The Mouse trap 243

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: 242

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.

Ganesha in a Fix: 241

The weather being unbearable, Ganesha waved his elephantine trunk and flapped the jumbo ears to ward of flies and humid air hanging around him like a blanket. He rued, for the umpteenth time, his decision to open his heart to the aspirants thronging the porticos of entrance examination centres. However, he realised this act of consideration ran three-fold: (1) To keep his idol bathed, dressed and bedecked with a few flowers (2) To keep the dependent vendors in business and earn a living and (3) To hold on to the thinning population of believers, still reposing faith in him as a fixer of difficulties.

In his overriding affection for his believers, he had slowly compromised the level of commitment required to become eligible to seek his help as a fixer. Even his elephantine mind could not anticipate the ingenious methods these seekers started to conjure up and employ to get his attention. He wanted to point out, with such a brilliance the seeker could have easily succeeded in their pursuits, without his help. He did not do so as he had to bestow benevolence and not lecture them. Yet he decided to use their level of innovation in an inversely proportional scale, he would design, to grade their eligibility.

What worried him was the increase in the workload to keep abreast of the level of innovations being brought to his consideration. Not only that, now he had to devise that appropriate grading scale, which should reflect his unbiased approach. He feared that if, by any chance, the existence of this secret scale becomes public knowledge what sort of litigations and allegations he may have to face? Whatever way he looked at it he ended up losing the game.

His mind wandered around and stayed on to a particular seeker, who came some time ago. The seeker had everything going for him but was suffering with self-doubt. On his own, it turned out, he did well and succeeded in his attempt and yet he believed that Ganesha did something for him. After lot of deliberations, the seeker decided to install a signage at the entrance as a thanksgiving offering. When the euphoria died down, Ganesha noticed that almost 80% of the signage was used up in proclaiming the seeker’s antecedent. Ganesh felt the seeker could have chosen a better way to express that gratitude.

The world has come to such a pause, that now even contestants and exit pollsters chose to seek his “fix” in addition to the entrance examinees. In hindsight Ganesha blamed his rash act to deny entrance to his father while standing guard duty. He could understand the “entrance” part but was perplexed with the “exit” part! The complexity brought in by the exit pollsters overloaded his brain for two reasons: (1) Unbearable summer heat wave and (2) Both events occurring one after the other. In his mind a curious thought flashed by "Why not let my companion Mouse handle the rat race of politics and the ever eager pollsters?"

Oh Ganesha!

Please reveal the questions in my dream and do not forget to hardwire it into my memory. I forget things easily.

Please make sure the others taking the exam, in my Centre, to slow down for some time and thereby forced to leave some of the questions unanswered.

Please cast a spell and make everyone, except me, to feel drowsy and struggle to answer the questions, to the satisfaction of the evaluator. 

Please ensure, whatever happens, do not permit re-examination. 

Though confused over pass mark or grace mark, I am clear in what I want: Rank mark. Will you make it possible? I assure you, whatever be the next exam I will manage it by myself.

Ganesha graded this seeker as best among other applicants. This seeker did not want to trouble other candidates and hopeful of doing it on his own next time, if gets the ranking mark now!

Ganesha cast his mind wide and far to search for a solution to extricate himself from any future allegations of bias. Finally, he hit upon the idea of turning the tables on each one of the seekers:

He revealed the questions and forgot to hardwire it into this seeker’s memory. He too can claim forgetfulness! He decided to slow down the ‘comprehension faculty’ of this seeker and thereby evened the odds of all of them. Ganesha decided to play the disappearing trick of written answers and made this seeker to re-write them from the beginning, as a valuable lesson for the future. This poor seeker did not know that even with grace marks getting a pass mark is doubtful. It perplexed why this seeker is bothering now itself about re-examination?

Ganesha spent considerable time to deal with the hopeful seeker. He did not want to be hard or very soft though the appeal for help was radically different from mound of applications he had scrutinized. The seeker while asking for a boon had unwittingly left a backdoor open, assuring to do better in the next entrance examination. Ganesha took pride in always granting a viable ‘wish’ to any seeker. After carefully reviewing the request, studying it for any hidden catch embedded craftily, Ganesh decided to grant the ‘wish’ to do better next time.

