The PEN iS ShakING !

I do know that I do not know,
I 'gain recall to forget it,
I do want to give it a show,
And then just forget about it.


It's in my dreams, in my heart,
Its lying above my head, so far...
Its there in my hand, in my pen
All I need, is to give it a start.


The needles black going around,
And their little children sitting around,
Waiting to be fed,
There's an hour left, but here's the sound...


A stone from infinity,
it shook my head as it reached me,
It tossed, it bounced, it weighed an ounce,
Yet it never left me,
For it came from infinity.


I now know that I came to know,
I again forget to recall it,
For, I just have given it a show.
And you don't seem to forget it !!!

अंधे की नज़र

                                
                                                                  
                                                 डरता   हुँ,  डगमगा  ना  जाऊ  कहीं,

                                          इस   बेरंग  सी  दुनिया  मे  मैं  हुँ   यही  कहीं,

                                              लोग  कहते  है , दुनिया  कितनी  हसीन, 

                                      मैं कहता ,मेरे लिए क्या आसमा और क्या ज़मीन, 

                                                       सूरज की गर्मी ,जाड़े की ठंड, 

                                                      ना जाने क्या होता इनका रंग, 

                                                     अब तो एहसास ही है मेरे संग, 

                                                        क्यों की मुझसे रूठे है ये रंग। 

                                                  जिधर देखता हुँ,गुज़ता एक ही नारा, 

                                               अब तो है मुझे मेरी लाठी का ही सहारा, 

                                                नहीं दिखता कोई रंग ना कोई नज़ारा। 

                                                          मुझे नहीं है किसी  का डर, 

                                                          क्यों की ये अंधेरा है अमर, 

                                                          इस अंधेरे ने मुझे है रोका, 

                                                 क्या करू मेरे नयनों ने ही किया है धोखा, 

                                                     डरता हुँ ,डगमगा ना  जाऊ कहीं, 

                                                  इस बेरंग सी दुनिया  में मै हुँ यही कहीं। 

ईद

रमज़ान का यह  आखिरी दिन,
ईद गाह में सब आकर मिल,
मक्का की ओर देखेंगे,
अल्लाह हु अकबर गायेंगे।

तैयारियां अपनी चरम सीमा पर,
किसी अवसाद का नहीं है डर,
आ ही रहे होंगे वे नमाज़ी,
जिनके साथ ही नमाज़ अदा करेगा क़ाज़ी।

चादरें बिछ गईं हैं, चप्पलें उतर गयीं हैं,
उस परवरदिगार के आँगन में भीड़,
पंक्ति में खड़ी हो चुकी है।
इंतज़ार है  तो बस उस एक लव्ज़ का,
जो सबको अपने घुटनो पर देगा बिठा,
माफ़ी मांगते हुए ही  सब  बैठे,
और  उस  अल्लाह  की  अदालत में सिर  झुका,
 मचल उठा एक नमाज़ी  का  दिल
आरम्भ  हुआ  ईद  का  ये  दिन.


तीस  दिन जिसके  इंतज़ार  में,
खाना  और  पीना  सब  छोड़ा  था,
आज उस भूख और प्यास का
अता-पता कोई ना था

सिर पर टोपी हाथ क़ुरान पर,
मुख से,
ज्योंही अल्लाह का लफ्ज़ निकला,
सर्वसम्मति की करी दुआ,
सबका दिल बाग-बाग हुआ।
यह देखकर, उछल उठा एक पंडित का दिल,
प्रारम्भ हुआ ईद का दिन ।
आरम्भ हुआ ईद का यह दिन ।।   

Better, Bitter, Dreams…

“Suzanne”

 

The heavy voice of an twenty five year and three sixty four day old boy, in a cold environment, trembled as he tried to pace as much faster, so as to catch a pretty girl, in black clothes and a sky blue muffler, whom he had wished to be his beloved and for whom he had run, all the way, five kilometers during the time when the beautiful moon is at the peak of its virginity. His voice had a touch of antagonism, a glimpse of innocence, a stroke of intense remorse, a sigh of love and a sensation of accomplishment, all composed alluringly in a single word which he had spoken out from his red lips with an expectation that the name of her, if she had heard might make her hear his heavy footsteps and she might become so impressed that she might open her arms after turning back to welcome him and his ‘foolishness’.

 

But to his fate, the girl, who had been walking with slow steps, increased her push on the ground.

