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 |   As the first blog entry got exhausted. My second book |
| Evolution of Love Part 2 |
| My father used to have, saying always, if you make a bad bargain, hug it all the tighter. I'd like to live as a poor man with lot of money in my pocket. Wealth is like a sea water--The more we drink, the thirster we become, and the same is the truth of game. If we command our wealth, we be rich and free from mental worries. If our wealth commands you we are really poor and dead. The best thing money can buy is financial freedom. My formula for success is rise early, work hard upto late and there is no substitute for it. If you don't get serious about your money than you will never have serious money. Money is like, a shadow while you try to catch it you can't but when you move forward it follows. Don't wait for approval. Not everyone will understand your vision. |
| IKEA is the world's largest furniture brand. With annual sales hitting ~$50B+, it's the King of "buy stuff you never planned to buy". Unsurprisingly, IKEA designs its stores with various psychological tricks to get you to spend more money. Here's are 12 of them. 1/ IKEA's first psychological hack is the business model: sell furniture that requires the effort of self-assembly. A 2011 Harvard study found people assign higher value to self-assembled goods (willing to pay 63% more vs. pre-assembled).Shocker: it's named "The IKEA effect" 2/ Store locations : IKEA stores also require "effort" (and time) to get there, with many of the chain's 440+ locations outside of big cities and in suburban areas. Once a shopper arrives after a long trek, they'll be motivated to buy something so as to not "waste the trip". 3/ Store flow: The "effort" continues in the store: first, you walk through IKEA's "showroom" (including 50+ inspirational settings.) After travelling 1km+, you pick up furniture in the "market hall". Subconsciously, buying goods is a reward for all the distance you've covered. 4/ Maze-like design: IKEA as a maze is a popular meme...but also true. Even though there are exits and shortcuts, the store is designed for a shopper to see everything on offer in the showroom. And, again, the "effort" of solving the maze increases the perception of value. 5/ Guiding arrows: The maze-like design is complemented by floor arrows that guide shoppers. This is another hack: you are handing over your decision-making (where to go) over to IKEA. This is psychologically disarming and primes you for a later purchase. 6/ Desensitizing environment: Like casinos, IKEA's showrooms and market halls don't have windows. Shoppers lose sense of time and space, staying focussed on the task of shopping. 7/ License to impulse buy: IKEA places small items everywhere: â»ïž Next to big-ticket items (eg. plates on a kitchen table) these look like a deal â»ïž Since it's a maze, you often pick up items "just in case you don't come back" â»ïž One purchase decision opens up the buying spigot. 8/ Writing down a list: IKEA makes pencil/paper available to write down the item # you want to pick up. While it's a memory aid, the act of writing plays on a classic persuasion hack: consistency. Once you've written down an item, you'll want to "follow through" on a purchase. 9/ In-store dining : IKEA's founder Ingvar Kamprad said "You can't do business with someone on an empty stomach." IKEA's have cafes where shoppers recharge, talk over potential purchases and -- crucially -- stay in the store longer. Insanely, IKEA sells 1B+ meatballs a year. 10/ Great value : IKEA has a "democratic design approach". It reverse engineers a product based on price first. The Scandinavian aesthetic (simple, clean designs) lends itself to furniture that can be "flat-packed" for easy pick-up. Also, self-assembly reduces cost (and price). 11/ Mirrors everywhere: It's no secret why: we're narcissists and can't keep eyes off of reflections of...ourselves. IKEA brings out this positive emotion by placing mirrors literally everywhere. 12/ The power of smell: Finally, IKEA's famous cinnamon buns are often placed near checkout. Smell is extremely powerful for memory recall. IKEA is linking what should be the most painful part of the experience (buying) with the soothing scent of home baking. |
âThe thoughts in the mind of the company around and behavioral confusion are caused by the surroundings. This confusion arises when one has to mix with those who are not introverts. One has to go above the waves after having a dip in the ocean. Man should take such an attitude. It is suggested to take pure food, to have the right mindset, to be well behaved and to read spiritual texts so that confusion cannot arise. From whom the creation came forth, move in the way and direction towards THAT. You can manage everything if the power comes from that source.â |
