Short Fiction UNFINISHED LETTER A Passionate Romance

UNFINISHED LETTER
Fiction Short Story – A Passionate Romance
By
VIKRAM KARVE

 

Here is a story from my archives... I wrote this "old fashioned" romance long long back...in the 1990s perhaps...Dear Reader, indulge me, please read it and do tell me if you like it...

Jayashree entered my life the moment I saw her photograph on Sanjay’s desk. 

And my life changed forever!

Till that moment, I had never wanted anything belonging to anyone else.

I stared transfixed at her photo, enthralled, totally captivated by her beauty.  

“Sir, this is Jayashree, my wife!” Sanjay said, getting up form the swivel chair.

He picked up the framed photograph and showed it to me.

I took her picture in my hand and looked intently at her, totally mesmerized.

What a stunning beauty! 

Never before had the mere sight of a woman aroused such strong passions, and a yearning desire in me to this extent.  

Sanjay was talking something, but it didn’t register.

I hastily said, “Cute!” for I believe that thoughts can transmit themselves if they are strong enough!  

I thought Sanjay seemed just a trifle taken aback, but he smiled, and pulled out a photo-album from the drawer. 

He began showing me the photographs and started describing his home, his family, his wedding, his honeymoon – the wonderful days they had spent together in Goa.  

I took the album from him and looked at a photograph of Jayashree in a bathing suit which was so revealing that she might as well have worn nothing, but she conveyed such innocence that it was obvious that she had no inkling of this.

She looked ravishing. Absolutely Breathtaking! Her exquisite body was boldly outlined under the flimsy fabric and she radiated a tantalizing sensuousness with such fervour that I could not take my eyes off her.

“Cute,” I instinctively and unthinkingly said again, and bit my lip; it was the wrong word, but Sanjay didn’t seem to mind; he didn’t even seem to be listening.  

Dear Reader, before I proceed further with my story, let me tell you something about myself. 

My name is Vijay. At the time of this story I was the Master of a merchant ship - an oil tanker. Sanjay was my Chief Officer – my number two! 

He had joined recently and it was our first sailing together. 

I had not met him earlier, but in due course he proved to be an excellent deputy. He was young, just thirty, he ran the ship efficiently and I liked him for his good qualities. 

But there was something in his eyes that I could not fathom. I shut my mind to it.

It’s extraordinary how close you can be to a man and still know nothing about him. 

Sometimes I wondered whether he was much more naïve or a lot more shrewd than I thought.  

“Captain, may I ask you a personal question?’ Sanjay asked me one evening, the first time we went ashore.  

“Sure,” I said.  

“Captain, I was wondering, why didn’t you get married so far?” Sanjay said with childlike candour. 

I sipped my drink and smiled, “I don’t really know. Maybe I am not marriage-material.”  

“You tried to get married, find someone?”  

“Yes.”  

“You loved someone?”  

I didn’t answer.  

And as I thought about it, I felt depressed. 

Life was passing me by. 

I looked around the restaurant. 

The atmosphere was gloomy-dark and quiet. It was late; almost midnight.  

Sanjay offered me a cigarette. 

His hands were unsteady. 

He seemed to be quite drunk. 

As we smoked, he lapsed into silence – his eyes closed. 

When he opened his eyes, I observed a strange metamorphosis in his expression. 

He looked crestfallen; close to tears.

Suddenly, he blurted out, “I wish I had never got married.”  

With those few words, Sanjay had bared the secret of his marriage.

As I attempted to smoothen my startled look into a grin, I was ashamed to find that, inwardly, I was glad to hear of his misfortune. 

I wondered how I could desire and yearn for Jayashree to this extent without ever having met her in flesh and blood, merely by seeing her photograph? 

But it is true; my heart ached whenever I thought of her.  

We sailed from Chennai port next morning, and headed for Singapore. 

It was the monsoon season and the sea was rough. 

As the voyage progressed, the weather swiftly deteriorated. 

