Wednesday, 30 January 2019

My ode to friendship

Kiran Singh
Is it when we laugh together at something silly? Or, is it when we share a pain affecting one but shared equally and silently? Or, is it when we have fun, drink, dine, dance, play around? Or, is it when we simply love a song or a tune and hum to it quietly, very aware of our tuneless humming? Or, is it when we argue like crazy, split up and then make up when better thinking prevails? Or, is it when we see the other one objectively and offer advice and criticism without being asked for? Or,is it simply being together watching television, reading a book or cooking and chatting inside the kitchen? Or, just calling up to say hi and nothing else in particular? Or, may be call and have so much to say but not able to and yet the other one understands there is something wrong, even without being told? 
Amitava Tewari
Three of us joined Genpact when the company advertised that it was welcoming senior employees. We lived in Delhi and Gurgaon was not far away.  The training was good except that the trainers were young enough to be our daughters. Hahaha! I remember I cried and howled on the last day of my training when I was going through a mock situation. My trainer, Bhaswati came with me to the rest room, calmed me down and spoke about my great experiences in the airlines and hotels and gave me courage. Thank you Bhaswati. Honestly I was so ashamed that I would not be a success compared to the younger generation who were our batch mates. Well, so far so good. Amitava was chosen for the USA process and Kiran and I were handed over to the UK process.
I remember Kiran and I resigned more or less together. Amitava had repeatedly warned me not to do so. I did not heed her advice. friends - why do we take each other so lightly and not pay attention? 
Today, 30/1/2019, I miss both of you. I can't just pick up the phone and expect to hear your voices. No more discussions about spirituality, talking about the good, bad and the ugly that has happened to me through the day, discussing crap or politics, laughing at silly stuff, or dismissing some stupid acts of ours, or getting some sound practical advice (especially from Amitava) or anything and everything under the sun or to the moon and back, arguing and exchanging opinions, and so many other things.    Yeah, guys it gets lonely at times. Especially, now with this intruder called cancer in my body, there is no one I can share very, very private moments. Things I cannot share with anyone else. you guys know what I mean. So, yes you are right Kiran, I talk to God and Guruji Krishnandaji. And Amitava, Bhaiyya got in touch with me through facebook. Your grand daughter is growing up to be a pretty lass. I am sure you can see them all from where you are. God bless your souls, dear friends. Love. 

Wednesday, 23 January 2019

MATAJI - YASHODHARA BEHEN - SWAMINI GURUPRIYA NANDA

MATAJI

With Jerome at the Soham Museum

With Jerome and Pavitra at the Soham Museum. 

With Sameer and Jerome at the Soham Museum. 

Entrance to Mataji's home in Mussorie.

Entrance to the Tripathi's home where Pavitra and I were welcomed as guests so lovingly. Credit to Mataji's beloved aura in that hill station.  

Moment of imminent estrangement and Mataji's some homilies about meetings and partings. I was tearful and Pavitra captured the moment naughtily. 

Mataji's adoration for her kriya yog guru when she received the Calcutta Yoga book. Thanks to Kavita Shukla for the snap.

At her Ahmedabad ashram with Pavitra and her friend. 


With my younger daughter last year.

With my younger daughter and her husband. They were lucky to meet her and get her blessings. 

The entrance to Mataji's landlady's home.

The ancient room warmer in their home.

Got to meet Ruskin Bond at his home! Thanks to Mataji.

Mataji and Ruskin's daughter-in-law.

View from Mataji's little verandah. One of the regular visitors. 

Chand Tripathi and Naveen Tripathi. Our loving hosts.

Just before Kempty Falls.

With Chand didi.

Chand didi and Kiran Tripathi. 
Mataji - a new name for someone I have known from more than 40 years. There is so much to say about this wonderful lady. All coming up tomorrow. 

Saturday, 1 December 2018

Mussorie - Once again

That's right, Mussorie called again this year. A call I could not resist. Who can? When the hills call?
Before the drive to Dehradun and Mussorie, I had my hair trimmed (call it vanity at this age) and visited Aikotaan Kali bari's Durga Pujo in Dwarka, New Delhi. After quite some years.
On our way to Dwarka.

After hair salon visit.

Aikotaan Pujo in Dwarka.

Ma Durga with her four children.


