Raj family had migrated toNew Yorkafter Aditya’s marriage.  He was in the family’s diamond business and had entered into a 50-50 partnership with his childhood buddy Shiva who was already settled inNew   York. The ancestral home had been in their family for almost two hundred years and he had left it in the able hands of his younger brother Satya and grandmother. Their parents had retired in the holy place ofBanarasbut the old grandmother refused to leave the home where she’d come as a bride. No lure of a holy place could pry her away from this house. Then five years ago just before grandpa’s first death anniversary, grandmother had taken ill and passed away. Satya was single and had no desire to wed, hence joined Aditya inNew   Yorkafter granny’s death. The house was left in the care of their old faithful cook and jack of all Ramu and his wife.

Aditya and son Vijay had a good night’s sleep and were ready to walk down memory lane. This was their first visit after granny’s demise. Sounds of joyous laughter and scampering feet reverberated in their ears. Granny’s beckoning voice the loudest. She had a whole repertoire of fairytales and delicious goodies to share with her grandchildren. The kids adored her. Neighborhood children came by even after her grandchildren had migrated toNew   York.  She never tired of telling stories.

Zeba Khan was very attractive. Classic features, long brown hair and almond shaped eyes and an hourglass figure made her an instant cynosure for all eyes. She had eyes for Satya Raj only.  No one else existed as far as she was concerned.  All alliances put forward by kith and kin were summarily dismissed.

By one pretext or another, she would visit Satya in his oldDelhijewelry store and chat him up. She intimated that one of her ancestors had been an important minister inDelhi’s royal court where Satya’s ancestors were the royal jewelers. She shared many such anecdotes with facts and figures leaving no doubt in Satya’s mind that indeed, their family lines were interconnected.  She tried to dangle a family secret as a carrot as she was madly in love with his looks and demeanor. But Satya would have none of it. Zeba was beautiful he admitted to himself and had gotten under his skin but he never gave up his resolve to remain celibate like his beloved deity Hanuman. Plus he was a staunch Hindu and she was a Muslim. His folks would be scandalized, not that he wished to marry. Then granny had passed away.

Caretaker Ramu and wife, in order to properly care for the house and make some extra money on the side, rented the house without Raj family’s knowledge. It was Zeba and her elder brother Ali who had rented the house. Unbeknownst to Ramu and wife, both Zeba and Ali searched the house every night. They especially targeted granny’s room. They had almost finished searching every inch of the room when by accident, Zeba’s hand hit upon the center rose carving on the bed’s head board. With a whirring sound the rose opened up and inside was a secret drawer. Full of excitement, Ali pushed his sister back and stuck his hand inside the drawer. A velvet pouch touched his fingers. With shaky fingers he extracted it and opened the bag.  Out popped a priceless diamond, the size of an egg. This is what they had been seeking.  Finally their hard work had paid off.

Ali was up to his eyebrows in gambling debts and needed money badly. He was aware that he was living on borrowed time. Zeba cried that in all fairness half of the money belonged to the Raj family as it was their property. As family history ran, this diamond was meant for the favored Queen of the King but she had been mysteriously poisoned and subsequently the King had declared the diamond unlucky. Raj family had since then hidden it from view for sake of its safety and family honor. Ali had no intention of sharing the proceeds from the diamond’s sale even with his half sister Zeba. Hence he had no compunction of ending her life. He smothered her with a pillow when she was asleep and fled. Ever since that day, Zeba’s ghost roamed the corridors of the old mansion always on the lookout for her beloved Satya Raj.

The caretaker and his wife had come to know about this ghost as it had appeared to them while cleaning the house. The police case had been closed after thorough investigation due to lack of clues.  Ali had vanished into thin air.

Ramu and wife reluctantly confessed to renting the house in their absentia and the murder thereafter. Aditya and son were quite upset. Somehow Aditya felt, maybe that was the reason he had this urge to return home. He decided to play it by ear. That night he slept in granny’s room with her favorite shawl around his shoulders. After a while, he felt the air around the bed change a bit and he felt a presence. He saw the floating figure of granny and she seemed to be looking at him with love in her eyes. Aditya’s eyes moistened involuntarily. Granny seemed to be pointing at something. Then her finger elongated and touched the carved rose on the headboard. Aditya decided to examine it. He tapped it gently and it sprang open. Excitedly, he put his hand inside but came up empty. Then he pushed it further and came into another compartment and in that he found a small diary and a pouch. He removed both. The diary was written in pristine “Urdu” language (Urdu -is a register of the Hindi-Urdu language that is identified with Muslims in South Asia).

Luckily Aditya knew Urdu and read the diary with growing excitement.  In great detail it narrated the story of their ancestor, the royal jeweler.  His son had been fatally wounded while fleeing from dacoits.  The ancestor had prayed to Lord Krishna promising a twenty one diamond studded crown in return for his son.   The son healed in record time and now the promise was yet to be fulfilled.  Somehow, the favorite queen got a whiff of this through her spies and wanted a necklace made with the biggest stone from the lot of 21 diamonds.    Even before Satya Raj could plead his case, the queen died mysteriously after being poisoned.  The diamonds were declared unlucky and went underground.  This news did not deter the court’s greedy sycophants.   Thus began the quest for diamonds.  The promise to the lord remained unfulfilled.  The chase was on.

Gafoor Ali Khan was one such greedy minister plagued by his many wives for expensive baubles. To end his money troubles, he set his sights on those diamonds.  In the interim, Satya Raj had a master carpenter build a solid bed with a carved headboard with secret drawers.  In the first drawer he had placed a false diamond; the size of the largest one to misguide any would be thief.  He had the carpenter swear to secrecy on his only son’s head.  The elder sons of the clan were privy to this secret only.  Time sped and the diamonds stayed hidden in the second drawer, to this day.

Aditya Raj was inNew Yorkon business when grandpa shared the family secret with granny on his deathbed, to pass along to him only as Aditya’s father; their only son was unworldly and had no interest in family affairs.  Granny had waited to convey this secret on grandpa’s first death anniversary when Aditya was sure to come down fromNew Yorkbut died without revealing it.

