DEATH : a Mental Fear XVIII

Death ? - the greatest joke or a hoax
the end-game of a recycling plan of God
makes and breaks , -again builds
the integrated Unified play; unique , ever new
the indivisibe theme of unified 'Grand Design '!

Death ? - a false-hood or divulging trap
the seed hiding in fruit ripens at last
drops on earth again and only to evolve
the Time-Space engaged in the Magic- Play
and step by step it ever descends
by whim of MOTHER NATURE, with the Divine beyond
and even the Designer is helpless now
Each phase has to play by laid down-rule.

The sun , where rises , has to set there too
Divinity , the real play-wright ,- ever alone
with myriad ,myriad field of Conscious forms
of an eternal end-less Magic game
with terminal end-piece, - that we have named -
the DEATH . (first composed in Bengali on 3/08/2oo1 ; now in engish on 22/08/10)

MIGRATING HOMOSAPIEN-s -XVII

Learnt it first from the book of H.G Wells ( History of the World) that all men nomadic character . originating from Tropical Africa and then like current flow through rivers and tributeries and intermingling ever , changing coour and shape according to light exposure and geographical disposition. Long long before that I heard the simiar story in loca form from my Grand mother that about 4 generation back our fore fathers came to East Bengal ( Barisal) seeking better future and they settled in the viage called Sehanga in pirojpur subdivision of Barisa dDistrict, Not only that but she coud name the head of our forefather upto 8 generation upwards and which the modern educated society can not or care not to remember. any way I aso learnt that Ram ram basu who taught bengai to Wiiam carrey of Srirampore was our 8 or 9 step up forefather and our ancestral home was TAKI that is now in North Bengal bordering Bangladesh. So once we were 'Ghati' the teasing term for bengaees of west Bengal then we becamr 'Bangals' and then again fled to west Bengal by the result of Partition. And finally now an American Citizen with Duel citizenship.
I think H,G wels woud ove to bring out another famous Book if he learnt that a vilage boy of the remotest part of ruea India is also an American. Why not ! if Coumbus coud discover RED-INDIANS in America ! Yet now I am again back to the starting point of a circle and have setted back in Konnagar , Hoogly of West Bengal . So , i also represent the migration or nomadic character of human sttement or restlessness.!

MIGRATING HOMOSAPIEN-s -XVI

Learnt it first from the book of H.G Wells ( History of the World) that all men are of Npmadic character . Originating from Tropical Africa and then like current flow through rivers and tributeries and intermingling ever , changing colour and shape according to light- exposure and geographical disposition. Long long before that I heard the similar story form from my Grand mother that about 4 generation back our fore -fathers from Westen part of Bengal, came to East Bengal ( Barisal) seeking better future and they settled in the village called Sehangal in Pirozpur subdivision of Barisal dDistrict, Not only that but she could tell the names of our forefathers upto 8 generation upwards and which the modern educated society can not or care not to remember. Any way ,I also learnt that, - Ram ram basu who taught Bengali to William kerry of Srirampore was our 8 or 9 step -up forefather and our ancestral home was TAKI that is in North Bengal bordering Bangladesh. So once we were 'Ghati' the teasing term for Bengalees of west Bengal then we becamr 'Bangals' and then again fled to west Bengal by the result of Partition. And finally now an American Citizen with Duel citizenship.This is another capsule- story of our migration.
I think H,G wels would have to bring out another famous Book( Mark twain) if he learnt that a vilage boy of the remotest part of rural India is also an American. (Why not ! if Columbus could find - 'RED-INDIANS' in America !.)..... Back to the starting point of a circle now,I have,now, settled back in Konnagar , Hoogly ,of West Bengal, against the wil of my children though, now they also have liked the place or my choice) . So , I also represent the migration or nomadic character of human settlement or resttlement story.!

