ChintaMany's beefs: -318-

 “If everyone’s missed this one, then there could be many more that everyone’s missed as well.” After reading this sentence, ChintaMany started thinking where these thoughts might fit in his scheme of worries, anger, desperation or any other strong feeling about any other thing. As if to pod him into action, certain news items cried for his attention.  

A volcano of anger erupted in ChintaMany's mind. Day in and day out, he has been watching and reading about this one lot -of- no-good-doers getting exposure as if they are supernatural beings rivalling the rocky interstellar visitors. The abysmal depth to which the world has fallen to give these warts a halo of glory, worried him. 

As is his habit, ChintaMany boils over first and then checks if the fire is properly lit or not. It took time and patience to understand why is he erupting and where he wants to divert the flow of lava? As he has never failed them, his friends have secretly honoured him with this acronym - AFATLER (act first and think later). 

What are his beefs?  

Somewhere an ordinary citizen gets fatally knocked down on the road by a speeding vehicle or an inebriated person behind the wheel. It definitely did not deserve much more space than two or three paragraphs or a 5 second clip buried under tons of advertisements. This had happened on the pedestrian walkway and in broad day light did not appall the minds behind the media. 

His next target the notorious people getting outrageous publicity.  A gang operating from a ‘mulable’ geographical strip, abutting two or three national borders becomes labelled as an international entity. More their illegal activities like smuggling drugs, arms or humans more the publicity they get. He considers this as an act to egg them on to aim for greater notoriety, with impunity. Achieving greater notoriety, these individuals/groups get mentioned in the UN and if lucky get ‘sanctioned’. The poor human ‘mules’ don’t get as much publicity, leaving the animal kind to wonder what this is all about 

ChintaMany’s issue is not with what businesses they engage themselves in, but with the ego boost given to these no-good-doers by the free-of-cost publicity in print and electronic media. This bothered him. He is boiling over because in a way these media outlets act as a beacon helping them to increase their reach to haul in more and more customers. Media accounts pay scant attention to highlight the miseries heaped on the passive public. As if to ease the burden of conscience a few investigative journalists attempt to expose and vanish without a trace. Media keeps mum, why? 

How the publicity part of it starts? It rests on the premise “the public should know or wants to know.” A rowdy sheeter is apprehended and soon his exploits along with his photograph, gets splashed(print) and flashed (electronic).  Is this to unmask the culprit or to frighten the public?  He has another beef with the apprehending agencies to which he would come a little later. 

A drug smuggler is caught red handed with a load of banned items ready for distribution. What happens next? Cameras click, microphones capture sound-bytes and braving a stampede among themselves, the reporters rush to send home the ‘treasure’ for wide dissemination. All in true public spirit! In their hurry the reporters missed the opportunity to interview the smuggler about his modus operandi. No problem, they will make it up with 'an operative of an international ring or bangle' tag. 

A counterfeiter lands in custody with freshly printed currency bundles. Apprehending agencies deem it a good photo op and pose with the cache, thoughtfully allowing the criminal to hide his face behind a mask. Why should a counterfeiter get this privilege? Is the apprehended such a valuable ‘statue’ to be kept covered before inauguration? 

In the case of human trafficking, the rings history, modus operandi, payment modes and other unwanted information is brought to the public almost painting this act as a heroic exploit. ChintaMany had a double beef- one for the painting on the offenders and the second for not painting the gruesome picture on the sufferers. 

The drama ‘heist gone awry' ends in an anti-climax, when their getaway vehicle is flagged down for a traffic violation! The heist gang do not mind posing for a quick 'click' wearing the supplied hoods, before being bundled into a police van.

ChintaMany had a few doubts on this ‘heist gone awry’ episode. How the police van came to the scene so fast and was that a roving reporter who clicked the heisters and who was playing into whose hands? 

The same drama unfolds whenever an apprehended criminal is brought into a court. ChintaMany's beef is why should the public not get a glimpse of a criminal? Whom are they shielding, the public or the criminal? 

Why should words like king and lord are dishonoured by associating them with a ‘pin’ and a ‘drug’, to describe criminals as kingpin and drug lord? Is this not a perfidy on the language to confer such noble titles on notorious persons? The pity is the agencies have to rope in the silent mule, both human and animal, as essential elements, to describe the elaborate networking. 

ChintaMany’s biggest beef comes next. What harm the innocent collar has wrought on the society, to contribute to the vocabulary to list the crimes committed by persons from different walks of life- as "white collar" "Green collar", "Brown collar”, “Blue collar" and so on? Has the literate society given up its hope of finding other suitable descriptive words?  Why do they have beefs with kings and lords? 

A notorious arms dealer, a merchant of death, who thumbs his nose at the society and law enforcements might become the Merchant of Vengeance (R.I.P William Shakespear). The master mind of theft, architect of terror gets eulogised, in absentia if he had gone underground or feigned untraceable though he regularly holds ‘court’ in public glare. Why is he untraceable? 

