The time warp

 

The time warp

……………………

The crown of Qutub minar

We were running for our life, the ruffian with his two of his henchman was chasing us through the meena bazar of Qutub minar. It was midnight and the oblong moon lighted up the one side of Qutub. The weather was dry in September but it was not hot.

Suddenly a group of pathans appeared on horseback, seeing us being chased by those bandits they gave out a shout and bared their swords; we took this chance to hide behind the half-finished duplicate Qutub Minar.

I was cursing Rana for putting me in this jam; I should not have listened to him that day in Delhi. He knew that I was interested in odd things so he brought this pathan Yusuf to our guest house in Green Park,Delhi. Whenever I was visiting Delhi from Bhopal Rana would visit my room in BHEL guesthouse. He was an interesting character, he did his BTech from IIT,Delhi and was full of life. He knew my hobbies; he knew I was interested in odd events or items.

“You must meet Yusuf. He will tell you a strange story and may invite you to witness the incident!’”

I was intrigued by his preamble but he did not want to tell me about that so called strange experience of Yusuf. I reluctantly agreed to his suggestion. Next day he came with Yusuf, I clearly remember it was sometimes after 15^th August in 2001, I was visiting Delhi for some work.

Yusuf a very tall well-built fair complexioned middle-aged man greeted me; I invited both Rana and him to sit. Asked Adu Ram, the inchrge of our Guest House to organize tea.

‘I have heard about you from Rana. You presented a book “Who moved my cheese to Rana’’ after reading that book he changed his business plan.”

I smiled and said, “ Yes I advised him to expand his customer base, now he added Honda as his customer.”

“He told me that you have interest in paranormal, magic etc.”

“Yes, I have keen interest in those!”

“”Are you in Delhi on 31 st August and 1^st September?”’

“Yes, I am in Delhi on those days”

Yusuf said, “I am inviting you in the evening of 31^st August to my house by the side of Qutub Minar.”

“I have not seen any flat or houses there!”

“No sir, we have an old haveli near Qutub, it was built by my fore fathers around 16^th century. It is a crumbling edifice but I have modified the front portion of it.”

I nodded my head but was curious to know more about the event, which he wanted me to experience. “What will happen on those days?’

“I have not experienced that personally but was told by my Abbu. He had experienced it in 1968 on those dates. Have you heard about sun and moon aligning every 33 years? It means every 33 years on any given day sun and moon are on similar orbital position.”

I have heard about this phenomenon and have read some books on time travel and wormhole.

I nodded my head sand said,”Is it something to do with time travel and wormhole?”

He gave a broad smile and said, “Yes, but I doubt whether such thing really happen so thought why not you, me and Rana go through the experience together. This is 2001 which is exactly 33 years after 1968 when my Abbu had the experience. ”

Rana and him spent some time with me and left after about half an hour. We fixed up 31^st August as the date of meeting Yusuf in his haveli. Rana suggested that he would come and pick me up before that he would arrange some special dress. He asked for my size.

Before they were leaving, I asked Yusuf which year of the past he was targeting and hoped he knew how to reach that year.

He smiled and said, ‘My Abbu left an old diary which has instruction and location of the wormhole for the specific years. I am targeting 1803.”

After they left I googled to find who was ruling Delhi in 1803. It was turbulent year when  Sah Alam was ruling only Red fort under the protection of Marathas against British. Thought that if by chance we come across British soldiers our knowledge of English would come handy.

I got up early on 31^st August and went for my morning walk up to Delhi IIT. It was a wet morning with rainy season steadily receding. Saptaparni or Chatim (in Bengali) or Alstonia Scholaris flowers have started blooming and the aroma of that flower made me nostalgic about my childhood.

I was not sure about what I can carry with me as survival kit. I had my mobile and I carry Swiss knife and a pocket torch. I decided that I should wear a sports shoe in case we have to run due to some unknown reason. Rest I left to Rana and Yusuf to decide.

Rana came at 5 pm in his Innova and picked me up; I was carrying a bag with toiletries and change of cloth. Rana advised me not to take the bag as he in consultation with Yusuf had organized everything.

Within in half an hour we reached Yusuf’s haveli in old area of Qutub Minar. He was waiting outside for us. It was a majestic red brick structure with tall ceilings and running verandah.

We assembled in his drawing room , furniture of bygone days was tastefully placed among modern comfortable sofas, it was classic fusion of two eras.The drawingroom  had two big windows and two doors. I could see that he had retained the old style pankha hanging from the ceiling.

Yusuf noticed me looking at the pankha, he smiled and said, “ I have tried to retain the flavor of the past along with functional furniture of the present.”

“When I entered your drawing room then and there I did a time travel to our ancestral house in Allahabad which had such pankha for my grandfather, I faintly remembered that. Yes, we shouldn’t lose contact with our root.” I nodded in appreciation.

“What is our programme?” I asked after sitting down.

“We will finish our dinner by 8pm and then go to Qutub Minar. Before going to Qutub Minar we have to change our dress. I will just bring the dresses. Rana has helped me to get the dresses from a theatrical setup.”

Yusuf brought a briefcase and took out colourful pathani dresses, long kurtas, half coat and loose pajamas.

“Do we wear some kind of pagdi or fez? Are we to put on some false beard and all?” I asked mischievously.

Yusuf jumped up with excitement and said ,”We did not think about our facial hair, let me check with my friend who stays nearby. I have good collection of pagdis.’

Some false beard set was organized. After dinner, one by one we went inside to his bedroom to put on the Afgani dress. His servant helped us in putting on those, his wife had briefly come out from the sanctum sanctorum to say hello to us. He had already informed that his only son was studying Engineering in Bangalore.

We put on the makeup; we were transformed to a different personality from a different time. He showed us some Moghul time coins or asrafis that he said would be useful.

Pathan

We were carrying a dagger each, in case of any trouble.

We reached near Qutub Minar by 10 pm of 31^st August. I knew that the gates of Qutub Minar area would be locked and there would be CCTV cameras.

As if Yusuf could read my mind, he turned towards me and said,’ Don’t worry there is a way of going in at the back where there is hardly any security. The location of the wormhole for 1803 is near that place; yesterday I have done reconnaissance of the place.

Rana parked his Innova at a proper parking place at the back of Qutub Minar complex and then we walked down. We were the only one walking down with those strange apparels. Yusuf said, “ Don’t you worry there are many pathans in this area who still were dresses like this, all are not Sahrukh Khan!” he laughed out loudly.

He took us to a place where a person in ordinary dress was waiting for us to take us through the barriers. We crossed some shrubs and entered the compound, that person left us there. It was a silent moonlit night with the majestic Qutub Minar, 72.5 m tall standing like a sentinel guarding Delhi against all evils. I was hypnotized by that night view of the minar with crescent moon visible behind the minar , it casted a spell on me, I was lost in my thought when Rana said, “Roysahab wake up, let us go.”

I smiled shyly as I was caught[SNR1]  in my thought.

We walked for about 5 minutes towards a broken wall. I could see that Yusuf had marked the wall with a fluorescent yellow chalk, that wall was hidden in the shrubs. The diffused light of the tower lights of the compound lighted the area. Yusuf asked us to touch the wall and push. Three of us started pushing the wall, nothing happened. Yusuf took out an old notebook and studied that.

“My mistake! Let us go to the other side of the wall so that we can face Qutub Minar.”

I was scared if there was some snake or some other poisonous insect. Yusuf took out carbolic acid powder and sprinkled around the wall.