The ship rolled and pitched feverishly, tossed about by the angry waves.

As we neared the Strait of Malacca, I began to experience a queer sensation - a strange foreboding. 

Though I was moulded in a profession where intellect habitually meets danger, I felt restless and apprehensive. I had felt and fought occasional fear before, but this was different – a premonition – a nameless type of fright; a strange feeling of dread and uneasiness.

I tried my best to dispel my fear, thrust away the strange feelings. But all my efforts failed. The nagging uneasiness persisted and soon took charge of me. 

It was so dark that I couldn’t even see our ship’s forecastle. The incessant rain and treacherous sea created an eerie atmosphere. I was close to panic as we negotiated the treacherous and hazardous waters of the Strait.  

As I stared into the pitch blackness which shrouded the hour moments before the breaking of dawn, a strange tocsin began sounding in my brain – a warning I could not fathom.

The ship was pitching violently. I felt sick with fear and stood gasping for air, clutching the telegraph. I had to get outside, into the fresh air, or I’d suffocate. 

As I groped my way along the rail in the bridge-wing, I heard a shrill voice behind me, “Don’t go away, Captain! Please stay. I can’t handle it alone. I can’t. Please, Sir. Don’t go!”  

I turned around. It was Sanjay. He looked at me beseechingly with terror and fright in his eyes.  

It penetrated to me in flash of revelation what I’d done. 

I had transmitted my own fear into my crew. Sanjay was the Chief Officer. For him, to confess in front of the crew, that he could not handle it, brought home to me the fact of how desperate he was.  

I had to take control at once.” You are not supposed to handle it as long as I’m around,” I shouted. “Go down to your cabin and catch up on your sleep. I don’t want passengers on the bridge. Get out from here.”  

The moment those words left my mouth, I instantly regretted what I had said; but it was too late now. Sanjay was close to tears, humiliated in front of the crew. He shamefacedly left the bridge and went down to his cabin.  

Suddenly, a searchlight was switched on, dead ahead. Instinctively I shouted an order to the quartermaster to swing the ship across the ship across to starboard. I crossed my fingers, desperately praying to avoid a collision. It was a near-miss, but the searchlight kept following our sheer to starboard. 

I was angry now. I stopped the engines, picked up the loudhailer, rushed out the bridge-wing, leaned over, and shouted, “You stupid fools. Are you crazy? What the hell do you think you are doing?”  

“We are in distress,” a voice answered. “Throw us a rope.”

I called the boatswain and told him to throw over the monkey-ladder. “Be careful, and report quickly,” I told him.  

Ten minutes must have passed but there was no report. The silence was disquieting, ominous. I decided to go to the deck. 

Before I could move, four men entered the bridge. They were wearing hoods. As I started at the nozzle of a carbine pointed at me, comprehensive dawned on me pretty fast. This was piracy on the high seas. 

Incredible, but true. I had never imagined it would happen to me. 

Undecided as to my next move, I stood there feeling far from heroic. There was no question of resistance. After all, this was a merchant ship, not a man-o’-war. Saving the lives of the crew was of paramount importance. The man pointing the carbine at me said softly, “Captain, we are taking over. Don’t try anything foolish. Tell the crew.”  

Suddenly, there was deep shuddering sound followed by a deafening roar. The ship rose on top of a steep quivering hill and slithered down its slope. There was a resounding thud followed by reverberating screeching vibrations. We had run aground.

Suddenly the ship lurched wildly, throwing everyone off-balance. Sanjay suddenly appeared out of nowhere, made a running dive and grabbed the carbine from the pirate. 

It happened too quickly, and so unexpectedly that I was totally dumbstruck. Everyone seemed to have opened fire. Bullets wildly straddled the bridge. 

There was pandemonium, as crew members joined the melee, grappling with the pirates. I hit the deck and froze.  

I don’t know who pulled me up, but by then everything was calm and quit. “The pirates have been overpowered,” said the boatswain, “but the Chief Officer ……….” 

