A Book Without Chapters: ...Contains the Key to Salvation, the Longest Spoken Sentence in the World!

By Rohit Sharma

A love triangle
…
King Joseph (KJ), Jasmine, and Riot
...
...

The year is 1966; it is the time when it is a sort of fashion that people study things for years at a stretch and become proficient in them.
Moreover, he is the Ph.D (Psychology) scholar King Joseph, the mastermind genius KJ of the Oxford University.
What next is to happen in this novel is quite obvious. KJ has worked hard 'night and day' and has become proficient in his topic of thesis, that is, to study the effect of perfumes on human mind so well that has become capable to alter and hence control the emotions of people he wants by exposing them to fragrances; even of the mentors of his esteemed institution named Oxford.
But of no use! Alas! He cannot alter the mind of Jasmine whom he has recently fallen in love with. The reason is that she is so fond of jasmine perfume that already remains surrounded by its fragrance all the time. For some time, the story tells us that how he tries to deal with the situation. But further, Riot, his old and estranged friend comes in the scene to make the matters worst for him. Of course, in the Oxford where numerous subjects are studied and taught, occult sciences have never been in the prohibited list. Riot had finished doing his Ph.D in them quite a long time ago. In fact, Riot is an occultist who has spent his entire academic life studying Indian sciences like yoga, transcendental meditation, astral projections, remote viewing, telepathy, psychokinesis, and a lot many others including some such ones too which come under the category of black magic. Even KJ sees that with his slight wish, he can lift people in the air and make them fly.
This story was originally written scene by scene to claim the Oscar Award one day for original screenplay but landed here in front of you, just by chance.
The name 'A Book Without Chapters' has its meaning explained in the last pages when even despite being bloodthirsty in the rivalry of a love triangle situation, Joseph (KJ) realizes that he, Riot, Jasmine, everyone, just everyone, even the person reading this novel's introduction right now, is just like a book. The main difference however lies in the fact that some books in this world are with chapters and some are without chapters. The concept of simulation of a person as a book is so simple and so strong that the writer expects that the reader shall also begin to see one's own life as a book, just as the actors of this novel begin to do by the end.

LET US SEE NOW, WHAT KIND OF BOOK YOU DISCOVER YOURSELF AS ! !!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing India
• Release date: Sep 12, 2019
• ISBN: 9781482872248

Book preview

Copyright © 2019 Rohit Sharma. All rights reserved.

ISBN

978-1-4828-7223-1 (sc)

978-1-4828-7224-8 (e)

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

www.partridgepublishing.com/india

09/12/2019

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Shrimad Bhagwat Geeta

Chapter 18th, Verse number 5.

*

Yagya daana tapaha karma na tyaajyam kaaryameva tat,

Yagyo daanam tapashchaiva paavanaani maneeshinam.

{Yagya (sacrifice) daana (charity) tapaha (austerity) karma (action) na (no) tyaajyam (forgo/leave) kaaryameva (kaaryam : should be performed, eva : indeed) tat (they), Yagyo (sacrifice) daanam (charity) tapashcha (austerity) iva (indeed) paavanaani (purifiers) maneeshinam (the wise people)}

The meaning: The actions of sacrifice, charity, and austerity should never be foregone and should indeed be performed; sacrifice, charity, and austerity are indeed the purifiers of the wise.

* the Sanskrit lines on which this novel is based.

A BOOK WITHOUT CHAPTERS

This might be nothing better than just the second best book that some reader may go through in the entire lifetime,

but even then,

it is still going to be the one which shall make the reader discover that the best book to ever come across in life is the one,

none other than,

much beyond the worldly physical body and all its related nearby aspects,

the reader’s very own self.

PREFACE

My dear valued readers,

First and foremost, I wish to express my intention behind putting ‘,’ with ‘and’s, ‘or’s, etc at some places in this novel. This has been quite often done in order to remind you time and again that as long as you are reading this novel which is set up in the backdrop of the Oxford University of late 1960s, you are virtually being present in the Oxford campus as in English grammar, this is known as the Oxford comma. Quite interestingly, contrary to almost everyone concerned in the world, Oxfordian intellectuals justify the use of such a comma which hence has been a tradition in the Oxford University, is well accepted in other reputed places like the Harvard University, and for people like me is also a passion in day to day life. In the chaotic world of today, I have felt a number of times that its use in general life brings stability to the mind (that is, putting comma with and, or, etc at some special places which also does not confront English usage rules in a sense) and with this experience, I gathered some courage to use it here for you also to experience the literary ecstasy adjunct to it; I might one day get a Nobel Prize for such a work, one day, who knows, ha ha ha, just kidding!

Jokes apart, I wish to tell that this writing of mine is mainly dedicated to my paternal ancestor Pundit Gauri Shankar who had gone to do Ph.D in Oxford, had returned after doing D.Litt. from Germany, and had started a university in India in a temple. He had later taken sanyaas (renounced his home and other worldly affairs), my father once told me.

My father Mr. Madan Sharma was very fond of reading. I remember that his specs used to rest on the acme of his nose, focusing his sight on some or the other of many big books that he used to read as a hobby while lying straight. My dear readers, please forgive me that this work is somewhat lengthy on the pretext that as it is also dedicated to my father, it tries to cater to the needs of voracious readers like him who usually complain that by the time one begins to read a book, the book is over.

Perhaps, for some readers amongst you all, going through these lots and lots of pages written start to end without chapters might seem somewhat difficult (God forbid, I am sure that for some, it will be exceptionally enthralling too), but I request you all to please restrain your complains about it unless you reach the end as its end holds the reason of the same (of keeping this book chapterless). I hope that the forgiveness that I ask for keeping this book chapterless is the last one that I will need to ask regarding this work.

