A Bee in Harry's Bonnet

Harry was stunned for a moment. What had stunned him ? Was it the ball that smashed on him ? He remembered he was trying to wave a fly off as the tennis ball came upon him.

One of his friends told him, ‘Come on, you have to serve now’

‘What, what, ..’ Harry gasped.

‘Are you hurt, shall we stop the game ?’, Pete asked.

‘The game ?’ Harry was confused for a moment. Then his brow cleared.

Oh, our tennis game! What is the score ?’

‘You are serving 3-4 down’ his doubles partner Michael said.

Harry got ready to serve. But something bothered him.

Others got annoyed.

‘What’s the matter now ?’ Max asked.

‘Those hills’ Harry said.

The other three looked at each other.

‘Well, what about them ?’ Pete asked.

‘How did they spring up suddenly ?’ Harry asked.

Pete burst out laughing.

‘You have been hit hard, it seems. Next you will be asking what your name is.’

Harry looked confused.

‘Well, err … as a matter of fact, what is … my name ?’

The three said in unison, ‘Harry Andrews’

‘Harry ? That is my name ?’

‘Yes, do you want to play or not ?’ Max asked.

The game went on.

There were fresh problems for Harry after the game ended. His team managed to win by the tie-breaker 12-10 but the elation of victory could put off his problems only for a few minutes. Harry didn’t know where his room was. Others showed him the way. It was a miserable room. Cramped. That was what he felt. It was a small room. He could not remember he was living here. In fact he could not remember anything about him. Except that he is a tennis player. He could remember that match and that the score was 3 each dues and advantage against him. So he was hit by the ball and he had become 3-4 down but he had prevailed in spite of being stunned liked that, had fought on, to win in the end.

Suddenly a presence breezed in.

He looked up. An apparition filled his eyes. It was a girl, well, no, on second glance it was clear it was a woman, very pleasant to the eyes. He couldn’t place her.

‘err, if you don’t mind, .. who.. who are you ?’

The woman laughed.

‘You have been hit hard indeed. What they said is true it seems.

So you have forgotten your mum Maya. What else have you forgotten ?’

‘Well, I don’t seem to remember anything at all’ Harry said.

‘Nothing ?’ Maya asked.

‘Well, I could remember the tennis match’

‘It’s a pity. You have to give it up. Your tennis scholarship has run out. You have to choose some other career keeping up with your financial status’ Maya said.

‘What’s wrong with it ?’ Harry asked.

‘Oh, my God!You don’t remember much.Let’s see.Do you remember your education ?

Where did you study ? Do you remember your abcd ?’

Harry thought hard.

‘I can’t recollect where I studied. But I can remember what I studied’ He said.

‘Thank God for that. Now that you have to give up tennis, think of what trade you would like to take up. Here are pamphlets about all trades. Have your pick’ Maya threw some books at him.

‘Why should I give up tennis ?

‘Oh, my poor boy, you were an orphan. I picked you up, taught you your three ‘r’s. You showed more interest in tennis. I am poor but somehow managed to provide a court and balls and racquet through some rich people. But they are leaving this place now. They would have already left by now. So you have to quit tennis’ Maya said.

‘Who are those friends ?’ Harry asked.

‘You played your last match with them just now’ Maya said.

‘Who are you, what do you do’ asked Harry.

‘I am Maya Mary Andrews. I am a very poor woman surviving by being a maid in a rich man’s place’

‘Where is your husband ? My d .. dad?’

‘Your dad, if you can call him that, is Joseph Andrews. He lives separately. He peddles his carpentry skills in a shanty-town in India. If you decide to learn carpentry I will try to make you his apprentice. I am still legally his wife. He should listen to me’

‘Give me some breathing time, m.. mum, yes, I suppose I used to call you that’.

She laughed. ‘Yea, you better do that Harry. You require to relearn many things. However, thanks be to the Merciful Providence that your education has not been taken away from you and you have not been made an idiot. I cannot afford to educate you again.’

He found something odd in her behavior. Such a momentous loss of memory has happened to him and she was not taking it very seriously.

He set about organizing his life after the memory loss. But a feeling of being always watched stayed with him. He was feeling conspicuous and inconspicuous at the same time. He was sure people were watching him but were pretending not to watch.