A few days later off to Dehradun and Mussorie. The drive took nearly nine hours from Haryana to Dehradun. Not at all recommendable when travelling with children Honestly. so by the time we reached Dehradun it was beyond the check-in time for my grand daughters into their boarding. However, in they went with sad faces. I thought it was fortunate that the long drive had made them so tired that soon they would have dinner and be dreaming sweet dreams. And the next morning, their daily discipline and activities would take care of any left over home-sickness. It did.   
 The reception of the school - Raja Rammohan Roy Academy/Cambridge School. The photo above us  is that of the founder - late A.C.Deb, my father's mejda. 
That night we put up at one of OYO chosen hotels, named Benison. Clean, airy, courteous; the morning sun welcomed us as we could practically see the sunrise from our balcony. And the air! Unbelievably clean and refreshing. We, who live in the big cities breathe in poison in lieu of living in so-called metros. 
The drive to Mussorie took about less than a couple of hours. Actually, it takes less time but our driver was from the plains, so we were a little cautious. The hotel on the Mall road was a disappointment. My sister had booked online through MakeMyTrip.com. We were appalled when we saw the room. It was a poor cousin compared to the room shown on the travel agent's site - what a comedown. We had no choice except to put up in that hotel, since the payment had already been done. However, we insisted on seeing some other rooms and shifted to a more respectable room. Lesson learned - best to come, check and then book a hotel room, not online unless you are splashing on a five-star or a seven-star accommodation. Such high-end hotels cannot risk losing their reputations.  The Mall road is choc-a-bloc with hotels and we soon discovered very cosy and comfy accommodations at a lesser price! May be next time - if there is a next time for me. 
If you come in your own car to Mussorie you should know that no cars are allowed inside the Mall road between 4-10 p.m. So the first day we drove around and by the time we were back it was beyond 'curfew' time, so the car had to stay outside the Mall road. Now the parking that side is not completely on flat ground and the driver was asked to stay with the car till 10 p.m. when he could drive on and then rest in his room. We were told that heavy trucks etc keep going up and down which puts parked cars at a risk of rolling down the hill. So someone has to babysit till 10 p.m. That was sad but unavoidable. I can imagine the driver sitting out there in the cold, even though inside the car waiting for the clock to strike ten. Hope the fresh climate and other drivers helped him pass the time cheerfully.  Another thing about the Mall road - every car getting inside has to pay 150 rupees at the gate. Each time you get in. Nice.
Next morning we took a local cab - I knew him from my last year's visit. He is young, well-known, friendly and can give you a rundown on the hill station and its residents - old and new. In fact, We saw Victor Banerjee say hi to him as we were standing outside a shop. For the uninitiated, Victor Banerjee is a popular and well-known Bengali and English film actor from Calcutta. He has his own place in Mussorie and probably prefers staying there instead of Calcutta. So as I said earlier, Jagat, the cab owner/driver is pretty popular in the Queen of the Hills. The taxi fares are pretty steep here and if the cab has to get inside the Mall road to pick you up from the hotel, that is 200 rupees at the gate. So if you can walk long distances and climb uphill, be sprightly and energetic then there is nothing like exploring Mussorie on foot.   
At Char Dukaan.

The paneer pakora is superbly delicious here. You must have some when you come here.


The famous church here.

And the chilli chutney - mmmmm.... we had 2-3 refills. 

Here I am with Jagat at the entrance of Mudcup Cafe, just down the Landour road. If you ever visit this place ask for ginger-lemon-honey tea. It was worth the wait - each flavour was so distinctive. Hats off to the dedication in making the tea. and the tea was definitely of a superior quality. The taste and flavour still lingers on. 



Inside the Cafe.
Prior to this Jagat took us to Sisters Bazaar, where I once again met Parul who runs a small curio shop in her home. she has items which are quaint, not-to-be-found elsewhere stuff. Parul and her mother give you that fast disappearing warmth to strangers. And Parul, a young woman, is enlightened, aware, compassionate and loving person. It was a delight discussing politics, weather, religion and so much more with this ex-student of Wynberg-Allen School. Parul is an awesome beauty, too.  She told us to stop by at Mudcup Cafe for a certain reason and in the bargain I discovered the "tea".
How did I miss this last time? Goodies galore! I remember last time while Mataji and I were shopping and chatting with Parul, just a few houses down this road, Pavitra got a call from Jerome. He had arrived in Mussorie and was waiting to meet us. Especially, Mataji, so we sped past the bakehouse and went down to Sameer's place, near the Shiva statue.. 