In addition to my mother Mrs. Kailash Sharma, wife Nidhi, kids Yamantak and Maadhav, brothers and sisters Sumati, Sukirti, Suman, my in laws Mr. J.K. Bakshi, Mrs. Reeta Bakshi, and Mr. Munish Bakshi, as well as friends like Pardeep and Kartar, schoolmates like Manu and Balwant, collegemates like Sandeep, colleagues like Anil, Deepak, and Baljinder, and neighbourers like Mukesh and Rajan Nadaan, I would also like to thank the special good fellas in my life who deserve to be thanked for a very wide variety of reasons, namely Mr. P.S. Pattara, Mumbai, Mr. Vijay Chopra, Bandra, Dr. C.D. Shastri, Gurdaspur, as well as my teachers, especially Mathew Sir, Kanwaljeet Madam, Gurgaon, Dr. H.S. Payal, Dehradun, Dr. Vivek Aggawal, Punjab, and Dr. Nirmal Singh, Hoshiarpur.

I would also like to thank my dear students Anjali, Shivani, Gobind, Rahul, Yoyo Shantanu, Rishu, Ranjan (the great team of Saga Stompers) who played their part well in front as well as behind the lens. I also thank Mr. Arvind Kumar and Professor Neeraj Kumar for their glittering photogenic appearances in this novel. Also, my sincerest thanks to Anil Verma, Pardeep Patel, Munish, Mandeep, and Gurpreet (who is also my student) for their excellent photographic prowess and picture processing technologies evinced here. I also express my gratitude to Mr. Nitesh Minhas, Chandigarh for sharing his valuable knowledge of tattoos with me and also to Virginia Mills, Surrey who had helped me regarding the knowledge of trees in England when I had got crucially stuck in that detail of this story.

I present an earned thanks to Mrs. Suman Sharma and Ms. Sonia Verma for proof reading this novel, to Mr. Karamvir Singh Rajpal and Mr. Sandeep Kumar for giving their time and attention, and I also thank my very respected senior colleague Mr. G.S. Aulakh for motivating me to be a writer. My thanks to my teacher Mrs. Shashi Lamba. Also, my sincerest thanks to my Publishing Associates Sam Taylor, Ann Minoza, Earl Triston, Joe Anderson, Mary Oxley, Gemma Ramos, Kathy Lorenzo, and Mark Bermudez, along with the indispensable Emily Laurel, Simone Rodriguez, and Jane Cole at the Publishing Representative end, as well as to Publishing Consultants Sophia, Pearl Jade, Nancy Acevedo, Rich Mendez, Vanessa Dean, and Lace Galvez for taking this book further with its marketing campaign, and above all, to all the above for being my support with tons of patience.

It is a matter of great fortune for me that on the pretext of this novel, I got a chance to work with one of the finest photographers and photo artists in the world, that too, not one or two but so many of them, namely my soul scaring friend Valefar (New York), Heidi Hanson (Asheville), Jorge Guillen (Reston), and Holger Hubbs (Pacific Grove) of United States, Siobhan Hill of United Kingdom, Katie Phillips of Windsor, Canada, Niek Verlaan of Utrecht, Netherlands, Manfred Zimmer (Chiemgau) and Werner Weisser (Augsburg) of Germany, Nuzrath of Mawanella, Sri Lanka, Bishnu of Raipur, India, Artur Maltsau of Minsk, Belarus, Christine Sponchia of Zurich, Switzerland, Jackie of Canada, Suman of Kathmandu, Nepal, Patty Jansen of Sydney, Australia, Gerd Altmann (Freiburg), Anja Osenberg, Sascha Fritz, and Oberhausen of Deutschland, Germany, Annamaria Anderson of Stockholm, Sweden, and last but not the least, Rohit Sharma of Chandigarh, India, ha ha, just kidding!

Lastly, a statutory warning; the views expressed about the sacred institution of marriage in this picnovel are solely those of the fictional character named Professor Castigliano, do not necessarily reflect the views of the author in any sense, and the author hereby disclaims any responsibility for them, ha ha ha, just kidding!

Wishing all a Happy Reading,

a humble servant of a decent language,

just an ordinary artisan of words,

Rohit Sharma.

Ha ha ha, my dear valued readers,

Welcome aboard!

Some games are played entirely and entirely in the arena of the mind.

In the beginning, precisely, in the shopping mall scene, a few shopkeepers of London could not judge that they had been used by Joseph King, a character in this story who uses his knowledge of psychology to create a sort of calculated randomness, a misunderstanding in their minds and then later makes his own use out of it.

I, Rohit Sharma, the writer of this story, have also tried to use the instruments of my words to keep adding a sort of randomness, a confusion throughout this story, just as one places dominoes one by one, creating an ambiguity, an incompleteness in your minds, a very mild, hence also almost an unnoticeable one, and then, I also am going to make some good use of it in the last which is going to be something like just hitting the last domino in its series.

It shall be the time when you shall come to know about this small trick of a novice writer having a weakness of composition.

But the question is, prior to that, let us see, would you be able to judge that?

Ha ha ha, now, let’s get cracking !!!

Y ear 1966, London; it was evening time and was raining heavily. In the arcade of shopping mall, people had taken shelter in shops, in bus stop, under asbestos sheds encroached by shops, and in every such possible place where they could in order to keep themselves dry. This mall was not just a place where only the gentry used to come for the purchase but was also a shopper’s paradise for middle class people. Shops here were related to the normal day needs of a mediocre person such as grocery, bakery, vegetables, sweets, confectionery, etc.

The rain had actually come without prior indication, and people were taken by surprise. They hence had crouched themselves under any possible thing that could protect them from rain.

