Monday, November 14, 2022

My first meeting with Om Swamiji

 


“What is in breakfast? Maggi?” A young girl asked me while I was putting my belongings in my bag after returning from outside.

Maggi!?Maggi in Ashram? Simple meals like khichadi, dal bhaat (rice), ghiya ki sabji (bottle gourd veg) roti were served in ashram. This was definitely a unique ashram, which satisfied their young devotees’ taste buds with noddles!

“Sorry, I do not know. I did not go in the dining hall for breakfast. I went out to do some charity work.” I clarified.

“Why are you reading Tinkle?” A middle-aged woman inquired when she saw me reading a comic book.

Because it did not contain any prohibited content for adults! “I enjoy reading it.” I replied and immersed myself deeper in my book to avoid such useless conversation.

“How can you come all alone so far to the ashram?” An elderly woman with black dyed hair asked. She asked many personal questions, which I found difficult to answer or was not interested to share with a stranger. Moreover, the environment in the hall was as if there was a wedding reception of some distant relative because everyone was busy in chitchatting and making contacts rather than maintaining silence, calmness and serenity in the ashram. Feeling uncomfortable, I went out in the nature to enjoy my own company.

I spent almost whole day chanting mantras, meditating and relishing serenity by the riverside. Simultaneously, I was enjoying the coolness of water on my feet and the warmth of sun on my face. Soothing breeze bringing fragrance of nearby blooming shrubs, murmuring water between different sized and shaped rocks, bright orange ball playing peek-a-boo amidst clouds was all what I needed. I minutely observed fast moving lizards in or on water, insects vibrating on salsa beats near algae bloom, a crested kingfisher taking a steep dip in river to catch baby fish, an eagle on a huge tree and then flying somewhere in the far-off mountains, a pair of bulbuls singing the glory of nature.

Before sunset, I came back to the ashram hall. A teenager person announced my name and asked me to reach near the bookshop after 20 minutes. He showed the exact location as it was visible from the hall. As the time was less, I hurriedly get ready for Diwali celebrations, reached there before time, and bought a book ‘The Ancient Science of Mantras’ authored by Om Swamiji.

As Swamiji was signing the book, I told him my name. (And you all can see He gave His blessings with my name written on it!) In hurry to meet him, I forgot to ask any cooperative hall member what one had to do in this meeting. I never had any personal meeting with any saint before. From my previous experience of living in an ashram, I knew that the saints liked to answer questions and loved to answer difficult questions. I was not sure whether in this meeting I could ask.

“Can I ask a question?” I asked Him in a confused tone while He was signing with a luxurious pen.

“Yes, only one that is most important!” He replied softly.

My mind was full of spiritual questions. Now, I had to pick one cautiously, of which I could not find the answer anywhere on net or in books. I framed a question regarding the doubt that I had about my spiritual journey. I wished that haze would get clear and I would be able to see the path clearly.

After discourse, when He sang the aarti, my eyes became moist.

I totally ignored it, as it must be an effect of some chemical incense because woman like me did not cry.

Back home, while watching His one of the YouTube videos my eyes again turned moist. Then, my mind accepted it as a spiritual experience.

I practiced the point told by Him and found it beneficial. It accelerated my spiritual progress. Months later, I realized that it was a super special Diwali of my life as Swamiji removed the darkness of ignorance by lighting up a diya of knowledge in me. Now, the responsibility was on my shoulders to protect it from the negative gust of thoughts as well as by adding the oil of positivity, compassion and kindness to it so that it remained illuminating for forever.

You all must have heard this ‘Tubelight to thode der mein jalti hai!’(Tubelight lights after some time!) ;)

Thursday, November 10, 2022

My First Visit to Shri Badrika Ashram


 In 2018, Diwali was falling in mid-week. Therefore, in the next week offices would be closed, employees would be on leaves and friends would be busy with their families, I could have a long week for myself. To escape from air and noise pollution of Delhi NCR, I decided to spend some time in the serene lap of Himalayas. On my yogi friend’s recommendation about Tushita Meditation Center in McLeod Ganj, I clicked the buttons of my laptop to book a seat. I was surprised to find that it was full. Oh, no! I missed the golden chance to meet Dalai Lama!

Where should I go? I kept searching net for good ashrams in Himalayas assuming that Shri Badrika Ashram required at least three months prior planning and was always full. After wasting half an hour or so, I decided to check the website once, as I needed only one seat. Voila! It showed seats available as Open Ashram Event was going on. Without any further delay, I booked my seat for four days. Now, I had a platinum chance to meet Om Swamiji!

