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Dil-Dosti-Yaarana

After a sumptuous dinner and warm welcome by Indrajit and Jagrata, we left for the Service Apartment, EcoSuites by Stayvilla, arranged by Indrajit, about 3 km from his place. EcoSuites, Service Apartment has three 2-bedroom+lounge units per floor, newly constructed, albeit a bit inside…entry through a narrow lane but has car parking for 5-6 vehicles. The rooms are spacious with kettle for making tea/coffee, running hot n cold water and big screen television. I would say, it’s a 3+ star accommodation, rare to find at the price negotiated by my friend. We were informed that room service is available too, round the clock. Initially, we were booked for 2 rooms with extra bed for the 5th person but we got the third room as well. I had the room all to myself as other eligible members refused to share with me fearing my snoring which sounds like the roar of a lion!!!

In the morning, we checked with Indro if he can arrange for a 7-seater vehicle for all of us to travel together; after a while he called up to inform that practically all the bigger commercial passenger vehicles have gone to Prayagraj for Mahakumbh, which is true because we have seen them not only in Prayagraj but on the highways as well. Instead of hiring another smaller vehicle and take two of them, we decided to adjust in our Jeep Compass, Sudipta would sit in the front passenger seat while four of us would manage within the rear seat… Dil mein jagah honi chahiye baki sab adjust ho jata hai…

I wanted to have Dhuska with Aloo-Chhola Sabji, but it wasn’t readily available, so we settled for stuffed paratha and egg with hot tea for breakfast.

DAY ONE (Thursday 20.02.25)

Our first destination was Patratu Valley (I have visited this earlier with Indro), the serpentine road with breathtaking view at every turn makes the journey feel amazing. We stopped at the Patratu View Point to take some pictures of the valley below with the mountain range as backdrop but unfortunately, the day turned out to be cloudy hiding the mountains from view. Anyways, we clicked few selfies and pictures of us with the valley in the background.

There were few vendors selling street foods, we had the phoochka or golgappa from one such guy, the taste was average, lacked the punch associated with the item. I also had a plate of Aloo-tikki with Channa… the Channa tasted tangy and nice but the tikki was nowhere near the famed Delhi version. We had then rounded off with Amul ice-creams before going down to the valley to experience the Patratu Lake created by the dam.

There were a flock of gulls near the shore enjoying swim, occasionally fluttering their wings to hop over the water, apparently, they were fed by the tourists visiting the lake. A few of the tourists were taking boat rides as well, the speedboats creating a jet-spray in their wake reminded me of my boat ride in the expansive sea in Thailand. We bought the tickets for the boat ride and were picked up by the waiting boat which took us to the island on the lake at the far side, took a complete round and a smaller circle and we were back to the shore. It was a less than 10 minutes ride but thoroughly enjoyable, giving us a childlike thrill.

Our next destination was Palani Falls situated 11 km or 22 minutes’ drive away from our location. During monsoon and immediately afterwards, the sight is wonderful but as this winter had very scant rains, the water had completely dried and one only see the dark patches on the rocks marking the path of the water fall. We were disappointed. We spent few minutes at the gate deciding on our next destination, Indro suggested, Tuti Jharna Temple near Ramgarh off NH20, a 1.5 hour drive. Topshe took the wheel and I shifted to the rear seat to take nap.

I woke up when Topshe was navigating through a very narrow village lane of Sandi, reminding me of the numerous trips I had made through such village roads while dropping or picking up my son from his university, SNU situated on the GT Road, Chithara village.   

We parked nearer to the temple complex in the middle of makeshift vendor stalls, empty but likely to come alive in the evening and walked to the temple complex. The atmosphere was serene and calm in the afternoon with a sound of water flowing in a stream coming from the distance becoming more prominent as we got closer to the temple. What struck us is the ancient structure of the temple blending seamlessly with the surrounding landscape. With anticipation we stepped inside, eager to uncover the stories and legends that had stood the test of time (please read at https://indroyc.com).

Tuti Jharna Temple… Continuous water flowing on the Shiv Linga.

The Tuti Jharna temple is renowned for a fascinating natural phenomenon—water flows continuously over the Shiva Linga, yet no visible source can be found. The mystery has baffled visitors for generations, with no scientific explanation to fully account for it. Some say it’s an underground spring, while others believe it to be a divine marvel. Regardless of the reason, the sight was mesmerizing—the steady flow of water over the ancient Shiva Linga, the rhythmic sound creating an almost meditative atmosphere. Standing there, we couldn’t help but be drawn into the temple’s serene and mystical aura. Whether science had an answer or not, didn’t matter—we were content simply to soak in the divine energy that seemed to permeate the place.

The handpump just outside the temple, water gushing out without any human intervention.

Our next destination was Chhinnamasta Kali Temple situated in Rajrappa, 38 km or 50 minutes’ drive from our location.

Nestled amidst the verdant hills of Jharkhand, the Chhinnamasta Temple in Rajrappa is a popular pilgrimage site for devotees of Shaktism. The temple is dedicated to Goddess Chhinnamasta, also known as Prachanda Chandika, who is revered as the embodiment of power, courage, and wisdom.

The journey to Rajrappa is not just a physical one but also a spiritual voyage through time and nature. The Damodar River, with its broad and flat valley, tells a geological story that spans millions of years. The Bhairavi or Bhera River, cascading from the Ranchi plateau, joins the Damodar, creating a picturesque waterfall and a sacred confluence. This spot, steeped in legend and myth, is where Goddess Chhinnamasta is said to have appeared before Lord Shiva and Parvati. This location has a special significance. It is at the union of Bhairavi nadi (female) coming from the top, meeting Damodar nada (male) signifying vipareeta rati (opposite copulation) pose as described in Devi Chhinnamasta’s dhyana (vipareeta rataturam). Here Bhairavi is active Shakti and Damodar is the male passive member of rati action. Damodar is very calm and Bhairavi is an active member.

Chhinnamasta (ছিন্নমস্তা) temple, dedicated to Goddess Chinnamasta (छिन्नमस्ता), is a marvel of Tantric architecture. Adorned with intricate carvings and sculptures depicting scenes from Hindu mythology, the temple stands as a testament to ancient craftsmanship. The main shrine houses the idol of Goddess Chhinnamasta, bedecked with flowers, jewels, and offerings from devotees. The temple complex also includes smaller shrines dedicated to various deities and a holy pond for ritual cleansing. (Source: Indrosphere, https://Indroyc.com)

My friends, when they came to Ranchi for Judhajit’s (only son of Indrajit & Jagrata) wedding, they missed out visiting the temple due to tremendous rush on the occasion of Akshaya Tritiya. However, this time we could actually go inside the Garbha-griha and offer our puja to Maa Chhinnamasta. When the Purohit asked the name of the Jajman, I automatically mentioned “Deepika”, perhaps because she’s the most important person in my life or perhaps I have reached a state of mind where the desires have ceased to exist… I am at peace with my current existence. I know, my friend, Madhav or Keshav is always with me (even when I am writing this) and keep guiding, removing obstacles from my path, like ensuring we could enter the city of Prayagraj, unhindered when many others faced daunting task of walking many miles to the Triveni Sangam. The Supreme One, often tests my resilience too, teaching me valuable lessons of life.

Just to clear doubts from the minds of those reading this, I generally avoid all ritualistic worshipping. I am agnostic by nature and thoughts. I believe, Madhav or the Supreme One is omnipresent in my life by manifesting in the form of friends and family who are wise and full of empathy, always guiding towards the path of Dharma. I am lucky.

After a very satisfying darshan of the Vigraha, we left for our hotel, dropping Indro at his home to freshen up, promising to return after an hour or so to devour another true Bong dinner. We had insisted that we take them out for dinner but Indro sighting the health of Jagrata had turned it down. Moreover, he said that since we are his guests, it is his right to feed us at least one meal a day. We couldn’t argue further and accepted his invite.

Jagrata, dished out another spread of true blue Bong culinary affair consisting of Shukto, Lal Shak-Posto, Sojne Phuler Batichocchori, Lau Chingri, Ilish Machher Jhol (Egg Curry for me), Sada Bhat & Nolen Gurer Rosogolla. Even as I write, my mouth is watering up…

We spent couple hours with them chatting and having a gala time, telling stories of our exploits during our school days and all the merriments we had at the weddings of our sons, Judhajit and Ayush.

