By Joshua D. Glawson
Once upon a time, there was a girl named Aklima. She had big dreams and amazing ideas about the world, her experiences in it, and the future of limitless possibilities. Every night, before she drifted off to sleep, she gazed out the window by her bed into the night sky. From her tiny village, in the middle of nowhere, she could see galaxies. Constellations were her imagination’s playground, and with every shape she could fathom was a new idea or story she felt inspired to share. The stars skimmed the night sky and gracefully hid behind the mountains.
Her younger sister, Brija, slept in the bed with Aklima, and was always curious about the stars. “Badi,” spoke Brija softly to Aklima while pointing to the night sky, “What ami-nal is this one?”
Gauging her little sister’s gesturing and pointing, Aklima replied, “The three little stars in a row?”
“Yeah. Those ones.”
“Anuja, the three stars is a part of Mahavyadha. He is the great hunter. I wonder if he hunted his own stars…,” replied Aklima drifting between consciousness, dancing between her dreams of the world and the ones of her sleep. For the next fifteen minutes, Aklima told tales of ancient stories to her sister Brija and the origins of the stars until they doze off together.
The next day, Aklima decided to attempt writing down her thoughts on each constellation her sister asked her about over the past few months. She gathered her precious paper, pen and ink, and she sat at the table. Dipping the pen into the ink, Aklima then stared at the paper hesitating to put pen to pad. She felt stuck.
Perhaps, she needed a stretch and a cup of tea to get started. So, she stood up from the table, prepared the kettle for hot water and began stretching each limb. After a few minutes of getting her blood flowing, feeling limber, the kettle began screeching and hissing. She poured her tea and sat back down at the blank paper. Nothing. Not one word came to mind.
It was perplexing, just the night before she could provide stories upon stories, and not a word went wasted. On this day, she was struggling for even an idea to write, and a word to commit to. Aklima walked outside and found the village eldest grandmother named Tisya.
“Tisya, Naniji, I dream of changing the world. I have so many ideas but I cannot write when I am at the paper. I do not know what to do. Can you please help me, Naniji,” plead Aklima.
The grandmother, wiser beyond her years replied, “I am not a writer, my sweet Aklima. I have known a few, however. They have certain qualities that allow the flow of words to seemingly pour down from the Heavens dripping their way on paper. What do you enjoy reading?”
Aklima paused and hesitated to respond. She did not read regularly and this question struck her into a moment frozen in time. The difficulty was that she had to read the sentences a couple of times to get the context. It was not a struggle with reading, per se, it was that she got tired while reading and her mind drifted off into her dreams and ideas.
“I only read the books my school teacher gives us. I do not like to read,” said Aklima.
Tisya looked into Aklima’s eyes, seeing her sincerity while also seeing more in her than Aklima was aware. Testing Aklima with a question, “Are you willing to do what it takes to catch your dream, to go as far as it may take to get to your star?”
Still at loss for words, Aklima shook her head in affirmation.
Pointing to the top of the mountain, beyond the cloud line, Tisya said, “Go to the Guru of the mountain, Guru Aashresh, he will point you in the right direction. May Saraswati be with you.”
Guru Aashresh lived on top of the mountain while the village rested at its feet. The journey to the top of the mountain would take a person of Aklima’s size and experience at least one week to get to the top, and another six days to get back. It was a journey she would have to prepare for, and so she did. Leaving Brija with their parents, Aklima wrote a letter explaining her journey’s purpose, packed her things and went on her trek up her path.
The adventure took her up high hills, steep terrain, rocky edges, narrow paths, over venomous snakes, swatting through pesky insects, and falling a number of times with scrapes and injuries. Stumbling her way through lightly trodden trails, much of it left to her own intuition, she finally made it to the temple of the Guru on the seventh day.
