Straight drive...

Golf is like a love affair. If you don't take it seriously, it's no fun; if you do take it seriously, it breaks your heart. ~Arthur Daley They say that the golf is a game where the course is your opponent. In this game like in other ball games you don't have a moving ball, it is stationary on the ground.You got to hit that stationary ball and so it appears to be a very easy game for any one who has not played golf. But then ask those who are playing golf for years but still could not master those drives, chips, pitch, putts. To play this game one has to remember 3Cs, concentration,control and confidence..well i was doing just that when i took position for my drive at 4th Tee. The ball flew to the left, i was careful that the ball should not go to the right in the jungle.It was drizzling. i was playing alone and my caddy Hoolo was carrying my bag . I had my umbrella and Hoolo was wrapped in rain coat with his face practically hidden in the hood. It was slowly becoming dark. Hoolo could locate the ball, i walked to the ball and gave the driver to Hoolo. I pulled out 6 iron from the golf bag, aligned myself with the flag, took position with slight knee bend and back straight.In the rainy season it is preferred lie as per local club rule. Hoolo had kept the ball on the tip of the grass.I took a few practice swing and then I swung the club with half rotation of the body, i don't go for full swing as a precaution against the likely damage of hip, shoulder and knee joints.My drive could cover 180 yards and with 6 iron i covered another 120 yards. Now i was within 70 yards of the green. I picked up the pitching iron, took stance and swung the ball to the green. The ball rolled to the far edge, the hole was at 15 feet. I took out my new putter Itsy Bitsy of Taylormade.I squatted at the back of the ball and judged the lie of the green, Hoolo took out the flag from the hole, he pointed 3 inches off left of the hole. I took a few practice stroke of the putter, placed it behind the ball and rolled the ball towards left of the hole. The ball rolled but as the green was wet so it stopped short by 2 feet of the hole.So it was one more putt and got a bogie in that hole. The Tee off at the 5th green is quite tricky as the boundary wall is at the right and beyond that is the shed of Calcutta Metro. I have lost many balls by driving the ball beyond the boundary wall. This time i took aim towards the left, the ball was on the Tee, with eyes down i took a few practice swing of my Taylormade Burner. Then i took position towards the left and swung the driver, the ball went high to the left among the trees.It was raining still and was getting darker. I could see the shadowy figure of Hoolo at a distance. I purposefully walked towards the trees,Hoolo waived his hand towards right. I found that the ball was at the centre of the fairway, i was surprised that it had not gone to the cluster of trees. Hoolo took the driver from me and gave 7 iron.The rain was still there but then i wanted to complete rest of the holes in the semidarkness. I took aim , took a few practice swing and hit the ball. I could not see the ball , i did not see even Hoolo. I walked towards the green. To my surprise i found the ball lying 1 foot away from the hole.I putted the ball and got a birdie on that par 4 5th green.i was expecting applause from Hoolo but he was not there.I picked up the ball from the hole and put that in my pocket. It had started raining heavily i ran to the golf shed near the 6 th Tee off point. There was a different club boy standing with dab and water in the shed. He smiled at me and said," " Sir you scored birdie in that hole." “Yes," i said but was surprised that he had noticed that in that rain, but then how could he count the strokes from my Tee off point. I was quite perplexed but i was quite proud with my game of that day. I tipped him 50 rupees. "Shukriyasaheb, you scored hole in one in 6th a few months back. I missed your backshish on that day." He was speaking in typical Urdu mixed Hindi.He was funnily dressed. I was quite surprised that he knew about my scoring hole in one. Hoolo was not still visible anywhere.I asked that club boy to tell Hoolo to come near the Shamiana. As the rain had increased so i abandon the game and taking cover under my umbrella cut across the 7th green and then 1st green towards the club house. The club canteen shamiana was not much crowded that day because of the rain.I ordered a hot cup of coffee. Still i could not get my caddie. I went towards my car in the car park. there i found Hoolo standing with my driver Gopal, both looked worried. I was furious on Hoolo. "Where did you go?" i shouted at him. "It was raining heavy so i shouted at you that i am going and asked you to come." "But you gave me 7 iron in 5th fairway and took my driver." " No sir here is your golf bag and 7 iron is here." "What about putter? I scored birdie with that." "Sir here is your new Itsy Bitsy putter. But sir, your TaylormadeBurmner is missing." "Then who was that caddie who located the ball and was carrying bag up to the 5th green. But after i sank the ball i did not see him." "Sir every one has come out of the course including the club boy in the shed." " I saw a different club boy there. He seemed to have seen me scoring birdie. I was quite surprised." I was worried. That driver was new and also thinking about the whole incident started giving me goose pimples. My drive was certainly going towards the trees but that caddy found it lying in the centre of the fairway. He gave me 7 iron and then took the 7 iron from me on the green. He handed over a putter but i did notice the make. I remembered to have carried the putter to the shed and left that on the bench.In a hurry to rush back to the club house because it got dark and the rain had increased i totally forgot about the putter. Hoolo was aghast and started chanting " Ram." I asked my driver and Hoolo to accompany me to the shed near 6th Tee off place. Hoolo was not ready to come, he told me that next morning he would search the driver.He was pale from fear and i started getting goose bumps. "Ok, tell me when the hard core golfers come in the morning?" "Just at the day break, 5.45am." Gopal drove me back to my flat. Next day i reached Tollyclub before the day break. Hoolo was waiting for me. Me, Gopal and Hoolo proceeded to 6th green. We went to the golf shed but did not find my Taylormade driver there. We started walking on the fairway of 5th green, suddenly Hooloshouted , "Sir come here and see." Near the 6th Tee off point there is a grave yard. Hoolo was standing in side the grave yard.It is believed that those three graves bang next to the 6th Tee off point are those of Johnson family who owned the property around that place before the club was established. But the ornate design on the grave had Muslim touch. Me and Gopal went near the graves, my Taylormade driver was lying beside the graves, also by the side was lying the 50 rupees note which i had tipped to that Urdu speaking club boy. My head started spinning, Gopal lifted the Driver. I asked them not to take that 50 rupees note. Hoolo was trembling in fear. I was looking at Hoolo and started thinking whether he was the real guy or the one who was with me yesterday on that 5th green.I touched him, he was the real one but then who was that caddy who assisted me to get that birdie. Did that really happen or was that a figment of my imagination. Three of us were standing there dumbstruck..slowly the day was breaking. Gopal my driver asked, "Babu ,are you sure that you played on 5th green yesterday? You might have left that driver in the shed. The driver might have been pulled to that place by those foxes which roam the course freely." "What you say is possible, due to the inclement weather i might have been day dreaming." I said those words in order to lighten the situation but the event of the previous evening was quite vivid in my mind.That friendly ghost helped me in scoring a birdie by placing a wayward ball in the centre of the fairway.The second shot by 7 iron was also an out of the world stroke as the ball fell within 1 foot of the hole. After that evening i have stopped playing in the afternoons, in the morning whenever i pass that grave yard while playing golf i thank that unknown soul but my hand automatically reaches for my sacred thread.

