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Journey's End

Journey's End

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Published by Subroto Mukerji
The Fates laugh as a man and woman clash in a wordy duel, only to fall desperately in love with each other.. in TWO successive lifetimes. Will the second time around prove lucky for the starcrossed lovers?
The Fates laugh as a man and woman clash in a wordy duel, only to fall desperately in love with each other.. in TWO successive lifetimes. Will the second time around prove lucky for the starcrossed lovers?

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Published by: Subroto Mukerji on Aug 23, 2010
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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 Journey’s End
Ananto Mozumdar knew he’d bought those 20-year governmentbonds, way back in 1984, but for the life of him he couldn’t rememberwhere he’d kept them. The demand notice for the last ballooninstallment for the poky little third floor DDA flat had arrived, and hedidn’t have enough in his bank account to meet it. He simply
tofind those bonds! The last date of payment was only a fortnight away.So he reverted to daydreaming, which was his way of reachingsomething beyond himself.Long ago, he had stumbled upon the technique by accident,when he used to daydream about her. He found that it also triggeredoff the poems, screenplays, and stories he wrote.
was obviouslythe catalyst, which was why he never claimed the credit for creatinghis work, only acknowledging that he was the recipient of inspiration.His tales came to him from another dimension of thought andexistence that he had found...thanks to her. He was simply a mediumfor the words that winged their way to him from that other shore. Allhe had to do was to hammer away at the keyboard as they wrotetheir way out of him. That was why he always laid the credit for hisoutput—poor, average, or indifferent—squarely at her door. Thingsfought their way out of him because
had chosen to release itthrough him. He was less of a writer than a transcriber, an idea thatothers took as a fantastic surfeit of modesty. But it wasn’t: it wassimply the truth. He didn’t care whether anyone believed it or not. That’s the way it was.He closed his eyes and relaxed, turning the problem of themissing bonds over to his subconscious mind, relaxing his tensetrapezius and abdominal muscles. Then he concentrated at a pointbetween his eyebrows where, he had read, the third eye resided. The Tibetan mystic, Lobsang Rampa, claimed to have succeeded inopening his third eye, but Mr. Mozumdar had found his detailedaccount highly confusing if not totally implausible.Mr. Mozumdar had laughed heartily when he’d read that book.But that had been long ago, in the 20
century. It was anothercentury now, and scientists had uncovered many mysteries about themind and the nervous system. Some even claimed to have found aspot in the brain that, if stimulated, evoked visions of ‘God’ andenabled conversations with him. One hardly knew the differencebetween science and religion any more, thought Ananto Mozumdar;the two appeared to over-lap more and more.Scientific achievements at the cutting edge of research into thenature of matter and reality were explained to laymen in the form of mystical expositions studded with metaphors and unintelligible Zen
, while religious texts were interspersed with the symbols and
the mundane prose of high-school physics. Many of the oldEinsteinian concepts of time and space had failed to withstand theonslaught of quantum theory and had crumbled, along with theNewtonian physics they had replaced.As researchers dug deeper and deeper into the fundamentalnature of things with their tunneling scanning electron microscopesand high-energy particle accelerators, they came across unexploredworlds within the atom that seemed to exist only on some illogicalwhim of an unlikely deity. It was all a huge paradox: the tangibleworld at the macroscopic level was based on a microscopic universewhose very existence was doubtful. It was as if everything was madeof nothing! The new god on the block was No Thing.If we perceive something as existing, it exists, realized Mr.Mozumdar. If we don’t, it doesn’t exist.
has any realexistence independent of its being perceived. It was ‘perception’ thatmade something real. It’s all in the mind, as the Buddha had told us. You see a pretty girl and she exists; don’t see her and what do youhave? Zilch! How science had progressed! From something tonothing! One hardly knew whether one was coming or going, anymore. Thought and Light were alike inasmuch as they were simplyforms of energy and had no mass. In fact, all mass was merelypotential energy. The inescapable conclusion was that the universe—one’s own self included—was evanescent mindstuff. It was a gigantichoax pulled off by a cosmic jokester
 par excellence
. But that’sprecisely what the Upanishads had said, thousands of years ago.As he drifted off into a reverie, Ananto Mozumdar was unawarethat the frequency of his brain waves had dropped from the wide-awake Delta level of 20 cycles per second to the Alpha level of 8cycles per second...the zone where the subconscious mind—the righthalf of the brain, intuitive and all-remembering—achieved parity withthe prosaic and practical left side. It extended tentacles of thoughtinto the final repository of all knowledge and memory—the boundlessuniverse—accessing a reality beyond the reach of the conscious,conditioned mind.It went to work on the problem. In his trance-like state, Mr.Mozumdar saw himself in the loft, pulling out a battered moulded-plastic suitcase and opening it...* The suitcase contained the bonds, alright. But there wassomething else in it that pleased Mr. Mozumdar even more. It was anold diary. And in it was the well-preserved colour photograph of a girlin her early twenties taken against the backdrop of a yacht. She stoodwith her weight on one leg and arms on her hips, a pose that

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