The temple had high walls, intricate designs, and lush plants and vines all over. There were statues of tigers, elephants, mice, and monkeys. In the gentle breeze there was a sweet smell of burning incense, firewood, fragrant tea, and jasmine. The sound of a trickling stream could be heard nearby. Stone tile grounds led to the large wooden doors which were open. Standing next to the door was a large ox bell. Aklima walked over to the bell and rang it gently, but loud enough to be heard.
The Guru walked out of the building with a smile and open arms. Embracing Aklima, he offered her tea and a seat to allow her to remove her pack off her back and rest a while. After some time of introduction, the Guru asked Aklima, “What has brought you on such an epic journey? How may I help you?”
Aklima was still exhausted from the journey, but she was on a mission to become a writer, to help change the world, and to chase her own star. Gathering herself, she explained, “I want to become a writer to help change the world, but I cannot seem to write them down. I asked our village grandmother, Tisya, what I should do. She told me to come to you.”
The Guru, nodding in understanding asked, “What do you like to read?”
Shocked by the same question, Aklima first stumbled across her words, “That, hah, is… huh… that is what Tisya asked me. I did not know how to answer because I do not enjoy reading, I get mentally tired and it bores me. I am willing to learn, though. I dream of getting my ideas out into the world! Tisya said you would be able to help me. What should I do?”
The Guru, still smiling and nodding in understanding, said, “My child, for the next year, you should read one paragraph of the Vedas per day, and then write one word per day. After the year, bring your three hundred sixty-five words to me. I will guide you to the next step after you have done all of this.”
After hearing her next tasks, without question, she smiled and began her long trek back down the mountain. Down high hills, steep terrain, rocky edges, narrow paths, over venomous snakes, swatting through pesky insects, and falling a number of times with scrapes and injuries, she made it back home on the sixth day.
Aklima’s family greeted her with such warmth and love upon her return. She asked her parents for the family Vedas almost immediately. Each day she set aside a devoted twenty minutes to read one paragraph per day. Some days she struggled while other days she felt she could read more, but she remained patiently vigilant. After each reading she would think of a word to summarize the paragraph, or try using a word that described her feeling of the paragraph she had read. For the next year she read a paragraph per day and she wrote one word per day. By the end of the year, she had three hundred sixty-five words.
With every word written, she counted down the days to go back up to the top of the mountain to show Guru Aashresh what she had accomplished. Aklima was proud of her work, but she still did not understand. On the last day of her year, she packed her bags and got ready for her trip. She kissed her sister and told her she’d be back in two weeks. She wrote a letter for her parents and let them know her journey ahead.
Aklima hiked up high hills, steep terrain, rocky edges, narrow paths, over venomous snakes, swatting through pesky insects, and falling a number of times with scrapes and injuries, but this time she was more prepared. She made it back to the Guru on her seventh day, and it was as though he was already expecting her.
Welcoming Aklima was a warm smile and a hug, the Guru asked her, “My child, you have made it back! Do you have your three hundred sixty-five words?”
“I do,” replied Aklima with a smile of confidence while taking the stack of words out from her backpack.
As Aklima tried handing them over to the Guru, he held his hand out and shook his head refusing to take the stack of words. Perplexed, Aklima asked with tears filling her eyes, “Why do you not want them? I did as you asked, I wrote down one word per day for a year, and I now have them for you. I want to become a writer and change the world, chasing my own star. Please help me.”
“Sweet Aklima,” replied the Guru, “You have done almost everything you need to do to become a writer. You captured your dreams and sought after them as your goal. You have traveled far and through difficult struggles, you have left your comfort and those you love, you asked wiser people for guidance, and you have devoutly accomplished much of the most difficult parts of reading a paragraph per day and writing down one word per day. I’m proud of you and your hard work, Aklima.”
“But… I do not know how to write yet,” said Aklima.
“Remember when you came to me one year ago? You said you struggled reading because it made you tired. Tell me, can you read a paragraph now with greater ease?”
“Yes,” smiled Aklima.
“I’m confident you can read a page now at the same amount of strength it took you to read a paragraph! Recall when you had trouble writing down one word to paper?”