Whenever I had to travel alone, I did a lot of research, which included reading website of that destination, reviews of various persons and guides, alternative routes and then selecting the best route. I booked my train ticket from Delhi to Kalka. From there, I would take a bus to Solan, from Solan another local bus to Mariog and from Mariog I booked a taxi to riverside of the ashram. I was super excited to cross Giri River by walking. I did not explore further, as I had already visited Nauni (15 kilometers away from Shri Badrika Ashram) twice with my family before.

On Tuesday early morning, the driver dropped me to HUDA metro station of Gurugram. As planned, I took the metro reached New Delhi railway station and from there to Kalka. On getting down from train, I saw foreigners going in opposite direction of the main gate. I inquired a local vendor. He informed me about Himalayan Queen, which was ready to leave for Shimla and foreigner’s craze for toy train. I strolled a few steps with the crowd of foreigners, saw T.T. standing there. I asked him, “Is there any seat available?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Solan.”

“Go to the ticket counter, get a passenger ticket. A.C. seats are all booked. Only some seats in the last compartment are empty. Hurry up!”

I did as instruct.

After 2-3 long hours, the train stopped at a station. I looked outside the windows on both side but could not see a board. One of the passengers who was standing and could not manage to get the seat shouted, “We reached Solan!”

My eyes again searched for any display board with the name of the station printed on it, but I could not find any. The town looked quite big somewhat like Solan, I decided to get down with my luggage and bag. It seemed that the train had halted at outer. I was feeling guilty of not doing any research on this train route. I was confused. I slowly started moving toward the station. From my back, I heard someone, “Madam, where do you want to go?”

I turned around and found T.T. in black coat pant standing close to the door of the train and looking towards me. He repeated his question, this time a bit loudly.

“Solan.” I replied.

“This is Dharmpur. Get back.”

As I strolled towards the train, I realized he was not a wheatish complexioned man in uniform but a dark blue male wearing golden yellow dhoti, garlands around neck and a beautiful mukat on head. He was smiling nonstop for stopping me going in the wrong direction as usual.

As I climbed the stairs, I was surprised to find a danav with two huge horns on his head, munching peanuts and enjoying Bollywood song ‘Chikani Chamali’ occupying my seat who had earlier screamed, “We reached Solan!”

Monday, November 7, 2022

Give Up One Thing – Om Swamiji

 As in Zoom Satsang held on 6.6.2021 Swamiji asked us to give up one thing and only one thing neither two nor three. It could be sugar, tea, coffee, alcohol or any other bad habit or addiction, which we constantly thought about all the time and found it hard to get rid of.

After watching this live telecast, I got confused what should I give up.

I contemplated on the first option - sugar; I hardly ate one-teaspoon sugar per fortnightly. The sweets I prepared are mostly without any sugar and are mainly jaggery, honey, dates or raisins based. I do not add sugar in milk, mango shake or any other smoothie. It was not a thing that consumed on regular basis.

I moved to the next option tea, coffee and alcohol. I drank neither tea nor coffee. Moreover, I am teetotaler.  

I consumed good amount of processed foods like biscuits, namkeen, rusk, khakhada, bread, buns, paav etc but during my Sadhana, I completely abstained from eating any processed food as it might contain some onion or garlic flavor or anything that should not be consumed during Sadhana furthermore I preferred to eat simple home cooked food without onion and garlic.

Occasionally, I ate chole bhature and I could give it up for some time. However, it would be of no use as nearby Haldiram outlet was closed in lockdown. Samoosas, golgappas, pakoodas and bedmipuri all fell in the same category.

When I could not find anything much to change in my food habits so I tried searching other emotional and mental practices, which needed some change. I loved watching movies and had watched many movies from Bollywood, Tollywood and Hollywood. I could even watch movie in any foreign language without dubbing or subtitles in English or Hindi, the two languages that I understood well. From past near about seven or eight months I had not watched any movie as I was busy doing Sadhanas as suggested by Swamiji. Therefore, it was also not a correct option to give up.

