The Chatbot Chronicles: Soumya's Creation

The Chatbot Chronicles: Soumya's Creation

Scene: Soumya, the nerdy assistant, is seated with his mentor Samaranand and their witty friend Babulal in Samaranand's living room, sipping tea.

Babulal: Soumya, you’ve been unusually quiet. Are you building a time machine or just daydreaming?

Soumya: (snaps out of his thoughts) No, no, nothing like that. I’ve been working on something revolutionary—an AI chatbot that can reply to my WhatsApp messages.

Babulal: (leans in, intrigued) A chatbot? So, when I message you, I might be chatting with your robot and not you?

Soumya: (grinning) Exactly! But don’t worry, Babulal. I’ve programmed it to give personalized replies to my close friends like you and Uncle Samaranand here.

Samaranand: (adjusts his glasses) That’s fascinating, Soumya. How does it work?

Soumya: Well, I studied the most common messages I receive and my standard replies. For example, if someone forwards me a motivational quote or a video, my chatbot responds with, “Thanks for sharing.” If someone asks, “How are you?” it says, “First class!” And if someone suggests meeting, it replies, “Sure, let’s plan it.”

Babulal: (laughs) That’s brilliant! But what if someone sends you an unexpected message, like, “I’ll drop by your place for dinner tonight”? Your overly polite chatbot might say, “Yes, of course!” And then, you’d be stuck with uninvited guests!

Soumya: (chuckling) You rascal, you’ve caught the flaw! I’m already working on a solution for that.

Babulal: (teasing) Better hurry up. Otherwise, you’ll be hosting half the city for dinner!

Samaranand: (smiling) Soumya, I like this idea. But can you develop a version of this chatbot that can outsmart hackers? After all, they, too, are using WhatsApp to cause digital havoc these days.

Soumya: (nodding) Hmm, that’s a challenge worth taking. I could program it to recognize suspicious patterns—like phishing links or weird messages—and shut them down before they cause trouble.

Babulal: (pretending to be alarmed) Wait a minute! What if your chatbot starts replying to hackers with clever comebacks? Something like, “Nice try, pal, but you’re dealing with AI royalty here.”

Soumya: (laughs) That’s not a bad idea. I could even make it troll them a bit. Imagine it sending back, “Your scam skills are as outdated as dial-up internet.”

Samaranand: (laughing) Now that’s the spirit! But remember, Soumya, humor aside, you’ll need to keep it secure. Hackers might try to hijack your chatbot to prank your friends—or worse, me!

Soumya: (grinning) Uncle, don’t worry. I’ll add a failsafe. The chatbot will always recognize messages from you and Babulal and give them top priority.

Babulal: (mischievously) Good. Then I’ll test it by messaging, “Soumya, I’m outside your house. Come with tea and snacks.” Let’s see if your chatbot obliges.

Soumya: (laughing) Knowing you, Babulal, I’ll program it to respond, “Sure, but only if you bring samosas.”

Samaranand: (sipping his tea) Soumya, this idea of yours has real potential. But remember, technology should make life easier, not create more chaos.

Soumya: (nodding earnestly) Absolutely, Uncle. My goal is to make it smart, helpful, and—most importantly—humorous. After all, what’s life without a bit of laughter?

Babulal: (raising his cup) Well said, Soumya. But just one last suggestion—make sure it doesn’t reply “First class!” if someone texts you, “Your bank account has been hacked!”

Soumya and Samaranand: (burst into laughter)

Soumya: Point noted, Babulal. You’re like the QA tester I didn’t ask for but definitely need!

Samaranand: (smiling) And that’s why we keep him around.

The conversation continues, filled with laughter and ideas as Soumya refines his chatbot with a blend of intelligence, security, and, of course, humor.

Nature's Guardian: The Magnetic Mystery Unveiled"

#### Characters:

- **Samaranand**: A wise and resourceful middle-aged man known for his calm demeanor and problem-solving skills. He lives in a quiet flat and has a keen interest in nature and birds.

- **Tiku**: A curious and observant ten-year-old boy who lives near the flat where Samaranand lives. He loves birds and often spends his time exploring the neighborhood.

- **The Villain**: A cruel and mischievous individual who derives pleasure from disturbing the peace of the birds by using a high-powered magnet.

---

In the quiet, tree-lined neighborhood where Samaranand and Tiku lived, the chirping of birds was a daily symphony. The large tree behind their flat was home to many nests, adding to the peaceful ambiance. Tiku, with his bright eyes and boundless curiosity, often observed the birds and admired their beauty. He adored Samaranand, a wise middle-aged man who was always ready with a story or a piece of advice.

One day, Tiku noticed something strange. The birds seemed agitated and disoriented, struggling to find their way back to their nests. He reported this to Samaranand. Samaranand advised him to keep watch of anything unnatural happening to make the birds disturbed !

Tiku decided to keep close watch from sunset when birds fly back to their nests. Hiding behind a bush, Tiku saw a man lurking near the tree with a high-powered magnet. The man's cruel grin sent chills down Tiku's spine as he watched the birds' confusion.

Rushing to Samaranand's flat, Tiku breathlessly recounted what he had seen. "Uncle, there's a man with a magnet! He's confusing the birds and laughing at them!"

Samaranand listened intently, his face growing stern. He understood the severity of the situation. "Let's observe him a bit more, Tiku. We need to know exactly what he's up to." 

Samaranand explained to Tiku that most of the birds have iron in their beak and that helps them to find their nest by using earth's magnetic field.Also they put in their mental map the surroundings like ponds,building etc to pin point their nest. That villainous fellow is trying to confuse the birds by that powerfull magnet.

Over the next few days, Tiku and Samaranand discreetly watched the villain. They saw him use the magnet to disturb the birds, deriving twisted pleasure from their distress. With enough evidence, Samaranand decided it was time to act.

"We'll give him a taste of his own medicine," Samaranand declared. They set up a magnet activated alarm as is used at airports and connected a hooter with that. The hooter was hidden in a nearby bush. They also positioned a hidden camera to capture his actions as evidence.

The next day, as the villain returned with his magnet the hooter gave out a loud sound. The rascal started running for his life. Samaranand and Tiku had a good laugh to see his predicament.

With the video in hand, Samaranand and Tiku confronted the villain. "We know what you've been doing," Samaranand said sternly, showing the recorded footage showing him approaching ,hooter blowing and his running with his tail between his legs. "Your actions have caused these birds unnecessary distress. It's time to stop."

The villain, faced with undeniable evidence and realizing he had been outsmarted, looked ashamed. "I... I didn't think it was such a big deal,being a man of science I was conducting experiment" he said lamely.