When a passerby is killed, individuals and banks lose money, innocent people are subjected to terror, drugs and illegal arms trade, why are the perpetrators allowed to hide behind a hood, obviously not out of shame?

With readership and viewership in mind, is the media opting to bury sensibilities in the name of sensational coverages? Why on their part, the public should look for sensational coverages? Is it as an antidote to boost the quality of humdrum existence, as long as it covers others' plight? 

Free speech is taken for granted to utter thoughts inimical to the wellbeing of the nation. No doubt, everyone has an issue, if one is unable to solve it or live with it, why not migrate to a country where your free speeches are welcome? News outlets falling prey to sensationalism or bias, pour out words and visuals to elevate these voices to the status of freedom fighters. The true freedom fighters fought for everyone and this pseudo freedom fighters fight for a few.  Why politicians have the Midas touch - start dirt poor and end up owning mountains. Are they the standing example (they contest elections) for starting from scratch…

The fortunate ones build a retirement corpus and grumble about its insufficiency. The poor, who has nightmares about earning money for the day never gets to dream about a retirement plan. How to describe this mindset - as “buttoned up collar” crime? 

In the end, a question mark stood before ChintaMany. Why is he ranting at things and really what is his beef with these beefs?

A grandfather's reverie: Come again, summer times! -317-

When the grandchildren descend for summer holidays, the days become hectic and fun filled. He could not help but to reminisce about his summer holidays - stay at home, roam in he neighbourhood with friends, dropping mango, tamarind (ripe or unripe how does it matter!), and gooseberry excelling the prowess of a Arjuna or a Karna, by accurately hitting them with small stones and then eagerly retire to taste them, under the shade of the same trees from which we have borrowed the eatables. Fun of a thrilling kind! 

The fun lasted till such time the landlord or his caretaker came barreling down, shouting threats. We beat a hasty retreat. What else could we do, as we had stolen his produce without permission.  If nothing like that was on the agenda, a dive in the pond with a ride on the back of a buffalo enjoying a bath there or run after tractors transporting harvested sugar cane to snatch some. 

The purloined sugar cane tasted sweeter though we suffered incidental cuts and bruises to show for our efforts! In our world, all these are a given and taken for granted activities. How, then will we enjoy our summer holidays simply staying at home? Complaints, admonishments and the scorching sun did not deter us. 

The second act of the drama called summer vacation repeated with our children. Sometimes they spent a portion of their holidays with relatives and sometimes we played host for the children of relatives, like a rotating summer camp, under the care of the respective mothers. Braving the storm, they might have yearned for a ‘somewhere else’ holiday of their own! 

On weekends, it was the turn of the fathers to bear the brunt and help them to burn their energy with games, walks and hobbies. Whenever our children had to stay home, all by themselves, they were under a drill master's constant glare to prevent any loose cannon being fired, by way of mischiefs or misdeeds. Concern, of the mother, of course. 

Then came a lull period, as in the eye of a cyclone. Our children moved out for studies and at those summer holidays, they made their own arrangements, probably to escape from our constant lectures on dos and don’ts. A sort of revenge holidays. 

After a few years, now it is the grandchildren who perform the act three of the drama, called summer vacation. They bring with them such energy into the act, more than sufficient to turn a gust of wind into a ferocious tornado! Slowly we also get drawn into this maelstrom 

When they were young a few bedtime stories helped. As the years rolled by, they have reached the stage from where they take pleasure in terrorising us with horror stories.  I do not know the physics and chemistry of the origin of their energy. It mysteriously peaks at bedtime, even after lavishly spending it from dawn to dusk!  To my tired body and mind, their chit-chat often sounded like garbled messages from the Voyager probe. 

One day, the bedtime chit-chat hooked into me like a harpoon and made me to sit upright. Give a listen to their conversation, which I managed to reproduce verbatim.  

"Noise can break silence. What can break noise?"

The vacuum!

"What is a rest mass?"

Glancing surreptitiously at me, one kid answered, "Which is not doing any work!" 

Why planets go around? 

Not to get bored! This is tossed as a rebuttal to me, for telling them not to roam in the neighbourhood.

"What is purpose?"

"Just you asked me a question. That is, it!".

This again is intended as a sarcastic answer, as I question them often, the purpose of going around in the neighbourhood. 

"Where a thief will get his food!"

"Of course, from a fast-food joint!"

One day they snuck out and munched on snacks at a street corner joint. I had seen them and they had seen me. This jibe is veiled reminder not to spill their secret. 

"Why a tap leaks?"

“To do a self-test!

This was a cloaked reference, again directed at me, for spilling the beans about their secret visit to the fast-food joint. 

"What will happen, if a parrot is given a carrot?"

“It will go nuts!”

 Obviously, you don't want me to reveal the identity of the intended target! 