We went to the other side and started pushing, I felt as though I was floating in the air, I was passing through a  tunnel with the body rotating like a spinning top and was thrown off.. Three of us were lying on a rough ground. The manicured lawn had vanished. There was no light; there were no electrical light at all. At a distance, we could see scattered tents and some oil lamps, faint voices of many people talking simultaneously as though some kind of midnight market was operating. I looked at the moonlit Qutub, the moon was at the same place, I was surprised to find Qutub had it’s crown which in my last visit found on the ground near the minar. The whole atmosphere was eerie, Rana was not his jubilant self, Yusuf was ready, as his Abbu had told him long back what to expect.

Yusuf quickly rearranged the shrubs and broke some twigs near wall as marker so that while returning we do not miss it, I left a matchbox near the shrub. We started walking towards the source of voices. We had crossed the half-finished minar of Alauddin Khilji. Keeping that minar to the right, we started walking towards source of sound, it was around 11 pm then. Yusuf told us we would spend 4 to 5 hours and then return. I was feeling a bit uneasy but the surrounding of Qutub minar of that period was different and it was pretty inviting, I was feeling as though I am in some film set in Istanbul.We could see lanes with brick houses and scattered tents, smell of horse dung was hanging in the air. Practically by the side of all tents, horses were tied. Outside some of the tents there, travelers were relaxing.

Yusuf suggested we locate a saraikhana for taking rest. As we neared the habitat we could hear Sufi song wafting in the air, we crossed the tents to reach the source of Sufi Qwali. On the way people shouted at us and Yusuf replied in Pushto that we were travelers from Mathura.

We entered the courtyard of the shrine where a dervish was sitting on a podium and around him qwalls were sitting with sarangi, harmonium, tabla etc. No one bothered about us, we could see about 50 people were assembled in front the dervish. As such constantly, people were coming and going. It was all male affair.

Yusuf enquired from a passerby about the location of any nearby mussafirkhana. That fellow looked suspiciously at us and showed us the way. I realized that I was the reason of suspicion as I was wearing a modern titanium spectacle like which was yet to be invented.

We crossed the courtyard and walked for about 100 meters and found a place humming with people, horses were tied outside. It looked like a saloon in wild west films. Surprisingly inside was spacious and not many people were around, a dim oil lamp was stuck on the wall.  Yusuf took the lead and found a room was available in the ground floor, the inn keeper would organize water but no food, no toilet. Yusuf paid some asrafi which his Abbu had brought during his travel. The room was spacious, it was like a dormitory with beds spread on the floor, one window, no latches on the door. As per our daily routine it was bed time. We decided to take rest for 2 hours and then take round of the shrine of sufi and the head for Qutub minar for heading back.

As per programme we checked out of the inn and walked back to the shrine of the Sufi. The innkeeper had informed me those Sufis were disciple of Nizamuddin, the sufi saint of 14^th century.

A dervish was quoting Nizamuddin Aulia from the podium, “Reflection is the lamp of the heart,if it departs, the heart will have no light.So friends you must reflect before taking any action. Let the heart guide you.”’

We stood for sometimes to absorb the mystical feel of the night of 19^th century in 1803.

We started walking to wards Qutub Minar, night was progressing towards day when we felt that some people were following us. Sure enough the same fellow who had given direction at the shrine was following us with 3 of his henchmen. That rascal had figured us to be innocent travelers with money. We started running towards the wall when the Afgan horse riders appeared and chased those ruffians. We waited for sometimes then entered the courtyard of Qutub minar. I went and touched the minar, took a picture of the full height Qutub with the crown ,Yusuf and Rana. We were startled by some footsteps, the ruffians have reappeared, we took off and suddenly felt as though the whole earth was shaking, there was rumbling sound. The earth was shaking violently, the Qutub minar was swaying, the crown of the Qutub came down crashing, and those ruffians were buried under that  crown which fell on the ground with a thud.

It lasted for a few minutes or so and suddenly it stopped. The silence was pierced by the screams of people who were running helter skelter. The horses were neighing wildly. it was devastation everywhere. Luckily the Qutub minar lost it’s crown but it was still standing erect. There were debris of structures, uprooted trees. We could see some tents had caught fire from the oil lamps. It was mayhem everywhere.

We were worried whether our wall of wormhole was still there or not. We ran at the back of Qutub complex and found it to be still there.

Yusuf told us that now we have to push from the other side with our back to the Qutub. We did that and had the same experience of spinning, travelling through a tunnel, and finally thrown on the ground. I looked at present Qutub majestically standing erect with eastern sky slowly reflecting the rising sun light.

We quietly went out of the compound of Qutub, the experience of that massive earthquake had shaken us. Probably if I would have known that there would be that earthquake I wouldn’t have ventured.

We went to Yousuf’s house changed to our original dress, thanked him for everything.

Rana dropped me at the guest house. Next day I found from the net in my laptop that early morning of 1^st September,1803 there was a massive earthquake in northern India , there was lot of destruction, Qutub minar lost its crown.

I reached for my cell phone to look for the picture, which I have snapped of Qutub with crown, but it was lost in the turmoil of earth quake. That was the only proof I had of the time travel.

I found 1st September of 2001 is 6x33 +1803=2001.

 

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 [SNR1]

The ransom ....concluding part of The mask

The ransom

“Yes,yes we will call it Coronavirus !” Soumaya yelled with joy while his fingers played with the laptop like he was playing a piano key board.

Samaranand, Babulal and Soumaya were in Samaranand’s flat in Golf Green to catchup with  the progress of teaching a lesson to the owner of Pakheer Basha. The readers would recall that Babulal had visited Prantik in Bolpur , under guidance of Samaranand could lift the curtain on the mystery of dancing mask at night that was the doing of the owner to get the guest move out much before scheduled time. Samaranand’s friend Dinu and his family was one such victim.

Samaranand had promised Dinu that he would teach that Ghose ( owner of Pakheer Basha) fellow a lesson. After that talk Samaranand sent Babulal once again to Prantik to collect data about the past guests who stayed in Pakheer Basha and also to collect guest list and details of similar setups run through B& B (bed and breakfast) at Prantik.

Armed with the data he framed a plan with Babulal and Soumaya. Readers may know that Soumaya is a computer geek and a hacker. Initial plan was simple, it was to lower the rating of Pakheer Basha in all social media platforms like Google, Facebook, B& B page etc. This was in Soumaya’s domain of expertise. Soumaya also carries out rating enhancement through his cahoots in Tollygaunge and Sealdah slums. He has 50 boys who carryout this, Soumaya has given each a smartphone and pays for the monthly subscription, the boys are excited with this free phone so they happily carryout the task of putting like in FB,comment, star rating etc in Google and so on as instructed by Soumaya. All of them have established false identity in virtual network. In this particular case false identity would not work as the guest who really stayed there would have to give the rating as the owner Ghose was clever enough to tally the name with the guest list.

Armed with actual guest list Soumaya had a meeting with his team in Sealdah slum. One of the boys who was also savvy in computer pointed out that if they assume the guest name then their IP address can be tracked in case Ghose becomes suspicious and takes help of some IT expert. They also knew Ghose enhances the star rating with the help of such group. Then Soumaya had a bright idea of involving Lee from Chinatown who was also a fellow hacker.

Next they had a meeting with Lee at Big Boss restaurant in Tangra. Lee suggested to use his hacker friends in China who can carry out the rating war.

Soumaya kept Samaranand and Babulal aware of his plan.