 

“Suzzzaannne…” the lovely name of a ravishing girl was pronounced so well that it almost meant, ‘wouldn’t you stop my sweetheart.’

 

The girl stopped. She kept her slim hands on her face.

 

“Rehman”, she screamed, enabling her concealed displeasure to vacate.

“DO NOT COME NEAR ME”

 

Rehman, the boy who stood twenty meters, facing the girl longed for her to face him. He had followed her instruction. He had strived to do that all his life. All he demanded was that she must face him, she must talk to him about all the contretemps which were generated in their lives, in a way she could tan his hide, and in a way their liaison may have a new beginning, but all this could ensue once she faced him, and that was what he desired.

 

But the girl, instead of looking at him kneeled down on the dusty path on which she was walking. She opened her leafy green satchel, took out a book, which she swung in air.

Rehman jumped on his feet to catch the black colored book. On the metallic cover page of the book, deeply engraved was her name, and her book’s name. “VQYHA: A journey from B to D”

 

“What is this, dear?”

His tone was unchanged, his expressions tainted.

“A return of love, which you had been aspiring for”

 

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he opened the pages of the book.

 

“Sometimes last phases of one’s life are much more significant than their previous phases of lives. They might not explain you the cause, but they may morally emphasize on prevention and cure.” 

 

“What does that mean?” He yelled.

 

“Nothing, but something which may be nothing but not anything.” 

 

The boy closed the book

“Open it, open it, open the last pages”, said the girl.

As usual, he followed the ‘order’.

What he saw, was single lined page on which was written something with a pencil and a stencil, which was almost illegible for him, but still he brought the so called book close to his eyes. He tried to read.

“G…..F….no, not F, E…..Q……..W…..Q…..V…U”

“What is this?”

“Isn’t it our college name, G.E.Q.W.Q.V.U or George E Quereshi Wahida Quereshi University of Venupur.

“Well yes…”

 

The girl got up.

 

“Are you all right”, asked Rehman

 

“Yes I am, I want to go to JEQUWAKVYU”

 

“You mean our college……”

 

“My ‘JEQUWAKVYU’, My ‘JEQUWAKVYU’”, her voice began to fade. The girl threw up.

 

“You aren’t all right”

 

She raised her hand

“Please stay away from me, as far as you can…”

 

“Look, you need a doctor…”

 

“Happy Birthday Mr. 26”

 

She fell down on the ground.

 

------0 (~) 0------

 

Loads and loads of fire, in the middle of which lied myself, in a state of shock. As I was falling in the profundity of fire, I began observing something contouring. I began seeing a black impression of a number. Two and six, the number was twenty six. The time it took for appearing, the same it retook for vanishing. At the instance when the number faded, I opened my eyes.

 

“So it was a dream”

“Oh god”, I sighed. I got up from my bed. I drank water. Two glasses, three and then four. I washed my face. I started brushing my teeth. As I switched the television on, the doorbell clinked.

 

“Good Morning Sir,” said Mr. Jonathan Ray as I opened the door.  

“Good Morning, Mr. Ray. Come. Sit. Did you have coffee?”

“Yes Sir. I ordered for you too”

“Oh! Thank You Mr. Ray!”

 

I, Manish Chhabra, Executive Manager, Maryloc Inc., with my colleague, Mr. Jonathan Ray was representing our company at the ‘BizFest Convo’ which was going to take place at New Delhi, India. It was an extremely huge event in which nearly four hundred companies, all over the world were participating. I was selected by our CEO, Mrs. Aradhya Vyasa to represent our company among the top companies of the world, and not to say, I did not want this opportunity to escape my destiny.

We were in Hotel Oberoi, in Delhi, when my phone rang.

 

“Hello”

“Manish”

“Yes”

“This is Bhargavi”

“Hey… Bhargavi Mishra, right?”

“Well, well, well, finally I’ve reached you.”

“Oh buddy! How are you?”

“Well I am fine, but someone is not fine”

“Who”, I felt myself in tension.

“Do you remember ‘Ayushi’?”

I felt my mouth open. Ayushi, a name which had crossed my ears after three years. A name which had become my companion in my bad times, a name which was with me even when I was not in a condition to support myself. A name which had supported me. A name for which I had lived for years. A name for which I left her.

 

“Hello”

“Yes, Yes, Yes, I remember.

“How can you say that? You know, you cannot forget her”, she said.

“What happened”, I ignored her.