Illusive characters...virtually possible 4

Virtually possible Part 4…Illusive characters

Samaranand slowly opened his eyes, a lingering drowsy feeling was there. He found himself lying in a strange bedroom in some high-rise building, he guessed the room to be on 5^th  or 6^th floor. It was a neat bedroom with tastefully decorated walls and light curtains draping the windows. He could see the wall clock showing 8pm, but then he tried to recall how he landed here. He was still in his street dress of corduroy trousers, black and white striped shirt with his loose fitting fleece half jacket. His feet were bare. He remembered to have come to the Kolkata Book Fair to check the sale of his newly published book in stall number 488.While he was wracking his brain to remember then a middle aged person with a small paunch, loose shirt and high-powered specs smilingly entered the room and said, “Thank god you are back in senses, I was contemplating to call a doctor.’

Seeing that gentleman Samaranand recalled the event of the evening.

He just came out of the book stall 488 of Abhijan when he was confronted by that gentleman who introduced himself as Nirod Dey. He was selling books written by himself when Samaranand jokingly told him ,” I can purchase your books provided you purchase my books from that stall!’’

Thus he got connected with that friendly soul, both took round of the book fair together. That afternoon he had heavy lunch of illish fish and rice , though morning started with a heavy breakfast of pea kachuri. Those stuff were still struggling in his stomach to get digested but then he while talking to that Mr.Dey forgot about the heavy food. He could feel the mild stomach growling. He with Mr.Dey walked out of gate number 5 ,crossed the road towards the car park. Mr.Dey suggested to have jhaal muri so that he could spend some more time with Samaranand. He agreed reluctantly inspite of the growling stomach. After having a few fistful of that concoction of muris with all kind pf fries he started feeling dizzy, he started looking for a place to sit and then everything went blank.

That Mr.Dey was standing in front of him.

“Do you go out like this often?” Mr.Dey asked him.

“Yes, I have this problem of fainting when I have some odd combination of food in quick succession, probably a gastro problem, unfortunately today is one such day. Where am I ?”

“You are in my office cum house in Rajarhat, I brought you here when you fainted. Should I call a doctor?”’

“No, please don’t bother. I must leave now.”

