Collective Vengeance

We lived in a rustic dense chawl of Kanjur marg that populated majority of factory workers migrated from small districts of Uttar pradesh and Bihar. There were quite many local maharashtrians as well. But not many had agricultural land back at home town, we were elated by the fact that in the event of major mishap, we will have secondary source of income and we can always go back to our village in Ayodhya and make our living. My maternal uncle was general manager in some big company in mumbai and lived in classy appartment in mumbai. We were as good as his servants that time. Thats the reason, he never liked to visit our place,a dingy residence.

That day, Sun rose from west and he arrived in his luxurious mercedes to our place. He scornfully looked at asbestos roof and mediocre flooring of my house. Despite his attitude, I liked him because he was a self-made person. He was another rags to riches story in himself. His driver slept in the car itself. He decided to stay at my residence that night. It was going to be a dreadful night for him and his driver. 

By the late evening, news started to come that weapons have been ceased by local police in the nearby mosque. The mosque lied adjacent to dairy farm owned by a muslim called Saeed. Saeed was a tall handsome person. He owned more than thousand buffellows and few hundred cows. It was quite a lot of business. But I have always seen him, injecting some medicine to sick beasts and delivering milk at the counter. The area near mosque was plush with muslim people. One could make out there number during Eid and Muharram. However, during riots we stopped buying milk from that muslim owned dairy farm. But we always missed that quality of milk. The purest one. 

Soon after the news broke, curfew imposed again in the area. My maternal uncle couldn't go back even if he wanted. That night, he had to stay with us. Police constables manned the area, shouting, 'Jagate Raho'. (Be Alert!!). Anything could happen that night. Some constables hit the doors with their sticks, not with the intention that somebody should open the door, but to reinforce the message that 'One should be alert!!'. As and when somebody hit the door, my heart pulsated faster. My grandfather lived with us. He was very frail and frightened kind of person. In order to be prepared for any mischance, he has bought hard steel rods. As somebody hit the door, he gripped again the rod and pursed his lips, as if he could take them all, whosoever comes. 

Door was knocked again and again. We were used to it. Finally we all slept, carelessly. After some time, I heard some noise and opened my eyes. Two constables were discussing with all elderly people in house that some people have pelted stone on the car, parked a bit distant from our place. Driver was missing. We couldn't go to the car,as it was curfew time and waited for next morning at 9 O'clock until curfew lifted. Elders waited while talking, but I slept.

Next morning, the car was found burned to ashes. The missing driver was found dead near the mosque area. His name was Raqib. My maternal uncle has employed him a month back.

I didn't see my maternal uncle again. After 15 years, I got the news that he died of heart attack.

A zilch of mumbai in me

India is an amazing country. One can find all possible climates over here. From extreme cold to extreme hot, from arid desserts to heavy rainfall areas, one can enjoy all the seasons as per their comfort and will. Mumbai enjoyed two seasons primarily, extreme rain for about six months and moderate & humid summers for another six. The place I resided named Bhayander was famous for limited water supply from municipality so water tanker business was easily seen in the area. They filled up tankers from nearby wells and supplied to apartments on regular basis. But it didn’t suffice and one had to limit the per person usage of water. My elder brother never liked this idea of limiting the water usage for personal usage. He always yearned to live in the countryside, our home town in Faizabad which was plush with water supply from mother earth. There were many like us who were part of this ghettoized life of bhayander. This dearth of the quint-essential element water was replenished by rain water during rainy season. The apartment residents used to put buckets and beakers on the terrace to collect the natural water. Owing to heavy industrialization in the area, the rain water was dark and unfit to drink but it could be used for washing clothes and bathing.