I followed his gaze. 

Sanjay lay on the deck, in a pool of blood. 

I knelt down beside him.  

His face was vacant, but he tried to focus his eyes on me, whimpering, “Jayashree, Jayashree...” I shook him, he tried to get up, but slumped back – Sanjay was dead!

Six months later I knocked on a door. 

There was long wait. 

Then Jayashree opened the door. 

Her gorgeously stunning dazzling face took my breath away. 

She was even more beautiful than her photographs. 

Dressed in white sari, she looked so proud in her grief that I felt embarrassed. 

I had myself not yet recovered from the shock of Sanjay’s sudden death.  

I said, awkwardly, “I am Captain Vijay.”  

She looked directly into my eyes and said, “So I see.” Her dark eyes were hostile.  

“I am sorry about what happened. Sanjay was a brave man, and we are all proud to have known him.” My words sounded insincere and I felt acutely uncomfortable.  

“Proud!” she exclaimed, her magnificent eyes flashing. “Some people might feel grateful, especially those whose life he saved.”  

I was stunned by the sting of her bitterness.

Never had I felt such a burning shame; the shame of being held responsible for someone’s death.

I looked at Jayashree helplessly, pleading innocence, but it was of no use. 

It was hopeless now to try and explain. 

The hurt was deep, and I had to let it go in silence.  

Jayashree excused herself, turned and went inside. 

It was then that I remembered the real reason for my visit. 

I wanted to hand over what remained of Sanjay’s personal effects; an unfinished letter, a dairy, a framed photograph.  

I would first give Jayashree the unfinished letter. 

Once she read the letter - probably then she would understand the real reason for Sanjay’s reckless bravery, his suicidal heroics; his desperate concern about proving his masculinity.  

When Jayashree returned, she was composed. 

I gave her Sanjay’s unfinished letter. 

She took the letter in her dainty hands and started reading it.

As she silently read on, I saw tears well up in her eyes.  

I do not know whether I did the right thing by giving her Sanjay’s unfinished letter.

Probably it would have been wiser to destroy the letter and the diary – better to leave things unspoken and unhealed.

But I had thought it would be better to exorcise the sense of guilt and shame. 

Better for me. 

Better for Jayashree. 

Best for both of us. 

It was not easy, but we both had to come to terms with ourselves. 

Jayashree finished reading the letter and looked at me, her eyes cold. 

I looked at Jayashree, deep into her intoxicating eyes, and she looked into my eyes too. 

We looked into each other, transfixed, in silence, a deafening silence.

And suddenly Jayashree’s frozen eyes melted and she smiled. 

 

 

UNFINISHED LETTER

Fiction Short Story – A Passionate Romance
By  

VIKRAM KARVE

 

VIKRAM KARVE
Copyright © Vikram Karve 2010
Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

VIKRAM KARVE educated at IIT Delhi, ITBHU and The Lawrence School Lovedale, is an Electronics and Communications Engineer by profession, a Human Resource Manager and Trainer by occupation, a Teacher by vocation, a Creative Writer by inclination and a Foodie by passion. An avid blogger, he has written a number of fiction short stories and creative non-fiction articles in magazines and journals for many years before the advent of blogging. His delicious foodie blogs have been compiled in a book "Appetite for a Stroll". Vikram lives in Pune with his family and pet Doberman girl Sherry, with whom he takes long walks thinking creative thoughts.

Vikram Karve Creative Writing Blog - http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com/
Academic Journal Vikram Karve – http://karvediat.blogspot.com/
Professional Profile of Vikram Karve - http://www.linkedin.com/in/karve
Email: vikramkarve@sify.com
Foodie Book: Appetite for a Stroll http://books.sulekha.com/book/appetite-for-a-stroll/default.htm

© vikram karve., all rights reserved. 

 

MAHARSHI KARVE - Biographical Literature on his Life and Work.