DAY TWO (21.02.25)

On our last day in Ranchi, Indro suggested we go to Dassam Falls and then to the 16-Arm Durga Temple popularly known as Prachin Kalin Solah Bhuji Maa Dewri Mandir, through Taimara Ghati.It was a 68km or 1.5-hour journey from Indro’s home through Ranchi Ring Road and then NH33 or TATA Marg. This particular stretch of the road is alleged to be one of the top ten haunted roads of the world. And did we experience anything weird or paranormal?

From the Ranchi Ring Road, we took the exit to NH33 and Indro informed that up ahead, the stretch is known to be haunted though he had never experienced anything spooky. He informed that many travellers have on record said that their watch stopped or their vehicle got stalled in the middle of the road, some even confirmed sighting apparition of a veiled woman clad in white saree. We all became interested and extra alert to spot anything unusual that could be termed spooky. Just to tease my friends, I told them that our watches have suddenly leaped forward from 11:45 to 12 noon. They all checked their watches and were shocked.

Though, Indro had been on this stretch, particularly for Dassam Falls and Dewri Temple and knew the way to both places, the face of the road had changed since his last visit, so we had Google Maps directing us. All was going well when suddenly, the Google Map on the car screen went for a wild dance, it kept re-routing on a single straight road. We thought, it was because of network issue but all the phones showed full strength of the signal. We kept going straight for a while and then the Google Map became alive and directed us to take a u-turn after 3 more km; we had effectively overshot our right turn to Dassam Falls Road by almost 10-12 km. Why it happened, I don’t know, whether it has anything to do with paranormal activity or simply a momentary loss of GPS signal, I leave it to the readers to decide.

The Dassam Falls gets it’s name from the fact that during and after the monsoon, the water falls in 10 different streams from the rock. Dassam Waterfalls, at this time of the year was not the thunderous spectacle as it is during the monsoon, but still held a quiet, undeniable majesty. The water tumbled gracefully down the rugged rocks, splitting into multiple shimmering ribbons that caught the sunlight, creating a mesmerizing display. The verdant backdrop of dense forests framed the falls perfectly, adding to their serene beauty. We spent some time at different viewing platforms taking pictures, going down to the base for the majestic view of the cascading water falling down the rock-face. While coming up, I counted the steps, they are 206 steps from the base to the top surface. A good exercise for the 60-plus youngsters and it called for refreshment as well. We had the orange papaya, a local cultivation and wonderfully ripe n sweet tasting. We also bought Wild Berries (Indian Jujube), 500gm for just Rs.10/-. Coming back home, I made a tangy chutney of it using date-jaggery. We also had freshly made veggie fritters (pakodas) paired with hot masala tea. A family of monkey was following us from base in the hope of getting food but we had none to offer, disappointed they went after a young couple who were having something more interesting for the monkey family. While we were enjoying the fritters a chicken with 5-6 chicks wandered near us pecking at the food they could only see.

Our next destination was the famous Dewri Temple of 16-bhuja Maa Durga. On the way, stopped for a moment at the open roof temple of Maa Kali & Hanuman. The idols were out in the open as if to oversee the travellers on the road below and assure them a safe journey.

In the tranquil outskirts of Tamar, a quaint village nestled along the Jamshedpur-Ranchi Highway, lies a haven of divinity, the Deori Mandir. This sacred abode is home to Maa Deori, the revered sixteen-armed manifestation of Goddess Durga. As I revisit this timeless sanctuary after a prolonged hiatus, memories surge forth, weaving a tapestry of spirituality and folklore. Durga is a warrior goddess, and she is depicted to express her martial skills. Her iconography typically resonates with these attributes, where she rides a lion or a tiger, and has between eight and eighteen hands, each holding a weapon to destroy and create. The main attraction is that the idol is having sixteen hands, normally goddess Durga is seen with eight or ten hands. At the heart of Deori Mandir lies its pièce de résistance – the idol of Goddess Durga, bedecked with sixteen resplendent arms. This unique portrayal, deviating from the conventional depictions, exudes an aura of martial prowess and divine grace. Legends intertwined with the temple’s existence narrate sagas from epochs past, tracing its origins to the era of the Mahabharata.

Among the myriad narratives enshrined within its ancient walls, one resonates with the valour of Emperor Ashoka (Reigned ca. 268 – ca. 232 BCE) and his entreaty for divine intervention during the Kalinga War (ca. 260 BCE). The saga of a visionary king, stirred by celestial dreams, unveils the temple’s hidden sanctum amidst dense foliage, echoing the whims of destiny and devotion. According to folklore, a king of Tamar, believed to be in the 18th century,  once saw a dream. The goddess told him that there was a temple in Deori, where she must be worshipped. Villagers, as directed by the king, cleared a forested patch to find a small temple with a stone statue of Durga. Ever since the deity is worshipped here.

Legend has it that whoever has tried to alter the structure of the temple has had to face the wrath of the gods and suffer consequences. Therefore, new construction is being done from outside keeping the original temple intact. (Source: Indrosphere, https://indroyc.com)

There was market place just outside the temple courtyard where the aboriginal or Adivasis from the nearby villages gathered to sell their produce. The veggies were absolutely fresh from the farm and many kinds of greens which I had never seen before. They were selling different kinds of lentils too, unpolished, unadulterated besides superfoods like quinoa and millets. I bought the Arhaar Dal and raw Turmeric from a lady. Sudipta was still drooling over the Lau-Chingri and Sojne phuler Chocchori, she bought both to take back home and surprise the children with culinary delights.

On our way back, we stopped at roadside restaurant, Panchvati Restaurant, near the Surya Temple, Bundu,primarily to use the restroom and have tea. As I was parking the Jeep, I saw a signage that said “Desi Bakre ka Mans Milta Hai Yahan” meaning Country Goat Meat available here. This intrigued me because, I have heard of “desi murga” as opposed to “broiler chicken” but didn’t know that such differentiation exists in the mutton category as well. Indro checked at the counter and we ordered for two plates of that with Tanduri Roti besides onion pakodas and tea. Whether it was a native or foreign goat, the mutton preparation was delicious with succulent, melt-in-the-mouth pieces of soft mutton. We thoroughly enjoyed the food and the break.

One of Pulak’s cousin lives in Ranchi whom he wanted to meet even if briefly, so on our way to the hotel, we dropped him in Doranda, a populous locality of Ranchi, very close to the MECON Housing Society famous for the residence of M S Dhoni, ex-captain of Indian Cricket Team on who’s life a biographical movie was made few years ago. Indro showed us the flat where he lived besides the school he attended and the football ground where he intended to become a footballer before destiny made him one of the iconic cricketers of this century.

We reached back to our hotel after dropping Indro to his home. After freshening up, I packed my stuff keeping the nightwear and a fresh set of clothes for our long journey to Varanasi enroute to home. Thereafter, putting my phone to charge, I took a quick nap before Gora came in to say it was time to visit Indro’s home for another dinner, this time prepared by his son, Judha and daughter-in-law, Tania. In effect, he had ensured we always have a home-cooked meal, at least once a day during our stay in Ranchi, besides ensuring we don’t spend any money on dinner.

The culinary spread, once again, a glorious spread of traditional Bengali delicacies, laced with the love and affection of the chef and simplicity of home-cooked delish. The fragrant Basanti Pulao, with its saffron-hued grains and subtle sweetness, paired with Guri Aloor Torkari, a tangy, mildly spicy and flavourful dry small potato curry (Jagrata’s creation). This was followed by the aromatic brilliance of Murg Kalimirch with creamy gravy with a hint of black pepper that tingled in your mouth, a delightful dish by Chef Judhajit. The hearty meal was rounded off by my favourite Lal Mishti Doi, it’s creamy and mesmerising taste of Nolen Gur kept lingering in our mouth long after our meal was done with.

More than the dinner, it was a celebration of friendship, shared histories, and the irreplaceable joy of gathering around a table filled with good food and great company. No restaurant, no matter how fancy, could ever match the warmth of a homecooked meal. I am sure, we all will remember our Ranchi Reunion as the epitome of Dil, Dosti & Yaarana till our last breath. We can never put to words our feelings of gratitude for Indro, Jagrata, Judhajit and Tania for the love and affection they showered on us throughout our stay in Ranchi.

We bade them adieu and prepared our long journey back home, halting overnight at BHEL Guesthouse in Varanasi. The journey back home was uneventful except the usual culprit being the NH19 right from Sasaram to Varanasi till we took the exit to the city only to face unruly, erratic traffic, typically UP. The final leg of journey was smooth ride via Purvanchal Expressway, Lucknow-Agra Expressway and finally Yamuna Expressway to Greater Noida and then home after dropping my friends at New Ashok Nagar.  