| Why only Indians are Reborn (based on the Karma system) Angel Gabriel came to the Lord and said: "I have to talk to you. "We have some Indians here in Heaven and they are causing problems. "They are swinging on the Pearly Gates, my horn is missing, they are wearing Dolce & Gabbana saris instead of their white robes, they are driving Mercedes and BMWs instead of chariots, and they're selling off their halos at discounted prices. "They refuse to keep the stairway to Heaven clear or clean, since they crouch on the stairs midway, eating samosas and drinking chai (tea). "They do not believe in discipline, and push their way through the line!" The Lord said, "Oh, Indians are Indians! Heaven is home to all my children. If you want to know about real problems, give Saitan a call." Gabriel calls Saitan on the phone. Saitan picks up the phone,"Hullo! Saitan here." Gabriel - "Are you having any problems with the Indians in Hell?" Saitan says: "I'm sorry, Gabriel, I can't talk right now. "I am having a terrible time! "These Indians are installing air conditioning and are trying to make Hell a comfortable place to live in by putting out the fire, which is there to keep them sizzling hot !! "Since they are so tech savvy, they are making a telephone and Internet connection between Heaven and Hell, between ME & GOD !! "They have started a network Social Service for the Troubled, and are excellent in convincing others. "Some have opened a Chai Dukan with Bhajia, Khandvi, Dhokla, Chakli, Pau-Bhaji, Idli-Dosa, Samosa, Barfi, Kulfi, which I tried to stop. "They are corrupting everyone, and bribing my staff. "I have difficulty in controlling the graft and corruption in Hell. "They never complain, as this place seems to be better than from where they came! "I therefore request, "Oh GOD, PLEASE, as soon as Indians arrive, send them back to earth - for re-birth." đđđ So now you know â "Why Indians are the only ones that are re-born.." đđ đ€Łđđđ |
Viswanatha Swami (1904-79), a distant relative of Sri Ramana, was brought up by the Maharshiâs mother. He fully surrendered himself to Sri Ramana in 1923 and till 1950 spent most of his time either with the Maharshi or with Ganapati Muni (no. 91). He was a scholar of Tamil and Sanskrit and translated many Ashram publications into Tamil. He edited The Mountain Path for some time and authored the famous Ramana Ashtotra. In my first darshan of Bhagavan at the Skandasram the very sight of him thrilled me. Something very subtle, seemingly with its centre in that body, shone forth, without limitation, engulfing everything else. I felt swallowed by it. I stayed for a week with Bhagavan in that atmosphere of utter purity and serenity. I saw in Bhagavan something quite arresting, which clearly distinguished him from all others I had seen. He seemed to live apart from the physical frame, quite detached from it. His look and smile had a remarkable spiritual charm. When he spoke, the words seemed to come out of an abyss. One could see immaculate purity and non-attachment in him and in his movements. I sensed something very lofty and sacred about him. In his vicinity, mindâs distractions were overpowered by an austere and potent calmness. In his presence the unique bliss of peace was directly experienced. This I would call Ramana lahari - âthe blissful atmosphere of Ramanaâ. In this ecstasy of grace one loses oneâs sense of separate individuality and there remains something grand and all pervading, all devouring. Some ofthe ten devotees living with Bhagavan at the Skandasram used to sing Tamil songs in praise of Subramaniam.[Son of Lord Siva.] Bhagavan used to keep time by tapping with two small sticks on the two rings ofan iron brazier in front ofhim.While Bhagavanâs hands were tapping, his unfathomable look of grace gave a glimpse of the beyond in silence. It was an unforgettable experience. One morning, a devotee was singing with great fervour âRamana sadguru, Ramana sadguru, Ramana sadguru rayane. â [Sri Ramana is the true Master and our Lord.] When Bhagavan also joined in the singing, the devotees were amused and began to laugh. Bhagavan then commented, âWhat is extraordinary about it? Why should one limit Ramana to a form of six feet? Is it not the all-pervading divinity that you adore when you sing âRamana sadguru, Ramana sadguru?" Why should I not join in the singing?â We instantly felt ourselves in agreement with Bhagavan. Once when Niranjanananda Swami told Bhagavan that I could recite hymns in Sanskrit, he looked at me expectantly and I had to recite a few verses. When I had finished, Bhagavan gently looked at me and said, âYou have learned all this. Not so in my case. Before I came here I knew nothing and had learned nothing. Some mysterious power took possession of me and effected a thorough transformation.â Once I asked Bhagavan as to how I could rise above my animal existence. He replied with great compassion, âIt is only by awakening a power mightier than the senses and the mind that these can be subdued. If you awaken and nurture the growth of that power within you, everything will be conquered. One should sustain the current of meditation uninterruptedly. Moderation in food and similar restraints will be helpful in maintaining the inner poise.