The Silence Behind Noise

By Sanjay K. Verma

Life is full of stress, now-a-days. It is swinging between sorrow and pleasure. Sometimes it is full of fun & frolic and most of times it is of anxiety. Everybody is worried: students, homemakers, working people, businessmen, and so on, due to various reasons; thus engaged in number of activities in order to escape pain. Whether the activities are giving us permanent relief? How can we overcome? Is there any tailor-made system for the way out from this jail of life?
This book gives every support in such situation. It focuses on the basic cause of stress.
This book is full of life tuitions which guides to understand your false self and once false self is understood, eternity comes in. Words can only describe, but a thing which is beyond description needs different dimension.
This book explains, unless we cross the river of false self, which is our ego mode operation of mind, we can't meet the true self. For this, we need to understand the mind and its border line. This observation brings new facet and you can see the seer & the scene.
Aim of the book – The Silence Behind Noise – is to spread the message of truth and help mankind in attaining inner peace, thereby making world a place of nonviolence.
The language of the book has been kept simple and easy-to-understand.
A must-read book for everyone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diamond Books
• Release date: Dec 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9788128822704

Book preview

Part I - Life

Unfolding of life brought fun and sorrow, Sunil wanted to get out of this net. Mind, for the first time saw itself. The desire and one who desires were observed.

Regrets

Hi, I am Sunil.

I am 45, and neither my health is good nor the mind. Earnings are below average. I earn as much a boy with two years of experience earns. Reason is simple: God did not give me appearance by which I can impress anyone, qualifications are okay but the marks scored are third class. Have honesty syndrome which does not work now-a-days. You have to be a manipulator to move ahead.

My parents did not have any workable jack. Relatives were all at the receiving end. They used to demoralize instead of rendering help. I heard many stories regarding luck or destiny; how destiny favored people and made them rich, but in my case I never had any luck. What went wrong with me I did not know?

My childhood friends who were living in one or two room flats are all now in, at least, two bed rooms or higher whereas we are still maintaining our heritage and are in a two room flat, simply struggling not actually living.

According to me, I blamed my father for all this, he did not have enough common sense and lived a meaningless life. Most of his decisions lacked maturity; they were not decisions but destructions.

I still remember when I passed class X from a premium school. I had to take admission in class XI and for that a merit list was prepared by the School. Unfortunately, my name was not in that list. My father told me to join some other school. I honored his decision. After five days my friends informed me that the second list is out with second cutout list and my name was well there. When I brought this to my father’s attention, he told ‘no need to take admission in current school as I have already paid fees for the new school’. But, in my view, my present school was much inferior in comparison to the school where I was studying.

Later, when I passed class XII, I wanted to pursue my career in film and television but my father wanted me to do engineering and do some government job. I had no option except to honor his decision as I did not have the courage to go against him. After few days, one of my father’s friends came to our house and told my father that he got his son admitted in engineering college in Maharashtra and few seats were still lying vacant. My father was so much impressed that very next day he went to Maharashtra and got me admitted in engineering. He took heavy loan on very high interest in order to pay the fees.

According to my wife, getting married to me was a wrong decision as I have not been able to provide her with basic amenities in life. She feels she is struggling day in and out and it’s my failure. The life of a middle class person is spent in struggling with daily hassles and surviving with little means. Though after two decades of marriage she has lost all hopes but my sons demand that I take them to Dubai or Singapore during vacations, purchasing branded cloths and having latest electronic gadgets and playing station. I do listen to their routine communication which revolves around how their friends spend money and what their precious possessions are; and wonder to myself if I can ever convince them about the importance of materialistic pleasures vis-a-vis moral duties and peace in life. My ideas though appear to be an escape route from my inability of earning money up to their expectations. I have them with their discussions and predicaments and concentrate on office assignments.

There is so much traffic in the city but we are still struggling to buy a car. Ours is the only house in entire row that does not have a car. My entire life had been spent on scooter. My children and wife have been fighting for past three years to buy a car, but due to lack of sufficient earnings and rising inflation I am not able to fulfill their demand. Daily there is a discussion on this but what can I do when my earnings are meager and there are no savings. I don’t want to buy car on loan. It is against my conscience. Reason is simple: when I was young I saw my father taking loans and in return he had to pay hefty amount as interest and used to face lot of tension and harassment. From those days only I was convinced that I will never take a single penny as loan from bank or any other financial institution. Loan means gone. Also, I know myself if I take loan, I will not be able to sleep properly.

There was a time when there were no mobiles. There used to be only landline telephones. Then came pager followed by mobile phones. The technology has advanced so much that world has become a global village. The place of letters and telegrams has been taken by mobile phones. The results of class X and XII board examinations were announced in newspapers and children used to throng schools to see their individual results. But these days, the result is available on mobiles. If you want to know the train arrival and departure schedule, the same is in your hand, just a click away. Technology has added a tool to our kitty which is almost indispensable now. Thus, I purchased one and learned from my children to operate it. Despite having no specific fondness for such devices, it was the call of the time and pressure of family and I had once again succumbed to it.