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Customer Service

In the recent times, two of the iconic restaurants of Kolkata, namely 6 Ballygunge Place & Arsalan have opened their branch in Delhi and I have visited both these places. The former is famous for the typical Bengali cuisine offering in a fine dining ambience while the Biriyani of the latter is to die for.

I being a lifelong marketing-advertising person, I believe the customer is the king/queen. The customer is always right even if he/she is not, you have to accept that they are right. That’s how the business runs and flourishes. Some of the organisation goes extra miles to satisfy their customers. One example I would like to mention here… While visiting my son and daughter-in-law in Bangalore, I realised they don’t have an appropriate utensil to cook 1kg of mutton, so after consulting my wife I ordered for a 3ltr Prestige Pressure Cooker from Blinkit. However, on receipt, I found it to be significantly small for the purpose and I need at least a 5ltr capacity pressure cooker. I called up the customer care and explained the issue. They readily accepted and refunded the money and asked me to choose and buy from the app. They could have refused the return as I had made a conscious choice but they showed empathy with their customer and won my allegiance for life.

Coming back to the restaurants, I found 6 Ballygunge Place, Eldeco Centre, next to Malaviya Nagar Metro station, New Delhi to be very friendly, warm place where one can go back any number of times. The staff is knowledgeable, ready to help with suggestions and prompt with service. The food is, of course very delicious and authentic and the menu has a wide range to choose from. The management and staff of the place keep their customer in high esteem and go miles to satisfy their needs and wants. No wonder that you have to make prior bookings most of the days for lunch or dinner, as their covers are mostly 100% occupied.

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In stark contrast is Arsalan Restaurant, recently opened in Rajouri Garden, New Delhi… I visited the outlet yesterday with my dear friend Santanu Basu. Both of us are familiar with the restaurant in Kolkata having dined as well as packed the Biriyani and curries from their Park Circus and EMP Bypass outlets. These outlets, despite heavy footfalls have always won our appreciation for quality of food as well as service. However, their Delhi outlet has miles to go to earn the badges. When we went there, we were asked to upstairs by the lady at the front desk without specifying the floor, neither made any effort to guide us; we decided to check both first and second floors. Luckily for us, we found seating on the first floor itself which had only one other table occupied by a couple. The air-conditioning wasn’t switched on near our table, not a single staff was visible to even offer the menu. I found one lying on the next table and took it. After almost 15 minutes, a steward came with another menu but then we had decided our dishes and placed our order. Another 10-15 minutes passed before we were served, we had asked for a full plate of Biriyani to be served half n half (the Park Circus outlet served us when a dozen of us visited the place for dining) but the guy came with a full plate of Biriyani and an empty plate. He started clumsily to divide it into two portions and I had to stop him because he was spilling the food on the table. We asked for Coke Zero and Regular Coke but was served Diet Coke instead. Overall, the staff gave out a feeling that they are not interested in their job, they don’t love what they are supposed to do and perhaps shall do the minimum to keep their job. We asked the steward for suggestions about the curry, instead of recommending, he simply ranted out the menu. I was looking for some human touch and empathy not a robotic server.

There is no doubt that their chefs are class apart when it comes to cooking Biriyani, it is flavourful, non-spicy with succulent mutton pieces, melt in mouth potatoes and egg. We ordered for a plate of Quorma to go with the Biriyani, it was more of a regular curry than Quorma. Santanu and I, both agreed that the Quorma we had at Al Jawahar Restaurant at Jam Masjid was far tastier and more flavourful. And yes, that’s another restaurant we will go back because of friendly services.

We packed some dishes for back home, which were packed nicely in an expensive jute bag, how long they will giveaway this complimentary jute bag, that’s a question. In Kolkata, they pack in polybags only as a standard packaging and does a double packing if it is to be taken on a train or airplane.

In conclusion, I think, food industry is highly competitive and complex business because, it not has to cater to the taste buds but needs to up their customer service to ensure repeat footfall.  

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Mahakumbh & Beyond

The four of us, Tapas, Pulak, Gora and I were at the famous restaurant Al Jawahar in Jama Masjid, having lunch when our conversation turned towards the on-going Mahakumbh. Pulak revealed that he had already visited with his sons and it is very doable by road. That prompted us to plan our own trip to Prayagraj. I suggested that since we are going all that distance, we might as well go a little further to Ranchi (Jharkhand) to visit our dear friend Indrajit. Keeping everyone’s schedule and comfort in mind, we decided the dates, 18th to 23rd February and accordingly booked the hotel/ homestay at Prayagraj, Ranchi and Varanasi.

DAY ONE (TUESDAY 18.02.2025)

In view of the long distance, we decided to take my Jeep Compass… also I wanted to put some mileage as well… after 3.5 years, it hasn’t crossed 20000 km!!

I started from home at 5:35 am (target was 5 am) and reached the pick-up destination, Topshe’s home at around 6 am. There was a bit of apprehension whether the boot-space of Jeep would be able accommodate the luggage of 5 person but everything fitted in the space. We started for Prayagraj… Mahakumbh around 6:40 am, Google Map said 10 hours 50 minutes to the destination. HAR HAR MAHADEV…

A little bit about Kumbh Mela…

The Mahakumbh Mela is based on a legend about the churning of the ocean to find the nectar of immortality or Amrit. The story says that as Lord Vishnu was carrying the Kumbh or the vessel filled with Amrit, he had scuffles with the Rakshasas (Demons) and in the that melee four drops of the nectar fell at Triveni Sangam, Haridwar, Ujjain and Nashik making them sacred and the sites of the Kumbh Mela. 

Prayagraj, located at the confluence of Ganga, Yamuna and Saraswati River. The third one is hidden.

Haridwar, the site where Ganga descends to the plains from Himalayas.

Ujjain, located on the banks of Kshipra river.

Nashik, located on the banks of Godavari river.

There are four kinds of Kumbh Melas, Magh Mela, happens every year in the months of Jan-Feb at the Prayagraj, Ardh Kumbh, every 6 years on a rotational basis at Prayagraj & Haridwar, Purna Kumbh, every 12 years again on a rotational at the above mentioned 4 sites and Mahakumbh, every 144 years at the Triveni Sangam, Prayagraj, based on the rare celestial event of alignment of the Sun. Moon and Jupiter. This year it was special because of the rarest celestial event when 7 planets aligned in a perfect trajectory. The science behind Maha Kumbh includes astrology, astronomy, and ancient Indian knowledge of geography and geomagnetic forces. 

Astrology:

  • The timing of Maha Kumbh is based on the alignment of the Sun, Moon, and Jupiter.
  • When Jupiter enters Aquarius, the zodiac sign of Kumbh, and the Sun and Moon align, it’s time for the Maha Kumbh.
  • This rare celestial alignment is believed to create the perfect moment for the holy bath.

Astronomy:

  • The 12-year cycle of the Purna Kumbh is linked to the orbital period of Jupiter. 
  • Jupiter takes approximately 12 years to complete one revolution around the Sun. 

Geography & Geomagnetic forces:

  • The selection of Kumbh Mela sites reveals ancient India’s understanding of geography and geomagnetic forces.
  • These locations, often at river confluences, are believed to exhibit strong geomagnetic energy fields.

Ancient Indian knowledge: 

  • Ancient Indian sages identified the 12-year cycle of Jupiter long before modern science recognized it.

Other beliefs:

  • Immersion in the holy waters represents surrendering the ego and worldly attachments, fostering humility and spiritual transformation.

Mahakumbh Mela 2025

Over 55 crore people took a holy dip in the Triveni Sangam during the 2025 Maha Kumbh Mela in Prayagraj, Uttar Pradesh. This is the largest gathering in human history for any religious, cultural, or social event. The Maha Kumbh Mela began on January 13, 2025 and continued until February 26, 2025. The number of people who took a bath at the Triveni Sangam represents over 50% of India’s Sanatan Dharm followers. The footfall at the Hindu pilgrimage surpassed the population count of all countries except India and China. On the eve of Maghi Purnima, more than 2 crore people took a holy dip in Triveni Sangam, the confluence of Ganga, Yamuna and Saraswati River. There are no precedence of such gathering of people in the history of mankind.