 The group in China was given the names of the past guests of Pakheer Basha, Samaranand supplied the content as Chinese were not good in English. Initially 3 star was given by the Chinese group by phising the identity of one of the past guests, they were routing through Pakistan. Immediately within 6 hours someone gave 5 star and the average rating was maintained as 4.5 in Google. It was clear that Ghose had used his agency to neutralize the poor rating.They started the war on Google first. Then 4 of them gave 2 each and the average came down below 4, we all know anything below 4 is shunned. The game of Star War was hotting up between unknown players in the virtual battle field. They found in the meanwhile Ghose was trying to reply on each of the comment by promising to improve the performance. Within 2 days the rating of Pakheer Basha climbed down below 3. The group from China hacked B&B page and put adverse comment about the setup. The group had the list of guests of other such setups in Prantik, they praised those and started discouraging people from going to Pakheer Basha.

After a fortnight Babulal was again sent to Prantik to make a discreet inquiry about the result of the cyber-attack. From the Toto driver Khokon he gathered that Gopi was complaining that no new guests were coming, the owner was unhappy, as Gopi could not make them happy; he feared that he might lose the job.

Samaranand never wanted Gopi to lose job. So he advised Soumaya to suggest the Chinese group to directly meddle with the webpage of Pakheer Basha and other business which that business group controls.

Now the attack was direct, first they meddled with their computing system and thus all emails got screwed. Next they got into their data base and blocked it by using Ransomware.This virus caused total paralysis of the computing system in Ghose's establishment. Ghose could not carryout on line transactions, email etc.

Yes by this time reader must have understood that why Soumaya yelled and said, “We will call it coronavirus” as it came from China, of course not from Wuhan city of China.

Ghose received a Text message on his mobile informing him that if he doesn’t a pay a certain amount then he cannot retrieve his data. The amount was to be paid in cash and at a designated place in Tangra, which will be informed, to him later.

We are not aware of Ghose's reaction but from the Chinese group it was gathered by Soumaya that Ghose was compelled to pay a good sum of money to make his computer system normal.

Overnight the rating of Pakheer Basha started going up and within 4 days reached to 4.5.
A certain percentage of the money came to Soumaya who utilized that in purchasing some smart phones for his new recruit from the slums. He with his team of slum boys were on the lookout for new business area. They had less overhead so could under quote established players. In addition to rating enhancement they were engaged in cyber security also.
Samaranand with a twinkle in his eyes suggested,'Tap Ghose for cyber security job!" Babulal and Soumaya laughed out loudly !
All three headed for WOW,China at Park Street to celebrate as the mission was accomplished  with the help of friendly Chinese hackers!

Decoding the mask

Decoding the mask

“’The owner of Pakheer Basha at Prantik is a crook!’’ Samaranand said when he on his morning walk routine met his friend Dinu. Yes same Dinu who had to cut short his trip because of a mask. They were sitting on a bench by the side of lake when Samaranand was narrating his discovery. This time he had his assistant Babulal with him

Samaranand’s said, “You gave us the details like email id of the owner,mobile number of Gopi,and the location of the bungalow. I sent Babulal to Bolpur to nose around.” Then he looked at Babulal to tell his side of the story. 
Those who have been following exploits of Samaranand are aware that Babulal who had been assisting magicians, Sadhus in Delhi had run away from there and now with the help of computer wizard Soumaya is in various schemes of making money. He was helped by Samaranand to settle down in Kolkata and often does the legwork for Samaranand as he loves adventure. He is slightly built with modern spikey haircut. That day he was in jeans, sneakers and a bomber jacket. His appearance is ordinary and innocent, easily melts in a crowd.

Babulal coughed slightly and started his narration hesitantly.

Uncle (he calls Samaranand uncle) gave me all the details he collected from you and I rang up your nephew to get some details about Gopi. I came to know that Gopi is a son of a farmer and maintains the garden of the bungalow. He with his family stays in the outhouse, his school-going son is good in studies.He coordinates with the guests for food and local movement by totos (battery powered auto rickshaws). Your nephew Shubho mailed me a picture of the mask which you took while you first entered the bungalow. I got a similar mask made by an artisan in kumortuli.

I went to Bolpur and took a hotel accommodation near prantik, there are cheap lodgings available around that place. After checking in I did a quick reconnaissance of Pakheer Basha by taking a toto as suggested by uncle. On inquiring, the toto driver informed that Gopi has some fixed toto drivers who he calls. I became friendly with that toto driver Jhontu. I took him to a tea stall and fed him snacks. He promised that next day he would introduce me with one of those regular drivers of toto.

Next day Jhontu took me to the nearest toto stand at Prantik station and introduced me to Khokon. I was carrying the duplicate mask in a side bag when I went to meet Khokon. I used my charm to make friend with Khokon, I offered him imported cigarette which uncle had given me on his return from Australia.

Samaranand smiled and said, “As a ritual I purchase a pack of 10 Dunhill packets at Singapore. I gave one to Babulal, I have one for you too.”

“No, yar I have stopped smoking. “ Dinu said and then with his eyes he signaled Babulal to continue.

Babulal continues addressing Dinu.

I asked Khokon about your group , whether he remembers ferrying you. He remembered your group as you did not do any haggling with fare. He was feeling bad that you left abruptly but then informed that very next day a big group had come. It was one of those NRI ,Bengali groups. I got suspicious that how come very next day a group can come when your booking was still there. In the evening, I invited Khokon for dinner and drink. After a few peg he informed that Poltu is the most trusted toto driver of Gopi. That day while going to Kankali tala he had seen Gopi and Poltu in a huddle near the gate of Pakheer Basha and passed on an opbject looking like a mask. I pulled out the duplicate mask, and showed him , he jumped up in his chair and confirmed that it was the mask.

I requested him to introduce me to Poltu. Next day Khokon took me  to the same toto stand near Prantik and introduced me to Poltu as  cousin brother. Poltu suspiciously looked at me, I gave him a broad smile. I hired him for Kankali tala. He was silently driving, we were passing the serene mustard field there was not much crowd on the road, and occasionally overloaded bus would pass. I put on the mask and tapped Poltu. He looked back gave out a gurgling sound and stopped the toto. He was of average height with shifty eyes.

“Who gave you that mask?” Poltu shouted at me.

“Who else, Gopi.”I said.

“How can he give you the mask, you are a new person."

I removed the mask and sternly said, "I am from police" and showed him my false id card. 

"A few days back you hired a boy to pretend to sell the mask to an elderly passenger at Kankali tala. He had reported to police.I have been sent to inquire."

Poltu was on his knees, started babbling, "If i go to jail who would look after my old parents. This Gopi fellow asked me to play the prank on that gentleman."

"How frequently do you do the mask drama?"

"Mostly during busy tourist season."

"Then what happens?"

"Mostly next day the tourists leave Pakheer Basha."