Bharat Ratna Maharshi Dhondo Keshav Karve

Biographical Literature on the Story of his Life and Work.

[  Reviewed by VIKRAM KARVE  ]


In my own small way I wish to present a review of biographical literature on Maharshi Karve in order to enable readers, especially the students and alumni of educational institutions who owe their very genesis to Maharshi Karve like the SNDT University for Women Mumbai and the numerous and multifarious women’s schools and colleges under the aegis of the Maharshi Karve Stree Shikshan Samstha Pune get an insight into the life and work of this great social reformer whose ceaseless efforts played a cardinal role in transforming the destiny of the Indian woman.  

 

I have before me three books on Maharshi Dhondo Keshav Karve:

 

(i) His autobiography titled ‘Looking Back’ published in 1936.

 

(ii) Maharshi Karve by Ganesh L. Chandavarkar published in 1958 by Popular Prakashan Bombay (Mumbai)

 

(iii) Maharshi Karve – His 105 Years published on 18 April 1963 ( His 106th birth anniversary) by Hingne Stree Shiksan Samstha Poona (Pune) 

 

Allow me to tell you, Dear Reader, a bit about these books which describe the life and times of Maharshi Karve and tell us about the monumental pioneering work of one of the foremost social and educational reformers of India.

 

LOOKING BACK by Dhondo Keshav Karve - Autobiography

 

It would be apt to start with his autobiography – Looking Back, and let Maharshi Karve describe his life and work from his own point of view in his simple yet fascinating style.

I am placing below a Book Review of his autobiography (which I had reviewed a few years ago) for your perusal:

 

 

Book Review of 

The Autobiography of Maharshi Karve: 

“Looking Back” by  Dhondo Keshav Karve (1936)  

 

Dear Reader, you must be wondering why I am reviewing an autobiography written in 1936.

Well, sometime back, for six years of my life, I stayed in a magnificent building called Empress Court on Maharshi Karve Road in Mumbai.

I share the same surname [ Karve ] as the author.

Also, I happen to be the great grandson of Maharshi Dhondo Keshav Karve.

But, beyond that, compared to him I am a nobody – not even a pygmy.

 

Maharshi Karve clearly knew his goal, persisted ceaselessly throughout his life with missionary zeal and transformed the destiny of the Indian Woman.

The first university for women in India  -  The SNDT University and educational institutions for women covering the entire spectrum ranging from pre-primary schools to post-graduate, engineering, vocational and professional colleges bear eloquent testimony to his indomitable spirit, untiring perseverance and determined efforts.

 

In his preface, Frederick J Gould, renowned rationalist and lecturer on Ethics, writes that “the narrative is a parable of his career” – a most apt description of the autobiography. The author tells his life-story in a simple straightforward manner, with remarkable candour and humility; resulting in a narrative which is friendly, interesting and readable.

 

Autobiographies are sometimes voluminous tomes, but this a small book, 200 pages, and a very easy comfortable enjoyable read that makes it almost unputdownable.

Dr. Dhondo Keshav Karve writes a crisp, flowing narrative of his life, interspersed with his views and anecdotes, in simple, straightforward style which facilitates the reader to visualize through the author’s eyes the places, period, people and events pertaining to his life and times and the trials and tribulations he faced and struggled to conquer.

 

Dr. Dhondo Keshav Karve was born on 18th of April 1858. In the first few chapters he writes about Murud, his native place in Konkan, Maharashtra, his ancestry and his early life– the description is so vivid that you can clearly “see” through the author’s eye.

 

His struggle to appear in the public service examination (walking 110 miles in torrential rain and difficult terrain to Satara) and his shattering disappointment at not being allowed to appear for the examination (because “he looked too young”) make poignant reading.

 

“Many undreamt of things have happened in my life and given a different turn to my career” he writes, and then goes on to describe his high school and, later, college education at The Wilson College Bombay (Mumbai) narrating various incidents that convinced him of the role of destiny and serendipity in shaping his life and career as a teacher and then Professor of Mathematics.