Back to our journey…

We had our first stop at the Food King adjacent to the Agra Toll Plaza where we had tea and the egg sandwiches prepared by yours truly. After freshening up, we continued our journey, Tapas took the wheels, it was first time driving an automatic vehicle for him, I explained the basics to him. The route was quite simple, Noida-Greater Noida Expressway, Yamuna Expressway, Agra Inner Ring Road, Agra-Lucknow Expressway and NH19 all the way to Prayagraj via Kanpur bypass.

We experienced heavier than usual traffic on the road, the reason perhaps is the non-availability of train tickets and skyrocketing airfares to Prayagraj, many people had decided to take the roads, especially as the road conditions have improved over the last 10 years. Anyways, it was a good sign, travelling with larger numbers are reassuring and kills the boredom of the emptiness of driving vast stretch of the tract.

An hour or perhaps more on the Agra-Lucknow Expressway, we found the exit to NH19 towards Kanpur. We refilled the tank right after hitting the NH19 at a Reliance Petrol Station. We needed to use the restroom but it was too dirty for our senses. Moving further, we found a Dhaba with a sizeable number of vehicles stopping and decided to take the break. We ordered for stuffed parathas with curd and took out the Luchi-Aloor Torkari prepared by Sudipta, better-half of Tapas. I forgot to mention that she was travelling with us as well becoming the fifth gang-member.

Tapas continued to drive, he truly loves driving long distance especially on the hilly roads, but was enjoying the driving an automatic on the plains. After the tummy full eating, I felt a little lazy and dozed off while Tapas drove without any incident. The NH19, often passed through some townships and villages with volume of local traffic, slowing us down. We reached the Kanpur bypass around 1:30 pm and realised so many people like us are headed to the Mahakumbh bearing the flags and banners of Sanatan attached to their vehicle. It also started the congestions on the road and at places we were stalled for more than 30 minutes.

Around 4:30 pm, still miles away from Prayagraj, we felt hungry and stopped at the Muskan Palace, a Baratghar or Banquette Hall, converted to a restaurant for the Mahakumbh yatris on NH19. They were serving a variety of lentils with rice only, we ordered one of each, Chhole, Rajma, Arhar dal with rice. Deepika, even on her off day, makes each of them far tastier and filling and if she’s in a mood, the dishes become finger lickingly delicious!!

Tapas had driven quite a distance since morning, so I took over the wheels. The drive to Prayagraj was more or less smooth with few intermittent congestions and we reached the “Y” fork where the lefthand side road boldly announced “way to Sangam” and the righthand side road was heavily guarded by the UP Police, allowing fewer vehicles to go through. Indrajit, my friend has a contact named Sonu with whom we were in touch and he suggested we take the righthand side road. Further, he told us to tell the cops, if stopped, that we are headed towards the airport, I did that and was allowed through the barricaded road. Once on that road, we stopped as Sonu said that he is sending some kind of “pass” which turned out to be a train ticket to Nagpur, changing our narrative from airport to the railway station. Our next hurdle to enter the heart of the city came near the Nehru Park area which had been converted to a massive vehicle parking area. I was in the middle lane of the traffic and for a good purpose as the vehicles on the left were diverted to the parking and the right lane were asked to take a u-turn for some other parking. I was behind a Scorpio SUV that had a large sticker declaring “Bhadoria Family”, we had on our way seen a convoy of at least 15-20 cars/ SUV with same sticker and had thought them to be a marriage party. The Bhadoriya Family must be having some influence as it was allowed to go through the barricade, without looking at the cops, I quickly followed it crossing the barrier. Madhav was with me and did the trick. Thereafter, we had a free run through the city and came to a roundabout from where the Google Map asked us to take the second exit for our homestay, a mere 2 km away. The road was barricaded, the vehicles ahead of me were taking the u-turn and an ambulance waited patiently for the passage through the prohibited road. The cops were communicating through walkie-talkie on the loudspeaker. The control room advised the cops to open the gate for the ambulance and close down immediately. This was enough for the alert drivers to follow the ambulance in close proximity to pass through. Soon, we reached the location as advised by the homestay guy but could not see “Vinayak Homestay” board anywhere. Tapas and Pulak went to check and called up our contact. With his new direction we drove through a lane to reach the house, parking was in the open, leaving space enough for another car to pass. The facilities at the homestay was bare minimum, a bed with clean sheet and a blanket, no towels (thankfully, we all carried our own); at the time of booking, they showed us pictures of the room including bathroom which claimed existence of geysers, however out of the three rooms, only one had a geyser but non-functional. It was matter of one night stay, so we weren’t too hassled.

We quickly freshened up and changed into appropriate clothing for the holy dip at the Triveni Sangam. The homestay owner, showed us a quick getaway to the river banks, the maps showed 3.4 km or 15 minutes of walking. We were elated being so close to the destination. We reached the ghat and saw Ganga flowing in full glory to meet her sisters Yamuna & Saraswati, we followed her for another 3.5 km to the Triveni Sangam with at least a million more faithful.   

As we walked sedately towards the bathing ghats of Triveni Sangam, we came across humanity from all across the country speaking in variety of languages, some familiar, some alien. One thing was certain that the barrier of caste, creed and colour was non-existent at the Mahakumbh Mela, the assimilation of human race was complete.

We finally reached the bathing ghat, ready to take the dip in the holy water of the Sangam. Pulak, having taken the dip, few days back was ready for the repeat, Sudipta too was keen. Tapas, Gora and I had a look at the water and the people taking the dip in the confined bathing area, and stood back. I am no one to judge the belief and faith of the people but I could not convince myself to plunge into the pool of practically stagnated water; had the water been flowing freely like it was beyond the confines, I would have taken the dip. We bowed to the confluence of rivers and requested Pulak to splash the water on our head as a symbolic bath. Ironically, all the videos of the celebrities taking the holy dip shows free flowing rivers or perhaps the VVIP/VIP areas were differently curated than the one’s for the proletariat creating a class distinction, very contrary to the tenets or philosophy of the Mahakumbh, proving that money and power are more equal than faith.

We filled few bottles of the holy water for back home, the colour of the water was dark grey because of unwanted particles and muds; surprisingly, by morning, the water had become almost clear.

After more than 16000 steps or almost 12 km walking, we were hungry and looked for a decent place to have something. We found one in the market and ordered for Masala Dosa (only item available with minimal oil) and sat in the restaurant area. I am not commenting on the quality and taste of it but it did fill our hungry tummy.

We came back to the homestay, completely exhausted and crashed out.

DAY TWO (Wednesday, 19.02.2025)

We were all set for the second leg of our journey to Ranchi for the reunion with our dear friend Indrajit. We started from the homestay around 7 am and it took us an hour to negotiate through the city streets to reach the highway towards Varanasi.

We started around 7:30 am for the 525km journey to Ranchi expecting to cover it in 10.5 hours. We were grossly mistaken. It took us almost 1.5 hours to get out of the Prayagraj city. Once we hit the highway (NH19), the going was good, we could speed up to 110-115kmph on some stretches keeping our ETA at Ranchi at respectable time. While driving, we finished off the butter-jam sandwiches that we had for a situation where we get stranded without any amenities.

Around 11 am, we stopped at the Rajpoot Dhaba, more for using the restroom than eating. The place was chock-a-block with large number people stopping for breakfast, it took some 30 minutes to find a table for the 5 of us; we shared the large table with 5 other people, 4 ladies from Mangalore and their driver. They narrated the unprecedented rush in Varanasi, especially around the Kashi-Vishwanath temple, staying near the temple, they said that there wasn’t an inch space in the lane leading to the mandir. They were going to Prayagraj after visiting Kashi-Vishwanath. They had booked a tent at the Prayagraj, so I guess they had nice experience.

The scene at the entry points to Varanasi were no different from Prayagraj, all the entry points were completely shut, no vehicles were allowed inside the city. This resulted in haphazard parking of vehicles on the highway itself leaving very little space for other vehicles to pass. Tapas drove with admirable patience through the congestion. We hoped for smoother drive once we cross over to Bihar!!

The Bihar roads presented a different level of challenge. There’s ONLY ONE ROAD, NH19 that connects the Eastern part of the country to North, West and South and this is under renovation, widening, recarpeting and new flyovers for a smoother ride in the near future. But right now, there’s absolute chaos with narrow and unlaid service roads coupled with unruly traffic creating congestion every few kilometers. By the time we were crossing Aurangabad, the Sun was on its way down on the western horizon and soon it became dark with blazing headlights.