And after some time, the rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun. The air got cleared from dust and pollution. The sky was clear, the wind was pleasant, and everything became more beautiful than before. Everything got cleaned up in fresh and clean rain water, leaving just one exception, that of the muddy water on the ground. It splashed every time when people walked hurriedly upon it and spoiled their clothes. It was a real nuisance to walk upon for people who had come to shop in the mall and were wearing clean and the then fashionable clothes.

In almost no time, everyone came out of one’s niche, making the scene look like a swarm of honeybees flying off a bee hive when a stone hits it.

Soon, people started shopping, and the prior existing silence was substituted by a bedlam of bargaining customers. The usual market scene got rejuvenated.

As the normal activity of that place assured that everything was fine, a 25 year old boy came out of his hiding place, shaking the water droplets off his hair. Still doubtful about weather, he checked the rain droplets by extending his palm in the air and when once assured, further had a satisfactory look at the sky to confirm and celebrate the cessation of rain. Walking gingerly, not wanting to step inside water filled pits, he moved towards the shops for some shopping. His gait was slow, and his each step was carefully taken to avoid any mishap to his dear pair of trousers. He must have thought himself to be a very clever person in not letting his clothes being spoiled by dirt, but that was another thing that with each step he took, the slippers that he wore sprinkled big drops of muddy water on his back. Also, a 25 year old guy did not seem to be a correct definition of his personality. He looked more like a sexagenarian if someone did not notice his boyish face. In addition to the serene gait of an old man, he wore a checked blue shirt, loose trousers, and slippers; everything from head to heels was old fashioned. The adrenalin of youth seemed to be somewhat missing in him. He was none other than Joseph King, a student of psychology at Oxford University, who had come for the weekend shopping in the mall.

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Pic: He wore a checked blue shirt, loose trousers, and slippers; everything from head to heels was old fashioned. The adrenalin of youth seemed to be somewhat missing in him. He was none other than Joseph King, a student of psychology at Oxford University, who had come for the weekend shopping in the mall.

Furthermore, a student of Oxford also seemed to be erroneous information if the actions of this gentleman were considered. He shopped biscuits, fruit cakes, and such sundry items and filled them in two huge paper bags which he held or better to say hugged in his arms. Each time, he bargained till the limit of driving the shopkeepers mad and uncomfortably made payments from his shirt pocket. Such a stupid could never be allowed in the reputed Oxford campus was what may have come to the minds of shopkeepers who had been told that he was an Oxfordian and doubted their sources of information. This brat named Joseph always wore a broad silly smile as he talked which then was further degrading his impression on people.

Vegetables, such as cauliflowers and tomatoes, were the last to be purchased. Whether he bought a big cauliflower to consume it or else to decorate it on the top of his paper bag remained a mystery. This cauliflower was the symbolization of cessation of that day’s shopping, and so, this boy next moved towards a small bus stop which was very close by. After some time, he lifted his nose in order to respectfully welcome the approaching bus and to be more precise, to read the number of the bus.

‘Right! The number is four zero one. This would go; I should board it,’ Joseph talked to himself and boarded it.

Inside the bus, the rush was terrible. Joseph got no seat to relax, no place to place his purchase, and almost no space to stand. So, he kept half standing and half notched up between the adjoining people. Still, the typical broad smile on his face persisted.

Soliloquy, that is, talking to one’s own self was an old, well cherished habit of Joseph, and inside the bus, he resorted to his this very pastime, as he murmured to himself, ‘I came to know that a diver named Carl is in American navy; he is the first negro to get that job ... he indeed would have gone through a lot of hardships to compete against as well as convince the white skinned Americans to let a negro get a reputed post ... lastly, I learnt that two American planes met with an accident and the hydrogen bomb that they carried got drowned in the sea where this incident took place ... for two months, other divers failed to search the missing bomb, but this person Carl searched it out ... he did in days what any other American could not do in months ... but in doing so, he lost one of his legs ... what an irony! Now, the Americans have got an excuse to throw him out of the navy ... let us see what happens now ... the story seems interesting, enough interesting that Hollywood might one day make a movie on it, who knows, titled something like Men of Duty, Men of Dignity, or similar such name, ha ha ha, just joking!’

After a great deal of such soliloquy and the adjunct rhythmic jerks of the bus, his stop finally came - the Oxford, the Great, the Elegant, the Majestic Oxford, or in its abbreviated form, the GEM Oxford, the magnificent gem of not only the British empire but also of the entire academic world. Before he got down from the bus, he heard a whisper say, ‘what a good fortune, man! This insane looking man must be working in one of the hostel messes. He must be telling his relatives and friends that he serves in the Oxford.’

This comment was not a joke. Actually, people had great respect and reputation about the institution and simultaneously as well as interestingly, an insane man’s, a cook’s opinion about Joseph, the Joseph King of the Oxford.

Joseph smiled as he heard this and began to walk towards his hostel.

Hap must have done it is a maxim that any wise man indeed would have said after seeing Joseph at that moment. Going through the tough academics of Oxford isn’t a child’s play; how a mad looking person like Joseph could have done it? He perhaps would have been a shining student at the time when he would have got admission here, might not have later kept up with his studies, and the immense workload of books might have caused a breakdown of his head. Thus, he was like this that day - half insane. Or it might be because of some reasons other than mental burden, he would have gone mad. For example, he might have got a severe electric shock, met with an accident affecting his brain, or any other similar reason. These were only a few out of the many reasons which people used to attribute to his presence in the Oxford as a student when they first saw him.

