drove away Lakshmi, or, simply, money. It was to be removed as soon as possible, he commanded. My parents eyed me, and I obeyed the compromise that had to be made. Now, this little “urban jungle” of mine, I thought proudly or maybe cautiously, interested him as he looked around, stepping curiously. He slowed down and stopped. The next few seconds were instantaneous but also excruciatingly long: standing diagonally opposite to me, this man disregarded any obligatory eye contact, being in the position of a guest, with my mother, father, or me. With a self-entitled authority, he shot his hand straight, catching hold of the tree at the corner; his precise movements made them seem planned from the moment he set foot onto the porch. In a merciless manoeuvre, he grabbed the stem of the young Amrapali, which was only as thick as his middle finger; using his fingers to grip and his thumb to coerce, the mango snapped into two. Dangling on the thin bark that didn’t tear, the dead remains spoke of the coveted violence that just happened. Somewhere, a bird halfchirped. “Why did he do this?!” I interjected vehemently. I could not understand. I just planted that tree. It was just a tree. That tree was my dream, and I was going to relive those years when we used to live with my grandparents, picking mangoes together. That tree was also logged to death, merely because it had reached the overhanging electric cables. I teared up, and I shouted and sobbed louder and louder. Seeing me, Daata asked him, rather monotonously, as to why he did this. “Vaastu forbids mango trees in a home. And as soon as I looked at this garden, I knew that you would never remove it.”

Perhaps my cries and wailings were inaudible, or perhaps my parents and the “man of divinity” were deaf. But certainly, my child-self has not forgotten the transgression of either the “guest” or the “god.” And that summer passed by in the refuge of the soil that I smelt, lying down with my hands under my head, looking up at the sky, and hearing the same sporadically echoing sounds of negativity from the walls of my home.

Sociological Snippets

The Bystander Effect: The more people present, the less likely anyone helps.

In emergencies, adding more bystanders actually reduces the chance that any one of them will intervene; each person assumes someone else will act. Known as the bystander effect, it's one of social psychology's most replicated findings.

Reference: Darley & Latané, 1968 · Journal of Personality and Social Psychology.