Footsteps

Footsteps

Now days I don’t feel like getting up early in the morning.The going out every morning for my ritual of four and half kilometers of walk around the lake is becoming an ordeal but still my mind commands the body to get up. So the routine is getting up, freshening and do some yoga and free hand , then head for lake.

After my walk I would sit at a designated bench by the side of lake when Babulal my side kick will come and give update about his activities. I have already introduced Babulal to the readers but let me once again give a short introduction. He is a short frail guy who had been assistant to a street magician in Delhi and a chela of a sadhu.By virtue of those experiences he knows a few magic tricks and is a street smart young man. Now a day he hangs around all the places of worships and earns money from worshipers by selling miracle pens. His morning beat is Lake Kali temple and thus he waits for me for any assignment. I pay him 500 bucks a month as retainer.

While we were talking a middle aged gentleman whom I see often and have nodding acquaintance came and sat next to me. He was looking pretty worried.

I smiled at him and enquired,” Any problem? I am samaranand”.

‘I am Pratul Banerjee” he introduced and then he said, “I have this strange feeling that as though someone is following me.’

“You mean now while you are taking a round of the lake?’’

“There is lot of surrounding noise here and also lots of people are here so even if someone follows me I will not be able to hear or distinguish that footstep.” He said.

“When do you feel someone is following you?”

“After dinner around 10 i go out for smoke to the corner shop then I hear the footsteps. I have  turned around but could not see anyone? The road is practically deserted at that time of night.”

“why someone will follow you? Do you own some land or old house then probably real state goons will be after you.”’

“Yes I stay in ancestral house with my wife and I have let out the ground floor to a businessman.”

“Has he offered to purchase off the house or any of his relatives?”

“No nothing like that happened?’

“May be you are having some affair and your wife is getting you followed.” I said jokingly to cheer him up.

For the first time he laughed and said, ‘” At this age?”
"When did you first felt someone was following you?'
"About 4 months back, just after my accident which i think someone staged to harm me."
"What really happened?"
"I was going by rickshaw to the market, i got down near the market when a motorbike hit me from the side. I fell down and my head started bleeding. The guy on the motorbike sped away. I was in hospital for 2 days for the injury , nothing abnormal was found on scanning. I was released after stitching."
"Oh,i see ,that is serious!"
"Can you help me to catch the fellow whose footsteps i hear?"

“Look I am no private detective but I love solving problems so if you don’t mind you can give me your address and I will try to solve the mystery of footsteps.”

He gave his address which is in Ballygaunge Place and asked me about my charges.

I told him to allow me to solve the problem and then I will tell. I asked for one-week time. While we were talking Babulal was keenly listening and when Mr.Banerjee left then Babulal with a big smile said, “ Now I know I will get an assignment from you.’”

I laughed out loud at his enthusiasm and said “Yes!” gave the paper on which Mr.Banerjee wrote his  address and mobile number.

“You stakeout his house during late evening till he goes to sleep. Also follow him from his house to lake or wherever he goes.”

He gave me a mock salute and said ‘Yes sir, and I am going to start my shadowing job right now !” He got up and ran towards the direction where Mr.Banerjee was headed.

After that day everyday Babulal would give his report at the lake where i would be sitting on my favorite bench. He did the shadowing job of Mr.Banerjee for 4 days. His report was thorough. He was keeping note like keeping a diary with date, time and place. He had not noticed anyone following Mr.Banerjee. It made me think whether Mr.Banerjee was paranoid, I know the modern life is stressful some don’t get proper sleep and start imagining things. I also thought it could be a paranormal case.I have read many stories about haunted house and mysterious footsteps.In the meanwhile I got hold of a book titled “The man who thought his wife is a hat” and it triggered me to think in different direction,

I rang up Mr.Banerjee and fixed up appointment at the same bench at the lake. That bench had become my virtual office. Me and Baulal were waiting for him. He was looking haggard and dragged himself to the bench. He looked at me and asked, “Could you find anything?”

"Yes and No. We are certain that no one is following you. But this information does not solve your problem.

“But I hear the footsteps and also I hear strange sounds.”

“ I was about to ask you whether you think you hear some strange sound and now you confirmed that. Will you mind visiting someone with me at 11AM today?”

“I don’t mind if my problem can be resolved by that gentleman.”
We took leave. I went back home and quickly took bath and breakfast.