Sister's Bazaar

Sister's Bazaar.
On our way back to the hotel, we visited the Tripathis. Met Chand Didi, the eldest of them, who was in the middle of her classical singing class. With a roomfull of students Chand didi was playing the harmonium and we interrupted her for a brief moment. How could I visit Mussorie and not pay the Tripathis a visit? Chand didi, Naveen Bhai, Minto and his wife Kiran were such out-of-this-world hosts to my son and myself last year. Yes credit goes entirely to Mataji. How I missed her this time! Chand didi was very loving and told us if you are not happy with your hotel you are most welcome to come stay with us. Can you believe it? Where do you find such open, loving, honest hospitality. God bless them. No photos this time. 
Mataji called the day we were driving uphill. I told her I was on my way to her summer hometown. Pat came the reply - Tutu I am not there now. Hehehe! Of course I knew I would not meet her this time.  Next time. 


Thursday, 4 October 2018

Bishnu Charan Ghosh - Towards the past

I remember 10th March 2015 - the day I first met Jerome Armstrong, Ida and Scott at their hotel here in south calcutta. Yes my son, Pavitra, and I had gone to meet them. It was actually in November or December 2014 that I saw a mail from someone named Jerome Armstrong. At the time I was in Ahmedabad, no plans of coming back to Calcutta, if at all. So I wrote back to Jerome saying so, he replied they (Jerome, Ida and Scott) would be in India in March next year and wanted to meet me personally. Jerome wrote to say he had read my 'Moral courage' on Buddha Bose and also my blogs. To cut a long story short I have been working with them ever since that day - 10th March 2015. First it was the 84 asanas by Buddha Bose; then the 84 asanas by Dr. Gouri Shankar Mukherjee and the last but not the least - Calcutta Yoga. It has been a long journey. Will talk about it later. Right now I am sharing some insights into Bishnu Charan Ghosh's personality through his own writings. I just translated them from Bengali to English. These are titled 'Atiter Paane' and I have translated it as 'Towards the past'. I have tried to keep his simple, childlike, unambiguous and humble style intact, as much as possible. Even then these are delightful, gleeful and honest reading. Each one is dated as per its publication in the magazine called - Byam Charcha.
Searching for the magazine was an exercise by itself. Jerome got the name but could not find a single copy - not even with the family who used to publish it. Arup too had done his best scouring all and every library in Calcutta, but to no avail. I accompanied Jerome a couple of times to National Library looking for the same and then on the second visit we were about to give up when something happened. I was leaning against those pigeon holes where the library has every book catalogued, when it dawned on me - what if we are looking for the wrong alphabet? byam is pronounced with a 'b' in Bengali and this had produced no results. what if it was spelt with a 'v' as in Sanskrit? I rummaged through the catalogues and we hit jackpot! So here are the memoirs written by Bishnu Charan Ghosh himself.  Enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed reading and translating them. and if you know Bengali, you may easily go to the National Library and read the originals. 
This is one of the many he wrote.


BYAMCHARCHA – MAY 66
Sri Bishnucharan Ghosh (Byamacharya)

