The Psychic Healer

Shankar was born in a middle class home in the outskirts of Lucknow. His father was a Government servant attached to the Lucknow municipality and his mother was a primary schoolteacher at a local Lucknow school. Shankar also was a student in the same school his mother was teaching. Shankar had a younger sister Geeta.

His was a humdrum middle class life without much excitement or tension. As a young kid of between 4 and 5 years Shankar was beset with nightmares he could not understand or explain. These were of cataclysmic events like plane crashes, earthquakes, tsunamis and hurricanes. As a child he was petrified by them and but wasn't able to clearly communicate to his parents. They felt that it was part of his childhood fantasy of growing up. These dreams then abruptly stopped and then came back to haunt him at the age of 13.

This time prior to the second series of nightmares, he had a vision. An angelic figure came in front of him one afternoon after he reached home from school. Without any verbal communication this spirit conveyed to Shankar that he had a gift of helping others, and that he needed to use it wisely else he would lose that gift. Shankar was confused and as a teenager was even more skeptical to convey his "vision" to his parents. Thereafter after this incident the nightmares once again commenced. In early 2001, he had strange visions of planes crashing into tall buildings in a place he had only seen in Hollywood movies. Shankar did not disclose these nightmares to anyone but it did effect his school grades. His concentration fell and consequently his school grades plummeted. His mother, being a teacher at the same school, could not provide a sufficient explanation to her colleagues on her son's poor performance.

Shankar had an eerie feeling that these terrible dreams were linked to the "vision" he saw. He also felt that his gift was in seeing into the future. However it was a future that had some cataclysmic events linked - it wasn't a future that had mundane or ordinary events. When the planes crashed at the World Trade Center in New York in Sept 2001, Shankar was convinced that he had witnessed this event in his dreams months prior to its happening. The gift he was bestowed was "he could see the future" albeit some dramatic future event that he may not have a control of.

Shankar wasn't particularly delighted with his gift - the nightmares left there imprint on him the next few days and he needed to come to terms with their fallout. Further he never wanted the exalted position of a "visionary" sent on earth to save mankind. Despite his dislike of his dreams, they continued and were getting more vivid and clear as time passed. He decided to once again convey his dreams and their interpretation of "visions of the future" to his parents. As expected, they pooh-poohed them to his teenage fantasy which was resulting in his poor school grades. It was only after he clearly predicted his grandfather's illness leading to his ultimate death did his parents truly believe him.

Shankar's parents also did not view his visionary gift well. As middle class Indians, they dreamed their son becoming a doctor or engineer having settled in a well paying job. A soothsayer / seer of kinds wasn't exactly what they wanted out of their son. Thus Shankar's gift was kept under wraps and not talked at length at any time.

The dreams however continued and they severely impacted Shankar's academic performance. His 10th & 12th grades were poor so he did not qualify to be an engineer or doctor. Even an IAS was out of reach for him. He best got himself a Class III central government job in New Delhi as a section officer.

All this while Shankar believed that his true calling was the gift bestowed to him by the angelic figure he saw. In Delhi, away from his parents in Lucknow, Shankar was determined to use his gift for the purpose for which it was given. His first clients were at the Central Government office in New Delhi. His colleague's child was very unwell and wasn't responding to any form of medication. Shankar decided to try his hand out - he had read about psychic healing and tried his hand on it. As the young child had a few options left, Shankar decided to attempt psychic healing on the child. Miraculously, the child was cured. The young boy healed so rapidly that it left his parents and doctors astounded. Shankar himself could not believe the results. He quickly got himself acquainted with other psychic healers in India and across the world. This was a very select community who were bestowed psychic powers of vision and healing. Shankar realized that his true calling was that of a psychic healer.