AUTOBIOGRAPHY : DEATH - LIFE ETC -XV

After that, as told, I slipped out from the lap of death four times at least.It was i) when I fell from a tree when I was about ten yrs old. ii] next was , when in Delhi [1962 ]I was caugt by live a.c (power)-current of a water-heater when I was alone in the house. (iii] Next one was during my young brother's marriage when I had a fight with a gang on train in a reserved car,( our seat occupid by a mafia . Wnen I challenged and fought ,( it was a looing & politically suppoted Gang - as revealed later in Police enquiry)and I was being thrown out of runnung train near AllahabadS[U.P]Rly Station. I was saved by providence , because the train already entered the station. . Next (IV] I was taken for dead after I was hit by a Bus and fell unconcious ( in C,R, Park, near my House..
I am still alive and kicking around with OCI status and nobody should find fault with Divinity if I am alive nor blame the king od Death telling that 'HE' did not try . .... Both egoistic and Science-prone people often think that our intelligence can manipulate the mode and time of our death. But with even some medical background, I believe, that -things are decided elsewhere than our tiny capacity. and ... 'there are more things in heaven and earth than that are dreamt of in your philosophy ' -_shakespeare. yet as I was born , -this body will die some day and the inside dweller i.e my Soul or real 'I' will rent a new shelter; O.k ? Let me come back on the track. So , I coild have died many times before but did not and survived every time , maybe, to have to write these blogss.

Autobiography : - Death Visitting Life -XIV

I was born lucky to experience .life and also Death. I was so excited to know from my garnd mother that I was almost dead when I was taken to the Canal by my unce who took me there for my burial. I was gasping, kept on a banana leaf and put on the ground where a pit was dug and my uncle then, alone, smoking a 'Hukka' and waiting and waiting for my last breath and I disobeying Yama Raja or king of death . even after an hour. At last, a litte after, the king of DEATH left feeling cheated. ! My uncle now, brought me back home.
My second meeting with Death,as grand mother told me , when I was six or seven yrs old and I went out alone and tried , perhaps , to measure the depth of the very big Pond ( District board)) in front of our home . As I learnt later, I must have been drowned for some time and then my body came up floating with back side up for the last sinking to the depth. ...amd just that was the pre-destined moment when my elder brother came back playing some where and seeing a floted 'something' - tried his aim on it with a piece of mud and sudenly ( like SATORI ) he started shouting -'ma --ma ...-....- pha.. its pha- ( 1st half of my name ) !
My grand mother was nearer and had reflex-skill or 6 Th. sense ! she came almost running, saw the 'floating thing' and jumped in water , rescued my water -filled body , put me , with my belly on her head and started , herself, revolving on the spot( even modern medicine can learn and train modern sophisticated ladies who are ony smart enough to weep in any emergency). And , then all my stored water in my lungs and belly came out and the King of Death went again,- dis-appointed.
Till I was 12 , I had two more appoinment with Death and uptil now I have had Eight. So even Yama Raja rejected me so many times or I offended Him so often and I could create lot of troubles in my life after Death it was better Death might have decided, that I was left here to suffer.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY : WHAT IS LIFE ? XIII

To me life is like a big Canvas bordered by a frame and holding within , a big Space-Time field of 80 -90 yrs . Even if one lives longer it is usually outside the zone of our memory field. And to me, Experience is the real Life. Books , informations , professional status, wealth are but auxillary or accessories.
I am so proud ( not egoistic) of my experiences in life . I was a real Rural boy in the remote corner of Bengal,was free like a bird , wild ike a deer , no bag of books on my shoulder,(cf: modern time) half the day , I was on trees picking (sometimes stealing) fruits , or swiming in pond or fishing or playng with marbles or tops and never wearing shoes or dressing up like painted Models
When I came to the district town ( Barisal ) to join Class Ix( B.M school) I experienced a big change and thought that Barisal must be one of the biggest Cities of the WORLD . Soon in two years,- Partition of India and Bengal threw me on a bigger Metropolis called CALCUTTA , after - seeing and being, first, in a TRAIN ! I reached Calcutta and was over-joyed being first in a Tram -car that speeded on land . Then I,a refugee boy, was shetered in a place where , we,5 persons lived in one room at Benia Toa lane on Harison Road ( Now Mahatma Gandhi road). The chages and experiences were great and shuffling so fast that I felt too excited to take stock of all the treasure-worlds scattered before me to fill up my school-leaving life ! And it was the Post -Famine and 'Free-India' period with communal kiling -sport-'. And also , a time in my life, when my Mother -land was butchered into two parts and I as a run -away 'Refugee -boy' searching for my place in LIFE.