I did not have Netflix, Amazon prime or Cable subscription because I did not own a T.V. but I had huge bookshelves for keeping my books on different subjects. As I had stated earlier that I loved to watch cartoons but after following Swamiji’s instructions in ‘Attainment of Siddhis Part -3’, I stopped watching cartoons or news while having my meals. Now, I only watched cartoons occasionally, mostly when I was not feeling well or feeling a bit low. With mostly grey hair on my head, if I said I gave up watching cartoons it would sound more like a joke than a serious task for a spiritual seeker.  

I could give up lies but I was already practicing it from quite some time.

What should I give up?

Most of the time my mind is engaged in planning or preparation of the future. Slowly and gradually, it shifts from positive planning to negative thinking and then I find myself caught in negative thoughts, feelings and emotions worrying about the future that do not exist and that events or situations will never happen in the future. May be I overthink! As Swamiji has said in ‘A Million Thoughts’, “No imagination: Don’t imagine what may happen in the future.” I am giving up negative thoughts and nonconstructive imagination related to future.

I will welcome the future with my open heart as MA’s blessings! :)

Dear readers, so what are you giving up?

Monday, October 10, 2022

Lord Ram Tantra Sadhana in Sadhana App

 

Aha! Any moment Lord Ram will be physically present in my life to bless me with His Divine Presence.

Now, doing sadhana is a kid’s play with the help of Sadhana App. Numerous complicated steps of sadhana are just a click away with arduous Sanskrit mantra chants and detailed description. Moreover, the app does not allow you to even forget a single step out of all those grueling steps mandatory for doing a sadhana.

Although I had done many sadhanas before the launch of Sadhana App following the traditional method by flipping the pages of the book ‘The Ancient Science of Mantras’. Because of the use of water in the traditional method, my book pages had curled and wrinkled. There was discoloration of pages from white to yellow to pale yellow and to brown. By looking at my book it seemed as if I was doing sadhanas from eons. :)

Just for the sake of fun and to learn a new thing I tried Ram Tantra Sadhana on Sadhana App. It is the sadhana of mantra ‘Hum Jankivalabhaye Swaha’ in which ‘Hum’ is Lord Shiva, the dispeller of sorrow which destroy one’s lower nature and make way for positive growth, ‘Jankivalabhaye’ is Lord Ram, the consort of Janaki (Ma Sita) as well as the giver of happiness and peace and ‘Swaha’ is Shakti (Ma Paravati), the divine energy. With one mantra, I worshipped three deities. :) I imbibed new mantras like Ram Gayatri mantra. I learned new mudras like avahana, sthapana, sannidhana, sannirodhan sambodhana, sammukhikaran, avagunthana and amaratikaran. I enjoyed doing it so much that till now I have repeated this sadhana six times. You can login to Sadhana App and check my name on the leaderboard under the heading ‘Sadhana’. By mistake my name appeared on the top of the list. :)

While doing my last sadhana, I cried almost every day while chanting, worshipping or doing yagna. Mostly while offering flowers and garland to my Bhagwan, I cried hard. The tears of divine love flowing from my eyes purified my heart and mind. The divine love overflowed in such a large amount from my eyes that now I have to wear spectacles to clearly see my deity. ;)

Many times, during the sadhana when my mind was focused, I felt the energy of Lord Ram in the room. My visualization of Lord Ram improved because of repeated sadhanas in Sadhana App, and I could very easily feel His presence in my room. Now, I have to work hard, really hard so that the divine energy manifests in physical form and I could touch my deity’s Divine Feet.

Dear readers, after reading this post, if you want to do Ram Tantra Sadhana then do not forget to take a dip in the pond before entering the temple. ;)

Pic : Ram Temple in Sadhana App

Friday, January 28, 2022

Little actions make a big difference

 


“Madam, Wait! Wait!” A security guard said loudly.

I turned around and saw him almost running towards me. Just a few minutes before I gave him a tip while coming out of the restaurant.

“Madam, by mistake you gave me 500 rupee note.” He said hesitantly.

He must have noticed that I was busy chatting with my mother and without looking at my wallet I took out a note from it and handed 500 rupees to him. Although I was full occupied talking with my mother about some business problem, even then I was sure that I was taking out the correct denomination note for him.

He opened the note, showed it to me and softly said again, “Madam, it is 500 rupee note.”

“Today is my b’day! Please keep it.” I said and pondered that nobody had ever given him Rs. 500 as tip. Strange!

 

At that very moment, I realised why Om Swamiji emphasised so much on giving tips generously to waiters, security guards and other staff members of hotels and restaurants.