The mouse sitting by the left side of Ganesha screeched impatiently to know when it can start shredding the disposed application papers. Ganesha was in a fix to decide whether the papers are required to be kept safely for some more time. The hungry mouse pointed out that as matter had been settled ,he can dispose them off. 

Turning to his right Ganesha saw yet another mound of applications. For a moment he was scared whether the disappearing tricks he played on the candidates, during entrance examination, are catching up with him? The eager mouse clarified, “They are pre-election and post-election petitions from candidates and pollsters!” Ganesha pondered over the fact - EVMs are said to be stand alone, air-gapped and hack-proof. For quite some time he had been thinking 'if someone could gnaw at it, the mouse had the best chance of crunching it'! Ganesha hurriedly vacated his seat anointing (nominating) the mouse to adjudicate on this weighty issue. 

Laptop Gee: 240

Imaginch sat like a statue in front of his laptop. The screen, perhaps to tease him, stared back without straining any photons. Some of the keys have already announced their reluctance to respond to his touch. Even in this stalemated condition, Imaginch could not help but to recall the stand-off of top-notch gun fighters from the old wild west films. In the background, he even could hear snatches of the lilting music score of Ennio Morricone! He chided himself for, losing track thus in, daydreaming. 

Refocusing on his objective, he scrolled through streams of sent and responded messages, dating back to about six months. To ensure delivery to the recipients, he had used from e-mails to simple messaging services available and familiar to him. In addition, Imaginch had included crisp 'teasers' (on the sly, of course) such as (1)” Going down the memory lane is like rushing through the downward loop or struggling through the upward loop of a roller-coaster. A nauseating and frightening experience.  (2)  Better ask the horse whether it is thirsty before taking it to a trough of water. Or otherwise, the horse might ask you why you didn't check up before dragging it to the trough?” After each ‘send’ command he had expectantly awaited replies from among positive, negative or N I (Not Interested) options. 

His alter ego stepped in to point out that like a ripple, at the center of a pond, reaching the shore, the waves of Imaginch’s communication had reached relatives and their relatives and friends, his friends, their relatives and their friends. Even though both of them are rarely on the same page, it vehemently agreed with him that six months was unreasonably a long period of time to respond. The alter ago did not miss the opportunity to point out and criticize Imaginch for his failed sales pitch.

It was quite a disappointment to Imaginch, that none of the recipients had the time or inclination to send a reply. All he wanted was a confirmation that they had read, at least one of his texts. His alter ego ran an interference with him, urging to confront each one of them, by his usual communication mode. Pleaded with him to become aggressive and remind them of his attentive participation, whenever anyone of them needed him as a “sounding board.” It vociferously drew his attention that his hearing started to diminish from that “kind-gesture-time onwards.” The alter ego had this axe to grind - being constantly ignored. 

Like a liquid seeping through a tiny crack, the reality percolated downwards and collected as self-doubt. Imaginch’s alter ego readily absorbed this feeling, as any dehydrated sponge would do, and started scripting screenplays fueling the growth of self-doubt into helplessness.

Imaginch did not notice the sudden gathering of ominous black clouds and was startled by a whip lash of thunder after a blinding flash of lightning. The hesitant rain drops, falling sporadically, produced discordant notes. Soon, a heavy downpour, with gusting winds, commenced and the sound of pelting rain drops produced a mesmerizing effect, to say the least. He wondered at the way the branches and leaves of plants managed the fury of rain drops by simply bending without resisting. What struck him the most was the sight of a tall, lone tree, swaying and acknowledging the wind and rain. Branches, mostly bald without leaves, did not matter to it. Imaginch wondered whether the tree also agonised with communication gap!

As if waiting for a chance, the alter ego wagged its index finger and said, "Did you get the message? What if no one responds? Is it the reason you allowed self-doubt and helplessness to swamp you? Now that you have collected a laundry list of persons who could be taken off from your communication spectrum and is it not a positive outcome? You have no talent to be a salesman and still why did you try to sell your work product?" His alter ego had the last laugh – “Did I not watch your struggles and then struggled to understand your output? Believe me I had no choice.”