Aditya got in touch with one of his old trusted craftsmen.  He had him overnight craft a beautiful crown for the lord studded with the promised twenty-one diamonds under a cloak of extreme secrecy.  After swearing him on Lord Krishna’s name, he quickly left for the Lord Krishna’s temple in Vrindavan to make good the promise and uphold family honor.  The Lord had a playful smile after receiving this offering.

Aditya and son returned toNew York.  As promised, he checked into the hospital for the by-pass surgery.  He felt on top of the world.  A sense of well being pervaded his person.  The doctors were mystified.  After several tests, they discovered that his heart was completely normal and blockage free.   The Lord smiled mischievously in his temple inIndia.

*Lord Krishna and Hanuman are Hindu deities

**

Ram loved old things and recalled his grandparent’s grand old mansion which now belonged to his cousins.  He too wanted to build a similar house in its full glory and it would be a perfect property for film shoots as well.  After all he was a businessman.  Before the structure was pulled down, he had salvaged all usable mantles, doors, windows, fixtures et al.  Now they were preparing to lay down the foundation.  It was then that his laborers found two urns full of ashes.  They were covered with red cloths covered in ancient script.  The work was halted as the urns were carefully lifted and placed in a secure spot.  Ram decided to investigate regarding them.

**

Three houses down lived an old priest called Shastriji.  The priest’s ancestors had looked after the needs of the whole neighborhood since times immemorial.  Be it birth, death, marriage or special prayers, they were much in demand.  Recorded journals with names of all the family members of every family with detailed history were in his possession.  Ram hit pay dirt when one of the local workers told him to approach the priest.

**

Ram:   “Greetings Shastriji.  I’ve bought that old house three doors down your lane and seek your help”.   The priest sat up straight as these days clients were a rare sight.

Shastriji exclaimed, “Oh! So you are the one that bought that house.  I know the history of it well.  No need to refer to my detailed journals. This will take up a while so I hope you have time to spare.  Let’s share a cup of tea first.

That house belonged to Surya Pratap the younger son of Raja Ratan Singh of this state.  He was an ascetic and a devout Hindu who preferred all things Indian.  He had no love for the East Indian Company and the British upstarts.  He was married off to the beautiful second daughter of the royal family of the neighboring State.  Sita was so beautiful that Surya Pratap succumbed to her charms in no time.  With love and patience she smoothed out the sharp edges of his personality.  Surya became mellow and less obdurate in nature.

They had four children.  Three sons and one daughter   Eldest son and daughter was educated in England at the urging of his wife Sita who herself had schooled there and the other two received their education in local schools and colleges.  Their daughter Chandni was incredibly lovely and the family’s lucky charm.  Ever since she had been born, many good things had occurred in their lives.   Whole family doted on Chandni and she too had a lovable nature.  Chandni had long curly dark hair, big almond shaped light blue eyes and perfect features like her mother Sita.  She was a great archer and equestrienne too.  She met and won many a challenge her three brothers posed.  She was their match in every which way and more.

Chandni finished her education in London and returned home to settle down and eventually get married.  Many alliances arrived from far corners of the country for her hand.  She turned them all down.  She wanted to spend more time with her loved ones.

Then, something unexpected happened.  A young British officer Peter Pruitt had been sent to the nearby Company Residency as a second in command.    He was very handsome and loved all things Indian.  He was kind hearted too unlike his haughty supercilious colleagues.

Chandni’s best friend Tara had given a birthday party and Chandni was looking forward to catching up on the local gossip.  She dressed herself in simple clothes and even then she was the cynosure of all eyes.  Peter Pruitt and his fellow officers had been invited by Tara’s parents as they undertook contract work from the Company on various projects.  They managed the local workmen well and hence rarely was there any friction or untoward incidence.

At the very first glance Peter and Chandni fell headlong in love much to the consternation of everyone present.  Chandni knew her family would never accept Peter but she had lost control over her wayward heart.  Peter’s state was equally bad.  His friends too advised him against it as Chandni’s father’s reputation as a stern Hindu was well known.  He was inflexible on many fronts.  Soon the affair became known to Chandni’s parents and even as the lovers were eloping with the help of her faithful nanny, all the three brothers caught up with the fleeing lovers and in a heated moment, the hot headed eldest brother shot the couple.  All present became stunned and he the most.  He was shocked at what he had done and in reflex action shot self too.  The remaining two brothers quickly carried the three bodies home.  Peter and Chandni’s bodies were secretly taken to an underground cave to be dealt with there.  All the servants were sworn to secrecy for fear of repercussions at the hands of the cruel firangi (foreigners).  It was decided that since Chandni had disobeyed the family, she and Peter would be secretly cremated and the ashes would be kept in urns and buried deep in a chosen spot by the family priest.  The urns were then duly sealed by red square materials that had a fine print of tantric mantras all over.  As a punishment, the ashes were not released in the holy Ganges.  The lovers were left to languish in anguish till eternity.

The son was given a royal sendoff with all the rituals.  And that was the beginning of the end of this family.  Their luck ran out with the departure of their lucky charm Chandni and they fell on hard times.  Soon everything dwindled- lives, money and the hangers-on leeches.  All the fine carpets and fixtures- everything was sold off one by one and finally only the bare bones of this lovely house remained.   Hence, this property was sold for a song.  People swear that they have seen the lovers’ ghosts on the roof in the evenings.”

Shastriji became silent after that and builder Ram’s mind began racing.  He rubbed his hands in secret glee. He was not perturbed at all.   This house was going to be used by movie makers and the ghostly touch would be an added allure.  But first he vowed to give the lovers a decent sendoff with full fledged rituals and fanfare.

The renovated house’s inauguration and the Lovers’ send off simultaneously would be great publicity.  Ram silently chortled to himself.  Thanking Shastriji profusely, he hurried off sporting a huge smile on his chubby gum chewing face.

Circle Of Love

Our ship had docked and we decided to explore.

Sandy was native Alaskan. I, Sonia was from New York. We’d met at a summer camp, fallen in love and got married. That was five years ago.