Mr.Dey smilingly said ,”You can’t leave now, there is something else we have to discuss. My meeting was not accidental but it was designed like that and your fainting came handy to execute the plan. I have been following you for quite sometimes. Now you take rest, there is kurta, pajama of your size in the cupboard. You can freshen up in the attached bath. I think you will not like to have heavy dinner, I will organize some light food.’

Samaranand was taken aback by the preposterous proposal about his not living for home.

“No, I am feeling alright now, this is not the first time that this type of blackout happened to me, you please make arrangement for my going home.” He told these words rather sternly.

Mr.Dey without losing cool smiled at him and said, “It is for your good we are holding you back here ! Your family has been informed.”’

“Are you holding me as a hostage or what? “

“If you think like that then I can’t help! I want to have some conversation with you!”

“Is it something to do with Soumaya?”

“You will come to know by tomorrow. In the meanwhile, you can freshen up and join us in the office. We work for 24 hours and all the days of the week.” Mr.Dey left the room. Samaranand put his hand in the pocket and found his mobile, he quickly punched the number of his wife but the call was not getting through, he tried for some time but then realized that it was futile, there must be a jammer to block the call. Almost all the IT companies put jammer. He derived that he must be in some IT company as the fellow mentioned that they work for 24 hours and also while he mentioned Soumaya’s name then the guy reacted as though he knew who Soumaya was.

Samaranand quickly went to the bathroom, rinsed his mouth and splashed cold water on his face, wiped his face with a fresh towel which was hanging from the towel rod. Then he reasoned with himself that so far he had been treated nicely so why not cooperate with them and find out more about their plan. He quickly changed into a fresh pajama and kurta , wrapped a shawl around  , it was mild winter in February. He parted the curtain of the window and found that the accommodation was in a cluster of new towers and after that it was barren with new construction coming up, he could see the broad road running towards New Town. He once visited this area which is about 4 kms away from New Town and rarely anybody was seen on the road, a pretty isolated complex with some IT companies and private residential towers sprouting up.

He cautiously walked in the adjoining hall where he found rows of computers with young people sitting with headphones clamped on their heads. Mr.Dey who was talking to a young man approached him with a smile.

“I have ordered chicken soup for you and some sandwich. If you want you can relax with a headphone and music, then you can use this bone contact headphone with this music device. Samaranand had come across such headphone which is not put on the ears bout on bone.

  Bone conduction allows one to hear sound through the vibration of the bones of ones face ,jaw bones and cheek bones. This means that the sound waves are bypassing the outer and middle ear ,where the eardrum is located, and directly stimulating the inner ear ,hearing organ..

He took the headphone and the device sat on a sofa by the wall, he watched the activities from a distance, Mr.Dey was busy in instructing the staff.

Samaranand knew that he is now a captive of this group which does not look like criminals. Soumaya was still not traceable. What was in store for him, may be next day when Mr.Dey discusses then he would know. As such he was feeling pretty weak, waited for his dinner while listening to his favourite Rabindrasangeet in the device. The listening device was clamped behind his ears and the music was smoothly wafting in through the bones, as such he could hear the murmur of the office through his ears. Another long wait…..

My near miss #metoo time

The lady was upset after all she was the central minister, how dare an ED of a PSU not attend her phone call, let it be Sunday, “So What?”

She thundered to her PA to connect the concerned minister MJ in Delhi as she was camping in Bhopal. MJ got an earful from the lady Miss UB. MJ gave a ring to KGR, the  CMD of the PSU. All this was happening on a fateful Sunday in 2002 .

The concerned ED ,SNR was busy playing his Sunday tennis with Anil and his friends in the officers’ club of the organization in Bhopal. SNR could see a bunch of retired employees shouting slogans in front of his bungalow. They were demanding that company should sell the surplus quarters to them where they were allowed to stay after retirement by paying a nominal rent. It is the real camel and tent story. First put the tail in the tent and then gradually the whole body.

When SNR returned home from the club through the shouting crowd then he was told by his wife, “ Someone from Bhopal was giving ring in the mobile.’ By that time he was told that there had been a suicide of a staff’s wife and he ought to attend that funeral. After taking a hurried lunch he left without the mobile. Once again the same ring came on his mobile and his wife informed the caller that he had gone out to attend the funeral leaving the mobile in the quarter.

The reader may note that two events are occurring parallel to each other viz SNR rushing and the ring from the lady minister coming which went unattended by SNR. By the time he returned an irritated CMD’s ring came in the evening who said settle the issue with Miss UB otherwise on her return to Delhi she would chew him. SNR called his PR and HR heads to fix a meeting in the evening but she had by that time gone out to Sehore and would return next day afternoon. Also it emerged the call was on the behest of those retired employees who had roped in some politician to reach that fiery lady.