A UTOBIOGRAPHY : Which ones are Love ? - XII

WHICH ONES ARE LOVE ?

I love my parents /I Love my children / love my wife / love my brother / love my friend /love the statue of Liberty - OR I love a friend who happens to be a lady OR
I love hunting / love drinking/ l love flirtinfg/ love bluffing / love gambling ..... OR... what is LOVE in aesthetic sense ? !
What is really LOVE and in how many ways can it be expressed? And what was the fault of a married lady who expressed that she loved me ! Can not a married woman love the qualities in another man Or do all love has the same meaning - Sex ? Then how does a mother love her child or a married woman love her own brother or father. This complex question was put to me by the same Lady when the storm was turmoiling us and I could not reply.
To me the meaning of 'love' is hidden in the reversal of the word or EVOL or evolving of the soul towards higher plane of Cosciousness. But the social Stigma and sense has degraded so much in sensual world that the real meaning of LOVE is lost everywhere. I gave up my Medical Speciaity after retirement and took up poetry and visual Art as the way of my conscious evolvement for the rest of life span. My wife is dearest to me and I love her most as a husband,. but does that mean that I can not estabish friendship with a lady who is versatile in the language of my choice and also good in poetry. And if we sit together for an hour and talk on Art and literature , then, is it that the whole fabric of Social culture get putrified ? Does a man and a woman , if they meet, have only one channel of expression - sex? My god!; is it 21st century or is it still a reproductive biological vital world without evolving consciousness !. ...And ...I don't know yet at least, from my own experience in life. And I am still pondering on - what is ife and what is Love !? !?.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY : Paradise Lost! -XI

Came back again to U.S.A of my iving for last 10 years and started adjusting to new conditions . I was now 72 yrs and a U.S.A citizen and all my children were now in U.S.A and we two , old couple, were living in the home of my son in Delaware, near a Golf -club Lake with picturasque surroundings . Yet U.S.A was not a right place for old couple like us and felt , easiy, like up-rooted tree on indifferent Soil, in late life. I remembered the old lines of a poem : ' All dressed up and no where to go '.
My wife was a very cool type while I, always on changing vibration and frequency . I gave up Medicine for love of poetry, painting and wood-sculpture. and thought myself lucky to have a friend, at ast, who was a poet herself and I built up dreams to talk and talk to her on poetry , painting and art for the rest of ife, even when away from India. But things now happened so differenty after the recent episode! My wife preffered silence even in that of our lony iving with our sons and daughter living in their own places . I always wanted to invent ideas and expresss thoughts she ,now, was more within zone of silence. I could not ,even, enter into a dialogue( she was so upset and angree) to convince her that I did nothing wrong and never betrayed. Silence is the worst barrier in field of communication and I was also adament , for - I knew I did much better than even Vishwamitra ( the mythological Deva with Menaka.)... . So time passed by in U.S.A where I lived like an exile except the fact that all my family members were there but no scope to express myself. Of course the computer was my best friend and my chidren tried their best , to keep me happy. But my happiness lay in the field of creative culture not entertainment or iving in comfort.
I was filling up space after space, pages after pages on Poetry.com and even got an Editor's chaice award ( bronze medal) . I wrote on Geeta , on Bible , on Islam, on Kathamrita and what not. I took up Cosmology as my favourite hobby since I came to U.S.A and had read Upanishads and searched for co-relation and found some and was excited , even in depression. I finished a few books (from Dirac to Ed.witten and 'Strings') and compared them with yogavashishtha & Atma Geeta and strated putting them on Blogs.
In short, I felt defeated and thrown down but I was lifting myself up and fighting back though I was losing on both worlds of my friendship and loving reation with my wife.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY : What was it , Love ? -X