A friend hailed Sandy but I decided to explore further- we decided to meet at the dock in a couple of hours.

I found a lookout point from where I could feast on the glaciers which drew me. I was joined by an elderly stranger. He told me a lovely folktale of this point.

Aaleahya was native Alaskan. She loved Iqniq (fire) the chief’s son. They were to wed next full moon day. Meanwhile their village got attacked by white man and Iqniq was killed. Aaleahya was sad. She came to this point nightly and stared at the glaciers. She died of a broken heart. Visitors often saw Aaleahya and Iqniq’s spirits embracing here. Stranger showed her his locket with their faces. She saw Sandy and herself staring back!

this picture is from inernet

Little Bobbie was in seventh heaven to have the secret room as his very own and wanted to sleep there as well.  His parents decided to make him happy as this way they could keep an eye on him more easily.

Bobbie was an only child and ever since he learnt to walk, he would be all over the
house playing with toys in hand.  His mom Raji tried to restrain him in his room by feeding and playing with him there.  Gradually Bobbie kept to his room and when he was lonely he would start speaking with his friend Kanha.  He would say” Kanha, please come and play with me.  I want to be your playmate.”  Suddenly, Kanha would emerge from the silver statue and they would play for hours together.  Now the sounds of two pairs of anklets would reverberate in the house.    Raji and the maid would hear this delightful tinkle and smile.  It never occurred to them that it was the sound made by two pairs.  After Bobbie got tired and fell asleep hugging his pal Balgopal, the Lord would merge back into the statue.

One day Bobbie woke up early and looked for his pal but he was not there!  Instead there was a lovely peacock feather on his pillow.

He stared at it in wonder!  He had liked the feather on Balgopal’s gold crown and had wanted one also.  Carefully he put the feather in his Alphabet book. 

Raji had finished cooking and was between chores.  She decided to sit early with Bobbie to teach the alphabets and numbers.  On opening the book, she found the lovely peacock feather.  Upon asking the child where he got it, Bobbie said “Mom my pal Gopal gave it to me!”  Raji was mystified and questioned her son further.  She asked “Which Gopal?”  Bobbie pointed to the silver statue in the swing.  He said “He plays with me every day and even sleeps with me.  I had asked him to get me a feather just like the one he has on his head.”   Raji was overjoyed and believed her son!  She realized the room had a very peaceful aura and instead of the usual musty smell, it had a pleasing fragrance of fresh jasmine flowers and camphor.  She hugged her son and kissed him in pure joy.  She joined her hands and prayed babbling her thanks to Him for gracing their home.
It was Janamashtami day and Bobbie’s parents both fasted and broke it only after midnight.  Next day they held kirtan in their home and invited all the neighbors for lunch.  The silver Kanha seated in the swing occupied the place of honor in the living room where one corner has been converted into a temporary temple.  Fifty six varieties of sweets had been prepared for the lord and the house resounded with sounds of bhajans and rejoicing celebrating the birth of the lord.  Finally it was over and the lord was returned to Bobbie’s room.  Bobbie had been excited by the day’s goings on and had played to his heart’s content with the guest’s kids.  He had other playmates now.

Bobbie was often invited to other homes and between play and day school he became busy and hence did not call out to his playmate as often as before.  Their meetings became infrequent and then stopped completely. 
Bobbie was sent home early from school as he was unwell.  Raji immediately took him to the doctor who said he had caught a virus and gave him a mild sedative and medicines.  The child’s fever was very high and Raji sat by his bedside placing cooling cloth pads on his forehead to lower the temperature.  She was weeping silently.  Then as Bobbie settled down into a fitful rest, she left the room.  

After an hour or so, Bobbie woke up suddenly and cried out to his old pal Balgopal.  He said “please Kanha come and talk to me.  I know I have been busy but you know I love you very much Kanha.”  The lord emerged from the statue and sat by his side.  Then Kanha placed his tiny hand on Bobbie’s forehead and in a few minutes the fever vanished.  Bobbie got up and both played as before.  Then the Lord told Bobbie that now that he had become a big boy he did not need him any more and that whenever he remembered HIM he should close his eyes and he would appear as HE lived in his heart.  He said he had to visit other boys who needed him.  They hugged each other and the Lord merged into the statue never to appear again.

Kesar and Rajratan smiled happily in their portraits which hung in Bobbie’s room and which his sons had left for Bobbie along with the silver statue and the swing.

all pictures are from the internet except last one which is mine 

Little Bobby loved to venture now that he could crawl.  His mom Raji was usually at her wit’s end turning pots n pans, closets, nooks and crannies for him.  Finally she’d extricate him with cobwebs hanging on curly locks and dust smearing his cherubic face.  His endearing smile melted her anger and she hugged him to her bosom, thankful that he was safe.

Bobby

“Mom is really busy today and now that my tummy is full, I can go and seek new adventure.”  His tiny anklets tinkling, the baby made a beeline for his favorite haunt, that secret room with big brass inlaid doorway and old fashioned chain and lock where happily he gurgled and cooed as though playing with someone.  Luckily the door had been unlocked for mopping and dusting.

“Today I am going to explore that dark corner which has some really interesting jars and pots.  Even though I like that silver baby in the swing a lot but if I can crawl into the rocking chair, then I can have a better look.  Let’s see if I am able to climb on.” 

Pre-Partition of India and Pakistan

Chowdhary Ratan Singh was greatly respected in his town in West Punjab, now in Pakistan.  His family owned a flourishing business in dry fruits.  His brothers and their families also lived in the rambling mansion.  Ratan had one son and two daughters.  He got his girls settled early and was on the lookout for a suitable bride for his son Rajratan(Raj).  Around that time there was a problem in the dry fruit supply from Kabul and he sent Raj to investigate.  Raj went to meet their main supplier Aftab Khan who invited him for dinner.  There he met Khan’s daughter Kesar and fell head over heels in love with her.  Kesar felt the same pull.  She knew her father was ready to marry her off to her awful cousin Kaif who was a mean person and hence knowing their families would never agree, they bolted to Delhi.