Next day SNR arrived at the circuit house with his team where leaders of retired employees were already there in Shamla Hills. They smirked at SNR and loudly said, “Now he will get from her a mouthful!””

SNR and his officers huddled together started strategizing the response.

There was commotion, it was past 4 pm , the lady limping with a stick entered. SNR’s close lieutenant RG got up and contacted a staff known to him.

Suddenly a staff came and asked ,”Who is SNR, ED?”

SNR got up, others from his office too got up. That staff said ,”No, she would like to have one to one talk with SNR!”

That was the #metoo moment, knowing the temper of the lady through news channels SNR apprehended a stormy one sided session where he would be given an earful by the minister lady.

He opened the door and found that she was not alone, there was a volunteer from the political party massaging her calf which was dipped in a bucket full of warm water. He walked towards her , she glared for a moment but then her facial expression changed after looking at the face of SNR, she said, “I  called you alone as I wanted to scold at you in privacy but when I looked at your face then I realized there is some miscommunication somewhere. I can read faces, I read your face and found that you don’t have any crooked line on your face, it’s a smiling face. Why did you avoid my phone call. I am a cabinet minister so I called you if I would have been an ordinary MP then I would have gone to you quarter.” She offered him a chair to sit.

SNR responded, “Madame I am sorry if you thought deliberately I did not attend your phone call. It so happened that I got caught in some other semi personal business.” Then he explained the reason in detail. To cut the story short, she was satisfied by the reply. Then SNR cautioned her about selling official quarters to those retired employees as it was the subjudice as a few months back court has put a hold on a similar demand in Bhilai Steel Plant. Then she called her PA and asked the leaders to come, the officers who came with SNR too entered. She took the demand letter from the retired employees and handed over those to SNR requesting to look into the issue sympathetically. After everything was over she offered her ministry help whenever SNR needed.

Well folks by this time you know who SNR is but the rest names you have to figure out. But I must admit that before entering the room I was having nightmare knowing her mercurial temper.

Also I was pretty surprised she carried on the conversation in good English and the offer of her ministry help was a nice gesture. By the way during the conversation she said that she considered me as her elder brother, the partly greying hair and my portly look helped.

What do i remember?

What do I remember?

Another year has started, not by itself but as declared by calendar. Like any other day there is no change of routine of the sun, it came up as per schedule but we human have the power of thinking so for us 1^st of January is kind of reminder that another year gone or another year has come. Our aging does not depend on calendar, we age by nanoseconds, our DNA,gene etc drive the process which depends directly or indirectly on our life style too.

The above preamble is just hard facts which are undeniable cutting across caste, creed,religion and region. The main operating system is our mind and which is the real driver. I have heard people writing or saying that they are happy, I think it is more of self-assertion for himself. If someone ask me today what has been my happiest moment, then I cannot reply immediately. The problem is that when one gets that happy moment then he does not keep track, it just happens. So looking back the year gone I would remember those physically satisfying things like purchase of latest gadgets, arrival of a new born baby, travelling to exotic places, chilling out with friends, playing a satisfying round of game, reading a book, hearing a new song etc…the list is long. As I was postulating that happiness is the moment and which does not get recorded in conscious mind but subconscious stores it. Somedays I get up feeling happy but I don’t know the reason what triggered it. May be the getting up, the sun light, surrounding silence, fitness of body, looking forward to something etc all put together created that oft mentioned cliche, feel good factor.

The other day while talking to Dr,Kamal Chakraborty I commented that I always find him happy, then I derived that as everyday he is not working for himself but for those poor 200 plus tribal kids in his setup Bhalopahar and that selfless deed of his keeps him perpetually happy. So looking back I can say I too felt happy whenever I was doing something for Bhalopahar or for those poor boys of Tollygaunge slums. Last year I started colour painting and while putting colour I was mentally transported to those places same way as I feel while reading a book, all these feelings again get lodged in subconscious and for which we don’t have a key to push.

It is simple, as they say, happiness is the state of mind. Try enabling that mind to capture more positive thoughts so that those are present predominantly in the subconscious.

A very Happy New Year.

Soul searching

Soul searching

…………………

We trudged through the lanes of Deoghar towards Babadham , a sacred Hindu place of worship. The ancient temple of Baba Baidyanath is one of the twelve 'jyotirlingas' in India. Baidyanath Dham, is in  Santhal Parganas of Jharkhand.

As it happens in any Hindu place of worship soon we were surrounded by Pandas. It was irritating but I knew that it was inevitable. I looked at the crowd following us and I did a random selection. I selected an old panda with a wisp of white beard and unkempt hair in shabby gerua cloth.