The little boy's miraculous recovery provide Shankar the impetus to involve himself as a healer. His fame spread quickly through word of mouth. Shankar quickly built himself a successful parallel career as a psychic healer. He would be in his makeshift clinic from 6 am to 8.30 am, and thereafter attend his government job only to revert back to his clinic at 5.30 pm sharp. In between during office hours he was inundated with calls from potential clients seeking clarity on his healing skills.

The psychic healing practice boomed - his clients were poor and middle class people who sought Shankar's help in his alternative therapy. He was simple in his approach and direct to his clients. He clearly told his clients that his healing was the choice of last resort when all conventional healing failed. Further, he could never guarantee success till he was fully tuned with his psychic skills to solve the case. Despite these caveats patients came in large numbers. Shankar could not deal with all cases and each case resolution deeply drained him.

At this point Shankar quit his government job and became a full practicing psychic. Apart from healing skills he had a penchant for predicting the future. His psychic / medium skills became better and he did not have to resort to nightmares alone to solve his clients problems. All in all, Shankar was putting to good use the gift he was bestowed with.

Shankar's life was about to turn again now - he met with a lady who was a Jyotish in Delhi. Shankar's fame and practice attracted her to him. Shankar was in need of companionship in Delhi and Maya actively pursued Shankar. Maya's own Jyotish practice was really not going anywhere. There was several practicing Jyotshi's in Delhi and Maya one among many. However, she was well heeled and connected in Delhi party circles. It was Maya's idea to latch on to Shankar's skills to advance her business. As a psychic Shankar could never his the skills on himself but always on others. They married and Maya set up her practice alongside Shankar's

It was Maya who encouraged Shankar to take more Jyotish type clients. Psychic  healing was the last resort healing and favored only by the middle class. The money and glamour was there in predicting the future of the rich and wealthy. Shankar wasn't keen in the beginning but was persuaded by Maya. Her client list were impatient for something different and Maya had Shankar cleverly lined up to serve them. The money was not so much in the consultative fee but more on the prescriptions for a better karma. Maya was now selling expensive amulets, rings etc to clients. From a psychic healer Shankar began peddling the future based on psychic skill to rich clients.

As he got more involved in his new venture with Maya, Shankar realized his psychic skills were slowly ebbing away. He could not feel his client's problems on a psychic basis anymore.  Earlier, he could feel the energy levels of his patients owing to psychic gifts and provide a cure for the deficient/excess energies. He now resorted ever increasingly to palmistry and face reading. In fact most of his answers were contrived to meet the client's demands and therefore his readings were trumped up. Clients kept pouring in, however, thanks to Maya's marketing and social skills.

One day Shankar felt has his gift had completely disappeared. He just another normal quack making a quick buck along his wife. He revealed his predicament to Maya. She would have none of it - this was a business doing well and now it was running on connections and contacts.

Shankar looked himself in the mirror one day to try and completely confused about his predicament. In all these years, he never witnessed the angelic figure, and this time it appeared before him. The message though unsaid was clear - you have lost your powers because you did not use them for humanity. 

The very next day Shankar decided to quit Maya's business and return to his old ways as a psychic healer. It was a bold decision and Maya wasn't very happy with it. Shankar's old loyal clients and followers returned as did his psychic healing powers.

In the meantime, Maya's Jyotish practice floundered on account of Shankar's absence. She shut shop and joined Shankar in his Psychic Healing endeavor. 

The Black Money List

It was a cool October evening in Mussorie, and the first pangs of winter seemed to have set in. Sitting in the guest house veranda Chimanbhai seemed restless. The beautiful valley and greenery before him were not comfort enough - thoughts rankled him that led him back to his father and family business.