Kesar’s mother was in the know and not only approved but had given whatever money she could lay her hands on and jewelry.  She even sent a maid to help them.  Both the fathers were angry and washed their hands off them and forbid everyone from even uttering their names.  Ratan cursed his first born but on his deathbed forgave his son and wished they had patched up. 
Rajratan Singh and Kesar were hardworking and after selling their jewelry and diamond ear-rings they were able to have enough seed money to start they own dry fruit business in Delhi.  Both knew the supply sources and through a trusted hand were able to build up their business from scratch.  Here in Delhi festivals and marriages took place all the time hence dry fruits were always in demand.  They had chosen well.  The couple missed their old homes.  They constructed their new home incorporating the beauty of both ancestral homes.  The doors had brass inlaid work and the windows and latticed balconies had intricate colored glass designs to keep the harsh summer sun out.  Cross ventilation kept their home cool.  They were happy except for the one recurring pain in their bosom for their kith n kin whom they missed dreadfully.    Raj and Kesar each had worn cameos of their parents around their neck and hence got paintings done of their elders and it occupied a place of honor in their diwan khana (drawing room).  The kids would get to know their grand parents in this manner only.

Time sped and Raj and Kesar’s two sons decided to study abroad where they subsequently married and settled down never to return. The parents  grieved for their sons realizing how their own parents must’ve felt.  They reconciled and now took one day a time.      

There was a lot of unrest against the British rule.  Some firebrand Hindus decided to bomb the local prison and set free their leaders.  Raj and Kesar were in the bazaar when the bomb misfired and were killed instantly.  Their horse buggy driver and jack of all cook Bakshi quickly gathered up their mangled bodies and got them cremated before sundown. Then they dispatched mail to their sons overseas to return home and immerse the ashes in the holy Ganges.    The letters never reached as the post office was bombed the next day.  The sons remained oblivious of their parent’s demise.  Finally the family lawyer as per instructions sold off the mansion keeping one room locked with family heirlooms for the sons whom he had informed via telegram.  It was a clause that was agreed upon by the buyer in the sale deed.  Their parent’s curse did not let Raj and Kesar rest in peace and their ashes languished along with the heirlooms.  They lingered on.

This was the room which attracted the baby most.  The keys had been provided to the new owner for mopping and dusting and for this service the sale price had been adjusted.

Little Bobby managed to climb the rocker in the forbidden room.  He was in seventh heaven.  There were so many interesting objects on the mantle above the fireplace.  Also there were those huge pictures of old people.  He scrambled down and crawled into the corner, when suddenly four hands quickly embraced him and hugged him.  He felt kisses being showered on his cheeks and squealed with delight.  The maid was passing by and heard the sound and came rushing in.  She brought out the dirty squirmy brat and then his mother saw perfect lip marks on his two cheeks! She got the fright of her life!  She decided to investigate.  She saw the nook where Bobby had crawled and there under the red velvet cloth lay two pots tied up with red threads.  They looked like someone’s ashes!

So the old people’s spirits were still in residence!  Oh my God! Her hand flew to her mouth in a silent cry.  She quickly called her husband home and showed him the ashes.

Next morning they called the local pundit who knew the departed well and said that they were waiting for salvation at the hands of their sons.  Fortunately the sons were finally in town to tie up the loose ends of the family business and property sale and had indicated that they would like to see what their parents had stored for them.  They were grief stricken and remorseful about their callous neglect.  But it was too late.  Next day they performed “Havan” and all rituals required to speed off their loved ones.  They immersed the ashes in the holy Ganges.  In their dream their parents had asked them to gift their silver swing with Bal Gopal to little Bobby their little playmate whom they had enjoyed during transition.

Bobby was in seventh heaven as now the secret room was thrown open and made into his playroom.  He slept with the Balgopal by his bedside.  His elderly friends no longer played with him.  They were resting in peace.

pictures from internet- not mine

A Journey- a Connection

Sometimes, certain journeys are like a renaissance painting, a bit blurred but pleasant on the eye and soul soothing.  Such were the trips we’d made consecutively a few years ago during our visit to India.

My sister has great faith in this particular Devi shrine in Himachal and both times she was delighted to have us n make it a family outing.

We piled into a Tata Sumo van in wee hours.  Bro-in-law’s  best friend Jay likes to drive.  After invoking  Hindu god Ganesh and   goddess shakti also knowns as “devi” we were on our way.  Jay is a diehard fan of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan hence out of his copious pockets he withdrew some tapes and we were treated to some soulful sufi music.   We were entranced.  The mood was set for the trip.

I have absolutely no road sense, so will only dwell on what my mind captured on these trips.  On our way after several hours, I recall having a sumptuous meal at a  (roadside diner)   Dhaba.  Then we were climbing the mountains and the hairpin curves around white limestone/sandstone cliffs were rather daunting.  Luckily none of us was nauseous and then we had halted midway up the mountain at a Shiva shrine inside a cave.  This was a natural cave temple of Trilokpur containing a stalactite and stalagamite dedicated to Shiva. High on the ridge of the cave we saw the ruins of a palace and baradari (audience hall). Ihe Shiva temple was very ancient and we had to bend very low to enter this shrine.  Outside, there was a lovely waterfall(banganga) and I felt this is how mount Kailash would be with Ganga flowing out of the Shiva locks as he meditated.

  After paying due obeisance we were on our way reluctant to leave as it was very peaceful high up in the mountains. The Kangra valley is one of the most picturesque valleys of lower Himalayas. Ancient Hindu Temples like Bajreshwari Devi, Chamunda Devi, Baijnath Shiv temple and Jwala Devi ji dot the country side. The valley, sheltered by the sublime Dhauladhar range, is green and luxuriant. It provides a tremendous contrast in nature.

I recall visiting the various “Devi” shrine during these trips. The one place that completely enchanted me was this ancient shrine of Mata called Bagalamukhi.    The Bankhandi temple is located on the Dehra-Dharamsala road, Kangra. There had been a rock fall and a good portion had fallen inwards inside the cave itself.  The inner sanctorum was intact and the caretakers had built a small entrance and veranda around it.  Belief had it that whatever boon you ask there will be fulfilled.  My sister firmly believed in it after a narrow escape and her husband had promised  the Devi that he would return to give thanks and hold a langar (lunch)for the local children and their families. 

