Chitragupta conquers the Soul (Part 2):

To his utter relief, Yamadharmaraj came face to face with Chitragupta. Actually, Chitragupta was looking at his feet while walking, and Yama, in his eagerness, assumed it to be a face-to-face meeting. Chitragupta had no chance to step aside. For a few moments, icicle-laced silence hung between them. Not to put off the inevitable and afraid to miss the chance, Yamadharmaraj poured out his current woes, in dealing with the politician's soul and pleaded for urgent help. Though reluctant, Chitragupta managed to cast a weak smile and a nod, conveying his willingness to look into the matter.

A thorough reading of the soul's dossier resulted in some exploitable clues. But Chitragupta needed sometime to set traps and snare the soul willingly. Chitragupta wanted the politician's soul to feel like having an upper hand. He asked the soul to briefly explain about the notable career achievements, as a living politician. The soul didn't expect this soft ball, an opportunity he had never let go as a politician. Like a commander moving his soldiers, he marshalled thoughts and salient points came pouring out to impress Chitragupta. 

“As Tourism minister, tried to make every water body, hilly region worthy of a tourist spot. Resorts, restaurants, emergency hospitals soon sprouted, occupying most of the space leaving just elbow rooms for the visitors to move about. The resorts were in high demand whenever a political party experienced a’ hot weather’ and wanted to closely guard its elected representatives in recreative comfort. All was looking good, till some nosey investigative journalist stumbled upon the undeniable link between my family and the facilities operating. Party bigwigs, though privately nonchalant, publicly laid the blame at my office forcing me to resign. I simply switched to another political party which needed a public-service minded politician like me.

As Roadways minister, I did not disappoint even a single village/hamlet, gave them state highways going nowhere. I silenced my detractors - by pointing out progress is not an overnight phenomenon and infrastructure of today is for the prosperity of tomorrow. Over drawn funds and unfinished works left the government red-faced. The government lost confidence in me and demanded my resignation. My commitment to public-service made me to abandon and book a passage in another ship.

Ministry of Health warmly awaited my arrival, though I had to twist some ears, who had enjoyed recreational stay at my relatives' resorts. Compromised comradery! Unseasonal viral fever and water borne diseases took hold of the population and in a fit of anger, over the Water resources minister, I gave a press briefing to friendly reporters that only the water borne diseases brought in the viral fever. Sensing censure, I feigned several fancy diseases to get myself admitted to a super-specialty hospital, run by a close relative. Fed up with this recalcitrant attitude, the party went into damage control mode and sacked me. 

Anyhow, fresh election was due soon. My desire to continue to help the public kept me looking at the political clientele who had availed recreational resort and found refuge in super-specialty hospitals of my relatives. The party bosses might have either misread my bio (my family had, long ago, become defunct agriculturists) or looking for a scapegoat. Wearing a new party colour, I became the minister for Agriculture. If I sympathise with the farmers, the finance ministry will cry foul threatening me with fiscal deficit. The situation will only worsen if I mind the ministry's plight forcing the farmers to leave the silos empty and the population hungry.

I started having nightmares and began to see 'the writing on the wall in my political landscape'. In a not-so-subtle move, I proposed to remove some freebies from agricultural sector to help the fiscal deficit in check and at the same time offering a better basket of freebies, which would make other ministries to raise in anger. Farmers took to streets, resulting in untold miseries to one and all.

At this stage, no political party wanted me anywhere near their headquarters. Power gone; wealth gone; friends disappearing overnight, and enemies gathered to seek revenge. Relatives, whom I had taken care of cold shouldered me. I could not even get a bed in a resort or a super-specialty hospital as it would not be good for their businesses."

Chitragupta deciding to play a rough hand, observed, “You had everything working for you in politics. Like a slick operator, you tried your acrobatic skill in jumping from one pond into another pond, to fish under controversial circumstances. In that process you left an oil spill everywhere killing all the fishes."

Chitragupta sensed that the right time has come to spring the trap. In a soothing and conciliatory voice asked," Yet your achievements, as narrated by you are off the chart, figuratively speaking. I have a small doubt- whether your account is true or an imaginary. Any how you deserve a reward here."

The soul, though pleased and happy about a reward, wanted to immediately dispel Chitragupta's doubt. It reiterated," This is what is in the dossier Yamadharmaraj has. I standby that account and vouch for it. Are you satisfied now?"

