Soul of God (part-1)

23 July 1148 was the date when we all who were men put ourselves to the test and a test it would be for four days. That morning was like any other morning but for the shrieks of people abandoning the city, a rush of workmen to repair the outer walls the parts of the cracked gates, of cattle loose on the city streets and in general of total chaos. The ahdath militia, the brave defenders of Damascus, had assembled themselves outside the city gates and inside the city. They were calling on us to stop our fleeing and cowardice and stand boldly in front of the Christian oppressors.
It was at that moment did I see Al Findalawi for the first time standing by the square with his huge white beard and shaking his head to the Imam. He was old but strong, his eyes were gleaming and fists clenched. I went near the company to find that the mystic pleading before Al Findalawi. The holy Imam saw me and pointing to me he stated to Al Findalawi " Sire even these young bloods are leaving. We still have time. You must leave." The 71 year old lawyer looked at me and then to the Imam. "Halhuli I have never betrayed you.I have never betrayed the people I have served. This is my country and it has served me. How can you ask me to betray it ". "Damascus will not fall in a day and in any case at your age you dont stand a chance with those middle aged franks". The Imam's words had logic but it made no impact on Al Findalawi. Findalawi's perseverance and patriotism made me wonder what was it that i had planned to do. I had initially planned to leave the city in one of the last caravans after i had collected all my dues and i had made sure that my wife, parents and childen had already left for Mosul. Al Findalawi's resolve had a magnetic effect on me. His determination to fight for the city despite the knowledge that it was all alone in its defense made me feel ashamed of myself.
How could I leave the city now? I have been born here and it is here that I met my wife and got married. My parents also lived here as well. Today was more than anyday that Damascus needed the presence of its sons...No I could not abandon the city. My virtues would not let me. The ghosts of my ancestors would not let me.
I had followed the company of the Imam Al-Halhuli and lawyer Al Findalawi to the city hall. The Imam still trying to make sense of abandoning to the adamant Al Findalawi. In the hall the vizier and the commanders were chalking up the plans for the defense. Just then a messenger entered and gave us the latest details about the Christian army. It was forty thousand strong, had infantry supported by armoured cavalry, long bowmen and the dreaded seige engines from Ascalon. It had marched up the Wadi-Al-Ajam valley and was heading straight for Damascus. The messenger also stated that the Turkomen mercenaries were getting ready for an initial skirmish with the incoming enemy on the plains outside Kisawa. The vizier angered at the slow response of the Turkomen gave the order for an immediate attack.The messenger scurried away with the message followed with a scoff from the vizier. " With an army this size Damascus wont last a night. I had ordered these turk mercenaries to launch an immediate attack on the first sight of the enemy. But it seems these scoundrels have already lost the opportunity.Our only hope lies in the fact that they make these Christians believe that this part of the city is impregnable and our forces vast. Only then will the Christian infidels change route and attack on a part of the city where the walls are better suited to bear their seige weapons..". The Imam cut short the Vizier."Unur you are a loyal defender of Damascus. Allah will see to it that you be rewarded in this life or the next. And as for Damascus until Allah feels otherwise Damascus will be here. Have your faith upon him. I have prophesied that Damascus wont fall"."O holy Imam if only had you made this prophesy in the public square could then we have had a few more volunteer fighters and my mind a bit more relaxed.". The war of words between Vizier Unur and Al-Halhuli was getting hot. Suddenly Al-Findalawi stepped up from behind. He held my hand and said " If it so pleases both of you I will myself address this panicked public from the main square and if Allah wills we shall have a few more fighters and a safe night".
As we were arguing a commander stepped up and stated to the vizier a fact which all the while all of us had overlooked. He stated that as the Christian crusader army was still some way away from Damascus and it seemed like they would put up a seige it would do good to deprive them of the water by blocking all the irrigation canals and rivers and by putting up  a few men on the main road outside the walls. It was a plan but the volunteers we lacked , however not for long.
That afternoon if you had been at the main square of Damascus you would have been bewildered. Poem, prophesy, oration and patriotism were churned by Al-Findalawi and served to the scared people of Damascus who couldnt find their place on the last caravan. I had reconciled myself to  the fact that I wont be seeing my family,parents or friends again and now hearing Al-Findalawi's speech I felt it was the right decision. What would happen... we did not know. Whether we would live.... we did not know. Would Damascus and its citizens survive..... we had know clue. But we did know that from now on for every step the crusaders took it would be a step backwards. We did not resolve to live but to kill and get killed.