â He added, âSo long as you identify yourself with the body, you can never escape sex thoughts and distractions.â Bhagavan was opposed to any sort of waste or extravagance. Once he scolded me for wasting kerosene in lighting the charcoal stove, when the same results could be got with dry twigs and leaves lying around. On another occasion, while visiting Ganapati Muniâs room at Palakottu where I was also staying, Bhagavan saw scraps of paper of about 1â x 6â size on the floor, which were leftovers from cutting some sheets of paper to a uniform size. He wanted to stitch these pieces together and make a little notebook of the size of a thumb and use it for writing something on. To save Bhagavan the trouble, I offered to do it myself. Later, he was happy to see 108 verses of the Indra Sahasra Nama Stotra, copied in the tiny notebook. Bhagavan scrutinized not only the contents of the notebook but also its stitching and general appearance, as was his way. He then exclaimed with pleasure, âYou have kept your promise and made the best use of the bits of paper.â V. Mani Iyer, a senior schoolmate of Bhagavan, noted for his physical strength and rough dealing with anybody whom he disliked, was known as âRogue Maniâ. He accompanied his mother to Tirupati. She wanted to break her journey at Tiruvannamalai for Bhagavanâs darshan, while going back home to Madurai. Mani agreed on the condition that he should be allowed to drag the bogus sadhu by the ear and bring him back home. However, on reaching the Virupaksha Cave, Mani looked and looked at Bhagavan, and got more and more puzzled as he did so. There was no trace of the ordinary boy Venkataraman whom he had known. He saw an effulgent Divine Being seated in front of him, absolutely still and silent. His heart melted for the first time in his life, tears rolled down his cheeks and the hair stood on end. He fell prostrate before Bhagavan and surrendered to him. He became a frequent visitor and a staunch devotee of Bhagavan. Those who were spiritually evolved had no difficulty in recognising Bhagavanâs state. One such person was Narayana Guru of Kerala. He once visited Bhagavan at the Skandasram. At lunch time Bhagavan invited him to eat with him and other devotees. After reaching Kerala, he wrote five verses in Sanskrit, calling them Nirvritti Panchakam, describing Bhagavanâs way of obtaining the inner felicity and sent them to Bhagavan. In later years, Narayana Guru used to be greatly pleased whenever his disciples visited Bhagavan, and on their return he would listen with delight to details of their visit. |
| Question: How can I know which is the true path? Answer: If you sit with all doors and windows closed, how can you see the path? Open the door and step out; the path will become visible. Visitor: I have no spiritual aspirations; I am happy as I am. Answer: That is good; we also are talking of happiness. If you have found the secret of happiness why do you make this statement instead of being in this state for all to see? She smiles, the visitor laughs and acknowledges that it is so. To be with God is true happiness. The multifarious kinds of beasts, birds, men - what are they all? What are these varieties of shapes and modes of being, what is the essence within them? What really are these everchanging forms? Gradually, slowly, because you are rapt in the contemplation of your Beloved, He becomes revealed to you in every one of them; not even a grain of sand is excluded. You realise that water, earth, plants, animals, birds, human beings are nothing but forms of your Beloved. Some experience it in this manner; realisation does not come to everyone in the same way. There are infinite possibilities and, consequently, which for any particular person is the specific path along which the Universal will reveal itself in its boundlessness, remains concealed from most individuals. |
| *RETIRED HUSBAND* đ After I retired, my wife insisted that I accompany her on her trips to Pick & Pay. Unfortunately, like most men, I found shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out. Equally unfortunate, my wife is like most women - loves to browse & leaves me with endless time to fulfill. Yesterday my dear wife received the following letter from the local Pick & Pay. Dear Mrs. Morland: Over the past six months, your husband has caused quite a commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to ban both of you from the store. Our complaints against your husband, Mr. Morland, are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras: 1. June 15: He took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in other people's carts when they weren't looking. 2. July 2: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals. 3. July 7: He made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women's restroom. 4. August 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told the children shoppers he'd invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department, to which twenty children obliged. 5. September 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose. 6. September 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were. 7. October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled âPICK ME ! PICK MEâ ! 8. Took a box of condoms to the checkout clerk and asked where is the fitting room ? And last, but not least: 9. October 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited a while; then yelled very loudly, âHey! There's no toilet paper in hereâ. One of the clerks passed out. Enjoy Life - It has an expiry date ... đđđ€Ł |