I used local train for commuting to my college in new bombay. During rainy days, it wasn’t surprise that I had to walk in hip deep water from local train station to my residence. It was around 2 km of stretch and such walks were exciting for teenagers, it wasn’t so for the elders. Stepping in the hip deep water was even more exciting while it rained when it felt like you are getting into a river. When the rain had stopped, the logged water didn’t look fresh and it even mixed with the drain water. However, it wasn’t an option for me. When I had to do it, I had to do it. But whenever I did, I enjoyed. Sometimes it wasn’t safe either to have such a tread as there is a possibility of opened up manholes and drowning in it. So whenever I reached home with all my clothes drenched, umbrella wide open, shoes stinking and feet blanched, it didn’t feel nonetheless of an achievement. And a cup of hard-tea after such an adventure was like exaggerate icing on the cake. Mumbai has underground power cable which they typically cut-off during very heavy rains for safety reasons. So the candle-lit dinner in such weather used to be blissful.

That day I got up bit early in the morning. I used to get up very early everyday but that day it was even earlier. I planned to reach college bit early, this had dual benefit, first the local train used to be less crowded in early hour and second I could go and occupy the seat closer to Tithi in the college. Keeping this mind I bathe early and ate my breakfast and started my journey of the day. yes, it used to be 2-3 hour long journey before I reached my college. That day, my timings coincided with my father’s office timing. He left home just one or two minute earlier but we were not together. It was scarce drizzling in the morning so I decided hire the autorickshaw to commute till the railway station. I reached the railway station comfortably and quickly. But when I was paying the fare, I saw a somewhat known person reaching railway station hurrily. He didn’t see me. He was my father who didn’t hire any rickshaw and came walking. Rickshaw guy asked me pay the fare quickly as he had to get other customers also. I was dumbfound to see my father who earned the money and didn’t enjoy it while I enjoyed without earning even a penny. I rarely enjoyed this ‘luxury’ after that.

first day in college

I had to travel approximately 2 and half hour from my place in Bhayander to reach my college, located in Vashi. It was first day in college. After a long journey, I reached the profound railway station of Vashi, which was railway station cum IT Park. I started to walk towards my college which was not quite far from station. I looked above and sighed the huge infrastructure investment going on, in that area. Sky was azure and drizzling. It looked lovely. Perhaps, the day was lovely as something more lovely yet to arrive in my life. I pulled my leg up. It squelched as it came out of deep mud I mistakenly put my leg in thinking it solid rock. It was drizzling with soft sun overhead. I avoided any shadow and remained as much as possible in the ambiguity of rain and sun. I was walking fast aiming to reach college in time. I was apparently sweating. Every one felt, its rain-drops sticking on my face. But my exhausted face cannot tell any lie. It reflected my actual state of tireness and fatigue. At last I reached college, morning prayer has already ended and pupils dispersed. One corner had coffee shop in the ground floor. I had coffee and felt alive. (No !! That time I din't use to have cigerretes.)

I entered the class, sat on second bench. I left first bench for extra-super-studious chaps. I hated hind benches as most of their talks overshadowed the lectures and made it to subtle din. Most of the time I stared out side as I din't like to stare guys and was too shy to stare girls. Moreover ambience outside was more attractive than inside. Occassional heavy showers amid humdrum of drizzle as though some one is intentionally throwing water from roofs. Sun was denying to hide behind clouds. It was fully bright outside and sun light was piercing through partially opened windows. My inquisitive eyes were looking for something, I guess for the sun that made the world bright but right now eluding somewhere.

I heard 'Hi' from soft shy voice. No ! it wasn't for me but for the guy sitting next to me. I din't expect the same for me. Neither did I look the other side. I kept staring outside. She said again 'Hi'. Now I saw.. I regret why did I.. The most enchanting beauty of my life.. She smiled unbeknownst of the fact that I was no more. She asked my name and college. I responded and asked hers. She went and sat back to her place. For me, the world has changed. Now I no more looked outside. No more inquisitive to find the sun who brightens the world, as I found already the one. As much the ambience inside became lively, mesmerized me couldn't look no further but herself. So did I remain till yet. Equally mesmerized and afresh as though I met that smile herenow.