After due respects everyone was busy mustering up the locals and preparing for the langar feast.  I absorbed the peace and tranquility of the place.  It was incredible.  The aura and the vibrations were amazing.  Mercifully there were no crowds and in fact at that time we were the only ones there.  I was allowed to sit in the inner sanctorum and the bliss was tangible.  I closed my eyes and meditated.  I was transported.  It was almost an out of body experience.  I was floating and drawn towards the deity. Peace descended on my bruised spirit like a soothing salve.  The Mother had taken me in her arms and removed all my hurts absorbing them and filling the void with love.  I was in a blissful state.  had journeyed within and without. This shrine’s power was quite potent and I felt it fully. I cherish this experience holding it close to my heart.

*In Hinduism, Bagalamukhi or Bagala is one of the ten mahavidya goddesses. Bagalamukhi Devi smashes the devotee’s misconceptions and delusions by her cudgel. She is also known as Pitambara in Northern Parts of India. (wiki)

**Kangra HP, rich in culture and history is sheltered by the massive Dhauladhar range of mountains and this majestic mountain range surpasses all others in its grandeur The history of Kangra valley dates back to vedic times, more than 3,500 years ago. It finds mention in the Puranas the Mahabharta and in Rajtarangani. Kangra valley is one of the most picturesque valleys in the Himalayas. The famous Bajeshwari Devi temple is located in the town.  Kangra town is situated at the confluence of the Baner and Majhi streams, overlooking the Banganga torrent famous for temples, forts and now a speedily emerging as a business centre. There are two other important Hill stations in district Kangra known as Dharamsala and Palampur. All in all, Kangra with a numerous important temples is a great destination for people looking to go on a religious holiday escape.

Dharamshala is full of Buddhist air and McLeod Ganj is Dalai Lama’s official residence, and home to several Buddhist monasteries and thousands of Tibetan refugees.  We got a taste of mini Tibet here.  The shrine of Budhha was very majestic and peaceful. (Source-internet)

pics. from internet

Guddi was in seventh heaven after she came to know that her beloved author “Shivam” was her KK!  She had read every single book written by him.  She longed for her parents to meet KK in person as she knew they would be impressed by him.  KK and his family were scheduled to arrive in Delhi the following week to attend a formal dinner at the Rashtrapati Bhawan (Presidential palace) that was being given to honor India’s Olympic team and the Republic Day honoraries.  KK’s family was planning to meet with Guddi’s parents during this visit. 

The families met and liked each other but still the Singh family balked at this alliance mainly due to the “Gurkha” hilly features of the Kusho family even though they were impressed by the diluted royal bloodline.
They had reached an impasse.

Guddi quietly took KK to the local gurudwara whose head priest was her friend and right from her childhood had been her confidante and consoler.  She felt he would help them out.

The head priest and seer, a realized holy man was revered by the local community.  His words were treated with due respect and reverence.
He liked Guddi and KK at first glance and knew they belonged together.  He looked into their eyes and liked what he saw.  He gave them his blessings and asked them to return with their parents within the hour. 

The two families met the priest in his private chamber and what he told them, startled them all.

***
  Story of Mirza-Sahiba

The Lord of the Jatts – Mirza Jatt – The Archer of the Archers. The Jatt of the Jatts.
And Sahiba the beautiful love lorn soul.

 
Mirza and Sahiban were first cousins as he was sahiba’s mother’s brother’s son. They fell in love with each other. But she was  forcibly being made to wed Tahar Khan instead, by her parents. Sahiba at once sends a taunting message to Mirza, whom she loves, at his village Danabad, through a Brahmin called Kammu.
 It said:

“You must come and decorate Sahiban’s hand with the marriage henna.”

Mirza Khan was the son of Wanjhal Khan, the leader of the Kharal tribe in Danabad, a town in the Jaranwala area of Faisalabad, Pakistan. Sahiba was the daughter of Mahni, the chief of Khewa, a town in Sial Territory in the Jhang district Punjab,Pakistan. Mirza was sent to his relatives’ house in Khewa to study, where he met Sahiba and they fell in love. Her family opposed the relationship, and instead arranged a marriage with a member of the Chadhar family.

In those times people valued their self respect and love, kept their promises, and sacrificed life for truth. Mirza arrived on his horse, Bakki the night before the wedding and secretly carried her away, planning to elope. Sahiba’s brothers got to know about this and decided to follow them. On the way, as Mirza lies under the shade of a tree to rest for a few moments, Sahiba’s brothers caught up with them.

Sahiba was a virtuous and a beautiful soul who did not desire any bloodshed to mar the one she loved. She did not want her hands drenched in blood instead of henna. She thinks Mirza cannot miss his target, and if he strikes, her brothers would surely die. Before waking up Mirza, Sahiban breaks his arrows so he can’t use them. She presumes on seeing her, her brothers would feel sorry and forgive Mirza and take him in their arms. Now Sials and Chandarhs arrive and surround Mirza Jatt. Mirza Jatt gets his Mighty Sword out and starts defending himself but he is one against many. Despite being alone, he fights like a Mighty Warrior and a ferocious Lion but is eventually outnumbered.  Mirza Jatt is hit on the back fatally by Chandarh Jatts and The Great Mirza Jatt Kharral dies.  Sahiba is grief stricken and mourns the death of her lover.  It is said that she died on the spot out of shock and remorse at what she had done. Other’s say Sahiban slaughtered herself with a sword and thus bid farewell to this world.
 
 
Meanwhile Mirza’s Family, mother and sister mourn as the horse Bakki reaches Danabad without Mirza and they come to know the entire story.  Mirza’s Family soon reach the spot where both Mirza and Sahiba lay dead.
 
Mirza Jatt and Sahiba Jatti were buried together and their graves still exist in West Punjab. Sahiba died on the spot but Mirza the supreme Jatt became Immortal forever, in the hearts and minds of the Jatt People. 