| You can only become truly accomplished at something you love. Don't make money. Your goal instead pursue the things you love doing and then do them as well that people's can't take eyes of you. If money is your hope for independence, you will never have it. The only real security that a man will have in this world is a knowledge, experience hard work, determination and your ability to develop in life. The real measure of your wealth how much you would exist in this world if you lose all your money. Money is a terrible master, but your own excellent servant and guider. Try to save something why your salary is small, it's impossible to save after you begin to earn more. The individual investor should set consistently as an investor and not as a speculator. I' m a great believer in LUCK and find harder, even I work the more I have it. You must have gain control over your hard earn money or the lack of it will forever it will control you. |
I sometimes wonder... what if this universe was devoid of all reflective surfaces! What if there were no mirrors? What if we didn't know what we look like? What foundation, then, would our towers of vain be built on? What would become of our narcissistic pursuits? Would we even bother to doll up and blow vanity bubbles... or seek reciprocity in vanity-fueled romantic quests? Be passionate? Be alive? Natural beauty takes 2 hours in front of the mirror, says Pamela Anderson. With no mirrors around, a multi-billion dollar global cosmetic industry would possibly be consigned to flames of redundance. Beauty would then truly lie in the eyes of the beholder. Going about our morning ablutions, we look at the mirror and strike a spontaneous connect with our alter-ego. We smile. We grimace. We explore random expressionsâŠseeking perhaps a subconscious validation of our existence in this world... reassuring ourselves that we are still alive. Vanity, ego's wild child, lives in a world of its own. Itâs nebulous and can crash at the site of unaesthetic proportions. So when we look into the mirror, we have already decided what WE want to see. No wonder they say that a monkey is superior to a man. When he looks into the mirror, he sees a monkey! Each one of us has our own private affair with the mirror. My mirror and me too have spent some blissful decades in perfect harmony. But of late, this affiliation seems to be on the wane. Our mutual trust is giving way to mounting trepidation. Age is catching up with my one-time siliconâfidante. It's losing its ability to reflect the 'true' me... and seems to only believe in surface appearances (although a school of thought says, thank god mirrors show us our appearance only). Show me a guy who says that a mirror never lies, and I'll show you two liars. During my salad days, whenever a bubbly me peeped into the mirror, a mint-fresh face smiled back, giving me a quick vanity rub. Today when the same vivacious me looks at this darn honey-trap, it throws back an unfamiliar wrinkly face that deflates my 100-watt smile to a zero watt sulk. It's clear that I'm no longer the extraordinary vision that used to set my mirrorâs pulse racing. Once I shared a karmic connect with my alter-ego camping on the other side of the mirror. Today we are as disparate as geese and cheese. I am still the young chirpy girl who loves to sing in the rain, dance with abandon, wear the freakiest of clothes, and lead a bohemian lifestyle with all caution thrown to the wind. But my alter-ego is this stodgy matron with a unicolor personality palette. Sheâs a predictable wife... a predictable mom... a predictable grandmom... living life in a prescribed manner. Time is gradually tolling my routine faculties and I can see my memory slide down the retention ladder with sadistic glee. Time is also reflecting in my invisibility to strangers. Epoxy eyes now just slide past me... salesmen look through me... and young men at parties couldn't care less whether I wore an LBD or Santa's costume. People often tell me I look younger than my years and express shock when I mention my age. You are not, they say, and I assure them, with grim relish, that I am. Then I notice them scan me from the corner of their eyes for tell-tale signs of augmentation jobs. Suddenly I start feeling like a creep in a sheep's clothing â the proverbial mutton dressed as lamb. I don't really know whether to rejoice the moment or regret it.