Riding a bike was a passion and a luxury for me. One afternoon around 3 p.m. I was about to go off when my Chhotda asked - ' Where are you off to?' I answered – 'Just round the corner, will be back soon.' My destination was more than a hundred miles away – to Coolti workshop; I was off to see Buddha who was there. On the way I picked up Budhai, another friend but did not tell him where we were going. When we were close to Salkhia a man was tottering on the road right in front, as if drunk. I kept blowing the horn but he did not move, so I banged him and pretended I too was drunk and rode in a drunken manner. I had warned Budhai about this act from beforehand. As soon the man got hit he started shouting - ' Catch him! Catch him!' I sped off and disappeared in a jiffy. One tire burst when we reached Burdwan and Budhai fixed it quickly; he was very handy in all these things. By the time we reached Buddha it was quite late in the night and Buddha had finished his dinner. We told him we too had our dinner on the way, so we spent the night chatting. Next morning I took both of them on my bike and sped back to Calcutta – again another hundred and a half mile stretch. We reached home late in the afternoon – I drove the bike sitting on the petrol tank and no food for the last 24 hours; I was famished. Riding on the Grand Trunk road was great in those days.
I was probably the first one in Calcutta to show acts on a running motorcycle. I remember putting one year-old Srikrishna on the petrol tank and placing his hands on the handle bars while I stood on the seat and performed on the road. The local people used to be scared and warned me many times to stop these antics; but I continued till one day. Srikrishna and I were smoothly going when suddenly an old woman came in front and that day was the last time I took Srikrishna on these acts – our three lives were at stake on that particular day. But such practice and dexterity helped me avoid a disastrous accident with a horse drawn carriage in front of the Minerva Theatre one day.
Swiftly turning the face of the bike backwards when driving in full speed was my best act.
One day after performing such a dangerous act on the road, with Buddha in tow, I reached home to find the famous wrestler Gobor Babu waiting. He said - ' I was sitting in the first compartment of the tram when I saw you speed between two trams. I was shaking with fear and closed my eyes; when I dared to open my eyes I was sure it was the end of you. But there were you alive and riding! But please do not do such dangerous acts anymore.'
I have driven between two tram cars very often and with different friends as pillion riders. I always warned them not to get scared and try to jump off or cling on to me tightly – because that would put me off balance.
Budhai did this mistake once when he was sitting behind me as I drove from west to east on Sukhia Street. I was blinking my headlights constantly instead of blowing the horn and as I did not hear any other car I picked my speed. A taxi suddenly without any warning drove fast right in front of me. I somehow did a 'v'-turn in front of the taxi and saved our skin, but Budhai, out of fear grasped my collar so tightly that I was nearly out of breath. When he got off he promised never to sit on my bike any more. Later he did sit on my bike but probably remembered his promise and got off immediately on some pretext.
I have faced danger many times due to my bike performances and a couple of friends lost their lives. One of them was Renu Roy – he bought his own bike after experiencing the thrill riding with me. One day he sped and crashed with a lorry in Shyambazar and died in the hospital. I can never stop feeling sorry for the loss of their lives.
The other friend was Apurbo Das – the famous ring master. Once when he was in Calcutta I showed him some of Lalit Roy's ring acts on the street; Buddha and I even got serious injuries while doing those acts. Apurbo returned to his hometown in Allahabad and tried to do the same act in his show. He crashed, hurt his head badly and passed away after seven hours of unconsciousness.
These deaths have hurt me immensely, no doubt but I did not stop loving my bike; I still do. I have scared many people after making them sit on my bike – one of them was the famous byam expert – Radheshyam Saha. I also faced death with many people on my bike and one of them was Keshabchandra Sengupta – the famous byam expert and the present editor of Byamcharcha magazine. Before I relate the story about Keshb Sengupta let me tell you about the Halsebagan incident. I crashed into a lorry filled with jute and broke my left leg; the doctors decided it was necessary to cut off my left leg. I refused and came back home; here I was attended by Dr. Panchanon Bhattacharya, who was able to heal my leg, even though I still suffer with my left leg. My pillion rider that day was byam expert Sri Debesh Ghosh who also suffered a broken leg in that accident. His daughter is Bani Ghosh – Bengal's best swimmer and expert at lathi-khela.
I had a very bad accident in 1950 in front of Hedua with a cart; strangely except for a broken arm I was unscathed. Why, is still a mystery.
I love motor bikes and everyone at home do the same – my son, my grandsons, my daughter Ava who was an expert motorcycle rider including my late son Srikrishna loved motorcycles. But the only Bengali woman to get a driving license for motor bikes is my favourite student 'Devi Chaudhurani' Reba Rakshit. She is not only expert on motor bikes but has many other qualities, which I will speak of later.
My motor bike incidents are many and once Chhotda commented - ' Whenever Bishtu goes out our hearts flutter dangerously – wondering when will he return. And when he does return he comes home with blood splattered all over him. And yet he is completely unconcerned.' I have had many accidents and injured myself several times but there is no accumulation of pus in any of my injuries.
I have forbidden more people to ride a bike than I have taught people to ride a bike in my lifetime. Among those who learned and became expert motorcycle riders are my son-in-law Buddha Bose, yoga expert Sukumar Bose, excellent byam teacher Dinesh Ghatak and others. My late son Srikrishna had also become an expert; he could ride a D. K. W. motorcycle at the age of ten and compete with me up to Barrackpore keeping up with my speed. The traffic police would be so amazed that they always forgot to take down our numbers.
I have bought and driven 36 types of high-end motorcycles in my life. In those days the Duran Brothers used to perform inside a globe and entertain people. I bribed their durwan (gatekeeper) and got the measurement of that globe, one night. Then took money from my father and built the same globe and practiced their stunts. I became an expert but never performed in public.
My friend, Jagatkanti Sheel, and I went to A. U. Rivers to request him to teach me his ' well of death' stunt. He answered it was a dangerous game and needed immense courage. I took him to Central Avenue and showed him my motor bike stunts and tricks; at the end he said - ' You are an expert. To ride the well of death is not at all difficult for you. You can learn in no time.'
There have been many who have invited me to see me perform on my motorcycle. Among them the renowned people were Sir John Anderson, Sir Hassan Surabarddi
and Lord Lytton.
Swami Yogananda, my Mejda was the first in the family to start riding a motorbike; the 901 Triumph motorcycle. It was with a sidecar and once when I was travelling with him in his sidecar it turned over while crossing a ditch. I broke my skull. Chhotda was also an accomplished bike rider; but I learned riding a bike from someone else. He is the Secretary of Bata Company, Mr. S. N. Chatterjee aka Suku, my friend.
There are too many memories with my bike – too many to write about. As I sit with my pen innumerable incidents crowd the pen nib – it is mind boggling. The best thing to do is put an end to this topic for good.