I asked mischievously,” Why you guys are chasing us so much?”

“What to do? You are our crop.” He replied honestly.

“How many of you are there around this complex?”

“1000 of us depend on the pilgrims for our survival.”

“ok, let us then proceed to the temple complex.” I said to the discomfiture of my wife. She usually does not like to have a hanger on around.

The temple complex has a big yard selling all kinds of items required for puja offering. I knew these pandas have their preferred shops where they get commission and he was no exception. So it started with a basket of flowers, some sweets and of course bel leaf which is a must for Shiva Linga. Finally he took us to shop  selling water from Ganges.

For the first time I came across a shop selling graded water of Ganges. This particular shop had shelves with water of Ganges arranged like stepped gallery. The bottom most water in kansa pitcher was the cheapest and costliest was the one on the top shelf. The bottom one was from Shiva Ganga, which is a pond in Deoghar so was the cheapest. The costliest on the top was water from Gangotri, then next was Rishikesh, then from Haridwar and so on.

I reluctantly purchased the water of Shivaganga from the bottom shelf.

Thus after getting armed with puja samgri we stood in the queue. The weather was dry and winter had not yet set  in November. Finally we reached the sanctum sanatorium, a priest guided us to pay our offering to Shiva Linga.

Panda Rameshwar was all along with us. After our offering to Shivalinga I paid him the usual rate with some extra tips for him being honest. He was still hanging around with us.

Somehow after the visit of holy place I was in good mood so I inquired, “Anything more to see?”

Rameshwar hesitantly asked,” Will you be interested to visit an ashram ?”

“Whose ashram?”

“There is a sadhu who practices occult.” He said hesitantly.

I remembered to have visited such place during our visit to Tarkeshwar, those sadhus were in a crematorium ground where fresh dead bodies were being burnt. They were tantriks.

“If it is in a crematorium then we will not go.” My wife said.

“No, madam it is a very serene ashram with lots of flora and fauna, you will like the ambiance.”

“ Ok, lead us there, we have sometime before we proceed to Maithon.” We got in our taxi and he guided it to the destination.

The ashram was just outside the town, we drove through the gate on the gravel road with trees lined to a quint thatched hut. We could hear various birds chirping. A pond was visible behind the hut.

We got down from the car and Rameshwar led us to the hut.

I was surprised to find a very young sadhu sitting on a raised platform inside.

“Arey Rameshwarji come in, oh you brought some guests.” He smiled at us.

He invited us to sit on small stools which were strewn around. He asked someone to bring water for us.

Behind the sadhu there were almirahs with glass panes. I could see some scientific instruments on a table. There were canisters and bottles inside almirah. It was looking more like the chamber of a homeopathy doctor.

He was watching me closely and laughed seeing my dismayed look.

“Are you a man of science?”

“Yes, I am an engineer.”

“I am a scientist of occult science.” He said with a twinkle in his eyes.

I never heard such term as occult science. About occult every religion has something to say.

“Is occult a science subject?” I asked.

“When Jagadish Chandra Bose was doing research on botany then there was no subject as botany so he was known as physics professor similarly I am a master in physics and did doctorate in metaphysics but practice occult.” He answered.

“What is your subject of thesis?” I asked.

“Soul!” He replied.

“Anything to do with paranormal?” I asked

“Not really. As you know our body is mortal but our soul is immortal. I try to locate those souls.” He said solemnly.

“You mean those souls which left body.”

“You will be surprised to know that through my research I have found that the soul does not die but it disintegrates in many parts. Many religions believe in rebirth but then the number of birth would have been constant, when one dies  that soul goes in another body and another one is born so on. But in reality the population is increasing exponentially, how do we explain that? My theory  is because each soul gets fragmented after leaving the body and so enters in multiple bodies thus population increases. All the souls of the world freely migrate in stratosphere.” He patiently explained.

“Lobsang Rampa talked about astral travel of soul in his book, Third Eye. He was a British and claimed that a Tibetan lama’s soul inhibited his body. Is it something like that?” I was eager to show off my knowledge.

“Not exactly that. You see those canisters; I have captured some passing souls from Europe. I mean fragments.” He pointed to the almirah behind him.

I did not believe him but to humor him I said,” Is there fragment of Hitler’s soul  ?”

He knew I was not serious but sportively he ignored my flippant barb. He got up and brought a canister with a spout with a pump like arrangement of an inhaler.

“I could capture some of the local souls of talented people; here is one fragment of soul of a mathematician.”

“What do you do with the souls such captured?”

