Ita was a caveman. He lived inside a sufficiently large gap within a craggy hill and had arrived there when he was much younger after he’d left his family. In the seventeen years he’d lived, he’d seen much. He’d watched, in dismay, his hunting companions get hurt or killed by landslides and wild beasts that frightened the wits out of the poor man.
As a little child, he’d been scared of thunderstorms and wild animals too. But there was this big man who’d often arrive there and hold him and his siblings in a warm protective embrace. The kind and loving lady who looked after them also appeared relieved in this big man’s presence.
The emotions he felt towards people and situations were often overwhelming-the fear, the panic, the filial affection. Just some grunts and whoops were all he had to express his feelings, but those feelings were very much there.
In his new abode, he had begun a struggle for survival against natural elements and Nature as such. He plucked fruits from the same trees that during an earthquake threatened to fall and crush him. The lightning that hit and ruined one of those trees gave him fire which he kept alive with fuel because many were it’s good uses. Here he learnt that what can destroy could also sustain if used in a controlled atmosphere. This knowledge gave him comfort.
On a cloudy night, thunder rumbled through the night sky and he saw the approaching storm. By now he’d become more confident. He went into his cave and sat at the edge, watching the sky show and began to experience the power of the Supreme. Because out there, he sensed something that was powerful beyond his imagination that could support him, yet could finish him off within seconds. He closed his eyes and offered a wordless prayer, and in that prayer he found something that was bigger than fear or danger, and seemed to have the strength to vanquish it all.
A few years later, loitering through some woods in search of food, he met Siba, a pretty looking cave-woman. For the first time, he was overwhelmed by a wholly new feeling. Siba soon became his companion. She cared for him and was very affectionate. Although he continued to live alone in his cave, he spent much of his time with Siba during the day, when they searched for fruits and began to domesticate a few small animals. When Siba bore children, he found them intriguing and often played chase with them, and on dark stormy nights, he found himself venturing through the paths infested with dangerous creatures to be with Siba and the children.
And all this time he felt guidance coming from an undefinable source. The power that seemed to follow him all the time, protected him like the large hairy arm from his childhood, just like he protected his own little children.
One day while out in the open, searching for edible seeds on the ground close to a hill with Siba and their brood, there was a landslide. Afraid for his family, more than for his own life, Ita rushed to move his family to safety. As they stood at a safe distance and watched the avalanche subside, a single rock rolled and landed at Ita’s right foot.
Ita picked up that rock and took it his cave. He placed it on the floor within the confines and imagined that this was a token from the Supreme being that seemed to follow him and safeguard him.
Imagine he began to make offerings to this little rock believing it to be the power that he couldn’t surmise. Imagine that he danced around this rock as a storm raged outside, because he wanted to celebrate the beauty of all that was beyond his grasp. And when the storm subsided and the clouds cleared, in its stead appeared the beautiful night sky with it’s twinkling stars and very often the moon in its various forms. In the morning the sun arrived heralding a new day. Ita knew by now that the sun had to be made of the same fire that cooked his food and kept animals at bay, because it too gave out light and heat. It had to be bigger though to light up the entire sky. The sky, on the other hand, was fathomless for him. The beauty, the awesomeness…all this he worshiped in that little rock. And that is how, maybe, a rock began to be worshiped
In time the rock was given the human shape to imply that what needed to be found lay within. Stories were woven around these shapes to make spiritual lessons easier. The stories became legends and lore. The philosophy behind the tale was forgotten. Rituals which were meant to be soul food for the human being was followed indiscreetly or without understanding the underlying purpose. Maybe this is how idol worship came into being. Maybe Ita did understand that the power lay within him, just like it had in his father’s comforting arm. The stone must have symbolised that power within him then.
A power that is easier to understand if you confine it within a rock but spread out into the entire universe, so difficult to comprehend. So you look for it in forms and shapes, in prayer books, in chants and prayers, within ashrams, in the words of Gurus uttering recycled wisdom or just by closing your eyes and feeling it all around you until you can perceive it without trying too hard. And from that first understanding, let the wisdom grow. Even a Buddha gained enlightenment after much penance. If we gain even a fraction of the wisdom he did, our lives will be made.
( Ita was created as a result of my need to go back to the roots and tell the ‘if-then’ story convincingly. He may have existed among the many nameless cavemen that may have roamed the earth as the father of all that’s spiritual although we can never be very sure about that)
Spiritually Yours, Nani 