After a day he began to feel at home. A week sped past.

Then he received a post. The envelope was addressed to him. HARRY ANDREWS, it said clearly. Inside was a ticket for two, to spend a week, all expenses paid, in a villa, Breezy Meadows, in California. A hotel in Los Angeles had sent him the gift. Courtsey his tennis friends

Maya was overjoyed. ‘You have a week of heaven before you start hell again. Before you begin your trade, be it carpentry or any other thing, we have a week’.

He let her rush him.

Long flight by her side. They were at the villa. It was night.

She kissed him lightly and said in incoherently, ‘Good Night. Search for the Beggar Prince and carpentry’

William Richard Bates woke up.

He was disoriented for a few seconds.

The words ‘Search for beggar prince and carpentry’ flashed in his mind.

He must have had a dream. So vivid he forgot who he was. What was the dream ? He could remember something of tennis, something of his being a poor beggar. But who was he ?

He turned around. There was a stick on note.

‘You are Bill Richard Bates’ an elegant hand writing said.

In a flash he could remember. His father, the richest man on earth, had said on his death bed, look out for a job for yourself. You can’t be a wastrel on my wealth. Tennis or carpentry or anything, choose your vocation.

‘Search for beggar prince and carpentry’ screamed his mind.

He got it.

He got into the internet.

‘Beggar prince Buddha’ – that was 777th link. But that was it. He clicked on it avidly.

His mind was in a turmoil.

Then the 10007th link got him. It said ‘Swarajya Siddhi (attaining of one’s own kingdom- Sanskrit) – Beggar realized he was a prince – Vedanta -….’. Again there were feverish clicks.

Then he sat down. An hour passed. Now his face was the calm after the monsoon downpour.

He searched for Carpentry. He patiently went through all links, it finally stopped on Joseph the carpenter.

He had made his decision.

The event stunned the world. There were many reports. But it is a pity nobody took the reports of the Scribbler, a fortnightly tabloid, seriously.

‘Our Ear to the ground, reports that William Richard Bates, the world’s richest person who suddenly gave it all to United Nations and different charities and disappeared, is now working as carpentry apprentice in a settlement in India.

People have different theories about how it all happened. But our Ear says, it all got to do with an animagus (a person who could transform himself or herself into an animal or insect) springing up and showing her skills at turning herself into a fly and to bite all but your most recent memory out of yourself. She sprang up amidst world’s richest boys in an exclusive hotel. Their common envy being Bates, they chose to experiment on him.

The experiment lasted for a week.

But we have reason to conclude that the current symptoms of the great charity being shown by many of the stinking rich have something to do with this’

It didn’t help to enhance Scribbler’s dwindling credibility, that its next issue, which happened to be its last said : ‘Did anyone believe our last report about the Bates abdication ? We make it clear we said it in innocent fun.’

There was a report in a country paper having a hundred subscribers, that the Scribbler’s owner was bought and he got his price of 10 million dollars which he wanted to pay NASA to book his place for the first civilian flight to Mars.

Tom and Jerry

This fellow made a real spectacle. The hotel had been known for its sedate dining. Suddenly it became spectacularly uproarious.

One waiter made all the difference. The Manager was in two minds whether to keep or fire him. Though he really put off some high-brow customers, he attracted the general crowd who brought all the money to the cash counter.

The man was put to this job by the Manager as he had incurred the Manager’s ire in some small matter. Firing him would have caused its own complications for the Manager so he was demoted to wait upon the clients, a job that the Manager gave for boys much junior to him. But the officer turned waiter made the hotel’s cash counter ring louder than ever.

The Manager’s minions brought him spicy news. His mind said some of the spice was added while carrying but he yielded to his weakness and believed.

He had to make his decision. He couldn’t think of any more ways of making his victim grovel. This man was made of rubber. He could bend to any extent yet not break. The Manager thought hard how to make this fellow more of a menial. No inspiration came. With a sigh he made his decision. Before he reached for the phone it rang.

Tomcat had to let go Jerry the mouse as Jimmy the dog barked.

‘Yes, sir’ he said and froze. ‘Yes, yes sir’ he could only mumble.

He was kicked upstairs to their head-quarters to wait upon his long-forgotten bosses.

The big fish in a small tank suddenly found itself a tiny fish in a gigantic tank.

