{"id":6027,"date":"2010-12-29T07:01:30","date_gmt":"2010-12-29T05:01:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=6027"},"modified":"2012-04-18T07:35:10","modified_gmt":"2012-04-18T05:35:10","slug":"ish","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=6027","title":{"rendered":"ISH"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: right\">de Adrian Ioni\u0163\u0103\u00a0[USA]<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: right\"><em>for the English version, click <strong><a href=\"http:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=5898\">here<\/a><\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Dup\u0103 o iarn\u0103 grea \u015fi claustrofobic\u0103, aceast\u0103 ie\u015fire \u00een parc este un exil voluntar \u00een fascina\u0163ie. Ish o lu\u0103 razna prin iarb\u0103, \u00eempr\u0103\u015ftiind \u00een jurul s\u0103u un nor de p\u0103p\u0103die v\u0103toas\u0103. Am b\u0103gat zgarda \u00een buzunar \u015fi m-am a\u015fezat pe banc\u0103. V\u00e2ntul purta u\u015for aroma ierbii proaspete, copacii \u00eenfloriser\u0103, culorile pastelate ale florilor p\u0103reau glazate ca un ulcior \u0163\u0103r\u0103nesc de Horezu. Un nor de polen auriu \u00eemi \u00eengreun\u0103 pleoapele care alunecau cu o savoare \u00eenceat\u0103 \u015fi umed\u0103 peste ochii tremur\u00e2nd lene\u015f sub cortinele lor.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>\u00cen fa\u0163a mea se leg\u0103na un copil. Sunetul ruginit \u015fi strident al leag\u0103nului, \u00eenso\u0163it de \u0163ip\u0103tul dezolant al unui pesc\u0103ru\u015f pierdut \u00een vastitate, a spart t\u0103cerea din jur. Copilul desena cu picioarele destinse un arc perfect ce vibra ritmic cu precizia unui metronom. \u00centre aceste intervale \u00eencercam fugitiv s\u0103 reconstitui imaginea sa ascuns\u0103 de creanga \u00eengenunchiat\u0103 a unui copac ce \u00eemi obsta\u00adcula vederea. Obosit\u0103 de acest exerci\u0163iu, privirea se ridic\u0103 curioas\u0103 \u00een zbor deasupra parcului, cercet\u00e2nd centrul de art\u0103, lacul, copacii, c\u0103r\u0103rile sinuoase \u015fi terenul de zgur\u0103 ro\u015fie. C\u00e2teva veveri\u0163e f\u0103ceau zarv\u0103 \u00eentr-un copac \u015fi din c\u00e2nd \u00een c\u00e2nd un fluture gigantic \u00eemi acoperea transfocarea cu f\u00e2l\u00adf\u00e2itul aripilor sale moi \u015fi catifelate. De sus, parcul c\u0103p\u0103tase dimensiunea miniatural\u0103 a unui model arhitectural cu cop\u0103cei de plas\u00adtic \u015fi c\u0103su\u0163e din polistiren. Conturul precis \u015fi nemi\u015fcat al unui om, l\u0103sa o umbr\u0103 pe una dintre c\u0103r\u0103ri, iar Ish devenise un punct negru \u015fi mi\u015fc\u0103tor l\u00e2ng\u0103 oglinda lacului \u00een care se pr\u0103bu\u015fise un nor transparent. Pleoapele \u00eenchise se zb\u0103teau u\u015for l\u0103s\u00e2nd s\u0103 r\u0103zbat\u0103 printre ele str\u0103fulger\u0103ri grilate de raze verzui. Un miros fin de aracet, m\u0103 f\u0103cu s\u0103 m\u0103 aplec instinctiv, \u015fi privirea \u00eemi alunec\u0103 \u00een jos sub aceast\u0103 hologram\u0103 imuabil\u0103 \u00een centrul c\u0103reia pulsa leag\u0103nul\u2026<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Retras\u0103 \u00eentr-un col\u0163 al ate\u00adlierului, a \u00eenceput s\u0103 modeleze un bust micu\u0163 c\u00e2t palma. \u00cen fa\u0163a ei este un album uria\u015f \u00een care prive\u015fte hipnotizat\u0103 fotografia unui b\u0103tr\u00e2n cu barb\u0103 alb\u0103 \u015fi turban. Femeia are \u00een jur de patruzeci de ani. Cea mai t\u00e2n\u0103r\u0103 student\u0103 din clasa mea de sculptur\u0103, pe care de multe ori o compar \u00een glum\u0103 cu un grup \u00een tratament geriatric la Ana Aslan. De\u015fi nu are o experien\u0163\u0103 prealabil\u0103 \u00een modelaj, mi-a spus c\u0103 vrea s\u0103 fac\u0103 acest bust pentru c\u0103 se apropie aniversarea zilei de na\u015ftere a Marelui Maestru, Baba Sawan Singh Ji, b\u0103tr\u00e2nul cu turban din fotografie. Am luat albumul \u00een m\u00e2n\u0103 \u015fi am \u00eenceput s\u0103 \u00eel r\u0103sfoiesc f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 \u015ftiu c\u0103 \u00een fa\u0163a ochilor mei se afla imaginea unui om considerat a fi unul dintre cei mai mari mistici ai Indiei.