I asked him to return back and instructed him to bring Gopi to me or otherwise i would be compelled to arrest him.
Pronto by evening time Poltu brought the caretaker Gopi to my room in the lodge. Gopi was a thin fellow , average height of 5ft 5inches with a shabby pant, torn sweater and sandals. In the meanwhile i had befriended a local policeman and requested him to be there in my room as i was going to expose a scam.
In presence of Gopi i told the constable that here was the culprit of the scam about which i was telling him. Gopi was in tears and i could sense that Poltu had already briefed him. With folded hand he said, "I am a poor man. I have to feed my family so i did whatever my master from Kolkata instructed."
Tell me ," did you you stage the mask fiasco in the night."
"The ground floor bedroom has a sliding door in the cupboard from the adjoining room. I took off the mask from the wall, entered the room and breathed down on memsahib with the mask on my face. by the time she was stirring up quietly i got in the cupboard and came out."
"You must be doing this often to scare away guests. Let me guess you then went up and repeated the act with others.But then how did you get out when all assembled in the hall?"
"That was not difficult sir, i went down the pipe from the balcony"' He told sheepishly.
Thus my investigation completed, i have been reporting the progress regularly to uncle. I asked the constable to deal with the situation. I am sure that the constable might have taken some money from Dinu and left him scot free.
Dinu was seething with anger as cunningly they had been fooled , he asked, "why did they do this to us?"
"First you have picked  a fight , given low star rating and secondly they must have charged a tidy some from the NRI group. As we know for such short booking there is surge pricing in hotels and such places which is much higher than what you had paid as you booked 2 months in advance.." Samaranand explained patiently.
"So they have been doing this trick during peak seasons."Dinu asked.
"Yes, also i checked in Google about your giving 3 stars rating to Pakheer Basha. Immediately within 4 hours of your posting there was another posting giving 5 star to the joint. The average of 4.4 star was thus maintained."
"It means they have lackeys who boost up the star ratings in all such platforms, rascals!" Dinu said brightly.
"Yes, haven't you noticed those advertisement about work from home earning for house wives and retired person. There are agencies who manipulate ratings by utilizing ids of such individuals against some monthly sum. These people retweet, give like in Face Book, manipulate ratings in all kind of virtual platforms." Samaranand explained patiently.
"How to teach a lesson to this rascal?" Dinu looked at Saranand and Babulal.
"Uncle has a plan!"Babulal said with a broad smile.
Yes,Samaranand has a plan to screw those rascals.

The mask

The Mask

“Yes we had to cut short our stay in Bolpur because of a mask!” exasperatedly told Dinu.

Samaranand was surprised to see Dinu taking a morning walk in his usual grey tracksuit and a black fleece hoody that day. When he last met, Dinu a few days back then he informed Samaranand that he would be away for a week or so to Bolpur where his brother with his family from Delhi would join. His nephew had booked a bungalow called “Pakheer basha “ ( Bird’s nest ) through B&B at Prantik. But to his surprise found Dinu taking walk within 3 days of his tour which was of more than seven days.

On inquiring the reason of Dinu’s early return, he got the answer.

Sensing an interesting story Samaranand invited Dinu to a bench by the side of the lake and eagerly asked ,”Tell me the story of mask !”

Dinu coughed and looked sheepishly at Samaranand and said you , “You will not believe as you are a rationalist !”

Samaranand laughed out loudly , winked at Dinu and said , “Even an interesting ghost story or supernatural would have some logic. Come on tell me in full, don’t leave any small detail.’’

Dinu started telling about his trip to Santiniketan.

Me and my wife reached by 9 am to Howrah station to Catch Santiniketan Express which leaves at 10.10 am from platform 12. We asked our driver to wait and trooped to the Food Plaza for breakfast. Had alooparatha my favourite.

Dinu took a breath and mischievously looked at samaranand and said ,” Look I am not leaving any detail!”

Samaranand smiled and said “”continue, leave the semantics .”

Dinu continued…

We got in the chair car and occupied our seats 45 and 46 in Coach C2 . The train started as scheduled. In front of us a group of six oldies with wives were travelling and were noisy as hell. I couldn’t concentrate in reading the book by Jeffrey Archer  “Nothing Ventured”, my wife was trying to get sleep in the window seat. The train reached on time at 12.30  and Bappa was there to receive.

We took a toto after haggling for fare, we reached near Camelia but then the toto driver was not able to locate the Pakheer Basha. He took guidance from some local youth and took a kuch pakka road deep inside Prantik.

Samaranand said, “I know Camelia hotel, I had stayed there many times about 20 years back, Prantik was just getting developed, a few scattered houses could be seen from the hotel.”’

Dinu continued..

Now Prantik is full of Bungalows but the connecting roads are bad.

We reached the destination , my brother and his family were already there. Two bedrooms in first floor and one in ground floor, we took the ground floor bedroom. The living room,drawing room and dinning room combined is a big hall. One of the walls of the drawing room is decorated with various masks, some of those are scary one. I commented that the house owner must have put CCTV camera behind one of those masks.

Samaranand stopped Dinu and commented, “”Are those chau dance masks, typical of Bengal.”

“No, there was not a single of Chau kind, those were pretty scarry. I asked Gopi the caretaker about those masks and pointed a particular black mask, where can I get one like that?’’

He told that those masks are not available in local ethnic markets. We finished our lunch quickly. We were famished so did not bother about the quality of food.  Took rest and then called totos through Gopi to take round of Sona Jhuri market. The journey by toto through that kacha pakka road was bone breaking . After marketing we headed back through the same pot holed road. I was irritated because of bumpy journey, I was cursing myself for not checking the location prior to booking. The dinner was terrible, it appears that all these B&B type bungalows get their food from a common kitchen which  must be a typical Bengali roadside joint of cheap type. My nephew lost cool and sent angry email to the owner. I started reviewing Pakheer Basha in Google , gave three stars, before posting it I looked at the mask and said loudly I am giving 3 stars, I wanted to give 2 stars but the bungalow with it’s amenities compelled me to give 3.

The breakfast was worst, half-cooked puri. My nephew informed that the owner has replied and put the onus back on us saying we had a choice to go elsewhere. I was not expecting such reply when we know that there is dog eat dog meat competition out there in the market.

We took toto and headed for Kankalitala. As usual the toto was organised by Gopi,the caretaker. We reached Kankalitala in 20 minutes. While taking round of the market by the side of temple I was approached by a boy who pulled out a black mask like the one hanging in the bungalow and asked whether I was interested in buying. I asked him to wait and took out my mobile to take a snap, when I turned the boy had vanished. I was flummoxed, I patted my trouser pocket to check whether my wallet was still there. I narrated this incident to my brother and nephew. They thought I was pulling their leg.

We spent two hours at the temple, took snaps. Kankali tala is one the 51 shakti piths, it is said that Devi’s rib cage had fallen here.

“’Yes I know the mythology. As we know Lord Shiva was seething with anger on sati’s death, he was doing his earth shattering tandav dance. All the Devas approached Vishnu to find a solution. All of them came to the conclusion that until the dead body of Devi is not removed Shiva would not cool down. Vishnu with his Sudershan chakra dissected the body of sati, those 51 parts thus cut fell throughout India and each place had become a Pithasthan, Hindu devotees throng to those 51 pithasthans. Satis two parts fell in Pakistan, then of course it was India. Those two places are Hinglaj and Shivakaraya, many devotees from India go on pilgrimage to those places.”” Samaranand added.