At 11 i picked up  Babulal from the lake and headed for Mr.Banerjee's house. We picked him up in our cab. I had fixed up appointment with a Neurologist with whom i used to play golf in Royal Calcutta Golf Club.

Dr.Rajiv Ghose was waiting for us in his chamber in Lake Terrace. I had briefed him already about the symptoms.After some small talk he invited Mr.Banerjee to the patient’s chair in front of his table.

“Do you hear your own heartbeats or creaking sound of bones?”

“Yes, sometimes my ear gets jarred by my own heartbeat which I thought was because of my palpitating nerves as I have high blood pressure.”

Dr.Ghose took out a tuning fork and asked Mr.Banerjee to take off his shoes.

Dr.Ghose bent down and hit the tuning fork on the floor and then held it near Mr.Banerjee’s ankle. We were surprised to see Mr.Banerjee holding his ears with both hands and shouting , “Please stop that noise!”

We were not hearing any noise from the vibration of the tuning fork.

Dr.Ghose informed Mr.Banerjee that he has superior canal dehiscence syndrome and which is very rare. Because of thinning of temporal bone near our ear our hearing sensitivity increases many folds.He further explained as he was holding the vibrating tuning fork near his ankle bone the sound was travelling through the bone structure to his temporal bone near ear, thus whenever he was walking in the night when there was no other sound then he was hearing his own footsteps. This disorder was the reason of his hearing heartbeats and even creaking sound of his joints.Most likely this had been caused during that accident when he got the head injury.

Because I read that book "The man who thought his wife is a hat "which gives case histories of various such disorders hence I had the hunch that Mr.Banerjee was having one such problem and so I consulted Dr.Ghose. Of course most of the people are not aware of this disorder and treat the person as though he is paranoid.In villages such people are taken to tantriks or Ojhas or Oculists. 

We came out of Dr.Ghose's chamber and went to the nearest CCD for coffee. Mr.Banerjee was looking relieved and insisted for paying my fees. I advised him to pay whatever amount he wants to Babulal as  finding solution is my hobby and i don't accept anything for my hobby. He paid 10,000 to Babulal. 

Babulal got up and bowed at us and muttered something like as though he had some urgent work and left.
I advised Mr.Banerjee to get in touch with some multispeciality hospital for treatment. 

The talisman

The Talisman

Bijli baba temple of Mahadev,a Shiva Linga is theree

The ATR was full, though being a no frill flight but a complimentary breakfast was served, a cold sandwich, no hot coffee. I had to get up early in the morning to catch this 6.30 morning flight from Delhi. I was feeling sleepy but the beauty of the hills kept me awake. The plane landed on time in Bhuntar airport of Kullu.

I picked up my rucksack and walked out of the airport. I had no previous booking but could get a cheap hotel easily by the side of the airport, it was lean tourist season. After freshening up ordered breakfast and took a quick power nap after the breakfast. It was November and winter was setting in. I took out a pullover, went to the reception and requested for a taxi for the whole day.

I prefer to travel by SUVs in hilly areas, requested for a Qualis.

Kullu, once known as Kulanthpitha - "the end of the habitable world",, a picturesque town on the banks of Beas river. On the east of Kullu lies a broad mountainous ridge having the village-temples of Bijli Mahadev,

I had no fixed plan excepting to enjoy the beauty of the hill range. Ramesh the driver of the Quails suggested Hidamba temple in Manali,yes it is the same Hidamba wife of Bheem and mother of Ghatotkach. So we proceeded towards Manali. We finished our aloo paratha lunch midway. We were at the temple by noon. It is a wooden structure made like pagoda and cached in the forest of Deodars.The wet smell of the Deodar and the chimes of the temple transported me to another world. I was mesmerized by the beauty, smell and the sound. The bench by the side of the temple was quite inviting. I sat down and took a few snaps of the temple. The plaque indicated that the temple was built in 1553.

Our next stop was Bijli Mahadeva temple.. The surprising thing about Bijli Mahadev temple is that the dhwaza sthupa of the temple will attract lightening and thunder some days and at that time the main shiv ling will be broken into pieces by the lightening. The priest will reconstruct the shiv ling by using butter. The temple is perched on a hill on the way back to Kullu from Manali. We came out of Manali by another road running parallel to Beas River. I asked the driver to leave me midway to the temple so that I could trek. I never realized that during that journey the visit to that temple was not destined for me. After walking up for about one hour I was resting on a stone by the side of the hilly road. I was enjoying the beauty of Beas flowing below.