 

Pic : In the evening, a kid wished me ‘Happy b’day with this handmade card- a priceless gift! :)

Wednesday, August 18, 2021

3D photocopy

 

A faded pale-blue washing machine was first thing he noticed as he opened the door of his not so small store. It was not in use from past couple of years and was placed close to the door. He came there to create something useful out of the clutter of unused things and to spend his afternoon lazily or somewhat productively. Ahmed viewed the dusty, dingy and gloomy area which had the cluster of items. A wooden bed with a broken leg was standing near the wall, on its one leg a dented bucket and a mouse trap were hanging. Three lamps of different sizes, non functional table fan, his child’s tricycle as he has out grown that age, a medium sized drum which has a hole on its side were lying on the floor. A huge wooden box handed over by her granny as an ancestral furniture was lying in dusts as his wife considered it ‘An old fashioned item’, two card board boxes one above the other were hoarded on it blocked his view to the rest of the room. He took small steps removing cobwebs, moved in between all those precious junk which they have accumulated over the years. He saw an old monitor piled on the CPU, keyboard was slanted on the monitor, a small stool of no use was put upside down on the monitor, a radio whose knob was missing was set in between the rods intersecting its legs, a small metallic container out of which scratched CD and tapes were peeping were positioned on the radio by a skilled person. On the top of pile of old magazines and a few books with two fuse bulbs were set on the radio. He was amazed as well as amused whether all these items could be stalked again in the same manner if removed. His thoughts were distracted by the flattering of a bird on the window. The broken window pane allowed the free movement to the new tenants.

 

Although he took a few small steps back even then the bird screeched and flew away. Two tiny black spotted balls in the shelf seemed to be the giant obstacles in his plan to create the best out of waste by constructing a rotating fire pit out of the perforated tub of unused washing machine. He planned to give it to his eleven years old beloved wife on the Valentine Day because he didn’t have enough money to buy a pleasant gift from town market. Monetary predicament gave way to creativity! He took out a screw driver from his jeans hip pocket and unscrewed the bolts on all of its sides very slowly without disturbing the unborns. While he slowly lifted the plastic body of the washing machine leaving the tub behind, one of the eggs from the nest slipped into the tub. He removed the cover, stalked it on the cardboard box as it was the only place vacant in the store, took out that egg and placed it back on the not so well knitted twigs. Removing the agitator he noticed one more egg in the tub of the same size, same color and same shape. He put that also back thinking he might have not noticed the falling of the other. To his utmost surprise there was one more egg, a replica! He had to stop placing eggs in the nest as it couldn’t hold more or the bird couldn’t rear more or both. His surprise transformed into confusion as he started filling the dented bucket with spotted eggs.

 

The perforation of tub converted air energy around to produce a 3D photocopy, an identical copy of object that touched the embossed penny sized bottom. As soon as the object was taken out it produced the replica by changing kinetic energy of air into potential energy of the object by creating thin layers which are joined together to get desired shape and size. The negative charge is generated in the tub which broke inert nitrogen gas molecules of the air to combust hydrogen gas and then rapidly combine with carbon dioxide to form a new compound nitrochyoxide which had a unique property to give the same physical properties like texture, color, shape etc. of the object removed from tub and its by-product nicra that sounds more like a name of cute girl than a chemical compound was utilized to give the desired chemical properties of the object from protein to choline. Not only the outer appearance like color, texture, size, shape but also the inner composition like albumen and egg yolk with each and every minute detail of original work was replicated in 3D photocopying with a light speed hence the  human eyes couldn’t grasp duplicating process.

 

Unaware of all these chemical reactions happening in the tub but fully aware of his financial problems which were raising their heads like a cobra after he lost his job in recession time as Senior Marketing Head in Kore Moto Corp., a leading company in Auto Sector. All his savings drained out slowly and gradually and he had to take loan to meet his family daily requirements. He was clenched in the strong jaws of not the poverty actually rather credit system of banks offering lucrative offers before taking loan thereafter forcing to pay high interest rates on loans which were almost impossible. In despair of non loan repayment he was disheartened. He came into present when he found there was no space left to place egg in the store. Everywhere in the store on the wooden box, in the huge drum, on the upside down stool, in between the radio knobs, on the pile of magazines and on the space between two bulbs and even on his child’s tricycle seat he had placed the tiny eggs. His head spin on the thought of standing in a huge nest filled with hundreds and hundreds of eggs. He was physically as well as mentally tired. He took a handful of them, walked in the open towards the kitchen, crossing not so big compound of his house. He asked half sadly half confusedly to his wife Nargis to roast them or to toast them.