Chimanbhai was part of a prosperous Gujarati family business that dealt in bullion trade. Lachhmandas & Co were wholesalers of gold for three generations in the Kutch district. This was a highly profitable business that was essentially transacted in cash and therefore for generations created vast amounts of unaccountable money for the Lachhmandas family. The family was generous to all they were associated with and they saw to that the majority of the community and district they resided in were looked after. The District Magistrate, local Police Commissioner and state bureaucrats were friends and taken care of. The prying eyes of the Income Tax authorities kept were thus kept in abeyance 

The bullion they had was imported or in some cases smuggled from Dubai and they further sold the gold to the several top jewellery stores and brands in Gujarat, Delhi and Mumbai. After the opening up of the Indian economy in the early nineties, demand for gold increased in India and as a result Lachhmandas & Co's profits multiplied. Supply was basically smuggled gold, as the imported gold was hard to come by, and therefore the unaccounted element of their profits surged heavily. A traditional conservative Gujarati family, the Lachhmandas’ led a fairly simple lifestyle despite their immense wealth. The real worry was however, was where to park the ever increasing unaccounted cash. One was to park it in land, but that proved difficult to park all their cash money as such transactions invited the tax authorities to take a closer look at the land deals to ferret out the cash element of the transaction.

One of Lachmandass’ advisors along with a client suggested a safer better route - convert the cash into bullion / foreign exchange and park it into a Swiss Bank. Though the interest element was negligible (in fact there was a hefty fee) on such deposit, its veil of secrecy of its account holders and the safety of funds was legendary. Further, such bullion / foreign exchange could be used in their future businesses.

After several rounds of deliberations within the family and trusted advisors a bank was selected. Using the traditional hawala route and after several rounds of travel between India, Switzerland and Germany funds were parked with a Bank in Switzerland. It was operated on a no-name basis and Chimanbhai's father was its designated operative. After his death in 1998, the operating authority moved to Chimanbhai. 

Chimanbhai's thoughts then moved to a sudden Indian Govt's interest in unaccounted money in Swiss Banks. All these years there was only a whimper of protest amongst the media on India’s unaccounted wealth in Swiss Banks. Suddenly in 2014 it has become an election issue with Narendra Modi and BJP winning on one of their key planks - in unearthing India's black money and bringing its perpetrators to justice. Lachhmandass & Co firm had contributed substantially to the election kitty of both the leading national parties over the years and Chimanbhai felt secure in that - not so now.

Chimanbhai had moved to Mussorie for a couple of days on the advice of his doctors for easing his worried mind. They suggested a nondescript resort away from the din of regular tourists. The resort he was at was a small but beautiful homestay run by a Delhi based family who themselves were visiting then.

"Sir, Madam and Baba would like you join them at the lounge for TV and dinner" the personal butler assigned to Chimanbhai's room quipped. As this was homestay, there was only a single TV (a large flat screen) shared by all residents. Meals were served either in the room or at the lounge where the select guests intermingled over long protracted meals. 

Chimanbhai was relieved that other than Mrs Bahl and her son, there were no guests in the homestay. He asked his travel agent for this kind of reclusive arrangement and he was happy to have got a resort to his taste.

As Chimanbhai moved across to the lounge he saw Mrs Bahl, a rather sparse dignified woman rarely seen in Punjabis of Delhi. To Mrs Bahl left was here son, smart but rather awkward looking lad flipping through TV channels.

"Good evening Chimanbhai", beamed Mrs Bahl - "I hope you find the resort to your liking and I hope everything is taken care of " - Mrs Bahl still smiling and confident.  “As you can see, this is an exclusive place and we cater to a select range of clients sourced through word of mouth", Mrs Bahl explained. 

"Good evening sir, - I am Atul", quipped the son.  Chimanbhai greeted both of them and affirmed that his stay so far at the homestay had met his expectations.

"Let’s watch TV", said Atul - "Sir, do you have any preferences of channels". Chimanbhai hated Saas-Bahu soap operas as he hated other family spun channels. "Let’s watch the News" said Chimanbahai trying to skirt all the Hindi soap operas

Atul went on the Times Now channel which was still advertising mode before its chief anchor Mr Arnab Goswami was to appear. Mrs Bahl ordered for a pot of tea and snacks after Chimanbhai politely refused the alcoholic beverages offered by Atul and his mother. The tea and the snacks arrived, all quietly sipped the warm tea in cool climate.