BYAMCHARCHA – JUNE 1966
TOWARDS THE PAST
Sri Bishnucharan Ghosh (Byamacharya)
Now let us go back to my childhood and my naughtiness; I was extremely naughty and quite unparalleled. My eldest brother whom I called Borda had come home for a few days – he was working outside Bengal and was home holidaying. He had soda the night before and kept the empty bottle under his bed and gone off to sleep. Now my focus was on the glass marble inside the bottle – those days soda bottles came with glass marbles inside them. I wanted that marble, very badly. I quietly sawed off the mouth of the bottle, took out the marble and put back the sawed off top on the bottle neck. Then I went down to play as usual. A little later the local pan-shop man came asking for the empty soda bottle; Borda asked me to go and fetch it. I frowned and said what if I break it? He realised it is a possibility so he went up himself to bring the bottle; I followed him quietly to see what if any reaction would there be. Borda stooped and picked up the bottle neck – the mouth of the bottle was in his hands and the remaining part on the ground. Borda said - ' Oh, ho! The bottle is broke!' he probably thought it broke while he was picking it up and the bottle struck the side of the bed and got broke. Then he looked down and said - ' But where is the marble?' He looked here and there, it was not anywhere to be seen. How will it be seen when it is inside my pocket? I immediately said - ' It must have rolled off down the drain and fallen outside on the side street; let me go and look for it.' I just ran down, once on the side alley I took out the marble from my pocket and then ran back to give it to my Borda. I saw him paying the pan-shop owner the price for the broken bottle; the man took the marble and was looking at it. I innocently said - ' What will you do with it now? Please give it to me.' He gave it to me and said - ' Now don't lose it. You saw the price of the marble is four annas.'
Another incident – this time with Mejda and Chhotda. Chhotda was recently married and had bought a beautiful silk lungi for himself; he enjoyed wearing it around the house. Mejda, who is very strong, saw him with the lungi on – snatched it off from his body; Chhotda was very crestfallen. I could not bear to see him so sad, so I told him - ' Do you want to see how I trick the lungi back from Mejda?' Chhotda agreed immediately. And said - ' I shall stand with my door ajar a little, as soon as you give it back to me I shall lock my door, otherwise Mejda will snatch it away again.' I said okay. I went to our father's room and saw Mejda had spread the lungi on the bed and was lying on it. I climbed up and started playing marbles on the bed beside Mejda, like a very good boy. A little later I let a marble roll towards his back/waist and pretended looking for it – groping under Mejda's back. Then I told him - ' Mejda please get up I can't find my marble, it has gone under you.' Mejda got up unsuspectingly; as soon as he did I pulled the lungi from under him and ran. Mejda too ran after me and caught me just as I threw the lungi to Chhotda, who caught it and locked his door. I, of course, was taken by my ears and made to stand on one leg by Mejda.
Chhotda came into the room after a few minutes and exclaimed - ' What is this Mejda? You have punished Bishtu for what he has done instead of congratulating him? Just imagine what I could not do through my might he did it so easily with his intelligence!' Mejda said - ' Yes it is good he is intelligent, but he must use it for good purposes. Otherwise he will turn into a dacoit.' Anyway I was released that day.
Chhotda and I often had skirmishes like this one day. I arranged two 'thongas' (small vessel-like or cup-like form to serve food in) made from 'shalpata' (leaves of shal tree) one on top of the other and put a cricket ball under each and placed them on the terrace. I ran down to call Chhotda and when we were on the terrace I told him to kick the 'thongas' and see if he could kick them over the roof. He said - ' You first and then you shall see how far I can kick it.' I kicked and it went on the roof. Now Chhotda came running from a little far and gave a strong kick – the ball from under the 'thonga' went crashing into the next house; I simply disappeared. Chhotda was hopping around on one leg in pain instead of cheering his success.