Joseph, famous outside the campus as a dumb head, a disgrace to the Oxford, entered the hostel premises. A few boys standing on the terrace, wearing the usual boys hostel stuff of bermudas and underpants, and indulging in the usual boys hostel gossip took notice of Joseph walking towards the stairs with the bags. Joseph had his room on the top floor. Immediately, a boy rushed towards him. He was so fast in approaching Joseph that to some extent, he resembled a lion heading towards a lamb. It seemed that he intended to torment Joseph in some way.

But all that is apparent is not always true. Joseph entered the university premises and was no more the same foolish Joseph of the mall. Those who see him are those who often debate with those who know him was what was famous about him in the Oxford. To explicate this saying about Joseph, the shopkeepers, the bus passengers, and all those who saw him outside the campus were those who only saw him, but inside the campus, the students and even the lecturers knew him. Those who saw him had the opinion that he was insane, whereas those who knew him personally, dealt with him, and attended lectures with him called him a genius. In very rare people, this trait is seen ... genius to be and insane to look. Being a genius himself, Joseph knew very well that the crux of being a genius, the mandatory condition of being a genius, is to appear to everyone as just anyone, except a genius. It is therefore indeed, genius for some is often insane for the rest; the same was then the case with Joseph King of the Oxford. In one of the most respectable institutes of the world, he was respected as an intellectual even by the lecturers, let alone the students of his study stream, that was psychology.

The boy who reached him offered to pick the bags, very respectfully. This respect was a result of the amicable behaviour of Joseph towards all his junior class students. They often used to come to his room, asking about their doubts, and he used to satisfy them. Joseph refused to hand over the bags, the junior insisted, and this continued for quite a while till the junior won the argument and took hold of them. On their way to the room, Joseph smiled and said, ‘You all were giggling when you saw me. You must be wondering about the need for me to go for this shopping at weekends and deliberately trouble myself with this time consuming activity.

The reason my dear is change. I suggest that you should not only study psychology but should also try to implement it in your lives. I observe that it is not adequate for me if I only memorize my subject topics. For something additional to my lessons in the name of change, I go to public places like the mall. There I find people in which I search for psychology in action. You must have studied the book Experimental Psychology. I do a lot of experiments from that book upon the people I see and meet. Do you remember the theory named stimulus-organism-response? While I deal with people, say shopkeepers, I give them stimulus while considering them organisms and observe their responses to that stimulus. For example, once, the stimulus I gave to the shopkeepers was that I looked very sick, even unable to stand, and observed their responses. Most of them became exceptionally helpful, whereas few of them tried to coerce inordinate prices from me, thinking that as I was sick, I would not like to bargain. That is what I do; people think that this person seems to have lost his mind, whereas I think that it is a good deal for me if with this much effort, I get so much practical knowledge. In a blue coloured diary in my room, I have a record of many such psychological experiments. You may have a look at it if you please.

Also, during today’s shopping, I could have made myself more comfortable by either carrying a fabric bag or hiring an Austin cab for the return. But that would not have served my purpose of a tiring schedule without which my usual studious life of an Oxfordian is liable to become monotonous after a few weeks.

I learnt this from a friend of mine. His name was Riot. Although he was academically not a student of psychology, he used to read about it as a diversion and was a living example of its practical implementation in life. I remember that on his advice, I had done this weekend shopping a couple of times and had later offered an apology saying that since I had been seeing no gain in it, I wished to quit from this schedule. Then he had told me the ulterior motive behind making me go for this shopping. He had said that in some deep and unknown corner of my mind, I had developed a fear of weekends. I remember that I had affirmatively said yes at that time. In the last days of the week, I had begun to feel afraid of my going to shopping. Does this fear not transform into bliss immediately after you return from shopping, he had said.

I remember that he had given an example of a boy who had fallen sick, had fever, and hence was to be given one injection on each Sunday. Naturally, as the Sunday would approach, he used to feel uneasy owing to the pain that the needle of injection was expected to cause. But on Sunday night, he used to feel relaxed that the bugaboo was over. According to him, life is made of such tides of pain and ebbs of contentment.

Have some courage. If you think that pain is the lacking element, then give some to yourself which shall surely make your life livelier than otherwise. That is what I am doing now. This periodic trouble that I give to myself at weekends is aimed to add the same liveliness to my usual hostel room life. The secret reason of popularity of tattooing also has the same psychological principle behind it; a pre-calculated pain to self replenishes the vitamins of life within a person. You may also find its mention in the text books of second year.

Otherwise, I do not come out of my usual hostel life for six days, you would have seen.’

So, this showed a bit of insight of what and how Joseph used to think. Not only he used to read psychology, but he also used to live it. Soon, they reached the top floor and then neared Joseph’s room. By habit, Joseph began searching the room’s key in his pockets and watched at and talked to the junior as he did so. Had he looked at the door he was facing, he would not have done so. The reason was simple; the door of his room was already wide open.

For a moment, he got confused, but he soon realized the reason of the door being open. Hence, before he entered his room, he had known that amongst the many others, Sohua would be present inside. Sohua and Johua were twins from Hong Kong and were undertaking master’s level study. Their rooms were adjacent to each other, not much far away from Joseph’s room. Joseph was very fond of them and had hence given them the duplicate key of his room. They both were the essential constituents or in other words, the essential ingredients of Joseph’s company. If they ever were not present in their rooms, the rule of thumb to find them was to enquire from the hostellers about where Joseph and his chat mates were bee hiving. After Joseph, the junior entered the room; the junior grinned as he could not find any place to keep the bags and finally placed them on the floor. Boys were almost all over the place, sprawling their bodies on chairs, table, bed, and floor. Surprisingly, the uniqueness in the looks and dress of Joseph vanished. Here, almost everyone had a bit of Joseph in looks and attitude; someone wore a similar pair of trousers while some other had a similar hair style. They all were the Oxfordians. The room was full to the capacity with them. Smokers had made a separate faction near the open window, whereas some others were lying like drunkards on the floor and some were even on the table. They all seemed to discuss their own subjects. They all were geniuses, it seemed, as were immersed in the high brow discussion that not many students, even of the Oxford could afford. Most of them gave references, one after the other, showing their proficiency and hold on their subjects.