2001 -july ; The Builder completed the building in C.R park ,Delhi and I and my wife flew back from U.S.A for the hand -over of our flat. We saw the building while coming to C.R park from I. G Air-Port and both liked the buiding. The hand over was complete and we shifted back to our old place . For seven days, I went to Calcutta to meet my friends ,relatives and regarding pubication of my next book. I went to the college of that friend to meet her. I was well received by college staff and when she came out we went down to a park to talk about poetry , all the things we could remember and loved in ife. There was an insect crawling on my shirt . she tried to pick it up and I reminded her of our declared promise. She almost laughed oud and over -ruled.
I was already one more year older . She too pleaded for accepting the pre-destined fate and turmoil that affected our friendship, and to help the healing for both of our families. Her son was now for Medical studies. We did not know how to draw the curtain ! I was against it as I felt there was nothing wrong in our friendship but she wanted to end our meering in future for the sake of peace for both famiies.
Next day I went to Kamar Pukur ,the birth place of Sri Ramakrishna and also visited Jairam bati the birth place of Sarada ma and came back and left for Delhi the very day . She proposed for coming to Station but I advised her not to . And she advised me , again to draw the end line some where now to save and help both families. I rebelled and told - if I know I am not doing anything mean why should I submit to any situation or, - what should I care for others' concusions? I was even, ready to meet her husband and children to stand the test. She advised me instead to win over first my wife as she was the helpless sufferer without knowing that we were pure friends and with no ill design or motive . I came back to Delhi.
The storm calmed down but clouds were hanging thick on the land of UN-certainty !

AUTO-BIOGRAPHY : What was it , - Love ? -IX

So life is ike that and designed not by us but somewhere in Space or vibration- Field by some supreme Designer. Maybe , according to Modern Cosmology there are other planes of worlds where things happened other-wise; where the sister of my eldest brother's wife really waited 5 years and I had kept my promise or in another Field where there came no storm and the sky and space was so vast and cerulean blue and I was still the friend to my wife and son. But in the present set-up the storm came like in Greek tragedy without fault of any one and even my dearest son who was my best friend was a witness. It happened this way:
I came back to Delhi after 3-4 days and she( my poet-friend) insisted and came to the Railway station to see me off on my departure in Rajdhani express. I stayed about 2 wks more in India and flew back to U.S.A where my wife was and we both were living in our son's house in Delaware( Our son was then in Chcago , settled there after marriage) and our daughter was within 4 miles and looked after us.
Naturally we would talk on phone and it was 10 hours time- gap between India and U.S.A . And one day it was an E- mail conversation and there was a block . My son who came from Chicago for a week, was down stairs and I sought his help. Like the play of Providence , her message in the end jumped out,just then and her words were -'I love you ' and my son looked at me, smiled and joked and I was caught 'red- handed' of course ! I explained our poetic and Platonic relation to him . He knew that I never lied and accepted after I told that she wrote beautiful poems and we were friends and never on physical level but on Platonic wave -length. On the break-fast table my son made comments in lighter vein to his mother, injecting humour . And it seemed o.k for some time but the cloud on her face gathered dark and deep. Next day I told the other side about this unhappy incident and was surprized to learn that 'same thing' happened on computer-screen with her son there ,helping her. I wondered and wondered without light . It must be providence or pre-destination . Or I don't know how to explain !
For next one or two weeks , I had great 'Depression ' and wrote a poem on it. I asked her ,- how she was facing it /, she told ,- her son saved her and did not tell his father after listening to his mother's defense urguments ; 'I love you son , I love my husband , I love my mother and if I love a friend how am I a spoilt mother to you. She won her case but I was not lucky. My son left for Chicago in 2 days and we were two devastated sufferers on the stage where I was the worst villain and she the 'cheated soul '!