Drizzle stopped by the evening. Sun disappeared as well. So did she. I kept witnessing transience to darkness. No! This darkness had nothing negative in it. It indeed provided me safe recluse to meet my beloved. Neither could it pierce within me. Because my within is already lit with beauty I witnessed in the morning. Next day as routine I went to college, Again...

She was Tithi, Tithi Mukherjee. Tithi meant for a date in Hindi, unintentionally but this name resuscitated humor in our group, a million times. She was a typical shy bengali girl, brought up in mumbai and she spoke good mumbaiyya Hindi without a taint of Bangla. She never smoked, never drank but danced like hell, continously, effortlessly with infinite energy & unfathomable grace. Her drop dead beauty made her crush of every dude in college. She was so open that everyone could approach her and tell his feelings about her. So the three divine words 'I Love you' meant nothing for her except an expression of good friendship. But no one dared to tread the steps beyond, except Ashu.

To be continued...

I could concentrate but couldn't win.

I could concentrate but couldn't win. But I was glad for my presence in that state of meditation. There was a zen master in Japan, I don't remember his name. He was teacher of archery but never could get his aim correct. Never in his lifetime could he hit the target. He always missed it. But people came to him for learning. Everyone knew he was a failure but they came to him. For just one quality, whatever he did, he did with complete concentration, in a meditative stance. Right from putting the arrow on the bow to the point it hit target, the master was in the amazing sense of meditation. Even the greatest archers of Japan came to him for learning this state. In Japan, everyone is taught to concentrate before doing anything. Let it be any art, any science it should be concentration and meditation. Japanese Samurai are considered to be the strongest military people. They have short height but were equivalent to ten american soldiers during world war-II.

Mumbai and Apartheid

Soon after the 1993 riots, we had shifted from maharashtrian populated area to gujarati majority place in Mumbai. It was low profile, distant locality of suburban mumbai called Bhayander. Our brand new abode was smelling with the virginity of fresh wall paint. None of my neighbors worked for somebody, they all were gujjus and they all hated service. Despite they earned small, they did business. I spend 11 years of my life at dingy chawl in Bhandup but I felt as though, I lived one lifetime over there. When I was pursuing my graduation in engineering course, I decided to visit that place once again, may be the last time for me. All gullies looked same. All shopkeepers were same. I had talk with few known shopkeepers. But they didn't show much interest and busy dealing with their customers. Nawab chacha had sold his house and shifted to his native place in uttar pradesh. Charan works in Dubai with his Mamu-jaan. Nothing had changed except one enormous banyan tree, which was no more. I inquired about it to local people, they said the banyan tree was unlucky for the owner, the childless bihari couple. So it was dropped down. The Banyan tree is quite sacred entity in Hinduism. Various festivals and fasts are incomplete without giving water to Banyan tree.Its motifs are used as offering in various pujas and yagnyas. Banyan tree is also called Kalpa-Vriksha that means it fulfills all the wishes of the worshiper. According to Agni Purana, It should especially be worshiped by infertile women. I wondered why would such an old and magnificent tree was cut. That place looked bizarre to me, as never was I used to looking at that place without the shadow of mammoth tree. Later on, I learned from my grand mother that shadow of Banyan tree on any house is considered unlucky and does result infertility to the family living in such house. She even went on tell me that we have forsaken a big house of her father in Ayodhya because of this reason. Some shastri from nearby temple captured that house upon death of her father.

While I stared at the dead roots of an incised tree, a known voice impinged my ears. I turned back, trying to recognize but he blurted further out, 'Babbu, you have grown up to Man'. A dark, short and mottled faced guy.. Ramashish Yadav. He couldn't pronounce his own name. I correct him always,'its Ramashish and not Ramasees'. But he couldn't distinguish. This was a typical rustic north indian syndrome. Many were inflicted with it. So I forgave him.

'So what are you doing these days?', He enquired.

I answered with confidence,'Graduation in computer Engineering'.

He said,'What a coincidence? I am pursuing engineering as well'.