Having got the soul's confession, Chitragupta decided to end the charade. He said, “The moment you cease to breath, automatically our rules come in to force. In case, you are uncomfortable then we can apply a new set. Still if you feel this is harsh, we have some more, and some more, and then some more and a stack of it. Get the point- all your rights have become defunct and your voice or acts of protest have no impact anymore.  The bottom line is a reward cannot be rejected."

Even in the political arena, this much complication never existed. The expectation of a promised reward clouded the soul's judgement. Wanting to be crisp and clear it replied, "I accept your terms and conditions, unconditionally."

To ease the soul gently into its, to be allocated space, Chitragupta enquired with compassion, whether it liked pet dogs and has any second thoughts in accepting the reward. Concentrating fully on the reward and overwhelmed by Chitragupta’s kindness, it replied," I had a pack of them back then. I accept the reward without any second or third thoughts or whatsoever."

The moment he heard these words, Chitragupta hurried and meet Yamadharmaraj, who was patiently waiting in an adjacent chamber, to give him the good news. Congratulating his negotiator, Yamadharmaraj consulted with him about the placement of the soul. Without any hesitation, Chitragupta suggested "Sarameyadana" where 720 ferocious dogs will treat his sins. 

The verdict was delivered to the soul. Beaten, once again by death, the soul resigned to its fate, accepted the reward.

Chitragupta walked away nonchalantly from Yamadharmaraj, who was vigorously waving flags for Peace. 

A Soul confounds Yama (Part 1):

 Yamadharmaraj found himself in a bit of bother. Gone are the days when he could have leaned on to the shoulders of his erstwhile team-mate Chitragupta. Nowadays, it requires a prior appointment even to speak with him. Though he could approach Brahma, he knew what the outcome would be. Yet the issue confronting him, a lone politician's soul, was giving him nightmares and badly needed a Chitraguptan touch. 

He had to act fast as already considerable time has been spent by him, vainly searching for a solution. No doubt, it was a tricky problem but sending the ‘adamant soul' to its appropriate place was his duty and responsibility.

He directed his anger at the worn-out SOP volume, which he had searched line by line and word by word for an inspiration. Bleary eyed, he wished for the assistance of Chitragupta, who could conjure up a magical solution out of any one these pages. He wondered where in hell, oh no, where in heaven Chitragupta grabbed this trait.

He then turned his attention on the dossier of the adamant politician's soul. Though he had read it a number of times, each new reading hit him with a newer interpretation. Compelled to do his duty, he ordered the soul to be brought before him. Little did he realise then, that he would be taught a lesson in 'having the cake and eating it too'.

Yamadhramaraj riffled through the pages of SOP, mainly to establish the ground rules and let know who is in command. The politician’s soul sensed a trap and immediately raised an objection that prior reading of rules has not been allowed and shouted democracy has been murdered. Further to compound Yamadharmaraj’s difficulty, the soul levelled an accusation that his dossier has been collected violating privacy rules.  Sensing a further chance the soul threatened to go on a 'fast unto death', forgetting the fact that the politician has already breathed his last. 

This stumped Yamadhramaraj who never had come across such 'foreign' terms - democracy, privacy violation and fast unto death - scratched his head. Yamadhramaraj did not know how to respond. His worry-clouded mind failed to retort, “Yor are a dead matter now.” He surely missed the adroit Chitragupta, who would have readily replied and simply shown the soul its place.

He blamed himself, for irreparably messing up their working relationship. He knew that when the buck cannot be passed on, one has to pocket it and face the problem. At the present juncture, this wisdom did not offer any solution to deal with the problem. By hook or crook, he had to assign the politician's soul to its rightful place, as per cosmic law.

The second session did not end any better. He confronted the soul with the losses of lives and material, he had caused by way of organising agitations, bringing traffic to a standstill and intimidating commercial establishments. Without a pause, the politician's soul raised some funny sounding words, shouted, hopped over furnitures and overturned some of them, before exiting the chamber. Real worry started pulsating in Yamadharmaraj's mind, as to how he was going to manage this rebellious soul. He refrained from, though almost ready to press the panic button, requesting Chitragupta's help.