Suddenly, the TV came to life - the booming and omnipresent face and voice of Arnab Goswami came smack across the big TV screen. "Who will punish the guilty and why is the BJP not revealing the all the names of all black money holders of Indian origin in Swiss Bank accounts" thundered Arnab. "Why is the BJP going back on its election promises on bringing back black money and punishing the guilty" 

Both Mrs Bahl and her son seemed to be glued to the TV action to have cared to take a look at Chimanbhai's face. It went ashen and it seemed he would felt happier sitting under the dining table. "Damn that bugger Arnab" Chimanbhai spoke under his breath scarcely evincing any interest from Mrs Bahl and her son. After a team of panellists launched themselves into heated debate did someone break the silence at the homestay lounge.

"These ba......ds deserve the death penalty" Atul spoke in anger seeking approval from Chimanbhai and his mother. Mrs Bahl chided him gently "It’s not your concern Atul, the law of the land will take its course, don't you agree Chiman sir" Chimanbhai tried to speak but no words were coming out of his mouth. "Mom, as an Indian citizen I have a right to my views - these people steal from our country and take it outside India. Most of this is ill-gotten wealth of people who have misused their power and positions to swindle the nation. We as nations are tough on petty crime but cheats of this order need severe punishment in order to deter others" Atul spoke still venting his anger.

In all this diatribe, Chimanbhai's blood pressure rose swiftly - not so much from the mother and son talk but from the fact that Arnab mentioned that the Supreme Court had severely reprimanded the Indian Govt and sought to have the full list of the transgressors. Now the names were beyond the protective custody of the Government in power. It would now be in the hands of India’s highest court.

In act of insanity Chimanbhai defended the culprits "Do you expect honest citizens pay a high rate of tax that is frittered away by the Govt on poverty schemes. Instead it is better served in other lands"

Mrs Bahl was aghast at Chimanbhai’s statement but the young lad caught on. Murga phas gaya - he thought and his mind started working overtime on ways to needle Chimanbhai.

As the TV debate ensued, dinner was served. It was apparent things were not looking good for Chimanbhai. He was distraught and wasn't feeling well. He wished he was home and not ensconced in a nondescript homestay somewhere in the Himachal hills with a middle aged lady and her belligerent son for comfort.

Atul took the dinner opportunity to revive the black money debate - "what sir" he asked Chimanbhai "is your opinion on the kind of punishment that needs to meted to such offenders". Chimanbhai replied "It must be proved that these people are offenders first. All people having Swiss Bank accounts are not necessarily hiding ill-gotten money. It may be legitimate money for business purposes" Atul reacted immediately "but sir, if their money is legitimate then why use a Swiss Bank where the key attribute is secrecy of funds and ownership. Why not keep it in any commercial bank in a foreign country?"

Chimanbhai realized his arguments were going nowhere - he was trying to defend the indefensible and putting himself in a tight corner. "Let us hope even the Supreme Court reveals the names, it may so happen that some sitting or retired judges may find themselves in the list" remarked Chimanbhai. "Very unlikely" quipped Atul "those who deposit in Swiss Banks must have large funds to qualify for such deposit and are subject to high bank charges. Judges maybe corrupt but are not privy to such large funds" Chimanbhai winced, this boy has got me, he felt. Atul carried on "now that the Judges have the list, I am sure it will be leaked by the Govt soon else they could appear as party to the offence. I have friends who seem to be in the right places in Delhi who can obtain any Govt document" boasted Atul. "Sir if you are on Whatsapp, I could also provide you the list on an immediate basis, once I get my hands on it"

Chimanbhai was now feeling real weary and had enough of the brat. He decided would call up his travel agent tomorrow to immediately book him a ticket back to his hometown.