I awed, 'Is it? From which college?'.

He answered,'No No I dropped out of school. I am learning computer hardware from Gupta Electricians shop behind my house'.

I wanted to snicker at his innocence and lack of information but I flinched back, letting him enjoy his ignorance.

There were plethora of Biharis in that locality, who enjoyed their lives in ignorance. They didn't live in today, they lived in tomorrow. They saved lot of money in mumbai and used it economically back home for purchasing house, shops, agricultural land, cattle,vehicle and tracters. They always dreamed of going back home and living with dignity among their own people. But no one could go back and if they did, they never enjoyed because their children lived back in Mumbai, in that same penury and the vicious cycle goes on & on. However, this could be seen as great economic balancing factor. Mumbai will be unimaginable without rickshaw-wala bhaiyas mushroomed all over the city & suburb. They are available 24X7 and any place you name to any place you would know in the city. Their mode of earning and investment depicts flow of economy from Maharashtra to Bihar. But there is no derogatory connotation in this economy flux as both belong to same country. Even Fidel castro and Lenin, with their extreme communist policies cannot bring down the level of regional economic disbalance between Maharashtra and Bihar, which is happening involuntarily by Biharis, all over mumbai.

Be proud, we are hindu.

Be Proud, We are Hindus !!

I was about 10 years then and hated my mom accompanying me till school, more to avoid the shame-shames and goof ups from classmates then to my own daring to go alone. My school stood 1 or a half more mile distance from my abode. The path was not straight, it traversed many gullies, muhallas, meadows, playgrounds and few big roads as big as highways. One fine day, I rebelled and decided to go alone to my school.There was a difference. When I walked alone, I saw everything around me and when I went with mom, I talked about everything that happened in school and everything I did at home. That talk lacked any insight. But now when I walk alone, I could see with my eyes broad open. The distance seemed to be never-ending today.

'Garv se kaho hum hindu hain !!' (Be proud, we are Hindus !!)

This slogan was over all the walls, written in bold red paint. Sometimes I felt very secure that I lived in hindu-majority area, protectorate of Shiv-sainiks. I was not educated enough then to understand the separatist overtones in the slogan. Thanks to my textbooks, that time, I was always overwhelmed by the more humanitarian side of insights then to the separatist ones. Chankya said,'Never trust a politician, any human with weapons, a thief and women'. I don't know about others but one should trust Chankya and never trust a politician. Fifteen twenty years ago, they were against muslims. Today, they are against uttar pradesh and Bihar people. Tomorrow, they will seperate east maharashtrians from the Konkans. Separatists don't have the limit. There is no limit to division. Scientists are breaking their heads on disintegrating substances, molecules, atoms, neutrons, electrons, quarks, strings and what not. There is no limit to this endless separatism. But unification is one shot, complete and sustainable. It gives just one slogan to the whole mankind, 'All human are born equal'.

This single slogan is superset of all sects, all societies, all languages and all the religion, known to mankind for creating a dividing bar amid people of same blood. 'Garv se kaho hum hindu hain!!'. This slogan has very far reaching impact on people who read them every time they come accross it. Especially, the children who just learned reading and writing, will read it aloud everytime, they come accross it. They will ask its comport to their parents. Then the onus will lie with their parents to align their children to the correct philosophy, to the correct outlook.

One of my neighbor, I called him 'chacha' and sometimes 'nawab chacha', brought his family from one of the remote district of uttar pradesh. He had fathered 8 children and husbanded two housewives. However, he shifted with only his latest housewife to mumbai. His eldest son was as tall as six feet and named 'Charan'. I did't know, Never did I intend to find out,why such hindu name was given to a muslim boy. He was nice guy indeed. He nurtured my appetite for learning new things. He taught me few alphabets of urdu and I could write my name in it. Surprising part for me was that urdu is written in right-to-left fashion unlike all other scripts known to me. Charan was occassionally distraught by the behaviour of her step-mother. My parents occassionally discussed the agony of Charan, about the step mother and her atrocities. I knew, he won't be able to sustain out here in mumbai, not because of riots and situation in my area but for her 'kind' and 'loving' mom.