Imaginch had no answer to these admonishments and remembered his sly teaser about the horse. He understood if the work product is good, no salesmanship is required. He decided not to allow the horse to gallop on its own free will, anymore. With a long-drawn-out sigh, Imaginch closed down the laptop. He understood that it would be better if nobody knew about his ‘much ado about nothing’ and decided on " No more ripples in a pond brimming with water or bone dry." 

 Imaginch thanked the laptop, for not taking sides with his alter ego and not passing snide remarks. On a happier note, switched it off, for now.

Tour de' Brahma 239

 His eyes were surveying the surroundings, without actually capturing any sharp images. His ears were drumming with chatter, but not picking up any meaningful messages. His brain waves were jumping and skipping like a kangaroo. This state of looking but not seeing, listening but not hearing and thinking but not remembering made Brahma to wonder in which dimension he was currently residing!

This less than an attosecond experience of listlessness came to an abrupt end when Chitragupta appeared before him, like a ghost. Normally annoyed at this type of intrusion, he   overlooked itat this instant, as an idea clicked in his mind. With a bright smile, lighting the ambience and bathing Chitragupta in celestial shine, Brahma asked, “Are you ready to go on a tour with me, like the one you took with Yamadharmaj long ago?”

“Oh, that trip! It was actually a fictional narrative by an earthling.” Chitragupta replied and fondly recollected the frolic and fun filled outing. He continued, “The central plot was a mission to search, find and recover a bunch of records that have mysteriously vanished from Yam Lok and appeared on earth! The clever writer scripted it in such a way to show us in poor light, as if both of us only had fun and frolic on earth and nothing else. But by doing so, the writer managed to gain huge readership and I even heard movies too have been successful?”

Wondering why and confused by Brahma’s sudden desire, Chitragupta cautiously nodded his head. Now with Brahma in tow, what places he might be forced to visit - pilgrim centers or ancient forts and mountains or seaport, airport or a spaceport? Of course, another e pressing concern was what if Yamadharmaj also joined them? Worried about how to repurpose that tour to Earth after all these years, he wanted to know the context, itinerary and intent.

The ever-wary Chitragupta remained silent, trying to work out the possible angles, edges and wrinkles in this mysterious move by Brahma. He patted on his shoulders, by himself, for having nailed an agreement that prevented Brahma from using his, now famous, thought jamming device.

Chitragupta's silence placed Brahma in an awkward situation. During this time wheels were turning in his mind, making short work of raking and hoeing, on his sanity. To placate the frustrated heads, he decided to straightaway tell Chitragupta his plan and purpose for the tour. To sweeten the deal, he decided to add that Yamadharmaj will not be accompanying them and they will not be visiting temples dedicated to him.

Brahma wanted to impress the importance of the tour and said, “The spectrum of emotional upheavals experienced by all the living things happens according to a cosmic schedule. No surprises there. Yet a few milliseconds ago, I experienced a feeling of listlessness, devoid of sensory perceptions. That moment made me to realise that a field trip, to personally witness the behaviour of humanity under trying situations, might be a good diversion?”

Chitragupta did not expect the thunderbolt Brahma threw his way. “Of all the things on Earth, you wanted to select and study a family struggling to eke a decent living? Want to witness how earthlings manage to govern themselves!” – Chitragupta silently murmured, hoping Brahma’s ears would not pick his musings. With no escape route in sight, he forced himself to say “Yes.”

Choosing such a person for study proved a little difficult as Chitragupta applied many filters to the selection process. Brahma waited patiently, in the light of the former's familiarity with earthlings. Within hours - Chitragupta insisted on following earthly timings, the first window of opportunity opened. The chosen one came out of his work spot huffing and puffing, broadcasting his agitated mind. When he entered a hot beverage shop, Chitragupta signalled Brahma that they too should have a cup of whatever the earthling has ordered, as a conversation opener. 

Brahma, in a voice oozing with compassion, enquired, “You look stressed. What is the matter?" The chosen one, indicating his forehead, replied "It is all written in my head. That is the matter". Chitragupta surreptitiously cast a 180° glance at Brahma. Why? Because Chitragupta has heard this statement millions of times! With nothing else to do, Brahma suddenly found interesting things in the cup and saucer in front of him.

