By Megha Bajaj
An allegory about the moon and the sun, which reflects our own relationship with the source
Clouds were her best friends. She spent much of her time playing hide and seek with them. But the naughty ones would often run ahead and challenge her to race them, and she did try, but alas, she could not leave her fenced palace. They could run around freely, but she had to wait, stand still, and light up the dark, dark, world beneath her. The highlights of her life, however, were the little children so much like her, who looked up from their windows sleepily and smiled at her. Or a poet admiring her beauty and writing about her. She enjoyed all the attention, as any little girl would – sometimes she blushed with happiness and had to ask a cloud to cover the pinkness from her fair cheeks. She liked to call herself Evangelina, because it was just such an exotic name. Everyone else, however, called her Ms. Moon, plain old boring Moon. Luckily, she could call herself whatever she wanted.
She often wondered who her parents were. As she lit the way for a mother walking her son back from the garden, holding onto his tiny hand protectively, she would be filled with a sense of longing. One fine day, as she sat on a little black cloud and brushed her silver tresses, she felt a sudden rush of warmth. A man, much older than she was, with a radiant face, was sitting calmly between the mountains. He was so beautiful and bright that she almost had to cover her eyes to see him. As she observed him, her entire being underwent a transformation. She felt like she was glowing from within. She asked him, hesitantly, “Do I know you?”
He smiled, and replied, “Yes, you know me. I have been around since the beginning of time. I will be around until the end of time. And you are, because I am.” Missing a heartbeat, Moon asked the splendid creature before her, shyly, “Are you my daddy? Are you my Creator? What is your name?”
The man smiled gently, and slowly, began to disappear beneath the mountains. Moon held out her arms in desperation – she didn’t want him to leave. Before she could protest, he whispered, “So many questions my dear one. Yes, I am your Creator. You are, in fact, a reflection of me. It is my light that shines through you and illuminates the world. I am called the Sun. I must leave now – hold the questions in your heart, little girl. Soon, they shall all be answered. We shall meet again. That’s a promise.”
The Moon could not sit still. She wanted to leave – the glamorous palace, her wonderful job of lighting up the world and find the Sun. For so long she had yearned to find her Creator, her daddy, and now that she had, should she just be made to wait? She cried as she had never cried before and made the clouds cover up for her so that the world would think it was raining, and not know that her heart was being broken into a million pieces.
She lay listlessly in the sky that evening. She covered herself completely, allowing only a crescent of her being to brighten the world. From the corner of her eye, she watched and wondered if her daddy would turn up again? Just when she had given up hope, the familiar rush of warmth filled her. Turning around, she saw daddy on the other side, laughing at her confused expression. “Daddy, Daddy,” she wailed, “please don’t do this again. Do not leave me. Please help me leave this palace; let me come to you. Do hug me. Do let me feel complete.”
The Sun smiled. Oh, how he loved his darling Moon, who loved to call herself Evangelina. Softly he explained, “You can leave the palace if you want but then, we will become one, instead of two. While I light up a part of the world, the other half will be darkened. Would you like that?”
“No,” wailed Moon, “I wouldn’t. But… but is there no way I can feel you? Is there no way by which I can touch you? Is there no way? Just for some time, please, daddy?”
“You can feel me whenever you want. You can touch me whenever you want. I am always around. It is you, who turns away from me. So it is you, who will always have to stay connected to me,” replied the Sun.
“This is a little hard for me to understand. How can I feel you whenever I want?” asked Moon with her brows knit tightly together.
The Sun replied, “Just close your eyes and think of me, and you will feel me. Just feel your own light and you will feel my touch. Without me, you cannot exist. So, know at the very core of your being, if you exist, I must too.”
“But, but,” wept the Moon, “So often I am mean, Daddy. So often, I am scared. So often, I have such bad thoughts and I do such terrible things. So often, I am moody and deny the world my light. I am full of flaws and craters. But you seem so perfect, so flawless. Are you sure you love me all the time?”
The Sun laughed, a loud, rumbling laughter that coloured the skies in bright hues. He said, “It is my light that shines through you. Then, to hate you, would mean to hate myself. How can a parent hate its child? How can a seed hate its fruit? I love you, every time, all the time. There is light, all the time, everywhere.”
The Moon pouted prettily, still unwilling to accept everything daddy was saying. She wondered, “How come I don’t feel the love all the time? Why don’t I feel the light all the time? It just comes in glimpses.”
“When you learn to feel love all the time, love will remain with you all the time. When you adjust your eyes to the light permanently, light will be around forever. It begins as a choice. It continues with practice. And it becomes eternal with faith. The more you question, the more questions will arise, little one. We shall lose ourselves in words and miss out on the experience. Keep your face turned towards me, at all times, and never shall you ever feel lonely. Empty yourself, so I can fill you,” urged the Sun.
Nodding her head in understanding, Moon let go. She sat silently and allowed him to fill her completely. She could feel his light. She could feel his touch. In fact, she understood that without him, she was not. He was there at the very core of her. As this realisation struck her, her eyes flew open. She beamed, she laughed, and she danced. She felt so complete. In celebration, she arose, fully, so the entire world could see her glory. She kept her face to him, her Creator, and her daddy. She let him lead her through darkness. She saw him, even when she couldn’t see him. And each night, instead of tears of loneliness, she shed tears of gratitude – gratitude in the knowledge that he was with her even when she couldn’t see him. That he loved her, even when she could not feel the love – and that there was light, even in the darkest hour of the night.
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