"If you want we too can do scientific experiment on you  by throwing sound blast in your flat,we have gadgets which can be targeted to you (they had in mind asking their IT expert Soumya to hack in Alexa and trigger loud music )

"It is a big deal," Tiku retorted, his voice firm. "These birds have a right to live in peace. If you don't stop, we'll report you to the authorities."

Shamed and defeated, the villain agreed to cease his malicious activities. Peace returned to the neighborhood as the birds settled back into their natural rhythm. Tiku was praised for his keen observations and bravery, while Samaranand reflected on the importance of protecting nature and standing up against cruelty.

In the meanwhile Samaranand called Soumya and asked him to hack that fellows Alexa and play loud chirping sound of bird for 5 minutes every night after 11 pm.Tiku collected the email id ,mobile number etc from the society office and passed that on to Soumya.

Tiku was asked to spy on him. He reported after 5 days that villain was complaining that his Alexa is behaving weirdly and he was not able to sleep so now he keeps it disconnected.Samaranand smiled and thought that fellow has been punished for his misdeeds. Soumya was asked to restore the Alexa to normal function. Tiku was told to discreetly tell that fellow that Alexa might have malfunctioned for sometimes as same problem happened to his Alexa too. Now it was working so he can too switch that on. 

The story ended on a heartwarming note, with Samaranand and Tiku sitting under the tree, watching the birds fluttering about, their bond strengthened by the adventure they had shared. The symphony of chirps resumed, more melodious than ever, in the serene neighborhood they called home.

Unseen messages often lead us to the heart of forgotten dreams and the kindness left behind

The driver Gopal reported to Samaranand that every day a new number written by chalk appears near his car in garrrage. He got curious and asked Gopal not to rub off the number. Gopal observed that the number automatically gets replaced by a new number of single digit appears. They put a CCTV but no one was found to come near the car.

10 digits were repeated, thinking that it could be mobile number and Babulal the trusted assistant was asked to find out about that mobile number.

Samaranand: Babulal, did you get any leads on the mobile number?

Babulal: No, sir. I couldn't trace it to anyone specific. It seems like a dead end.

Samaranand: Strange. And the CCTV footage still shows nothing?

Babulal: Exactly, sir. It's as if the numbers appear out of nowhere. No one goes near your car.

IT Expert (Soumya): Samaranand, have you considered that the numbers might be part of a pattern or code rather than a straightforward mobile number?

Samaranand: A code? That's an interesting angle, Soumya. What kind of code are we talking about?

Soumya: It could be anything from a cipher to a more complex sequence. Have you recorded the numbers?

Samaranand: Yes, here they are: 3, 7, 1, 4, 9, 2, 8, 0, 6, 5.

Soumya: Hmm, let me run some analysis on these. There might be a hidden message.

[After a few minutes]

Soumya: I've checked the numbers against various sequences and ciphers, but nothing concrete comes up. However, I did notice that these numbers don’t follow any simple mathematical patterns. They seem random but might have a different significance.

Samaranand: If it’s not a mathematical pattern or a direct code, what else could it be?

Soumya: It might be worth considering if these numbers have a symbolic or positional meaning. Perhaps they represent something when taken together.

Babulal: Maybe they’re coordinates or a reference to something?

Samaranand: Coordinates… or perhaps they could correspond to letters on a keypad. Let’s see… on a typical mobile keypad, 3 corresponds to 'D', 7 to 'P', 1 to no letter, 4 to 'G', 9 to 'W', 2 to 'A', 8 to 'T', 0 to a space, 6 to 'M', and 5 to 'J'.

Soumya: That’s worth checking. Let’s decode it.

[After decoding]

Samaranand: D-P- -G-W-A-T- -M-J. It still doesn’t make sense. Could it be a name or initials?

Babulal: Sir, what if we are overthinking this? What if the numbers are a simpler clue, like an address or an identifier?

Samaranand: That’s possible. Let’s cross-check these numbers with local identifiers, maybe postal codes or landmarks.

Soumya: I’ll check that. Give me a moment.

[After a brief search]

Soumya: I found something. There’s an old building with the identifier 37149 in a nearby area, and it used to be a community center. Maybe it has some connection?

Samaranand: Let’s investigate this place.

[They visit the old building]

Caretaker of the Building: Oh, you’re here about the numbers? We used to run a program for orphans and troubled kids. Each number was a part of a special sequence to help children remember a certain order. It's a teaching tool.

Samaranand: But why would these numbers be written near my car?

Caretaker: That’s odd. No one comes here anymore. However, we did have a volunteer named Ravi who recently passed away. He was very attached to these sequences.

Samaranand: Could Ravi’s spirit be trying to communicate with us?

Caretaker: Possibly. Ravi was very passionate about helping others. Maybe his spirit is trying to reach out for help or send a message through these numbers.

Soumya: If Ravi is trying to communicate, maybe he wants us to continue his work or solve something left unfinished.

Samaranand: Let's look into Ravi's work here and see if there's any unresolved matter.

[After thorough investigation, they find Ravi’s old notes and realize he was trying to set up a scholarship fund for the orphans.]

Samaranand: This must be it. He couldn’t finish setting up the fund, and he’s trying to get our attention to complete it.

Soumya: We should honor his memory by setting up this fund.

[They establish the scholarship fund in Ravi's name, and the mysterious numbers stop appearing near Samaranand's car.]

Samaranand: It seems we’ve solved the mystery. Sometimes, even from beyond, good souls try to reach out to make sure their unfinished business of kindness is completed.

Babulal: It’s amazing how everything made sense in the end. Ravi’s spirit can rest in peace now.

Samaranand: Yes, and we’ve learned that sometimes the answers are closer to home than we think, rooted in simple acts of kindness and unfinished dreams.

Confluence of Wisdom: Dialogues Under the Banyan Tree

Samaranand and Bhootanand, two Sadhus of different spiritual paths, engaged in a discussion under the ancient banyan tree. Curiosity sparked in Samaranand's eyes as he asked Bhootanand, "What awaits those who follow your teachings after death?"

Bhootanand, with confidence, asserted, "They ascend to swarg, where they revel in the pleasures of life—beautiful women, gold, and luxurious living for male devotees, and similar joys for the females."

Amused, Samaranand chuckled and shared a tale. "Once, a devout follower of your sect reached swarg. To his surprise, he found his guruji on a cloud, with a beautiful girl seated on his lap. Congratulating his guru for the reward of his penance, the guruji angrily retorted that it was, in fact, the girl's punishment to be stuck on his lap eternally."