Taking turn Chitragupta probed further, “What exactly is the matter?" The chosen person blurred out, "Someone has misplaced a file, and I am blamed for being careless". With a furtive glance, Brahma took note of his underling’s discomfort. Why? Because Brahma knew the story! Finding himself cornered, Chitragupta took an instant liking for the geometrical shapes on the floor and cast his eyes downwards. 

Brahma silently implanted a location map of the missing file in to the chosen one's memory, to extend a helping hand. This prompted the person to get back to his work spot to resume the search. Brahma and Chitragupta waited till the end of the workday, and again enquired about the missing file. The chosen one was perplexed why these two strangers should take such an interest in the file.

Unable to curb his enthusiasm, Chitragupta asked," How do you feel now"? The chosen one replied in a barely audible voice," Luckily, I found the missing file though someone else got appreciated; if not, I would have got a reprimand. How can I change what is written in my forehead!" Mumbling 'twice is enough in a short period', Brahma hurriedly pulled Chitragupta along and rushed out to be near the chosen one's residence. 

There a few heavyweights were waiting at the door of his house. A mild shiver ran through Chitragupta's body. The hefties have come not to welcome but to collect a loan shark's dues. The default appeared to be that the chosen one had stood guarantee. Taking pity, Brahma sent a melting look at the hefties, made them to apologise and extend the deadline up to an undisclosed future date.

Appearing innocent, both of them approached the chosen one and enquired, "What is the issue now?" "The issue is an extension without a specific expiry date. Now my worries are whether my friend will repay the loan and when will the day of reckoning come for me? It would have been better if it got settled, one way or the other, today itself. Who can escape Brahma’s written will?”

This unsolicited intervention in the life of the chosen one, reminded them of the mess created by Yamadharmaj, in the recent past, and the works that had to be done by them to clear it up. As if on cue, they realised it, within milliseconds of each other. Simultaneously they came to the same conclusion that a change of scene was in order.

As they reached a street corner, a procession of cars swept past raising a mini dust storm. With watering eyes and dust choked voice Brahma telegraphed, “who, why and in such a hurry?” Chitragupta calmly replied, “Welcome to the world of politics. That caravan is probably doing a tour of shrines!” New to politics, that too of an earthly variety, Brahma looked confused. Shouldering the onus, Chitragupta explained, “It is fashionable to decry faiths and beliefs and customary to praise faiths and go around visiting shrines during elections.” Still confused Brahma asked, “How this helps, is it not contradictory?” Chitragupta patiently replied, “Exactly. Controversy keeps the politico in the news. The bashings keep a section of voters happy. The shrine rounds are to reach out to the 'offended others' on the eve of elections. Ultimately, what matters is winning an election”.

Harried and unconvinced Brahma persisted, “What happens if the politico wins or loses”? Chitragupta went suddenly quiet. Heart beats elapsed before he gathered up his courage to address the conundrum. In a feeble voice he said, “The winner starts all over again to decry faiths. The loser, as is wont, will blame it on the writing in his or her head!”

The caravan to the shrine perked up interest in Brahma, before he could react to Chitragupta’s last point. He asked, “Have you gathered any intelligence on this aspiring candidate?”. Pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts, Chitragupta started a narrative studded with twists, turns and unexpected jumps. After getting the picture and to err on the cautious side, Brahma wanted to wait for the aspiring neta's election result, what ever may be the case. It was a long wait and on the day of successful rejection of his candidature, Brahma followed the lone car travelling towards the same shrine. They saw the dejected candidate murmuring something, repeatedly and non-stop. as it in a trance.

Chitragupta looked at Brahma and indicated that they should move away from that place. After travelling some distance, Chitragupta said, "I think it is better to end our journey here and now". Brahma asked, "Why?". He replied, "That man in the shrine was murmuring if only he had known the writing in his head, he would neither have contested nor would have gone around any shrine."

Brahma felt utterly dejected by the act of being blamed for charting any living beings' fortune. His explanation that the saying has no connection whatsoever with him had always fallen on deaf ears. The engraved DNA refuses to accept and happily goes about with the blame game. Now is it time for him to worry about choosing a suitable power willing to relieve him from the blame game? 