AUTOBIOGRAPHY : What was it , - Love ? -VIII

It was kennedys time in U.S.A and Kriushchev's leader-ship in USSR and Cold WAR that forced me to think fast. The impending Issue of Nuclear War was looming large ! wWe were sure that we could die any day by the mis-click of a Nuclear switch and the despair was on almost every informed face . And I wanted to get married , for I wanted to experience life before I died and went to Heaven or Hell,- though both had the same repulsion,then, in me. I was between 26 & 28 ; my parents were not sitting idle and I had no specific demand or choice.
When I was fresh in Medical college my eldest brother was married and youuger sister of his wife was a senior level school girl, beautiful ,daringly bold and reminded me of 'Delailah' of the famous film 'Samson and Delailah' which I saw a few times already, by seling my blood in Blood Bank. I was just an easy prey to her bold jestures but in those days , it was not easy to come close even to relative-girls in our orthodox families. We were in Anid-Blyton phase of Romantic spirit without anymore allowance in oriental set-up of i950s. My brother's In-Laws -side was eager to the prospect of getting me too as a son-in -law (doctor-candidate)and my sister-in law had ,perhaps,initiated this plan . Time rolled by and in theoretical phase of Romantic spirit ,without physical intimacy. Now I was in my final year and they were shifting to Jabbalpore ....and ... one day she came with my eldest brother to my Medical College Hostel to extract my readiness/promise to marry her soon or tell my intention straight.I liked her courage,( UN-thinkabe in those days of Strict Cosevative middle -cass society).
Now I was reborn in me and told her that if she could wait until I passed the final and then did the internship and house -job and got a job, she gets my promise or word of honour ( I always keep my word & promise and everyone in my family knows) but that was a long range - promise of 4-5 years ahead and .... my brother and she walked down the stairs and I looked down to wards a receding 'Lost possibiity '. Soon I learnt that her engagement was almost finaised. Thus the phase ended and she got married within a year or two. But if she could and did wait , I would have kept my promise and that, even my Eldest brother knew very well.
So life & loneliness ,studies with battles in life went on until the next phase in 1960.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY : What was it , -Love ? -VII

An unknown feeling was engulfing me . Feeling like, - some ivisible force is pushing me outward with my doors now locked behind. or some field -force designing my destination and I am no more the captain of my own ship,
Like Bernard Shaw's Preface of his famous 'Plays ', the premise of my story is getting longer but I can't help.
In my young days, I wanted to be one like swami Vivekananda .That was like a cripple trying to climb over the tallest mountain . I read Geeta and tried Yoga, a few months, then felt - that I was not made that way but read good lots on Spirituality amd life and works of Swami Vevekananda. I had some good memory and even recited a lot , any time I got a chance. It so happened that without being, even, sincere I got the Frst Division in I.Sc exam too and my father decided my destination by telling me to apply evrywhere - Presidency , Medical college , Engineering and what not! I did not bother a bit.I was so happy with my aim-less journey minus ambition. And ..... yet I became a M.B.B.S doctor and did not know then -why ? !
Then I came to Delhi where my father had his Lodging & boarding house business that fed us and I joined my house -job in Irwin HOspital, Delhi, where a rural youth like me metamorphosed into a smart young man. and I was not any more the docile fool of earlier days.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY : What was it , -Love ? -VI

After about three months she was feeling deserted and wanted to come to Delhi and I was feeing lonely too , struggling against current, with my hard work. She came . We lived so happily under my parents financial support and with my brother's family too. Soon,I felt the weight of the 'last straw' on a Camel's back in financial sense and I discarded the hope of being a Cardiologist , left the study , took up a Central Govt job ,rented a two room shelter and shifted .My earning was now Rs 473/= per month ,spending Rs 80/= then in six month- Rs 130 /= pm. for a better shelter.
So there was nothing shiny in my achievements as worth mentioning but I felt I was a free man of 31 yrs of age , always ambitious but without hope of achieving anything in life.
My teachers were sad and inflated me with the opinion that my thesis was so good and many pubications could come out of it But their opinions too ended like failures of mine . And I wanted to experience life rather than a shining success. I was living and experiencing a Life that could not be found in books or prospects of Medical specialities.
I was a happy man who , as a boy , lived in a remote villege and was now struggling to survive and climb , in Capital City of India.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY : What was it , - Love ? -V