Chimanbhai had a bad night - some very bad thoughts were passing his head. He felt a small fry in the big list that was prepared by the Govt. He was neither a politician nor big industrialist like Ambani or Adani. He was a mere trader and in the scheme of things he was on the lower rank of offenders and therefore a potential scapegoat. He wished that his firm had legitimately paid their taxes in the past so that he would be spared of his present stress and discomfiture. In all this, he made a bold decision that night - from now on my trading company would pay all its taxes to the government irrespective of the outcome of the list. He did want any national shame burden to his children and grandchildren.

Chimanbhai cut a hasty retreat from the homestay the next day - he called his travel agent and got a morning taxi organized to Delhi. He left after settling his dues but not saying his goodbyes and thank-yous to Mrs Bahl and her son.

As the taxi crossed the Uttarkhand border, Chimanbhai started experiencing breathing difficulties. He realized he was suffering from a heart attack. With no hospital close by, the cab driver was forced to admit Chimanbhai to a local government dispensary. The doctors and nurses at the dispensary were ill-equipped to take care of a cardiac patient. An ambulance was called from the nearby general hospital. It took over an hour which proved fatal for Chimanbhai. Chimanbhai died on the ambulance on the way to the general hospital.

In the ensuing next days, there were hectic parleys between Surat and Dehradun. The family cremated Chimanbhai in Haridwar and disbursed his ashes in the Ganges. 

In the meantime, if anyone had noticed a Whatsapp message was sent to Chimanbhai's mobile phone.

It was sent by Atul - "the list is leaked sir, - here it is attached. Fortunately your name is not on it"

The Giver

"Our greatest weakness lies in giving up. The most certain way to succeed is always to try just one more time" - Thomas A Edison

"Remember the happiest people are those not getting more, but giving more" - H Jackson Brown Jr

Both the quotes above have a common theme - to give. The first quote can mean to give up or to relinquish control or to surrender. This surrender is by a person to his circumstances or to his weakness or to some extraneous factor. There are forces that push people to give up and fail in their mission of life.

The second quote is about "giving out" ie, here the giving is generally based on an individual choice and not determined necessarily by external forces. 

A friend of mine had both these giving qualities in abundance. He tragically died recently of a heart attack and the story of his life was so much about giving. Both these qualities in a human being make for a tragic compelling story.

Aditya gave up to his disease, which was diabetes. It was an awful surrender to a malady that could be controlled through proper diet, exercises and medication. This giving up was a surrender to his circumstances which could have been avoided if he had someone to direct him on where he was going wrong in his fight against the disease. By giving in Aditya was not happy with the circumstances which made him succumb to his disease.

On the other hand, all his life I saw him giving out to his family and friends. This act of giving was a voluntary act that he seemed so intrinsically bound by. He gave to his sisters, his mother, his cousins, his wife and children. So by giving out he was happy.

Such is the contradiction of life - being a giver gave him both pleasure and grief. 

To live life well and truly both the Givings needed to be balanced, Giving Out in a rational manner so that it does not impact the Giving In, or vice-versa to not Give In to circumstances in order that the Giving Out pleasure could be prolonged

The Pakistani Consultant

The year was 2007 and the months were spring-summer of that year. I was in beautiful Tashkent, the capital of Uzbekistan on a World Bank project was "Bukhara Samarkand Water Supply Project". It was the reconstruction of the water supply pipelines to the ancient cities of Bukhara and Samarkand that had corroded  and required improvement as well as enhancement on a growing population of these two twin ancient cities. This was a project by SMEC Ltd - an Australian development company based of of Canberra.
The consulting team comprised of our team leader who was South African white - Mr Johan Opperman, who was an Engineer along with two other engineers - an Australian named Mr Richard Browning and a Pakistani called Mian Mohammed Younous. There was a procurement expert, Filipino lady, who I had earlier worked in Kazakhstan, the effervescent Marivic Bandril and the Financial Expert in myself.