đ Each one of us has earned a slot within our peers' Attribute Recall Parameter through a USP (unique selling proposition) -- a kind of epithet deployed by them to remember us: intellectual.. smart.. intelligent.. humorous.. witty.. pretty.. and so on. While most attributes, like wine, only improve with age, the last one, like beer, comes with an expiry date. So in the prescribed checklist, if pretty is what you are ticked against (for some reason), every fresh wrinkle that sprouts on your face are bound to give you a dollop of extra grief than usual. In my case, as mother nature merrily goes sprinkling wrinkles on my face, I worry about developing some sustainable faculty (blogging, for instance !). As Emily Fox says, "at the end of middle age, nearly every blessing is hinged to a curse that has fallen on someone else. At least I donât have varicose veins; at least I donât have a bald spot; at least I donât have a dowagerâs hump. Surely thereâs a diminishing utility in these kinds of comparisons, which extend seamlessly from minor gloating to deadly schadenfreude. (At least I havenât lost my mind. At least Iâm not alone.)" I also have a JV with Emily Fox's claim that as decline starts ascending, our understanding of fellow women improves. The camaraderie deepens as our sags and wrinkles unite us in kinship. Why just women, I understand men better too. Their insecurities. Their triumphs. And their testosterone subjugation. How could I have missed it as a teenager? My empathy meter is better calibrated now. I react less, understand more. The rough outer layers of my personality are peeling off. A serene sweetness is being unraveled gradually. My mood colors are less borderline. I no longer pendulate from pits of melancholy to peaks of ecstasy. I am candid yet compatible. Laconic, yet lively. I am better at containing my impulses and reigning in my reactions. The moral nonchalance of yesteryears is gone. The buoyant self-destructive disposition has given way to conscientiousness and prudence. My mind is still agile but the innards feel a bit fragile. Drinking binges have dried to a trickle. An extra shot of vodka or a reckless indulgence in fried comforts is enough to make me feel poisoned. I can no longer pop a piece of chocolate randomly in my mouth. As the appetite shrinks, awareness of the difference between gourmet and gourmand expands. I am more disciplined about my workouts, my eating habits, about popping my garden-variety pills âthose potent arrows in my quiver of rejuvenation. Though not exactly gasping at the thought of personal extinction, I want to do my bit to supplement mother nature's effort to keep me healthy till my last day. My efforts are less a byproduct of the vagaries of vanity, and more an attempt to establish a deeper connect with the inner me. When I look good, I feel good. When I feel good, I feel healthy. And if health is wealth, I feel like a million bucks. Life's good and as for the youth gone yonder, I can only say Thank You for the Music. To say otherwise would amount to ingratitude. So chronologically I'm going to grow forever, but biologically, I pledge to be Forever 21. And here's how I'd like to sum up my half -a-century-plus on this planet âŠ. |
Sher Singhji survives serious illness through Ma's grace My Nanaji, Ch. Sher Singh ji fell ill and his illness took a very serious turn. His family doctor Durga Prasad ji was out of station. Munna had gone to Pundri to father Lal Naurattan Singh ji who was in his house in Pundri. Sher Singh ji, his wife, daughter, myself & Sacchu were in Dehradun house. Some relatives who were interested in Doonga properties, seeing the opportunity, shifted to Sher Singh's house with their full paraphernalia of stafff on the pretext of looking after the old man, who was almost breathing his last. Treatment of Sher Singh was being supervised by the Civil Surgeon of Dehra Dun, who was of a British nationality. This was during the British rule in India. They also started tĂĄntric practices in the house, which we came to know later. Owl nails were found tied to the cot of Sher Singhji and other "Charms" etc. were also used. Their family Doctor was employed. Payment to the doctors & treatment was made by their managers. My mother was only weeping and calling upon Ma to save him. At this moment my Chhoti Nani took a very bold step, She said that she was going to Ma with my mother (daughter of Sher Singh ji). Ma was at Kishenpur Ashram. Nani ji could not get even her own ear. She was told that they had gone to bring doctors and nurses. So Nani ji with my mother walked all the distance to Ram Singh's residence. He was also a great devotee of Ma. Ram Singh bhal took the ladies in his own car to Ma at Kishenpur. Ma was told about Sher Singh's illness. Ma immediately accompanied them to Sher Singh's house. Now the problem came, Ma never entered any building of a house-holder. The residence of Sher Singh was