Now it was the turn of Brahma to go silent. He started questioning the timing and merits of his decision to come on this tour. In the side lines, he had other doubts on his choice of bringing Chitragupta along instead of Yamadharmaraj. His silence kept on building up like clouds bereft of rains. He found himself alone in the same perpetual state of looking but not seeing, listening but not hearing and thinking but not remembering. This made him to rue this tour! Making up his mind he announced the decision to depart to familiar surroundings.

On the return journey Brahma told Chitragupta, "I could not even imagine the complexity in a human being. If they don’t have, they yearn for it; if they get it, then they worry about negative possibilities. One thing is clear, let us keep these office and election politics away from our life. Which shrines could we visit to seek blessings of which deity, if push comes to shove? I understand, from your in-depth analysis, that politician is like the one who touched a live wire. The hand will not release its hold from power till the end....?” 

Chitragupta stood speechless, wondering, “Is Brahma prepared to endure the pains of listlessness at home rather than being an official or a politician!” Aware that Brahma could not use the thought reader, Chitragupta chuckled to himself, “One head gives mild headache; many gives earthquake”. He chided himself for using this analogy as ‘quakes’ are not common in their Lok!

The Reader-Author 238

 

A chance meeting of two friends! Coming face to face unexpectedly, after many years, both blink; rake their memory tracks for a name. Finally, one of them blurts out the other’s name with a tentative drawl “are you not...?” Slow to catch the offered memory string, the other responds, and “oh...Yes. How you been”? Recollection crowding their minds and the need for a lengthy exchange of personal details pushes them in to a cafe’ for a hot cup of beverage.

Since their personal information is privy, let me leave them alone for a while. But this does not prevent me from imagining the predictable lines their conversation will take, because I am acquainted with one of them in a curious sort of way. You will know why? Not now, but somewhere down the line in this narrative!

During an invited visit, the friend could not take his eyes off from the shelf where books, separated in to two parts were on display. Serious doubts rose in his mind but hesitated to seek an explanation from the host.  Confused, he stared to think which one of them needed to consult a therapist!

The host decided to clear his friend’s unasked doubts and remove the confusion.  “Probably, you remember that I used to read at least a book or two in a week. That habit has not yet changed. It was difficult to feed my reading mill, in spite of getting these books from old book vendors or at reduction sales. I can sense your unspoken question – why should you continue to do so? Fair enough, but otherwise the effect would have been disastrous –literally. I would have gone out of my mind”.

Displaying curiosity and concern, the friend asked, “I see the books separated in to two parts. What forced you to do so? I hope not because your mind was slipping out of gears”!

“You are right about the force but wrong about the gears. I was getting frustrated, and the blame goes to the binder’s devil that sowed the seeds in the first place. Of course, my insatiable hunger to read played a secondary role, forcing me on a buying spree in stock clearance sales.

Let me explain. I came up with this term “binder’s devil” after a curious incident. I bought a trilogy in a buy 1 - take 3 - offer.  The eye-catching title “The Arctic thaws and simmers” by a bestselling author, based on an explosive geo-political backdrop, perked up my interest. With high hopes, I eagerly started to read the book, as soon as out of the shop. Little did I realise that disappointments and despair awaited just a volume away.

Fascinated with the narrative, I took up the second volume, running to 550+ pages, and landed in some sort of trouble, not with the direction the story was heading but with the sections of the book that have been uprooted and placed in different locations, as if to test the patience and skills of the reader to navigate. This totally spoiled my reading pleasure and with much consternation managed to finish. At the end, I felt like a hunter patiently stalking, not for a prey but the dislocated sections of the book.

My travails did not the end in the second volume.  After recovering from this shock, I started the final volume, running to 450+ pages, and this experience turned out to be a true nightmare. In this volume, pages were all at sea like castaways, hopelessly arranging themselves finding refuge wherever they could, as if possessed by their own free will.

This chaos not only spoiled the narrative but also doused my enthusiasm for the subject matter. Then and there I decided to name this mishap a “binder’s devil”.

The friend understood the frustration but had a question - “What this had to do with your act of rewriting of the second half of the books”?