Suddenly I heard a groaning sound from the shrubs behind me. I got up and started walking towards the the source of the sound. After a few meters I found a small hut, there were two occupants, a young Lama and an old man of undetermined age. It is common knowledge that Tibetans have their base in Dharamsala in Himachal, so I was not surprised in seeing those Tibetans. Seeing me approaching, the young Lama was perplexed. I could feel that they were in a dire strait but at the same time they were quite suspicious about me. I addressed them in Hindi, "Can I help you?"

The old man was in some deep physical pain but he was the one who replied, "This is my hut and my friend Dhargey has recently come from Tibet. He could trace me through our center in Dharamsala. You can see that I am seriously ill."

I was quite surprised when he told me that the young man who had recently come from Tibet was his friend. Also I had doubt about that Lama, he could be a fugitive from China. The old man could sense my doubt and said, "Yes he has escaped from Tibet and he is not that young as he looks. The place from where he comes people don't age at the same pace as they do in the planes. Look at me, I have aged faster because I came here long back with Dalai Lama. The air there is pure and rarified."

"Is it Shangri-La the illusive place of James Hilton."

The old man smiled, "I have heard about that novel, The Lost Horizon."

I offered them coffee from the flask which I was carrying with me. While they were relishing the hot coffee I called Ramesh by my mobile.

'Can I take you to a doctor? I have conveyance with me."

"No please don't do that. We don't want to put you in trouble."

"Ok,then tell me where I can drop you, certainly this place is not conducive enough for you to stay , I can see you are quite weak and also you got to eat. You are not in a position to cook."

"I will like to go to Malana ,where some people of my clan are there, but that is about 60 kilometers from here."

"I know Malana, lot of backpackers from various countries camp there. There is a permanent establishment of Israelis and I understand they grow illegal Hashhish .I am also informed that foreign currencies and foreign goods are easily available there. I think you can get good doctor too."

"Yes i also know there is a good doctor. It will be a big trouble for you.'

"No ,please don't bother we will drop you and then stay in Manali, will not go back to Kullu."

I heard the voice of Ramesh outside the hut. We helped the old man through the forest to our Qualis and proceeded for Malana.The sun had just set, it was dark and chilly. I advised Ramesh to drive cautiously in the hilly road.

I kept looking at the Lama and wondered about the miracle of nature. He was smiling warmly at me and I could feel positive energy flowing from him to me.

He said something in a sing song voice to me, he spoke in Tibetan language , I could not follow him.

The old man who was lying with his head on the lap of Lama was dosing but he was alert.

He told me in Hindi, " Dhagey is describing the place from where he has come. He is quite nostalgic about that. The place is verdant, it is a kind of paradise and it is hidden deep in Tibet's Himalayas in a gorge. Tucked beneath a mountain spur at sharp bend of Tsangpo river gorge. It is in the forbidden region of Pemako.Once a group of American explorer stumbled on our lonely monastery."

I took out my Black Berry and Googled for Sagrilah,I could get a site which reproduced a newspaper account of a 1999 expedition done by explorers to a similar place as described by Dhagey..

I knew that there have been many attempts by explorers to search for the illusive Shangri-La, the place described by Dhagey could be one such place. There is lot of mysticism linked with Tibet. I recalled the vivid description of Tibet in the book "Seven Years in Tibet" by Heinrich Harrer.

The young monk looked serene and kept smiling at me and watched with curiosity my action with my Black Berry. I too smiled back at him and started thinking about the place described by him.

The young monk touched my hand ,something strange happened, I was magically transported to the place described by him.

We were standing on the mouth of the gorge in the monastery, I was in heavy sheepskin dress of a gown and body hugging pant, Dhagey was standing next to me. The mountain peaks were covered with snow, the river below was frozen in November. A deep sound of group chanting of hymns was wafting from the main hall of the monastery, the giant Dharmachakra was just at the entrance of the monastery. Dhagey smiled at me and nudged me to look around. At this high altitude tall trees were rare but there were patches of garden around.I inhaled the fresh unpolluted air and felt rejuvenated. My tiredness vanished, I felt fresh. Strangely I was not able to move around but I could see, feel and smell the surrounding. All my senses of enjoying beauty were working sharply . I did not see any other monk coming out of the monastery, it was as though I was a spectator of the scenes unfolding before me without me being a part of the divine show. I was suspended between dream and reality. I could not keep track of time as the canvas was frozen in time. Dhagey smiled mysteriously and plucked a leaf from a tree and put that in my hand.

