Vrindavan Thief

A tour or trip or even a jaunt always refreshes me. If I am compared with a mobile phone, then I must say that a sojourn of even 3 days can recharge my battery fully. Unfortunately in the last 7 years, due to excessive work pressure, I have not been able to go for a long tour. But before that, I had travelled across the length and breadth of the country with my tour-crazy relatives (who have been continuing  their journey twice a year). Temple towns are not my favourite destinations, as I am not a religious  person. I love jungle tours. But there are some interesting stories associated with my  visits to temple towns, which I would like to share with you.

The most interesting part of our tour happened in Vrindavan when we went for a 15-day trip to UP in 2003. Our stomachs were heavy with the samosas and kachauris that we had in breakfast in Mathura. Before we got down from car in Vrindavan, we were discussing about the obnoxious presence of the Shahi Eidgah Mosque in Krishna janmbhumi, a holy place for Hindus. Jishumama, my distant maternal uncle, did not keep secret about his strong inclination to the BJP style of politics.

He said, "Aurangzeb must have been a psychopath, else why would he destroy one of the holiest sites of Hindus and build an ugly mosque?"

Jishumama is neither well-educated nor a sophisticated guy. He said whatever came to his mind. No one in our team, however, protested against his observation.

We fixed a guide after a harrowing bargain. Actually, Jishumama was the most miser person in our group. It was true that his yearly income was the lowest among us, but that didn’t tell the entire story. Bargaining was his nature. He could not buy even a banana without bargaining. My own maternal uncle Tokamama was also a miser and fond of bargaining, but he was nothing in comparison with Jishumama. None of my parents are miser. Nor am I. But most of the time, Jishumama took control of things, and we had no other option but to watch his bargaining art. In this particular case, the guide wanted Rs 300, but he had to settle for Rs 100 due to Jishumama’s bargaining skills.

First, the guide took us to Nidhivan. He said only one or two lines about the significance of the place. Jishumama’s wife Latamami, who is 15 years younger than him, was a  very good friend of mine. She winked at me as if to say, "What else do you get from a guide of Rs 100!?"

Since the main character of this episode is my mother, a few lines should be told about her. She is obsessed with gossiping, be it at home or outside. Instead of focusing on the new places that we were visiting, she always gossiped with Brindamami, wife of Tokamama.

“Why do you come to a tour, if you are interested in only gossiping? You can do that in your home”,  flabbergasted father told this to mother at least hundred times.

The guide instructed us to go and enjoy the place, while he would wait outside. As usual, my mother was gossiping with Brindamami. I could hear that they were planning about shopping big in  New Delhi tomorrow.

Brindamami asked, "Will jamaibabu (my father ) bear so much of cost?"

My mother replied, "That stingy man? No way! I have saved throughout the year. All is here." She showed her handbag.

"Why do you carry all the money with you?" - Bridamami

"What else should I do? If I give it your jamaibabu, he would never return it to me", Mother quipped.

My father and my two mamas were walking in the front row, I and Latamami were in the middle line, while mother and Bridamami were in the last row. There were about 5 meter of gaps between every row. We were walking leisurely trying to savour the religious significance of the holy place.

Suddenly, we heard mother shouting, "Help, help! He has stolen my moneybag! Somebody get him."

Who had taken my mother’s moneybag? Being alarmed by her shouting, we frantically tried to find the thief. But we could not see anyone running with a moneybag.

Disappointed, I enquired, Where is the burglar? I cannot see anyone."

Mother burst in anger, "Look there, you idiot, there he goes. If you cannot get him now, he will vanish from the roof. Lots of money in the bag!"

When we looked at the direction of her pointed fingers, we were shocked to see a big langur (not an ordinary monkey) standing on the roof of a nearby building gleefully trying to tear the handbag.

"You callous lady! How did you lose it?", father asked furiously.

"He snatched it from my hand. This not the time to answer your stupid queries. Go get him." Mother was equally furious. She had lost her entire savings of the year.

We were confused. We did not how to react. In my childhood, I had climbed a lot of trees. Climbing the house wouldn’t have posed a big problem for me, had I not worn the tight full pant. Also, would the lagur stay, if I go on the roof? Would he negotiate with me face to face? Father was lambasting mother for her callousness. Mother was helplessly watching the langur almost succeeding in tearing the leather apart. While we were hopelessly contemplating about our future course of action, we did not notice that Jishumama had vanished somewhere. He came back with a couple of packets of biscuits.

