Are we the product of our activities, or do the orders of fate control us? Can we get everything by attempt, or does fate have another story to tell? Continue reading.
PK Mahanandia, an artist from Delhi, was sketching portraits of individuals for a small fee.
Flashback years ago: Small Mahanandia from Orissa, India, was advised by his mother he would marry a woman from Royalty, from a faraway land, the possessor of a musical ear, and the owner of a forest.
Current Era 1975 A.D., New Delhi: Charlotte wasn’t delighted with the rendition of this portrait. She came back a day later, but was not happy. Offhand Mahanandia asked her if she owned a woods, and if she had been a Taurean. She responded in the affirmative.
She’d come from Sweden to India across the Hippie course of the 70’s, running across Turkey, Iran, and Afghanistan. Charlette exclaimed in surprise, that she had a similar mini version of the wheelback home in Sweden.
From thereon, began his journey of love, on his bike, along the hippie-trail across the many states that Charlette traversed. He worked as an artist drawing portraits for individuals, who shared cash, food, and shelter with him. Nowadays, in the 70’s, one didn’t need a visa to travel across a number of these countries.
Afghanistan, a landlocked country surrounded by hills, was a peace-loving nation, with a taste for music, art, and civilization. He would traverse 70 km (approximately 40 miles daily )on his bike till his legs hurt.
Charlotte helped him get over the cultural shock he experienced in Sweden, was approved by her parents, and he married her, all for love-that love, according to him, hadn’t diminished since 1975, when the currently 64-year-old gentleman got married to Charlotte. They have their woods; he proceeds to sketch, and they live happily ever after.
So coming back to the question, are we the product of our activities, or do the orders of fate control us? Maybe both- Small Mahanandia being advised of his musical Princess, the owner of a woods, and believing it, Charlotte about this mini version stone wheel of the Sun Temple of Konark, as a part of her collection, and the coming together of the two people in Delhi.
However, without his actions of biking across states, do they have got married? Who knows? Who will explain the inexplicable? It was just for love.
The piano plays ; the woods continues to burst into blossom; the sketches become existence, and the Wheel of Destiny weaves its tapestry from the country, neighboring what, they predict, the land of the Midnight Sun.