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Some say that Mirza’s horse Bakki was from Shri Guru Gobind Singh’s (10th sikh guru)horse’s blood line. Mirza sahiba’s story is the only story where the guy’s name comes first and then the girl’s. Mirza’s love was greater like a steady flame whilst her’s wavered for both her family and lover.

Mirza–Sahiban is a treasure of Punjabi literature. It is a romantic tragedy

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The priest then revealed that both the families were the reincarnated Jatt families of Mirza Sahiban and after many lifetimes it was ordained that justice had to be finally served and the two souls had to united. 

The Singhs were rather shook up and quietly agreed without any further reservations.  The lovers were elated.

Note: mirza sahibaan’s story and pictures are from internet only

Neil’s Reincarnation- Ageless Love

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Part two: Amber’s Reincarnation

http://www.binaguptapoetry.com/ambers-reincarnation-997.htm

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Neil, the famous mad sculptor was an obsessed man. Ever since he could recall, every night when he slept, he felt he was drowning  desperately trying to breathe and save his love and himself from a watery grave.  He would get up, wet and shivering and his hands would itch to etch that beloved face.  Gradually he started sculpting that face and form that haunted and lived with him night and day.   He only drew, painted and sculpted that one particular face on every surface, material that he could lay his hands on!!  His family would collect his finished pieces and after his permission would sell them at a local gallery where his work was in great demand.  Thus his family and he survived on this dream love of his.   Valentine’s day was in two weeks’ time and he had been commissioned by his teacher who was also his guide and master to sculpt a piece that could be entered in the national competition as its prize money was half a million plus a trip to USA for entry into international art competition.    He was very keen to sculpt something unique and was looking for inspiration… 

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Sohni was the daughter of a potter named Tula, who lived in a Gujrat town in the Punjab near the banks of the Chenab on the caravan trade route between Bukhara and Delhi during late Mughal period.
 
As soon as the ‘Surahis’ (water pitchers) and mugs came off the wheels, Sohni etched floral designs transforming them into masterpieces of art.

Izzat Baig, the rich trader from Bukhara (Uzbekistan), came to India on business but when he saw the beautiful Sohni in the town of Gujrat on the Chenab in Punjab, he was completely enchanted. Instead of keeping ‘mohars’ (gold coins) in his pockets, he roamed around with his pockets full of love. Just to get a glimpse of Sohni, he would end up buying the water pitchers and mugs everyday.
Sohni lost her heart to Izzat Baig. Instead of making floral designs on earthenware, she started building castles of love in her dreams. Izzat Baig sent off his companions to Bukhara. He took up the job of a servant in the house of Tula, Sohni’s father. He would even take their buffaloes for grazing. Soon, he came to be known as “Mahiwal”(buffalo herder).  That name stayed with him for the rest of his life — and thereafter. 

When the people started spreading rumors about the love of Sohni and Mahiwal, without her consent her parents arranged her marriage with another potter.
Suddenly, one day his “barat” (marriage party) arrived at the threshold of her house. Sohni was helpless and in a poignant state. Her parents bundled her off in the doli (palanquin), but they could not pack off her love in any doli (box).
Izzat Baig renounced the world and started living like a “fakir” (hermit) in a small hut across the river. The earth of Sohni’s land was like a dargah (shrine) for him. He had forgotten his own land, his own people and his world. Taking advantage of the darkness of the night, when the world was fast asleep, Sohni would come by the riverside and Izzat Baig would swim across the river to meet her. He would regularly roast a fish and bring it for her. It is said that once, when due to high tide he could not catch a fish, Mahiwal cut a piece of his thigh and roasted it. Seeing the bandage on his thigh, Sohni opened it, saw the wound and cried.
From the next day, Sohni started swimming across the river with the help of an earthen pitcher as Izzat Baig was so badly wounded and could not swim across the river. Soon, the rumours of their romantic rendezvous spread. One-day Sohni’s sister-in-law followed her and saw the hiding place where Sohni used to keep her earthen pitcher among the bushes. Next day, the sister-in-law removed the hard baked pitcher replacing it with an unbaked one. That night, when Sohni tried to cross the river with the help of the pitcher, She discovered, to her horror, that the pitcher had begun to dissolve and disintegrate.
What shall she do now? Different thoughts rushed through Sohni’s mind. Abandon the trip?   Or continue trying to swim without the help of a pitcher — and drown? Her inner struggle at this point is  expressed

 translated   into a song  as follows:

Sohni (addressing the pitcher):

It’s dark and the river is in flood
There is water all around me
How am I going to meet Mahiwal?
If I keep going, I will surely drown
And if I turn back
I would be going back on my promise
And letting Mahiwal down
I beg you (O pitcher!), with folded hands,
Help me meet my Mahiwal
You always did it, please do it tonight, too

(The pitcher replies):

I wish I, too, were baked in the fire of love, like you are
But I am not. I apologize; I cannot help
Hearing Sohni’s cries, Mahiwal, from the other side, jumped into the river to save her. He barely managed to reach her. As the story goes, their bodies were washed ashore, and were found the next day, lying next to each other.  With their death, Sohni and Mahiwal entered into the world of legends and lore. And, in their death the sinners became saints.

The Tomb Of Sohni In Shahdapur City Sindh, which is 75 km from Hyderabad, Pakistan. According to the legend the bodies of Sohni Mahiwal were recovered from river Indus near Shahdapur and hence are buried there.