With a start my stance was broken; the young Lama Dhagey was rubbing the forehead of the old man and nodded at me, as though welcoming me back to the real world. I was clutching a leaf. I was fresh like I never felt in years; it reminded me of my younger days when we used to get ready for a football match, eager and fresh. I put the leaf in my pocket with reverence.

We reached Malana valley in three hours. There were scattered light in the valley, a heavy fog had descended could see shadowy figures moving around, the old man asked us to stop near a shop. Inspite of my protest they got down there and assured me that they would be fine.

Somehow an invisible bond had developed between me and Dhagey because of that astral travel. Dhagey came forward to shake my hand and pressed a Talisman in my palm. He said something in Tibetan.

The old man translated, "Go in peace, whenever you are sad the Talisman will give you solace. With a clear mind you can experience astral travel with the help of the Talisman."

I watched them slowly melting in the dark hill side. I could feel the temperature had dropped below ten degrees. I felt sad, holding the Talisman tight I got in to the Qualis. We headed for Manali.

I have the Talisman now, but could never experience the Astral travel as my mind has been always full of conflicting thoughts. I suppose I have to focus my mind on one object like one does for meditation and then the Talisman can help me through. So many times after reading a travel book I tried to transport myself to those exotic places but failed to utilize the power of the Talisman. Now I must search for a real guru like Dhagey to guide me through my Astral travel or else master the meditation techniques to reach the higher level of mind control.

I am missing those good old days

I am missing those good old days

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On line purchase and home delivery is the latest fad going round but for me it is the return of the old practice with a difference and that is ordering on line. Take for example the on line grocery delivery thing like Big Basket, supply vegetables next day. During those good old days of 50s Chetri would come to our house everyday carrying fresh vegetable in his basket on his head.

Raymond advertises get your dress stitched to your measurement. Nothing new about it,those days it was one step further. Our household tailor Kaminibabu would come to the house, take our measurement, carry the cloth and finally will come back with our shirt pant stitched to our measurement. That was during our early school days. Later on I would shift my allegiance to Gunga Tailor in Shankar Market. Yes he was deaf and dumb but a first class tailor. During my IIT days tight narrow pant was in style (it is back in style now), so I will purchase pant cloth of my choice and head for Arora Tailors owned by Gunga in Shankar Market,New Delhi. We used to talk in sign language, I could explain him where I want it to be tight and which place should be loose. Two hip pockets, one inner pocket to tuck in money so that pick pockets can’t reach it. Yes for pants I would head for him and for shirt I would try in Gole Market.

Come to think of it even shoes I would get made to my choice and thus I shifted my loyalty from Bata to a cobbler in Ballimaran,Chandni Chowk. Once I had this shoe with air hole as upper got made by that cobbler. It was a hit in IIT.

Those days we would decide what we will eat, drink and which song we like unlike present days. Now there are food experts on TV advising what to eat, then there are n number of musical shows confusing people about good music. The songs played in the radio was our source and if our friend Ratan could play that song in his mouth organ then we all would start liking the song. More or less if anyone would sing any song then that was our song.I remember after I joined as Trainee in IOC,Gauhati once along with internal audit team I was heading for Cherapunji in 1966. There was this guy Kumar Choudhury in the audit team who had this battery operated tape recorder. During the journey he was playing some Hindi songs which we have never heard but I loved those songs instantly. He informed those are from yet to be released movie and he could get the songs from the music director himself. The music director was R D Burman and the film was Teesri Manzil. Yes that is how it was then, very first listening I got hooked to those songs unlike now when the producers pour their songs from every possible known sources to reach our ear drum.

Same is the story with food choice. For us during those school days if someone is giving party then it will be Chole puri in Bhagwan Das restaurant, Gole Market. Later on we graduated to Standard Coffee House in Connaught Place where we will have espresso coffee with hot dog. After joining IIT I got hooked to Moghlai Paratha, life was that simple no Tara Dalal or Jigs Kalra or Sanjeev Kapoor to guide us and no mumbo jumbo about Italian,Greek,Mexican,Lebonese etc. Straight food…dal,roti,subzi….no stomach problem…thank God I am still hooked to my old taste.