Now it was getting dark and I quietly sat with my books in father's room. Chhotda came limping and complained to Baba about me. Baba first had a good laugh and then asked him - ' tell me something – why did you not check whether there was anything under the 'thonga'? Chhotda said - ' He had already kicked a 'thonga' and showed me so I did not suspect anything wrong.' Baba told him - ' Didn't you wonder even for a moment as to why would he, such a small boy, challenge you?' Then he turned to me and said - ' I know you are intelligent but use it for your studies and to do good to others. Never ever do anything like this that brings harm to others. What if your Chhotda had broken his toes? He would be suffering for days, isn't it?'
I had never thought about the fact that Chhotda could have easily broken his toes. I was very remorseful, felt very bad and started crying and asked forgiveness from Baba and Chhotda repeatedly. They forgot my mischief and hugged me for long.
Ever since then I avoided playing such tricks on anyone except on one occasion – it was hilarious.
We used to do boxing lathi-khela etc at the Seller's Circus shows and earn money, which was used for the byam akhara. The whole process was supervised and managed by my guru late Rajen Guhathakurta.
One day, while I was in my clown act, entertaining the circus spectators with funny weight lifting, parallel bar, tumbling acts the boxing competition was about to begin. Now my friend and great boxer, Jagat Sheel, got up to announce the names of the two participants. He got busy and I quietly took his chair away and sat down, intently watching the boxing. Jagat without looking back tried to sit down and fell flat on the ground and the entire audience had a good laugh. I, still in my clown dress, pretended not to understand, looked at the audience and joined in by clapping my hands. The crowd loved it and laughed louder.
I became famous as a clown and entertained many people; my partner was Sri Bankim Das. He was a famous lathi-kela expert and brother-in-law of late Pulin Das.
I have played many tricks with passersby on the road, my son and grandsons loved them. In fact, my eldest grandson Sreeman Ashok Bose had even started copying my tricks and playing on his own.
My trick was to loosely hang a black, strong string over the telegraph and electric wires on the opposite pavement/footpath; the other end held in my hand in my balcony. One of my friends would attach a small hook to the hanging end of the string in the evenings and walk around aimlessly. As soon as he saw a coolie type person walking towards him he would swiftly attach the hook to his 'gamchha' (Indian towel) on his shoulders and move away. I would wait till he disappeared and then pull away the ' gamchha' from the person's shoulders; the man would look here and there and then thinking it has fallen off by itself would bend to pick it up. I would pull it away from him and make him dance trying to catch his 'gamchha' and then take it far away and hang just above his reach. Once it so happened a coolie got spooked by this and screamed - ' ghost' and ran away as fast as he could. The building opposite our house was a school for the deaf and dumb; its windows were always shut and so the people never understood who and where from was this trick being played.
There were times when I would call the breadman, hook a bread without his knowledge and take it. But I always made sure to pay for it later.
The lemon seller sold two lemons for four annas – a very high price. I would quietly take away two lemons and hide them behind the next door shop's signboard; openly buy two lemons and pay him four annas, as he asked. Once the lemon seller's conscience made him come back and told me - ' Sorry I tricked you, seeing a small boy, I asked for more than the actual price. Here take two more lemons – it is actually two annas for two lemons.' I quietly took out the two lemons from behind the signboard and showed him I had already taken four lemons. He was so dumbfounded! He confessed he had never been made such a big fool in all his life.