We drove on in complete darkness following the numerous diversions and negotiating the congestions till we left the NH19 for NH20 to Hazaribagh. The drive became easier and we were cruising through the Hazaribagh bypass towards Ranchi with new ETA of 11:05 pm. Nearer to Ranchi, the ghat section stirred up Topshe to drive at 100+ kmph; Sudipta and I told him to slow down as it was an unknown stretch for us, we were not sure what lay ahead. Upset at being curtailed, he felt offended and stopped communicating and driving at below 70kmph till we reached our destination.

We had shared our live location with Indrajit, he came up to the main road to guide us to his housing complex, Global Lavanya. Jagrata, his wife had prepared an elaborate banquette of typical Bengali cuisine for us. Once upon a time I had shared my desire to have typical Bengali food (my household being cosmopolitan, it is always a fusion food) and my friend and Bouthan went miles to fulfil my desire. I am and shall forever remain indebted to them for the love and affection they showered on us.

Note: The second and final part the RANCHI REUNION to follow soon…

Begun Bhaja, Mochar Ghonto, Sona Muger Dal, Lau-Shukto, Katla Machh Aloo-Kopi Diye, Sada Bhaat and Nolen Gurer Kshir

Posted on by Aranyascope

Once Upon A Time

Long time ago, at least 30-32 years, an incident happened that left an indelible mark in my memories, it was unbelievable but I being the witness can’t deny it. I am a student of science; I only believe in facts and logic but I couldn’t either disprove or prove it with logic or science. Let me elaborate and you, the reader take the call…

I had just graduated BSc (Hons) from college and as I was fascinated by the image of police, appeared, cleared and joined the police force as Sub Inspector. My first posting was at Digha as the second-in-command of the newly created police station under the SHO Pulak Roy.

In those days, Digha wasn’t like what it is today, yet to become a tourist hotspot, although the govt had decided to make it a tourist attraction and as a first step created a police station having jurisdiction of Digha, Ramnagar and Paniparul and some smaller towns besides the scattered villages. We would often go for a nightly round of the areas right from Ramnagar covering the district. It was mostly peaceful area with a rare fight amongst the neighbours and fewer incidents of theft. I was happy and enjoying my police duties.

I still remember, it was a Saturday and a new moon night, the surroundings were pitch dark, black and the stars were shining bright now but an hour back a heavy downpour has made the tarmacked road even more black. We were returning from Ramnagar to Digha on our nightly round. At the front of the vehicle, I was sitting in the middle between the driver and the SHO, Pulak Babu. At the rear, 4 armed constables were sitting and at least one of them had managed to doze off…snoring lightly. I looked at my watch, the radium dial confirmed the time to be exactly 2 am.  

The headlight of the jeep was cutting the darkness like a hot knife on butter, there was silence in the vehicle except light rhythmic snoring of the constable and sound coming from Pulak Sir as he kept his cigar burning by frequently puffing out the smoke.  

We would occasionally cross a sleepy village waking up the dogs who would bark aloud to warn the residents of our intrusion. The driver was expertly cruising at a decent speed.

Another village came up on the horizon, we will be soon pass by it waking up another set of street dogs. Suddenly, we saw a man standing in the middle of the road with raised hands as if asking us to stop. The driver angrily honked to make him clear the route but the man stood to his ground. As we close on the man, we could see that he was a villager in simple clothing. The driver stopped the jeep very close to him. Pulak Sir got out, irritated, about to admonish the man but before he could, the man started howling hysterically, “Murder… murder, Sahib, please come quickly before they run away.” The voice of the man sounded like it was coming from far although his lips were moving in sync.

Pulak Sir raised his hands to signal him to stop and asked, “Where, who has been murdered?”

I was observing the man, his eyes seemed absolutely still, cold and stoned, expressionless.

Without answering Pulak Sir, he said, almost whispering, “Come with me Sir, quickly, they might be at home still. Come quickly, follow me.” The man walked towards the village through the wild growth with ease, we followed him but strained to keep pace with him. The constables followed behind us while the driver remained with the jeep.

Pulak Sir whispered to me, “The man seems mysterious, be careful.” I was a bit shocked, as Pulak Sir spelt out my own thoughts. I took out my revolver and signalled the constables to be watchful and ready with their weapons. Pulak Sir had got the name of the man… Madan, a resident of the village.

The man continued through the path ignoring the obstacles and the muds created by recent downpour.

“Are you planning to murder us?” Pulak Sir asked Madan, sarcastically.

“What are you saying Sir? I am not capable of killing even a mosquito. Look we are here at the spot.” Madan pointed towards a banana tree and said, “Below that banana tree is the dead body. They have buried the body here couple of hours ago.”

“Who are they?” Pulak Sir demanded to know.

“They are 4 of them.”

“Please say the name of those people.” Pulak Sir asked, visibly irritated by Madan’s evading answer.

“Here Sir, below this tree.” I focussed my torch, the tree seemed to have been planted recently, the trunk of the tree is not firmly aligned with the ground and recent rain has loosened the soil around it. There were marks of footsteps and chunks of salt on the ground as well.

“Shall I dig out the body?” Madan started digging with his bare hands without waiting for the answer.

“What are you doing? Stop it. We will come back in the day time with proper equipment and witnesses and dig out the body.” Pulak Sir said. Madan stopped digging.

“You tell me the name of the culprits.” Pulak Sir asked again.

Instead of naming the murderers, Madan showed sudden urgency, “Please come with me Sir, they are still inside the house.” He was probably afraid that the culprits will run away.

Pulak Sir asked two of the constables to stay near the banana tree and rest to follow him.

“No need for them to stay here, I will ensure no one comes here.” Madan assured.

We followed Madan through the zigzag path of the village, one or two dogs barked after being disturbed of their sleep. Madan stopped in front of a single storey house pointing to it, he said, “They are all inside that room, all four of them.”

Pulak Sir signalled the constables to take guard around all the exits of the house. I went up to the door and knocked, “Open the door, you are surrounded by the police.” I could hear noises coming from inside the room, probably the goons are getting armed. I kicked the door open and entered along with Pulak Sir and Madan. There were four of them with knife and machete ready to attack us… but, wait a minute, they dropped their weapons at the sight of Madan and surrendered. The constables had the four men handcuffed.

“Let’s go and dig out the body.” He said looking at Madan.

We reached the spot where the banana tree was loosely placed on the ground leaning on the shoulder of another tree. “Madan, we need a mason to dig the soil and a witness as well.”

“No problem, Sir, I will go and get the mason and the Sarpanch for the witness.” Madan said and walked quickly into the darkness.

After a while, a man came with a spade, “Madan sent me to dig.”

“Where’s Madan?”

“He has gone to call the Sarpanch, Jagdish Babu.”

“He should not run away; we will need him to file the case.” Pulak Sir thought aloud.

“What case Sir?” asked the mason.

“You dig carefully. We have to take out the dead body in one piece.”

“What dead body Sir? I won’t touch any dead body at this hour.” The mason cried out.

“If you don’t dig out the body, I will put you in jail along with them.”

Reluctantly, the mason started digging again. Meanwhile, the eastern skies had lighted up indicating the imminent sunrise. Suddenly, the mason croaked unfathomable words and fainted.

At that very moment Jagdish Babu came panting, “Madan said that someone has been murdered and sent me here to identify the body.”

He looked at the dug out dead body, “O hell, what am I seeing?” He rubbed his eyes sharply and said, “This is the body of Madan… but how is that possible… he came to my house… I spoke to him…” He sat down overwhelmed by the turn of the event.

The murderers turned towards Pulak Sir and cried, “Please lock us up at the police station, Sir. Otherwise, the spirit of Madan will kill us. We admit to murdering him in a fit of anger.”

I still vividly remember the above incident even after so many years. I still don’t believe in paranormal but how do I explain what happened in a remote village of Digha…

Posted on by Aranyascope · 1 Comment

Notice

Gobindo Babu was sitting by the river Ganges when he saw his long serving servant dressed in all whites, fresh clean shirt and dhoti and wearing a white cap walk by him. The servant smiled at him as he passed his master. Gobindo Babu suddenly remembered that his servant had died recently. He called him, “Hey, you died recently, isn’t it? Am I hallucinating?”

“Yes Sir, there is no confusion, I am your deceased servant. I am now a Yamdoot. You see that person taking bath in the river, he will drown in a moment. I have come to take him with me.”

“Do Yamdoot wear such all-white dress? I thought they wear black clothes. You are joking with me.”