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The border between India and Pakistan had been opened and many Indians were allowed to visit historical places and also the old homes of their ancestors.  Neil’s family hailed from Uzbekistan and a few members had settled in Sindh, Pakistan.  Eagerly he boarded the ship for Karachi, Sindh.  After sightseeing to his heart’s content the cab- driver suggested that as the tomb of the famous lovers Sohni- Mahiwal was very near- would he like to see it and Neil agreed and he had time to spare before his family returned from another place.    The minute Neil entered the tomb, he felt very much at home and his agonized spirit was at once at peace.  He had arrived at his destiny.  He felt he was very close to his beloved.  Then he saw the numerous paintings on the wall of Sohni and Mahiwal and it was like déjà vu-  Mahiwal looked just like him and the face and figure he had been drawing all his life was Sohni!!!.  At once he  felt that itching in his fingers and he needed to carve something quickly.  He cut short his trip and they returned home.  Neil shut himself up in his studio and emerged after three days drained but elated.  This was his best work yet.  He had sculpted the figures of Sohni and Mahiwal in the throes of love, embracing one another and the two faces showed the ecstasy and peace of union of two loving souls and kindred spirits.  The sculpture was mesmerizing as though crafted by cupid himself!!

He won both national and international prizes.  The dreams stopped too. 

All pictures and  Sohni- Mahiwal info from internet- not mine

Amber’s Reincarnation

 Amber was a handful.  She was like a bird of paradise that had landed in a dove’s nest.  Her middle aged professor parents were rather bemused, at this unplanned delivery by Mr. Stork.  Two older sons were doctors and one was a psychologist.  Their New York home had been turned upside down by Amber!

Amber had red hair and emerald green eyes and a boyish body to match. 
Her curly top was unmanageable and to tame it brought tears in her stormy green eyes. She was volatile by nature and teetered between one crisis and another.  Her rages crested like boiling milk and subsided as quickly.  Professors Malloy were certain she was their reincarnated great aunt Tillie as Amber was her spitting image.  Dougie, Tom and Mike adored their little sister and were her adoring slaves.  Amber tried her best to ape her elder brothers and was good in all sports and could chug beer like them.  Everyone made fun of her pug nose but her gamin face with high cheekbones and wide forehead offset it well.  She’d say that having been punched in growing years that was to be expected!

Amber was four years old when the family went to Cape Cod for summer vacation.  That is when her dreams began.  Every night she would wake up screaming. In the dream she would appear to be drowning and beg for help.  The whole family was in a tizzy.  Quickly they gave her sweet chamomile tea to calm her down.  On return to New York, the psychologist brother tried to speak to her and get to know what was going on in her mind but was at a loss as he had known her all of her four years and no untoward incident came to mind.  He prescribed a very mild sedative for such episodes.

At twenty Amber was a world class painter and once the professors had discovered her talent, sky was the limit.  They had all encouraged her every step of the way and she had become a name in the city and state.  There was a brooding quality in her paintings with incredible floral designs evocative of magical Arabian deserts and the Sirocco.  She seemed like a turbulent semi tragic mix of an Irish beauty with elements of the desert wind and sandstorms swirling within.  She had been to Paris and Italy and the artist colonies in the California coast to hone her talent. 

There was a great buzz in the fine arts world about the incredible Sculpture from India by an upcoming painter Neil Sindhwani.  Amber was eager to have a look too.  She entered the circular Guggenheim Museum where the exhibition was being held and gradually made her way to the winning entry.  On seeing the lovers she turned to stone!  She knew these faces! They tormented her every time she had those awful dreams.  She had to meet this Neil guy and get to the bottom of this mystery. 

The whole Malloy clan saw the masterpiece sculpture and was enchanted by it.  Knowing that their beloved Amber had experienced a déjà vu moment, they decided it merited investigation.   Luckily the sculptor Neil Sindhwani was in New York to receive the prize.  They invited him for dinner.  Neil was intrigued and decided to accept.  

Amber was wearing her favorite green dress that offset her eyes and she looked fetching in her sheath dress.  Neil was captivated upon seeing her.  He too felt he had known her forever and at the cost of being rude, he had eyes only for her.  Amber felt the same pull.   Dougie the psychologist decided to get to the bottom of this mutual attraction.  
All preparations had been made and Amber was hypnotized and regressed.  As she was led further and further into her past, she finally became Sohni the potter’s daughter in Sind, Pakistan.   Sohni had loved a young man called Mahiwal but her father had forced her to marry another.  Their love had been so overwhelming that they met in stealth at night.  She swam across the river with the help of a fired clay pot.  Unfortunately her jealous sister in law replaced her pot with an unfired one that melted in the water and even though her lover tried to save her, they had both drowned. 

All those who were present were shook up.  Neil and Amber were those unlucky lovers from numerous lifetimes ago!

Amber decided to visit the Tomb of Sohni in Shahdapur City Sindh, which was 75 km from Hyderabad, Pakistan. According to the legend the bodies of Sohni Mahiwal were recovered from river Indus near Shahdapur and buried there.  Neil promised to accompany her family and her. 

The etchings on the tomb walls were reminiscent of Amber’s painting motifs.  This was a further proof of her reincarnation.  Her parents and Dougie were satisfied about its veracity.  Plus Amber and Neil naturally gravitated towards one another.  Once the families met and approved, they were soon married and Neil opened his own studio cum workshop in New York along with Amber.  They were a team now.  Amber’s dream was a thing of the past.  She had met her other half

pictures are from internet- disclaimer

The little boy yawned and rubbed his eyes.  It was morning already.  He pushed back the warm quilt and got out of bed.  He washed his face, combed his unruly mop and brushed his teeth.  His brain was working furiously.  He knew he had to tell a story if he has to stay another night in this inn.  That was his payment instead of money.  

There were eight eager faces seated in a circle near the fireplace.  Their eyes were
shining in anticipation.  They were the motherless children of the innkeeper who lacked their own treasure trove of tales. The word streams had passed them by as they had no mother.  Thus the innkeeper valued stories more than money.  There was pin drop silence.  The little boy began…

In the forest lived the happy family Cloude.  They were seven brothers and one sister.  They had made the forest their home after the death of their parents in the tiny German hamlet at the edge of the forest.  They built a beautiful gingerbread house made of wood and lovingly carved each piece with memories of their parents and their old picturesque home town in the Alps.  Thus they basked in the love of their friends and family as captured in the etchings carved in the wood.  The seven brothers were named after the seven colors of the rainbow violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow orange, red as per their nature.  The fearful one was yellow, the envious one green, the princely one (violet)purple, the blue one was always pining and indigo loved the ocean and the orange one had a quick temper and the red one was the bravest.  Together they formed a brotherly rainbow of love and swung their baby sister in this and cherished her like a precious pearl.  They adored her and she adored them in turn.  Her name was Rose.