 

He married at the age of fourteen but began his marital life at the age of twenty! This was the custom of those days. Let’s read the author’s own words on his domestic life: “… I was married at the age of fourteen and my wife was then eight. Her family lived very near to ours and we knew each other very well and had often played together. However after marriage we had to forget our old relation as playmates and to behave as strangers, often looking toward each other but never standing together to exchange words…. We had to communicate with each other through my sister…… My marital life began under the parental roof at Murud when I was twenty…” Their domestic bliss was short lived as his wife died after a few years leaving behind a son… “Thus ended the first part of my domestic life”… he concludes in crisp witty style.

 

An incident highlighting the plight of a widow left an indelible impression on him and germinated in him the idea of widow remarriage.

He married Godubai, who was widowed when she was only eight years old, was a sister of his friend Mr. Joshi, and now twenty three was studying at Pandita Ramabai’s Sharada Sadan as its first widow student.

 

Let’s read in the author’s own words how he asked for her hand in marriage to her father – “I told him…..I had made up my mind to marry a widow. He sat silent for a minute and then hinted that there was no need to go in search of such a bride”.

 

He describes in detail the ostracism he faced from some orthodox quarters and systematically enunciates his life work - his organization of the Widow Marriage Association, Hindu Widows Home, Mahila Vidyalaya, Nishkama Karma Math, and other institutions, culminating in the birth of the first Indian Women’s University (SNDT University).

 

The trials and tribulations he faced in his life-work of emancipation of education of women (widows in particular) and how he overcame them by his persistent steadfast endeavours and indomitable spirit makes illuminating reading and underlines the fact that Dr. DK Karve was no arm-chair social reformer but a person devoted to achieve his dreams on the ground in reality.

 

These chapters form the meat of the book and make compelling reading. His dedication and meticulousness is evident in the appendices where he has given date-wise details of his engagements and subscriptions down to the paisa for his educational institutions from various places he visited around the world to propagate their cause.

 

He then describes his world tour, at the ripe age of 71, to meet eminent educationists to propagate the cause of the Women’s University, his later domestic life and ends with a few of his views and ideas for posterity. At the end of the book, concluding his autobiography, he writes: “Here ends the story of my life. I hope this simple story will serve some useful purpose”.

 

Maharshi Dhondo Keshav Karve wrote this book in 1936. He lived on till the 9th of November 1962, achieving so much more on the way, and was conferred the honorary degree of Doctor of Letters ( D.Litt.) by the famous and prestigious Banaras Hindu University (BHU) in 1942, followed by University of Poona [Pune] in 1951, SNDT Women’s University in 1955, and the LL.D. by Bombay [Mumbai] University in 1957.

 

Maharshi Dhondo Keshav Karve received the Padma Vibhushan in 1955 and the India’s highest honour the “Bharat Ratna” in 1958, a fitting tribute on his centenary at the glorious age of 100.

 

It is an engrossing and illuminating autobiography, written in simple witty readable storytelling style, and it clearly brings out the mammoth contribution of Maharshi Karve and the trials and tribulations he faced.

 

Epilogue

 

I (the reviewer) was born in 1956, and have fleeting memories of Maharshi Karve, during our visits to Hingne Stree Sikshan Samstha in 1961-62, as a small boy of 5 or 6 can. My mother tells me that I featured in a Films Division documentary on him during his centenary celebrations in 1958 (I must have been barely two, maybe one and a half years old) and there is a photograph of him and his great grand children in which I feature.

It is from some old timers and other people and mainly from books that I learn of his pioneering work in transforming the destiny of the Indian Woman and I thought I should share this.

 

I have written this book review with the hope that some of us, particularly the students and alumni of Maharshi Karve Stree Shikshan Samstha ( MKSSS ), SNDT Women's University, Cummins College of Engineering for Women, SOFT, Karve Institute of Social Sciences and other educational institutions who owe their very genesis and existence to Maharshi Karve, are motivated to read about his stellar pioneering work and draw inspiration from his autobiography.