Joseph was standing near the door, and even after noticing his presence, none amongst them cared to halt discussion and greet him.

The definition of mind as a block of wax by Plato … the Aristotle’s model of memory … the categorization of all odours in seven basic classes by Linnaeus in 1756 ... the first experimental Psychology Lab in Harvard by William James in 1875 ... the study of olfactory thresholds by Ohma in 1922 ... classical study of Allport and Postman in the year 1945 ... the study of daytime variation of olfactory thresholds by Godzl and Stone in 1947 ... the various definitions of memory by Adams, Robinson, and Gilbert in 1950 and later by Woodworth and Marquis in 1964, etc was all that still continued in the discussions. Joseph did not seem to mind himself being ignored in his own room. Even if he did, the pleasure of this ambiance in his room delighted him much greater than that. Sohua, of course quit his group to welcome Joseph because it was he to whom Joseph had handed over the duplicate key of his room to use it whenever he wanted.

Before the junior could go away, Joseph said, ‘Oh, wait for a while. I have something for you.’

He then took out a blue diary and handed it over to him, adding, ‘take a good look at this. It contains the statistical data about the psychological experiments that I was just talking about. But make sure that you return it soon. You see, I have to continue making notes in it.’

The junior took the diary, and Joseph joined the group of Sohua in discussion. The room seemed to be nothing less than a railway platform of a busy terminal where the waiting rooms were less, and so the passengers had to spend time on the floor. But this was the way Joseph loved it the most as he enjoyed it from the depth of his soul. Just like long term prisoners get used to seeing rats in their cells, his mind had also become accustomed to this hubbub in his room. Not giving any attention to how many others were in his room, he would often read, make notes, discuss, meditate, and even sometimes sleep comfortably, that too, no matter, on the floor if any other place was not vacant in this big room of the great Oxfordian.

Joseph had been in the same room since the time of his graduation. Earlier, he used to be in the habit of living a very secluded and scholarly life. It had been only a year ago that the company of Sohua and Johua had become the first exception to this seclusion.

Joseph seemed to be a person with many friends. Anyone who came to his room and spent most of his time there did so in the name of being his friend, but in reality, there was none amongst them who was cordially very close to him. Joseph actually was emotionally a recluse person who used to live in a dream world of his own imaginations and psychological theories and remained happy when left undisturbed in that state of mind. Undoubtedly, he was a cognoscente of the subject of psychology. He was the one who used to spend much time in effortlessly clearing the difficult doubts of students who used to come to him. Except the weekend shopping, he used to spend almost all his time in the room studying very hard as well as seeing the pastings of research paper cuttings and framed pictures of great psychologists and psychiatrists of the yesteryears. It seemed that even his mind also never used to come out of his room for the rest six days of the week, food breaks and evening walks being usually the only small exceptions to it.

Another reason behind his spending most of the time in his room was that students were supposed to do a lot of self study those days. Yet, one place that Joseph used to visit sometimes was the library. Only Sohua knew the reason why he went there as the same had been once told to him by Joseph. After spending days in underpants, knickers, and bermudas, the very day when he wanted to wear something smart, he would get arrayed in a coat, set right a crimson coloured big bow just beneath the Adam’s apple, and head towards the library. Reading, no matter, could have been done in the room also, and books for reading could have been issued from the library. But this used to be mainly a diversion for enjoying a small trip.

As per his desire, the next day saw him dressed exactly as per the occasion, of course, as there was only one coat and only one bow that he had as his uniform for this studious outing, as was heading towards the well varnished wooden bookshelves of the library.

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Pic: The library was gigantic; so were its wooden bookshelves in which the books were placed.

The library was gigantic; so were its wooden bookshelves in which the books were placed. He spent much time in firstly choosing a ladder, then in climbing that chosen ladder, then in reading the names of books that it led to, then in airily going through the contents of a selected one, then in placing it back to pick another, then in unclimbing the ladder, and next in choosing a new ladder for performing the same sequence of steps on it. This long lethargic drill came to halt when he reached a book which he found too interesting to be skimmed and glanced. It seemed that the moment of success of his endeavours had arrived. He delayed its return to the shelf and continued to go through its pages, one after one, still on top of the ladder. Masterminds like Joseph are also a bit psychotic. He offered a good entertainment show, that too, free of cost to those who were watching him and giggling. He kept standing there for quite some time, balancing the heavy book on his left wrist in a position to collect more and more light from the big window panes above the bookshelves. Later, on realizing his mistake, he came down and walked towards a reading table with diffidence. The book he had in his hand was lofty and had its name as Mystic India.

Joseph was a student with an endless stamina for studying and a never ending thirst for knowledge. This was lucid from the fact that he never used to spare even the topics of his juniors and used to keep fiddling with their syllabus books without expecting any sort of academic gain from them. He used to do so because he enjoyed gaining knowledge as well as refreshing the previous one. He was a voracious reader. Just as it is the nature of a cow to graze and a dog to lick bones, reading had ingrained deep in the psyche of Joseph. He could not even imagine himself without this diet of his mind. This however often used to appear to be abnormal for common students who usually kept running away from even their concerned subjects. But from a different perspective, he was absolutely normal; absolutely normal from the perspective of exceptional scholars like Robert, his senior collegemate, for example. Robert was Joseph’s friend whose Ph.D’s research field was different, but he still used to read books of psychology for a change.

