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Tenali R.K. EP01 The Universe’s Plan. (Story Online)
This Story Online Tenali R.K. was of two Mystic Men in the World of Struggle that can Inspire you in many different ways.
The story is divided into many episodes, this is EP01 out on the 1st of Aug,2021.
You may also reach them at the numbers mentioned below of all the souls that walk on this Mother Earth, there is just a handful, that would actually stand for her. These are dark times where man is man’s biggest foe.
Even when the sun comes up, these rakshasas (demons) are roaming freely. Despite all such, of all the possible permutations and combinations of people, I could meet I had the opportunity to meet and know this blessed Divine soul. Just remember. When you learn about an enlightened being, your regular logic doesn’t apply to that person.
Today’s tale is of RK, and I, total strangers, who turned into blood brothers This is Krishna Dev Roy, Chairperson of Pratyangira Group… and this…is our story.
RK’s life has never been easy. Gravity did extra work on him. Right after he was born, the doctor dropped him. Then his aunt. His uncle later. RK’s grandfather picked him up and scolded the people that kept dropping the baby. While yelling at them, his shaky hands dropped him again You can’t blame them, you know.
There was an instance where he escaped and fell down the cradle on his own, once. People were scared to pick him up cuz he kept dropping. Birds started orbiting his head. While the earth was rotating along its own axis, his brain started rotating in opposite direction. He couldn’t count two and two, because he started seeing four and four.
In other words, he was born as a character that Sadhguru would call Shankaran Pillai. But his parents called him Rama Krishna, because every time he fell, someone would scream “Rama Ramaa” or “Krishna Krishnaa“
His family hailed from the small town Tenali but then migrated to Devapur. Their family name soon turned into Tenali. Thus was born, my very dumb friend, Tenali RK.
In the meanwhile, I was a baby born with a silver spoon. My father, Vikram Roy, and my mother Radhe Roy were textile merchants. She was a devotee of Krishna. While my father wanted to name me after his father, Devendra Roy, my mother wanted to name me after Krishna.
Thus I come, Krishna Dev Roy.
From an early age, I was taught the value of Indian textiles, uniqueness, and fineness. This influence later built a knack for everything that is Indian, deep within me When you look at the world, people value art, the best. Paint exhibitions, antique collections, sculptures, and such are regarded the most, and it’s a billion-dollar industry.
But in our nation, sadly the artists struggle quite much because of least or no encouragement. Somebody has said it well, “There is an ocean of talent but only a stream of opportunities”
Hence I established, Pratyangira Art Gallery, named after the family business – Pratyangira textiles. Though this was a very minute part of The Pratyangira group my interests always lay in the art gallery the most, as this is not just an art collection, but my nation’s heritage.
I’m a proud holder of seventeen thousand paintings by contemporary artists eighteen hundred antiques and seven paintings that age at least seven hundred years. Till now, my initiative has fed at least a
thousand artists and their families.
When all was fine, something terrible had happened at our gallery. Our grandest exhibition of all such great art
was supposed to be in six months. Beating the top-tech security that we had installed for the antique paintings, a bunch of robbers breached my gallery.
Of all the seven, four paintings were successfully stolen, while the fifth painting gave out an alarm. Before any of my security could do anything, the miscreants had fled with four paintings
that cumulatively cost seventeen crores.
More than the cost, they were a cultural heritage meant for the world to witness. Many guests including international delegates would’ve seen a failure not on just my part but the country’s
Neither could we announce an official complaint, alarming the investors for the event, nor could we carry out the whole investigation on our own.
I needed help. Just my power was not sufficient to drag me out of the mess that was created I looked up to the skies, begging for a savior. I could just sigh and hope, that the universe had a plan
And it did.
RK was working as a painter. No, no, not artistic. He was just painting the walls of Devapur. A few kids were in a habit of throwing eggs at him. Few grown educated idiots had their egos satisfied by drenching him in paint. No matter what, RK wouldn’t utter a curse against these.