in the upper storey with shops on the ground floor. Ma climbed the stairs and waited on the top stair. Sher Singh's room was across the verandah and a large room. He was in his bed. Naniji wanted to lift him and bring him to Ma. Doctor and the rest of the party was against this and warned that if they even moved his bed they would be responsible. At this my Nani ji asked me to lift the bed from one side and lifting the bed herself on the other side, we lifted the cot and brought Sher Singh ji into the verandah. Nana ji's face was towards the stairs. Ma seeing him spoke, "Pitaji, every thing will be all right" and blessed him by lifting her hand with that compassionate look in her eyes. Sher Singh ji saw Ma and with shaking hands he lifted them to join in pronam, a drop of tear trickled down his face. Ma was gone, we shifted him to his bed room. Sher Singh jis family doctor Dr. Durga Prasad arrived. All others, who were there with evil intentions gradually left our house. Sher Singh ji recoverd soon. This was all Ma's play. Jai Ma I had a great liking for alcohol those days and a stage came when I became a complete alcoholic. I was taken to Ma by my mother and my head was put at her feet forcefully and was told that I drank heavily. Ma looking at me, said, "Robi, alcohol, "chi-chi"â ." Now I don't even remember that there was anything like it. I am now completely free from it. Jai Ma. Ma forbids shikar in the vicinity of the temple Munna ji, my elder brother, was staying in Doonga with his close friend Keshav Kukreti. Programme was made to go for fowl shooting. So beaters were called from the village. Beating was started from north to south with shooter taking position at the southern end in the jungle on the slopes between Swarna river and Doonga village. Beating of the bushes with sticks and loud noises, throwing stones in the bushes so that fowls & pheasants would fly southward toward the shooters. Other animals like wild boar etc. would also run towards the shooters. Munnaji and Keshavji had taken up their positions in front of the Doonga temples, a distance of say 200 feet. All of a sudden they saw an antelope running and stopping at a distance of say 40 feet in front of them. Munnaji saw it with his gun ready, but was watching its unusual large eyes. He was as if hypnotized; people sitting next to him started murmuring, 'shoot 'shoot. Without intention he aimed and fired. The animal jumped upwards & fell on the other side in the bushes. The beaters closed in and enquired as to what had been shot. Munnaji told them pointing towards the direction to go and fetch the antelope lying in those bushes. All of them went to the spot. They saw a few drops of blood but the antelope was not there. They searched the area thoroughly, no sign. After sometime Munnaji who was sitting at the same place fainted and was supported by Keshavji. He was carried to Doonga Kothi and driven to Dehradun. Doctor came and checked him but could not find anything. Later my brother told me that he felt _______________________ â "Shame, shame". _______________________ as if some one had poured melted lead in his ears and he fainted. It took him about six months to recover. Ma came to Kishenpur Ashram. He was taken to Ma. Ma heard the whole episode, then seriously told every one, even my Nanaji, never to shoot in that area, because in that area a lot of high order Rishis and Yogis used to roam in different forms. Munnaji recovered after some time.Jai Ma My mother also saved by Ma's grace My mother's only dependences in life was none else than Ma. She had completely surrendered herself to Ma. Once she was returning from Kanpur after Samyam Saptaha. I received a telegram which was not clear. I took some one in my jeep to the station. The train arrived and I was peeping through the windows and looking for my mother. I went into the compartment. I looked at the berths but no sign of her. Saw some one lying on the floor of the compartment. I went and saw that she was my mother. I and my friend picked her up and carried her out of the station to the jeep, laid her in the rear and drove back home to Doonga House. Here she was laid upon the bed, I went to doctor and told him about the condition of my mother. She could hardly speak. Her temples had shunk in completely with dehydration. He immediately ordered his nursing staff to take a few glucose bottles. and some injections, and said that night was crucial. I had faith that nothing would go wrong. I and the Doctor were surprised as to where life hung in her emaciated body. Only Ma knows. She started recovering from the next morning and lived up to the age of 86. She was so humble and egoless, although being the only daughter of R.B. Ch. Sher Singh ji of Doonga. Even the lowest of the household servants could do wrong and she would only be smiling. Tears would come if she heard any sad news. Even when needed, she could not scold anyone.Jai Ma. Pundri Pundri is a village about 30 km. from Mainpuri with an old