Following the just gone-by Janmashtami, which marks the birth of Krishna, it was clearly evident that no one was wanting to get out of the “Bhakti” mood, set by the echoing hymns sung in praise of Krishna. In the present days, where everyone is looking to take an escape route to spirituality, such a festival is no less than a boon. When the National Capital was all dressed up with festive lights, draped in saffron, white and green to celebrate Independence Day and Janmashtami that fell on the same day this year, a colleague witnessed something, which was strange yet blissful at the same time.
After leaving the office, our colleague had fixed a meeting with an acquaintance of his, who promised to meet him at a coffee shop in Connaught Place. After waiting for two long hours, he finally received a text message calling off the meeting as the friend had some important chores to finish. Despite his irritation, our colleague decided to have a cup of coffee alone anyway.
En route to the coffee shop, he heard a very melodious tune being played on a flute. Listening carefully, he recognised it to be a sweet bhajan. He liked it so much that he followed the tune in the near-empty and calm corridors of Connaught Place. Following the musical tune, our colleague came upon a very young lad, most likely in his early 20s. He was a bansuri-seller, playing some old songs on his flute. Impressed with his talent, our colleague got talking with him and told him that it almost felt like Lord Krishna himself was playing the tune in the cattle grounds of Vrindavan. Listening to this, the bansuri seller gently smiled and then walked away without saying anything.
Our colleague was left puzzled and amazed at this action of the young lad. He wondered how would anyone feel if he met God? He concluded, if God were to be defined as an abode of tranquillity, love and inner peace, then he had just seen his reflection in the bansuri seller, for sure.