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>\u00cen s\u0103pt\u0103m\u00e2nile care au urmat, am aflat c\u0103 face parte dintr-un grup foarte restr\u00e2ns de discipoli \u015fi ini\u0163ia\u0163i care se \u00eent\u00e2lnesc s\u0103pt\u0103m\u00e2nal \u00een jurul Maestrului, un guru ini\u0163iat de Baba Swan Singh Ji. Nu \u00eemi amintesc exact ziua \u00een care am ajuns s\u0103 vizitez grupul ei, dar \u015ftiu c\u0103 a fost o zi de iarn\u0103 geroas\u0103 \u00een care pa\u015fii mei pe iarba congelat\u0103 sunau ca un pat de becuri opace zdrobite sub bocanci. Grupul se \u00eent\u00e2lnea \u00een sala unei biserici de la periferia ora\u015fului. Premeditarea acestei \u00eent\u00e2lniri a creat tot felul de scenarii bizare \u00een mintea mea, precum desc\u0103l\u0163area \u015fi umilin\u0163a descoperirii unei g\u0103uri \u00een ciorap, sau \u00eengenunchierea \u00een fa\u0163a unei statui pe care o v\u0103d pentru prima dat\u0103. Cei din jur erau \u00eembr\u0103ca\u0163i obi\u015fnuit, nici urma de turbane, de \u201eali-baba-\u015fi-cei-patruzeci-de-ho\u0163i.\u201c<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Intrarea Maestrului a fost o surpriz\u0103. Un om \u00eentre dou\u0103 v\u00e2rste, \u00eembr\u0103cat la costum \u015fi cravat\u0103, p\u0103rea mai degrab\u0103 un profesor universitar dec\u00e2t un guru. Discipolii s-au str\u00e2ns repede \u00een jurul s\u0103u, salut\u00e2nd \u00een bi\u00adnecunoscuta form\u0103 gassho, cu o aplecare a capului \u015fi m\u00e2inile \u00eempreunate. Ajuns \u00een fa\u0163a Maestrului, era s\u0103 izbucnesc \u00eentr-un r\u00e2s isteric. M\u00e2inile \u00eemi erau ocupate de o geant\u0103 care a c\u0103zut pe jos c\u00e2nd m-am \u00eencli\u00adnat. Nici Woody Allen n-ar fi putut crea o scen\u0103 mai penibil\u0103.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>\u201eYou must be Larry\u201c mi-a spus Maestrul, \u00een loc de salut.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>\u00cen sal\u0103 erau \u00een jur de patruzeci de persoa\u00adne. To\u0163i se cuno\u015fteau foarte bine \u015fi p\u0103reau \u00een\u0163ele\u015fi s\u0103 \u00eemi ignore prezen\u0163a. \u00cencepusem chiar s\u0103 m\u0103 g\u00e2ndesc dac\u0103 toat\u0103 \u00eent\u00e2lnirea aceasta nu este cumva un fel de fars\u0103 sau conspira\u0163ie, c\u00e2nd sala a intrat brusc \u00eentr-o lini\u015fte morm\u00e2n\u00adtal\u0103. Maestrul, care \u015fedea \u00een fa\u0163a noastr\u0103 pe un tron masiv de stejar, ne c\u00e2nt\u0103rea cu privirile. Discipolii erau nemi\u015fca\u0163i, aresta\u0163i de acest schimb de priviri cu o materialitate organic\u0103 ce putea fi luat\u0103 \u00een bra\u0163e. Pentru o frac\u0163iune de secund\u0103 ochii Maestrului s-au oprit \u015fi asupra mea. \u00cencercam s\u0103 par c\u00e2t se poate de insensibil, dar mi-am dat seama c\u0103 maxilarul de jos \u00eemi c\u0103zuse paralizat de o for\u0163\u0103 pe care nu puteam s\u0103 o controlez. Toat\u0103 ceremonia asta mut\u0103 a durat c\u00e2teva minute, apoi Maestrul a \u00eenceput s\u0103 vor\u00adbeasc\u0103:<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>\u201eCu mul\u0163i ani \u00een urm\u0103, tat\u0103l meu, care era profesor de filosofie \u015fi metafizic\u0103 la Universitatea din Punjab, a scris o carte \u00een dou\u0103 volume intitulat\u0103 \u201c<em>Mysticism \u2013 The spiritual Path<\/em>.