“Listen, when I was talking to her, on phone yesterday, she was extremely tense. She was thrown out of her company. When I asked her the reason she denied to tell me and at the same time here phone cut. I tried many times, but I could not reach her.”

My heart started throbbing fast.

 

‘Was she the same, Suzanne’

 

“Where is she now”, I asked

“I don’t know but yesterday she was in Delhi.”

“Where are you now?”

“I am at IGI Airport, waiting for my flight”.

“Can you give me her number?”

“Well, Ok!”

 

 

I dialed her number. No one picked up.

I redialed her number. The ring was almost completed when someone picked up the call.

“Yes”, a hoarse voice of a man welcomed me.

“Can I talk to Ayushi Mehta?”

“Who are you?”

“This is Manish, Manish Chhabra.”

“Ayushi is dead”

“No, Ayushi cannot die”

“Ayushi, is dead beta, I am his father speaking. Her dead body is lying in front of me”, the man’s voice softened.

The phone dropped from my hands.

 

------0 (~) 0------

 

Rehman picked up the book, with intense labour. On it was engraved ‘VQYHA: A journey from B to D’. He opened the book. Nothing was either printed or written on it. He turned the page, nothing again. He started turning the page faster nothing was written in it. All of a sudden he recalled something. He turned to the last page. The seven letters were missing. He closed the book.

‘VQYHA: A journey from B to D’. Some thing is there in ‘VQYHA’. He tried to analyze the word. What is there in this word? Something hidden, something unexpected.

What…is…the…hidden…secret…?

“Lets say, V for 22, Q for 17, Y for 25, H for 8, A for 1. If we subtract each of them from … from … from … 26 yes, total number of alphabets, we get 4, 9, 1, 18, 25, that is, D, I, A, R, Y. Diary. So this is a diary! And if we apply this to G.E.Q.W.Q.V.U…!”

 

"Imagination"

                                        "Imagination"

                              Imagination!, imagination,
                             the gods biggest creation.
                           it is the power,that human has,
                        do not worry about any situation .
                                      
                                      if there is none,
                       that itself is the answer to someone
                           it doesn't matter who you are,
          it doesn't want,boundaries that man has build so far.
its the word that makes difference between thoughts,people                       
                                         and nation
      
                          nobody has to borrow,sell or lend,
                             its the soul's in side blend
                           that how you tend to imagine.
                   it does not know the direction of universe 
                   but the deeds that we do act as a curse.

                         it follows no rules ,no regulation,
                          it has a good friend to walk with,
                             but do not know how to talk.
                somewhere or the other i know the answer,
                     would come to answer themselves.
          
                                cause it is the only light,
                            to think right and shine bright,
                             by imagining the imagination.                   

मधुर मधुर मेरे दीपक जल -महादेवी वर्मा व्याख्या [ENGLISH]

मधुर मधुर मेरे दीपक जल

 महादेवी वर्मा

मधुर मधुर मेरे दीपक जल!
युग युग प्रतिदिन प्रतिक्षण प्रतिपल;
प्रियतम का पथ आलोकित कर!

सौरभ फैला विपुल धूप बन;
मृदुल मोम-सा घुल रे मृदु तन;
दे प्रकाश का सिंधु अपरिमित,
तेरे जीवन का अणु गल-गल!
पुलक-पुलक मेरे दीपक जल!

सारे शीतल कोमल नूतन,
माँग रहे तुझको ज्वाला-कण;
विश्वशलभ सिर धुन कहता "मैं
हाय न जल पाया तुझमें मिल"!
सिहर-सिहर मेरे दीपक जल!

जलते नभ में देख असंख्यक;
स्नेहहीन नित कितने दीपक;
जलमय सागर का उर जलता;
विद्युत ले घिरता है बादल!
विहंस-विहंस मेरे दीपक जल! 

MEANING :व्याख्या:

मधुर मधुर मेरे दीपक जल  by Mahadevi Verma has its central theme that requests the almighty that he may come to her as her spirit enlightens his path and that her spirit may for ever burn unto enlightening the very path through which lord comes to her.