People.....

I often wonder about the people around me , their natures, behaviors and thought.I for one am mostly in disagreement with the general world  in and around me. It might be because I am in constant conflict and turmoil internally.
 I dont like to be hero worshipped and I dont worship any other individual in that way.So when I say that i dont like this particular individual suddenly the people around me, my very own friends and relatives , they change their previously amiable attitude and become hostile to me. The very example of this is perhaps my views of Harry Potter. For me its a good film , a very nice fantasy story but its not something I believe in. The very fact of this is because magic like that doesn't exist. When I say this in front of my Harry Potter and Daniel Radcliff crazed friends they look upon me as if I am the real world incarnation of the Dark Lord himself!.....People should be allowed to have differing views. My views are based on the fact which I have stated and we can debate upon our views.I cannot understand that as soon as I say I dont worship Harry Potter why do people's attitude towards me changes. This situation repeats itself when i say that i dont like a particular dude with whom my other friends have begun to have a very good rapport...I however do not say that my views are always correct and always right. I have had to go back on them several times. Whenever I have gone back on them people have generally laughed at me. Its I guess another nature of people which I dont understand. I personally cannot derive laughter until a situation is very funny. Maybe I take stuffs a bit too seriously...

Another thing I cannot understand is sharing. I have a friend who uses my stuffs as if they were his own and when i ask some of his, its like I have asked his hand in marriage. Although he gives me them but its like 1 minute later he's gotta have them back. Another aspect is this that my stuffs in other people's hands equates to their own stuffs in their own hands. They can do anything with it. Now my question is "WHY?"....I have emotions attached with my stuffs. I like the top plastic cover to be still glued with the top, I like the silica gel pouch which I got with the laptop and hence if you lose them I will frown. I like my pens because I have emotions associated with them ( The pens were the same ones with which I had given the previous exam or written my last letter etc ) and hence when you lose them feel bad. Stupid consoling words or your offer to buy me a new one or the practical logic that it had become very old and cracked dont work with me

My friends feel that I ask a lot of questions in class. My question is "what is your problem?". I have doubts i will ask questions, if you have them you do it as well. Why do you frown upon me and call me a nerd? People are very judgemental. I guess I also make judgements though I am learning not to by viewing the daily Brahma Kumari discourses on life.

I guess this cold morning I have written a lot about me. The last post also contained my views. This blog , i had intended to dedicate only for story telling. I guess I am deviating. So I hope to write more of the oddly timed stories which come to my mind and less of myself here. SORRY FOLKS!! 

The Return of the Prodigal Son

J.Ghosh was my great grandfather.He lived at 23,Harish Mukherjee street,Kolkata-53. He had been in the British Indian Army and then in the INA, but post independence he had been a stenographer at Hindusthan Communications. He died on 24th November 1996.This was all I knew when I entered my ancestral house after a gap of 3 years for that much time it had me taken to get possession of the place from the other claimants of the property.I wasn't very inclined to have it back but my father's last wish  that I should atleast get the house and all its belongings, if not stay there made me have it. My lawyer friend Chirayato Banerjee had fought tooth and nail for this and even with all his knowledge of Indian law, had taken him 3 years. Nonetheless with this new property in hand I wished to have a look at this place the way it was before everything was shifted to make way for its renovation.

I unlocked the 4 locks at the outer metal gate which had been put up to replace the wooden door when my grandfather had died.Then i went through the musty smelling alley that lead to the front door of the house.The path was covered with fallen leaves, empty plastic pouches,moss and of course cobwebs.When I reached the wooden front door i found it smeared with dust and in the dust i found a gigantic heart and inside it lay the words "SUDIPTO and SUMITA forever". Reading it i remembered the caretaker's words "Sahib, people climb the walls and go inside. Who knows what they do". Back then I had felt scared about it and this re-doubled my efforts to complete the litigation and secure the place for myself. But now I found it amusing. I remembered that when I was in college I used to do the same on the dust smeared car windows. I remembered holding Srijeeta and writing with my index finger " LOVE YOU FOREVER".

As I climbed the stairs all my past came back. My father while dying had held me close and asked me to get this house.I had'nt thought of it much then. A sick father in Belle Vue was more important and I had said "yes" almost instantly.Later  his body was brought here and taken up to the room where my grandfather used to stay. That was the first time I had entered his room as a grown man. As I went up to that same room and unbolted it, a gust of stale air greeted me. It was the welcome of the prodigal son who after spending all his money returns back to his family.

