Life, like tea, needs patience to reveal its true flavor.

After visiting Kal Vairav and Sankatmochan, we rushed back to the hotel for a bit of rest. Soon after, we headed to Assighat by scooter rickshaw. It was noon, but the December sun in Banaras was gentle. 

This was one of our annual pilgrimages to the ancient, holy city. I was pleasantly surprised to see the impact of the Clean India movement on the ghat—it was visibly cleaner than last year. This time, I nudged my wife to climb the stairs leading to a Pizzeria that served wood-fired pizza. 

We took a seat facing the Ganges, noticing that most of the customers were foreign tourists. The menu was a mix of Italian and Indian dishes. After savoring pizza and coffee, we headed back toward the riverbank to catch a boat.

            “What’s the rush?” A voice broke the quiet urgency of our steps. I looked back to see a sadhu sitting on the steps, a small kettle and tea-making paraphernalia arranged around him.

        “Don’t stop, keep walking!” my wife whispered sternly. She knows my tendency to get drawn into conversations with sadhus, which often end with me parting with more money than wisdom. Ignoring her, I walked toward him.

   The sadhu smiled, a twinkle in his eyes. “I’m in a hurry to keep a schedule, so I’m going to catch a boat,” I explained. “We are all in a hurry, going up and down the stairs of life,” he mused. “Some rush down to the Ganges, hoping it will wash away their sins.” Intrigued, I couldn’t resist engaging further. 

      My wife tugged at my sleeve, but I stayed. “I suppose one dip can’t cleanse the sins of a lifetime,” I offered. “But it gives a momentary sense of relief.” “Yes,” he said, nodding. “The dip cleanses the visible dirt on the body, but not the subconscious.” His words struck me as profound. I have always believed that not all sadhus are frauds. Some, I feel, have chosen this path to escape the chaos of life.

    I wanted to know more about this one. “How long have you been a sadhu?” I ventured to ask. He laughed, a rich sound that echoed off the stone steps. “You are a sadhu too, in your moments of solitude. A family man like you gets only brief moments of silence, but in those moments, you find peace. I might give 50% to my sadhuness, but you, perhaps, give 10%.” 

     I smiled at the thought and sat beside him.

    My wife, realizing she couldn’t pull me away, went down to arrange the boat. The sadhu began pumping his kerosene stove to make tea. In the chilly afternoon by the Ganges, a cup of tea was welcome. He carefully boiled water, added tea leaves, then tulsi, and let it steep. 

   When I asked for black tea, without milk or sugar, he teased, “Have you used up your life’s quota of sweetness already?” When he handed me the tea in a clay *kulhar*, the aroma was extraordinary. I sipped, savoring the warmth. “This is wonderful,” I said, genuinely impressed. “You see,” he replied, “to make good tea, I had to control the boiling time, measure the ingredients, and let it steep just right. Life is like that. You have to endure the boiling, the hardship. But if you wait patiently and put in the effort, something beautiful will come of it. There are no shortcuts.” 

 N  His words, simple yet layered with meaning, resonated deeply. I realized he wasn’t just offering tea—he was offering wisdom. In today’s world, few people give their time; most give only money. As we talked, I felt the rush of my day slip away. He seemed to be enjoying our conversation as much as I was. 

     At one point, he pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. “Open this when you’re alone,” he said. Then, picking up an unusual guitar with only one string, he began to strum it softly, chanting "Om." The deep, rhythmic sound from the lone E string filled the air. Curious, I asked, “Why does your guitar have only one string?” “You’re observant!” he chuckled. “The other strings are unnecessary for me.

  This one string is enough to chant ‘Om.’ Sometimes, less is more.” I took this as my cue to leave. As I stood up, I instinctively reached into my pocket for money, but there was no bowl, no place to offer it. He didn’t expect any.               As   I walked down the steps toward the river, the boatman waiting, he said, “Ah, you had a long chat with the *ketlibaba*?” “Does he serve tea to everyone?” I asked. “No, not many stop to talk to him. He mostly sits there, reads books, and plays that odd guitar. I’ve heard he’s from a wealthy family—different from other sadhus.”

