A Hungry Wolf in Suit N Boots

“You have won the case against Department after four years of continuous fight in the High Court, your file is still pending in this office.” A bureaucrat taunted me while fiddling with his smart phone. He stopped playing with it, placed it on the table, and ironically said, “The work is neither done on the papers nor on the site. Then what is the use of wasting so much time, money and energy.”

His words deeply pierced me. I was hurt. Truth can be costly, but in the end it never falls short of value for the price paid. He was crossing his limits even though I could not say anything to upset him as my important business file was on his table.

That day, he kept me waiting for a long time because of a useless reason. He was interested in chatting with me about my life, goals, assets, family and more although I was only interested in moving my file from his table to the next level, to get my work done as quickly as possible although quickly word was out of fashion in Govt. Departments were everyone work as lazily as a snail.

While conversing with me, he came to know that I was single, rich and presently residing in Gururgram, a city that never sleeps and drinks red wine to quench its thirst. His hungry eyes moved down from my face and his flirting sentences became obscene. At work place, I always wore body-concealing dresses with full sleeves, high necks and loose fit. Nevertheless, he was a hungry wolf in suit and boots!  

I am not a sheep! I am a lioness. However, it was not the proper time and place to show my bravery prowess but to act like a fox carefully, smartly and tactfully. I could not slap him, scream or shout at him as half the staff members of the Department knew me. Any sort of expression of anger from my side would create a scene in the office and in return would spoil my reputation. I opted to stay calm in the ocean of chaos of emotions.

Moreover, I was surprised with his guts. The office in which we were sitting was situated in my ancestral city where my grandfather was one of the respectful person in the town, my father was known for his honesty and truthfulness and everyone in due respect called him a ‘Dakter’(doctor) in spite of calling him by his name. And I was known as ‘Dakter ki beti’ (daughter of a doctor), kind and simple to whom many so called well wishers gave ‘free ki advice’ to own a luxurious car instead of Innova.

Holding a file for no apparent reason, marking it to the wrong person, passing it from one table to another, not passing it through proper channel and putting a pointless objection verbally were common traits of government employees but this officer was different. He was keeping back my file just to have a gala time with me. He was a smoker. He was an alcoholic. He was flirtatious. And may be a womanizer!

He offered me to go out somewhere. I declined his offer, as I had to attend an important meeting whether it was a genuine reason or I just made an excuse to avoid him, I could not recall now. I had less than two hundred friends on Facebook and I did not make friends so easily nevertheless to buy time I asked him, “Let’s be friends on Facebook.”

“Friend zone!” He said and a cunning smile appeared on his not so ugly face.

After all a wily officer was to be handled carefully and smartly.

The whole evening I kept wondering how to put a stop on his advances. Who could put a pressure on him – a local leader, politician, friend, relative, neighbor, his senior or his wife? His raunchy talks kept bombarding my head like firing bullets making me uncomfortable and tensed. I could not sleep at night. I kept turning from one side to another. I was damn tensed. At midnight when I could not bear the heaviness in my head, I decided to login my social media accounts. I kept clicking this or that button. I surfed and searched. Many times, I went through my friends list on Facebook if by chance I missed out somebody’s name that could help me. When I saw hungry wolf’s name in my friend’s list, I clicked to see his profile. I further check his friends list may be somebody I knew.

I was surprised to notice a young guy was a mutual friend of hungry wolf and my cousin. Without wasting a second, I emailed my cousin to inquire about that young guy. He replied that the young guy was his langotiya yaar, his childhood friend as well as college buddy. Hungry wolf and his langotiya yaar were from the same college and now in the same Department but in different cities.

Ghode ki dhai chaal! (a unique and very tricky move of knight who can move two and a half steps and can jump over any other piece(s) in chess.) I played chess on the board of life.

One year later, I emailed my cousin.

Now a days, hungry wolf is in the jail as he has been caught red handed in a bribery case.

He replied

LOL

Pic : Unsplash

My Writing Journey - From Pencil to Keyboard

Would she slap me? 

With red ink, my English teacher drew a round circle around the word 'ther' on my class work notebook. She wrote 'i' in between letter 'e' and 'r'. This was my fourth mistake in the same line and ninth mistake on the same page. Agitatedly, my teacher corrected a few more grammatical and spelling mistakes. While circling the word 'cheld', her patience gave way to anger and she shouted, "You make so many spelling mistakes. Your English is very poor." Instead of saying, I would improve them, I smilingly said, "Actually ma'am, my mother tongue, Hindi is also weak." Amused with my sense of humor or my presence of mind, she wrote 'Good'. At that time, I was in third standard.