As I worked my way through the stuffs in the room I chanced upon the key to my grandfather's old rusty Almirah. I had never seen what was inside it. I had'nt bothered much . Opening it I found an ecosystem which was in complete harmony until a few moments ago when the entire earth gave way. A swarm of spiders, insects, a few lizards and several other creeps rushed out. There inside the almirah I saw whatever remained of my grandfather's possessions. As is the nature of the prodigal son ,I went straight for the locker. Inside it I saw 4 rusted bangles( my grandmother's perhaps) , a ring( dnt know who's) , "Lt. J GHOSH" engraved in on an old metal rectangle, lots of yellow unreadable documents, a couple of almost half eaten leather bound covers which was further covered with polythene and having books in them ( he must have wanted to protect them )and a dusty  and an eroded breast badge on which was written "Azad Hind" with an embedded animal which I could not decipher. Outside the locker were the remnants of his uniform and coats, lots of photographs which now were more paper than anything, old plastic  files, yellowed bills, death certificates and several other objects very neatly stacked but not protected from the insects. Looking at all these, for the first time I felt a sense of awe about the man that was once Lieutenant Jogeshwar Ghosh of the INA.

From the Heart

We are all humans in this world,
We all had the beginning
We all will have the end
Only the realization of a purpose
Obtaining which is an achievement
That is transient in time
Enjoyable only in this life
Accredited to lucky factors
Is what separates one man from another..
A lucky dog from the unlucky
The sick from the healthy
And the living from the dead
So what purpose are the big institutions
Models of conduct,
Equality, Liberty and Fraternity
and forms of governance..??

Without You

Without you there's no fun

Without you how will the morning come

Without you inside me there's no life

Without you there's only strife

Without you the reasons to sleep are none

Without you the beauty of the moon is all gone

Without you my pen has fallen silent

Without you all the flowers are spent

Without you my life's empty

Without you the heaven has lost its clarity

Without you i have not slept

Without you even the gods have wept!!

The story of the ring and the pendant-2

As more and more time passed Huarez came to be known as a healer and a preacher of love and harmony. However he never went back to his home town which he felt was no longer his own. The situation too in the country had deteriorated. The constant wars under the present ruler and his ambitions of making his capital the best in the region led to a severe financial crisis.The peaceful protests for food, clothes, shelter, reforms etc turned violent with mobs attacking all governmental properties and  houses of the rich. The army which had been armed and bred to fight against enemies now was turned towards its own people. This led to many officers and ordinary soldiers deserting the army to join with the protest movements. 

One day when Shirin and a few other noble ladies were playing cards at the ladies club, a mob of 70 men surrounded the house and started torching it. When they realised that the residents were all ladies they went in and raped and killed them. Not a single one survived.

When Alahgehra heard of this treacherous and heinous act he went back to the city and killed everyone whom he thought was involved including the nephew of the Governor who was the owner of the club. This news caused panic among all residents of the city. They began to term Alahgehra as the devil. However when he realised his crime he felt very sorry. But now where ever he went people just ran away from him. Even his best friends deserted him fearing that they would be targeted by the mobs.

The governor on his part persuaded the king to intervene and banish Alahgehra. When Alahgehra heard this news he broke. He could not come to terms with the fact that he had killed so many people or with the fact that the lands and the king whom he had served so diligently had now thrown him out. He re-called how many times he had saved his comrades on the battlefield and how many times he had single handed won battles and changed the course of wars. This questioning and counter questioning drove him mad. The next day he was put in a cage, taken to the border and thrown in the surrounding forests. They say nobody ever saw him again.

When Huarez came to know about the incidents happening in his city and that his beloved Shirin was dead, he rushed back to his home. There he took Shirin’s two surviving boys and calmed the residents. He met the governor who thanked him for coming to the rescue of the town. Huarez then took control of matters in his own hands. He persuaded the governor to make proper rationing of goods and use money only to procure goods from outside. Then he lectured the people on tolerance and asked them to disband their armed gangs and their routine attacks on governmental properties. After a month of lecturing, calming and preaching about love and tolerance order returned to the city.

The king ordered the same principles which restored calmness in Huarez’s home town be followed everywhere in the country. Soon the country was saved from a brutal uprising. However Huarez felt bad that he could not come early to save his favourite Shirin or his fellow countrymen. Seeking these answers he went on a pilgrimage. There the prophets did not bless him. Instead they hugged him saying that prophets do not bless each other. Huarez however pressed his questions to the holy men, who only responded that it was always in the bearer of the ring and the pendant. They advised Huarez to bring up the children of Shirin as if they were his own.