“The real Yamdoots wear this white uniform only.”

“You have been with me for many years, I have taken care of all your needs, hope you remember that. Can you do me a favour?”

“Yes Sir, you have been a benevolent master, how can I forget that? What favour do you want?”

“You will let me know in advance when my time on earth is nearing the end.”

“Okay Sir, I will let you know well in advance.” The servant said and took the drowned man with him.

Many years passed, Gobindo Babu, always at peace knowing that his ex-servant will let him know in advance of his death. His wife would often ask him to get the house renovated, or go on a pilgrimage but would always reply, “What’s the hurry, I will do all those things before I die. I am not dying any time soon, so relax.”

One day, Gobindo Babu woke up in the middle of night to find his servant in same white uniform standing by his bed. The servant was smiling at him. “When will you come to take me? I will finish all my pending works by then.” Gobindo Babu asked.

“I have come to take you now.” The servant replied with a smile.

Gobindo Babu got angry at his servant and shouted, “You rascal, didn’t I ask you to tell me in well in advance, the date you come to take me?”

“Sir, it is not upon me to come at will, I can come only when my current master, Yamraj ji orders me. But we did give you notices periodically, you ignored them.”

“When? How?”

“Sir, earlier you could eat anything plateful, but can you now? Then, earlier you never needed a specs for reading or otherwise but now need them badly at all times. You also take a handful of medicines morning-evening; you carry a stick while walking lest you fall down, you huff and puff climbing the stairs. All these are notices only which you ignored and now cursing me when I have come to take you with me at the end of your tenure on mother earth.”

Source: An adaptation of a Bengali short story of same name by renowned and respected author Shri Bimal Kar.    

Posted on by Aranyascope · 1 Comment

Tatai

It was end of October, Dr. Atunu Sen on earnest request of Dr. Mohan Lal had joined him and his wife Mrinalini for a weeklong stay at the latter’s ancestral home in Hazaribagh. Atanu himself is an ENT specialist while Dr. Mohan Lal is a renowned cardiologist. They have been friends since college days with many similar likes and habits except one, while Dr. Mohan Lal is a complete atheist, Dr. Atanu is a devout of Lord Vishnu and believes in existence of both god and ghosts. In fact, he is so afraid of the latter that all lights of his home are switched on even when sleeping at night!!

Dr. Mohan Lal’s ancestral home is huge, built on a land parcel of over 3 acres with beautiful landscaped lawns and many fruit bearing trees; the custard apple trees are full with ripened fruits. They got down at the Hazaribagh station, a 10-15-minutes’ walk to the home of Dr. Mohan Lal. The station road seemed narrower than the actual because of the vendors occupying the space on both sides of the road with their fares of vegetable, fruits and other home utilities. Behind the line of these vendors were other shops selling meat, fish and eggs. Mrinalini bought vegetables and fruits while Dr. Mohan Lal went to the meat shop buy chicken and fish.

Mrinalini handing over two bags of veggies and fruits to Atanu commented, “We will have to come here every morning to pick-up fresh vegetables and fruits.”

“Where else do plan to take us?” Atanu asked.

“We have come here to relax, no running around for next few days. Get charged for the hectic life back home.” Mrinalini replied with all seriousness.

“What about some sightseeing, going to a few touristy spots? Surely you don’t mean that we come here to shop groceries and vegetables only?”

Dr. Mohan Lal joined them, he had overheard their discussions, he spoke, “Atanu, there’s nothing to see here, only relax, eat, drink, walk around and when you get bored, go back home and to your work. And yes, you get to taste the best Jalebi and Rabri, here in this market. We will come back here to have the Jalebi-Rabri.”

The gate was opened by the caretaker-cum-gardener, Ramdas. He took the luggage and the shopping bags inside. There’s an outhouse close to the main building where he lives with his family. All through the year he tends to the lawns and maintains the house very efficiently. The front lawn was blooming with variety of flowers, the riot of colours and the fragrance made the place vibrant. They sat down there while Ramdas brought them tea and cookies.

Once the sun set over the horizon, the surroundings became very silent. In the afternoon, there were sounds of occasional vehicles and hawkers passing through the streets but now nothing, pin-drop silence. Atanu was feeling uneasy, being a city bred boy, he is more accustomed to the constant noise and honking sound of the city streets. He started probing, “What happens if some one is sick? Are there any hospital or clinic nearby?”

“None, there are no hospital or clinic here. People mostly wait patiently for the fever or cough to get over on its own, praying to the Almighty. If the patient becomes critical, they are taken to Dhanbad. Sometimes, doctors from Dhanbad or Ranchi come here to set up Medical Camps. I have heard that there are few young doctors in Ranchi who have formed an association called Ayurdad, who come here once a month to check on the patients and provide medication.” Dr. Mohan Lal informed.

“What about the crime scene? Are there any robbery, theft, murder reported in recent times?”

“Not that I know of, it may happen once in a while but nothing to worry.”

“And wild animals? You had mentioned that the forest is close to this property.”

“Yes, once in a while a fox or a leopard do stray over from the forest but nobody comes out from their homes at night. You play cricket, football, enjoy a picnic style eating out under the sun during the day, get inside after sun down, enjoy your drink, sing and dance, enjoy hearty dinner and sleep.”

Atanu looked outside through the glass pane of the window, he could see the half-moon behind the eucalyptus trees. The feint moonlight made the atmosphere a bit eerie, he felt goosebumps. Dr. Mohan Lal has been watching his friend and couldn’t resist teasing him, “Oh, I forgot to mention, you know, most of the houses are owned by people who have business or occupation in the cities like Dhanbad, Ranchi, Patna or even Kolkata, they come here once in a while, most of the time, houses are unoccupied, an ideal situation for the ghosts and spirits to inhabit.”

“Please don’t make jokes about ghosts. You know, I am scared of such things.”

“Then, I am sure they will show up to you.” Mrinalini teased Atanu.

“You mean, they exist in this house too?” Atanu was quite shaken.

“We have come after almost five years, the house was unoccupied, there’s a strong possibility that some of them may have taken shelter here.”

Atanu looked at Mrinalini and Dr. Mohan Lal suspiciously, he couldn’t make out if they’re serious or joking. He called out to Ramdas who came immediately.

“Are there ghosts here? And dacoits?”

“Dacoits don’t come here because there are hardly any tourists coming these days and locals don’t possess enough wealth to attract dacoities. They have gone away to other more lucrative areas. But yes, I have heard of paranormal activities in the vicinity. Sahib, you don’t worry, this house doesn’t have any spirits, good or bad.”

“The ghosts don’t come here, this area is populated, they prefer solitude. Most of them live on the other side of the forest, in Ratanpur.” Dr. Mohan Lal having heard the conversation, quipped.

Atanu kept the lights on at night, still had a fitful sleep. In the morning after freshening up and having tea-biscuit, they went to the market for fresh veggies and meat. They decided to have their breakfast at the famous Daroga Singh Kachoriwala where the dal-kachori is said to be the best in the region, they also make very crispy jalebi and creamy rabri.

Atanu had just put a piece of Kachori dipped in the aloo-masala when someone from his behind called out, “Hey, Atanu, how are you? When did you come?”

Atanu turned around to find Subroto Babu with his wife Kaberi and son Tatai coming his way.

“We came yesterday only. What about you, when did you come?”

“We have been here for a week now and getting bored. Nothing to see around, thinking about going back now. How long do you plan to stay?”

“We are here for another 4-5 days at least.”

“Thank God, let’s meet up for lunch or dinner, it would be nice to catch up… please share your mobile number, I will call you.”

“Yes, please give your mobile number, in case of any emergency, we can call someone we know.” Kaberi who was listening to their conversation, spoke up.

“Where are you putting up?” Atanu asked avoiding giving his number.

“We are just behind the forested area at Ratanpur, my grandpa’s house. It’s a 3-story big house in green and yellow colour façade. Why don’t you come with us now?” Kaberi informed.

“Sorry, I can’t come right now, I am with my friends but will come some other day.”

“Then give your number, I will call you to fix for lunch.” Subroto insisted.

Atanu had no option but share his mobile number with Subroto. They went away in their Suzuki Ciaz. Dr. Mohan Lal who has been listening to their chat, asked, “Who were they?”

“Oh, they are my neighbour back home.”

“You shouldn’t have given your number to them.” Mrinalini said but did not elaborate further.