Samaranand's story left the air with a lingering laughter, but Bhootanand's face turned crimson with anger, livid at the unexpected twist. The banyan tree witnessed the clash of perspectives between the two Sadhus, each rooted in their beliefs.

As Samaranand concluded his tale, the air around the banyan tree echoed with laughter, but Bhootanand's anger intensified. In an attempt to diffuse the tension, Samaranand invoked wisdom from the Bhagavad Gita, saying, "Krishna teaches in the Gita that true devotion transcends material desires. It's not about the fleeting pleasures of swarg, but attaining a higher state of consciousness."

Bhootanand, determined to defend his beliefs, countered with a quote from the Bible, "As the scripture says, 'For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life.' Swarg, in our teachings, is the reward for a virtuous life lived in accordance with divine principles."

Undeterred, Samaranand responded with another verse from the Bhagavad Gita, "Krishna also teaches that attachment to material desires can be a hindrance to spiritual growth. True liberation lies in detachment and devotion to the divine."

Bhootanand, firmly rooted in his convictions, quoted from the Bible, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Our path emphasizes purity and adherence to moral principles as the way to salvation."

The dialogue between the two Sadhus became a philosophical exchange, blending the wisdom of the Bhagavad Gita and the Bible. The ancient banyan tree stood witness to the convergence of diverse spiritual perspectives, creating a mosaic of thought under its expansive branches.

The confession of a thief

The confession of a thief

Babulal ,my assistant called me.

"Sir,I want to meet you. I have an interesting diary with me . It is written in English."

I asked him why he thought it was interesting.

He informed me that it was written by a thief.

He came to my flat with the diary.

I asked him how he could get the diary. With a mysterious smile he said he knew the thief and on a suitable day he would introduce him to me.

Eagerly I started reading the notebook ,it was not a diary ,it was a leather bound frayed notebook. 

I come from Mofussil town near Siuri,Birbhum.

We were four close friends:Bhabla,Poltu and Tuku.I was good at studies and my father had a grocery shop in the market. From childhood I have noticed how my father used various locks for the shop and keeping money in the safe. I have been playing with locks and keys since my childhood and tried to figure out how those locks worked. I would go to a locksmith's shop to know more.

He explained to me how a tumbler lock worked.I came to know that when a key is inserted then it would move the individual levers into the appropriate position. As I was visiting him regularly I gained his confidence,also he knew I come from a respectable family.

I studied various types of old historical locks which often came to his shop.I designed some tools which could be used to open any lock.

I experimented with my tool in opening my father's safe, I didn't steal Iany money. It was for fun.

But that skill was not known to my friends.

Bhabla was bad in studies, he would copy my homework. Somehow he could pass through class 7 but flunked in class 8.

 My coaching didn't help,he flunked again.

Somehow his passing became my challenge. Then I planned to steal  the question papers from the school. I told my friends about my plan.

We went to the school before the examination in the night,my friends kept the guard engaged and I with the help of my special tool opened the lock of the  door of the room of the principal and also the almirah in which the question papers were kept. I was carrying a notebook in which I copied the questions and then locked the almirah and the door.

Poltu noticed me coming out,he signalled to Bhabla and Tuku. Thus having got the question papers we all forced Bhabla to mug the answers of the questions,not all questions but the easy ones which In the meanwhile Tukuwere enough to get a passing mark.

Having achieved my first lock breaking other than my father's lock I became confident.

I started looking for a challenge. 

One day we were returning from the football field. That time 40 years back I was to appear in higher secondary, when we noticed a poor farmer was crying in his hut. We approached him,he told us that by the next day he would lose his 4 acres of land if he didn't return 20000 the loan which he had taken from the loan shark Bijon Sil.

We went back to my house where every day we spent time after football,my mother would serve muri mixed with a tasty mixture,onion,green chilli,ginger etc. 

I had a plan.I stole 20000 from my father's trunk, by the way those days the modern safe was not heard of in rural Bengal,It used to be big steel boxes locked by 7 levers  Aligarh lock which was supposed

to be the safest but for me to open any tumbler lock was a child's play.

Next day we gave that money to the farmer and went along with him to pay back the wily Sil.It was around 11 in the morning when we approached his walled gated property. When we told the purpose the guard allowed us to enter.Bhabla knew the guard so he stayed bacck to have a little chat.

Sil was in his drawing room reading the newspaper of the day and was surprised to see us with the farmer.He was more surprised when the farmer paid the money and asked for his legal document of his land. Sil had no choice because we were with him ,he counted the money, went  inside  his bedroom and heard him opening a trunk to keep the money,then heard the sound of opening the almirah to extract the legal document. He was looking grave as he missed the opportunity of grabbing the land of the poor farmer. He knew my father so didn't make much fuss.

In the meanwhile I had gone inside pretending to go to the toilet and cased the layout of his house.

He didn't even offer a glass of water to us,the rascal!

When we came out,Bhabla informed us that Sil takes opium so that he could get a sound sleep.

The farmer left happy and thanked us profusely!

We went to our football field and sat below our favourite banyan tree and hatched our next plan,I had to return 20000 to my father's safe by next 2 days as on Sunday's he would tally the cash.

Next evening Bhabla went to the gatekeeper when he was away and mixed datura with his daal which he had already prepared.

The plan was the datura which was easily available among wild trees. We had grinded a small quantity so that it was not lethal but was enough to knock him out unconscious.

That night stealthily we came to Sil's house. Bhabla and Poltu remained at the gate to take care of the gatekeeper. He was knocked out lying on the floor. We lifted him and put him on the bed.

Me and Tuku went to the house,it had an old style bolt inside. Silently I drilled a hole and eased out the bolt. 

Sil was in deep sleep after ingesting opium,the bunch of keys was bound around his waist,I smiled as I didn't require any key. I have my burglar tools.

I instructed Tuku to stand by the bed of Sil in case he got up.

On tiptoe I approached the trunk ,the lock was not even 7 levers. I could easily open the lock. Not only did I take 20000 ,I took most of the jewellery which poor people had pawned. Against each the names were written with addresses. I locked the almirah and the trunk.

I put everything in the rucksack which I was carrying.

Lucky that nothing abnormal happened. I bolted the door through the hole which had drilled and closed the hole by using the putty which I was carrying.

Thus my career was launched.

We returned those jewellery to the owners with a warning of not to disclose that they had got back those. I put back 20000 which I had borrowed from my father's trunk.

Sil realised those were missing when he opened his trunk to put fresh jewellery for giving loan but was puzzled as there was no sign of break-in.