 

Although he had a bath in the morning, however to remove dirt and grime that had accumulated on him during his new expedition in the store, he went into the bathroom. Till he cleaned himself, his obedient wife prepared the delicacy. She plated the unshelled boiled eggs on the lettuce leaves, garnished them with a small sized broccoli floret in the centre and finely cut zigzag edged tomato, looking more like a flower on the sides, above it she sprinkled some grinded black pepper and a mixture of canola oil and lemon juice on it to satisfy his eyes as well as his tongue. A good meal to calm appetite along with tensions!

 

“Beautiful n Delicious!” Ahmed praised her after eating a bite that was too small for his mouth and a smile appeared on Nargis’s face. 

“Like me!” She winked a little to make his man happy.

“No. Not at all.”

“Eh!”

“More than you!” This time he winked. Both of them burst into laughter.

No sooner than did he finish all the nutritive islands with trees and flowers on his plate than an idea hit his mind to sell this delicious dish in the Saturday Night Market. There was only six hours left to start. He gave necessary commands to his wife to prepare more salad, boil one bucket of eggs and he went out to make the necessary arrangements for selling the product in the busiest market of the town.   

 

In less than half an hour from commencing Ahmed’s whole lot was sold out. He rushed back to home, collected more eggs, asked his wife to cook more and to prepare more salad as quickly as possible. He returned to the selling point with the freshly prepared food to earn some more marginal profit from ‘Colorful Islands’ on plate. The couple worked enthusiastically, repeating the process to make their newly invented dish a ‘HIT’. While counting money he felt the utmost fatigue gripping him that have accumulated over the constant working hours i.e. gathering eggs, selling them, collecting money and overall organisation and winding up on closing of the market. Satisfied he placed them in the built in safe, returning towards bed he looked at his wife in red sheer nighty that was sleeping on the other side. Her loose curly hair were falling on her face which was glowing like a full moon behind thin layers of scattered clouds even after all those physical weariness. Her face was as fresh, pure and white as EGG! At this very moment he realised that his tiredness had crossed all boundaries, now he must take rest. He was about to close his eyes then he recalled that today was Valentine Day, needed something special like every year for his wife; this year to construct a rotating fire pit idea had to be dropped in order to obtain 3D photocopy of eggs and the money making thereafter. His mind was so much occupied during the whole day that he forgot what he should not forgot. Now, when he had ample of money to buy gifts for his beloved, he was left with no strength to go to market to purchase some chocolates of her favourite brand or a decent dress for her or just a fire red rose. He came closer to her, removed a curly strand of hair from her forehead and planted a kiss assuring himself that he would buy a decent present for her tomorrow morning.

“Only one!” His wife’s passionate voice astonished him.

“I will buy more gifts for you.” He said which surprised her wife.

“O, you are such a lovable darling!” She locked him in her soft arms and whispered “Actually, I said only one kiss!”

He shocked, she rocked!

 

Soon, the olden golden washing machine evaporated the financial crisis in his life like the camphor exposed to air. By selling the best quality eggs at the cheapest price; in the town, he became famous as ‘Egg Guy’. He repaid his loans and constructed one study room for his son. One sunny afternoon, while cleaning the tub, the soap slipped from his hands as he lifted the egg to clean that emboss point. Soap hit 3D conversion switch. What a coincidence! To his little surprise, now soap cakes were produced in spite of eggs. On the sufficient production of soap cakes required for the whole year even if they used them liberally. Now the town better knew him as ‘Soap Guy’!

 

Soon he was bored of soap business, a saturation point came when he couldn’t make more money whereas he yearned for more and more. To find out the technique to produce the 3D photocopy of the desired object, he passed the egg on the same path on which it had fallen some days back, followed by soap which fell from his hands accidently. He repeated it uncountable times till he got the correct time calculation between the removing and placing of the object in order to change the previous object with a new one to be photocopied. Doing this for long hours, bending at stretch into the washing machine without any break caused severe pain in his lower back although it was forgotten or rather washed away in the wave of happiness of his new discovery.