He was such a blissful soul, who would naturally wash off dirt thrown at him. All that mattered to him
was the paint that he did. The colors. The mix of it. Seeing his condition and the low pay he requires every house in town would hire him for repaints every once in a year or so.
It so happened that right in the middle of the day, the cloud of need that I had in my darkest hour,
traveled all the way to RK’s village.
RK was generally painting a public wall, commissioned by the local municipality The flashes of lightning in the sky scared RK. His mother had taught him to think of Arjuna when in fear. He started chanting the various names of the said warrior
Arjuna, Phalguna, Kireeti… went on mumbling while painting.
His intelligence did not tell him to stop and seek shelter as a huge rain was about to drop. Few well-educated adults surrounded him, teasing him for his dumbness, and drenched him in the red paint, as usual, They mocked him for not taking shelter and went their way to hide their heads.
This time, RK was both scared and humiliated, arising a different level of frustration.
The thunders roared. He shouted back at the thunders, to stop screaming at him The thunders roared yet again. He yelled back. This went on for quite a while. Even street dogs were strangely watching this man, barking at thunders. He looked up at the mountain that was close to the clouds. He challenged the clouds and the thunders to
stay right there and that he was coming for them. They roared back.
Rk started climbing the mountain… To his astonishment, the clouds were still over his head, roaring at him. It got scarier.
More the steps he took, more the insults he remembered from all his life. Every thunder gave his mind grief. The very air that blew, burdened his chest with memories of disgrace The flashes in the skies reminded him
of all the people that laughed at him.
By the time, he reached the mountain-top, he began hating his whole life. In front of him, stood a vast temple,
almost demolished. He knew not of this, for he never had the need to climb this mountain. Neither did most of the people from the village, except to collect fruits and vegetation
RK walked close to the cliff, near to which stood the shrine of Goddess Kali, almost in ruins. Her eyes were closed, which was unusual for a Kali idol.
He decided to jump and end his misery. The mockery that the sky did, frustrated him enough to end his life. But his weak heart was scared to do the act. He closed his eyes. He remembered, the story told by his mother.
Arjuna, the warrior, during his exile had to fetch alms. During one such rainy day, a lightning dare hit him but being a master of Atharvana Veda Arjuna could pack the thunders into his bag, scaring Varuna Deva, the god of rains. Arjuna was apologized to, and the thunders were released back.
RK started reciting Arjuna’s multiple names, for gaining such courage, ignore the thunders, and jump.
“Arjuna, Phalguna, Kireeti, Partha
Swethavahana, Bheebhatsah, Vijaya, Krishna, Savyasachi,
Dhanunjaya….” he went on.
He looked down the steep valley and was about to jump. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning hit a dead tree that was quite
close to him, lighting it on fire. The force threw him right into the Kali shrine through a broken wall. He hit his head for the last time, at goddess Kali’s feet. He fell unconscious.
The skies cleared slowly. It took a while. But, RK woke up to see the burning tree. Something very elemental had changed about him. He just sat there, gazing at the flames. His whole body started feeling heavy. So heavy that he could not move his fingers. As if the burden of the universe rested on his shoulders, his flesh felt the pressure.
Watching the flames dazzle to the wind, made his heart soothe. Then he began feeling lighter and lighter until he felt as if he were a cotton ball. All the pain, all the sorrow, emotions, that he burdened upon himself began to release He had learned to let go. That was it.
In his own words, it was the moment of enlightenment for that soul. He spent hours, watching the tree
burn down to ashes.
And then, he did not need fire to stay in the state of Samadhi (Eternal State).
He became a natural.
Three days passed by. Who would worry about him? Not his dead parents. Not the taunting village
that only used him for his cheap rates. RK did not move from where he sat. Slowly his eyes shifted from the eternal blue he was gazing into…towards the idol of Kali.