Dinu continued;
After finishing round of Kankalitala we headed for tourist lodge for lunch, we wanted to avoid lunch in Pakheer Bashaa because of bad experience. We spent rest of the day going round Tagore's abode, Santiniketan.
Before dinner we had a few pegs while again the masks on the wall were looking down at us. I lifted the glass and said, ' Cheers"'  to the mask. After a drink we asked Gopi to serve dinner. As usual it was bad. My nephew Shubho again sent an angry email.
It was getting late, we hit the bed. My wife who is a light sleeper suddenly got up  and woke me up. 
"There is someone in the room. I have clearly seen that black mask breathing down on my face."
I got down from the bed and searched the room including looking below the bed. There was no one. I opened the connecting door to the drawing room, switched on the light and went to the wall, the mask was missing. Hearing us moving in drawing room my bother and Shubho came down. They too were shaken as the mask was seen by them too either in the far corner dancing or looking at them through the window. We shouted for Gopi,he came from the outhouse rubbing his sleepy eyes. We were all agitated and confronted him. He showed total ignorance about the mask incident. We could not sleep properly in the night.
During breakfast we decided to leave for Calcutta, we had paid money in advance so Shubho once again spoke to the owner regarding our decision of vacating the rooms earler than schedule. That rascal told that he can refund ten percent of the balance money. He knew anyhow we would leave so blackmailed us. Somehow we managed to get reservation in ordinary chair car of Santiniketan Express for our return to Kolkata.
Samaranand is a rationalist and does not believe in supernatural so his binary mind was busy in finding a logical reason, he believes in black and white, there is no place for grey.
Samaranand decided to find out the truth about the incidence of Mask at Prantik. He immediately rang up his assistant Babulal and started making programme for Santiniketan.
"I will go to the root of the mask mystery!" Samaranad said with resolve to Dinu.

The Sherpa

The Sherpa

The climb

I was dangling in the crevice .It was bottomless, I looked up for help nothing was visible in the blizzard; it was certain death for me. Like a slide show, my whole life whizzed past in my mind starting with my school days in Nikkaduokta and college days in mining engineering college in Kiruna, my climbing expedition of Sweden’s tallest mountain Kebnekse , my failed marriage and finally my this attempt to climb Mt.Everest. My backpack was still there but my Oxygen mask with the cylinder had torn off. I was gasping for oxygen , I was hanging there with the support of my climbing harness which was tied to my mountaineering axe through my climbing rope. I shouted , “Help,help!” in vain.

Suddenly I felt the rope was sliding down, I got ready for the end, the axe could not take my weight any longer, I closed my eyes, I don’t believe in God but at that last second in my life I started hoping for a miracle.

I felt a jerk, I found I was slowly going up, finally God has sent a help or he himself had come. I could not believe this miracle, I was hallucinating, I have read somewhere that when death is very near then people start imagining all kinds of positive things. I have read some near death experience where they have felt as though some angel was leading them through a cave , there was light at the end of the cave.

Slowly I too could see a hazy light at the top, the rope was slowly pulling me up. I too put my climbing boots on the wall of the crevices and slightly inclined my body forward so that I can put my ebbing strength in the work of climbing up. It was too much, I blacked out.

With a jerk, I opened my eyes, it was dark but I could breath. I realized that I was wearing an oxygen mask; I tried to get up but a hand restrained me from getting up. The owner of the hand was messaging my calves, palms; I realized he was trying to normalize my blood circulation. I wanted to get up to see the stranger who saved my life or is it that i am dead and was in afterlife station?

 

     I tried to remember the sequence of events which led to my this predicament.

I was trying to enjoy the scenic beauty of Lohtse so came out of camp 2. It was plain surface of ice at the foothill of Lohtse at 8000 meter.There were climbers with us who were to attempt climbing Lohtse. The snow peak of Lohtse with setting sun ray bouncing on it was a mesmerizing sight with iridescent colour display. I was told the climb to that mountain is pretty steep and requires more climbing technique than climbing Mt.Everest. It was afternoon so I had planned with my Sherpa to climb to Camp 1 next day and then attempt climbing the summit of Everest. Before us already a few groups have hurried forward in excitement of climbing Everest. A long queue of climbers were trying for the final assault. At the base camp, we were told that in that year of 2017 Nepal government had issued license to some 3580 groups to attempt climbing Everest from the South side, with death rate of 1.2 percent people have become bold. No wonder there were so many tents in camp 2.Most of the Indian climbers were sponsored, one climber told me that something like 30 to 40 lakhs Indian rupee he raised for his climb. I too raised money from some commercial firms for my equipment but mostly it was my own money. The bad marriage forced me to take this break.

While I was strolling towards Lohtse I was careful enough to take all my climbing gears along. The temperature of my hometown Nikkaduokta goes down to minus 30 degree so the temperature of minus 18 was not much for me. I had watched how the Indian climbers were wearing tons of woolens.

While taking a stroll alone I did not notice how far I had gone. In the month of May I was not expecting any avalanche or blizzard but then suddenly there was blizzard and it was so unexpected that I stumbled forward and stepped in that damn crevice. I hurriedly hammered down my mountaineering axe at the lip of the crevice and tumbled down with my climbing rope, my oxygen mask tore off.

I kept the weather bitten grey diary on my night table and started thinking about the adventure of the climber, whew, it was quite a harrowing tale. I was reading the diary of Liam Johansson a climber from Sweden. Babulal had recently gone to Varanasi and managed to get this diary from a boatman. It appears that climber has by mistake left his diary in the boat. The boatman had the diary with him for more than a year. No one came to claim. While Babulal was going to Dashawamedh ghat by boat from Assighat then boatman Ganesh told him about the diary. Babulal knew that I was interested in this kind of odd things so got the diary after paying Ganesh some handsome money.

I had randomly opened the diary, started reading, it kept me glued. After reading, this portion decided to watch Discovery Channel on Mt.Everest ascent next day to visualize the climb. The Ascent of Everest by John Hunt was side book in our Delhi Higher Secondary course, i could co relate the events described.The two factors, altitude and the weather, tend separately and together to defeat the climber. The height weakens, slows him down ; The weather ,besides adding to the demands on his energy and moral fortitude, conspires to deny him the time he needs to complete the mission. The mission of climbing Everest is daunting and arduous task no doubt. 

I hit the bed and decided to read the rest of the diary next day to know about the mysterious helping hand. Was that yeti or God?

Sadhu and me

I have this penchant of being  drawn to Sadhus, it is not acquired now but as far as I can remember it is there from my childhood. During our school days in Delhi, we would be following Sadhus with Kamandal and Trishul  whenever they came to our area, as though they were pied pipers. They would be going round the houses to collect food grains or money and we would follow them around. Some of them would get annoyed finding us following them . However, a few would entertain us by singing bhajan or show some magic like producing something from the air.

I have interacted with various Sadhus during my adult life, in my earlier blogs  I had mentioned those.

I am not very clear whether Sadhus attract me or they see an easy prey in me to make a kill so they approach me, this boosts my ego as though I am the chosen one. One such Sadhu fleeced me of some money when I was in Barauni inspite of my wife cautioning me that the fellow was a fraud.

But now I will tell you about a Sadhu the conversation with him is still etched in my mind.

It happened long time back.

The meter gauge train from Gauhati was whistling out, I was waving at my friends from my first class compartment. Those days first class was a coupe of two. There were lot of women seeing off a Sadhu who was my co passenger. His devotees made the bed for him in the lower berth, my reservation was for upper berth, but it was yet not sleeping time. From the door, I looked back, the sadhu in plain white kurta and dhoti was sitting relaxed, I was irritated as he had left no place for me to sit. With irritation in my voice I said, “It is not yet sleeping time!”

He was embarrassed and with a folded hand invited me to share his bed, “Sorry for the inconvenience, my devotees in over enthusiasm spread the bed. If you wish I can roll it!’’

‘”No , please don’t, I will sit by your side.’’ I was ashamed of my rude behavior.

My luggage was below the seat; I pulled out my suitcase , took out my nightwear and headed for the attached washroom. After changing to casuals I comfortably sat by his side.

“Have you taken dinner? I can offer you some.”

“”Thanks, I had dinner at the station dining hall with my friends, you please carry on.”