Para 2.
Verma ji lived away from her husband. In an all lonely world for her, even when large populations existed around her she was solitary. She asks her प्रियतम (the almighty) to come to her and relieve her of all anxieties for she possesses no further strength to retreat to him. She calls her spirit or soul the lamp or दीपक and asks it that it shall burn anyway. That burning you enlighten the world and the Almighty's path, so elaborated that it shall extend till infinity.
Para 3.
The poet asks her enlightened soul that it must also radiate heat to unexcited and the minds who have retreated to darkness and guide them to the path of prosperity. Very similarly as a lightbug is attracted to दीपक and burns to death symbolizes its want for knowledge.
Para 4.
Mahadevi ji was alone between a large population. No one she could call her own; people who lacked any compassion or love towards her. Therefore, symbolizing those she calls the stars lacking compassion and any romanticism for even being so populous, they do not radiate light and no particular is benefited from such light while solitarly a moon even though a bit, enlightens the earth and supply people's mind with peace. And even though the vast ocean has unfathomably deep water, yet deep within his heart burns. Burns in anxiety of lacking people's love and (in the poet's case) being away from his beloved. Lastly she says- even though the clouds may seem harmless and soft yet they are capable to produce high voltage electricity and that it does have fire within, fire of anxiety which she herself has controlled.

Thanking You

I left her at the railway station. She climbed onto the moving train as I helped the coolie to throw her luggage onto the train. She had two suitcases and of course, her bag. The two suitcases were quite heavy as she was going to complete her studies to Kolkata. The Bengali gullible nature, she had thought, might suit her. The coolie, a man with great optimism, smiled as he pushed the second suitcase onto the train. I asked the coolie to wait, as I climbed up the train.

 

 

 

The train was speeding up. and it looked as it may anytime leave the station. Ignoring all the noises, I looked into her eyes. Her expressions had changed from excitement to anger. Her eyebrows were raised. I knew that I must get down early, because, it may happen so that I might leave the station along with the train. All I wanted was a brief hug, and positively, wish her best of luck. I just wanted to make her comfortable. In that moment when I was with her. But instead of doing that, I very quietly, pulled her suitcase and went inside. I found a single seat empty in the first compartment. The seat belonged to her. . .I sighed. . .

As I pushed the luggage under her seat I looked at her again. Her face did not even mention that she was going to leave me. Her face on which I was expecting a drop of tear, did not moisten its eyes. The face of her, which had become my only favorite thing to see didn't even look at me into my eyes. A bit of anger had resided on her face. But I wanted the opposite, I wanted a smile on her face.

Though the only thing she did was she asked me to get off the train as fast as I could, unless I may be inside the train for next one hour. Suddenly, through the foggy window of the coach I saw yellow painted board on which was beautifully engraved "Lucknow Junction". I immediately rushed out of the gate and landed on the platform, but still I was running along with the train. As I stopped, I turned my eyes to the same door of the coach. What I saw was a bearded man with a black coat standing on the door. I paused. My eyes began trailing the same door. I stood there for at least six minutes to witness any kind of love which perhaps, I thought, I may see. I wanted, yes, I wanted to see her bidding be good bye. Any kind of affection, any kind of love, any kind of friendship or any kind of result for my love from my sweetheart, I wanted to see, but, I admit, I partially saw what I desired, that the coolie came running to me, satisfied all my yearnings, and I, foolishly, turned to him, and smiled, and with great effort opened my mouth just to say,


"Thank You........!"   

LOVE, DESIRE, PUNISHMENT

A man with a dark complexion and black hair, dipped his hand into the revolver case attached to his belt, for he is the fan of touching it. The lusty curves, the groovy butt, the black tint on the pistol has made him, its lover, and he virtually dies to touch and fondle the great beauty of his small, light and a not so dangerous machine. Of all the fragments he wants to touch, the trigger is the most tempting. Besides the pistol grip, is the most irresistible. He likes to feel his self-made machine, caress his initials R.P.V. engraved on it and adore its beauty. The bullets without which, his alluring machine, does not have a meaning (for those who like to use it without appreciating it), have been thrown by him in the dustbin, for he feels that the usefulness of anything must not outlive its tempting beauty. The splendor of his so called ‘love’ has made him to deny the fact that around him a world exists which maintains a fear from his great and intense intimacy.

Ravi’s friends had pleaded him, to show them his creation. They also wanted to witness the adorable machine, understand its functioning and figure out the reason as to why Ravi had not used it even in the happy moments of his life. But Ravi had denied it. He says that anything or anyone should not be used to fulfil ones pleasures. “This is not the thing to enjoy. I’ve made it not for any reason. This is my creation and I don’t want anyone to exploit my creation with cupidity.”

“Perhaps, if he had not shown his creativity, Shakespeare wouldn’t be alive today in our hearts.” A philosophical friend of Ravi had said once.