I was already 30 + then, had a earthly physical body and was not born to be a Saint. Soon after the thesis, I felt empty and wanted some one in life and that photo of that girl haunted me and I wanted to find out if the sacrifice of a Sofa-Set was worth to balance the gain. .... I came to Calcutta met her in their hosue in front of her mother , saw their , poor financial state by looking at the asbestos roof and cracked wall of the house, came back ,struggled with myself (neither we,- were rich) for quite sometimes and decided to be different' ....and the marriage happened against the will of my parents but with their permission ( for I decalred - I would remain a bachelor for life), -otherwise ).
The marriage happened in an un-usual way as I refused to have a decorated Car for the Groom and also refused to wear a 'Shola-Topi(' Mukut' or crown ) and my parents knew that I was somtimes obsitinate beyond reasoning.
There was an attempt to disrupt my obstinacy with flying letters and gossip of stainted character of both of us . Nothing worked and I got Married and came back in 4 days to Delhi I did not or could not ceebrate the 'Honey-Moon),leaving my wife in Calcutta with my parents and to join my post-Graduate studies with Rs 150/= a month which did not allow me to bring my wife to my side even in those days of 1960s.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY : What was it , -Love ? -iv

Within next 4 days I had to come to Delhi and I insisted to meet her at her college in front of her colleagues and she agreed. We had even 2 or 3 Taxi- drive sojourn. But one thing we promised together that we will be friends and shall not touch each other in physical passion and we both respected and kept that promise in-spite of storms ahead.
THE STORM

And the storm came ! But even Greek Tragedies need a BUILD - UP and all events in life or outside has its roots beyond. The GEETA Expounds that -' everything that manifests on perceptual Universe comes out of a UN-manifested Root beyond ( geeta -Sl 8/18).
And Greek tragedy tells that real tragedies need neither hero nor villain , for - 'we all are victims of situatuons' - G.B.S.
I was married in 1960, when I was doing my theisis in M.D with Cent Govt Schoarship of Rs 150/= per month and our marrauge was not a love marriage. I liked the face of my wife in a photo which was sent to me after my parents approved and the proposed marriage broke down on the issue of betrothal- gifts (not dowry). My would be father in law was an engineer and suddeny was ill , having hard time . My parents also had no demand but my being a rare specimen of success as M.B.B.S doctor ,in an ordinary family, from a remote vilage set-up to lift me up in my relatives' eyes.
And after the famous famine and more famous Partition ,I came to calcutta as a refugee boy . That inspired our close reatives and influenced my father who was a Boarding -Hose owner in Delhi and while the bride's side had rich heritage and my would be in-law an engineer graduated from England. So the marriage proposal broke down on the issue of one Sofa-set which they ,found beyond their means or principle to provode. So, my chance of getting married fell back to Square one and I got busy with my thesis paper, took the event as a small peice of 'Pradise Lost'.

AUTO-BIOGRAPHY : What was it , - Love ? -III

She came in the afternoon with her books . and we sat ont he floor, on a mat and started talking about poetry. As the host had no interest in peetry we two were both speakers and isteners. Of course, as my nature was, I was talking more, trying to prove my worth in a field that was her domain. I recited a long poem of mine and found her wiping off her tears. I never could think that she was, emotionally so soft. I was ,a bit, confused and uncertain . Anyway time slipped fast and it was deep evening out side. The host was around or outside and was getting ready to go for a Puja in neighbour's house . For next ten minutes they both weere discussing how she should go home that was half a mile far. They wee discussing it loud without deciding . I did not know that the servant in the house was not found fit for the job ( as this was my second of the short visits) . At last , as courtsey demanded,I offered to escort her and they both agreed, to my surprise.
We came out on the road and were walking and then I could not help asking - why she wept listening to my poetry recital. She replied straight and clear - 'I don't know'.
That was the catch. We talked and walked ; walked and talked and then betrayed our stand that we liked each other. She asked me about my wife and I told. I asked her about her husband, she told that she could not have a bette rhusband ! And we were merged in silence for some time and admitted that we were on a bump ...... At last I gathered my soul and told - 'I have my weaknesses but see, I am not born to destroy a good husband's family and you ?. She courageously looked at me , smiled and asked -what will your wife think , if she knows about our liking each other . I took some times and told - I don't know but we have managed to sail together so long, for more than 40 years... And we walked easy in silence and darkess around and reached her house, hand in hand and on my request.