Agitation

I feel agitated even on little physical activity. Equation is: work is directly proportional to anger. The more the work, the more is the anger. Body is unable to withstand little stress and same is with mind. When there is no work and I am free, everything is fine but with work, mind becomes agitated and the good feelings turn into bad feelings. No work makes me happy. Mind demands peace, stillness and free time. Suppose I am sitting idle with no physical and mental work, everything is well, feelings are also very soothing but with work all my values get vanished and I turn into an angry man. Frankly speaking, I have never enjoyed any work. In office, the work I do is for the sake of money and there is no job in which I can get money for free. I need money to meet the daily expenses. At times I wonder, the rich people who have wealth measuring in billions, still work. Months together they stay away from their families due to work. Why don’t they just keep themselves satisfied and enjoy the billions which they have earned and live in peace? Why they have so much thirst for work? If someone gives me one billion rupees I will never think of working. I will invest in land, give my flats on rent and enjoy my life forever. There is a gap in my understanding of their philosophy behind hard work.

I feel agitated whenever I fall ill. The doctor says that since the climate is changing there is viral infection. This is their standard reply. Every two months climate keeps changing. Majority of doctors have also become commercial. They pay attention to money rather than the patient. Moreover, this junk food is also responsible for raising health problems among kids and young children. Every child today likes chips, burgers, pizzas etc. and all these are not good for health. It has come from western culture to India. Children dislike fruits. I remember in my childhood, during winters when we used to have radish or vegetable salad my mom would put lemon with sparking chaat masala (a mix of hot and tangy spices), and it tasted like anything. Still when I recollect those memories my mouth gets filled with water. Actually if you see from children side, there is no taste left in fruits and vegetables as they are not being grown in fresh water and organic manure. Moreover, before being fully ripe these are sent to market for sale. This commercialization of fruits and vegetables business has killed their original taste and aroma.

You go to any good private hospital for treatment and they charge hefty amount, whereas if you go to any govt. hospital then one has to face long queues.

Whenever I compare the old days with the present, I see something is missing. I miss all the dishes which were prepared by my grandmother, and the smell, the taste, the aroma also. I miss the love, affection, and the bonding in the family and the humbleness, respect, humility, sacrifices, and kindness in the society. People loved and helped each other. Aspirations of people were small. They believed in simple living and high thinking. Values were honored. Society was God fearing with rich culture and traditions. In neighborhood everyone knew each other. People were satisfied, everyone was be easy to meet, not busy like now-a-days.

Yesterday only, one of my old school friends called me after a gap of 30 years. I was surprised how he got my number and we talked about for around one hour. In between my wife kept making faces and raising eyebrows. When I speak with someone over the phone, she starts making comments and weird postures from back side. She does not like if I speak to someone nor she likes if I speak to her as well. She dislikes everything which I like. You see at times you like to discuss things with your friends with whom you shared your childhood. Now what I have planned with my childhood friends is that we all should meet twice or thrice a year at a place where we can comfortably sit, talk and share our feelings. What we feel about ourselves, society, changes, nation, life or anything, which comes to our mind.

Childhood

It was the best time of my life. Parents, grandparents, relatives, neighbours, and strangers everybody loved me. World looked big through the small eyes. In Delhi where I spent my childhood I still remember the house where we used to live, the park where we used to play and the school where I studied. Everything is in my memory and when I turn back and look they seem to be an activity of yesterday. Where have all these days gone? Time flew away quite fast leaving behind sweet memories. Now, I cannot share these memories with others as everybody is busy in their mundane affairs; who will listen to them? Sometimes I try to share these with my children and wife which they reluctantly hear, just for my sake.

When I was a child, my grandfather loved me the most. He was a farmer and during summer and winter holidays my parents would take me to the village where he lived. Morning to evening I would just keep following and talking to him wherever he would go. During summers he would take me to the Mango orchard and would pluck the best ripe mangoes for me which I relished the most. Then he would take me to the river where I would hold him by my small tender hands and try to swim with him, we would spend more than an hour in the waters. While returning he would keep a cloth on my head so that I did not get sun stroke. After walking for a kilometer, he would give me few pieces of chopped raw mangoes with salt so that I didn’t catch heat waves.

On the way to home there was an old well from where he drew out cold water and I still remember the taste of that water. That time there were no ice cream available in villages but a person used to come with barf (crushed ice mixed with milk and sugar). He used to serve in a bowl on Banyan tree leaf, 10 paisa per bowl. I would run after him as I saw him. Sometimes when my grandfather used to be not around and the barf person came, that time I would take wheat grains as I did not have 10 paisa which he would weigh @ 20 paisa per kilogram and would give me the barf.

During winters my grandfather would take me to sugarcane field and would pluck the most juicy and soft sugarcane for me whose outer cover I would try to peel off with my tiny teeth as he believed this strengthens the teeth and when I would fail, my grandfather would peel off the outer cover and give it to me to chew. Next day he would take me to the place where sugarcanes were cleaned and put into the crusher. On one side sugarcane juice flows and other side wood pulp falls out of the crusher. The sugarcane juice used to be collected in a big vessel made of concrete and the wood pulp was spread in the sun to dry. The sugarcane juice would be boiled in a big container till it became semi liquid. My grandfather would put peanuts in hot brown semi liquid and put in a flat concrete plate to cool down. After cooling he would give me the peanut jaggery which I enjoyed eating in those severe winters.