These youngsters know how to make a quick buck, when you are ready to cry a halt.

They took their revenge on the next day, for spilling the beans, and forced me (affectionately) to swipe my card and allowed me to secretly weep at the amount on the printouts. 

Back at home, the grandma, thinking that these brats must have exhausted themselves, fed them luscious food. She did not understand why they were frequently glancing at each other and then at me as if we all shared a common secret. After tousling their hairs with loving care, she gave me an enquiring look. I was tongue tied to say anything and silently placed the cash receipts in front of her. Losing interest, and a bit disappointed in not discovering the hidden secrets, she left. 

That day’s bedtime was more spirited and filled with banter. With more nervous energy to spend, they chose to stage a satire filled Q & A session.  I could have avoided it but joined them expecting my grandchildren to do something creative. The session progressed like this, and I decoded their quips, in to what they said and what they meant. Bear with me, it would be fun to read! 

Q: An apple a day keeps the doctor away.   (Grandmother forced them to eat fruits)

A1: Better, give the apple to the doctor. It is less expensive. 

Q: An early bird catches worms.                   (I always insisted, rain or shine, get up early)

A1: What happens, if the worms oversleep!

A2: Or, if the bird is not hungry?                  

 Q: Barking dogs don't bite.                          (Last week, I was almost a toast between a canine’s teeth)                    

A1: What if it bites first and then barks?    

A2: You mean, once more?                                    

 Q: A bird in hand is worth two in the bush.

A: Do the birds in the bush know this?

 Q: A crying baby gets the milk.                        (one of the kids does not like the smell of milk!)

A: What if the baby is protesting against it? 

 Q: A stitch in time saves many.                          (While stitching a button, I managed to break the

A:  Will it not leave the tailors also in tears.        needle into my index finger and a visit to a doctor)

 Q: Rolling stone gathers no mass.               (This jibe is on me, as a reed-thin person)

A: What if it is trying to lose its mass?

 Q: why you don’t want to a leapfrog.          (We insisted on them to be top in studies)

A: Don’t want to disappoint the other frogs, not born in a leap year!

 Q: Why history repeats itself?                    (Both the grandparents are guilty as charged)

A: To avoid forgetting the facts!

 Q: Why one man's medicine turns poison to another?

A: It is the medicine's side effect!               (This is to scare a free boarder)

 Q: Why it always rains when you are out without an umbrella?

A: To remind you that the umbrella is safe at home!   (I Forgot the umbrella and got drenched)

With all they said and did, it only added variety to our daily life, during their summer holidays. We went through a raising phase, mesa phase and a descending phase, a sort of sinusoidal curve but with a mesa region. Like the movie title "Come September" our entertainment is waiting for “The kids return for the Summer"

Clearly a confused mind - 316 -

What is a story? Imaginch's hovering mind tried to separate the threads from yarns. He was immensely pleased with the words ‘thread and yarn’, that tumbled into his mind from nowhere. This lead from nowhere, unerringly led him to the source. Ideas trigger the imagination and anyone who is inclined attempts to spin the yarn from these threads of thoughts. Doubly pleased with his own logical reasoning, he decided to get involved with a writer processing these threads to weave his or her tapestry. 

Imaginch tried to visualise the painful labour, a writer undergoes to deliver a story. He surmised that a writer would pick up an idea from the shelf of collected volumes or from hearsay information, and probably would select a theme, he or she would form the basis for the writing. Pursuing the same thinking, he imagined the set up with a table and chair, placed near a window to gaze in search of words or a sentence, from where the writer tries to drive the thoughts. 

He chose a known person as the subject for his study.  However, he decided to keep himself aloof to avoid impeding with the work in progress. He did not want to impose conditions on the writer’s freedom to choose his timings and methods. 

Oh! This 'work in progress’ phrase gave him the jitters. Many infra projects like metros, elevated corridors and expressways are still displaying this, like forever, proclaiming the wisdom "Today's inconvenience is tomorrow's convenience."  Imaginch had two options to choose from. To be a fly on the wall or be a ghost floating around the writer. Curiosity chose the latter, as he wanted to experience the art of spinning a yarn, from as much a close quarter as possible. 

The writer sat in the chair, rested his elbows on the table and held his chin held in cupped hands. With a faraway look, he let his gaze through the window. Imaginch followed suit, but did not see anything of interest. Suddenly, the writer closed his eyes, as if to sleep, taking Imaginch by surprise. Before he could understand why, the writer woke up with a start and wrote furiously a few sentences. At this point in time, the writer’s son entered the work space as if intending to stop the speeding thoughts to a screeching halt. The son had a problem to solve, and the father had a story to write but the son had his way. What else could Imaginch do except sympathising with the writer? 