fortress on top of a small hillock. On the side of the outer wall of the fortress of Pundri is an ancient Shiva temple on top of a well. Lord Shiva is enshrined at the bottom of the well. In front of the Shiva temples is the samadhi of Pundarik rishi, after whom the village. is named. Next to it is Thakur jis temple with Radha installed in it. Facing both t these temples was Ma's room, where she stayed when ever she visited Pundri. Thakur Lal Naurattan Singh was the Zamindar of Pundri. My mother, daughter of Ch. Sher Singhji, was married to him.Little vague remembrances of the early days of Doonga, Kishenpur, Raipur, Anand Chowk temple & Pundri. At Doonga Ma was sitting in the pine forest (Chirwali Dandi) surrounded by my grand mother, my mother and villagers. bhaktas and sadhus. I remember Hari Ram Joshi, Ram Singhji, Devi Dutt, Abhaya, who was a boy elder to me and always with Ma. Ma was sitting quiet. I dont know how to express. There was pin drop silence, broken only by melodious sounds of wild birds. The day was coming to a close. Later my grandmother told that Ma was describing about two persons in their subte bodies to Nana ji. One of them was Tika Shyam Singh (Sher Singh's nephew) on a horse back with a guard. He died in his early 30's He was an alcoholic and was a terror in his days. And the other was a very old lady sitting naked under a tree and watching Ma. Nanaji confirmed and told that his grandmother who was very old used to sleep naked the col and died like this. Ma gave exact descriptions of their features. Abhaya used to be after Ma and kept on asking her if they both were delivered by Ma's glance. My illness & Deviji seeing Ma Once I fell very ill and fever would not go. Devi ji used to nurse me. I only remember in my semi-consciousness that Deviji did pranam to some one. I looked but there was no one. Later she told my grand mother that Ma had come and looked down on me and put her hand on my head. Devi ji told that I would be all right and yes, I became well. Hari Baba One day we saw Hari baba standing in front of Doonga Kothi gate. My grand father and every one falling at his feet. Later we heard that Hari Baba came on foot from Bund, a distance of 150 Miles. Nar and Narayana I saw two young sanyasis sent by Mother to Doonga when Ma's ashram was built at Chir Wali Dandi. They were twins. We became curious. They used to walk on hands for hours with feet up in the air. This asan they used to do daily on the kitchen roof of Ma's ashram at Chir Wali Dandi, Doonga. Ma named them as "Nar" and "Narayana". Nanaji caught drinking Nanaji, my grand-father, used to take drinks in the evening before dinner. One evening my grand mother came running from outside Kothi clapping her hands & shouting. "Ma has come". I also came and saw Ma sitting in the car, door open. We did pranam. Nana ji also came down and burst into tears like a child before Ma, while doing pranam to Her. Benares: Fever in boats My father used to tell us that once when they were in Benares, the Doonga & Pundri party with full paraphernalia were all down with fever. Ma came and visited each boat and then went away. Fever of every one was gone. The next day my father went to do pranam and some one told that Ma was in fever. As my father bent down to touch the feet, it was felt like touching a red hot pan With a jerk he pulled his hands back, the next day Ma recovered. Ma's Birthday Celebration Sher Singh ji, my grand mother, my elder brother Munna ji & his wife Prema Devi attended the function. They did pranam to Ma. prasad was given to every one by Ma. Grand mother asked for more prasad for persons left at home. Ma gave her. Prema was standing at the rear. Ma called her and said: "You are not asing for prasad. No child"?. Ma called her and gave her some prasad. Exactly after nine months a son was born to her. My grand mother named him 'Anand'. Anya, the only daughter of my brother. Munna ji, fell ill in childhood. She told her mother that she wanted to give silver "Payal" to Ma and She would give it back to her. Ma was informed. Ma came and Anya got the Payal by Ma after offering to her. Now Anya is married to Shyam Narayan Singh, younger brother of Sri Gopal Narian Singh of Ranchi. He is also a devotee of Ma. Jai Mal Ma Ka Bhog Ma used to call my father Lal ji'. He was very fond of food, I mean, varieties of items in food. Once he requested Ma that he wanted to offer her "Chappan Vyanjan Bhog" meaning 56 dishes His wish was granted. Swami Paramanandji was instructed by Ma to do the needful. So my father offered 56 dishes to Ma and when getting the prasad he was particular that he also got every item. Ma used to call my grand mother as 'Alhadi' and said that she was her own sister in the previous incarnation. Ma even named me, "Manpuri Ka Raja" The monarch of my mind'. I pray someday I may really become one. Ma visited Pundri in the 40's twice. I do not exactly remember which incident took place during which of her visits. This I remember that She went