In Delhi, while going to sleep at night my father would narrate some story. Many times the characters of those stories would appear in my dreams. If by some negative character I used to get frightened then in that semi sleepy state I would hold him tightly by my small hands. Now, he is no more but few of his stories I still remember as they were often repeated. During the day, I would occasionally go to my neighbor’s door and press the door bell and then would run away. In evening I would get few slaps from my father for that after getting complaint from the neighbors but on the next day I would repeat the same. I don’t know what I got out of that, but those days I enjoyed doing the act. I would be thrashed by my father a bit more but I would settle the score by leaving my cat in the neighbor’s house that would come back after drinking their milk. Next day the complaint would double; this time it would be again me alongwith the cat.

Every day used to be a day of fun and frolics. Now, they are just personal memories which will die with me. Majority of people who were of my father’s age or older age are no more, but in memory I still remember their faces and voices. A day will come when even we will not be there and this is how the life cycle moves. Life is temporary; in short time we get attached to people and after some time they live in our memory. What the fate we met, next generation will also meet the same, it is just a matter of time. People will come and go but their childhood will be remained.

Teenage

When I was fourteen I was in class IX. The only topic those days was of ‘girls’ among boys and ‘boys’ among girls. Two girls were beautiful in comparison to others and were most talked about. Every boy wanted to talk to them and it looked as if they were girl friend of almost all the boys. In the classroom also most of boys kept looking at them. Those two girls would like all the boys who kept running after them. Attraction was in air only, studies were getting affected. Boys sometimes would behave as if they were adult. They would talk about the latest Bollywood movie released on Friday. Many would claim they had seen the movie although most of them had only heard the story from someone who actually had seen the movie. Girls at the last page of notebook would write ‘I adore Rahul’ or ‘I adore Rajeev’ and then show that to other girls and would laugh. This laugh would create curiosity among boys and few boys would open the last page and show to other boys when the girls were not around.

When the teacher taught in class room I would imagine myself walking in the woods and looking for colorful birds. How I would catch them and keep at my home. Next moment the mind would go towards my pets – a dog and a cat that time. What they would be doing now? Did they drink milk? Were they hungry? Suddenly a chalk hit me and teacher asked a question, ‘Where are you Sunil? Pay attention to class, stop day dreaming’. Entire class would laugh and would make fun of me. I would also enjoy the same fun when it was done with someone else. Those days most of the teenagers would day dream. They would sit in class physically only but mentally would be singing some latest song or thinking about opposite sex. Summer days used to be very tiring after the recess. Last two periods were a torture and I had to struggle myself to keep awake. Suddenly with the slap of the teacher, chatak! I would again wake up.

Next year we were promoted to class X. The new class teacher apprised us that ‘class X is the most important class in life. Your marks (that time it was marks not grades) scored in class X will be counted everywhere thus you have no option except to work hard’. Many other teachers also repeated the same lecture in different styles. It was a kind of induction program to make us ready for the battle. Everyone was scared, and day and night everybody started studying hard, in spite of opposite sex attraction. Occasionally boys used to talk to girls and vice versa on pretext of exchanging important notes but everyone was too concerned. If we could not get good marks then we might have to commit suicide. We became like a shuttle cock; on one side school teachers and other side parents. Soon, the time came for the battle; there was worry in the air, everybody was anxious. Datesheet for exams was announced and there was curfew like atmosphere at home as it was also the exam of parents’ pride. Bread and vegetables were replaced by dry fruits, especially almonds, as they would sharpen the memory. Finally exams were over and we started waiting for results.

It was the dawn of sweet sixteen, we entered class XI. Everyone was confused whether to take Arts, Commerce or Science subjects. I wanted Arts as it was my liking and also majority of girls opted for it. When I expressed this to my parents they went under trauma. Day and night I had to face psychological lectures that ‘without Science Subjects there is no future, All other streams are useless as they would destroy my life’. Finally seeing the condition of my parents and repeated requests I had no option except to take Science which actually I never liked. I started sitting in the Science class. Soon the result of class X was announced and I managed to score 70% although my parents announced to all the neighbors that I had scored 80%. XI was very tough and my scores started falling. Majority were facing similar problem. As time passed through, we were promoted to class XII.

It was the most sensitive year, we lost track of everything. It was a year of studies and studies; nothing else. There was a lot of pressure from parents, society and school that ‘If we do not score good, we cannot get admission in good college’. This was the major concern of everybody. Boys and girls were very busy in their studies. They were interacting very minimal with each other. Everyone was very serious, parents’ pride and name were riding on our shoulders thus majority joined coaching classes apart from our regular classes. Everyone was putting in extra effort; all became ascetic, the only aim was to score the best marks. Home had become a meditation centre with pin drop silence. My father would not allow any relative to visit us during that year. All summer and winter holidays we went nowhere and utilized that time for studies. At last XII exams were finished off, and it was then time to look for some good career options.

College Days

Those days were different from school days, and I knew no one in