Seeing her eyes closed, he felt puzzled. His senses started coming back. He felt human again. Thus came unbearable hunger. He wanted to find something to eat, but his physical body had succumbed to weakness. An hour passed by, as he wished someone could come and tend to his hunger.
He started hearing anklets. He crawled out of the shrine to see who it was, with what energy he had left. A lady in a red saree (An Indian Custom) was walking across the rubbles of the temple, with a herd of cattle marching to graze.
He screamed with the highest voice possible. She turned to him, looked at his pitiful condition, and came to him. He begged her to give him some food. She gazed for moments at him and offered two cans to him. Opening them, he found one with milk and another with curd.
RK mumbled that he was lactose intolerant.
The lady laughed, and apparently replied, “You know not, but you actually have the habit of drinking both together”. RK was taken aback.
He asked if they knew each other. She only smiled at him and asked him to consume the only food she carried with her. She told him once he gained energy, he could collect what fruits he may find on the mountain.
RK, helpless, fed his stomach with both. He thanked the lady, took his time, and
began to walk to the orchids of the mountain. He spent about a month, surviving on fruits and vegetation, spending most of his time, sitting in a state of Samadhi.
I was always forced to learn “Jack and Jill went up the hill”. I was never taught of the miraculous mountains of India. Had I known, I’d have happily exchanged places with RK.
A New Life
To start afresh, he packed what little luggage and torn clothes he had and set to travel to the city. He demanded and strongly stood his ground, to collect every last penny the villagers had to pay him.
He followed the birds in the sky that migrated for food in the monsoons. Absent the wings, he felt more liberated than these flying things. He had made up his mind to make a name, and earn. He knew he was not the same. But how different, only time would let him know. The first test was already here.
My company’s advert for the exhibition had already begun even before the theft. We had distributed paper ads, pamphlets, and whatnot, to attract donations and investors for the international art exhibit.
One such pamphlet was handed over to him as he bought Samosa (my favorite) in the heart of the city. What caught his eyes was the photo of the antique painting of Goddess Kaali’s idol – with closed eyes.
This image was very clear to him. He knew where this was from. He knew, all the series of events had a deeper meaning. He set out, to meet the owner of Pratyangira Art gallery, which happened to be me.
It was such a busy day.
My private informers had no leads on the burglary. The date was nearing. Less than five months into the exhibition, my soul started shivering for the consequences of losing four paintings. At such an hour came a direct request from
HR that some idiot was looking for a job.
I yelled of course because this HR would bring me every nonsensical request from any Tom-Dick-and Harry. He insisted that this person had information about the Kali painting. I jumped onto my feet and wondered if this would lead to the thefts. The HR took me to the stranger at my door.
“What do you know of the Kali painting,” I asked.
“I’m from where it was painted,” he replied,
“I think I know why her eyes are closed”.
I was intrigued. There was a charm in this bearded man. Power in his eyes. I knew the universe would have a plan. I stepped forward, shook his hands.
“Krishna Dev Roy”, I said, introducing myself. “Tenali Rama Krishna. You may call me RK,” he said.
At the very moment, we realized at a later part of our story… …that the attached eyelids on goddess
Kali’s idol had dropped down.
It was in a way as if she opened “HER BIG ANGRY EYES”
To be Continued…EP02:Michelangelo and Granite
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Some FAQ Related (Story Online)
Name any new Mystic Story Online?
This Story Tenali R.K. was of two Mystic Men in the World of Struggle that can Inspire you in many different ways. The story is divided into many episodes, this is EP01 out on the 1st of Aug,2021, and was developed by channel STRING under the supervision of Vinodh Anna, Founder of String. It is also available in many different languages including English with Animation. More episodes Upcoming Stay tuned… SUBSCRIBE
When would be the EP02 be out of Tenali R.K.?
The second episode will be out on the 11th of Aug of 2021, on channel STRING under the supervision of Vinodh Anna, Founder of String. More episodes. It is also available in many different languages including English with Animation