“And perhaps, I don’t want to live in hearts of anyone after my death. I just don’t want to…..”Ravi had made a counter philosophical yet practical answer to his ambiguous friend.

One night when everybody in the neighborhood was sleeping, and viewing the sweet or perhaps bitter memories in a colorless format, Ravi was lying on his bed relishing the beauty of his 7R-990, a name he had given to it, with his black and happy eyes and stroking its curves with the heart full of desires. His love for his creation had been constantly increasing with the passage of each day, every hour, every minute, every second. That day an idea occurred to him.

“Sue was talking right, I should use the gun. What would happen, when people would come to know, that I am such a foolish who didn’t use his creation himself. Beauty is one thing but use is another. Perhaps when I die, the people might call me a fool.” The thoughts were jamming his personal way of thinking. However the thoughts were beautiful, no doubt. He had now agreed upon himself to use the gun. “At the farmhouse, OK! I shall test it at the farmhouse. There at the little hill, I shall use it.”

The thought of pulling the trigger which had made a presence in Ravi’s mind did not let him sleep. He first kept the revolver in his drawer safely, lied down but again he sat up, jumped down from the bed to open the same drawer. He wanted to hold his priceless possession in his hands, but he again closed the drawer. He sat down on the bed. He lied down. He closed his eyes. The suspended thought of desire did not let him sleep. Ignoring the wonderful thoughts, he tried to divert his mind. But the magnetic thought of pulling the trigger, pulled him off. He was now trying to imagine himself at the farmhouse with his beloved, ‘The 7R-990’. He would first hold the pistol and stand straight, in attention position. He would then lift his right arm up at an angle of ninety degrees with his vertical body, facing the mound. He would then lift his other arm to hold and support the arm which would be parallel to the ground. He would the clutch the pistol with all his strength and pull the trigger with his index finger. A smile rushed from his ear to ear on his face as he virtually heard the sound of bang. “Yup! I shall do like this.” An excitement made its way into the deeper minds of Ravi. The feeling of love and that he was finally going to fulfil his so-called ultimate desire, began captivating his five senses. He again got of the bed and took his possession into his hands. He wanted to do it right now. He could not wait for just 10 hours. “Oh, ten hours is a foolish waste of time”, he thought. Till the time his mind was so completely engrossed in playing the harmful yet pleasing game that Ravi could not think what was he going to do. He opened the dustbin, took out the bullets and inserted all the six bullets into the magazine and loaded it. He then stood in front of the mirror viewing his posture. The he brought the pistol near his lips and kissed the barrel. After positioning himself again, just as he imagined in his dream, he closed his eyes…

BANG!!!!!!BANG!!!!!!BANG!!!!!!

******Epilogue******

Mr. Shreeprakash Vajpayee, a retired army general was reading a newspaper named “Akhbari Khabar, The Chronicle of Lucknow”. He had read four pages and was going to turn to next page, when a news article attracted his attention.

IIT STUDENT MURDERS NEIGHBOUR, it said. Mr. Vajpayee read through the words as fast as he could. The article read like this…

“New Delhi:  Last night, a student had managed to murder his neighbor by his self-made gun. The incident took place at the Ratan Vihar society, at 1:00 a.m. when a DMRC worker Mr. Girish Chauhan was murdered by a student of Delhi IIT. According to local people, the student’s relations with the neighbor’s family had worsened. This had been accepted as the cause of murder. If the lecturers’ talks are to be believed, the student was brilliant and had a pure image in the college.

At the time the incident took place, the student named Ravi was holding his gun. After seen by the local people Ravi lost his control over himself, and also lost his self-made gun out of his hands. The local people handed the culprit to the police. From the culprit, the police has collected a self-made pistol which only has R.P.V. engraved on it.”

The fifty-five year old man turned the page.

The Trial of 'GOD'

“He is sitting in the jail, joyfully recollecting his past moments of happiness when, he used to control the entire world. Next day, the jury might offer him to either surrender or punish him to suicide. He is the only one who created misfortunes, made scientific discoveries impossible, Bermuda triangle replenish and also made natural disasters to occur. The one who was feared by a number of people and therefore worshipped long ago is now behind the beams of laser lights, worshipping or rather pleading the jury to mercifully bury him for he might correct his mistakes in the near future.”