In my primary section, I wrote with pencil in my notebooks and with red pen, the teacher used to draw at least three big round circles in each line. In all most all the pages, the red color was more prominent over the dim black shade. In my middle class, my genius mother tried hard with love and compassion through simple methods to teach me tenses when she found that I was not able to learn them in school but unfortunately, she could only teach me eight tenses. Tenses used to give me tension! In my higher standard, my language teacher always coaxed me to write more sentences in essay and all the time encouraged me to describe the topic in detail. As my mind would become blank like a dry river or ideas would not flow from it like a frozen river however, with great difficulty, I could write an essay having just two-three small paragraphs.

After I completed my college education, a dense cloud of tension enveloped me and to escape from the world of reality I immersed myself in the world of fiction. I decided to read books- one book per day. ‘Read, Read and read’ became my mantra and I read anything and everything including mythology, spirituality, astrology, Vastushastra, business, historical fiction, romance, drama, thriller, classics, Hindi Literature and just anything that I could grab. I read thousands and thousands of books on various subjects including English Literature.

In 2009, I was in an emotional turmoil because of my bottled emotions. To vent them out, I started a blog with a tag line ‘When I can’t speak, I write...’. The tears that never flowed out of my eyes became my words. Anais Nin said, “The role of a writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say.”

On a keyboard, I started writing random ideas that pop up into my head because water only flows when faucet is turned on. Many known people made fun of me because of my amalgamation of past and present tense in the same sentence, improper use of commas, not able to properly express the subject matter. I was too bad in basics what to say about the advance writing skills. I decided to keep moving ignoring every comment on my writing. “I can shake off everything as I write; my sorrows disappear, my courage is reborn.” ― Anne Frank

Seeing me struggling hard to improve my writing skills, my brother who had a excellent command over the language advised me some good points on creative writing. It should have a beginning, middle and an end. The opening should be like Dan Brown’s novel ‘Da Vinci code’ in which the readers were in awe and were eager to know what would happen next, the middle should be like Chetan Bhagat’s ‘Five Point Someone’ novel where readers could connect themselves with the happenings as well as surroundings and the ending should be like Arundhati Roy’s ‘The God of Small Things’ in which readers could not predict the end, a totally unexpected end or a lesson that left a lasting impression on reader’s mind as in Eric Segal’s ‘Doctors’ which was concluded as ‘Science cannot comprehend a miracle’. Make a blueprint and then erect a building on it! However, the epic ‘The Ramayana’ was popular since ages because at 75% stage of the book, the protagonist Shri Rama lost all hope, he was tired, his wife was abducted, his younger brother was unconscious after a severe injury from a deadly weapon, and he was almost on the verge of losing the battle of life. There was no hope of his revival. The hero of the story hit the rock bottom. Hanuman ji brought sanjivani booti (magical herb used as medicine) for his brother and gradually, the protagonist was back to fight again with more valor and courage. This script structure was followed in all Hollywood Superman and Spiderman movies. Along with him, my maternal grandfather who was a retired English teacher also motivated me to write continuously for betterment, in my own unique style without copying any celebrity author.

Several years passed when one day...

“When bhai (brother) has edited it then why are you showing it to me?” My mother said to me after reading the first line of the post.

“Bhai hasn’t read it. He is busy.” I replied.

“You have written it!” She said with a surprise. “And bhai has not edited it.” Now surprise was more in her voice.

I nodded.

“You can’t write such a beautiful and elegant line.”

I tried to convince her that it was written by me, no one had read it, and she was the first reader.

She read the second line and found a silly mistake, which convinced her that I had written it.

This major change came in my writings after I had gulped down almost all works of Somerset Maugham – short stories as well as novels.

For many years, my brother and my mother were my editors. Now, I edit my writings on my own.

Now, shout-outs, featured posts and competitions on os.me encourage me to write more and better. I am participating not to compete with anybody but with myself. If I could write better than my previous post then I am a winner! If the flow of ideas stop and I stop writing then I would be a loser!

After all, “A word after a word after a word is power.” as believed by Margaret Atwood

Pic : Pixabay

A Big Responsibility on Little Shoulders

“Do you need a guide?” A boy who looked like seven years old asked me.

I doubt your geographical and historical knowledge.

“What is your age?” I inquired.

“Thirteen years!”

His stunted physical growth astonished me. Neither he had proper nutritive diet to fill his little belly nor he had decent clothes to cover his undersized body like a professional guide. Although he would not be able to share something new with me as I have already visited many forts in the nearby area as well as I had a good knowledge of architect, Vastushastra principals and vegetation. Moreover, his accent was ambiguous and a face without a smile. A jhola chhap guide. To support him, I asked him to guide me through the narrow alleys of one of the most haunted forts of India- Bhangarh Fort.

As we strolled, he started narrating, “There used to be the bazaar on both the sides of the lane. The perfume bottle was purchased from the same bazaar by princess Ratnavati’s maidservant on which, the tantric did the black magic after she refused to marry him. Because Princess disliked him, she broke it as soon as she came to know about his plans. The tantric cursed the whole kingdom of Bhangarh before dying. It was deserted overnight.