to see the Baryarwali Devi on both of her visits. This was the occasion of the installation of the deities.Father had built a temple with Lord Krishna and Shri Radha ji and also a temple over the samadhi of Punadrik Rishi. There was a big 'Bhoj, food to be distributed to the residents of the Pundri estate and the expected crowd was about five thousand. It used to be the custom in those days that women folk from each village and caste came with their own. "Chakla Belan" (instrument for making puris) and sat in different groups in the central grounds of the Pundri Fort. They sang Kirtan while they busied themselves. with their work. People started having food after the Brahmin's feast was over. My father was informed that crowds of men & women were coming from far off distances. He was least worried at that moment. Ma with her sevikĂĄs entered the main gate and to the place where ladies were working. Ma stepped forward her, feet fell upon one of the "Puris". She said to the village women to do kirtan loudly. and also herself participated in singing kirtan, clapping her hands in rhythm. Later we came to know that around 15,000 people had taken prasad in that "Bhandara" with Ma's kripa Shri Ma's honour at Pundri It was the tradition in those days on festivals like Holi, Dusserah etc or on the birth of a son or on marriage in the royal family of the Pundri House that dancers from the village of Tarapur came to celebrate. So arrangements were made in the evening in the Pundri fore ground in front of the courts on the concrete open floor. Seat was made for Ma. Rest of the family members and other important people on cither side, with centre being empty in front of Ma's dais. Everyone came and were seated. Musicians getting ready with their instruments and the dancing girls waiting for Ma to arrive. My father, despite lots of opposition from the ladies of the house, managed to bring Ma to the function. All saw Ma coming, followed by the sevikas and other bhaktas and was seated on the asan on the dais, Everyone stood up in her honour. After settling down every one started doing pranam. Ladies of the house watched from the windows of the main house. The function started, the main girl of the dancing group got up and after doing pranam started singing some Bhajan. There was pin drop silence, except for the singing & music. Ma was watching her very deeply. Hardly few minutes had passed when the dancing girl suddenly burst into tears, followed by the musicians and all spectators. Every one was sobbing, they could not stop. After some time Ma got up with folded hands and with that smile on her face walked away through the main gate to the temple area where her room was. On being asked by the people they only said they only felt that every thing was drained out of them, No explanation. Jai Ma Shri Ma's visit to Baryar My grandmother told Ma that few miles from Pundri there was a place called Baryar, An "Ahir" girl from the age of 6-7 had been doing sadhana, this girl had been sitting there in siddhĂĄsan for the last 5 years and was keeping maun. My father learning about this had built a brick hut for her. One elderly lady came from somewhere no body knows to look after her. The door of the hut used to be closed from inside and whenever any one came for her darshan, they had to announce name and place after knocking at the door. If she wished then she would clap and the door would open. One could hear the chain fall and the door unlock from inside. Whenever in winter vacation we went to Pundri, one day we would definitely go to Baryar for darshan with our grandmother & mother, me and my elder brother. My elder brother and I were curious to know how fast she must be getting back to her seat after unchanging the door, because we always found her sitting in the meditative pose, hands folded in her lap and her breathing absolutely. calm and normal. She knew our intentions and would give a smile. Ma agreed to visit and we all went with Ma to Baryar in bullock carts. At the door of Devi ji's hut my grand mother announced that Ma had come The door was opened. Ma was taken in and her asan was placed in front facing her. Ma after putting her hand on Devijis head, kept looking at Devi ji and after sometime we all were told to go out of the hut. The door was closed with Ma & Devi ji only inside. After some time the door. was opened and we noticed that Deviji's face was glowing brightly. Before leaving Ma again blessed her. She remained in her seat, did pranĂĄm to Ma with fingers straggling in joined hands and eyebrows contracting. Ma left with all of us for Pundri. Later Ma said that the girl had come to complete her sĂ„dhana left over from her previous birth. After six years she opened her mauna (broke her silence). There was a big function and when the pundits asked her to repeat the Veda Mantras, she repeated. The voice, which was heard, was so fine and melodious that no one can describe it. |
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