His authority under threat, Yamadharmaraj had forcibly brought the politician's soul, to get over with his sentencing and to dump it in the labyrinths of Yam Lok's hideous tunnels. He located the pages in the dossier listing the atrocities committed. He again underestimated the soul, after hearing the listed atrocities, who simply walked out shouting, "It is a black day for democracy and a plot to frame and defame me by vested unknown foreign influencers." Some more ‘foreign’ words started doing the rounds in Yam Lok.

Yamadharmaraj wanted to kick himself, hard and fast, for not mastering the art of convincing or negotiating (as a worst-case scenario) an unrelenting soul. Nightmares once again started to haunt him even during daytime. He fortified his resolve, by thinking that a flash flood can do only two things- destroy the bridge or recede under it. Finding himself at wits’ end and road’s end, he set out, at a trot, to the abode of Chitragupta, his trump card.

The Mouse trap

The world has come to such an impasse, driving the contestants and exit pollsters to clamour for a “fix”. Probably to keep aside some free time to deal with agitations and allegations against him, Ganesha had wisely passed on the burden to me – mused the Mouse.  The heavy duty unloaded on his small head worried the Mouse a lot. As he had watched his master from close quarters, dealing with issues, certain amount of confidence welled up in his whole body. Yet, politics, politicians and pollsters appeared to be a tough nut to gnaw and crack. 

Time appeared to be in his favour as the contests ran into several weeks, appeals and disposals could be dealt with in a phased manner. This was a huge relief. The Mouse decided to, use the time effectively, visit the constituencies and personally gauge the pulse of the electorate and assimilate sufficient background material. This would help him to address the issues of the applicants.  He prepared a comprehensive demography, constituency wise, and an antecedent synopsis for each of the received application pleading for a “fix.” 

Wherever election was scheduled, he noticed large gathering of men and women, waiting patiently under scorching sun. The Mouse climbed on to a barricade, to get a better view of the raised platform and the proceedings. He wondered why a large open space had been left in between the barricade and the platform? He could see speaker after speaker raising a hand and shaking the index finger at an imaginary target, demanding to know why? how?  when? Where? and other such words which could be attached with a question mark. The Mouse, on seeing and hearing this pantomime, got a little confused as did the crowd. He left the place thinking if the crowd cannot get anywhere near the candidate now, will they be able to do so after the election? His inner voice loudly proclaimed, “No.” 

Such incidents, where ever he went, did not discourage him. The Mouse became politically astute - had the pulse of the electorate and the roll of dice for contestants. This said and done, he recalled Ganesha’s advice – “Whatever be your opinion, you are to agree or disagree within the bounds of the individual applicant’s stated request.” Back from the round up of the constituencies, he planned to get familiar with the 'hit or miss.” games played in the poll prediction arena. After all pollsters too have applied for a "fix."

The Mouse segregated the wish lists broadly in to similar category. This served in two ways; same verdict for similar applications and the tabulated final pronouncements worthy for media dissemination, if media houses decide to do so. The compiled list of candidates contained glaring omissions and unspoken of commissions. No mention of good deeds they have done in the preceding years and no mention of promises to render good service now, to the electorates nor any gratitude to Ganesha. The Mouse chuckled, "As usual promises are made and forgotten till next opportunity comes for making newer promises.” He decided to count this as a demerit against the candidate. 

The hazy picture emerging after an election did not appeal in any way. Jumping shipman- ship, before, during and after an election appears to be a political DNA. They talk about ideology only to prove how easy it is to switch from one to another? Should such candidate get a pass.?

The defeated ones oppose everything, and the successful ones remind them their failures. At the end of term, both teams get ready to face the electorate with fresh manifestoes bearing novel ideas to drag the economy downwards. Strange ide ologies come together to form a ragtag coalition which survives solely on defection oxygen and daily visit to Intensive Care Units. The opposition takes to via Tarot cards, crystal gazing and other paranormal channels to predict the life expectancy of the coalition in number of days, months or years using Numerology”.

Since polling precedes counting, he decided to first focus on the pre-election appeals, keeping aside the post-poll issues for later. Similarly, pre-poll predictions will be dealt with first and the post-poll whining for later. He paused to wonder, “Why no appeals from panelists, who are always part and parcel of any live overage”?