AUTO-BIOGRAPHY: What was it , - love ? -II

WHAT WAS IT , -LOVE ? II

After lunch we sat together and talked about Cacutta , Delhi , C R.park and what not! Naturally the pleasant surprise of her being a lecturer on bengali and her being also a poet raised lot of interest in me and the host's eloquence and lavish praise of me in Medicine , Visual Art and poetry, including my exhibitions and pubished books, coloured my position and poise so much that I had to recite a poem of mine and also presented a copy of my book. The incidence was nothing special and so many times in my journey through life, similar things happened with me.elsewhere, and must have happened with others of similar job and hobbies,
That was that and next morning the host was out and I got a phone call from from this lady asking me all pleasant question of my poetry books, pubications and I , also, wanted to know about her latest poems etc. ...Nothing new happened for one or two days except my personal habit of walking in the morning for more than an hour and scan the area around . It so happened that , in my long walk , once I covered her area also and mentioned it to her . She was surprised and got interested to know if it was real and when I gave a good description of the place, she was audibly happy and thanked me for visiting their place and invited me to visit their house if I went that side again. She had two children and both in their higher secondary standard.. Next day I had to visit a town 20 miles far and her house was on the way . As she wanted other copies of my books, I carried them and visited her place , I met her husband first , introduced mysef and handed over to him the books telling him all the reason of my visit. He was so nice and kind and took me inside , introduced me to his mother and requested me to take a seat ant went in to inform his wife. She came out soon without cosmetic- or ad-ups (I liked that) and the books were then given to her. Within four or five minutes and before I left for my fixed appointment I asked her to come, that afternoon, with her books of poems for a litrary sitting along with the host, all talks were in front of her husband who , it seemed approved all with magnificent smile and approval, And I stepped out and she walked upto the Rickshaw stand.

AUTO-BIOGRAPHY: What was it , -Love ? - I-

What was it , - love ?
It was 21st Century and I was aging more between 70 and 72 ( 2 years span between my my recorded and actual age.).I was living in USA with my family and a builder was constructing a 4-floor buiding in C.R .Park . Dehi, India , demolishing my three-decade old house and my belongings shifted to a rented groud floor Flat in F-block of CRpark.I came to India - alone for a moth's social visit and to know about the mode & speed of construction' on my plot.
It was April -time and I made a 7-days visit to calcutta as a guest to a lady who was a teacher, a friend of my wife and our tenant , all at the same time. I reached Calcutta by Rajdhani by 11-30 am, took the taxi and reached Salt Lake at about 1 pm. ..found the beautiful house ..got down and rang the bell. ...'who is it ? ' was the querey from with in and the response - ' decoit'- my old habit- response . She was iving there alone , a widow and her son in USA..She opened the window saw me and made a 'sweet -soft laugh' and said - wel come Dr. basu.'...there was another faminine voice beyond my sight ( may be a friend) .The house-keeper , a lady, unocked the gate and I walked straight to my room where I was once before for 2-3 days... And pushing in my carry-on luggage somewhere in the room and in a few minutes came out to meet my wiffe's friend ,our tenant ,and always -helpful lady for 12 years. After a few minutes & exchanges of informations she adressed the lady whose voice I heard at the gate and asked her to coome out.....And she came out , a lady of 40+. , soft and light Indian tropical skin (light -tanned) and spectacle. ' she is ...---(name) and like my daughter', a lecturer in Begali in -----------College and heard a lot from me about you'. We laughed in chorus said 'namashker' and with instant interest, as my habit enquired ---You are a Lecturer in Bengai, my gracious god, -what a good luck for me to know , for I am a literary-addict and must have heard from her (host) that I am a quack doctor . The host protested loud with gesture and told - 'she knows well about what you are and that you are a poet and artist too . and there wa a soft chorus of laughter from all sides ,
The host immediately ordered 'enough time reamins to talk more . Now take your bath ant get ready for lunch ..we all are hungry '' That was an apt decision and I got up from my seat and went to my room as i was really hungry.