Next week a story appeared in the local newspaper that a mysterious thief had come stealing from the rich without opening the safes. There was speculation that it could be a ghost. The paper went on to inform that the same type of stealing was reported from the adjoining area.

The local station house office of the police station  who was known to 

us was puzzled. He advised us to be vigilant,we promised to bring to his notice if we observed anything abnormal.

I passed my higher secondary and before moving to Kolkata for higher study I had to use my lock opening skill in our town under an odd condition. 

Well that's for another day.

A fist full of memories

A fist full of memories

……………………………

My caddy Hulo is irregular during winter days. That is the time when NRIs and foreign visitors come and stay in the Toly club guest house. Hulo has a contact in golf range who helps him to become caddy of the foreign guests. During those months he avoids me but once the guests go away then again he would pester me to take him back. That sly guy has a unique way of approaching me; he would bring some golf accessories gifted to him by those foreigners and ask me to accept those. Many a times Hulo has introduced me to these golfing foreigners and I have played with them gladly.

Mr. Evans was one such introduced by Hulo , was from England, loved playing golf. He loved coming back to India as frequent as possible; it seems he spent his childhood in tea gardens of Darjeeling. Whenever he is in India would visit Darjeeling.

I had played a number of times  with him. This happened a few years back.

While playing we would share our experiences. During our one such outing I narrated my experience of momentarily mentally getting transported to some other place. I narrated my experience as follows;

I was sitting in my second floor office in Chatterjee International; from the wide window of my office the Calcutta maidan was clearly visible. I watched some eagles were  circling over the maidan and momentarily I felt as though I was sitting on a hill in front of a monastery in Bhutan where eagles were gliding effortlessly. I had visited Bhutan a year back then and had watched eagles circling while visiting a monastery, the monastery was perched on the top , eagles were gliding over the valley at my eye level. The circling eagles triggered my mind to travel to Bhutan for a few seconds at that time when actually i was in my office in Chatterjee International.

Mr Evans heard me with interest, smiled mysteriously and told me an amazing story.

“Roy, by this time you know I visit India frequently.The reason of my coming is to visit my childhood places and live through those wonderful moments in Darjeeling tea gardens.”

“Live through? It is possible to travel back momentarily as I did, but how can you live through your childhood?” I said doubtfully.

“ I will share some confidential information , hope it will remain with you.”

I was eager to know so we hurriedly finished our golf round and headed for shamiana.

We ordered beer and he started his strange story.

He finished his school in North Point, Darjeeling and joined his father in running the garden. His father was a philanthropist; he used to run a charitable dispensary in the garden. Once a Tibetan monk fell seriously sick and was brought to that dispensary, Evans’ father made arrangement for the monk to stay in the company guest house. Evans was attracted by the wisdom of that noble monk; he would spend lot of time with him. It was the year of Naxal movement when his father decided to go back to England by selling off his garden. Evans was sad that he had to leave India. The monk would try to console young Evans by saying that nothing is permanent in this world.

“Noble one tell me how can I leave this beautiful place? If I feel nostalgic then I cannot come immediately.” Evans tearfully said.

“Tomorrow you come I would give you something.” The monk said.

Evans duly went next day, the monk gave him a jewel box.

“This will store your best moments spent here but you have to load it every year otherwise the size of this crystal will reduce by 1/50^th for the missed year, then it will hold less memory.”

“You mean I can live through those moments?”

“Yes you can.” He opened the box and brought out a green crystal ball.

Evans held the crystal in his hand and was  mesmerized by it's beauty.

“Wise one please tell me how does it work?”

The monk gave a beatific smile and said, “ You should always keep the crystal in this box to avoid dissipation of the memories. Supposing you want to store memories of your school then go there and meditate in an isolated place after consuming one of these globules.”

The monk gave him a bottle of globules, they looked like opium balls.

“After taking a globule close your eyes, hold the crystal on your forehead and think of those moments in school with your friends which you want to cherish forever or may be some teaching by your favorite teacher. All those images running through your mind will get captured in this crystal.”

“Ok I understood, I go through the same process with all the associated places like Glennaries,Kaventers, Chowrastha, the tea gardens etc the places I love so much.”

“Yes that way you will capture the places with sight, sound and smell.”

“Wow, with all senses! Then how do I replay those?”

“In England whenever you have a feeling of melancholy then go to a room alone and sit comfortably facing east. Take out the crystal ball, take a globule close your eyes and hold ball on your forehead. Think of the times you want to visit and those will play up in your mental screen. For example you had some memorable experience in standard four then for that moment you will become mentally that little boy of standard four and live through that experience kind of replay of those moments.”

Evans was excited and without wasting any more time started writing down his memories of good moments before embarking on storing those in the crystal ball.

In the meanwhile the monk after getting cured had left the tea garden.

Evans could not come to India for next thirty years as he had to finish higher studies and start his professional career as a financier. But whenever he had yearning for the tea garden in Darjeeling then he would take the crystal ball to his study, close the door, pop the globule, face east, close the eyes and hold the crystal on his forehead. He would mentally get transported to that time which he chose and live through those nostalgic moments. He could smell the fresh tea leafs , he could see the descending cloud in the valley. He would be running as a kid in the play ground of the school. He felt as though those days were still with him.

But as he did not visit India for thirty years so the size of the crystal ball decreased considerably, many of the memories got faded out. After year 2000 he tried visiting every second year to recharge but because Darjeeling city has changed for the worst due to population growth, also he himself has aged so the recharging of memory effectively was a bit sketchy. The places around tea garden have not changed much so he could recharge those vividly.
I requested him to show me the crystal and he agreed without any persuasion.

We headed for his room in the guest house . He took out the wooden box containing the green crystal, then with lot of reverence he took out the crystal ball.I took the ball in my hand, felt a queer sensation running through my body. I held it against the light, the  refraction of the light caused it to glow ethereally.

Evans said, “I don’t think I can continue to come to India any more. This time I did not go to Darjeeling. I have one fourth bottle of globule left, if you want I can give you these two, you can try storing your memories.”

First I was reluctant but then I accepted his offer.

Now I have the bottle of globules and the box containing green crystal ball but then the places where I spent my childhood days with my parents  are all gone. We were staying in government colonies of Delhi like in Press Road in Minto Road area,Chummeries of  Gole Market, Wilson Square in front of Birla Mandir….those are all demolished giving way to new high rise government quarters , the modernization steam rolled our childhood dwellings to dust....of course i have not visited those places after hearing that those have been razed to ground.....even the house in Allahabad where i was born has been obliterated beyond recognition but in the hard disc of my memory those still exist in the original form which unfortunately i can not store in this green crystal...... .may be i will store new ones now.......