I am not guided by any of these so called experts, I choose my own without any guidance, if a dish looks complicated then I don’t try but then slowly the restaurants have stopped serving my kind of food. In Nainital this year we wanted to have chole bhature and found that those shops are selling chomein..slowly chowmein, momo  etc are replacing the typical street foods of the regions..

That is the reason why I miss those old days when decision making was simple and within the reach of common people…

More than any movie we would wait eagerly for those Ramlila days, when the Ramlila group would come in our neighbourhood..there we discovered that the role of Sita was enacted by a bidi smoking man..….our wait was not Ramlila exactly but for those plays like Sultana Daku,Puran Bhakat, Bhakt Prahlad etc which would be enacted on alternate days of Ramlila on a stage in one of the squares in Gole Market. There was entry ticket which was costing 25 paise then. It was a princely sum then but we never worried about that as our friend Subhash would produce counterfeit tickets for us. Subhash is now a part of a street play group in Delhi .

……oh those good old days!!!!

Were have all the ghosts gone?

I have this feeling that ghosts were there when we were kids but slowly those have left us as the population was exploding. But still when i go to a hill station i do come across some stories about sighting ghost . During my childhood days we would go for summer vacations to our mother's village ,Bipratikuri in Birbhum. Those days the village was not connected by road, no electricity, kerosene lanterns were the source of light at night.

It is about 7 km from Kankalitala near Bolpur.We would get down at Lavpur from a narrow gauge train and then travel by bullock cart to the village. It was backward in all respect with a middle school and a dispensary to boast.                

Kankalitala

Lavpur Station

With the sunset the village would be dark as there was no electricity. The kerosene lanterns were used extensively in the houses. The starlit sky or the moon would be the source of light. The kucha country road will be lighted by the diffused light coming out from the windows of the houses. We would hurry home after our evening outing to avoid darkness, often someone would have a torch. Walking down those half lighted roads and our moving shadows would give us goose bumps.The dark moonlit night would make our imagination to work in top gear.The reason for the thinking about the unknown was because we were from a modern city like Delhi where the evenings would be lighted by street lights and of course by all other lights from the various houses along the road, proportionately less of darkness than in villages .So the difference was that of between light and dark.At that phase of our childhood we would believe many of those ghost stories as we would listen ghost stories in the pitch dark night surrounded by dark outlines of palm trees creating an eerie ambience, the only source of light would be a kerosene lamp kept at the corner. We would sit closely huddled together when one of our maternal uncles would narrate some ghostly incident of the village .None of us would get up alone even for drinking water. I think today's children miss that thrill of the darkness and which generated much of the ghost stories. Now Hollywood has to produce those atmosphere by using special effect which we were getting free in those dark nights, it was the childhood thrills of unknown.

Then there would be some old broken down haunted houses in the village where nobody would be staying or may be some old lady would be staying alone. In our that village there was one such dilapidated house with a pond , we would not look at that house in the dark lest the ghost spots us. We heard many stories of ghost sighting in that house. Recently when i visited Bipratikuri i went to that house. I found that children were playing around that house and a club has come up, but that old house was still there. The pond was filled up.When asked about existance of ghost there those children laughed it off as a joke.

Third place of ghost sighting would be the adjoining burning ghat.We would hear many stories about how young men would lay bet to go there alone in moonless nights . . The scene of Srikanta ( Srikanta by Saratchandra Chattopadhya)accepting the challenge of spending the night in the burning ghat alone  ignoring the request of Rajlakhi would often play out in my mind.As a matter of fact i absorbed most of the nuances of that idyllic village through the writings of Saratbabu , including Indranath's escapades. .Indranath was fearless as per Srikanta. Indranath faced ghosts boldly , those days I believed that and would try to locate a fearless youngman like Indranath in that village.

That village has lost its charms now, there is a metalled road running by the side of the village,there is electricity, telephones,TV and all other the modern trappings.As usual there is violent politics of the kind we read every day in news papers,the goons have replaced the ghosts now.

It is said that ghosts have no religion, they don't fight with each other over religion.They also don't scare people with religious bias or prejudice.as a matter of fact the religious chanting scare them away.Looks like this fanaticism with the religions might be one of the reasons for their nonexistance in our spheres.Ghosts were secular in todays parlence.

I got this enclosure constructed around the banyan tree at the bus stop of Kankalitala around 1997 in memory of my mother. I am not sure whether today it is still there or not.

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