BYAMCHARCHA – JULY 1966
TOWARDS THE PAST
Sri Bishnucahran Ghosh (Byamacharya)
I was known as a good student in Hindu School and this happened when I was in the second standard. It was the first term exam and I used to see the Asstt. Headmaster, Brahmakishore Babu hide behind a pillar to catch boys who were cheating. I thought it was fun when he would catch the boy by the ears and yell at the top of his voice. I immediately had a plan to play a trick on Brahmakishore Babu; so on the history test day I brought along my geometry box. As soon as I saw him behind the pillar I opened my geometry box and peered in, as if reading something inside. I repeated this 2-3 times and sure enough Brahmakishore Babu was next to me and pulled me up by the ears while with the other hand he opened the geometry box. Seeing nothing inside the box he said - ' What were you looking inside the box for?' I shouted and said - ' why are you pulling my ear, it is hurting. Dilip had taken my box yesterday and just returned it so was checking if all instruments were intact.' Brahmakishore Babu quickly released my ears and said in a softer tome - ' Here I was thinking you were cheating. But why should you cheat? You always come first or second in class.' He quickly beat a retreat.
Next time I played such a trick during exam was years later when I decided to study B.Sc. after studying three years engineering at Shibpur Civil Engineering College. The exam venue was Darbhanga House – on the top floor. I had special permission from my Shibpur College to sit for the B.Sc. Exam; here I was sitting to answer astrology question paper, when all I had learned at the engineering college was maximum mathematics. Anyway I tried to recollect all that I knew about astrology and answer the best I could. I wrote hydro-statics that day and struggling with the question paper. I suddenly saw the head guard turning over the shirts/kurtas of some boys and soon someone was caught right behind me for writing some formulas on the inside of his kurta. I turned to see who it was and realised it was my friend, Veeru and I had given him this idea. I had a few astrology answers in a small chit inside my pocket and before getting caught by the guard, I quickly submitted what I had written on hydro-statics and walked out of the room.
Next day I entered the exam room and spoke loudly - ' What is this? We are about to pass out as graduate gentlemen and yet here we are being treated like common thieves?' Then softly I told the boys - ' I am about to take revenge for what happened yesterday' and showed them what was written on the inside of my kurta. “ Dhush Shala” was written in two inch letters. I told the boys when the guard turns over my kurta and reads this you must all laugh out loud. Just as I had done in my second standard and tricked the Asstt. Headmaster, I did the same with the head guard here. I kept looking inside my kurta a couple of times when sure enough the guard walked up to me and shouted - ' Stand up.' I stood up like an innocent fellow, while all the boys had stopped writing due to his shout. Now the head guard flipped over my kurta and read the two words. His face shrunk, just like the leech when it is treated with salt. The head guard briskly walked away from the room and the boys started to laugh loudly. He just said over his shoulders - ' No laugh, go on with your work.' Since then he always kept an eye on me. I could not care less; I was doing very well in my exams. A few days later communal fights started and it was our Chemistry exam day – the year was 1926.
That day Jatin was killed in Mechhua Bazar in a firing by the gurkha police. Jatin was very close to me – we had studied together at Mejda, Paramhansa Yogananda Giri Maharaj's Brahmacharya Ashram in Ranchi. Jatin was now a member of Pulin Das's akhara; he was hit in the stomach and somehow stopped the bleeding with his hands as he ran to reach the nearest hospital. But he collapsed on the way and died.
So that day I took a sword in a scabbard and a 'bhojali' tucked inside my dhoti under my kurta; my stomach seemed raised, as if I was hiding a book under my clothes. I put down the scabbard on the table and one guard approached me suspiciously as he saw my fat stomach. He asked me - ' What is this? Is it a book?' I answered - ' No, please go away and do not disturb me.' He refused to go away and signaled to the head guard to come over. I saw all this from the corner of my eye and at the same time got busy writing – it was Inorganic Chemistry, very easy paper and I got 88 out of hundred in that exam. The head guard was wary of me and ready to take revenge for the other day's humiliation, so he very gravely said - ' Give me that book.' I answered in an equally grave voice - ' Learn to respect sons of gentlemen, believe me it is not a book.' But he would not budge, in fact, signaled four more guards to surround me while I kept on answering my question paper. This time he threateningly said - ' Either you give me the book or else I shall have to use force.' I stood up abruptly pretending to be very angry with angry red eyes; I also saw the other boys were trembling with fear and I could see in their eyes that I was caught cheating on the last day of the exams.
In my pretension I kicked the table seven feet away and stepped back, took out the ' bhojali' and showed it to them. ' I hope now you believe it is not a book.' The head guard was stupefied and then uttered - ' My God you are a dangerous boy.' I said - 'This is nothing. Now see this', and I took out the sword from the scabbard and flashed it around and swiftly put it back inside. Then I told him - ' I am not a dangerous boy, these are for my self protection. I am a member of the seven hundred strong 'Voluntary Servicemen' – go and ask Professor Dr. Promotho Bandopadhyay of the University. And also verify whether I have to walk through muslim locality to come for my exams. Anyway, please bring me the table and you will have to allow me extra ten minutes if I need it.' Actually I did not need any extra time that day to answer my paper.
Now about what happened at Shibpur College, much before this incident. There I had somehow escaped a tricky situation by the force of my intelligence.
All those who have studied at the Shibpur College will remember Mr. Richardson, the principal, was extremely strict and was quite a terror for the students. We all knew he would silently enter the exam hall and spy out anyone who was cheating. On that particular exam day I was assigned a seat on the dias with two other boys on either side and right behind me was the head guard, Professor Maitra, who later taught at Vishwa Bharati University. I had a small slip with some formulas written on it and before I could proceed Mr. Richardson came into the hall. I stood up immediately and wished him ' Good morning!' Meanwhile I slipped the piece of paper in-between my answer sheets because I knew if I tried to hide it in my pocket I would get caught. Mr. Richardson asked me - ' How is it going?' I replied - ' Not so bad Sir.' He thumped me on my back and walked ahead. I heaved a sigh of relief but when I turned I saw the boy next to me trembling like a leaf and his shaking hands were hitting the pen repeatedly on the paper; his face ashen. After the exams he stretched himself on the ground in front of me and did pranam and said - ' Your nerves are amazing, Bishtuda.'
Yes my nerves have always been strong and I have sailed through many such tests entirely based on my nerves. Very smoothly every time. There are still many more such incidents to write about and it continues.