 

Earlier in the town he became popular as ‘Egg Guy’ and now he was better known as ‘Soap Guy’. Whenever he was fed up with the business or faced some problem that couldn’t be overcome or noticed a decline in sales, he started a new business by changing the object which resulted in his changed status as ‘Pen Guy’, ‘Chocolate Guy’, ‘Ball Guy’, ‘Tomato Guy’, ‘Spoon Guy’, ‘Lady Finger Guy’, ‘Lipstick Guy’, ‘Bread Guy’, ‘CFL bulb Guy’, ‘Mouse trap Guy’ and so on…….

 

Although he was making good profits but his greed intensified for more and a little more. Prolonged bending and sitting resulted in dull back aches which he ignored like the dust on the computer screen. His fatigued body needed more rest than what he was actually taking. To make more money might be more than what he required to live a happy life; he yearned to start a business with good profit like selling petrol or wine or something that can fetch really good returns to him. Moreover he was tired of all these businesses with marginal profits. He repeated the same trick with that of egg to produce the replica of petrol, but totally failed. Other liquids like diesel, kerosene oil, milk, fruit juices, soft drinks and even different branded wines he experimented to get the desired outcome but he couldn’t get desired results. 3D photocopying could be done to only solids and not to liquids as in liquids, the molecules had greater freedom of movement and lack the binding force like that of solids which resulted in structural rigidity and resistance to change in volume and shape. These two major essentials for getting a 3D photocopy were missing in liquids.

 

Several years passed even then his daily routine was the same, bending into the tub to collect 3D photocopied objects.  One summery afternoon, he stooped a bit more to pick the object, all of a sudden, he felt piercing pain in his back. He shuddered. A few coins slipped out of his shirt pocket which was bulging due to his profit making. The back pain was so severe that he paid no attention to the chinking of coins. He sat down on the floor of store which was not cleaned since couple of years. ‘Dirt keeps thieves away’ was his motto. Every time his wife wished to clean it, he stopped her by making this or that excuse. The ache was unbearable even then he couldn’t call anybody for help else his richly secret might leaked out. And then thieves or robbers might loot his washing machine which was otherwise worth throwing in the dustbin. To relieve pain he lightly pressed his left palm on his back. With age his eyesight became poor, he glanced the area with blurred vision. He found that instead of getting rid of any item from the store, there were two more additions after his discovery of 3D photocopying - one was used tyre of his son’s bike and other was his busted football. Smartly rather very smartly, he buried his new discovery of 3D photocopy washing machine in one of the silent corners of his heart and didn’t reveal it even to his life partner. He could have become famous overnight with his photo on the cover page of all the leading magazines and newspapers. All the main channels showing exclusive coverage at prime time about him and his washing machine but, surprisingly this was not in his top most fifty desires. His wish was to make more wealth from it and become the richest person of the world. Then if the whole world came to know, he would be delighted.

 

Moving his left arm, using the full sleeve of shirt, he wiped the sweat drops on his forehead. He could easily afford air conditioners in this dingy dainty store and could work comfortably in hot climate without perspiring. A fan, a table fan at least he could have here. But no he was miser as well as smarter to keep everyone far off. He made a little space by moving the junk aside, lied down and closed his eyes because of pain or fatigue or both. In less than a minute he was fast asleep. 

 

When he woke up, he felt that pain radiated towards his right arm. Instead of taking proper medication and rest, he returned to his work. He bent down to pick the objects which have fallen accidentally from his pocket. Using his left arm he searched for the coins. Taking out more coins than that which had fallen in, elated not only his mind but soul as well. His body shuddered with a burst of perspiration around his arms, upper lips and groin. He paid no attention to the freshly increased salty wetness on his body. Although a bit irritated he was though in the ecstasy of joy for the production of coins from his magic machine he forget the increasing pain. He realised that he was a big fool who was wasting his time and energy on trying making 3D replica of liquids instead of trying on coins. He kept collecting the coins till all the boxes and utensils were filled. 

 

Late night, when he was entered the bedroom; his wife complained “Today is Valentine Day. You didn’t give me any special gift, not even a rose! Earlier you used to celebrate whole day with me; watching movie, dinning out, shopping and what a wife can desire of…..Sweet Nights!!” 

“At that time I was not that busy now I am!”

“If you were so busy then at least you could have pluck a crimson bottle brush flower from our garden which is in full bloom these days and wished me.” She taunted.

“I am hell tired.” He felt the intense pain arising in the shoulders while lying on the bed. “If you like the flower so much then why don’t you go and pluck one for yourself?”

He retorted, hiding his aches which would only add fuel to the fire.

“I am talking about your time, your attention. In the past month you haven’t attended any social function or late night party or watched good movie neither on TV nor cinema hall or gone to amusement park for fun.