 

In the dark....virtually possible part 6

“Do you have any information about Soumaya?”

“No, we don’t have. We saw him last when he installed the software, your man was present then.”

“Yes, our man followed him next day to Howrah Station, he boarded Shantiniketan Express for Bolepur. That young man who was here the other day with us watching Soumaya was the one following. We think Soumaya might have noticed him and he vanished in the mid-way. Samaranand and Babulal also looked worried. They had no clue. We require Soumaya urgently.”

‘’Have you tried contacting Samaranand?”” Sunil Maity asked.

Babulal was playing this recorded conversation in the device which was still kept with the beggar woman Pagli who had been camping outside the Maity house in Lansdown. Babula had instructed her to camp there indefinitely till he instructed otherwise. This device was recording the conversations in the drawing room of Maity house through the bugs planted by him and Soumaya in their first meeting.

‘We have hacked Samaranand’s email to know whereabouts of Soumaya, we have also made arrangement to tap his mobile. We followed him to Trincas but Soumaya did not appear. Now for the last few days we find that Samaranand is not coming for his morning walk at the lake.’”

Babulal too was worried that he was not able to contact Samaranand, Both Soumaya and Samaranand have mysteriously vanished.

One thing was clear to Babulal that Soumaya had vanished to avoid those persons who were asking Maity brothers about him. Babulal continued listening to the recorded conversation and heard the unknown voice telling Maity brothers.

“We are an IT company and we have been approached by political parties to make videos by mixing old and new clippings. We know that Soumayas has developed an algorithm which you have purchased. We want him to work with us for similar project but in much bigger scale. But somehow he is avoiding us.”

From the above conversation at least it was clear to Babulal that those people mean business and somehow Soumaya did not want to get involved with them because of involvement of politicians.

Presently Babulal had no financial problem as they made a neat sum out of the deal with Maity brothers. Now he was left alone and had to figure out a way to find them. He was relieved that Soumaya was not in danger yet, but he never imagined that Samaranand would become a target.

Babulal was in pensive mood, he was an orphan who ran away from Bihar to Delhi. He did all those odd jobs like operating the hydraulic jack below a sadhu’s throne who would fool his disciples that he was levitating by divine power. Later he was an assistant to a street magician but then his fate brought him to Kolkata where he met Samaranand who gave him mental and financial support. Now he was like a gliding eagle who suddenly loses the thermal current which keeps him afloat and starts frantically flapping his wing , metaphorically his mind was restless like the flapping of wings of eagle.

He has to be focused. He remembered the story of the deaf frog which Samaranand told him in initial days.

The race began of tiny frogs climbing the tall tower...

Honestly, No one in crowd really believed that the tiny frogs would reach the top of the tower.

You heard statements such as:

"Oh, WAY too difficult!! They will NEVER make it to the top."

or:

"Not a chance that they will succeed. The tower is too high!"

The tiny frogs began collapsing. One by one...... Except for those who in a fresh tempo were climbing higher and higher...

The crowd continued to yell

"It is too difficult!!! No one will make it!"

More tiny frogs got tired and gave up......But ONE continued higher and higher and higher...

This one wouldn't give up!

At the end everyone else had given up climbing the tower. Except for the one tiny frog who after a big effort was the only one who reached the top!

THEN all of the other tiny frogs naturally wanted to know how this one frog managed to do it?

A contestant asked the tiny frog how the one who succeeded had found the strength to reach the goal?

It turned out...that the winner was DEAF.....he could not hear those discouraging words..

 The wisdom of this story is:

Never listen to other people's tendencies to be negative or pessimistic...

...because they take your most wonderful dreams and wishes away from you. The ones you have in your heart!

Always think of the power words have.

Because everything you hear and read will affect your actions!

 Therefore: ALWAYS be...POSITIVE!

And above all:

Be DEAF when people tell YOU that YOU cannot fulfill YOUR dreams!

Always think: I can do this!

Positive Attitude is the best Attitude.

He repeated the story in his mind for self-confidence, somehow he was sure that he would receive some signal from Samaranand or Soumaya, he must not get cowed down by the negative vibes of the situation. His mind was cluttered with all kinds of thoughts when there was a knock on his door in his present hideout at Sealdah slum.
'Who is it' he hesitantly asked.
"Swiggy" was the reply.
But Babulal was hesitant to open the door as he had not ordered anything and for that matter he had no swiggy account.
He looked out through the window and found a hooded fellow in dark Swiggy dress, he could not see the face, the posture was familiar.
Who is that fellow? Should he open the door or climb out by the rear window and vanish?

Planchet

Samaranand was taking his usual round of lake, the previous day it had rained heavily, the broad road in the lake perimeter was still submerged, a very few morning walkers. He took his usual seat by the side of that historic cannon, he could see a sadhu like guy in beards,dhoti, kurta was in meditation  in another concrete bench. He also got in the mood of meditation when he felt someone came and sat by the side of him, from the fragrance of the deodorant he could know that his side kick Babulal had arrived. With his eyes closed Samaranand  said, “ Hope everything is fine? “

“Yes, I have been busy with Soumaya in preparing guess papers for schools, now we are preparing guess papers for 4 schools out of which 2 are English medium.”

“What is the striking rate of Soumaya?”

“He has honed his computer programme and getting about 80% success.”

“It means you are now earning a neat sum!”

Babulal shyly nodded his head.

Here the reader those who are reading this for the first time should know that Babulal who had been with a street magician in Delhi as assistant, later he was helping a fraud sadhu near Delhi and finally he ran away from Delhi and met Samaranand at the lake, became his assistant. Samaranand was supporting him by paying a monthly sum but now he does not require that as he had started his own side business of preparing guess papers for various classes of different schools with the help of Soumaya ,a computer geek who has created an algorithms for creating guess paper.

Babulal said, “While talking to a school student I came to know that his father attends planchet regularly to get in touch with his dead  elder brother Bishu who died in a motor bike accident 2 months back. He too was studying in the school but was in final year. I smell something fishy and Subimal also is worried!”

Samaranand himself a man of science does not believe in this type of supernatural things.

“There must be money involved, the medium must be taking a hefty sum!” Samaranand said smilingly.

“Yes, each sitting he charges 10,000! His father has a jewelry shop and makes good money.”

“Who took his father to this fellow?” Samaranad asked.

“Curiously it was this boy’s cousin brother! After every visit his father comes back pleased as he could talk to his dead son.”

Samaranand was curious about this case so asked Babulal to facilitate a meeting with that Subimal’sfather.