“As you can see the chhatri (a shelter home/ small hut made up of stone) of the tantric who was in desperate love with the extremely beautiful princess.” He pointed at the far off place on the top of mountain.

As I have already read this on internet before visiting that fort, I was much interested in knowing about him rather than about the ruined building, which sang the songs of bygone, was now a desolate place inhabited by ghosts at night that nobody was allowed to stay inside this fort before sunrise and after sunset.

“Do you go to school?” I asked.

“Yes, today is Sunday. That’s why I am here to make some money?” He replied plainly.

“What did your father do?”

“All the time, he drinks tea.”

Further, he told me that he had a big family to support which includes his parents, four sisters and a younger brother and they reared five buffaloes however, they sold their milk to a nearby dairy to make their living.

Instead of him, I was telling him colorful tales, interesting folklore and mythological stories related to the deity, figure, animal or flower engraved on the on the walls of temples built in Nagara style in the compound of the fort. To break the all-pervasive spooky aura, I kept him engage in the sensational gossips on how to explain in detail to his prospective clients so that he could make some more money. Not only I taught him the art of clicking good photographs but also the skill to make boring places interesting with the magic of words.

After the trip, I paid him Rs. 200 as his fees, handed over my pair of gold earrings to him and asked him to present them to his elder sister at the time of her marriage. I was quite surprised to notice that no emotion appeared on his face, neither happiness nor gratitude but as he walked towards the main gate, I could sense that he had a big responsibility on his little shoulders.

Standing under a magnificent banyan tree close to the entrance of hauntingly beautiful fort, OSHO’s words rang in my ears, “Don’t think it as charity but share your things with others without expecting anything.”

Pic 1: Bhangarh Fort, Alwar district, Rajasthan

Pic 2 : Huge Banyana tree near Bhangarh Fort, Main Gate.

Guru Disciple Bond - The Purest of All Bonds

 In continuation of 'My First Spiritual Guru'

“A cyclone! Oh my God!” He stepped back a little as a scary thought arise in his mind.

On seeing so many scorpions hiding in freshly grown weeds adjacent to a water channel on a kachcha road, this thought surfaced his mind as he was about to step on them. This incidence happened when he was on his way to meet his Guru who was staying in his grapes orchid. On reaching there, his Guru inquired, “Kaushal, you got afraid of just tiny scorpions!”

“Ma, Om Swamiji has numerous siddhis. If somebody brought packed gift for Him, He already knew what was in it.” I was narrating incidents related to Om Swamiji to my mother.

“Kaushal chacha ji’s (my mother’s uncle and my maternal grandfather) Guru was also in possession of such siddhis.” She told me. “His Guru could very easily guess whether the steel tiffin box contain kheer or kadhi? Even steel was transparent for him!”

She continued further, “He used to serve his Guru with very much love and care. His Guru asked him to serve his mother like a Goddess and he obeyed his Guru’s command till she died.”

“Ma. Please tell me something more about his Guru.” I requested.

She narrated the scary scorpion incidence when his uncle got frightened on mere sight of a group of scorpions and surprisingly his Guru knew about it who was then a few kilometres away from that site. His Guru could easily sense about his slightest of emotion, how strong their Guru Disciple bond was, moreover, purest of all bonds.

“Like his Guru, my Guru who is kilometres and kilometres away from me also knows about each and every emotion arising in my heart.” I said.

Dear readers, I will love to gift ‘The Last Gambit’ authored by Om Swamiji to anybody who is interested in reading it. Please drop a mail to me at CHANDRIKASHUBHAMATGMAILDOTCOM.

Pic : Pexels

My First Spiritual Guru

It was a blessing but different!

My nanaji (my maternal grandfather) put his right hand on my head and murmured something, which was inaudible to me although I was standing in front of him just a foot away. I was looking straight in his eyes while my mind was wondering what he was blessing me with. I could not understand. I did not ask. He slowly turned around, strolled towards his room, which was adjacent to drawing room.

A few minutes earlier, my mother, my nanaji and I were standing in the drawing room. Ma, my mother was inquiring about his health as he has returned after a long hospitalization. He said that he was much better now and was able to perform his daily chores in a very slow motion.

My naniji (my maternal grandmother) called my mother. My mother went out of the drawing room towards the kitchen area. My nanaji and I were left alone in the room; he blessed me leaving me somewhat bewildered, as I could not interpret what it was.

Years later, after reading many books on Guru disciple bond and doing various Sadhanas I came to know that he imparted his spiritual wealth to me before leaving this body.

This happened in 1997. For years, I did not share it with anyone. A couple of days back I shared this incidence with my family and now I am sharing it with my blogging family.

To be continued...