“These souls don’t recreate but get mixed with existing one. We inject these souls to those who need some kind of booster."

“But then a person will have multiple personality.” I queried.

“Aren’t we all having different personalities while dealing with situations, so no harm having multi soul in one body? After all our mind is the commander which is capable enough to decide which soul to use when.”

“We may become like Dr.Jekyl and Mr.Hyde.” I said hesitantly.

“Now we are getting somewhere in the discussion.” He said with a smile and continued,"In the film Exorcist a bad soul enters the body of a girl, then the girl was having two souls." 

“How do you inject the soul?” I asked eagerly.

“It won’t be effective for you as you have a matured soul. Mostly people with disturbed child come here; I examine those young ones and then prescribe soul for them. Sometimes people with some near one dying come for soul but these souls are of no use in a dying body as the other soul which is inhibiting won’t allow any other soul to enter. It is not elixir of life. As far as injection is concerned there is elaborate method which i can not share with you.” 

My wife who was not enjoying the talk said,”It is getting late, we must leave.”

I reluctantly got up, thanked the young scholar of soul and proceeded to our car.

“Amazing story!” I told Mr Trivedi, who narrated his experience to me in my office chamber over a cup of coffee.

“Do you believe that claim of injecting soul?” I asked.

“After watching the politicians changing their color I started believing that it is not the case of change of heart but change of soul. See that young scion of a leading political party returning after a sojourn of 45 days or so  changed to a new person all together. He must have been injected with some aggressive soul.” He guffawed.

“haha, well said.” I joined him in his laughter.

Tell me your dream

Tell me your dream

…………………

I got down from the taxi near the Bandra band stand once again like I had been doing for the last one week. I started walking up the street past Sahrukh Khans house. I walked for about ten minutes and then turned right to begin the search for Dr.Rehmani.I went to the first high rise apartment complex next to the petrol pump. The security guard did not stop me, I wondered why? May be I don’t look like one to break in the houses or I was looking very old to carry out any nefarious activity. I gave a broad smile to the security guy for his generosity which is very hard to come by now a days. He nodded in response. I crossed the lawn and reached the lobby of the multi storey and looked at the letterboxes. I could not locate the name of Dr.Rehmani, so I trudged back out of the security gate, it was December so the sun at eleven o’clock was not harsh. The length of my shadow has shortened; I looked down at the shadow and thanked it to be still there, I have lost all hopes of regaining my self. So I and my shadow started our search for Dr.Rehmani once again and to no avail.I had to find him, so I continued my search at Bandra for Dr.Rehmani.

 The above is the narration of the oldish looking guy sitting in front of me at Copper Chimney where I had gone for lunch. It was chance meeting with Champak Kumar on that day.

It happened like this, after my retirement from BHEL,Bhopal in 2003 i had joined a firm in Kolkata. In 2004 sometime in December I had landed in Bombay in connection with a consultancy work. I was booked at Wankhade stadium guest house by my friend Jamgade.I did not like the ambience of the restaurant there in the stadium so I took a cab and came to Copper Chimney for my lunch. I had ordered my lunch, was smoking and waiting  to be served, suddenly I found this handsome old guy in tweed coat and corduroy pant appearing in front of me and asking for  match box. He appeared to be a nice and kind guy, surprisingly he appeared young from some angle, his stance was youngish but he looked old, I obliged him. He went back to his place in the corner of the restaurant, my lunch course was served. I hurriedly finished my lunch as my meeting with the client was scheduled for three in the afternoon. After paying my bill I got up and went towards the door, I heard a voice behind me; I turned around and found that old guy was waving at me. I went near his table.

“Do you have some time to spare?” He enquired.

“Sorry, I am in a hurry for a meeting.”

“Do you come often here?”

“No, no I have arrived here today and will be staying in Bombay for the next four days,” I informed him.

“Can we meet here tomorrow; I want some time of yours.”

I had work in the late evening next day, but it was a strange request from a stranger. But this is not the first time when strangers had confronted me and unloaded their worries on me. I don’t know why I am picked up, may be I have a very ordinary common man  face which remind them of their some close relatives or friends. Any way I too did not have much work next morning and scented a good story, agreed to meet him at Copper Chimney at one o clock next day.

Next day I got down from the taxi in front of the restaurant and found that old gentleman sitting at a table of four. He was wearing this turtle neck grey sweater and black chinos pant and was looking like an out of work hero. He was about five feet eleven and a slim body. He got up and invited me to the chair opposite to him. I shook hand with him and sat down.

“You are surprised why I chose you? You see you look like one of my cousins whom I adore. I was feeling lonely, so I requested you for this meeting.”