“Of course, but now I have three hundred sixty-five!”
Nodding in agreement with a smile from ear to ear, the Guru replied, “Exactly. Now you have three hundred sixty-five different topics to write about and the corresponding word that inspires it all is written on each piece of paper. Aklima, for the next year I want you to go through each word and write one page per word you have in the stack. Allow each word to inspire you, and by the end of the year you will not have three hundred-sixty five words, but three hundred sixty-five pages of words and thoughts to help change the world. Bring what you have back in one year’s time.”
Realizing the new task before her, she quickly gathered her things, hugged the Guru goodbye, and went back down the mountain to her village. Down high hills, steep terrain, rocky edges, narrow paths, over venomous snakes, swatting through pesky insects, and falling a number of times with scrapes and injuries, she made it back home on the sixth day.
The following day, after her return, she began writing one page per word she had. Sometimes she had to ask her parents or the village elders for the in-depth meaning of the words. Other times she drew on her experiences in the world and what she already knew to write. She also told her sister stories at night, and remembered to write them down the next day.
Day after day, page after page, each word became easier and easier to write. A single word used to take Aklima many minutes to think about and write down; and now, within only a few minutes, she has an entire page completed. By the end of this year, she had at least three hundred sixty-five pages, each dedicated to a single word. She wrapped the stack of papers and put them in her backpack in preparation for her journey back to the top of the mountain to visit the guru.
Aklima gathered her things, kissed her sister goodbye, and wrote a letter to her family explaining her final venture. Up the mountain she went. Hiking up high hills, steep terrain, rocky edges, narrow paths, over venomous snakes, swatting through pesky insects, and falling a number of times but with fewer scrapes and injuries than previous trips. By the seventh day, she reached the Guru.
Arms open wide and a smile even wider, the Guru approached Aklima as soon as she reached the summit. “My amazing Aklima, you have made it back, and I am so proud of you. Tell me, have you written the three hundred sixty-five pages corresponding to each word?”
“Yes,” exclaimed Aklima with overwhelming joy for her accomplishments.
Pulling out a set of three, large, wooden rings from his bandi, Guru Aashresh grinned with confidence. “With these three rings we will hold your work together. Your work is your meditation in Om. You have successfully represented unity, creation, intuition, and knowledge. You have overcome your dreaming state, waking state, unconscious state, the illusive Maya state, and the transcendental state. As you meditated on each word and sacrificed for your growth, your mantras became reality: your book is before you.”
Tears of joy began falling down Aklima’s face. She recognized her hard work and accomplishments. She used to struggle reading a paragraph without getting exhausted, and trouble jotting down even one word. Now, her mental and spiritual muscles were worked and she could let the words pour from her pen as though the ink spilled from the Heavens. Aklima had overcome everything that stopped her from hunting and catching her own star.
Her trip back down the mountain was a lot lighter from being used to the terrain and having the extra pep in her step from the happiness she helped create inside through accomplishing her dream. When she made it back to the village, she stopped by the village grandmother, Tisya.
“Tisya! I have done it. Thank you for your encouragement and for telling me to seek after the Guru of the mountain. I have written a book. I am a writer now. I have caught my star, and it was in part because of you. Thank you.”
Tisya responded with happiness deep from within her, “I am so proud of you, Aklima! This was your star, and you hunted it down and caught it. Only your hard work made this possible, I am happy just to see you could do it.”
Aklima’s life changed from that day forward, and she changed the world by changing her own. She continued to write and produce more books for generations around the world to appreciate. From a young girl who struggled with the smallest tasks, she built herself with the help of those she admired, and she became the writer she dreamed of becoming. Aklima caught her star, changing her universe forever, while inspiring her sister Brija, her parents, Tisya, the great Guru Aashrash, and so many others that Aklima would never have the pleasure of knowing.
Aklima lived a happy life and her work lived on far beyond her- happily ever after.