       Later, back at the hotel, I opened the envelope. Inside was a letter.

 --- **Dear Friend,**

 I don’t know your name, but when you passed by, I felt a strange sense of familiarity. I’m not truly a sadhu, at least not permanently. I’ve been playing the role for a month as part of an exclusive group of professionals who, like me, sometimes feel the need to step away from the rat race. This spot on the ghat is reserved for those in our circle, and there are people around who ensure our safety. I’m the CEO of an MNC and was once as disturbed as you might be. I met the previous *ketlibaba* here and, after a conversation, received this same letter. After discussing it with my family, I decided to spend a month living as a sadhu. You’ve been chosen as the next *ketlibaba*. You have ten days to decide. There’s a guest house where you can stay, with food and lodging provided. When your month is over, you’ll pass on the letter to someone else, just as I’m doing with you. If you're interested, call me at the number below.

 Regards, Ketlibaba ---

 I was stunned. The offer was both bewildering and intriguing. Could I, too, escape for a month? Would I find what this man had found? Back in Kolkata, I would discuss it with my wife and son. Maybe I’d bring along my books and painting supplies for my newly acquired hobby. What do you think, my friends? Should I take the plunge? --- **Philosophical Reflections:** 1. *“Life is like tea. It requires patience, effort, and the right balance of ingredients to make it worthwhile.”* 2. *“We are all climbing the stairs of life, some rushing up, some down, but the true journey is within.”* 3. *“Solitude is the rarest luxury for the modern mind. Those brief moments of silence are where we glimpse our true selves.”*

Faith and belief

Faith and belief

Somehow when we put these two words together then the discussion tends to veer towards religion. Here I am trying to postulate that all of us have some faith and belief based on common observations or scientific facts.

The other day I was having this discussion with Dr.Kamal Chakraborty,the founder of Bhalopahar in Purulia which runs a free of cost education and healthcare for poor tribal children. He pointed out that it is the nature which is God for him. I fully agree with him as we could not have been there without sun, moon,soil,water,air,fire etc. any scientific minded cynic would agree with me on this as our very existence depends on these basic elements. So our ancestors be it in India or Greek or Egypt were not wrong when they were worshiping these. Every civilization worshiped these but they put some symbols or names to these elements.

In Hindu mythology we have Gods for all these or in other words our ancestors understood that these are higher forces on which we don’t have any control,  superior to us mortals. Giving form to each is something like making it available to all. For example Hanumanji is considered as Vayuputra means son of wind God, wind is everywhere practically excepting probably in vacuum chambers or some natural pockets of vacuum formed. Every civilization have worshiped Sun, it was no rocket science for those thousands years old civilization to understand that Sun rises on it’s own and sets on it’s own routine, so it is superior to human beings. Yes superior is the operating concept here which is termed as God.

Our setup is dealing with windmills we found that the intensity of flow of wind varies every year , there is no correct prediction. For example we are still trying to guess what will be the wind pattern next year. The factors effecting the wind pattern comes out after carrying out analysis of the event which had happened in the past but what will be the pattern  next year is any body’s guess. So wind is definitely a superior being than human beings understanding. So what do we do, last year I told my staff to carryout puja of Hanumanji  before the high wind season. Here I am not saying that because of that we got good wind last year  this year even after doing puja at the same period comparatively wind was less. It is my faith in Hanumanji which made me to carryout puja, it does not make me religious as some of my left leaning friends will infer.

We were to do acid cleaning of the first boiler in Singrauli Thermal Power Station of NTPC way back in 80s, the acid cleaning pumps were failing during trial and we could not start the activity. MrS K Dasgupta, the then O&M chief of NTPC came to me and said,” You have started the activity without conducting a ceremonial puja and so it failed!”

His second in command Mr.H P Das who had joined from Renupower said,”In Renusagar we would start any activity by doing a puja of Langtababa who is known to be the popular deity of the place !”