“I don’t take dinner; I will take some fruits before going for sleep.”

Thus our acquaintance started. During the conversation, he told me that he has followers in Assam, Bengal and Bihar running to nearly a lakh.

He smiled at me and said, “From your attitude and questions I can make out that you don’t have much faith in God.”

I was caught, hesitantly asked him,’How do you know that the God exists?”

“Why your own Ramakrishna has said that if you believe then the God is there but if you don’t then the God doesn’t exist. It is the belief. You actually want to see or feel Him.’”

The discussion was becoming interesting; I was getting warmed up to the subject as I could feel that I was having conversation with a wise learned person..

He continued.

Have you seen Alaska? Have you seen Mars? You have not but you have heard or read about those. Similarly, you would get people who have felt Him or got some blessings from Him. I know you are a student of science and will look for scientific proof. Have you ever wondered who had produced so many species of leaving beings, the ocean and mountain? Can scientists produce a  tree where the water will be found like inside a coconut? Do you know that an albatross flies round the world without flapping it’s wings. Who designed those wings, which they flap only while taking off or coming down? It is believed they sleep during the flight, rarely come down and keep flying hundreds of miles without any rest, in their life period of 60 years or so they fly millions of miles. The aero engineers are studying the flight pattern and wings of this bird to design efficient airframe. Imagine a bird weighing 7 kgs or more flying on wing span of 12 feet across the continent miles after miles. Who has created this heaviest creature to fly?
There is God in every living being, you me and all.When you help some needy then you become God for him for that moment. We can not do faith healing but at least by extending our sympathy and empathizing with others problem we can give healing touch to their troubled soul.I don't perform any miracle or don't have solution for disease, that is the job of a doctor. i listen to others problems , try explaining the reason. 

Whatever he said on that day is the universal truth, there is no conflict of ideas, i was pretty impressed by his prabachan.

Well I was a skeptic but after talking to him I could know the limitation of my knowledge. Those days there was no Google to get instant information, one got to study books to acquire knowledge and then have to have intelligence to interpret those information. That Sadhu had read books and some realization had come to him which made him to adopt the life of a sage. To me he did not appear to be a fake like the modern ones we come across. He did not offer any magic potion to me like I have mentioned in my other encounters.

It was approaching bedtime, after bidding him good night; I climbed to my upper berth.

Next day morning the train reached Barauni, again there was a crowd of devotees to receive him. He smiled at me; I waved at him and got down with my luggage.

During my service life i was lucky to be posted in BHEL,Bhopal where apart from day to day work there were lot of social events. I was fortunate to come across some religious leaders like Jitamanand of Ramakrishna Mission, Rajeswaranand ( a muslim sufi turned hindu sage), the head of Digambar Jain sect, Shankaracharya of Kanchi,Mata Amritanandmayi of Kerala etc but that Sadhu on Assam Mail left an everlasting impression in my mind.

The Northern light

Yupik thrust a gaming rifle to me, I was terrified as we were chased by a pack of wolves in that snowy Siberia. I had fired a few shots during my NCC days but this situation was of life and death. Our sled pulled by husky dogs was smoothly sliding on piegnartoq (solid ice in Eskimo language), the green Northern light or Aurora Borealis was sufficient enough to see the vast icy landscape but suddenly the pack of wolves appeared from nowhere.

I had not bargained for this kind of adventure when Alexendrov offered me in Moscow to show Eskimos and their life styles. It was planned as two days trip, take two and half hours flight by Ural Airlines to Tbilisi, check in the hotel and  go to the nearest sled station for a round trip in that Siberian habitat of Eskimos. Stay the night in Tbilisi after the trip and next day return. It looked a very convenient plan to me so I had agreed.

From Tbilisi airport, Alexandrov and me took a taxi to a cheap hotel named Ma Xata, within half an hour we were in the hotel. It was in April ,the days were short but if we were lucky enough then it would be possible to see the Northern light during the late evening. We had a quick lunch then headed for the sled station at the out skirt of Tbilisis for our journey to the heart of Siberia by sled.

We had two sled drivers Insupiat and Yupik , over my jacket I was wearing a hooded parka and snow goggles to save the eyes from frost. Four of us on the sled, it was moving at 20km/h speed with 6 husky dogs were pulling it.The icy wind was hitting my face, i pulled out the stainless steel flask from my parka pocket and took a swig of brandy.It was ice everywhere a few slades zipped past,shadowy skeleton of fur trees were visible at the horizon. Slowly evening was setting in, I was eagerly waiting for the nature’s miracle. Suddenly Yupik shouted and said something in his language, Alexendrov  told me that we were lucky and pointed at the Northern sky. The sky was yellowish green and an inverted cone, which was moving like sea waves in the sky. The green light with occasional  blue and violet was reflected on the ice and was casting a magic spell all around. It was ice all around so the view was magnificent. For me it was like watching a surreal show , produced and directed by some mighty force. The distant fur trees were acting like stage where this magical display was demonstrated ,we stopped the sled to watch the display.

We were mesmerized but our two Eskimo friends were alert when they heard some howling at a distance. They turned the sled for returning, we had to abandon the plan of visiting an Igloo. Now a days of course Eskimos stay in regular concrete houses but some igloos are there for display to the tourists.

The hungry pack of wolves were chasing us, the dogs also increased their speed,  the sled was moving at 30 km/h speed, the icy wind was buffeting our faces. The magic moment of sighting the Northern light became a nightmare. I took the rifle and pulled the trigger, it was a Remington repeater bolt action old style rifle. Insupiat was driving the sled, we three were firing at the wolves. Yupik was in cool frame of mind, our rifle shots had discouraged those wolves, Yupik pulled out a sack from the tarp covering our belongings and unbound it, pulled out some dry reindeer meat  which he kept as emergency food, started throwing the meat pieces at those wolves. Those wolves slowed down, started sniffing at the thrown meat pieces. I was terrified but then I could see the silhouette of those wolves in the multi color three dimensional light of Aurora Borealis in the northern sky. I will never forget that experience in my life.

The Aurora is an incredible light show caused by collisions between electrically charged particles released from the sun that enter the earth's atmosphere and collide with gases such as oxygen and nitrogen. The lights are seen around the magnetic poles of the northern and southern hemispheres.

I was sitting on my favourite chair in the drawing room, the bottle of pill given by the sadhu to enhance my virtual travel ability was on the table. I reread Jack London's White Fang and watched Ice Station Zebra to ferret out information on the polar region before popping the pill. I had the above experience as the pill triggered the capsules in my memory wall, the story which my subconscious mind was building came alive, it appeared as though i was watching a 3 D movie where i was one of the casts.

Junk/castoffs/bric-a-brac/useless things

I was rummaging through my side drawer but still I could not locate the item, which I was hunting. My wife though she was in the kitchen but her keen 6^th sense was visualizing my activity.

“What are you searching?”

“I am trying to find the gold plated Parker pen which was presented to me some 20 years back!” I shouted back and still going through both upper and lower drawers and finally could locate it stuck in one corner among my collection of dot pens. Yes, this happens quite often with me, suddenly I will feel why not take the pen which I purchased in Australia or the one I purchased at airport. As such, there is no sentimental value attached but still I get attached to these inert objects and waste my time in hunting those.

