Even then and now..

 

"OUT OF MY SIGHT, NOW!"

Surya admonished Bhumi for being an angry little child. She exploded every now and then, having inherited her fury from her volatile father. Being the third child among nine siblings, she bore the brunt of his temper more often than the others. Today, when she retaliated, he punished her for life, sending her into exile to work on her shortcomings and follies. Egoistic and headstrong, she stormed out of the family orbit, only to find herself held by stronger binding forces.

"I'm your creator. Don't try to act smart with me!" Surya reminded her of her origin. "First evolve, grow, and then try to break free from the reins of my upbringing."

Fathers can never express themselves well, neither then nor now.

Like a rebellious teenager, Bhumi moved away from the patriarchal and tyrannical rule of her father, whom the entire universe worshipped. Yet she could not move beyond the reach of her elder brother, Venus. He guffawed at her miserable state.

"So, you've been thrown out too! Enjoy your freedom, baby, while still being in the loop."

Advice or no advice, she had to create her own atmosphere, her own ecosystem. For the first few days, she ate, drank, and rejoiced in her newfound independence, breaking all the barriers imposed by a disciplined home. Being away from her angry father helped her cool down, but not without the terrible consequences of her merriment.

One day she cried out, "Ouch! Oh my God, my tummy hurts badly!"

Bhumi's bile churned and regurgitated. She shook and convulsed in pain, then began a series of vigorous eruptions of lava and magma. Rumbling in agony, she trembled in fear of destruction and prayed for a smooth recovery. Seeing her condition, the sky sent a shower of relief, soaking her in pools of Adam's ale.

Having learned her lesson, she sulked in silence, but not without making a resolution-a resolution to rotate on her own, a determination to function independently. Though she remained in her father's shadow, she began building a family of her own. She was determined to show Surya that she would be a better parent.

Deeply in love with the blue Aakash, Bhumi basked in his glory. Wheatish-brown Bhumi and fair, radiant Aakash were the first to break the barriers of race and caste. Though made of diverse elements, they shared a singular love. Together, Aakash and Bhumi traversed the universe.

Surya opposed their union, and like a rigid father, he withdrew his light from part of Bhumi. From brown to black, she alternated like a zebra crossing. Refusing to bow before these celestial torments and continuing their love story, Bhumi gave birth to Chanda.

Naughty yet loving, Chanda won the heart of his grandfather. Drawing inspiration from Surya, he illuminated his dark mother. Thus, the family glowed in eternal light.

Having grown up as a motherless child, Bhumi became the Giving Mother to all that grew from her. Vruksha, Jeev, and Manav were born. Manav, being the youngest, was the most pampered and dearest to Bhumi. She allowed him to dance, jump, dig, bury, and disrupt her very being. Like a loving mother, she swallowed his follies. Her parenting was the stark opposite of Surya's.

Bhumi turned a blind eye to her children's mischief. No hovering over them like her father had done.

"This is too much! He cut off my arm yesterday while playing with fire. I tolerated his endless hanging and climbing because I am his elder sister. But I can't take it anymore."

One day, Vruksha complained while nursing her broken bough.

"Relax, beta. He's only a child. He doesn't realize his mistake yet."

Bhumi tried to pacify her firstborn. After all, firstborns are meant to bear the burden of their younger siblings, both then and now. Vruksha frowned and curled her roots in disappointment.

Not many days later, Jeev came running and wailing loudly.

"He is encroaching on my territory. Isn't the land allotted to him enough? Ma, Manav is troubling both me and Vruksha Didi. Because of him, she refuses to feed me."

Middleborns are pendulums, both then and now.

"Understand, my bacha. He is still young, and you are the elder brother. Forgive him."

Bhumi did not know how long these assurances would continue to work. She decided to speak with Manav.

"Manav beta, what's wrong? Why are you troubling your siblings?"

She caressed him with cool winds.

"I want to have fun. Fun and frolic. I don't care what happens to them."

Manav's audacity once again churned Bhumi's bile, but she forgave him like a good mother. Yet her gentle warnings failed to discipline him. He went from bad to worse, manifesting uglier versions of himself with each passing day.

She trembled in fury like her father Surya, but to no avail. Her pampering had produced adverse consequences.

Bhumi cried tears of apathy, flooding her surface, yet it made no difference to her dearest child. He grew into a famished monster, ready to devour whatever came his way. Unreasonable and unrealistic, Manav consumed Vruksha's and Jeev's extended families. All was not well, and even Aakash cursed his parenthood.

Like an impotent spectator, he passively observed the downfall. Not once, but many times, his very being was punctured by rockets and missiles launched by Manav.

Helplessly, both Bhumi and Aakash prayed for the end of their beloved child.

Bhumi had finally decided that she would engulf him within her crust. After all, her other children mattered too. And the day was not far away when she would bury his Ravana-like head deep within her womb, never allowing it to emerge again.

Until then, she missed her father Surya's fury. Had she been as firm and resolute like him, the need to destroy her own progeny would never have arisen. 

Fathers know it all, even then and now.