Pollsters who enjoyed crunching numbers will go back to the drawing board, cursing themselves. The parties claiming landslide victory finding only an ankle-deep avalanche in their favour will leave for a 'retreat' to find fault and plan for the next hustings. He decided not to entertain their appeals- pre or post elections.

Panelists who come out with their own views, which the voters do not subscribe to, will start sending feelers for other TV debate opportunities. What to do till next election? The Mouse knew they will always survive and re-surface at appropriate times – so no pressure on them for seeking favours. Case can be dismissed, without scrutiny. Since the media house and the panelists really do not get ‘defeated’, where is the case for them to appeal? 

Before the start, the parties (the candidates) and pre-poll predictors are busy floating balloons in the air. As the polling progresses, some balloons are brought down, some get punctured and ballons of different colours occupy the vacated space. As the polling comes to a close, some more ballons of different colours vie for breathing space. Pollsters declare their poll of polls trying to hedge the bet. With bated breath, all of them wait for the outcome from various counting centers. Then parties, keep doors open and scramble to cobble a coalition with balloons of pleasing colours(parties). 

EVMs are another story. It is a love-hate machine. Designers of the machine and winning candidates love it; losers hate it. When losers win, they love it and the winners become losers they hate it. After all, it is at political fights. The Stand-alone EVMs are not going to appeal anyway!”

At this point, his little brain got overheated and almost started spewing steam through all the pores on the head. He wished that he too had a bigger head, as his master. He discarded the wish immediately, after realising  a bigger brain might alter his appearance and his balance too. Anyways, with a single-minded devotion, the Mouse completed the tough task. The report was very succinct. No public good will be served by your intervention. Promise of gratitude has not found a place in the utopian manifesto and hence the appeals do not have any binding value!"

Ganesha was not happy with the delay running into many extensions. In no mood to soft pedal and mince words, he breathed fire and said, "It is my mistake to outsource the matter of appeals in your hands. There was more than sufficient time yet, you could come up with the report only after a new cabinet has completed 108, sorry, 100 days in office."

The Mouse allowed the outburst to run its course and then said," Instead of a report, I have presented a doctoral thesis. My analysis and conclusions will have lasting value and is applicable to any election anywhere in the world. With great care, I have left a backdoor entry, for you Mylord, to absolutely deny every appeal addressed to you." 

He, then explained the complexity of the task and added," My brain has a meagre 70 million neurons, the human brain has 85 to 86 billion and Master, who knows how many neurons your brain contains? Why did you saddle me with such a heavy burden?"

Afterwards, the Master and Mouse were sharing a light-hearted moment. Ganesha, oozing compassion said, with a smile, " Did you not keenly observe the election scene and notice how hare-brained schemes propelled people to power. In comparison, your rat-brain did better than the best. Don't I know your capacity?” The Mouse had no answer for this and hurried to find out the neurons in a hare’s brain.

The Filter

Brahma emerged from yet another deep meditation and opened his multiple eyes. The eyes on his front face took a little while to focus and resolve to show Chitragupta, as the figure bowing in front of him. This act of delay in identification raised doubts in Chitragupta’s mind, as to whether he had lost the M P N S (most preferred person status) with Brahma. 

Sensing Chitragupta’s doubt, Brahma clarified, “I just now opened all my perception devices. Otherwise, I have trouble in concentrating on my meditation!” Surprised, Chitragupta asked, “Any mysterious issue encroaching into your thoughts to disturb meditation?” Chitragupta considered the long wait, in getting a response from Brahma, as an affirmative answer. He started to wonder what could be such an issue that prevented Brahma’s lips from uttering an immediate response!

As this unidentified issue started doing the merry-go-round in Chitragupta’s mind, Brahma was carefully choosing his words to reveal the issue playing spoil sport with his meditative efforts. For him, meditation, like breathing to living beings, was mandatory. The dilemma was how would Chitragupta feel about him when the issue gets revealed. It was unfair to make Chitragupta, to wait unduly for a long time. Brahma decided to go about it in a roundabout fashion and in the process to test Chitragupta’s acumen.

"Chitragupta, have you ever closely watched the behaviour of human beings on earth?"

"Oh, yes. On a few occasions, including our recent visit to earth, I did it from close, but uncomfortable quarters. Has this any connection to the current issue?"