 

 

Reviews of two biographical books on Maharshi Karve

 

As I have mentioned earlier, two other good books pertaining to the life of Maharshi Karve which I have read are:

 

Maharshi Karve by Ganesh L. Chandavarkar, Popular Prakashan (1958)

 

And

 

Maharshi Karve – His 105 years, Hingne Stree Shikshan Samstha (1963).

 

 

 

The biography ‘Maharshi Karve by Ganesh L. Chandavarkar’ was commissioned and published by the Dr. DK Karve Centenary Celebrations Committee on 18th April 1958 the birth-centenary of Dr. DK Karve.

(Thousands attended the main function on 18th April 1958 at the Brabourne Stadium in Mumbai which was addressed by Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, the Prime Minister).

 

The author, GL Chandavarkar, then Principal of Ram Mohan English school, has extensively researched the life of Dr. DK Karve, by personal interaction with the great man himself, reminiscences of his Professors, colleagues and students, and his two writings Looking back and Atma-Vritta.

 

The author acknowledges with humility: “This is the story of the life of a simple man who has risen to greatness without being aware of it in the least. It is being told by one who can make no claim to being a writer” - and then he lucidly narrates the story of Maharshi Karve’s life in four parts comprising twenty four chapters in simple narrative style.

 

Part I, comprising eight chapters, covers the early life of Dhondo Keshav Karve, from his birth to the defining moment in his life - his remarriage to Godubai who was widowed at the age of eight, within three months of her marriage, even before she knew what it was to be a wife.

The first chapter vividly depicts the life and culture of Murud and Konkan in a brilliantly picturesque manner and is a fascinating read. The narrative then moves in a systematic manner encompassing the salient aspects of Maharshi Karve’s life till his birth centenary in 1958.

The biographer comprehensively cover Maharshi Karve’s marital and work life, but does not throw much light on his relationships with his four illustrious sons, who were well-known in their own respective fields of work.  

 

The author avoids pontification and writes in friendly storytelling style which makes the book very interesting and readable, making it suitable for the young and old alike.

I feel an epilogue covering the remaining years of his life would make the biography more complete.

 

There is a reference index at the end and I found this book to be quite a definitive biography which could serve as a source for knowledge and inspiration to readers interested in the life and work of Maharshi Karve.

The 233 page book was published by Popular Book Depot Mumbai in 1958 and I picked up a copy priced at rupees forty at the International Book Service at Deccan Gymkhana in Pune a few years ago.   

 

 

Maharshi Karve – His 105 Years, published on his 106th birth anniversary, is a pictorial album depicting the life and activities of Maharshi Karve.

In today’s parlance it may be called a ‘coffee table’ book, but it is a memorable reference book of lasting souvenir value which is a must for every library.

The chronologically arranged sketches, photographs and captions tell Maharshi Karve’s life-story in a seamless manner. There are photographs of historical, heritage and sentimental value highlighting important milestones in his life and work.

If you want to see my picture, turn to page 98 and have a look at the small boy holding Maharshi Karve’s hands and looking at the camera. I may have been just one and a half years old then and barely able to stand...!

 

This book is indeed a ‘collector’s item’ and was priced at a princely sum of rupees ten at the time of publication.

 

If you wish to learn more about Maharshi Karve and draw inspiration from his life and work, do read these three books. 

And please do let us know if you come across literature on the life and work of Maharshi Dhondo Keshav Karve. 

VIKRAM KARVE
Copyright © Vikram Karve 2010
Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

VIKRAM KARVE educated at IIT Delhi, ITBHU and The Lawrence School Lovedale, is an Electronics and Communications Engineer by profession, a Human Resource Manager and Trainer by occupation, a Teacher by vocation, a Creative Writer by inclination and a Foodie by passion. An avid blogger, he has written a number of fiction short stories and creative non-fiction articles in magazines and journals for many years before the advent of blogging. His delicious foodie blogs have been compiled in a book "Appetite for a Stroll". Vikram lives in Pune with his family and pet Doberman girl Sherry, with whom he takes long walks thinking creative thoughts.