Next day Subimal took Babula and Samaranad to his father’s shop in Gariahat. Nirmal Babu was free as it was around lunch time, he was nearly 50 years old, there were pictures of god displayed in the shop.

As Subimal had already told his father about Samaranand who he introduced as uncle of Babulal.

After some small introductory talks Samaranand expressed his desire to go with Nirmalbabu in his next session with the medium. First Nirmalbabu was reluctant but on his son’s insistence he agreed to take Samaranand which was on next Friday.

The appointment was in the evening in a house in Elgin Road, it was one of those dilapidated houses. Samaranand and Nirmal babu went by Nirmal Babu’s car. They entered the old style drawing room with lot of antique furnitures and almirah full of books. A smart looking  young man in jeans and T shirt was waiting for them, as Nirmalbabu had already informed them that he would bring a close friend so that man was not surprised to see Samaranand. The light in the drawing room was dim, a round table with a few chairs was in a corner, a frayed sofa set was in the center. It had two doors, the door connected with outside verandah and the second door connected with the house. He invited them to sit on sofa and informed Nirmalbabu the medium would be coming soon. After about 5 minutes a frail looking mid age man of medium height ,disheveled hair in kurta pajama entered the drawing room from the inner door. Looking at him Samaranand thought that the man looked as though he was drugged. That youngman Sunny introduced the medium as Nishikant to Samaranand. After formalities Sunny said, “’Let us go and sit around that round table.It is good that Mr.Samaranand is there so I don’t have to organize a fourth person to complete the circle.”

Samaranand realized that Sunny was the key person in that event.

They all sat around the table.

Sunny said, “We will all hold next man’s hand and concentrate on the picture  of Bishu. I will put off the light. Mr.Samaranand if you have cell phone then mute that.”

Samaranand took out his Note 4, drew the pattern to unlock and dragged down the setting bar. He put his Bluetooth on and noticed that his mobile was catching a signal in the room, he put the volume in ‘mute” and kept the mobile on the table.

Sunny put off the light, the diffused light from the street light through the window was creating a mesmerizing ambience.They held each other hand, after a few minutes there was a faint coughing sound and aroma of a scent was wafting in.

Nirmalbabu whispered ,”Bishu is here, I can smell his scent.”

“Bishu how are you my son.”

The lips of Nishikanta was moving, his eyes were closed and looked as though he was in trance.

“Yes,Baba! I am fine.” The voice was appearing to come from Nishikanta but was sounding as though coming from a distance.

“Bishu, last time when I spoke to you then you wanted me to do something, what is that?”

“No,no I don’t want to burden you!” the faint voice floated in.

“Please don’t hesitate to ask, I insist!” Nirmalbabu sounded adamant.

“Ok, if you insist, please give Rs 10 lacs to these people so that they can perform some rituals to keep my soul happy.”

“Oh, don’t worry I had kept fixed deposit for that amount in the name of each of you brothers. I will organize that soon.” Nirmalbabu sounded relieved.

‘How is Subi? Is he busy with his computer game?”

“Yes, he is always with his computer. Your room I have kept as it is. The picture of Ronaldo is still there, your laptop is on the table as it was. Your bed is made every day as though you are still there. In the evening after closing my shop I spend sometimes on your bed.”

“Ok,baba ,now I have to go!” The voice slowly died down and Nishikant slumped in his chair.

Sunny quickly got up,switched on the light and escorted Nishikant to the sofa. He sprinkled water on his face, slowly Nishikant opened his eyes and came to his senses.

Nirmalbabu said,” I will try to organize the money as early as possible, I want Bishu to be happy, any way I kept that money for him only.’

Nirmalbabu and Samaranand walked out and started walking towards the car. Samaranand could feel that the whole thing was a scam to take money from Nirmalbabu .How to prove?In his mobile he has seen a Bluetooth speaker signal.

Samaranand said,”If you don’t mind I will advise you to hold on for sometimes. Don’t rush with money. I may come up with something.”

Nirmalbabu being a businessman realized that he should be cautious with money though during the séance he promised to act because of the spell of that moment while talking to dead Bishu,his eldest son.

Samaranand got down near the lake where Babulal and Soumay with Subimal were waiting.

While returning Samaranand had hatched a plan where he required Soumaya’s computer talent.

He asked Subimal,” Is there any chance that your cousin brother Biren has either audio or video recording of your dead brother Bishu's voice?”

“Yes, many recording as I would upload our videos of social events in YouTube which my cousin brother Shibu has watched.”

Samaranand then laid out his plan to Soumaya and Subimal.

“Subimal you put those videos of your brother in a pendrive and give to Babulal or Soumaya.”

To Soumaya he gave elaborate instruction what he should do with those videos. He also told him if he requires any guidance then he can contact his IIT friend Biswanath who is master in computer algorithms. He gave Biswanath’s mobile number to him and promised Soumaya that he would tell Biswanath that he would contact.

Soumaya was to act within a week and be ready with the software.

Samaranand advised Subimal to inform his father that they have found another medium and convince his father to give a try. Babulal would check with Subimal after two days  whether he could convince his father with the plan of alternate medium.

After two days Babulal met Samaranand to finalize the plan.

As usual they were sitting on a bench at the lake. It was cloudy but not raining. The weather was good, Samaranand was in his shorts,Tee and cades. Babulal was in black Tee, blue jeans, sneakers with spikey hair style.

The plan was very simple, there will be Jishu, Samaranand’s friend as medium because he was frail looking middle aged man ,widower who was staying in one of the MIG flats near central park of Golf Green with his servant. Soumaya would edit the recordings with the help of a software which he and Biswanath Chatterjee had developed. It will have only Bishu’s voice which would instruct something or will give short replies. Samaranand had already noticed what kind of questions Nirmalbabu asked.Babulal informed that Subimal has more or less made his father agree to go to another medium. Samaranand asked Babulal to fix  Nirmalbabu with the help of Subimal next Friday for the session at 7 pm with Jishu in Golf Green.

Next Friday in Jishu’s house Babulal and Soumaya had come earlier to fix Bluetooth speaker and digital playback system. They remained unnoticed in the bedroom which they were using as control room. Samaranad entered with Subimal and his father Nirmalbau in Jishu’s flat at 5 minuters to seven. Jishu was an avid reader so the drawing has two almirahs full of books and which impressed Nirmalbabu, he knew that he had not come to a fraud. After introductions they decided to proceed with the séance , Subimal got up and put off the light, it was full moon night, the room was lighted by the moon,it was pretty eerie ambience. All four Samaranand,Nirmalbabu,Subimal and Jishu held each others hand around the center table of the sofa. The smiling picture of dead Bishu was on the center table. They all closed their eyes, a faint music was wafting in from the next room. Soumaya was playing a record player for the effect,Babulal stealthily sprayed Bishu’s favourite essence in the drawing room. Nirmalbabu became alert by the smell and murmured ,” My Bishu has come?”