He could not guess when the interrupted flow would resume. Sometimes, a midnight scramble to the writing desk and scribble in a shorthand, the writer invents on the go. The next morning, he would spend considerable time to decipher his "unique" shorthand! Leaving the writer to do the unscrambling, Imaginch would silently send his sympathies to the thoughts lost in the forest of invented short hand notations! This did not worry Imaginch, as he had a permanent tourist visa to stay near the writer and observe the story, whenever it unfolded.

Becoming frustrated, the writer chose the path of least resistance and diverted his story though a bypass road. This manoeuvre triggered a vague memory in Imaginch’s mind. This writer used to often boast about da Vinci who could write using whichever hand he wanted to, and the novelist Edgar Wallace who could dictate two or three novels simultaneously without getting lost in the plot or characters. The next day, he could resume from where he left, without referring to the transcripts.  Imaginch let out a, oops, the retiree must have forgotten them as he aged, perhaps!  

Though, he is yet to get a glimpse of the plot and the likely twists and turns in the narrative, the very act of witnessing the struggles kept his interest alive. Utilising the in between waiting time, he mentally organises all the known information about the writer. 

A retiree trying to revive his passion and taking shaky steps to become a writer. The son, who interrupted the writer some time ago, is bursting with enthusiasm to become an entrepreneur as a moonlighting venture. It was that proposal which interrupted the writer. 

Imaginch wondered, how long it would be before the writer returned to his thoughts?  Patience running out, he was about to call it a day, when suddenly the writer resumed at a furious pace. Pages filled up faster and there were many words supported by under linings, pointing out to misspelt words, repeated words or questioning and refusing to accept construction sequence in sentences. Abruptly, the flow stopped, as he struggled to find words to express the thoughts stumbling out of his mind. The writer took that logical step and powered down the laptop.

Imaginch recalled another piece of background information. The retiree had learnt type writing, during school holidays probably intending to be future ready! That explained the furious pace at which he had finished a part of his story, with mushrooming words with under lining markers.

Why did he ignore to harvest the mushrooms! He disliked order and structure. Another reason was the question ‘what percentage of the population still write adhering to rules of grammar? When the content is understood why then the wrinkles in the container could not be ignored?”.  Imaginch was delighted with the phrase “when the content is understood why then the wrinkles in the container could not be ignored” and was equally puzzled by this rebellious attitude of the writer. 

Ghost-watching the writer, Imaginch had this nagging doubt. Why is he keeping the title a secret? Or is it an amateur’s attempt to thumb his nose against the establishment?  Unable to follow the context of the story, Imaginch felt like a mariner lost with a defunct compass. 

The next attack on writing occurred so fast. Imaginch had to scramble and hover over the shoulders of the writer. The attempt was worth the paragraph, where the retiree was spilling his gut feelings. He lamented, “had dabbled in hobbies without pursuing a greater goal, had picked up on-the-job knowledge in science, mechanical, electrical, electronics, pneumatic and hydraulics in the course of four decades, but did not aim for any professional degree. I wanted to be an entrepreneur and with my no-risk mindset, but now I may have to become a stakeholder, in my son’s yet to take off venture." 

Imaginch started doubting whether the writer is confusing his story with that of his main character or vice versa? At this stage, even if the title of the story is affixed, he will have difficulty to guess the future course, the narrative would take. In this frame of mind, when the writer made an unforeseen error, it was a heart-wrenching moment also for Imaginch. 

The writer had this habit of recording his thoughts on a topic, literally on the go, using his smartphone to compose it as a draft in his email account (he has a dedicated one for this purpose). This happened more often and later on he would add them in the write up in appropriate places. On this day, he searched for that inspired piece of   writing. Then he did the unthinkable, before completing the cut and paste job he had inadvertently deleted the draft from the e-mail. Flummoxed, he did not think about recovering it from trash or bin folders. Did he curse, looking at the cellphone. Yes!  Did I see lot of eggs on his face. Yes! 

Undeterred by this setback, the writer continued with an entirely different narrative, drowning Imaginch in utter confusion. Unable to take it anymore, he called it a distressing session and scooted out of sight. On the next day, Imaginch was in for a surprise. The writer must have done his homework and had lifted the veil of secrecy on the title for his story. The title “Maybe a confused mind” said it all.

As things were warming up, the writer’s better half breezed in, voicing her irritation about the way he was wasting time, in the name of writing. “Seeds of your thoughts are lost in plots but never sprout.” For added measure she said angrily, " Don't you know any other way to spend your time usefully other than being an amateur writer? At this rate when will you complete a first draft?" Imaginch could only communicate his sympathy, albeit silently. 

This encounter produced the desired effect.  The writer began to focus on the title, torn between a desire to become an entrepreneur-partner or be an amateur writer. He smirked at the epithet - an amateur writer!  In exasperation, he questioned, when photography, astronomy and other scientific pursuits could proudly sport this amateur prefix, why should not he?”