“Yes, but he was insistent, wants to call me over for lunch at their house. It is strange because back home, they keep to themselves, not very friendly with the neighbours.”

“Where are they staying?”

“Ratanpur, at Kaberi’s grandpa’s home.”

“OMG, that area is not good, I have heard of many paranormal instances happening there. You must refuse their invite.” Mrinalini was concerned.

“Shall I tell them?”

“You can, but what’s the point? They probably know and we can’t go there to guard them… moreover, who can guard anyone against the spirits?”

“Let’s not talk about the unknowns. I won’t be able to sleep at night.” Atanu said with a nervous laugh.

“Okay, let’s not talk about them. But I have experienced the presence of the spirit in our house on an earlier visit. I won’t tell you where as we have to stay for few more days.” Dr. Mohan Lal winked at Mrinalini.

“You are a doctor yourself, man of science, why are you afraid of ghosts? Have you ever seen them?”

“Well, the ghosts don’t differentiate between doctors and common man, they attack anyways.”

“Only a female ghost, maybe a Petni or Shakchunni will be after you, they usually speak in nasal tone as they suffer from cold n cough, as an ENT specialist, you are their ideal choice.” Mrinalini teased.

They had a relaxing day, Mrinalini made Chilli Chicken and fish curry with mustard for lunch forcing Atanu to over eat. He slept the entire afternoon.

In the evening, they were chatting when Atanu’s mobile rang. He exclaimed, “It’s Subroto calling, hope he’s not calling me over for dinner now.”

“Brother, I am calling in distress, need your urgent help.” Subroto cried from the other end.

“What happened?”

“My son Tatai is running high fever, since we came back in the morning.”

“Yes, I remember, his eyes were watering and he was coughing too…”

“He has been like that for couple of days…”

“Give him a paracetamol, I will come in the morning but I am not carrying my medical equipment.”

“Have already given him paracetamol but it has had no effect.”

“Sir, please come now and check my son.” Kaberi spoke from behind.

“I don’t know how I can help, we have come here to relax and decided not to bring any medicine or medical equipment, not even my stethoscope. We have no plans to see any patient.”

“Your friend is a doctor too; he probably has a stethoscope.”

“No, even he is not carrying it.”

“Then, can we give him some other medicine?”

“But where will you get the medicine, there are hardly any chemist shop. I suggest, give him another paracetamol and wait for the morning to take him to Dhanbad.”

Subroto agreed and disconnected the phone. However, he called again after an hour or so, “Doctor, Tatai is bleeding from the nose and his temperature is very high. I am very scared.”

“Why?”

“Is it dengue? I have heard it could be fatal if not treated early.”

“It is possible.”

“Please come and check on him.”

“Why don’t you bring him here, you have a car…”

“I can’t, he is bleeding profusely, please come.”

Atanu was confused, “What to do?”

“Tell them to go back immediately, the kid won’t get proper treatment here.” Dr. Mohan Lal advised.

“But Subroto is in dire need, being a doctor, how can I refuse him…”

“It is getting late, how will you go there, we don’t have any vehicle and you are unlikely get a rickshaw to go there at this hour.” Mrinalini said.

“Then you have to pass by the forested area, you may encounter wild animals.” Dr. Mohan Lal added.

“Even if the wild animals don’t attack, the Petni and Shakchunni won’t spare him.” Mrinalini said.

Ramdas, working in the kitchen had heard them, he came out and said, “Saheb, I will take you there, I know the house quite well.”

“All the best. I had warned you about giving out your contact details.” Mrinalini spoke as Atanu left.

Atanu followed Ramdas who have been walking briskly. There were no street lights, only the light coming from the residences lit up the path faintly. Meanwhile, Subroto called up twice and urged him to speed up. Atanu, trying to keep pace with Ramdas, tripped over near the forest but got up quickly. Ramdas came to his rescue and guided him rest of the way.

“There is the house of Dutt Saheb.” Ramdas announced as they approached the big 3-story house.

“Thank the Lord. But what I am seeing, isn’t that Tatai standing at the gate?” Atanu spoke aloud.

“Yes, that’s true. Your friend must have tricked you to come here.” Ramdas said.

“Hey, Tatai, what are doing here? Where’s your father?”

“He is upstairs.”

“He said you are running high fever and bleeding from the nose…”

“I am absolutely fine. Dad easily gets scared and exaggerates… makes big issue of small things.”

Atanu and Ramdas went inside and climbed up to the first floor. He pushed open the bedroom door, Subroto and Kaberi were howling over the very still body of Tatai.

Atanu felt his blood draining out, he collapsed on the floor.

Posted on by Aranyascope

Maha Kumbh 2025

THE BIGGEST GATHERING OF HUMANITY ON THE PLANET EARTH IS THE LARGEST RELIGIOUS GATHERING OF HINDUS, THE FIRST COMMUNITY ON MOTHER EARTH.

It’s pure joy and ecstasy.

NO ANIMAL SCARIFICES, NO BLOODSHED, NO UNIFORM, NO VIOLENCE, NO POLITICS, NO CONVERSIONS, NO SECTS, NO SEGREGATION, NO TRADE, NO BUSINESS.

IT’S HINDUISM, ALL ENCOMPASSING.

Nowhere else HUMANS ever congregate(d) for a single event in such a number; be that religious, sports, war, funeral or festivity. It’s always been the KUMBH mela and this year it’s Maha Kumbh, which is celebrated every 144 years.

The world of statistics look with awe at the statistics; 400 million people over 44 days, over 15 million taking the holy dip on the first day, a temporary city across 4,000 hectares, 150,000 tents, 3,000 kitchens, 145,000 restrooms, with 40,000 security personnel, 2,700 AI-enabled cameras, etc. These are mind boggling statistics but is not what makes me wonder.

MY AWE IS NOT ABOUT MATERIALISM, STATISTICS OR PHYSICAL ASPECTS OF THIS EVENT.

It’s not about what our eyes can see. It’s not about size or numbers. What amazes me is (what we call ancient) the knowledge of the humanity’s connection with the universe.

It amazes me that it’s rituals are performed with reference to the alignment, positioning and timing of the celestial bodies in the universe (heavens) signifying human relationship with the Cosmos and its physical and spiritual effect on human destiny and future.

It has no power structure or political polity driving it. It’s indigenous to the faith. It’s not about an organised religion. It’s not about a hierarchy.

This Hindu Dharma’s understanding of the humanity’s relationship with the universe, from vegetation (under our feet) to the stars (in the milky way) is an evidence of the advanced knowledge in Hinduism which has extraterrestrial roots & connections.

The meditating Sadhus’ consciousness is able to reach frontiers beyond space & time. It breaks the illusion of duality of me & the universe.

BEYOND MATERIAL SCIENCE

I think today’s space travel through rockets is a primitive technology. Our physical bodies are not us. We don’t need to physically travel anywhere as once we understand that we are souls having a physical experience, from localised particles, we become infinite, part of the whole, present everywhere, as entangled particles exhibit; distance and time barriers lose existence. When we become pure consciousness; part of the divine light; timeless and formless.

It’s the awe when Sadhus of Himalayas and Quantum mechanics take a holy dip together in the vast ocean of knowledge. It’s not enough to say that Hinduism is aligned with nature. There is no duality; it’s nature itself. Being a Hindu is coming back to your natural state.

Nature is Hindu! Every living being is Hindu.🚩

(Collected)

Posted on by Aranyascope

The Roommate

Sometimes, truth is stranger than fiction.

Many years ago, while visiting my maternal uncle in Kolkata, I came across a news item in a Bengali newspaper, “A dreaded serial killer, Sikandar Baksh, after brutally killing a businessman of Bou Bazaar is absconding and police believe that he was hiding somewhere within the city only. They were hopeful of arresting him soon…” I read the news in passing and did not give much thought to it.

A few years later, after marrying off his daughter Mimi, my uncle suddenly passed away. It became a handful for my aunt to manage the large ancestral house, it was sold to a developer and she moved in the heart of Kolkata in a rented flat in Tollygunge, till her own flat in the vicinity gets ready.

My job as Marketing Manager took me across the country for short hauls including Kolkata but never for a long enough period to meet any relations, at best I could connect with them over a telephone call. I always spoke to my aunt over phone when I visited Kolkata but couldn’t visit her. Then, couple of years ago, an opportunity came when I had to extend my stay in the city over the weekend and I decided pay her a visit. So, on Sunday afternoon, I checked out of the hotel and went over to her house in Tollygunge.