The host replied, “Before answering that question, let me tell you one important thing I learnt from this experience. Be careful about the buy-one-get-one or buy-one-get three offers. They hide two factors: 1) Poor demand or the book remaining at the bottom of the bestseller list or 2) Bad reviews or complaints from readers or goof up realised by publishers themselves. What other simple solution exists to recover part of the expenditure other than offering buy- one-get free schemes? After this harrowing experience, mostly due to the active binder’s devil in the second half of many of the volumes, I decided to creatively rewrite only that part to my liking”. 

Accepting host’s explanation, the friend asked, “Why did you leave the first half intact?  The reader - author replied, “At least, I need the initial plot to move the narrative in the second half, but rest assured, my next attempt will be in that direction too”. Then the host handed over two original novels, along with his own version of the second part and requested him to read the original as well as the rewritten version for comparison and comments.

Few days later....

Having read the original and doctored version of the second half of the story, the friend came back, with a beaming smile and admiration. Before even getting settled, he poured out words praising the remastering skills the reader-author had come up with, to present the original novel, in a new light. He shared his thrilling experience in reading that legal-thriller and asked “Why did you select this run-of-the-mill legal thriller for your surgical attempt, even though you had no trouble from binder’s trouble? 

The reader-author replied, “Rewriting the second half of this book happened all of a sudden. But this legal thriller, which I expected to be like a Perry Mason novel to read, lacked the usual fire works in the court. Though the title “Innocent be hanged” was intriguing, halfway through the novel the plot gets mired in an investigative-legal quagmire, turning out an   anaemic and damp squib narrative. The novelist had argued the issues concerning legalities and lack of sufficient grounds in a lackadaisical manner to barely manage an acquittal”.

The friend persisted and asked, “Why alter only the second part and not the entire novel? Reader-author’s reply took the air out of the question’s sail. “Why innocence has to be proved by the accused incurring cost, social standing and future, in a trial?  For their part, the law enforcement officers get away without even a slap on the wrists for unfair accusation and foisting of an unnecessary trial. The exoneration does not help to wash away the stigma and rebuild whatever the defendant lost.

Could I have done it without legal education and then how did I manage it? By heavily leaning on Perry Mason type arguments and safely refraining from quoting relevant codes and subsections, including my own arguments for finding sufficient grounds to compensate the victim.  I finished the second half to my satisfaction.  I even managed to impute the actions of Judge, lawyers and prosecuting agencies without fear of standing in contempt of court!”

Dear reader, if you have not guessed the identity of “me” mentioned in the beginning, let me make it easier. It is me - my alter ego Mr. Imaginch! One of the two friends happens to be the one who kindly consented to read my doctored versions.

Yam survives, yet again! 237

Brahma endured the splitting headache, in all four of his heads. For a moment, in the haze of throbbing pain, wondered why he had been bestowed with four heads and wanted to confront that ‘power’ to demand the reason. Keeping his heads clear and maintaining four pairs of eyes and ears in good health was not an easy task. His doubt was whether his creation was an experiment that had gone terribly wrong and how could the ‘power’ overlook that aspect while experimenting? These burning questions further fueled the headache threatening to multiple explosions in his heads.

Unfortunately, at this very pain-filled moment, Yamadharmaj made his unannounced appearance. A withering laser-powered look from Brahma shook the very core of Yamadharmaraj’s soul and he scurried out like a frightened rat. 

As he exited, he saw his bet noir Chitragupta waiting for his turn, with a smile on his face and mischievous twinkle in his eyes. In no mood to interact, Chitragupta kept wondering about what would have transpired to make Yamadharmaj to bolt out like an uncorked storm.

Having brought the throbbing headaches under control, Brahma sensed the presence of Chitragupta waiting for an audience. He mused and heartily chuckled, "If Chitragupta is a pain balm, Yama is definitely the pain". 

Though Brahma already knew what the matter would be, he was eager to hear about it in Chitragupta’s words. He wanted to capture the underlying nuance from the style and inflections during the verbal delivery. Well aware of his master's desire, Chitragupta too played his part willingly, though he knew well that Brahma was not a fan of his timbrous voice.