From that point onwards, the story moved like a high-speed train. Sentences became paragraphs and paragraphs filled up pages. At the end of his efforts, the writer had a count of 2500 words, of course needing spell check and correction of grammatical mistakes.  Imaginch let out a sigh of relief that his ghost-watching had proved its worth. With a loud sigh, the writer also signalled a break for his literary effort.

Imaginch guessed that the writer needed some time to rejuvenate his brain cells to deal with the corrections and editing of the first draft. Would he dare to show the first draft to his better half! Yes, he did and as Imaginch anticipated, her review was incisive. “Needs extensive revision, tightening of the narrative and remove the ambiguities. Then change the title to Clearly a confused mind as this would be more reflective.  Do all these, you may still have a draft for a second revision!”

Imaginch understood the word play in the changed title but doubted whether the author in his confused state of mind took note of his wife's intended pun or satire! 

He hastily left the spot, himself a little 'clearly confused' about why he has taken such an interest in this writer. Clarity emerged, like sunlight breaking through thick cloud cover. Himself, the writer and the retiree happen to share similar dreams and ambitions. From this perspective emerged the reason why at all he wanted to be near the writer. He began to appreciate the import of the title and the impact of struggles an amateur writer has to withstand. 

In the end, he understood how an author goes about creating his work. Sometimes, a story begins to form when an aspiring author is left with nothing but to read his own drafts. Anguish, helplessness and hurt lined up the emotions that cry for an outlet. With nothing else to do at that moment of overwhelming despair, his agitated mind churns out words and he races to capture and record them. Maybe, he might salvage the outpourings, for use in one of his future attempts! 

Some other times, the rustle of leaves, bark of a dog at a distance, ringing of a bell or blaring of a horn might trigger thoughts and jostle for a place in a narrative. If the narrative is already set, these thoughts easily find a place, with suitable tailoring of words to match the plot. In case, the narrative itself is non-existent, then the spur of the moment thoughts ceases to exist, after leaving a bitter defeat in the mind of the author. A pity!

Sometimes, an idea has to be bulldozed into submission, to fit in to the narrative. A few times, it was the opposite - excavate and dump them to fill the recycle bin. Now, the author comes face to face with the wisdom that some ideas could stonewall the progress of a story. If the author is a compassionate person, then the the dumped write up is revisited for salvage. Here the author is like a teacher trying to correct an errant student.  Why to waste random thoughts, born out of rare flights of imagination? After exhausting the rehabilitation options, the author may initiate a mass exodus programme. Gives them refuge in a “Junk” folder as a check for the rainy day.

Imaginch thought, “Why should an author struggle so much?” Maybe, to release the pressure built up by the thoughts and plots or to prove that he too can write or yearning for appreciation as a writer. He mused, “Should an author be only compassionate but not a selfish person?”

He was struck by another thought – is this writer trying to cry, “I am a peacock, ya let me fly”

Having had his experience, Imaginch retired to read the story Clearly a confused mind. The writer’s perseverance deserved this justice. He admired the writer as he is not the one who expects a reply for an unwritten correspondence!

“What if” a thought journey on rails: - 315-

Imaginch was busy on counting the number of electric poles, on the side of the track and did not pay so much attention inside the a/c compartment. This game of counting the poles has never failed him to pass the time during a journey. He was not sure whether they were erected 50m or 60m apart.  Another doubt, what was length of welded rail, over which the train was travelling, less than 250m or more than that? Even when all these thoughts were going on in his mind, he did not fail to notice a vendor moving ahead with a tray filled with chocolates and crispies. That was a few moments ago.                

The wheels were making their rhythmic clickety-clack sound on the track.  Amidst this monotonous chattering, he could barely hear a child and his mother arguing about something. The child's voice sounded insistent and the mother kept trying to pacify him in a low voice. The voices were coming from three rows behind Imaginch   and at best he could catch only snatches of their conversation. In the interval between two clickety-clack sounds, he clearly heard the raised strident voice of the child asking, not pleading, “What if?” 

Imaginch seized the chance and added one more guessing game to the already ongoing counting exercise. More or less, he got the clue as to the likely subject matter under disagreement, when he suddenly remembered about the vendor who had passed by a few moments ago. That was enough for him to go on a wild goose chase and workout a possible scenario, to unravel the context for the “what if?”   He felt pleased with his logical deduction, based on the contents of the tray, and was ready to start the process. 

This “what if” was a good prey and he would chase it till the end to hunt it with his imagination.  The guess work on “what if?” taking precedence, he promptly postponed the counting of poles and the clickety-clacks, to the next trip. 

What if?  If this question is asked under different situations, how would he answer it? Imaginch started to think on this line. 

He mused, “These two words followed by a question mark is deceptive but appear simple. Any attempt to answer, is beset with unknowns and problems. He listed the unknowns as “the subject matter, the identity of the person and the situation in which the question is raised.” 