After placing the heavy book on a reading table and sitting on the chair in front of it, Joseph began to turn its pages in search of an interesting topic. He started tapping his feet and patting the table top with his palm as fast as he read as this was his habit. He used to read extremely fast, but this time, something caught his attention, and he slowed down. The movements of his hands and feet also slowed; the movement of his eyes oscillating from left to the right also decelerated like a damped pendulum. He started reading the topic very slowly which was something he used to do very very seldom. He read the topic and then read it again. Then he closed the book, closed his eyes, and began to think. After some time, he left the book, got up, and silently walked out of the library, surprising everyone because he neither placed the book back on the shelf nor made his entry in the library register.

The thought about what he read did not leave his mind in the days that followed. He began to think obsessively about what he had read. Once again, he returned to the library and read the same book, then again, and then yet again many a times until one day, Robert took notice of him doing so.

Actually, the library used to be full of readers, and nobody ever seemed to be bothered about the person on the next chair over there. But Robert was a denizen of the library, slightly different from the usual readers, especially in observing the recent behavioural changes of Joseph. Realizing the importance of talking leisurely, he approached Joseph and offered him a coffee treat just as he had earlier done a number of times. Soon, the two friends were on their way to the canteen. After Robert fetched two cups of coffee, they headed for their favourite spot, the edge of an artificial waterfall in the adjoining garden where the external interference to their discussion was least expected.

Joseph was wiser than Robert had expected him to be. Before Robert could tactfully broach any question about the reason for Joseph’s concern with the book, Joseph began to say, dangling his paper cup of coffee, ‘I know what this treat is for. For several days, you have been noticing me coming to the library, picking up a definite book, and pondering upon it for hours. You know, I have never spent that much time on a single book; call it the grace of God, exceptional reading speed, good perception power, or whatever.

Actually, I found something in the book that has made me think obsessively about it. It relates somewhat to my subject, that is psychology. After I read it for the first time, I admired it, just like any other person would have normally admired it.’

‘Well, in a world where many people say that nothing is impossible, this is also not impossibility,’ Robert said. Then Joseph continued describing the contents of the book, ‘Yes. According to the book, there is an interesting anecdote about an incident that a king in India had once been through. The book has the mention of a king named Simuka. This king had once wanted to decapitate an aghori named Bhasm Shringar who used to meditate in cremation grounds situated on the outskirts of his empire. An aghori is a person who performs cannibalism on charred dead bodies, eats and drinks from human skulls, practises occult sciences, and does similar many other things in his abode, his abode being the cremation grounds where the pyres of Hindus are set on fire.

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Pic: The book has the mention of a king named Simuka. This king had once wanted to decapitate an aghori named Bhasm Shringar who used to meditate in cremation grounds situated on the outskirts of his empire.

The aghori had this name because he used to adorn his half naked body with the ashes of burnt dead bodies. Ashes are called bhasm, and adorn has its meaning as shringar in Hindi; hence his name was Bhasm Shringar - the one who adorns himself with the ashes of the dead. The king wanted to decapitate him because the fellowmen of his court whom he used to trust had given him false information that the aghori had been doing preparations for casting black magic spells upon him and his empire. What had happened was that on hearing so, the king had quickly picked up his sword, had taken a few soldiers with him, and had gone on a horse to behead the aghori. But the king had returned very soon and had given capital punishment to all the courtiers whom he had earlier trusted and on whose guidance had gone to kill the aghori. The explanation of his this action was written in the book in his own words. According to it, the king had started feeling the need to justify his action in the court to satisfy the colleagues of the punished courtiers. He had done this by saying that on seeing the aghori, he had found that the aghori hadn’t got any possessions or worldly desires. He had been living there very peacefully for decades. He had his name as Bhasm Shringar because of the ash that he used to spend most of his time with. There had been no reason for him to conspire against anyone. Such a person who had detached himself from the worldly activities had been more respectable to him than anyone else. Thus, the king had come back and had punished those courtiers who had jeopardised the aghori’s life. The king said that the presumable plan of the courtiers might have been to make him disrespectful towards aghori, the saint who then would have placed a spell on him and his empire. Therefore, according to the king, they themselves had deserved to be punished for their own spun conspiracy.

All had seemed to be satisfied with the king’s story. However, this was not actually all that had been going on in the mind of the king. The king had a minister named Parekh whom he used to talk about whatever he found inappropriate to talk about to anybody else. Undoubtedly, every word the king had said was true, but that had not been the complete story. The king had guilt in some corner of his heart which he wanted to confess to someone so as to lessen the burden of a sin on his soul. So, he told Parekh, his minister that his action was actually wrong as he had gone mentally weak to do what he had planned to do with the aghori. He however did not want others to know that he had the weakness in his heart while dealing with the judged ones.

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Pic: The king said that he had pulled back the blade of his sword in order to stretch it to the maximum so as to impart full force to it in order to decapitate the aghori. And that had been the very moment when he had gone wrong. He had thought that he had a sword in his hands, the soldiers by his side, and the aghori had nothing. However, this had not been true at that time.