24 years later in the year of the bog Huarez died. He left behing a kingdom which prospered under his set up 30 guidance principles which every ruler, governor and administrator would have to follow. His sermons have been bound in a book which every citizen of the land and even abroad follow. And his sons grew up-one became a medicine man who could heal any wound and another a great teacher of arts.

The story of the ring and the pendant-1

A long time ago in the land of the Whitesheep there lived two lovers Huarez and Shirin. Their love was blessed by all who had heard about them. Even God blessed their love by manifesting strength in a pendant given by Huarez to Shirin and love in a ring given by Shirin to Huarez.

Huarez was a small built bent and weak fellow. He had no muscles in his arms or strength in his legs. He most of the time looked sick.However his size and looks never told how large his heart was or how strong his character was. In his presence the atmosphere was always amiable because he could not tolerate sadness. But he was a man and like all men he thought from his heart and not his mind.

Shirin on the other hand was as beautiful as beauty could make.Her long brown hair which curled round her ears, red lips, small nose and her beautiful amorous eyes brought fire in the hearts even of the oldest of men. A look at her figure from her white neck to her beautiful bossom , her curves and down below to her toes ensured riots to happen in her city. But alas Shirin was also a girl and like most other girls of her time she was shy, meek and helpful to all.

Looking at the young lovers the devil in his kingdom of hell sought to kill the love and make it his own. So he endowed a  young good looking man with the skill of strength and manifested himself in his heart. Then he chanced him to meet Shirin while she was at her daily work.

This man Alahgehra at first tried to seduce Shirin with his brute strength and ability to make love. However the good love between Shirin and Huarez repelled him. Then he tried a new technique, a skill learnt from the devil himself. He sowed suspicion in Shirin's heart.

As the devil would have liked it Shirin began to suspect Huarez with other women and Huarez suspected Shirin with Alahgehra. Soon quarrels ensued between the couple. One night in a fit of rage Huarez threw the ring infront of Shirin and left and the love deprived Shirin broke the pendant and in tears ran to the eager arms of Alahgehra the next day.

As time passed the sense of passion between Shirin and Alahgehra grew strong. The numerous apologies and crying of Huarez would now no longer ask Shirin to return. Now Shirin made love to Alahgehra every day. Not a moment passed when she didn't think about Alahgehra or his strong physique and manliness. She began to think that this was true love and unconditional love. Shirin's nature changed as well. The polite and meek Shirin had transformed herself into a strong and opinioned lady. She now listened to only  Alahgehra and in situations which did not require Alahgehra's opinion she did wat was best for herself. The devil realising that his work is done left the two people and returned to his land.

As more time passed Huarez gave up on his hopes of getting Shirin back. The loss had made him more sensitive towards the outside world. Although he still loved Shirin the worldly pleasures no longer gave him any joy. Now wherever he looked he saw miseries- corruption of the king's officials, people's protests brutally putdown by the governor, the hungry children stealing food and then getting caught and beaten, the dying men groaning and the insensitivity of the nobles. Huarez could not believe that the land in which he had belonged ever since he was a child was this land. In disgust and with a feeling of powerlessness against misery Huarez left his home town and began wandering all around trying his best to help and heal people.

Alahgehra too grew into a powerful warrior. Having Shirin made him powerful. His skills on the battlefield made him a legend. Whenever there was a crisis and men had to be killed Alahgehra would be called upon by the Generals. It seemed that he was god gifted in the art of battle. His personal wealth also increased. He had begun from a single piece of land but now he had an estate. However personally he became lonely. His long absence from his wife, his children and home made him feel sad and drew him towards other women. His affairs with women both cheap and of nobility were major gossip among all. However he thought differently. He felt that he had much to share when he returned home but when he came back his children pestered him for gifts and his wife only expressed herself at night and that too for trivial issues. He felt she never listened to him and so he was justified in having his affairs.

Shirin bore Alahgehra many children. She too grew more beautiful and was the envy of all the noble women. But in her heart she began to suspect Alahgehra during his long absences. She had forgotten about Huarez and her prime concern was to buy jewellery to look good infront of the noble women and her husband. She had completely cut herself off from the outside world as well and spent most of her time playing cards or buying costly gifts.