As soon as Chitragupta entered, Brahman signalled him to switch over to telepathy. He felt it prudent to have a safety device in place, to ensure the spoken words remained secret and his ears stayed out of harms ways! He had not forgotten his doubt filled moments, during the “Portal of Boons" crisis briefing. That time he had harboured serious doubts whether Chitragupta was trying to whisper a secret message or to bite off his ears one by one! He knew, unlike Yamadharmaraj, Chitragupta was canny. Wisely he kept a remote control on hand to block out his own privy thoughts, from Chitragupta!

Chitragupta presented his compiled information on current issues that had the potential to rock Brahma’s throne.  Keenly paying attention to the inflections between words, and cadence in Chitragupta’s voice, Brahma had no doubt about the gravity of the situation, lurking beyond the spoken words.

Brahma: What brought Yama barging in, unannounced?

Chitragupta: He has two burning issues, but may I add that both are his own making.

Brahma: Elaborate but don’t start a new blame game.

Chitragupta: Not at all my intention. But the fact is the common thread connecting them is the nerds for whom he had granted a very long life.

Brahma: How it is relevant to his current problems? (Chitragupta, you certainly know how to swim without getting wet - Brahma chuckled to himself).

Chitragupta: Very relevant. if you would kindly recall the action plan you enforced and the software upgrades made to the “Portal of Boons” for routing the earthlings’ appeals to a merry-go-around cycle!

Brahma: Yes. The workload of gods and demigods has plummeted like a waterfall. Is it not good? 

Chitragupta: No. It has become the first issue confronting Yama now.

Brahma: Why so? Care to explain?

Chitragupta: If you so desire... The software upgrades had an add-on feature sneaked in by his nerdy friends. The nerds feeling neglected, added a drop box to the Portal, addressed to Yama. It is not a “secret of Brahma” to know that it gets filled only with hate mails. The catch is, as fast as Yama recycle- bins them, many more mails flood the drop box! This is the second problem.

Brahma: (acting angry) Why should you drag my name in Yama's mess?

Chitragupta: Bear with me; I only quoted what the earthlings often say when they do not comprehend life's travails. They blame everything on "Brahma has written it so" or “who knows what Brahma wrote into my head”.

Brahma: Ok, ok . Don’t dwell too much on those sayings. Have you worked out ideas to solve Yama’s problems?

Chitragupta: If you guide me, I may prepare a document and submit it the soonest.

Brahma: Do. (switching the remote to jamming mode, scratches his heads, feels his headaches raising and mumbles – Chitragupta, you are acting more like a section head reporting to a boss).

Chitragupta not in the habit of letting go of an opportunity, started the work on a plan, as soon as he exited Brahma's abode. Under pressure or in deep thoughts, he liked to watch his toes while walking, a subconscious act over which he had lost control. Today his homeward journey was no exception. Well aware of this peculiarity, the inhabitants of Brahma Lok stood aside to give him a collision free passage. 

At home, he mentally reviewed the antecedents of all the cyber nerds. Patiently, layer by layer, he peeled back their life history to spot any tiny flaw which he could exploit to gain a bargaining chip. Now and then, he felt the presence of an unknown entity watching over his shoulder. He could not guess that Brahma, who after jamming Chitragupta's other sensory channels, was micromanaging watching the work in progress. 

Chitragupta finally located two possible candidates for further work. One nerd has hopes to fulfill a dying wish - to appear and clarify his doubt, in person, with Brahma. The other nerd, feeling neglected both by Yama and other nerds in the scheme of things had turned a dissident and wanted retribution. Chitragupta was caught in two minds - to rush with the findings of a breach now or to inform Brahma after finalising a complete action plan. He decided on the later course as Brahma disliked neither loose ends  nor or loose cannons.

At the first available opportunity, Chitragupta met and explained his plan and said without forgetting, “if acceptable to Brahma " at the end. Brahma wistfully smiled at him, though he wanted to tweak to Chitragupta’s ears with force, as a warning to curb his naughtiness.