The king elaborated the happenings of the cremation grounds to Parekh. He said that when he had reached the cremation grounds with the soldiers, he had got down from his horse and had pulled his sword from the sheath. The soldiers had followed him. The aghori had been meditating in the yogic posture of Padma Asana, sitting in the lotus position on a heap of ash; the king said that slight fumes had still been coming out of it. This heap of ash had been the burnt up chita, the pyre of logs of wood on which Hindus cremate dead bodies. The king said that unmoved by half burnt bones and skulls lying close to him, the aghori had remained absolutely calm and still, as if had expired in that very position. Being disturbed by the footsteps, he had gradually opened his big red eyes. The aghori had got up, facing the king fearlessly. He had been staring at the king as if warning him to get away from his sight. Seeing the king steadfast on his stand, he had picked up a fistful of ash from a pyre, had danced, had murmured some spells into it, and had thrown it upwards in the air, causing its flakes to spread in the air in the form of a mist. His actions had appeared frightening, as frightening as death, if personified, would have been. The aghori had then pointed his forefinger at the king.

There had been no question of the fearless king sparing his life. The king said that he had pulled back the blade of his sword in order to stretch it to the maximum so as to impart full force to it in order to decapitate the aghori. And that had been the very moment when he had gone wrong. He had thought that he had a sword in his hands, the soldiers by his side, and the aghori had nothing. However, this had not been true at that time. Keeping abreast of the happenings, the king said that before he could have swung his sword, the fragrance of ash had entered his nostrils. That was what the king remembered the last before his mind had changed.

Throughout his life, the king would have had the experience of the costliest of the perfumes but at that instant had realized how drastically his mind had changed at the slight fragrance coming out of the sprinkled mist-like ash. The change of mind of the king had not been because of a heavenly experience such as any visible angel coming and capturing him, he himself admitted; it had been because of the fantasy of this captivating smell. Soon, kindness and respect for the saint, the aghori had sprouted within him, and he had fallen in the feet of the aghori, asking for forgiveness. The soldiers also had followed him in doing so.

After narrating the whole incident, the king then mentioned the thought that gave him problem to think upon. He had an ideology that his sudden mind change had not been natural. To explain this, although very incompletely, the king postulated a small theory. According to this theory, the aghori had some spiritual powers under his control; spiritual powers, for example, the souls of dead people that he had collected and maintained with him in the cremation grounds he dwelled. These souls had invisibly, hence secretively done the job of controlling the king’s mind at the aghori’s command. These souls had been driven by ash mist to reach his nose as a fragrance and alter his thinking process was what the king thought.

Kings were not supposed to have a soft corner those days, for if they had one in their heart, then they would become weak, indecisive, and hence incapable to rule was what was prevalent. The weakness of heart to slay someone was a stigma that was undesirable to rulers of that time and that place. The loss of lives of courtiers was also not a small thing and meant a lot to the king. And all this had been the result of a momentary frailty of the king. The king had the guilt feeling that he had a weak mind which had got overpowered or hypnotised by these spiritual powers, and this had made him lose the lives of his courtiers.

For the Hindu kings of ancient India, their people were considered to be their children. So later, out of guilt conscience, the king relinquished the throne and went for exile, leaving the throne in the hands of his younger brother.’

Joseph had just finished saying when Robert said, ‘Do you believe in this nonsense, this superstition of spirits, their hypnotising a person and controlling his actions?’

Joseph said with a smile, ‘You are very right, my dear friend. I also believe that there is no superstition involved in this story. But after reading this book, a point has struck my mind.’

‘What point?’ Robert asked.

‘The king said that on the very moment when his heart had melted, he remembered smelling the fragrance of ash,’ Joseph said.

‘Yes, then what is the big deal in it?’ Robert asked.

‘In the study of human brain and its portions, we come to know that different portions of the brain control different functions. For example, the right side organs of the body are controlled by left side of the brain, and vice versa. Taste, smell, touch, etc also are all controlled by different portions,’ Joseph said.

‘Yes, I also know that,’ Robert said.

‘Now, the thing that I have studied is that some of these portions actually interact with their neighbouring portions. For example, the portion of brain that controls the emotions of a person is adjacent to the portion of brain that senses smell. Hence, it is inferred that the emotions of a person can be more easily triggered by subjecting him to correlated smells than by any other sense organ. You must have seen that whenever a person smells a fragrance which he had smelled a long time ago, the emotions of those times get activated. Similar is the case of sense of taste too. But this does not seem to happen with the sense of touch. Ha ha, you shall not become emotional if someone pricks you exactly as someone else does,’ Joseph said.

‘Look, I am not able to understand what you are trying to figure out,’ Robert said.

‘I am just trying to say that if you meet an old friend and talk to him about a time ten years ago, then he would dimly recall it, but if you make him smell a room which he used to smell ten years ago, then the concerned neurons of his brain shall get activated quite quickly and strongly, and he would recall that time very instantly, that too, very emotionally. This is a proven fact of psychology. The psychological explanation of this recalling phenomenon here is the fact that the part of brain that senses smells is situated adjacent to the part of brain that deals with old memories and their adjunct emotions. If the smelling part of brain is activated, then it also further activates the emotional part of it. In simple words, smells can influence the emotions of a person, and hence also the actions.’

‘Then what,’ Robert asked, and Joseph continued, ‘correlating this fact to the story that I told you, recall the entire story once again. The story of king Simuka seems to be a mythological one because it contains an element of disbelief for many. However, being a student of psychology, I have put forward an explanation for the happenings of this story. My theory is that the fragrance of hot ash, when inhaled by the king, altered his emotions, and the aghori had adequate knowledge to deliberately do so. He did not possess any superhuman power like mastery over spirits; he instead knew the trick to alter the actions of a person by altering his sense of smell. His preacher, i.e., his guru would probably have taught him this trick.’

‘But my dear, dear Joseph, what gains do you expect by going in the details of this story. It might be a mythological or else a real one; who cares? Why are you spending your precious time and energy on it?’

Joseph smiled and said, ‘I wish to present my Ph.D Thesis on the same story.’