Why answering such a simple question becomes so difficult? Before mouthing this aloud, he remembered his own ‘deceptive and not simple’ caveat. 

Cautionary flags fluttered in his mind. Number one, before trying to answer the question, one should ascertain whether the answer is already known to the party. Number two, the identity of the person is vital to decide the manner in which the answer has to be presented. Number three, the purpose of this question being brought up for an answer. 

Then on, it is pure and simple. You can begin your guess work with gusto. For reasons best known to his travelling mind, the words guess and gusto reminded him of gusset plates used in railway bridges. Probably these words are trying to remind him to join his guesses as a gusset plate does!  Now, he is ready to venture and come up with these options and leave it to the person or the situation to pick the suitable answer. Here are a few of his laboured guesses and suggestions. 

Guess number one:

If it is your boss asking this question, how should you respond?  First, gauge his mood, bias and then decide whether the answer should be honest or pleasing. Before giving out the reply, you also have to assess the fall-out, if your opinion goes counter current to a n already frozen idea. After hanging this board of caution “Beware of hasty answers.”, he moved on to the next one. 

Guess number two:

If it is a colleague, how you would go about it? The options must have been iterated for some time in your colleague’s mind. The very fact that this question is being asked now, is to imply that there are some unresolved issues. Imaginch’s suggestion – Put yourself in his or her shoes and hat, analyse, address the fall-outs and then offer the opinion, after adding the prefix ‘if I were you.’ Is there any other  polite way of leaving the decision to him or her? 

Guess number three:

If it is a friend, then how to deal with it? In this case, an open and frank exchange of ideas would definitely be possible and welcome.  With the total information spread on the table, there is no scope for withholding crucial factors. The depth of friendship offers a great help to ensure that the whole discussion is solely for the benefit of the friend, without any bias. This is the best and conducive atmosphere, to offer a solution or an opinion without hanging any cautionary board. 

Guess number four: 

If it is a youngster, what how should it be handled? One thing is certain; the youngster will most probably be not from your household. This particular he or she must be - from the house of a relative, a colleague or a friend.  If this turns out to be the case, the subject on consultation might be narrowed down, depending upon the age and shared inputs, on the current thinking of the youngster, from your relative or friend or colleague It would mostly be on education or job opportunities. This takes a load of your mind. 

As an outside chance, if you sense the possibility that it might be concerning a marriage proposal, hold your thoughts and wait.  Now you would have to carefully view through the given glossed over account. In all probability, the youngster's mind must have been made up already in consultation with his friends.  

When it becomes clear that the objective and its sole purpose and intent is to get you to play the role of a "devil's advocate", seize the opportunity. Freely speak your mind. Happily, you can add your two bits worth of wisdom on accept or reject basis! The youngster will neither take the advice nor the wisdom part as an offence! Nicely packaged, is it not?  Imaginch felt pleased with himself for adroitly managing to skirt the issue without saying it is your choice! 

Guess number five:

If the question comes from a grandchild, how should it be dealt with it? One thing is certain that there will be no doubt about the subject. Before coming out with an answer, scramble for a pair of kid gloves and tread very, very carefully to avoid stepping over the sensitive feelings of the grandchild, his parents and his grandmother. Watch your words lest you step on a landmine!  The kid knows the trade routes and you will be lost even with google maps. The kid is a master negotiator and will lay out your weakness (mostly affection, kindness and other grandfatherly attributes) on the table, to clinch his SBTO (self-benefiting trade off) deals. The power of affection for the grandkid is such, you simply fold over, succumb and sign the deals. 

After agreeing to the deals, you may wind up paying his hidden whimsical tariffs too! The best choppy-free passage would be to give in without any resistance. Then, you are free to remove the gloves and fret in private, if you want to!   Imaginch’s advice “Grandkids are not to be taken for granted. Tip toe on eggshells.” 

Guess number six: 

If the question is asked by one of your kids and how should you respond? As a courtesy, they will give you an opening statement.  So, the subject part of it is now clear. Diligently prepare, edit and moderate your answers and present them as your views. After sufficiently dressing up   your uncertainties as experience and wisdom, deliver your opinions.  Be prepared for the likelihood that all your views may get rejected out of hand. 

Now, you are free to leave in a hurry to huff and puff but not before hearing this often-repeated quote – “You have not yet learnt to bridge the generation gap!” 

Guess number seven:

If the question comes from the mistress of the house, how to dare and handle it?  A very tricky situation indeed. If you blurt out a ‘I know the answer’, be prepared for this backlash “When have you known things that are useful or what part of it so useful, now?" If you don't know the answer, then also you are not off the hook, from this barb, " don't I know what you know?" 

Though you may wonder, ‘when you know, what I know then, why did you ask me!’

Here Imaginch dutifully raised a placard written in red letters - “for your sake don’t dare to voice it.” 