SILENCE

It speaks so loud -
-sometimes
as if nothing else remauns around
or beyond
and I take a dive within me
to find
who you are and -
where from do you speak
within me
and to know
how to respond alike
( Composed just now)

THE SKY

Who made it ! - and how ?
So cerulean transparent blue for my eyes
yet so jet- black all beyond
enclosing Erernity
with Dirac's Nothingness
and over more
within billions and billions of distant stars
Light-years far
hanging in Space by themselves

Only awe and dumb silence
within me
bends down , like prayer
to know, -
Thy magic game
and how could you make it grow
with your Time and Space !{just composed )

ANSWERING HAWKING

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 2010
COSMIC SONG or GRAND DESIGN
"Eimentary watson , - Elimentary" -Sherock holmre.
'Grand Design ' is absurd without A DESIGNER or FIRST CAUSE, Just as Homosapien would be ABSENT without the First African Mother; yet the succeeding generations breed on with the GENETIC INVOLVEMENT OF THE FIRST AFRICAN MOTHER ( FIRST cCAUSE) and we are multiplying !.
'Brief History of the World' ( Grand Design) needed the Grand DESIGNER, Stephen Hawking, or the First Cause, while the subsequent printings and Editions are done without his further actions because he is himelf involved in it ( books are Breeding Like Rats).
So ! Hawking is right halfway but wrong if he declares 'The GRAND DESIGN ' without the First DESIGNER . As, BRIEf HISTORY of the World becomes Absurd without the first involment of Hawking ( for copy right).
So the REALITY is INVOLVMENT AND MANIFESTATION and not CREATION. HAWKING did not Create the material supply of the Book i.e Paper, Print, Ink, press, Ads etc, etc, etc .For Creation , one has to borrow from Outside.
Now His Book is 'breeding like Rats' and the message in the book would be just aphabets and dots without his first INVOLVEMENT.
So it is 'Eementary watson'!
The First Cause (without belly Button ) didnot CREATE the Universe but got involved and became MANIFESTED like your electrons in an atom or 'Strings' with its Mother-energy. That much simple and yet most difficult !
posted by Phani Basu @ 4:30 AM 0 comments

TEMPES - MOSQUE _- CHURCH

RIGHT QUESTION - MY ANSWER
" IF YOU CAN BUILD HINDU TEMPLE WHY NOT MOSQUE" - OBAMA [Times Of India , 12, Sept., '10]
====================================================
COMMENT :YES , WHY NOT. BUT WHY HINDU TEMPLE ALSO ?t Is it to inflate RELIGIOUS & STRUCTURAL BIGOTRY ? ?
HINDU IS REALLY NOT A RELIGION BUT AN INVADER'S SLANG ( PERSIA) IMPOSED UPON THE ETHNIC POPULATION OF SINDHU ( INDUS VALLEY) CIVILLISATION.
SWAMI VIVEKANANDA , MORE THAN 100 YEARS BACK, ADVOCATED TO PEOPLE OF THE LAND OF BHARAT [India- this word is also a Grrek Slang] to call themselves SANATANIST or VAIDANTIK.
(But thr 'SLAVE-HABIT ' DIE HARD ! EVEN After Independence , the So called 'Copy- Cat Indians' feel so much PROUD of the 'feather' BOLLY -WOOD ' like the proverb of a crow putting on another bigger BIRD's feather !)
Posted by Phani Basu at 9:50 PM 0 comments