Next part is 'Guru Disciple Bond'

My Reading List and Giveaway of My Favorite Book on Chole Bhature Day! :)

From mid-August 2021 to the end of October 2021 I was totally absorbed in studying scriptures, reading books, listening audio books and watching videos to collect and absorb maximum knowledge about spirituality. During that time, I was experiencing bouts of spiritual crying quite frequently. This was the time when I was not crying then I was reading a book, when I was not reading a book then I was listening to an audio book and when I was not listening an audio book then I was watching a YouTube video. I was as busy as a second hand in a clock. 

Read these books…

If Truth be Told – A Monk’s Memoir By Om Swami (Reread)

Om Swami – As We Know Him by Ismita Tandon (Sadhvi Vrinda Om) and Swami Vidyananda Om

A Prayer that Never Fails by Sadhvi Vrinda Om

The Book of Faith Compiled by Sadhvi Vrinda Om

Bhakti and Sankirtan by Swami Sivananda

Guru Bhakti Yoga by Swami Sivananda

Laksmi Tantram Commentary by Shri Kapildev Narayan (Reread)

Geet Govind by Jaidev

The Gospel of Shri Ramakrishna

Hatha Yoga Pradipika Commentary by Swami Muktibodhananda

Nav Durga from Geeta Press Publications

Listened these books on Audible...

Swami Vivekananda by Gautam Ghosh

Essence of the Upanishads by Eknath Easwaran

The Guru Drinks Bourbon? By Amira Ben-Yehuda, Dzongsar Jamyang Khyentse

Draupadi by Pratibha Rai

Tantra Illuminated : The Philosophy, History, and Practice of a Timeless Tradition by Christopher D. Walls

Attended these online courses...

The Art of Meditation by Om Swami

Kundalini Meditation by Om Swami

I watched numerous videos and out of them, my favorite video is by Gautam Sachdeva  Gorakhnath's Rule (with Hindi subtitles).

Yesterday was my birthday and I am giving away gifts to my lovely readers. Unfortunately, Amazon do not deliver chole bhature so I am giving away my favorite book. Out of all books that I have read in two and a half month time, I liked ‘Om Swami – As We Know Him’ the most. Whoever is interested in reading this book, please send your address to me at CHANDRIKASHUBHAMATGMAILDOTCOM. I will send a copy of this book through amazon.in (Indian addresses only) to you. Hope you will also enjoy this book as much as I. :)

Tears Washed off all Negativity from My Heart

“Gandi Aurat (wicked woman)!” I thought as I looked out of windowpane of my moving car. I saw a not so elderly woman sitting behind a young guy on a scooter. We were in opposite lanes. Was it she? Her chubby cheeks glowing like oranges now resembled more like squeezed oranges. I saw her after one and half year of corona time. It seemed to me that from glowing beauty now she was a mere wrinkled diseased woman. Time changed everything. I had changed too. Like every other time, I did not feel any surge of negative emotions in me on a glimpse of her. There was neither hatred nor anger for her. I was neutral as I was feeling Swamiji dwells in all. This happened in mid Oct, 2021.

I moved out of my house locking all my emotions behind to meet an important client who was adamant to see me in person before finalizing the deal. During those days, I was confined to my house because of excessive spiritual crying. In a way, while going to my office this incidence took place.

Nobody utters her name out of her scare or her wickedness, everybody called her ‘Gandi Aurat’. She was notorious for tearing her own clothes and charging rape case against who ever tried to stop her from doing any wrong deeds. She had done this against a police officer, a politician and a reputed educationist. She misused the laws, which were made to protect a female, as poisonous weapons to injure others.  

Six years back, she tried to grab my property, I stopped her. As she could not play rape card against me, she played caste card against me, which resulted in numerous court cases. Although court cases were part of my business, but this became a real headache for me. No bureaucrat, no politician, no local leader, no neighbor, no known, not even a stranger was with me. I was all alone fighting for truth. When loneliness pierced me heavily, I could feel the presence of my deity holding my hand who now and then whispered in my ears, ‘Truth Prevails!’  

Tears washed off all the negativity from my heart. Excessive spiritual crying made me calm and serene. It could be a sheer coincidence. There was one more woman in my life on seeing her, my heart always filled with hatred and anger. A few days back, I met her, I was normal though she said something out of jealousy, but I was as calm as a full moon. After all, Swamiji dwells in all. There was no surge of negative emotions in me for her. He had filled my heart with His love that there was no space left for hatred, envy or any other negative emotion.

I desperately needed a shot of His love so that my heart starts overflowing with love towards all beings especially for those whom I hated earlier.

Dear readers, I will love to gift ‘Japa Meditation- The Easiest Way to Calm the Mind’ authored by me to anybody who is interested in reading it. Please drop a mail to me at CHANDRIKASHUBHAMATGMAILDOTCOM.

Pic : Pixabay