So we carried out complete re erection of the system and started the activity after conducting puja of Langtababa, on the first push itself all the four pumps ran smoothly and we completed our activity without any hitch.It was the result of our effort plus the faith, that puja did the bonding between all the workers , officers etc involved from NTPC,BHEL,Contractors etc c transcending caste,creed and religion. It was not a case of blind faith but bowing ones head to a superior being, all those involved were engineers from all possible reputed colleges. It is an accepted practice in the field to start of any major activity after carrying on a puja .

When I took possession of ED’s bungalow in Bhopal it was suggested by Buniyad Ali that I should do puja. I advised him to bring a priest and also a mauluvi and if possible a Christian priest. It was like all religion fare to drive out any bad spirit lurking around the house. I spent my time peacefully in that house and my father, who  most of the time was with me then, enjoyed his stay.

I have this problem with my big toe nail, I can’t clip it with the nail clipper. When this time I went to Varanasi I searched for the barber in Assighat from whom I had got my toe nail clipped in previous visit. His instruments were there but he was not there, I inquired from the people around and nobody seemed to know about his hereabout. By the way we were in Assighat after visiting Kaal Vairav and Sankat Mochan temples. We took a boat from Assighat to Dashawamedh ghat, after landing in Dashashwamedh ghat I caught hold of a roadside barber and asked him whether he would cut toe nail. He said, ‘’ Now a days we don’t do that!’’ So I returned to Kolkata without getting my toe nail trimmed.

Next Saturday after our return from Varanasi I went for my usual morning walk of 4.5 kms, my driver Gopal informed me that my wife has found out a roadside barber near the market who can cut my toe nail. We went to that barber , he readily agreed. On the footpath I sat on a stone and the barber started cutting my nail. He cut through my flesh and it started bleeding, I looked down and seeing blood I started feeling giddy, I asked the barber to stop cutting, asked Gopal to bring the car, I was feeling like lying down. He brought the car I got up to get in the car and fainted. I must disclose here that I have this phobia of feeling nauseating and fainting at the sight of blood. It had happened many times in the past.I go off for a minute or so and then become normal but for Gopal it was first time. He drove me home fast. At home I hit the bed and took a long rest.

Then I told my wife supposing we would have located that barber in Assighat and same incident would have happened then what would have been her condition alone with me out of senses.I explained to her it was Kal Vairav or the God of time shifted the event which was certain to happen to a more favorable time and place, I don’t have any other explanation than this. Why didn’t I get that barber in Assighat that day or why the barber at Dashwamedh ghat expressed his inability to carry on with the job? A rationalist may say it is one of those coincidences.

For me the Time is the biggest power , Time makes or breaks us. I believe we derive our fate from the good wishes of people whom we help, this trait i got from my parents.I always carry  some 10 rupees note with me to give to poor , practically every day i give those notes  during my morning walk around the lake. The giving gives me mental solace .
So why do i go to Varanasi every year? I don't carry out any ritualistic puja but i make it a point to visit Kaal Vairav and Sankat Mochan temples, i walk by the side of Vishwanath temple, watch people and their devotion. I love walking on Dashashwamedh ghat as i could see people not only from India but from throughout the world, it's amazing experience. I have spoken to some of those foreign tourists about their visit of Varanasi, all of them admitted to enjoy the ambiance of the ghats and temples. Yes i too enjoy the vibration which i feel when i walk on those ghats or those narrow lanes of Varanasi. 

Sadhu on the step

 Sadhu on the step

…………………………..

After visiting Kal Vairav and Sankatmochan we rushed back to hotel for rest. After a while we headed for Assighat by a scooter rickshaw. It was around noon but the sun of December month was not harsh in Banaras. It was one of our yearly visit to this thousand of years old holy city.

The clean India movement was very much visible at the ghat, found it to be cleaner than last year. This time I nudged my wife to climb the stairs leading to Pizzaria restaurant where Pizza baked in wood fire oven is available.

Having taken a seat facing Ganges noticed that most of the customers were foreign tourist, the menu card showed Italian preparations in addition to Indian cuisine. We had pizza and coffee and then headed for the river bank to catch a boat.