“I am going to make the best bread pudding ever and surprise my colorful ones! Ha! Rose exclaimed to herself pushing back the golden curl that kept caressing her lovely brow. 

She was indeed lovely with cherry red lips, rosy cheeks, curly gold spun hair and a pert nose.  She had perfect tiny ears from which hung two shiny diamonds which glistened in the sunlight.  She made a lovely picture in her crisp white apron, ruffled dress and pink hat.  Suddenly she felt warm on the nape of her neck.  She turned and saw the most handsome man she had ever seen in her young life.  She blushed and fell headlong in love.

“Oh my god” exclaimed Aldo as he sharply reined in his horse.  “I have never seen such beauty! I am in love!”  Smartly getting off the horse Aldo goes on his knee and gallantly bows to Rose.  “Fraulein, please be kind and do tell me your name and allow me to court you as I have fallen madly in love.”  Rose says softly, “I am Rose and I too have fallen for you!” and lets Aldo kiss her hand.  Soon they are deeply in love and wish to marry.

Brothers Cloude are both happy and miserable.  They are happy as their beloved Rose is on cloud nine in joy but they are sad as they cannot bear to live without her.  Aldo is a prince and will bear her away to his palace and they will never be able to see her again.  They agree to do something.  They decide to consult the oracle.

Early morning they set forth deep into the forest.  The oracle is as ancient as time itself.  He has a long flowing beard and cape and fingers like talons with long nails. He has a crystal ball which reveals many secrets and goings on in the world.  Suddenly he tilts his head and hears the sound of galloping horses.  Someone is coming to visit.  He closes his eyes and knows who they are and what they want. 

One by one the brothers troop inside.  The oracle puts a long finger on his lips to quieten them and gestures them to come close.  He consults the crystal ball and then nods and says.” Bring me a lock of Aldo’s hair and I will make an amulet which your sister will wear.  This will make Aldo forget his past and you can all live happily ever after.”  Then with a shaking finger he thunders, “If your sister loses this amulet, you will lose her forever.”   Brother Purple rushes home stealthily and clips a lock of Aldo’s hair and brings it to the oracle.  Then they return home happily with the amulet.

Rose is very happy as she is getting married today. She claps and dances a jig.
She starts singing on the top of her voice.  It is sweet like the tinkle of a wind chime.  Her yodeling is echoed in the mountains surrounding the forest.  The fir trees clap in unison.
The forest, mountains and valleys all rejoice with Rose.  The brothers knock and enter and lovingly tie the amulet on her right arm and tell her that this will keep her safe.  Rose promises to wear it always.

Time flies on wings and Aldo and Rose have a bonny son.  They name him Hans Aldo.   There is rejoicing in the forest.  The brothers throw a big party and all the forest people come to bless and rejoice with them.   It is seven years since Rose and Aldo got married.  The elves, goblins all gather dressed in Sunday best.  The forest animals are made welcome too.   They all live like a happy family.  The tree boughs are in a happy trance and the flowers sway rhythmically to the beat of the drums.  The full moon smiles benevolently and a silver fairy alights from its moonbeam.  The evening star sends his twinkling fairy also.  The whole air is bursting with fun and frolic.

Rose and Aldo are dancing one last German Polka when the amulet falls off and is lost in the dirt kicked up by all the dancing.  Aldo stops suddenly and shakes his head.  He is as though in a trance.  He forgets the present and only remembers the past.  Abruptly he leaves the forest on his horse at a gallop.  Rose swoons in a dead faint.  The party is over.

The brothers are greatly disturbed and sad.  They feel guilty that due to their own selfish love they had kept Aldo from his loved ones and now even their beloved Rose was sad.
They seek the oracle once again.

The oracle consults the crystal ball and tells them that during these seven years, Aldo’s father the king had passed away in grief and his subjects had been searching for their prince high and low.  Now that Aldo has returned, he has been crowned the King and the Queen mother wants him to marry a princess.  But Aldo is sad and is always touching his chain which has a cameo of Rose.  He wants to find his beloved.  But he has no memory of the past seven years.  The oracle gives them a magic potion that when sprinkled will help Aldo regain his memory fully and his past and present will merge

Next morning the Cloude family leave on a string of horses with Rose seated on her favorite horse with baby Hans.   They travel high and low but cannot find Aldo.  Rose is pining away and they are very sad.  Dispirited they travel deeper into the forest when suddenly the ground gives way and they find themselves in a strange cave. 

The cave is very dark and mysterious.  A flapping sound makes their horses jump.  They are jumpy themselves.  Then they see two glowing sharp eyes zeroing in on them.  They belong to a man dressed in a long brown cape, a bowler hat with a pipe in his mouth.  His nose is hawk-like and his square chin makes him look like a man of determination.  He introduced himself as “Sherlock Holmes’.  He is the world famous detective from Baker Street, London, England.  From behind emerges a chunky gentleman who extends his hand saying “I am Dr. Watson” Then Holmes asks them if he they needed his help.  Eldest brother then tells the whole sorry tale and begs for help in finding Aldo as Rose was slowing dying in grief.   Holmes says “Aha! It is elementary my dear Purple Cloude.   Just blindfold Rose and her loving heart will direct you to its other half that is waiting to join it.  You see the heart always knows” Then the cave vanishes in thin air and the brothers find themselves back in the forest.

Next morning they decide to follow Sherlock Holmes’s advice and blindfold Rose.  In a very short time they reach Aldo’s kingdom.    They tether their horses nearby and make their way towards the palace.  Meanwhile Aldo is already headed in their direction propelled by his grieving heart.  Soon he comes close to them but as his memory is lost he does not recognize them.  Quickly the brothers sprinkle the magic potion and Aldo comes to his senses.  His past and present join up just like Rose and his heart come together in love.  He carries his son now Crown Prince Hans in his arms and joyously gallops towards the Queen mother.  Happiness reigns thereafter.

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