Now let me explain about my personal side drawers, which is kept bang next to my favorite chair. I was often misplacing things so decided to purchase this small side drawer of two compartments for dumping my important papers or documents like PAN,Voter ID,Adhar, all user manuals,my watches, the earphones which comes with mobile,my spectacles,coins,ready cash, receipts of high value purchase etc. Then over the year, I have not done forensic audit of my drawers. Those papers are also not kept in any chronological order so over the year those two drawers look like waste paper basket. Whenever I look for any of my favorite things then I know where to look for. I go through the same motion of rummaging the whole content ,then discover that many of the papers or user manuals have become out dated but somehow I am not able to destroy those thinking that I may require those someday and thus more trash get added with new purchase.

I have been purchasing CDs of movies since the time CDs came, I am strapped with those CDs and CD players which I don’t operate now, Amazon Prime, Netflix, Hotstar etc are enabling me in  watching movies. Then when I look in my cupboard then those CDs stare at me.I have already thrown away hundreds of cassettes. By nature humans are hunter and gatherer so we keep on gathering thinking that someday we may use those but unfortunately the time does not give that chance.

I generally pull the shirt which I see first in the stack and wear that, in the process I keep wearing a limited set of shirts by rotation, then my wife will pull out stack of shirts from almirah which were kept beyond the reach of my vision and ask whether I am going to wear those or she will give those away. There also I noticed that somehow I have retained some shirts that are more than 10 years old. I do not have such problem with my trousers as my waist line takes the decision. So all those 34,36 etc are already given away and made way for 38.

I keep purchasing some 20 odd books a year and those have become a big issue for storing. Those books are occupying major space in my racks and almirahs in my drawing room. I have started giving away the books but very rarely, I find someone who reads books.

During my IOC days I won lots of cups and medals for badminton and football but those are not displayed in my drawing room, one fine morning my wife bundled those off to a kabadiwala thus the proof of my sportsmanship vanished from the eyesight, come to think of it I did not feel bad. Those days are past and no use being sentimental for those lifeless objects.
We have to appreciate that everything has expiry date and after that be it a receipt, manual or any gadget become obsolete but due to our attachment we tend to hold on to those.

Coming back to my those two drawers, I have  to seriously carryout a due diligence audit and tear those papers off and throw away those ear phones and other electronic items which have become obsolete.

I will keep only PAN,Adhar ,Voter ID ,passport and of course my bank books..........all other paper documents have become obsolete or invalid or useless... 
I am already advising my Google home to remember where i am keeping debit card,keys etc.....when asked it gives the location

Do i know you

Do I know you?

I was in a slumber, slowly opened my eyes, it was dark and my bed was cramped. I tried to move my hands sideways, could not do. There was a lingering headache. I thought that it must be a dream, so continued my sleep. But I was wrong as I was awake and I was in some kind of confined area. Is it a coffin, am I dead? These questions were racing through my mind. How did I come here? I tried to recollect the sequence of events, my mind was not working, and the headache was still there. I tentatively raised my hand to lift the lid of the coffin. To my surprise I found that it was unlatched. I slowly raised my self from the lying down position and came out of the coffin. I was in an antique shop, the lights were off inside, it was evening time. I could see the street light through the windows.

I sat down on a chair and tried to orient my self. My mind was getting cleared slowly.

The above piece of conversation was taking place in my drawing room with Nemai.It was evening time when I was having my regular cup of coffee then suddenly I found my friend Nemai barging in my house without ringing the calling bell. I was not surprised as that was his style, but this time he was looking haggard and appeared as though he had not slept the previous night. He plunked himself in one of the sofas and looked at me and said, “I am ruined.”

“You look run down, cool down, take a cup of coffee and let me hear the details,” saying this I brought a cup of coffee for him.

He started his narration from the time when he found himself in a coffin in an antique shop in Park Street.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning.Ok, you found yourself in a coffin but how did you go to that place from your office at Elgin Road?”

Nemai's patented style was giving the shocker first and then rest of the story. I was getting impatient but he was trapped in his old habit of building up the story.

“Ok; let me start from the beginning,” after a sip of coffee he said.

Nemai started his narration.

About three months back one day as usual I went to my office in Elgin Road. After settling down I logged to internet to see whether any e mail had come. There was an e mail from one A.K.Sinha.I opened that and found that it was from Ashok whom I knew at Barauni when I was with FCI.He had come to know about my starting the present business at Kolkata from one of our mutual friends. That letter made me nostalgic. In reply I wrote about so many incidences at Barauni which occurred with our friends at various occasions. I literary poured my heart out.Ashok in reply informed me that things were not same as it was at Barauni. Like that our e mail correspondence started.Ashok informed me that his son would be visiting me.

One day when I was in my office then I got a visitor from a certain company. He presented his card to me. His name was Bikash Sinha.He was a young man of about thirty, wearing thick rimmed glasses, French beard and longish hair. He introduced himself to be the son of Ashok.I knew that Ashok had only one son and I had seen him when he was in class ten. The visit of Bikash once again sparked my nostalgia. I found Bikash to be very polite and good natured. He requested me to introduce him with some prospective companies with whom he could establish business dealings. I obliged him by ringing up my friends in some of the companies located in Kolkata.After that day he was a regular visitor to my office. He would just drop in and we would talk for hours on various subjects under the sun. I found that he was fond of reading and he also liked reading John Grisham’s books like I did. I found that in many areas his interests converged with mine. I liked visiting book stores and he would accompany me. We would browse through various books and discuss about those books in the adjoining coffee shop.

One day he asked me whether I was interested in antiques. As a matter of fact I had never thought about that subject. He promised me that he would take me to some antique dealers and would show me precious artifacts which belonged to Sirajddaula period, Gaur period, Sen period etc.

In a week he would drop in to my office about two to three days. I started looking forward to his visit.

I was in my office yesterday when he came to my office.

“Kaku; let us go to the antique dealer he had got some fresh stock.”

I had nothing much to do in my office, it was about 11 o clock .I took my brief case and went with him to the antique shop at Park Street. There was an old fellow there who appeared to know Bikash very well.

He said, “Let us take some cold drink first then I will show you the antiques.”

We sat in front of his desk and cold drink was served in glasses. I took two to three sips then started feeling sleepy and after that I woke up in that coffin which was one of the antiques.

I found that my brief case was open but the cheque book was missing. My money bag with my ATM card was missing. I broke open the window and came out. I reported the matter to the police. The police accompanied me to the shop. We found the owner was gagged in his store room.

Today I went to my bank to report the theft of my cheque book and ATM card and found that most of my money had been withdrawn. The blasted fellow had used my ATM card first. I also like a fool kept the password number written on a paper along with the card. Through that transaction he could know the balance amount, and then he went to the bank and presented a self cheque and withdrew the major amount.

I stopped Nemai at this part of his story and asked him, “How could he know your signature?”

Nemai informed me that he had watched him signing the cheque and also Bikash had seen that he used the same signature for filling up Income Tax form. As a matter of fact Bikash volunteered to deposit the Income Tax form.

Next day we went to that antique shop in Park Street. The old fellow was badly shaken.

“How did you know that fellow Bikash? I asked.

“He had been visiting me since last three months. To me he appeared to be a nice knowledgeable Youngman. At this old age I too look forward for some one to talk. He would drop in twice or thrice every week. I will show him around and then discuss history. He helped me in computerizing my inventories. I never imagined that he would turn out to be such a swindler,” he said remorsefully.

We went back to Nemai's office and asked him to locate Ashok in Barauni.After one hour of telephoning he could locate him in Patna.Ashok took time to place Nemai and then was surprised about e mail. He informed Nemai that he had no idea about internet ,as a matter of fact he did not know how to use a computer, and also his son was in USA.

I asked Nemai,”How many people know about your Barauni connection?”