My aunt was overwhelmed with joy seeing me. She hugged me and took me inside. It was a two-bedroom apartment, small but neat and clean. She asked me about my parents and siblings back home. And how’s my job and long I am in the city. The maid brought tea and snacks for us. She informed that the maid comes in the morning around 8am and leaves at 8pm after preparing the dinner, doesn’t stay overnight. While we were chatting, I could sense that my aunt was anxious about something, her body language suggested that she was under some kind of stress.

“What is it that you are feeling stressed?” I finally asked her.

“No, it’s nothing, I am not stressed but happy to see you after such a long time.” She tried to evade my question. I did not press further.

Later, after dinner, she asked me sleep in her room while she sleeps in the guest bedroom, “You, sleep in my room, I will take the other room.”

“No way, you sleep in your own bed, I will sleep in the guest room and it is a matter of one night only.” I refused her offer firmly.

“Okay, in case you need anything at night, wake me up.”

A sumptuous dinner and the comfortable king size bed soon put me to sleep. The Tollygunge area was infested with mosquitos because of many waterbodies and every household uses a mosquito net besides the repellents at night. Though the peak winter was gone, the nights still had some chill, so the mosquito net provided a bit of coziness that helped in sound sleep… only if one is not awakened by the sudden ringing of the mobile phone.

I was rudely woken up by the constant ringing of my mobile phone that I had kept on the bedside table along with my wristwatch and purse. It took me few moments to figure out where I am and where’s ringing sound coming from, and then few more to slide my hand out from the mosquito net. And then I got the shock that sent a chill through my spine… a black hairy hand holding my phone extended towards me… just the hand from the elbow to palm was visible. My throat became dry, I could hardly speak, mustering courage I shouted, “Who are you? What are you doing in my room?” But I guess only a throaty groan came out. Meanwhile, the phone had stopped ringing and the black hairy hand placed it back on the table as my aunt knocked on the door, “Bubai, are you okay? I heard some noise…”

I got out of the bed and opened the door to let aunt come inside. She switched on the light and examined the room, everything was in its place, nothing missing. At last, she said, “Did you had a bad dream? Because the sound you were making usually happens if you are having a nightmare.”

“Yes, aunty, probably it was a nightmare.” There was nothing else to explain otherwise. Moreover, I did not want to scare her unnecessarily.

She put on a night lamp and went back to her room. Though, I was a bit scared and kept searching the room in the low blue light of the lamp for the black hairy hand and the person that it belonged, but eventually sleep overpowered my anxiety. The night passed without any further disturbances. In the morning after breakfast, I took leave from my aunt promising to meet her again not knowing that was the last I have seen her alive.

My cousin, Mimi, herself an engineer had married a techie and settled in Bangalore, we kept in touch through social media and occasional telephone calls as life became busy with our involvement in our own family and career advancement. Even that became irregular to the point of just wishing each other on special occasion and festivals.

Last Sunday, I got a call from my cousin Mimi that her mother, my aunt had passed away and the last rites will be performed at Kolkata and she will be grateful if I could join them as I am the only relative, she has now from either side of her parents. I told her that I will finish my work on Monday and take the late evening flight to Kolkata.

I reached Dumdum around midnight, coming out from the airport found Sujoy (Mimi’s husband) waiting for me. It took us 40 minutes to reach Tollygunge, though I wanted to stay in a hotel, Mimi insisted that I stay with them, she actually emotionally blackmailed me to stay with them. Besides the three of them, Mimi, Sujoy and their son Rupam, the full-time housekeeper of my aunt were present when I reached. After chatting for a while, we retired for the day, I was directed to a guestroom when I realized that this is a bigger and different apartment than where I had last visited. I asked Mimi, “This is a different apartment, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is a different and bigger apartment than where you last stayed.”

“What happened? When did you buy this and why the change?”

“It’s a long story; I will tell you tomorrow but promise that you won’t make fun of it.”

I promised her not to make fun of her but became impatient to hear all about it.

During the day, we remained busy with arrangements for the last rites besides attending to visitors and relations who came to express their heartfelt condolences. At last, after dinner, I could get hold of Mimi and demanded to know the reason for shifting the house. We were sitting in the living room. Mimi went inside and came with a slim file, composing herself, she started narrating…

A few months after you visited mother, few unnatural things happened in that house, the part-time maid often complained to mother that whenever she went to the guest room to clean in the evening, she felt the presence of someone else in the room. Maa dismissed her saying it was all psychological and eventually told her to clean the room when daylight is still there. This helped to an extent but then even Maa could hear footsteps in the adjoining room whenever she woke up at night. She did not tell us or anyone else lest we feel distressed living far away from her. Then, Sujoy came to Kolkata on work and decided stay with her instead of the company guesthouse. She told him to take her room, while she sleeps in the guestroom but Sujoy flatly refused.

The first two nights passed peacefully, nothing untoward happened or Sujoy was too tired and slept soundly through the night. On the last night of his stay, he and Maa chatted quite late into the night. He tried reasoning with her to come and live with us in Bengaluru. She was adamant that she cannot go and live with her daughter, typical traditional mentality.

Mimi looked at Sujoy and said, “Why don’t you narrate the incidence yourself?”

Sujoy:

I was a little disturbed because, with age, Maa’s health was an issue but I could not dent her traditional thoughts. I kept tossing and turning, it took some time for me fall asleep. I don’t know how long I had slept but woke up as I felt someone is nudging my pillow and breathing heavily like when you experience nose block. I was sleepy, thought Maa is trying to wake me up needing some help. I opened my eyes and froze. A very dark muscular man with thick black moustache is looking at me angrily, his eyes were burning red. I tried get up but he forced me down, his black hairy hands started strangling me… he was saying something in a language I couldn’t understand. I gathered all my strength and pushed his hand away from my neck. In the sudden act of mine, the man lost his balance and fell backwards hitting the table, toppling it. I ran out of the room on to the veranda chanting Gayatri Mantra and taking deep breath. Once I had calmed down, gathering my wits, I came back to the room and switched on the light, the clock showed 4:45 am, only an hour away for sunrise. The table had indeed toppled, my phone, purse and the watch lay all over the floor. But there was no signs of any other person except a foul smell of rotting animal filling the room. I was surprised that with all such commotion and noise, Maa did not wake up. I took the chair outside, sitting on the veranda waited for the sunrise.

In the morning, I called up Mimi asking her to take the next flight to Kolkata without explaining the reason, called up my office to inform of my extended stay in the city for family emergency. I realized that Maa had been taking sleeping pills probably to avoid the nightly encounter with her roommate.

While having breakfast together, Maa suddenly pointed to my neck and said, “What are those blue marks on your neck? Tell me what happened in the night.” There was shock and terror writ on her face. I dismissed her fear saying I do get such marks not just in the neck but other parts of the body sometimes and it goes away on its own, the doctors have assured nothing to worry. By the look in her eyes, I knew she did not believe me.

I went to office to finish few urgent assignments and picked up Mimi from the airport. Maa was surprised and happy to see Mimi. Together, we put pressure on her to shift with us to Bengaluru immediately. Reluctantly, she agreed to go on a temporary basis till this apartment gets ready. She was with us in Bengaluru for six months and moved in this apartment. Mimi arranged for a full-time housekeeper to move-in with her. She stopped taking the sleeping pills and lived peacefully.  

Sujoy stopped and Mimi extended the slim file towards me. I opened it to find few newspaper cuttings inside. I started reading the news article from The Telegraph:

In a recent raid to a warehouse in Khidirpur, police have not only recovered huge quantities of drugs but have arrested two dreaded criminals having link to the still absconding serial killer Sikander Baksh. On sustained interrogation, the duo admitted being close associates of Sikander Baksh. Together, they had murdered the businessman from Bou Bazar and had taken shelter in an under-construction house in Tollygunge hiding from the police. There, they had an argument about sharing the loot and in the heat of the moment they had killed him and buried the body in that building.

The report further said that, police having secured the permission from the court had dug up the said house and retrieved the physical remains of a body. The DNA test confirmed it to be of Sikander Baksh.

At the end of the article, there were two photographs, a file photo of Sikander Baksh and that of the house from where the body was retrieved, the address plate next to the gate made me choke, it was the house where my aunt used live and I had spent one tormenting night.

I closed the file and returned it to Mimi. She looked at me questioningly for my comments. I decided to keep my experience with me. I still don’t know if it was real or just a bad dream, moreover, a closer has happened, so why rake up the past.