The religious books prove that the processes of his mind are 10% more advanced and futuristic than the Homo sapiens, that is why the present convict number 704 was considered by people The ‘Generator-operator-Deystroyer’.He was considered the one who was above all, no one could reach him, yet he is with everyone, everywhere. Then how did God become convict number 704?

The story began when Mr. John Capoor, the scientist, philosopher and a not so great devotee of God, proved HIS magical sustenance irrational. According to Capoor’s theory,

“There is a single person in the world that lives in the form of spirit. He can be considered as God not because he is supernaturally powerful but he is more equipped in science than the rest f the world.”

The theory gained worldwide attention in the year 2098. But since the theory was not based on scientific proof, people lost interest in it. However the proof of this theory came 200 years later when the scientist Dr.Manish Chandra (2258-2338) was experimenting with his self made ‘Spirit Detector’. Spirit Detector is a newly constructed device which looks like an ancient projector. It emits ‘spisen rays’ which are spirit sensitive rays. This projector like device is when switched on and the rays are allowed to fall on a concrete wall, it creates a sensation of slight pull in the atmosphere. Due to this pull, a spirit present around can be easily dragged to the place where the effect of ‘spisen rays’ take place. The moment a spirit comes in front of the spirit detector, the ‘spisen rays’ get absorbed in the spirit. The absorption creates uncomforting in the spirit, and it shakes itself to get rid of it. By doing this it gathers energy which is further converted to light rays by the action of spisen rays. Thus when the light rays start emitting out, the illuminated spirit can be transformed back to life temporarily without the use of any bony and fleshy skeleton. The device was created 25 years later by the honorable scientist, Dr. Chandra to examine the death of ancient people and ensure that a past disease must not enter today’s ecosystem. He was the one who helped the world to eradicate AIDS from the society.

Dr. Chandra was testing his invention when he found a spirit to emerge before him. He was waiting excitedly but the to be appearing person suddenly disappeared. This was felt odd by the scientist. This was the first case when the spirit had disappeared. Till date he had studied, an enormous, 164 spirits, but this was really an amazing case. He now rechecked his equipment and found that the spisen rays were converted to light rays on their own. Since the light rays transmitted through the spirit, it easily got the chance of escaping. He thought of all the possible reasons for the conversion but found none.

However, after a deep study and a concentrated effort for two years he found a possible explanation. Normally no spirit have brains, but if the spisen rays come in contact with a human or a brain containing humanly spirit (consisting of all internal features of a human), they were easily converted to light rays. According to his dictionary, the humanly spirit which has brains is called God or something like the single person as Capoor suggested it to be. This experiment showed clearly that this god is just like us (for he made his clones) but considers and shows himself as a spirit (to create difference between his clones and himself).

“He is felt crying, sobbing as if it was not his mistake. He had made everything which we find in the religious books. The incarnations, myths and superstitions were created to humiliate the common man and show him that this humanly spirit is above all. He himself wrote the highly imagined fiction of Ram and Krishna and gave a moral,

“If you will worship me, I shall love you. But if, you are rude to me, or if I find your devotion worthless, I shall punish you so much so that you will remain in a life struggling to get out of the black chamber consisting of all deadly things, with a fresh “aroma” of dead bodies.” ”

Dr. Chandra now understood each and every word of Capoor’s theory. Capoor’s theory, which he earlier neglected because of unavailability of proof was now completely on him. He was one of the personnel who made the theory, a law. A law, which should have been satisfied the spirit of John Capoor. A law, which gave tremors to religious persons, all over the world. A law, which was now being cherished, because it punished the humanly spirit. A law, which showed the world that science is above all, above than the people, above than religion, above than countries, and above than what is called as ‘GOD’.

Dr. Manish Chandra now made a plan to capture HIM. He understood that the spirit may create problems of the future generations. So he now thought of a method to catch hold of this humanly spirit, imprison and then materialize him. Chandra set up his invention in a room made up of concrete walls. The walls were covered with thick carpets. In the centre there was a cage. A cage built up entirely of Laser beams. Laser beams have a property that they do not allow any spirit to pass through them. They burn the spirit if a part of them comes in contact with laser lights. For a time the laser was switched off while the spirit detector was switched on. The ‘spisen beams’ acted on the spirit and when it was just going to appear, it disappeared and soon, the laser was switched on. The spirit, the humanly and the heavenly spirit, was finally arrested in the laser beams, virtually, pleading the human generations. It may seem good if I say,

“GOD is pleading to his children to leave him, for he might correct ‘His Mistakes’ in the near future.”