Nawab chacha had two sons and six daughters. The younger son was about my age and got admission in my school. By that time, I was well verse with the traversals to my school, with all the alternatives, spots and junctions in between. In all, for a thirty minutes way, I took one and half hour. Now I was no more alone, as Mudassir, the other son of Nawab chacha joined me to my adventures to school. And so joined the lady, Mudassir's mom. She was typical muslim lady from a rustic background. Rarely, one could find her mouth without Paan. and a bucket to keep various ingredients to prepare paan. My parents never had any such habit, even though it was quite benign to the health but my father believed not to waste money on eating such things that add no value and are addictive. Mudassir's mom had many contacts in Dubai, Saudi and Qatar. Her step brothers, blood brothers, mamu(maternal uncle) everyone resided in bahargaanv(Foreign country). She was very talkative and I was very reserved. So she got a prey and my travel time to school shortened to 20 minutes from one & half hour. She talked a lot about Saudi, Dubai, Qatar, Iraq and about the electronic trinket her kins get from there. I wondered where these places are and what it takes to be there. From her talks, I was ascertained that people who go there earn lot of money and come back with lot of gold & digital electronic stuffs.

After few months of accompanying, Mudassir's mom realized that we could go to school alone and she stopped coming with us. Me and Mudassir, our hand-in-hand and water bottle in other, were coming from school and talking about happenings in class, until someone stopped us. They were couple of people and resembled localite maharashtrians. Few of them, had chandan/kumkum on their forehead.

'What is your name, Chap?', asked one of them, in a typical marathi tone.

I glanced over other people behind. Two of them had swords, they looked like warriors in Mahabharata, others had hard polished sticks.

'Dint you listen, What's your name?', He repeated and one of them gestured the sword forward.

I was frightened.. No sooner, I drenched my pants and stuttered, 'Durgesh'.

They muttered something among themselves and said, 'Don't move around this area. It could be dangerous. Now go. Swiftly go home.'

I was old enough to elicit that my name saved Mudassir. Just to avoid such situation again, I decided to refer him as 'Pundit' whenever I find such people or any unknown person around.

My father started to put kumkum on his forhead to patently look Hindu and avoid any shameful situation like being examined for circumcision in public. Nawab chacha always looked fearless and carefree but the bad time was yet to arrive.

In quest of philosophy.....

1:26 PM me: aaj bahoot akela feel kar raha hoon

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: main hoon na....kya hua

1:27 PM me: .. ay vay..

  mahine kay ek din... akela feel karta hoon...

  aaaj wohi din hai..

1:28 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: sahi hai...so its ur choice

 me: no.... its random event... with

  avg once a month..

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: k

1:29 PM me: why does a person feel alone..

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: it may be physological process...or it may be man made

1:30 PM me: do you feel the same..

  anytime.

1:31 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: yes when i was in delhi.....leaving outside....once i got hostel i never felt it

 me: I use to feel it even when in hostel.

  Is it same as my desire for intimacy.

1:32 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: it may be....it may be differnt also

  some ppl may feel lonely even in the most intimate moments

1:33 PM me: I used to feel lonely, even when I was engaged..

1:34 PM Any ways that day I was saying difference between indian and foreign authors. ===>

1:35 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: i know u fall in that category

 me: Do you fall in the same category.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: i don't know abt my self

1:37 PM me: There are two kinds of people..

  1=> Who knows about themselves.

  2=> Who don't.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: i m in 2

1:38 PM there is another king

  sorry kind

 me: Buddha, Yeshua, Zarathustra also belong to second.

  What is that ?

  Are they pseudo-kind ?

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: who know...but don't tell

1:39 PM me: Wow !! Why not they do that..

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: because...some ppl want it to be limited to themselves

1:40 PM its good also...no one can take benifit from u

 me: Right !