Jishu’s lips were moving, “Baba good to see that you have come here.”

Nirmalbabu’s body became taught, it was the voice of his dead son.

Nirmalbabu asked, “How you can come in this place, I thought that address of Elgin was known to you, that is what Biren told me.”

A slight laugh was heard in the air, a light cough and then the voice simmered in ,’” I am just a soul now and can be called by any medium but what address you are talking about? I have not gone to any other address.””Nirmalbbu was perplexed, he asked,’ The other day you asked for 10 lacs for those people so that they can do something for you to be happy.”

“No baba, don’t spend any more money for me, how any one can do something for afterlife, it is not possible. You have already performed Shradha which was to make my soul rest in peace.”

Nirmalbabu was totally puzzled and could not think of any more questions to ask.

Jishu’s lips moved,”Baba this may be my last conversation with you. My request to you is that don’t fall in that trap. Biren is using your weakness for me to extract money which they would share.”

Nirmalbabu as such knew Biren, his sister’s son was a good for nothing character but his son’s death had confused him.

Then Nirmalbabu asked, “I heard your voice there , how is it possible?”’

“”Here also you are hearing my voice.”

“Yes, then how is that possible?”’

“Ask Subi, he will explain.Now I have to go.”

Subimal got up and put on the light, Jishu was looking at Nirmalbabu who was looking confused. Samaranand then explained how voices can be doctored by using softwares and then took him to the bedroom where Babulal with a big smile was standing and Soumaya was operating the system. Samaranand told him, “Those rascals have used the same technique as Biren has downloaded the videos of Bishu and doctored those.”

It did not take much time for Nirmalbabu to understand the scam which was played on his sentiments for his dead son. He thanked Samaranand for exposing the reality by showing him the technology which was used. Samaranand told him, “’ It is a kind of phishing, which means by disguising as someone else to extract information, money etc from another person.”

Next day Samaranand met Babulal and Soumaya at the lake. Samaranand told them,’” Nirmalbabu wanted to give me one lac rupees as reward but I told him to give that to both of you. Babulal you better collect that.”

“’Yes I got a call from Subimal to collect the money from him.”

Samaranand patted him affectionately, winked at him and said,” I have a plan which I will tell you afterwards.””

The barber shop

Barber shop

I was staring at my reflection when the barber was busy in sniping my hair. I suddenly realized that barbers mirror has been reflecting me from the very childhood but I never noticed the infinitesimal change which was taking place in my appearance. The mirror reflected a boy becoming young man, then middle aged and now old. The hair started becoming sparse then grey hair started appearing and finally mostly grey which is now. This transformation was so gradual that I never noticed when my first grey hair appeared or when the bald patch at the back of my head started taking shape though every time after a cut the barber holds another mirror at the back of my head to know if anything more I want him to do.While thinking about grey hair and baldness I started smiling to myself as I remembered an anecdote ,the barber looked at me through the mirror and raised his eye brows questioningly, he thought I was smiling at his some folly,he stopped. I told him the joke.

An old man was married for the second time to a young woman though his first wife was still there. He had mix of black and grey hair. After sometimes his friends noticed he was losing hair fast. They inquired from him whether he has some health issue. The old man replied sadly that he was alright but the second marriage is causing all the problem related with hair.

‘How?” the friends asked.

“See it is like this, the night when I am spending with my young wife then she will pluck all my grey hair!”

“And your first wife? She was ok with your hair!”

“No dear that is the sad story. As her hair has become grey so the night I spend with her she will pluck all my black hair. Thus I am becoming bald!”He said with a sad face.

By the time I finished my joke I found that barber next to my chair laughed out loud as he too was keenly listening. I heard a snoring noise and found that his client was sleeping peacefully while he was sniping his hair. I looked at him and said,”the days I don’t get sleep I will come to you for hair cutting as you make people sleep!” I gestured at the sleeping customer with a wink.

So friends the barber’s chair gives us an opportunity to look at us dispassionately and observe those changes occurring which are inevitable and we have no control on ravages of time. No wonder many customers spent extra money at the saloon to get back that youthful look by putting all kind of hair darkening creams and getting the face uplifting massage done.

My barber is pretty clever guy, I have been going to this shop since more than 20 years so he knows my head better than me, the other day he commented that there is not much change in my hair. I winked at him and showed the expanding baldness of my forehead and the sparse front hair and asked,” What about these?” He knew he was caught but maybe he too did not notice the infinitesimal change occurring in me.
For me each visit to barber shop makes me a wee bit of wiser, that chair in the saloon is like seat in front of a great monk, at times i get self hypnotized by staring at me constantly. 

The Booby trap

The booby trap

This incident is about my alter ego Samaranand which happened recently.

Samaranand has just returned from a religious trip to Varanasi, where for the first time he could reach the sanctum sanctorum of Kashi Vishwanath temple through the VIP gate. He could reach the courtyard meant for private puja by VIPs and from there he could get a full view of the Vishwanath temple and the Gyanvapi mosque (this mosque was built by destroying the original temple by Aurangzeb) .That VIP entrance is known as Gyanvapi gate. As mobile was not allowed inside so he could not take any pictures.

However, he sat and meditated for sometimes in the temple courtyard, tried to achieve zero experience but the thought of catching return flight to Kolkata kept nagging him, so subconscious was wrestling with that thought.

After reaching Kolkata on the same day next day morning he could not go for his usual morning walk around the lake. He was relaxing in his drawing room when his newly acquired AI,Google Home was playing his favorite songs. His mind was still lingering around Vishwanath temple and failing to achieve zero experience there. As a matter of fact, he has never achieved zero experience which is the state of mind when it becomes a vacuum without any fleeting thought. The harsh ring tone of the mobile broke his reverie.

It was Babulal his assistant, readers already have been introduced to Babulal who was assistant of a street magician in Delhi and later on he was in the entourage of cheat Sadhu.

-Sir I was waiting for you at the lake.

-sorry today I could not go to the lake, I was too tired after my journey to Varanasi.

-Have you read yesterday’s paper?

-No, I have not read even today’s paper

-Sir, can we meet today?

-Yes, come within one hour to our usual location in Golf Green,central park.

-ok,sir,I am coming. Babula disconnected the mobile.

Samaranand as you all know loves solving problems and Babula assists him but Babula never comes to his flat, they meet either at Lake or at Golf Green, central Park.