“Oh, that's alright, I too don’t have much to do today. Let us order some drink.”

“The drinks and the lunch are on me, that is my payment to you for your time,” he smilingly told .

We ordered scotch and he started his narration. In between he was continuously receiving calls on his cell phone. He was either asking them to sell or purchase, it was the time when sensex was trying to breech 10,000 marks.I am Champak Kumar; you might have heard my name. His name struck a chord in my memory, was he the hero of the film “Khooni Khanjar’.He acted in one movie in late eighties, it was a super hit but after that no one heard any thing about him. He just kind of vanished, there were rumour that he had hot affair going with the heroin of the film.

“I am not sure, are you the hero Champak Kumar.”

“Thank god you have heard my name; you look to be of a generation before me.” This remark of his surprised me as he looked to be more than sixty and that is more or less of my age.

“What happened to you, why you did not act in any other movie?”

He sipped his scotch and ran his fingers through his hair. I noticed him doing this very frequently. I looked at his hair and wondered whether he was wearing a wig or not but I could see his parting hairline, it was natural hair but dyed.

He philosophically looked at his scotch glass and said,"Let me start from the beginning then you will know my problem."

This is what he told me:
I am a graduate from Barkatulla University; Bhopal. My original name is Dharmesh Chandra Agarwal.I used to take part in college plays and because of my good look I was always chosen to play the role of hero. After my graduation I decided to try my luck in Bombay so I boarded a train for Bombay. It was just after Bhopal gas tragedy. We escaped the gas as we were staying near the BHEL Township. I was in the AC chair car; the passenger next to me was a girl who was traveling from Delhi to Bombay. Because of good looks the girls automatically get attracted to me, so this girl was no exception. She looked to be lonely and I lent my ear to her. I did not give out much about myself. She had gone to Delhi to attend an art seminar. She was a budding artist from JJ school of art; she was neither beautiful nor smart. She informed me that she had no true friend. She looked to be rich and as I had no place to stay in Bombay so I started flirting with her. During the course of our discussion I came to know that she was the daughter of a psychiatrist. Her father was having many film artists among his clientele. I thanked my lucky star for this break. So I doubled my charm, blasted it to her with full intensity and by the time we reached Bombay she was eating from my hand, she started begging me to stay with her family. It seemed her mother had died and she was the only daughter. I did not say yes readily, I pretended as though I had many friends where i can chose to stay. She took the bait and started pleading and I agreed, remember I am an actor so these things come naturally to me.
We got down at Bombay Central, there was a car waiting for her outside. She took me to her house at Vila Parle. It was an old fashioned house with tall columns and the works. Her father was waiting for her at the porch, an old fellow in gown with clipped moustache, medium height,  high powered specs .Oh by the way the name of the girl was Percy and they were Anglo Indian.Dr.Brown was a jovial guy and I took immediate liking to him. He did not mind giving me shelter in his house as long as it pleased her daughter. I was allotted the guest room in the ground floor. It was a two storied gothic structure; airy .I would not go to much detail about how the doctor took a shine on me. Mr.Sippy, the producer is one of his client. He introduced me to him.Mr.Sippy gave me chance in his film Sholay, it was a bit role as one of the constables with Asrani.While shooting for the movie, I came in contact with the heroin Anita and she recommended me for hero role in “Khuni Khanjar”.I found out that Percy was using me as a hat rack for parking her self esteem, she was not much for romance or sex,she lived in her own world of art. So there I was a part time lover to Percy and a full time hero with Anita. There was lot of rumour about me and Anita, nothing really happened between us. It was one of those pre release hypes they built up through PR.
I was not happy with the film line, it was plastic world very artificial so I wanted to quit. I wanted to continue a free life with lots of money. I used to share my thoughts with Dr.Brown; he was sympathetic to my views.One day he introduced me to a doctor whom he came to know the previous day in a conference. The doctor was introduced to me as Dr.R.He was a weird looking guy, like a character from Harry Porter. He attracted me like a magnet. I started visiting his hotel room. He was thinking of settling down in Bombay along the Arabian sea. He was interested in Bandra.I shared my wish of early retirement, and my dream of spending a leisure life of playing golf and visiting places. Somehow without my knowledge he started influencing my dreams. I started dreaming as though I was like Manu Chabaria who has built his empire with 10,000 rupees so I was also capable of doing that.I was having a few lakhs earned from the film. I slowly started thinking about stocks and real estate.My thinking process was changing,a new me was emerging who was focussed towards money. I purchased land in Greater Bombay which was yet to develop to the present magnitude; similarly I invested in tech shares where no one was investing then. Whatever i touched fetched money as though i had Midas touch. I knew that metamorphosis of mine was due to Dr.R so I helped him to purchase the land which he wanted.
Suddenly one day while brushing my teeth in the morning I noticed that I was getting wrinkles around my neck, on closer look found out extra strands of white hair among my black hair. I was very particular about my good look so I started worrying and the worry caused my physical aging faster. I had not met Dr.R for a year or so but came to know that he has moved out of the hotel to his newly built house on the land which i helped him to purchase. I visited him, found that he was no longer looking weird but instead he was looking younger. I requested him to do something about my aging .He asked me to come next day. Accordingly i went and he asked me to lie down on the reclining couch  I was hypnotized by him , when I came back to my senses then I found myself in my flat at Lokhandwala with all my memory and the location of Dr.R’s house totally wiped out from my mind.
“How old are you now?” I asked curiously.