In spite of all these catches and traps, if you are ready to wear protective gears, then go ahead and answer it. If no such gadgets are on hand, then use the time tested and result guaranteed technique - nod your head, keep your counsel under advisement. But don't fret, fume, huff or puff even in private. It has consequences! 

After reviewing his thought lines on the last question, Imaginch decided he had reached the end of the journey. If he pushed forward, a collision is imminent with the thoughtfully provided buffer stop or dead end or buffer block, to stop his thought train at the end of the platform. He was happy that during this mental journey, he could actually identify some of the elements involved in the running of a train.

Brahma with the searching souls: -314-

Before his excursion to the Earth, Brahma had expressed a desire to host a ‘meet-the souls’ event. Rarely, he gets side tracked but the projects Yama and Chitragupta brought up intervened and resulted in a postponement. Now another hick up has risen. He had permitted Chitragupta to go incommunicado to wherever and however long, to an undisclosed location, to think about his project. Yama remained untraceable, probably lecturing the sinful souls in some secret location or must have switched-off the tracking device.

Yama and Chitragupta would have enlivened the proceedings. But he was unwilling to create a doubt in the minds of the souls that he was the one vacillating to face them alone. He decided to go ahead with a ‘come what may, let me get it over with’ mindset. Within the limited space available to them, his heads started to move left and right, indicating agreement. He acknowledged them, ‘very considerate of you, my dear heads’.

On his signal, the waiting souls silently floated in and occupied their allotted hanging space. Brahma surveyed them, looking for such bent upon souls with intent to parley with him. On their part, the souls silently willed one another, to come forward and be the ‘spokes-soul’. 

A slight smile played on Brahma's faces, as he watched them hedging. Maybe this could be to his advantage or it might turn out to be the deceptive act of the souls. Before going incommunicado, Chitragupta had studied the list of attendees and left warning notes about this deceitful behaviour. He noticed some of them getting impatient and beginning to gyrate and soon like leaves in a gentle breeze every one followed suit.  On any other occasion, Bramha would have enjoyed and appreciated this waveform dance. 

At random, he pointed out at a soul and gestured it to come forward and said, “Pose as many questions as you want to, but you have to answer every one of them”. The soul hesitated to float forward. To ease its apprehension, Brahma chose four more souls, indicating that they would be next. 

This settled the hesitant soul and posed this question: “Illusion is not reality yet reality is an illusion, why?” 

Brahma was all ears to hear this scientist’s philosophical explanation. The soul straightened a little and said," Let me tell a story. We, a group of students were listening to our teacher trying to explain the difference between illusion and reality. He used this day-to-day example. We can't see air but it exists. To make it visible, he just threw a fistful of coloured powder and declared, ‘Now, the air reveals its presence but needed a colouring material’. He ended by saying, though air was invisible, it became visible by the movement of the colouring material in it.” 

Continuing the soul said, “Before the class ended, one student asked this doubt. “Sir, you have not explained this. The air existed in reality and yet we needed the movement of the coloured particles to perceive it. In that case, is it not the projected illusion?  The colouring material created a reality and the mind confirmed it?  The student wanted to know, "why to prove an invisible reality by making it visible?  Why, we need to use two other realities namely the powder and movement of air, to prove an existing reality?" 

Brahma understood that being humble, this soul did not claim the credit for posing these questions. Besides, he had indirectly managed to position his thinking - why to prove a reality by looking at an illusion, when that illusion itself was created by using two other realities? The philosophical connotations the student had made was that one’s own perception made it temporary and relative whether it was real or an illusion. 

Immensely pleased, Brahma decided to reserve a slot to have an exhaustive one to one with this spirit, to discuss about holographic universe and maya, at the end of this session. To test the perception of this soul in depth, Brahma readied some typical questions. 

Chitragupta had marked this particular soul, second in line, as a bundle of confusion. To test the level of confusion, Brahma had arranged to have a highly polished object.  He called the second soul and asked, “What do you see?"

The soul replied, "An image of me." 

“Can you feel the image or hold it in your hands?”

“No. How can I, it is not a real?”

“If you move away, then what happens?”

“I, no longer would see the image.”

“Now, what do you think of this image - real or an illusion created by your mind?”

The soul remained silent. Brahma thought, “Probably he was not a bright student in the class. Let me try in another fashion.” 

Brahma asked. “Would you be able to picture yourself in your mind?”

“I tried to many times ,but found it impossible.”

“Which of my examples would answer your question with a better explanation - illusion is not a reality but reality could become an illusion?”

The soul fumbled for an answer and replied, "Oh, Brahma, who else would be a better teacher to clarify my doubts about illusion and reality. What would you command me to do?”

Brahma thought to himself, “He has chosen the path of surrender!

“Spend time here and find answers about your existence – a reality or an illusion?” 

With a little swagger, showing attitude, the third soul, posed these doubts.