“What is the hurry?’ I heard a sound thrown at us. I looked back and found the smiling face of a sadhu perched on the steps. Around him were arrangement for preparation of tea and personal belongings.

‘’Don’t stop, keep walking !” my wife hissed at me. She knows that I have this weakness for sadhus and get into discussion with them, finally land up shelling out money .

I ignored her caution and walked up to the sadhu , he gave a knowing smile with twinkle in his eyes.

“I am in a hurry to keep my programme, so going to catch a boat, that is why I was climbing down the stairs.” I informed him.

“We are all going up and down the stairs of our life, here some go down to take a dip in the holy Ganges thinking that it will wash off all sins.”  he said philosophically. His  these words made me interested in continuing the conversation, my wife started pulling the sleeve of my blazer but I stayed on.

“Yes I know one dip cannot wash away the accumulated sins of years or for that matter any dip at all but it gives a momentary satisfaction !” I said.

“Yes, the dip is significant for cleaning the visible dirt on the body but not the subconscious!” I was impressed by these words, he appeared to be a learned sadhu. I have a theory that all sadhus are not fraud, there are some who have chosen this path to get away from the routine life.I am always in the lookout for such wise sadhu.

‘’How long have you been sadhu?” I took the liberty of asking this personal question.

He laughed out loud and said, “You too are sadhu but that moment comes to you when you are alone, your mind is more or less a vacuum but those moments for family man like you are far and few. The other thoughts related with your day to day chores keep you occupied subconsciously. For us we get into that state of vacuum more frequently. If I give 50 out of hundred to my sadhuness then you will get 10.”

I sat down on the step besides him and my wife went down to fix a boat.

In the meanwhile, the sadhu started pumping the kerosene stove and started boiling water. In that windy winter afternoon by the side of Ganges a cup of tea was welcome. He took lot of care in boiling the water and then put tea leaves, put off the stove, put some tulsi leaves. Allowed the concoction to soak for about 3 minutes, I requested him not to put sugar and milk, I wanted it to be black.

“What you have already consumed your life quota of sweet?’’ he said teasingly while handing over tea in earthen glass, kulhar to me .

I took a sip of the tea, it was not scalding hot but the taste and aroma were out of this world. I complimented him for the tea.

“You might have noticed that to produce that tea I controlled the boiling time of the water and also put tea,tulsi in measured quantity. Our life is like this tea, to enjoy the life one has to go through hardship, like I boiled the tea. I could have boiled the tea leaves along with water and save time but I did not do that. For every good thing you have to wait for your time but that will come only if you have put sincere effort.”

I could know that I was talking to a learned man who has turned himself to a genuine sadhu and his offering tea to me was meant to give some wisdom to me as I gave my time to him. In today’s busy world no one wants to give time but doesn’t mind giving money.

I could make out he was enjoying our discussion, I also started feeling relaxed as he put a break to my rush to catch the boat.
He pulled out an envelope , handed that to me and said, "Open that when you are alone after you leave this place."

He picked up a guitar lying by the side of him, it had only one string. I was surprised as I knew either there are 4 or 6 strings in guitar so I asked curiously about the guitar.

‘’You are pretty observant! My this guitar is having only the last E string, see the grooves of the other five are vacant. I can easily strum this string and chant OM .” He strung the E string, the thickest string of the guitar which was making thung, thung sound rhythmically  and started chanting OM by closing his eyes. I could sense that our conversation has come to an end, Istood up, I wanted to give some money but there was no bowl or box for money anywhere visible. I slowly started walking off to the bank of Ganges where a boatman was waiting for us.

“You had quite a long discussion with ketlibaba!” the boatman said.

“Does he serve tea to everyone?” I asked.

“I have not seen many people talking to him, mostly he sits there and reads books and strums his that odd guitar.I heard that he belongs to a rich family, unlike other sadhus!”

After boarding the boat I looked up at the steps , the sadhu was busy chanting Om and the sound of the E string from a distance was casting a spell , the sun was slowly setting casting long shadows of the edifices on Ganges.