\u201d Cartea a ap\u0103rut \u00een 1940 \u00eentr-o edi\u0163ie de o mie de volume \u015fi a avut un succes deosebit, fiind reeditat\u0103 de cinci ori. Cred c\u0103 volumul doi al c\u0103r\u0163ii \u00eenc\u0103 poate fi g\u0103sit, dar volumul \u00eent\u00e2i pot s\u0103 v\u0103 spun de acum c\u0103 a disp\u0103rut total. Nici m\u0103car eu nu \u00eel mai am. Cum tr\u0103im \u00eentr-o epoc\u0103 do\u00adminat\u0103 de materialism \u015fi cercetare \u015ftiin\u00ad\u0163ific\u0103, \u00een care credin\u0163ele vechi \u015fi dogmele religioase trec prin filtrul interoga\u0163iilor analitice, m-am g\u00e2ndit c\u0103 ar fi folositor s\u0103 avem o discu\u0163ie pe aceast\u0103 tem\u0103. Cartea a fost dedicat\u0103 Marelui Maestru, Param Sant Satguru Huzur Maharaj Sawan Singh Ji, care a apreciat-o \u00een mare m\u0103sur\u0103. Am s\u0103 m\u0103 refer ast\u0103zi la c\u00e2teva idei cuprinse \u00een capitolele c\u0103r\u0163ii\u2026\u201c<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Dup\u0103 c\u00e2teva mi\u015fc\u0103ri indecise ale capu\u00adlui, imaginea parcului mi-a reintrat \u00een focus. Se f\u0103cuse mic c\u00e2t o moned\u0103 de 25 de cen\u0163i. Speriat\u0103, privirea a transfocat spre leag\u0103n, despic\u00e2nd \u00een valuri aerul dens \u015fi v\u00e2scos, de parc\u0103 ar fi trecut printr-un lan de gr\u00e2u. \u00cen iner\u0163ia picajului, am pierdut orice urm\u0103 de cognizan\u0163\u0103. M-am trezit aproape de nivelul solului. Un copac l\u0103s\u0103 s\u0103 cad\u0103 o frunz\u0103 ce \u00eemi acoperi pentru moment privirea. Eram l\u00e2ng\u0103 leag\u0103n. La intervale regulate, picio\u00adrul copilului ap\u0103rea \u00een imagine cu mi\u015fc\u0103rile precise ale unui \u015fterg\u0103tor de parbriz. Un rictus al b\u0103rbiei mi-a schimbat direc\u0163ia privirii spre fa\u0163a copilului. Nelini\u015ftea \u00eemi sporea. Copilul avea buzele str\u00e2nse ca o panglic\u0103 pe dup\u0103 care se citea durere. P\u0103rul auriu \u00eei acoperea fa\u0163a de c\u00e2te ori se ridica \u00een sus, pentru a c\u0103dea \u00eentins pe spate, de c\u00e2te ori venea amenin\u0163\u0103tor spre mine. Din c\u00e2nd \u00een c\u00e2nd, imaginea se voala ca m\u00e2lul tulburat de pe fundul unui lac. Un sunet surd acom\u00adpania \u00een contratimp mi\u015fcarea copilului. Am stat a\u015fa pentru mult\u0103 vreme p\u00e2n\u0103 c\u00e2nd un \u0163ip\u0103t puternic m-a f\u0103cut s\u0103 m\u0103 mi\u015fc brusc, \u015fi, spre groaza mea, transfocarea a intrat \u00een trupul copilului, printre celulele \u015fi porii lui, sec\u0163ion\u00e2nd organe \u015fi fibre musculare care se rupeau \u00eentr-o baie de spum\u0103 purpurie \u015fi sidefat\u0103. C\u0103zusem pe banc\u0103, m\u00e2inile \u00eemi erau \u00eencle\u015ftate \u015fi sim\u0163eam c\u0103 \u00eemi pierd cuno\u015ftin\u0163a. Un lichid fierbinte \u015fi lipicios \u00eemi acoperi trupul, \u015fi m\u0103 cufundam \u00een el cu o vitez\u0103 ame\u0163itoare. Unghiile \u00eemi intraser\u0103 \u00een lemnul b\u0103ncii. Aveam nevoie de aer, probabil c\u0103 nu respirasem de zece minute. Trebuia s\u0103 ies de aici, s\u0103 ies c\u00e2t mai repede. \u00cen sf\u00e2r\u015fit, pl\u0103m\u00e2nii mi s-au desfundat, \u015fi un bo\u0163 de carne c\u00e2t o g\u0103lu\u015fc\u0103 cu prune \u0163\u00e2\u015fni prin gura larg deschis\u0103, dup\u0103 care c\u0103zu cu un zgomot asurzitor l\u00e2ng\u0103 banc\u0103\u2026<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Cuvintele Maestrului formau pe ecra\u00adnul min\u0163ii mele o pelicul\u0103 care se derula paralel cu discursul s\u0103u. Filmul interior pulsa \u00een iner\u0163ia hipnotic\u0103 a unei reverii din care m\u0103 trezeam tempo\u00adrar pentru a prinde o alt\u0103 idee. Totul este despre interoga\u0163ii. Cine suntem, ce este lumea, care este rostul existen\u0163ei noastre pe p\u0103m\u00e2nt, ce este Dumnezeu, timpul, spa\u0163iul, are omul libertatea determin\u0103rii, de ce este at\u00e2ta mizerie \u015fi durere pe p\u0103m\u00e2nt, de ce at\u00e2ta cruzime, ce este moartea, exist\u0103 re\u00eencarnare, care este realitatea absolut\u0103 a fenomenelor din jurul nostru?