Taking the smile as a green signal, Chitragupta called the selected nerds and started preparing their minds for the tasks he was to assign them. The nerd, who wished to seek clarification from Brahma, was tasked to create a backdoor entry to Yama's drop box. Chitragupta planned to let loose a homegrown worm to automatically erase the hate mails as soon as they were being created at the sender's system. The nerd, glad to be granted a meeting with Brahma, promised to go one step further – to infest the connected networks, disabling them for an unspecified time or crash them altogether. As an added bonus, the nerd was gladly willing to introduce a “timer” to delay restarting attempts. In his mind's eyes, Chitragupta could visualise the withering and dying of Yama's drop box threat.

Coaxing the second nerd to turn ‘agent provocateur’ took some skillful neuron manoeuvres, coupled with glib talk. At the end, like gusting wind blowing away sand particles, Chitragupta managed to clear away self-doubts and feelings of allegiance from this nerd’s mind. Given the time, the nerd promised to convince others to accept whatever plan Chitragupta came up with. This spirited nerd, in a rush to seize the golden opportunity, failed to grasp the hidden agenda in Chitragupta’s articulated “flowing and flying” gestures and sweet talk.

The nerd with a death wish broke all network speeds to fashion a backdoor entry to let in a cross-network slider worm. Immensely pleased with the demo, and ordering a hold, Chitragupta rushed to inform Brahma. Perplexed, Brahma asked Chitragupta, "What is so special about this worm? He didn't expect the answer he got. Chitragupta like a salesman explained: It is truly a ghostly worm scripted by a spirited nerd. No firewall protection known to earthlings will stop it, because it just seeps through without attempting to breach. 

After briefing the readiness status, he requested a formal approval. The taciturn Brahma easily spotted the "blame game" ball Chitragupta was trying to pass on to him. After sliding the remote to jamming mode, he chuckled to himself thinking, yes alacrity does have a downside too!

The nerd who wanted to ask about Brahma's secret finally had the chance but before the question could be posed, Brahma looked at the nerd and said, “If every living being gets to know the second -by- second forecast, will there be fun and thrill? Will there be variety? Will that life be full or interesting? The list goes on and on and ends as Brahma’s secret. Actually, it is not a secret but kept as secret to make it sound like a secret”. Chitragupta raced to the edges of his sanity after hearing Brahma’s thought twisters, worrying whether Brahma had suffered a form of stroke.

Brahma:(addressing the two nerds) In my creation, even though it is microscopically tiny and appears insignificant, an electron plays a very important function - helps to transfer energy for various life- functions. It is a super surgeon capable of repairing damaged DNA. It has successfully held back photons from lighting up the Universe for a considerable time. The time scale is beyond your reckoning or comprehension. Likewise, your tiny soul, after departure from your body has other purposes in my cycle of creation. Your hoodwinking of Yama and his negligent act of granting extension to your life tenure are acts that violate and disrupt the natural order of this cycle. Realise and voluntarily relinquish. By this act, you would clear the path for the other pre-ordained and already waiting life forms to emerge and complete their life cycles. Who knows, you might have a better purpose waiting there!

Being enervated by these wise words, the nerds vowed to convince the other nerds on the importance of the life cycle. This repeated audio play-back of Brahma’s wisdom acted like flowing water and swirling wind eroding rocks on the mountains, whittled down the desire of the nerds and one they by one decided to relinquish their extended existence and leave for the promised good. A beaming Brahma bade them farewell, heaving a huge sigh of relief! 

Chitragupta did not fail to notice the guarded words Brahma had just used without actually assuring anything! A train of thoughts chugged through his mind. The promises made to the departing nerds are they really promises or words that appear like promises?  When Yama would be called and what Brahma would say to him?  

He thought if I have to say it like Brahma will it be like this: “Actually …..” but before he could form the phrases, Brahma looked at Chitragupta and said, " I know you are also eager to know what is the secret that you referred to in the beginning. It is nothing but warning signs posted, in the path of life, to mend ways. The journey's end will be same, though it will pass easier or harder as the case may be. Of course, the signs are kept invisible to keep the living beings on a tight leash..

Chitragupta, “I can access your inner thinking at will. None of your snide/sarcastic comments, ever, pass by me. Sometimes I too enjoy them. I will tell you this secret – you don’t know what is written in to your head, so be careful and don't cross the limit”.

The admonishing voice faded and when Chitragupta came out of his reveries, Brahma had already left the place.