  I will try to be like this.

1:41 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: and most ppl r in this category

  but they r the worst ppl

 me: By the way, I categorized people on the basis of their knowing about themselves.

1:42 PM Not on Telling.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: ok...what abt writers..u told foreign writers use a lot of information

1:43 PM me: foreign authors are better informed about external world...

  Eastern authors are more knowledged about inner world.

  This prevails in their writings eitehr.

1:44 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: ye sach nahi hai...today even indian writers r using information

  but in a way its true

1:45 PM we r more philosophical

 me: All our world-class books are towards inner world.

1:46 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: yes

 me: This is Indian-Ness.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: and its great

  right?

1:47 PM me: Its complementary actually.

  Both worlds have their pros and cons.

  Neither is great nor mediocre.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: ok but we can use information also

 me: It has its own importance.

1:48 PM We use information but we don't view information in a materialistic form.

  Data is not equal to information.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: k

1:49 PM me: Different people have varying perception of Data i.e

  For same data they draw seperate information.

  Example..

1:50 PM One author analyzes what makes Coke more prefereable to Pepsi.

1:51 PM Indian author will deal with even deeper sense situation.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: like?

1:52 PM me: Infact Indian and Russian authors share style.

1:53 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: true

 me: American and Europeans share other.

  Both are different.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: ok i got ur point

 me: Like, I find Chekhov, Dostovsky.. Similiar to premchand and Sharat.

1:54 PM But Shakespeare, Wordsworth and Mahadevi, Harivansh ray are very different.

1:55 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: ya i agree....actually premchan used to read a lot of russian books ( mainly tolostoy)

1:56 PM me: Can you think, What makes Indian authors and revolutionaries rather interested in russian literature.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: and yes abt the second bunch of writers they r all poets

 me: And Not British.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: so they have common style

1:57 PM because britain ruled us

1:58 PM me: You know,

  Vietnamese revolutionaries use to read French books, venerate french authors and loved french culture.

1:59 PM Despite France ruled it til 1954.

2:00 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: the other reason....we think in the similar way

2:01 PM me: This could be used as reverse-logic.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: ha ha ha....wrong ans...i know

 me: We think same because we read authors inspired by them.

2:02 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: yes....but seriously....why we were inspied by russian authors

2:03 PM because there was no revolutionary writer at that time in britain will write abt poor ppl

 me: I think, This condition prevailed worldwide.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: which condition?

2:04 PM me: Mideval world-litterature is devoid of it.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: but not russian literature

  u see that is the difference

 me: If you think, communism has got any thing to do with mideval literature.

  Then its wrong perception.

2:05 PM Before 1917, Russia was akin any other european empire.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: no it is long before communism in russia

 me: Monarchy.

  Chekhov belongs much before it.

2:06 PM Did Bhartendu write about common people?

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: not.... but tolostoy is much older...and it was his style they all followed

2:08 PM me: So, Indian authors wanted a break from traditional writing.

  and followed russians.

2:09 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: u r true abt Bhartendu and this new style of following russians was started by premchand and sharatchand

 me: Bu then does it has any implication on both being Philosophical..

2:10 PM How is writing about common people and writing philosophical linked..

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: they r not linked

  and it never said it does

2:11 PM i m only proving why our style matches with russians

2:13 PM me: But why americans write so materialistic.

  Even if they write some thing spiritual, It will be as if some materialistic.

2:14 PM That stupid style is now being copied by Indian authors also.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: if we generalize its like that...reasons i don't know

 me: Shiv Khera, Robin Sharma.... etc.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: thats why u hate them

2:15 PM me: Like Monk who sold his ferrari.. was materialistically spiritual.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: satya hai

 me: Yes !! I prefer reading freaks like Osho than these pesudo spiritual gurus.

2:16 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: i can tell why robin sharma did like that

 me: Book Name: You must relax....

  Can you imagine, mere name creates restlessness....