The Terrorist

Dawood’s body lay crumpled near the sewer.

Peace activist Kusum’s body looked pretty even in death. It lay sprawled on the road.

Major Kishen had fought on well till the end came.

‘Hi, girl, are you the promised houri?’ the bearded man asked.

‘Hello, I am Kusum. You just killed me, you and that Major’ said the girl.

‘Hi’ simply said the dead Major.

All the three felt the same. The fight had gone out of them. They felt a strain off them and were relaxed.

‘How come I had been so foolish? That mad man Osama fooled me. Now I see he himself is a self deluded ass. How nice to meet you two!’ Dawood said.

‘I had been a fool too. Sorry Major, I thought you were the devil and Dawood an innocent victim. I should have tried to let Dawood see reason or allowed you to give him a whack in case he failed. I made things difficult for you, Major’ Kusum said and turning to Dawood. ‘sorry mate, I pampered you and egged you on.’

‘It seems it is confession time. You two seem nice folks, after all. After all this tension of living under the huge shadow of bullets, I began to, sort of, hate you fellas’ said the Major.

The three looked at the blooming chinaar tree.

‘Where all prospects please and man alone is vile’

Three seeds fell on the soft bed of the tree. They grew to be tall trees looking on wisely at the unfolding events in the country. The Major tree got cut very soon. The others waited for their chance in patience.

20 October, 2003.

Of Black Holes and Baby Universes

Of Black Holes and Baby Universes

‘Brahma’s one day is our one million years. His one night is another million years when we remain in hibernation.’ Said the Indian philosopher.

The girl smiled to herself.

‘Look at how we sleep. We die a daily death when we sleep. When Brahma sleeps the Universe dissolves back into its cause’ said the Indian philosopher further.

The girl looked pleased.

Then she closed her eyes for a moment.

‘There was a big bang. The Universe started with a big bang’ said a scientist.

The girl thumped her table. ‘Good’ she cried jubilantly.

‘The Universe is of the shape of a foot-ball’ said another scientist. The girl jumped wildly. She could hear the scientist clearly because she had set all the translating and amplifying feature.

She took a pin out of her hair.

Another scientist cried, ‘Here, I have found a Black Hole!’

The girl smiled again.

‘Black Hole is neither black nor a hole. It emits light’ said Stephen Hawking.

The girl put her torch away in amusement.

Then she suddenly got bored. She put her straw into the big bowl and sucked away.

The scientists and philosophers laughed together inside her till their sides ached.

The baby ET girl woke up. She clutched the ice-cream ball that was her birth day gift.

Her mother came in. ‘How many times have I told you not to spoil your new ball?’ she asked.

‘Mum, you always ask difficult questions. I didn’t keep count. Isn’t it my ball? Anyway, I have a question too’ said the girl.

‘What is it, make it snappy. I don’t have time’ said the mother.

‘Who is dreaming us?’

I Remember

I hovered above the body that had held me bound seconds back. What I see amuses me, hits me hard, pleases me, yes, all these by sudden turns.

My folks gather around the body. If they could know I am around and am observing them as well as reading their minds they would all be embarrassed! It is better they don’t know.

‘Kratho smara, Kritham smara’ the sonorous chanter chants. ‘Remember O Mind, remember thy deeds’. Yea, it is time I do that. I’ve had enough watching people all over the world. Now to ponder and decide. Now or never. I barely have the time. The countdown to whatever lies ahead has already started.

My life! Have I done justice to it? Good deeds? Yes many. Mistakes? Yes, many. Ah, some it shames to think even now. Regrets? Hardly any. Though it seems now that some things could have been done better. Ah, if I had remembered that this would come! Come on, no more sighing over spilt milk! Any hatred carried over? Past hurts read like a story in this book called mind. It is not me. It is something I read to enjoy crying. Love. That is the only feeling I feel now. Ah, these kids! Even these old men who have forgotten death and busy themselves with trifles! Pity that they don’t do better wells in me. Then I smile. I was no better. Just a thing more! Will they call the doctors to take the eyes and the organs? Ah, I can see the hospital ambulance starting miles away. Unto thee Mother of all love, I yield. Amen!