After returning to the hotel i opened the envelope and found a letter. 
Dear Friend,
I don't know your name but the moment you crossed me it appeared as though i know you. I am not a sadhu but i am pretending to be one for 1 month till i pass on this mantle to someone for a month. Let me explain, there is a group of professionals who have formed this exclusive club for professionals who sometimes feel to get out of the rat race for sometime, a kind of sojoun. This spot where i am sitting has been reserved by that group and there are people around who make sure nothing untoward happens. I am top man of a MNC and was disturbed, like you i came to Varanasi and met the Ketlibaba here, he was also a disturbed soul like me. We had conversation and he passed on the letter to me asking me to become sadhu for one month. I went back home, had discussion with my family, came here and have almost finished one month. The group has a guest house where i stay and if you wish to become next Ketlibaba then you too can stay, fooding and lodging are free. Whatever you saw around me will be yours of course not the one string guitar because that's my personal instrument. You don't have to carry these items everyday as there is a guard who looks after these. Yes, you have to get gerua uniform of your size. Before completion of your stint you have to select the next one and give a similar letter to him. I know you are curious to know how it works, who is funding? This organisation is funded by some HNIs ( high net worth individuals) as an experiment which may in future roll to some more sacred places.I have selected you as the next Ketlibaba after scanning a few. You have 10 days time and contact me on the mobile number given at the bottom.
Regards,
Ketlibaba.

I was not ready for this but the offer was unique. I was thinking why not take a chance? After returning to kolkata i have to discuss with my wife and son, then probably i may take the plunge.He carried his guitar, i will carry some of my books and painting set for my newly acquired hobby. What do you say friends?

The trip

                              Me and my brother in Kullu valley

The trip

……………..

We were coming out of gate number of 2 of Vishwanath temple of Varanasi through the narrow lane towards Godhulia when I spotted Pyarelal going up the stairs of the popular Brown bread bakery. Here I must introduce Pyrelal, I met this colorful man on the way to Manali from Kulu in a dhaba. Me ,my brother Chandan and Verma had just visited a hydro plant and were having muli paratha lunch in that dhaba. 

                                  The Israeli in the dhaba

We noticed there were some foreigners in fatigue enjoying the typical Indian cuisine and one smart local fellow was with them. The foreigners left after lunch but that Indian guy stayed back. I was curious about the foreigners so I walked towards that Indian, he gave a welcoming smile and I sat down with him. He said his name was Pyarelal, I introduced myself.

“You people must be visitor here.” He said.

“yes, we came for some work.”

“I stay in Kulu but keep visiting Malana valley.”

“ You mean where there is hydro power plant?” I inquired.

“Yes, pretty near to that there is a valley where foreigners come for camping. I cater to their need of groceries.”

“ Why suddenly foreigners visit such an obscure valley?”

He smiled mysteriously and said,” High quality grass is grown there . Italian were first to arrive in the village in early 70s, in Malana,. In 70s cannabis was solely used for medicinal purpose for humans and as well as goats. Even the fibres of the plant was also used to make ropes and fabric, though Himalayan sadhus were the only one who knew the potential of this plant and smoked the intoxicant power to stimulate their consciousness. Italian when settled in camps near the valley soon discovered the potential of the plant, and the first who taught villagers to rub the plant and churn it into 10 times more potent hashish or charas. The rest of Malana story is legend, now producing the most expensive and powerful charas in the world. –“

It was news for me and beyond my imagination.

I got interested and asked about those foreigners who were with him.

“Oh! Those were Israelis who are actually controlling the drug trade in this area operating from Kasol.By the way Kasol is often called Mini Israel. But then because of cannabis hippies from all over the world come to this valley.You will be surprised to know that currencies of all first world countries are traded here. The trade is done in dollar term.”

I was totally flummoxed by that piece of information. He gave lots of information about the scenic valley with back packers camping there.

Thus I came in contact with Pyarelal.

                                   Brown Bread Bakery in Viswanath temple lane

I asked my wife to go back to hotel and followed Pyarelal to Brown Bread Bakery in that narrow lane. This bar is in the second floor. I spotted Pyarelal in a corner table  with some foreign tourists. Seeing me he gave a big smile and invited me to sit with his group. He spoke to them in some foreign language and introduced me. I said “Hello” to them.