“Practically everyone in my office knows it. I have also talked about my Barauni friends with my office colleagues,” he said naively.

I had some techie friend in software companies. I gave a ring to one of my friends to find out the origin of the e mail which was coming from Ashok.He asked us to forward that e mail to him.

After a few hours my friend informed me that it was coming from computers in Calcutta, this he had found out by using the e mail address of Ashok and tracing it up to the root. I did not ask him to check any further as I could deduce the rest, that Bikash had been using numerous cyber cafes to send the e mail.

I reconstructed the whole event for Nemai.It was a classic case of phishing. This fellow Bikash had kept Nemai under surveillance; he had gathered all the information’s about Nemai from his office only. After gathering those information he started sending the e mails.Nemai being a simpleton fell for those e mails and poured his heart out, thus Bikash could get more dope on Nemai.Ultimately when he introduced himself then he was fully armed with information about Nemai.He knew that Nemai was fond of books, also he knew that John Grisham was Nemai's favourite author.Bikash had parallely developed friendship with the antique dealer. He allowed sometime to pass so that he could get closer to Nemai and gain his confidence.Nemai confided in him so much that he gave his Income Tax form to Bikash for submission. Now it was matter of choosing the right time for Bikash to make the kill. He had chosen the morning time when the antique shop was least visited and also he had rest of the day to carry on with his job of polishing off Nemai's bank account. He must have laced those cold drinks with some drug. Putting Nemai in the coffin was his way of dramatizing the end. Bikash must had been his assumed name and he was computer savvy, intelligent and knowledgeable to influence educated people.Bikash or what ever his name might be must have changed his appearance after that event and would be on the prowl for his next victim..

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.......

 

Zindagi ka safar

Zindagi ka safar

“Zindagi ka safar ye kaisa safar…..”

The Nepali crooner was belting out songs of Kishore Kumar one after another in the night club in hotel Qutub.

The audience was enjoying those old songs of Kishore and the crooner was encouraged to sing more and more. It was past 11pm, the management reminded that it was time to close. Rana got up and walked to the crooner shoved a handful of 100 rupee notes in the pocket of the singer and asked him to sing a few more. He not only gave money to the singer but to all the staff present around in that hall at that night.

Rana came back and resumed his drinking! I was impatient and wanted to leave, the situation spun out of my hand that night in 2004. It all started as evening out with Rana just after my retirement on that night. He drove from his house in Punjabi Bagh ,picked me up from Pashchim Vihar and headed for Hotel Qutub of ITDC .

He had been a regular in that hotel so we got warm welcome from the entrance to all the way to the watering hole with live crooner. It was past 8 pm, we were given a seat near the dais, a kind of preferential seat courtesy generous tipping by Rana. It was crowded, Rana ordered drink for both with some moghlai dish. He was a jolly good fellow but a heavy drinker, the evening slowly climbed towards late in the night on and the crowd started thinning out as closing time of 10.30 pm was approaching.

When the crooner was singing that song “Zindagi ka safar…” then we two were the only audience left. For me that experience was new, a drunk host with pocketful of money and obliged staff falling head over heel to serve as for every service there was 100 rupee note from Rana to them. I realized that it was not the only night when he overstayed, this was informed to me by the duty manager. Finally, I prevailed on him to leave, it was 11.30 by then. While walking out it was showering of money by Rana to all the staffs we confronted on the way out, sometimes he called out even the lift operators to give money.

Well folks that was Rana whom I came to know during my stay in Bhopal. He was supplying aluminum casting for tap changer to our factory. He was from IIT,Delhi but never joined any service but started this factory in Faridabad with only BHEL as his customer. Because of IIT connection he would often come to me and will share his business woes. His business design with one customer was flawed, I explained him that. Those days I had just finished reading the book “Who moved my Cheese” which talks about ever changing scenario of business. I told him if  because of some reason BHEL does not give him order or may be another competitor comes up offering lower price then what would he do? I gave that book to him to read and advised him to diversify his activities to other customers. He was highly influenced by that book. He planned to open another aluminum casting factory with modern automatic machines targeting the emerging motor bike market. He managed to rope in an expert on aluminum casting working in neighboring factory supplying to motor bike manufacturing companies. With the help of that expert he reached out to Hero Honda for supplying aluminum components for the motor bikes. He explained me modern motorcycles require their chassis to be stiffer, more lightweight and look better than what traditional steel tubes could offer. Modern motorcycles, thus, make use of materials such as aluminum and alloys to achieve the target.  By the time he was bringing up his new factory I retired in 2003 from BHEL,Bhopal and stayed for sometimes in our Delhi flat.

He took heavy loan from banks to build his new factory by collating his sprawling house of Punjabi Bagh. After my retirement I had visited his new factory which was semi-automatic with CCTV surveillance. That day in 2004 he was giving me party as his new factory had become operational.He would often say that he  considered me as his mentor because I opened his eyes through that book “Who moved my Cheese”. He was in heavy debt then so I think the heavy boozing was to drown all his financial woes. He asked me to be his advisor in running the business but I declined as I had planned to move to Calcutta.

After I moved to Calcutta often he would give ring to share his business results. Ultimately he paid off all his debts and started making handsome profit. The day he became debt free he rang me up to inform that finally he was free of financial worries, while talking to me he was slurring due to heavy drinking as he was cerebrating the occasion.

Unfortunately, the heavy drinking took his life a few years back, his safar of Zindagi came to an end.

Whenever I am in Delhi I often think about him, he used to visit me at Pashchim Vihar. This article is outcome of that nostalgia and dedicated to him.

Electron phas gaya

Electron phas gaya tha

…………………………………

The electronic equipment of modern age has its own mind. We feel the switch is in our hand forgetting that coming ón live is in the mood of the gadget. The behavior of mobile, phones, tablets cannot be taken for granted.  The other day I got a ring in my mobile when I tried to reach  then it stopped. It was known number so I gave a call to him, he said, “ Sorry I did not call, but something is wrong with my mobile it suddenly calls on its own and it is mostly the last number called.”

All of us who have mobile know that suddenly everything freezes, then it won’t switch off, so take out the battery and hey presto…it starts working normally as though giving us warning that ,” Don’t treat me lightly, I have my moods.”

In an army establishment it so happened that the wireless set was not working. It was those days when wireless is supposed to be ultimate in electronics. The army engineers were struggling to make that work. It won’t budge, no statics at all. A sardarji jawan who had handled this equipment in field was called. He fiddled with the knobs, no sir….it would not work. He got frustrated and gave it a kick….lo behold it started working. The jawan nonchalantly looked at all the bystanders who were awed by the miracle. They asked, “How did it work?” He replied,” It is nothing woh ek electron phas gaya tha, lath mara woh nikal gaya.” Saying that he walked off.

I think that electron theory still holds. I had written about my mobile getting conked off and then sending the same to Samsung service center for diagnosis. I was told it’s motherboard has damaged and I have to pay Rs.10,500 for replacement. I decided not to get it repaired instead go for a new one. Was doing some research for the brand, got advise from my son Anish and nephew Monish. Was about to go on line purchase but remembering “ the prophetic electron theory” so I hooked up the mobile for charging through my computer…..surprise of surprise….the indication came on for charging which was not coming since yesterday…allowed it to get charged up to 5% and made a few calls…all fine so far…so the electron theory still holds….all of us slap the remote a number of times when it does not work even after removing the cover and replacing the battery…yes you guessed it right it is the ubiquitous “electron” which choked the system so slap it…