“I was busy.” He didn’t have the strength to fight with his tigress.

“Busy in what? Getting older fast! Huh??  She pointed at grey hair in his head, stooping back and sullen eyes with dark circles under them.

“In making profits.” He said opening his eyes forcefully fighting with pain or sleep or both.

“What will you do with it?”

“I do not want it for myself. I am earning it for you and my son, Rushwan.”

“We have repaid the loan, constructed a decent house and saved sufficient money for the future. I have wardrobes full of clothes and jewellery.” She turned around and opened her wardrobe to show him and a blue colored top slipped from the above shelves on her. She caught it. The falling of that piece disturbed the alignment and all the stacked tops in front row fall on the ground. “My wardrobe is over flowing with clothes. It can’t hold anymore. Moreover if you don’t have time to look at me then what is the use of wearing all these clothes and jewellery? For me your time, your company, your one glimpse is more important than all these materialistic things.” She gathered them from the floor and folded them.

She closed the cupboard, turned around and found him asleep. She sighed.

 

Collecting coins made him richer as well as greedier. He replaced the coin with the highest denomination currency note available. Constant bending to pick the objects from tub without doing any regular exercise caused a little bend in his back and his speed of doing work slowed down. He had to bend a lot to take out something from the tub and he worked at a snail's pace still could make more than enough money from that magic tub. He was working his butts off! He moved less out of store to avoid useless arguments with his wife.

 

More days passed till one day Rushwan entered the most prohibited area of the house, the store as his father had not come out to have his meals from past two days. On his mother repeated requests he arrived here otherwise he disliked this place because of it untidiness and his father’s abusive screams. In childhood days one day while playing his ball came in this direction, Ahmed scolded Rushwan so heavily that he never dared to go near it. Even now that shouts were fresh in his mind and he was bit scared because his father shouted at him if he ever did this. He covered his face with the handkerchief as of irritating odour and dust. In dim light he could only view two feet one with slipper in it and other without it hanging outside the perforated tub. The upsides pose left him in bewilderment. He must have fallen in it because of losing his balance on excessive bending for picking up something from the bottom of tub, Ahmed’s son assumed. He took the body out of not only tub but also from dark and dingy place. His father was dead already. With the help of his neighbours the son cremated the body.

 

On returning home he decided to clean the store, the dirtiest place of the house and washing machine and each and every part of it. He was shocked to see one more corpse just like his father in the machine; his father never revealed him the secret of 3D photocopy. He buried it, found more, buried that too and found one more. All accumulated wealth drained in the cremation and burial ceremonies till he was left with no money. In rage, he buried the washing machine along with the replica. 

Tuesday, August 17, 2021

Journey

 Life is just like a train journey, continuously moving sometimes slow sometimes fast! Moving incessantly is a natural phenomenon of train same is with life. With passing time, the travellers change, new passengers board in whereas old passengers get down on reaching their destination. Similarly in life, one meets new persons and parts with others. Life is such!

Smriti, a beautiful gal in her late twenties loved to travel by train, her joy got doubled if by chance she met someone known in the journey, time fleet so swiftly while chatting when the destination came, when the journey is completed, went totally unnoticed. After buying the ticket, she boarded in the train, placed her luggage on the upper birth, took out ‘The Lowland’ by Jhumpa Lahiri from her handbag and started reading it. The engine’s whistle blew, train moved slowly, picked up the speed and reached the next station, and she didn’t come to know as she was absorbed in reading about Subhash and Udayan – two fictional brothers. Pushing each other, hurriedly people were getting down from the train and those who wished to get on the train were almost throwing their bags from the windows to reserve their seats and were thrusting themselves inside the train from the doors as they couldn’t enter from the windows with grills fitted in between. The noise disturbed her and she raised her eyes from the book to look at this hustle and bustle. Amidst this, she heard a familiar voice, “Hey, you here?” She instantly turned her head in the direction of sound and found Komal, her old batch-mate standing there. In few years, her silhouette had completely transformed from a slim girlish body to a fatty aunty. Her long plait like a black cobra had now taken a shape of a beautiful round bun, light jewellery of gold was novated into huge sized artificial jewellery, small bindi on her forehead had grown bigger and was shinning more. She had put on weight but her lovely smile was the same as in the college days. It had broadened with the time!

She asked, “Didn’t you recognise me?”