They were sitting on a bench under a tree, it was spring, not much hot at 10 am. From a distance they looked like an uncle with his nephew talking mundane things. At 10 am there was not much crowd in the park, on other benches some retired persons were gossiping. Yes, Golf Green has a good number of retired persons whose sons have gone away for job to Bangalore, Delhi, Chennai or to some foreign destination.

-Yes,tell me Babulal , what news do you have?

-Sir,Do you remember we were discussing about spate of snatching around the lake, especially during evening time?

-Oh,yes, I thought we must do something about it.

With a big smile Babulal said, “This time I worked out a solution on my own.”’

Samaranad was pleased that his side kick can now operate on his own.

-”ok,tell” me, eagerly Samaranand asked.

Babulal’s narration:

As you know I have good contact with all kind of fellows so I hatched a plan. I got hold of a wrist watch, removed its internals and put some RDX putty with a wires connected through a button cell inside. The contact is made when one moves the winding knob of the watch, I put a dial which looked like a FM radio dial.

-Smart idea, Samaranand patted him and then looked around to see if anyone is overhearing their talk.

-Then what did you do?

-After making my special watch I started taking evening walk  at the other side of the lake near those cannons. I would hold the watch near my ear pretending to listen to a radio and would hum some Hindi songs. One evening a gang of four surrounded me and threatened me with knives, they asked me to hand over everything what I had. I gave them my purse, I hardly had any money then they noticed my watch and one of them asked, “Is that a radio watch?”

“Yes, it is but please don’t take this as I got it as a gift.’ I had to act as though I would not give that watch readily.

They laughed like hungry jackals, “Gift! Look at the stupid fellow!” Saying this they approached threateningly with knives, I had no choice so reluctantly gave the watch. Suddenly footsteps of evening guard were heard, those ruffians ran away with my watch and purse.I shouted,”Thief,thief!” The guards came running and I narrated my predicament, they asked me to lodge FIR. I said “Ok!” and then vanished from there.

That evening I watched in TV a news about a minor explosion in the slum of Tollygaunge and some young fellow getting injured. I rang up police from a public booth and told them that those were pickpockets where explosion had taken place. They were nabbed.

This details came out in newspaper yesterday.

-Wait, wait I know what happened after they snatched those from you, they must have gone to their den and then tried to operate the watch thinking that it was a radio. So by rotating the knob the internal connection was made  with the battery , those two wires embedded in RDX sparked and which triggered that explosion. That guy must have lost his arm.

Babulal shrugged his shoulder. Samaranand advised him to go undercover for sometimes as after getting released those rascals may try to hunt him down.

-No worries, I was in disguise with wig and spectacles. As a matter of fact, I was changing my guise every day before the incident.

Samaranand patted Babula for his smartness and paid 2000 bucks as a reward.

The trip...an experience

The trip

“Our actions are governed by our expectation. Like the journey you took to Jim Corbett with expectation to sight an uncaged tiger in the wilderness.” Samaranand my alter ego told me smilingly by the bank of river Dat near Kyari Corbett resort. I was on a trek to the dried river where I located him serenely enjoying the sunrise. I sat by his side and was narrating him our previous day experience.

On the second day of our trip we took the safari trip to Jim Corbett Tiger Reserve and came back without sighting a tiger. The safari of 35 kms one way inside the forest was pretty exciting as the official spotter went on spotting enthusiastically dears, pheasants, wild boars etc. The canter in which we were travelling was a rattling contraption, appeared to be an army truck converted for the purpose of safari. The noise, dust and bumpy road sums up the journey. The 35 kms road was winding up through the forest of tall shaal,shagun trees. The ambience was cool, the aroma of moist forest wafting in with chirping birds flying above effected all of us. At times the loud sound of the canter would stop as the driver would have switched off the engine and spotter would be searchingly look for wild animals, we all would be craning our necks for the sight, thus we saw deer, pheasants, wild elephants, wild boars and reached the guest house for lunch. There we found other travelers like us either in canter or in jeeps taking lunch but could hardly hear any discussion about wild animals. To ginger up the mood I shouted at our group and said, “We were lucky to spot tiger!’ I don’t know whether others heard me or not but it was kind of self-satisfying statement of assurance may be in the return we could spot some of those illusive 200 plus rumored tigers. The return journey of 2 and half hours with same sudden stops near the streams to wait for a tiger to stroll out for water which really never happened. The driver went on telling us tiger tales to convince us that somehow that day of March,2018 they were not coming out.

Finally, we could see tiger in the museum near the gate. It was stuffed tiger.

I must be frank that I did not go for the tiger but the name of the park being Jim Corbett Tiger Reserve gave expectation to all of us. When I posted some pictures of our safari then almost all friends had only one question to ask “Did we see the tiger?” Surprisingly while interacting with others after our return it emerged no one has really seen any tiger in that park. I am sure tigers are there but the noise made by all vehicles, tourists kept them stay away from those waterholes by the sides of roads. They too don’t like noise, likewise to avoid noise and crowd we too chose to stay in Kyari Corbett resort which is so deep in a forest that one cannot find it till one looks down on boulders where the direction to the resort is written.

This experience of mine made me think about the village Gosaba in Sunderbans which is known as widow Village, there are 700 odd widows in that village whose husbands were killed by tigers. Recently I contributed some money to an organization which was distributing free sarees to those poor ladies. Here are those people who survive by staying away from tigers and in Jim Corbett Tiger Reserve the tigers stay away from humans for survival.

“I heard about Gosaba village and the widows, it is not only tigers but also crocodiles in those swamps have killed villagers.” Samaranand added.

“Have you ever thought about those wild life photographers who patiently wait for days to take snaps of new or rare species of birds. Patience is the key word. You came with a tight schedule and lot of expectations!”

“True! ‘I admitted.

“What you gained out of this trip is experience! The long arduous bus journey with all of your relatives did not tire you as you were heading for a new experience, the journey itself with the stop in between at Mama Yadav dhaba would have been a never experienced event. Then you reached Kyari Corbett resort which is in wilderness without any road sign but you did not feel bad because it was a kind of adventure journey in the wilds. The bonfire in the night with antakshri by those enthusiastic kids was a kind entertainment which you never expected. Think about those two treks by the side of rivers, wheat fields and forest , you might have felt as though you are a character in Discovery Channel. These experiences are bonus in addition to your safari trip in Jim Corbett Tiger Reserve!’’

Samaranandji’s this explanation made me see the trip from a different angle altogether other than a destination oriented satisfaction like as though sighting a tiger was the goal.

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.