“I am just 45 years old but see I look as if I am seventy years old. He stole my years through my dreams.

”“How”

“During the process of my investment I was getting this dream regularly where there was an old guy in a castle in the clouds. He would ask me to give my youth to him and he would make me rich beyond my imagination. You know I was so possessed that I agreed.”

“You mean to say that Dr.R was that old guy in your dream.”

“Yes, now when I sit back and think then all the pieces start falling in places.”

“What about Dr.Brown,cant he help you to track down the devil.”

“The father and daughter moved to Australia and heard that Doctor died.”

“So now every day I go out to Bandra and search doctors whose surname starts with R.For the last one week it is Rehmani.”

“The appearance of that devil might have changed, how would you recognize him?”

“I can identify him by his gait, eyes, mannerism etc.” he said desperately.

I felt sorry for the old guy, sorry I mean for the young fellow. His youth was stolen by a wicked doctor. I don’t know how this could be possible. I was wondering whether the body in front of me in the form of Champak Kumar was actually Dr.R and Dr.R is using his body which is forty five years old now. It means he switched the souls; it was real scary. May be the guy in front of me made up a story and took my time to narrate that and see my reaction. I was utterly confused. These types of things happen in story books not in real life. Though there are people who claim that we could not explore all the dimensions, like say time dimension. This is to do with time.

“I told you my story because in case you come across some one who can give back my lost years then I would pay handsomely. Why don’t you come with me to my house?” He gave his visiting card to me, I did not give mine.

“Sorry, I can’t as I have some urgent business.”

“Will you come tomorrow?

’“If I am free then I would come, good bye.”

With his permission i took his snap with my mobile phone and left him.I was in no mood to continue my association with him, I was too scared,started getting goose pimples thinking about his talk.I started searching for an internet café, got one after walking a few hundred meters. I got hold of a computer and surfed for  Hindi film “Khuni Khanjar “, found some images from that film.Yes,that guy whom I met in Copper Chimney was really Champak Kumar. He should be around 40 but to me he appeared to be older. Was he telling truth? May be due to some illness he was looking old and made up a filmy story.

 I was puzzled by that chance meeting with Champak Kumar and his strange story. When i told this story to some of my friends in the club they did not believe it so thought of sharing with you all.

Smoking

Is smoking a health hazard ?

.........................................
50 years back when smoking was not declared as health hazard I did not have a drag till my final year in IIT in 1965. Before passing out i smoked a Charminar which i did not purchase but scrounged from someone else.
Then i had my high and low of smoking when smoking was not hazardous, i touched 5 cigarettes a day in my hey days at BHEL sites.
We said good bye to Panipat Thermal in 1980 by smoking bidi in the control room, it was initiated by Late Gurdeep Singh, that was my first and last bidi.
In Bengali society smoking in front of elders or someone in power is supposed to be showing disrespect..But then the society went for an overhaul and younger people started taking to smoking in a death and authority defying act. Throwing cigarette smoke on someones face was considered to be act of bravery. I remember during my posting as Head of ER in BHEL during the meeting with trade union all the leaders from CITU will pull out cigarette to smoke before start of the meeting. Showing some kind of arrogance or don't care about management. That was their way till my coming. I had to put a ban in smoking cigarette in the office and the order was pasted throughout the office. Thus the nuisance of CITU leaders was checked, in this process i stopped smoking in the office.
But as "No smoking" zones are increasing and also due to health consciousness i find many of the regular smokers in my present office have stopped smoking. I find there is upward trend of girls picking up smoking in Bengal.
The other day some local people acting as moral police harassed a young woman of Presidency college for smoking cigarette openly in their pada.Her family is trying to justify the smoking by a girl. It appears the society is divided on this issue.
Now i smoke a cigarette or 2 in a week and that too in the privacy of my house. It has been eons since i smoked a fag on the streets of any city and don't plan to do so.