Smriti smiled and stood up. She hugged her friend tightly and after arranging her bags on upper birth with great difficulty they both started chatting about their college, about old friends, about movies, about this and about that. In conversation with Komal, she came to know that presently she was doing a job in private company, her husband had a business of wooden furniture, resided in a rented flat in Bhiwani and now she was a mother of two cute twin boys. These days they were constructing their own house in Delhi and to supervise the work, she was going there.

Komal asked, “So, what are you doing these days?” 

“I have recently joined my family business of designer jewellery.” Smriti replied.

“And what about marriage plans?”

“After some time, I will see! Right now, busy with some big assignments from U.S. and Europe.”

“You are going to be thirty soon, even then you are delaying it. Will you get married when you have grey hair and only a few teeth in your mouth and will not be able to see your groom properly without wearing spectacles?” She teased her.

“It’s just like that!” Smriti looked here and there to change the topic but couldn’t find a suitable one.

“Is there someone whom you love?” Before Smriti could say anything Komal uttered, “Didn’t I tell you about my love? How I met him? How I had a great time with him? Which gifts I bought for him? I didn’t hide anything from you. And see, you are not sharing anything. Say something, who is he?”

“Somebody.” Smriti didn’t want to disclose at this stage of her relationship but Komal was too eager to know.

Komal fired questions at her, “What he does? What is his name? Where does he live? How is his personality? Is he fair coloured or dark complexioned? Is he tall or short in height? Is he bald or have long hair? Where did you meet him? Did you converse with him on various aspects of life? Did you go with him to watch an English movie and have a corner seat? The last question she whispered, “Did you have sex with him?”

On seeing silence of Smriti, impatiently Komal said, “Tell me I can’t wait any more.”

It was rather impossible to escape from the questions of Komal so Smriti started narrating her story somewhat reluctantly, “Dristi, who was in my stream in M.Sc., on her b’day, I met him. He was fair, handsome and a strong and sturdy person. On that day, he was wearing navy blue colour coat and pant.”

“A featherless peacock!” Komal laughed not so loud on her own joke.

Smriti didn’t like her comment as the beauty of peacock is because of its feathers. She didn’t express her resentment but continued with her story, “He was meeting everyone decently. He sang the song ‘My heart is fleeting!” in his melodious voice.

“Oho, so he is a cuckoo as well!”

Smriti’s anger busted, “Stop comparing him with birds. You can compare him with some celebrity like Michael Jackson, Enrique Igless etc.”

“Phew! In the first meeting you went crazy about his face and voice.”

Smriti nodded. “Later I came to know from Dristi that he was working in a multinational company and earning a good pay package. Like youth of our country he too wished to go to a foreign land.”

“Then, what is the problem in getting married?”

“His elder sister will get married after three months. She will flewto Canada after marriage. All her in laws are NRIs. He is busy with the arrangements of her marriage as well as Visa. After that he will think about his marriage.”

“How much property they have?”

“He has his own house and two three shops in a shopping mall where foot fall is quite good.”

“Does he reside in your city?”

Smriti smiled and said, “Then I wouldn’t have wasted so much of time in taking only seven rounds around the fire with him.”

“Then where he lives?”

“After he got the job, he shifted to Pink city, Jaipur. He is presently residing in house no. 20 of Mayapuri Colony.”

“You are telling me the complete address as if I am going right now to meet him.”

“You told me about him but you forget to tell me his name – his identity!”

“How can I take his name? In our caste, girls are not allowed to speak husband’s name, sounds quite orthodox but we are like this.”

“He is not your husband. Right?”

“Hmmm…ok. I will tell you something interesting about his full name that it begins with letter ‘L’ and ends with letter ‘L’.”

“Are you talking about Lalit Mittal?” An elderly person sitting on the opposite birth said whose eyes were sorrowful and red. It seemed that he was crying hard from past few hours. Hearing this Smriti was about to fall from the seat only if Komal was not holding her hand. Smriti nodded and couldn’t utter a single word because of tornado of questions arising in her mind. She was starring him without blinking. May be he read Smriti’s mind and explained, “I am Lalit’s uncle. And I am returning back after attending his funeral possession. Yester night he died in a car accident. It will be better for you to forget him.”

All of a sudden, Smriti’s life came to a halt. The train stopped. He got down from the train, might be he had reached his destination. Smriti’s all dreams were shattered. She was feeling as if a strong earthquake had destroyed her house before it could even be built up.