“Which country do you guys belong?”

“We are from Spain.” In halting English one of them replied.

“ How come you are here? Is it do with cannabis or what?” I mischievously asked Pyarelal in Hindi.

“Yes, something like that.” He winked at me.

                                      Assighat

We spent sometimes there ,it was getting dark , he invited me to accompany them to Assighat. I have noticed most of the low end tourists stay in various lodges around Assighat. That place also has many restaurants serving foreign tourists from nations like Spain,Italy, China, Japan etc. We went to one of the lodges along Ganges. I came across so many back packers there. We walked into a big room where already a mix group of male female back packers were there. I could smell hashish or cannabis, hear a very soft raga on sitar in the dim light. All were sitting on the floor. It was dreamy ambience, in my bachelor days I had a few drag of charas with my friend Thampi in Indian Oil,Barauni. I was a bit hesitant but Pyarelal held my hand gave a reassuring squeeze. In typical Indian style we sat down by occupying one of the walls as backrest and waved at the group in general. As Pyrelal was known to them so I was readily accepted. A chillum was getting passed from hand to hand. I was already high after visiting temple and meeting Pyarelal unexpectedly. My turn came and I took a cautious half lungful drag. There was no effect only my throat became dry, i coughed. In the meanwhile Pyarelal was expertly handling the chillum. Another chillum came to me, too many chillums were in circulation. It went on and lost count of drags I took, I was feeling light. Pyrelal in the meantime was busy in talking with a young girl.

I did not know when I got up and walked out.I was standing in the balcony, the freezing wind from Ganges was hitting my face. I was feeling light as though weightless, I was in a very happy mood.  A shadowy figure approached me, the posture looked familiar. I was shocked ,I was looking at younger me. I looked closely , it was me of Barauni when I was weighing less than 65 kg.

“How are you?” younger me asked.

“I am fine .” I stammered.

“What have you done to my body? You added more than 20 kgs  of weight and 10 inches in the waistline. Grey falling hair is understandable. Have you stopped playing games , you have fallen in the trap of change of life style.” My younger self admonished me.

“ Yes I know I have gain weight and struggling to reduce.” I said lamely.

I was happy to see me of 1969 or so, in that drain pipe pant and a woolen jacket of that era. I thought I must be hallucinating, “ You are not real, it is trick of my mind playing with me. How is it possible?”

“Why I am with you always,true it is all in the mind , there is a switch and you have to select the happy moment of your life. Today unknowingly you chose your Barauni  bachelor days as you consider those as your happiest moments in your adult life also you were introduced to charas then. This selection was not in your hand. It was that grass which you inhaled decided for you.”

“True,left to me I would have chosen those happy school days with my parents in Delhi. No responsibility excepting passing exams.”

“Well you will get chance for that too but not tonight. You better leave this place and head for hotel.Come I will leave you to hotel.”

Both of us got down and took an auto for the hotel. I felt sleepy but the younger me was holding me steady. The auto driver was suspiciously looking back when we were talking.

I paid the auto driver, he held me and helped to the elevator. We reached our floor and knocked on the door of my hotel room.

My wife opened the door, she looked baffled at both of us. Younger me said,” Don’t worry he is alright.”

“Yes I am alright but feeling sleepy.”

“Let me help you to change.” Both of us together struggled to change my cloth. I dived to bed and asked him to join me. He joined me without a word and snugly held me in the bed.

 I suddenly woke up and found my wife putting water on my face, it was morning.

“Hey hey what are doing?”

“You were making some strange noise and calling out your own nick name repeatedly. Are you alright?”

“Yes I am.” I said guiltily then started looking for him in the bed.

“What are you searching? Last night you behaved strangely, you were talking in two voices.” Worriedly she said.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes I am fine now, last night i had a few drinks more than my regular quota.”

I did not tell her about my last night’s indulgence with drug and meeting my younger self.

Thank God that I had a good trip after smoking the grass, it could have been worse.
                                                                         

Younger me and now me.