He said, "Let’s negotiate with him. Come on Hanuman. Take biscuits and throw the handbag back."  Jishumama threw a few biscuits on the roof. The big bander left the bag and gobbled up the biscuits in seconds. Within no time he finished the biscuits without honouring the contract. Tokamama brought two more packets, but the monkey kept dishonouring the contract. Once the ploy failed, he again concentrated on the bag. Obviously, he thought there was some food inside it, which he frantically tried to find.

Latamami suddenly shouted, "Hey monkey, look here." The langur responded to the call. Looking angrily at Latamami, he showed all his teeth, as if to say, " I am not a monkey. I am a big Hanuman."

 Latamami took the purse from Jishumama. She took it in her hand and raised the hand over her head. By then I understood that she was trying to follow the children’s story where a monkey stole all the hats of hawker. Despite the hawker’s all kinds of efforts, the monkey didn’t return the hats. But as monkeys love to copy, he tried a new trick. He threw his own hat on ground. Copying the hawker, the monkey threw them back on ground. We all hoped for the success of the trick. Latamami threw back the purse on ground. But to our utter disappointment we found the langur to be nonchalant. Even at that tensed moment, Tokamama commented, “It looks like the monkey hasn’t read the fable.” The langur concentrated on the job at hand. And boy, he tore the leather apart. We saw a lot of 500 rupees notes flying in air. The nasty bander was piercing the notes with his sharp teeth and nails. Also, a very strong wind was blowing at that moment drifting the notes away to various unreachable directions.

I could not care for my pant any more. Quickly, I removed my leather shoes and socks, and climbed up a few walls to reach the roof. By that time the lagur got frustrated, as he found there was no food in the bag. He was probably an Alpha male: big, bad and aggressive. I appeared on the scene at a very wrong time. He did not like my intrusion to his territory. He aggressively confronted me. He was going to jump on me. I didn’t know what to do. But thanks to Jishumama, again, a very awkward situation could be averted. He called the bander and threw another packet of biscuits to him. While he ate the biscuits  10 ft away from me, I quickly focused on the notes. I could find only 3 Rs 500 notes and 2 Rs 100 notes. Other notes were either blown away or damaged.

I shall write about two  more personal experiences of mine. When I visited the Chandaneswar temple in Odisha last year, I found it heartening to know that I had to pay money only once at the gate to the temple committee, and there would be no pressure from pandas inside. I offered Rs two hundred. A priest (panda) took us near the deity, and started the puja. So far so good! But at the end of worshipping, there came the twist. The priest was that far chanting the mantras in Sanskrit,  but suddenly he shifted to Odia and asked me to repeat whatever he said.

He told me this would be some kind of promise made to God. Unsuspecting any hoodwink , I repeated whatever he said. As you know, Odia language has some proximity with Bengali, I almost understood what he was saying. In the last line he said that I would offer Rs 500 to God. Boy! And he demanded it.

Personally, I have no faith in idol worshipping. But my wife is a red bindi-sporting, 4-times-deity-worshipping devout Hindu, and at home she is the boss.  So, I had no other option but to shell out some money. However, I bargained that since I had by that time offered Rs 200, I wouldn’t give him more than Rs 300. I was happy noticing that he didn’t argue on this point. But, within seconds he appealed that since this money would go to the mandir committee,  he needed some money for himself. So, my purse became lighter by Rs 100. At that point, I thought  it was over. So, I went to click some photographs.  A big black ox interested me. After 10 minutes or so when I met my family outside,  my wife told me that a couple of other priests took more money from her by offering some charanamritas.

The second incident occurred a few years ago, and it was of more serious nature. At that time I was not married,  and we used to move in a large group, comprising 3 different families. As I said earlier, one of my distant maternal uncle, Jishumama, was notorious for his stinginess. And the Jagannath temple was not the best place for misers. We had to offer money to so many priests. But that guy was not offering money anywhere. He was simply nonchalant.  The priests understood that he was a tough nut to crack. So they targeted his wife, Latamami. One of them told her that it would be extremely beneficial for her if she offered money to the God. She would fulfil her unsuccessful desires. She told Jishumama to give some money to her so that she can offer. But Jishumama looked at her with such contempt as if she had demanded a pound of flesh from him.

The priest was also a tough guy. Watching that his carrot approach was not working, he began to emotionally blackmail her. Like a crescendo he started with mild cursing which slowly increased in intensity. But, Jishumama was stoic. When the priest observed that none of his tricks worked, he used his last weapon: an atom bomb. He said if she did not offer money, very soon she would become a widow.

I thought that would be it. Jishumama  would have to buckle under pressure this time. But to my utter surprise, he completely ignored the curse despite Latamami’s earnest requests. By the way, 10 years have passed since then, and Jishumama is still alive hale and healthy.

Pictures taken from net