Kannaiyah the compassionate

First, the tyranny

Imagine strife. Imagine hatred. Imagine darkness.
Imagine bloodshed. Imagine war. Indefinite.

What could lay claim to such perilous times? What could lead to this deliberate and forcible oppression of a people?

Tyranny. Unmatched and Monstrous. And through the guise of religion. Because that’s what wars are started on?

And now imagine the opposite.

A slew of young warriors with their beautiful swords slashing down the tyrannical, maniacal forces charging at them. Seeking justice and delivering justice. When all other means have failed. In the name of an equal and opposite religion? Such does not exist. No, in the name of justice for all.

Justice against a regime set in motion by those who see only their beliefs as gospel. By those who are indoctrinated, under the command of just one man. Not god. Just one, mortal man. Who believes he is the most exalted, a messiah? Fulfilling his most ungodly purpose of complete dominion over all living things.

It is the youth emblazoned with a faith that protect the downtrodden, that fights this oppression. That sees victory only in delivering justice and attaining spiritual peace. And they must continue in the darkness.

Then, a time to endure.

This war had endured. It had endured the changing of the seasons. It had endured all casualty and death. It had endured all reason, for it was unending and relentless. But how must we endure and remember that these wars serve a bigger purpose? Can this purpose only be achieved through gore and death?

And where must our trust be placed? In our teachings that bring us to this point in time? Or in our masters who give us hope that our actions will kill the many to pacify the few?

To an invisible thread connecting each swing of the righteous scimitar to a divine energy that governs all that the eye can see and more.

But alas, the good men had been boxed in. All roads in and out blocked. The city had been laid siege.

Yet the swordsman continued their fight. For Light will always remain unfettered, unflustered in the darkest of nights. Ready to shine, magnificently at dawn. Pure of heart and focused on the greater good, they moved through enemy lines and sunk the generals into the hot sands staining the orange sea with crimson red. Each defeated enemy signalled one step closer to salvation.

But still. Death endures all.

The desert outside the city was littered with bodies. In the end, despite all machinations and disputes of this war, all were rendered equal. and obsolete. But those still breathing, gasping for air, hanging onto life desperately raised a chorus of desperation. A chorus of realisation. That life is more than blind faith in one man. That life is beyond that which encapsulates us. Beyond that which indoctrinates us. And in that memento mori of seeing themselves erased from this world, they remember who they truly are.

A light that connects us all

Then up stood Kannaiyah. The water carrier.

A most humble and selfless Sikh. Who had led a life of altruism and loved the spiritual path, away from the physical wealth that clouded the judgements of all around him. He saw no work too low, with his unwavering ability to see the light of the almighty in all of creation.

And so found himself in the service of the leader of the oppressed, the guru, the wielder of the spiritual light.

And he saw the strife. He saw the hatred. He saw the darkness.

He saw the bloodshed. He saw war. Rage.

And he saw the opposite. As he walked with light steps through the heavy stench of souls lost to calamity and vitriol.

With the battle ceased and the dust settling down on the dunes that began hiding the days atrocities, Kannaiyah began his mission. Serving each of the fallen, friend or foe, delivering soothing water from his leather container to their parched throats. Giving them hope and respite. Moments of peace shared amongst equals.

Kannaiyah the healer.

Both the fallen, approaching death, and the standing, embracing life, felt a divine power coursing through this water. Some invisible thread that connected them all.

But his comrades raised alarm and brought Kannaiyah to the court of the guru, to answer for his service to the enemy. For they did not understand the depths to which he had gone. How selfless his acts were.

"Is it true what I have heard? Are you giving water to the enemy?" bellowed their commander.

And with a shining light in his eyes Kannaiyah spoke forth “O my beloved leader, yes it is true. As I gaze upon the face of the wounded, all I see is the one true light that connects us all. I have to serve them because they are all equal and all I see is God’s light resonating in them."

And as that message rang around the makeshift barracks, there was a silent gasp amongst the battalions. An understanding, a recognition of spiritual presence. A lesson.

For in any way of life, it’s the greater good who we serve. And this man served all without knowing or caring of their stature, their creed, their origins, their reasons.

Beyond the strife, beyond the hatred, beyond the darkness,

beyond the bloodshed, beyond war.

There IS an opposite. Divinity. Indefinite.

And in ones humility and compassion, one ascends.

Always through service to humanity.
Kannaiyah. The lotus sitting above. The healing light of the world.