Swami Sampurnananda, 19 October 2003

Truth Alone Triumphs

http://thinknaturally.blogspot.com/2009/07/banning-religious-names-in-unholy.html

http://diwali-celebrations.blogspot.com/2009/09/diwali-fireworks-that-dazzle-world.html

The country burst into joyous crackle of sounds and lights. The younger folks were wading into the fire crackers. The elders sat and watched in content amusement.

The district which produced these crackers exported them throughout the world.

There had been a conspiracy to gradually snuff out this booming business. These simple people were not prepared for the cut-throat tactics of the candle lobby. The candlewallahs joined hands with Christian Missionaries who wanted to take the sparkle out of this colourful Hindu festival. What resulted was Jesuitry. Devious arguments ostensibly for the good of the people – terms like noise pollution, child labor and so on, were bandied about.

Hindus were known for their mildness. ‘Mild Hindu’ was a common name called. Their manufacturers who did business with honesty as their capital more than their money, couldn’t hit back. Hindus are known for trusting their enemies more perhaps than their brethren. The cracker merchants were just following the practice the entire county did. They used to engage the so-called child labourers. When the country was down with internal strife and the subsequent foreign exploitation, their youngsters had no option but to start making money at as early an age as possible. But as times changed this district changed too. The cracker companies built schools and other facilities for the children. But the enemy attacks continued.

Then a journalist came, good people joined forces and just by sheer force of goodness the country was back to a burst of joyous sounds and lights.

Children of the district for whom hungry crocodiles shed tears, escaped the crocodiles’ jaws and smiled happily.

Truth alone triumphs; not untruth.

Swami Sampurnananda, 25 October 2003.

How they heard the Call - 1 - Planting of a seed

I can't recall how we fell to talking. We hardly knew each other. But the hour ended with us sharing a coffee pot and his telling of the event which changed the world for him.

He was a well-off merchant hailing from an affluent trading state. He had come to Calcutta on business. People gave him a list of places for sight-seeing. He was perhaps fed up with routine sights. His bored eyes picked out one place from the list. Belur Math! His hotel attendant told him he can see Mahatmas there. One morning found him there. He saw a deserted expanse of area with a huge stone temple in the middle. He asked the only person he could see, the gate-keeper, about the holy men of the place.

'Go upstairs of that building. The biggest of the holy men lives there' the gateman pointed. The merchant entered the room to see a small man in monk's robes folding up a mat, who left quietly. Then he saw the monk sitting on the chair.

'I came to see holy men. The gate-keeper said you are the biggest' said the merchant.

The monk laughed. 'How, how, do you find me?' he asked.

The merchant fell to loving him at first sight. The monk talked at a fast pace, repeating his words. There was an earnestness and affection in his talk. He rang a bell and called for breakfast. A younger monk brought a tray with sweets and fruits and left.

The monk said, 'Take this. It is prasad'.

'I don't care for Prasad and temples', said the young man, 'however, it is good breakfast, so I shall have it'.

After breakfast a glass of milk came for the monk. He gave it to the young merchant and asked him to drink it.

The visitor protested. 'No, you are an old man. You need it', he said.

'No, you need it more' said the monk, 'one day you will be a monk like us'

'What in the world are you talking about' said the astonished merchant.

'Yes, you have seen all the enjoyment in the world so far. Now, I am teaching renunciation, how it gives joy to renounce. Your taking that milk gives me happiness.

So take it'

The merchant was still dazed. The monk was so sure and serene as he said these words that he felt panicky for some minutes.

'I never have thought of becoming a monk. I came here on business. How can you say this?' protested the young man.

'Yes, it happens that way. Don't be panicky. Usually you should have met a couple of other people before meeting me. He who brought you direct to me today will bring you to monastic life in his own sweet time. Keep reading Upanishads and works of Swami Vivekananda till then. Be at ease with yourself and with everybody. All will happen in good time' said the monk.

And so it happened. The ground was not aware of its fertility. But that descendant of the expert divine farmer recognized it and planted the seed. The full grown tree whispered the story to me.

Spirituality can literally be given to somebody like a flower or like a fruit breakfast with a live seed to be swallowed. Such men were there and such things did happen.

Swami Sampurnananda, 18 November 2003.

The Monk was Swami Madhavananda, who was the General Secretary of the Ramakrishna Mission then. The other monk folding the mat was Swami Vireswarananda.