Vikram Karve Creative Writing Blog - http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com/
Academic Journal Vikram Karve – http://karvediat.blogspot.com/
Professional Profile of Vikram Karve - http://www.linkedin.com/in/karve
Email: vikramkarve@sify.com
Foodie Book: Appetite for a Stroll http://books.sulekha.com/book/appetite-for-a-stroll/default.htm

© vikram karve., all rights reserved. 

 

MEDITATION and THE MYSTICAL CAT

MEDITATION and THE MYSTICAL CAT 

A Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE

A ritual is an action performed purely for symbolic value. In most cases there is no logic or rational explanation for rituals. This apocryphal story from ancient wisdom illustrates how rituals start and are followed blindly for years...

A seeker joined a monastery to learn meditation and the art of living. 

Every evening all students and disciples assembled in the large meditation hall for a discourse by the Spiritual Guru followed by group meditation.

Just before the meditation session commenced the disciples would catch a cat, tie it up and place it on the lap of the Spiritual Guru, who would then start caressing the cat and begin the discourse and meditation session. After the event was over, the cat would be untied and set free.

This was the established daily ritual and the Guru would start the meditation session only after the tied up cat was placed on his lap, so much so that once when the cat could not be found, the meditation session was delayed and all the seekers launched a desperate hunt till they found the cat which was duly tied up and placed on the Guru’s lap and only then did he start his discourse-cum-meditation session.

The seeker was quite perplexed at the mystery of the tied up cat and the significance of this ritual – it’s correlation with meditation.

He asked around but no one knew the answer till someone told him to ask a wise old man who lived in a cave up the hills, so our curious seeker trudged up the hills to meet the wise old man and ask him the significance of this time-honoured ritual.

“It is like this,” the wise old man said, “many years ago, when the then Spiritual Guru and his disciples began their evening meditation, the cat that lived in the monastery made such noise that it distracted them. So the Guru ordered that the cat be tied up during the evening discourse-cum-meditation practice. This practice continued, so much so that even when the teacher died, the next Guru continued this tradition and a cat continued to be tied up during the meditation session.

When the cat died, another cat was brought to the monastery to be tied up during the evening meditation session, and when it too died they brought another, and with the passage of time this has become such an established ritual that now no one dare start the meditation session without the tied up cat.

Years later, the ritual of tying up the cat during the meditation session continued, and our seeker, who by then had become the Spiritual Guru, wrote a scholarly treatise about the significance of tying up a cat for meditation practice.




So, Dear Reader, if you see any ritual, custom or tradition for which there seems to be no rational or logical explanation, remember this story of the Mystical Cat...

VIKRAM KARVE
Copyright © Vikram Karve 2010
Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

VIKRAM KARVE educated at IIT Delhi, ITBHU and The Lawrence School Lovedale, is an Electronics and Communications Engineer by profession, a Human Resource Manager and Trainer by occupation, a Teacher by vocation, a Creative Writer by inclination and a Foodie by passion. An avid blogger, he has written a number of fiction short stories and creative non-fiction articles in magazines and journals for many years before the advent of blogging. His delicious foodie blogs have been compiled in a book "Appetite for a Stroll". Vikram lives in Pune with his family and pet Doberman girl Sherry, with whom he takes long walks thinking creative thoughts.

Vikram Karve Creative Writing Blog - http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com/
Academic Journal Vikram Karve – http://karvediat.blogspot.com/
Professional Profile of Vikram Karve - http://www.linkedin.com/in/karve
Email: vikramkarve@sify.com
Foodie Book: Appetite for a Stroll http://books.sulekha.com/book/appetite-for-a-stroll/default.htm

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.