2:17 PM This is spirituality of West.

  Why ?

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: he is an indain he can write a full spiritual book.......but it will not be sold in us

  its like making a movie

  u make it to earn money...not for being creative

 me: Its like selling a product.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: ya u got my point

2:18 PM me: But selling a product has two ways.

  1> Tap the existing market.

  2> Create the market.

  While Robin sharma, Edword de bono tap the existing markte.

2:19 PM They cater to materialisitc desire in people.

  Osho has created market. Then tapped it.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: yes u r right

 me: He won't cater to any need but he'll create the need Then sell his philosophy.

2:20 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: u know what is sold most?

2:21 PM me: No statistics. But Brazil has considerable percentage of Osho followers.

2:22 PM I don't see/foresee Robin Sharma create any cult per se.

2:23 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: ok

 me: Have you read Third wave. -- Alvin Toffler.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: no

 me: It has one very significant chapter in it.

2:24 PM About selling spirituality, cult formation etc.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: good

  so robin sharma read it and is now selling his product

 me: I found it englightening because I had some inclination towards Oshoism.

2:25 PM Robin Sharma is not linked with the topic..

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: ok

 me: It says, In future there will be many such cults like Oshoism.

  Each having its own perception of world, its own ideology..

2:26 PM Unlike present society, where a person is bound to one particular religion, caste and follows its rules and customs.

  He'll follow customs of particular cult.

2:27 PM People in a cult will be more cohesivly bound than people in society.

  Because its member ship is by will and not by birth.

2:28 PM Thats the reason I found it very significant.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: but do u think it will happen

  because i don't think it will happen in near future

2:29 PM me: I do. I have many reasons to believe it.. I'll come in 2 mins.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: ok

2:33 PM me: Education.

2:34 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: how?

 me: and Access to information about other religions.

  Religion is way of rule spirit of un-educated people.

2:35 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: true...and most ppl r still uneducated

 me: Why are uneducated people more religious/devout than educated.

  In world-perspective.

2:36 PM Good enuf percentage are literate.

  When people come in contact with people of drastically different customs.

  They tend to doubt there own.

2:37 PM So reach some pseudo state where they lose faith in both.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: ha ha ha....ho sakta hai

 me: Osho-like people takes advanatage of such inquisitive crowd.

2:38 PM Like when a stauch hindu comes in contact with staunch christian.

2:39 PM He gets amazed looking at their girls in minis.. taking vodka with family.

2:40 PM Had Hindu been educated, He won't get amazed, He will have moderate reaction within.

  Being liberal and moderate means you have others perspective either.

2:41 PM This creates the pseudo state of faithelessness in both the religions.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: aisa hota hai....that is why ppl like me don't have any faith

2:42 PM me: Some people like who don't even have faith in faithlessness.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: k

2:43 PM do u have any faith?

 me: I have faith in God but not in religion.

  I am spiritual but not religious.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: why in god?

2:46 PM me: Because I don't have many answers.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: so what?

7 minutes

2:53 PM me: When I don't have answer..

2:54 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: u want some super power

 me: I think its because of GOD.

2:55 PM I don't any super power. I tend to believe there is somebody more power ful than most power ful human who can solve all my queries.

  He's GOD.

2:56 PM hemant.patni@gmail.com: ok..what if god is not there?

 me: It is equally likely that God doesn't exist.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: so?

2:57 PM me: Then as scientific and spiritual pursuit proceeds, all the queries will be solved.

2:58 PM Then nothing needs be attributed to GOD.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: see it is not nessecary to believe in god as u told....then why to believe?

3:00 PM me: It is against human habit to leave any thing unexplained. So GOD, to whom all the unexplained phenomenon could be attributed, is created.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: k

3:01 PM me: I am not doing research in those unexplained queries so I attribute it to GOD.

  Else I wouldn't.

 hemant.patni@gmail.com: sahi hai....ok i will go for tea c u later

 me: Ok. see ye.