" No. Chitragupta, but tell me what struck you as odd in the human behaviour?"

"Oh, nothing stood out really like a sore thumb. Am I missing something here?"

Brahma sensed Chitragupta's reluctance to readily engage in the discussion. He decided to go about it in another fashion.

" Chitragupta, what are the places on earth where you find a sizeable gathering of crowd?"

"There is no rhyme or reason for a crowd to gather at any given place and time. Has this anything to do with the issue worrying you?"

"Chitragupta, you are not getting the drift and catching the point. At least tell me, why they gather like that?"

"With all due respect, have I not answered this question in my previous reply!"

Still hoping to get an answer, Brahma pressed on," What will you do if you have an issue?"

Chitragupta politely replied, “I will solve it on my own."

Brahma heaved a sigh of relief as Chitragupta had unwittingly offered to help to solve the issue. Now that Chitragupta is onboard, Brahma said, “Why and how gods manage to keep their respective believers? And is there a finite count of believers at all times?"

Chitragupta’s expertise was in keeping ledgers involving simple additions and subtractions and totaling. To confuse the issue and to gain some time before answering these questions, he said " I cannot straight away come up with an answer. I have to brush up my understanding of exponentials, statistical inflation, conjecture theorems and timed-variable-depreciation. Over and above, I must have access to a supercomputing source."

Brahma got the feeling of stumbling through a dark tunnel, blindfolded. As usual Chitragupta had managed to eloquently complicate the issue to gain time. In comparison to Chitragupta's mathematical jargon, the basket of equations, he  used in Creation, appeared less complex. He wondered which of his heads should he scratch, shake or break. Definitely, Chitragupta has started to go in circles around him and the issue.

Chitragupta blinked his eyes, little more rapidly than usual, and started to mumble and jumble certain sounds in a very low tone. Brahma, however hard he tried, could not make out anything useful from the stream of sounds gurgling forth from Chitragupta’s mouth. Forced to wait, the thought of doing an express meditation appealed to him but shelved it as a futile attempt. 

Finally, Chitragupta started speaking his thoughts. “There is this dynamic interplay between supply and demand. Gods need it, believers supply it. When believers need it, gods are bound to reciprocate. As both involved parties are intelligent, there is an unwritten covenant that hints at a freedom-clause which in turn allows for taking deemed, appropriate action. The crux of the said covenant is, no specific guideline exists - implied or otherwise."

After hearing this preamble, Brahma started to hyper-ventilate. Unmindful of this, Chitragupta continued, "Gods have hit upon the idea of restricting the number of believers by resorting to a weeding technique."

"How?" asked Brahma.

"The process runs like this. You ask, I grant; you ask, I may grant; you ask, I will consider; you ask, I may consider; you ask I reject"

Brahma spoke, "Yes. Now I understand this vicious cycle, though it lacks clarity. Here you ‘refers to a believer’ and I ‘refers to a deity’ of the believer's choice. Am I correct?"

"Absolutely. This is how the gods filter the eligible/ineligible believers. I gave only the overview but there are many hidden sub-filters in place. For brevity’s sake, let me explain in simple terms: The gods have found out an easy way to reduce the rush of boon-seekers. Between them they have agreed upon a finite number of boons that can be granted. In addition, they have compiled a compendium of difficulties that can be visited upon the believers.  The devotee is submerged in woes and worries; many go out of breath and call it a day and some cling to their faith to face another day of woes and worries. This is how they narrow the field of eligible believers.”

“Chitragupta, you said both involved parties are intelligent. How then the believers outwitted the believed?”

"The earthlings are super-efficient, in reverse engineering of any process. They simply applied upgraded filters to exclude unsympathetic gods. Not to be out done, the believers have prepared a set tough question papers to weed out the unsympathetic to select more favourable ones. This keeps their faith going, for the time being, at least." 

Winding up his explanation, Chitragupta added, “Oh! I almost forgot to mention that both involved parties have found a common ground, in one respect. They blame it on Brahma’s syndrome.” 

Satisfied that he could sort out the issue, he turned to look at Brahma's face, who had already crossed the hallway mark in to a deep meditation. Wondering whether Brahma paid any attention to the comments made by gods and believers, Chitragupta quietly withdrew from the place, without disturbing the meditative environment.