“When assumed, it is there and if searched for, it is not there, why?”

“When something is created from nothing, then the something will create nothing, why?” 

Brahma felt another philosophical talk coming out, this time from a biologist.  

The soul continued, “Life forms encompassing botany, zoology, ecology, and genetics started this long journey, from next to nothing. Evolution proceeded by creating diversity, structure, function, growth, and interactions of one life form with another. So many things have been created, not relying on that initial nothingness anymore. This answers the first question. 

The stock of nothingness having been exhausted, no more newer things are being created. This is my explanation to the poser that if from nothing something has been created then the created something has used up everything and leaves nothing, really nothing! This is the answer for the second question.” 

Brahma had the same exact feeling he used to get, whenever Chitragupta tried to explain something but ends up really not to explain anything! He chuckled to himself, “Pitting this soul against Chitragupta would be fun to watch from the sidelines!” 

Will the fourth soul be any different? Shall I call for a break? Over ruling his own need for a break, Brahma called that spirit to come forward. 

The soul started with, “Assume it is there and search for it, it is not there!” and “why illusion and reality are being treated as separate entities”? 

Brahma wondered why this soul is repeating the question asked and explained earlier? 

Unaware of this, the soul continued. “Assumption is based on certain things learned or heard. Illusion is one such assumption. Human mind does not stop at this point. It tries to device ways to prove the existence of an illusion as real. In this condition, if an argument is made that an assumption is an illusion, then it becomes a knowledge of reality. Now, where is the illusion? How it will be accepted - as an illusion of a fertile mind that has created a reality? 

The second question is, if mind can create both the illusion and the reality, why it is trying to deal with it as separate entities? Is mind trying to seek an escape portal to the safety of illusion, from experiencing the hard realities? If there is an in between state, what it would be called and why it is not being deliberated? There are many questions but few answers for this. 

Brahma sat upright. This soul had posed one question and in answering it, it had posed many other questions begging for answers. It deserves credit for having come here to seek and find the philosophical depths. Brahma decided to take the time to fully go through the points, word by word, not to understand but to frame a response to convince the soul that spoke in questions! This soul competed with the third souls to remind him of Chitragupta and his explanations! 

The fifth and final candidate, fidgeting to spend nervous energy, came forward unbidden. It spoke, “Is there a thing called reality or illusion.? Is it not a delusional shroud, to get away from finding out what they are? 

This line of questions Piqued Brahma and he hurriedly ran a mental check for any alert Chitragupta might have left on this soul. Yes, he found the flag-almost won a Nobel Prize. It confused him a little as his protégé has not added a note about this Nobel thing. He decided to let the ‘almost won Nobel soul’ to continue. 

“Some of the interpretations of quantum mechanics, particularly the entanglement and worm holes have led to the philosophical discussions in popular media about whether "reality is an illusion" or "at least locally not real." The religion can simply allude to it as maya and leave it at that. But science cannot afford to do that, as it strives to offer an explanation or proof on empirical evidences and testable hypotheses. Currently it has come to the view that the universe is objectively real, even if our perception of it is limited or can be described by complex models at best as locally not real! 

The religion can survive without offering a proof but science cannot remain still but has to push the limits to reach a level of understanding, where it no longer under an obligation to provide proof. Religion leaves it to perception. Science tries to demystify by leveraging quantum phenomenon, super positioning and a host of novel theories and hypotheses to say “nothingness exists but inside something that has been created from it!” 

Brahma wondered whether this point on ‘nothingness exists but inside something that has been created from it’ would satisfy the third soul that raised this question or he would get another complex explanation! He also noted that the souls who spoke first, third and fifth, shared one thing in common - thinking and trying to explain what reality is and what is not. 

He broke the silence and asked, “why did you not get the Prize?” 

“I declined it. They asked me why? I asked them a question, that did sit well with them” 

“What did you ask?” 

“Why to search for answers when universe itself is the answer?”  And they queried, “Where from this question came?” 

I smugly replied, “From the universe itself!” They did not leave it there and persisted, “What about the multiverse?” 

In reply, I asked, “Hold an object in between two mirrors, how many reflected objects you would see? When the object is removed, will the mirrors have anything but themselves to reflect.?  A real object is needed to create virtual objects. First, understand the original and then try to explore the other universes. I would argue and answer that multi and parallel universes are but reflected images of an original, from different angles and perspectives. 

One more candidate getting an entry, Brahma thought he would have a busy time, with three one-to one discussions. It would be tan opportunity to find out how far the human race has advanced to understand about all the created universes under his care! While thinking like this, his heads reverberated with the doubt whether all the above-mentioned universes are really under his care or merely it is an illusion created by his multiple minds?

Before concluding the session, Brahma carefully listed some counter questions and his own explanations to convince any of the souls still hovering over doubts.

Oh! Chitragupta, where are you? We have to mount a spirited defense.