Robert was dumbstruck as he heard him saying so. He said, ‘But I was beginning to form the opinion that Dr. Sarah wanted you to work on the pleasure pain concept of Aristotle.’

‘That indeed is a good theory to work upon, but this concept has now captivated my mind,’ Joseph said.

‘Had I been at your place, I wouldn’t have ever refused such an offer from Madam Sarah. You know, she was requested to judge the famous Albert Einstein Quiz, but she chose to face the confrontation of entire Oxford University Jewish Society and went to France to deliver her seminar on motivational concepts,’ Robert said.

Joseph disagreed, saying, ‘Dear Robert, I respect your views. However, I have other plans. I have learnt that some aspects of Hinduism are deeper than we can even think of. Research related to it might turn out to be far far more meaningful than that by Madam Sarah or any other person related to any other topic in the whole world, I feel. It had been wrong on the part of many amongst us who had gone to India in the past and had tried to judge Hinduism by just watching snake charmers, temple beggars, and street magicians. Had they gone a bit further in detail, they would have also seen common folks preventing their ailments, nipping the evil in the bud by consuming powders and extracts of plants using the basic concepts of ayurveda, curing yet a few others by making simple body postures in accordance to yoga, doing controlled breathing as per the techniques of pranayama, some more learned ones trying their hands on getting rid of their problems by just simple bending of fingers for some time, making mudras, that too, not only just rare and a limited number of people but almost everyone in almost in every household, employing them in day to day life and would surely also have noticed a few astrologers-cum-astronomers predicting accurate timings of sunrise, sunset, as well as starting and ending times of solar and lunar eclipses quite amazingly, that too, based on concepts and tables dating back to thousands of years ago.

In context of astronomical astrology, there is a sort of folktale which has been prevalent in India since ages. According to Hindus, Kaliyug, the Satan himself had descended in the city of Ujjain in India through the night sky on February 17th, 3102 b.c., at two thirty seven a.m. According to the ancient text of Surya Siddhanta, the book of astronomy of Hindus which gives this date and time, the planetary conditions were responsible for the incidence of Kaliyug, the one who continues to devastate precepts and life on earth in the present times; Venus, Jupiter, Moon, Saturn, Mars, Mercury, and Sun clustering quite close to each other in the sky at about half past two of night. Quite recently, when NASA put the data of this time and place in one of its computers, it confirmed that the planetary conditions of that time actually had been exactly the same as have been depicted in that ancient text. This book’s English translation is also available in the Cambridge from where a friend of mine had communicated some of its contents to me and from where I had come to know about the computer generated image of night sky of India of the abovementioned date. Joseph fetched a paper from his table drawer and forwarded it to Robert, saying, ‘You may also have a look at it.’

Robert saw the page with convinced eyes, as he giggled and said, ‘Ha ha, Hindus, Satan! Hmmm.’

Joseph continued, ‘Yes, Satan! A Hindu friend of mine once told me, in their religious books, they, the Aryans are often made aware of the origin, the dwelling places, and the prevention of this so called Satan named Kaliyug; some say, even his end time and situation too. That is why they sometimes call themselves Sanatan Hindus. Although the word Sanatan means something else in Hindi and Sanskrit, it can be interpreted in English as the ones who understand who a Satan is and hence in the present times know how to place a na in front of him, ha ha ha, just kidding.’

He added, as Robert continued listening with interest, ‘America’s high end technology of reaching the outer space in rockets of this time on one side and a few astrologers-cum-astronomers studying planetary motions on the other side, measuring time by units of breathing cycles of four seconds per breath, that too, sitting in remote Indian places definitely dating back to more than about five thousand years ago do not seem to have any comparison with each other. How could they have ever come to know about the planetary positions of that very night and many more such calculations mentioned in that book, we don’t know, how could they have come to know about the distance of every planet from the sun, we don’t know, how could they have come to know about the size of every planet, we don’t know, how could they have calculated even the length of shadow of every planet, we don’t know, how could they have come to know about the times of sunrise and sunset of each and every day till even the present day, we don’t know, how could they have come to know about the times of start and end of each eclipse, we don’t know; but one thing that we know is that even after many millenniums, their predicted times have never ever given a difference of even a fraction of second. To begin with such things mentioned earlier in such amazing texts and carry out one’s research is not a new thing, and that is what I am going to do now with the concept of sense of smell as my topic, as has been mentioned in the story of Bhasm Shringar, the aghori. I think it makes sense; a starting direction from an ancient tale of Mystic India, then a detailed literature search in some relevant topics, then some theory, and then maybe later, some experiments or similar in this regards, God knows.’

Joseph yet had a cluster of thoughts left unspoken in his heart, which he further let out through his lips, as he continued, ‘India, five thousand years ago! Was science enough advanced at that time? Well, I don’t think so! This inexplicable source of knowledge is a mystery; a mystery which points towards only one possibility; the possibility that it is actually the advanced science of extra terrestrial Gods of the Hindus. It is the sort of science whose only results have been communicated to them. It must be those Gods who reside somewhere else and keep coming to earth from time to time. I remember, some Hindus also know them by their place they come from, like Shani Dev from Saturn, Chandra Dev from Moon, and also even Surya Dev from the Sun. It is quite striking to learn that it had been around the same time in history, around three thousand b.c., when strange structures like the Stone-henge in England and the Giza Pyramids in Egypt had been built, both being constructed over human corpses, both having definite designs visible from the high skies, both having their directions pointing towards definite constellations and stars, both built by mammoth efforts, and yet both being otherwise quite useless and meaningless for the general people of that time. Who got them built and for what reasons, God knows. Had they been made because the extra terrestrial Gods indispensably then needed some directional identification marks to land their celestial planes on our planet?