<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Experien\u0163a vie\u0163ii mele a fost mult timp deprivat\u0103 de hran\u0103 spiritual\u0103, \u015fi iat\u0103, m\u0103 g\u0103seam aici \u00een fa\u0163a unui om care \u00eemi ridica u\u015for pleoapa celui de-al treilea ochi pentru a vedea o lume magic\u0103 \u015fi necunoscut\u0103. \u00centr-adev\u0103r, ce este \u201eacolo\u201c, sau \u201edincolo\u201c, \u00een palierele astra\u00adle? A venit oare cineva cu o descriere a acelei lumi? \u015ei apoi, cum ajungem acolo, dac\u0103 trebuie s\u0103 murim \u00een timp ce tr\u0103im?&#8230;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Am stat nemi\u015fcat c\u00e2teva secunde ca s\u0103 \u00eemi revin. \u00cencet-\u00eencet, respira\u0163ia a \u00eenceput s\u0103 mi se regleze. Un ciripit vesel de p\u0103s\u0103re\u00adle era \u00eentrerupt de claxonul repetat al unui camion. Dup\u0103 c\u00e2teva minute, am \u00eendr\u0103znit s\u0103 deschid u\u015for ochii. Lumina puternic\u0103 m\u0103 orbi total. Razele soarelui se \u00eenfipser\u0103 per\u00adpendicular \u00een mine ca ni\u015fte suli\u0163e. Mi-am \u00eentors capul spre parc \u015fi am respirat u\u015furat. Ish st\u0103tea la picioarele mele \u015fi m\u0103 privea t\u0103cut ca un sfinx. Am \u00eenghi\u0163it instinctiv \u00een sec. Dinspre st\u00e2nga, un b\u0103rbat \u00eentre dou\u0103 v\u00e2rste intrase \u00een parc pe o trotinet\u0103 electri\u00adc\u0103. Era slab, neb\u0103rbierit \u015fi prost \u00eembr\u0103cat. Se opri nemi\u015fcat \u00een mijlocul drumului, \u00een timp ce peisajul din spatele s\u0103u \u00eencepu s\u0103 se mi\u015fte ca un paravan de carton.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>L-am pus pe Ish \u00een zgard\u0103 \u015fi m-am hot\u0103r\u00e2t s\u0103 merg acas\u0103. Cu c\u00e2t m\u0103 apro\u00adpiam mai mult de omul cu trotineta, cu at\u00e2t nelini\u015ftea mea cre\u015ftea. \u00cen cele din urm\u0103, am intrat prin el ca printr-o bul\u0103 de s\u0103pun, purtat de c\u0103rarea de zgur\u0103 ro\u015fie ce se pierdea pe dup\u0103 o insul\u0103 de copaci ce a\u015ftepta s\u0103 ar\u0103t\u0103m cu degetul c\u0103tre ea\u2026<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center\">***<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp; de Adrian Ioni\u0163\u0103\u00a0[USA] for the English version, click here &nbsp; &nbsp; Dup\u0103 o iarn\u0103 grea \u015fi claustrofobic\u0103, aceast\u0103 ie\u015fire \u00een parc este un exil voluntar \u00een fascina\u0163ie. Ish o lu\u0103 razna prin iarb\u0103, \u00eempr\u0103\u015ftiind \u00een jurul s\u0103u un nor de p\u0103p\u0103die v\u0103toas\u0103. Am b\u0103gat zgarda \u00een buzunar \u015fi m-am a\u015fezat pe banc\u0103. V\u00e2ntul purta [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[704,393],"tags":[23,1151,54],"class_list":["post-6027","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-29-30","category-prozascurta","tag-adrian-ionita","tag-egophobia-29-30","tag-proza-scurta"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/s6DakB-ish","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6027","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6027"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6027\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8373,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6027\/revisions\/8373"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6027"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6027"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6027"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}