BYAMCHARCHA – AUGUST 1966
TOWARDS THE PAST
Sri Bishnucharan Ghosh (Byamacharya)
Exam incidents – I studied well and did well during the first and second term law tests; I faced a little time crunch before the finals. Those days I was very busy arranging to send the famous byam expert, Sukumar Bose, to Japan to be trained in jujutsu. I got about just ten days to do my revision, I was certain I would pass through if the questions were from these portions. But what if it wasn't so? What if the question paper was too difficult? So, I had to make arrangements to be able to get help during exams, and to do that I shaved the back of my neck upwards, wore a sando banyan underneath and on top a thin addi kurta. I even started wearing two wristbands on each hand; I was already very built by now and as a result I looked like a bad 'goonda' (hoodlum). All this to keep the guard scared from before, so they would not dare to intercept if I needed to ask anyone during exams. One day the guard even asked me - ' Sir what is that on your hands?' I told him very seriously - ' I box a lot and I have hurt myself a little.' I was flying quite high as it is – I had just got married! Anyway the question paper turned out to be exactly what I had wished for and I did excellently in my final exams. Moreover, during the exam I even helped two of my friends to write the correct answers. One of them who was sitting right in front was a good student but I could see he wrote the wrong answer for a particular question, so I corrected him. The other one was next to me and he used to coach me very well before any law test and yet he always failed; so to be coached by him I often had to wait for six months before he came up to my level. Anyway this time I had not been able to study with him but I got a strong feeling he is writing all wrong answers so I checked with him. Sure enough he was doing exactly that, so I corrected him. He objected and refused to listen to me; I had no alternative but to threaten to beat him up after the exams. He finally listened and he passed this exam. Now while I was busy telling and convincing this friend the guard said - ' Please stop talking.' I called him close and told him - ' do you know who I am?' the guard said - ' Yes I do'. I told him - ' I shall make you know me better when you come out on the street. Can't you see? We have all prepared for the exam but sometimes you do get confused and so we need to consult each other.' The guard said - ' sorry but if the head guard gets to know, who is extremely strict will chuck me out of the job and he will come here.' I said in a grave voice - ' He will not dare to come to me.' And I continued to help my friend. Well we all did well in the exams.
I had expected good results in my I.Sc. Exams but things did not work out in that way. I wrote my answers and even passed it on to my friends so they could copy. There are many such exam related stories which do not need to be related any more.

I have travelled to different countries, villages, towns in the last forty years doing my byam exhibition. Some of those experiences still shine in my mind and some have got obliterated.
This travel experience is very memorable and hilarious. This was after my I.Sc. Exams and I got three first class train passes to Colombo issued in the name of my father's three sons. The travellers were – Budhai, Kashinath and myself. I took fifty rupees with me, Kashinath took thirty rupees as agreed but Budhai had no money. His excuse was he could not tell his widow mother that he was travelling so far and needed money-he had told her he would be back as he was going to Puri. Budhai said his maternal uncle living in Kharagpur, would lend him some money. We never found his ' maternal uncle' in Kharagpur; not then and not even now after 45 years have we be been able to trace his 'uncle'. That day I was furious but Budhai kept on saying calmly - ' don't worry, everything will work out fine.'
The plan was we would get off at Shakhi Gopal station and I warned my friends, especially Budhai, not to go anywhere near any of the temple ' pandas' (priests) because they could fleece us of our little resources. Budhai never listens – he got hold of a shining, smiling panda, who took us around in a conveyance, helped us with our 'darshans', gave lunch, which was 'khichri' (mixture of rice and dal) with pure ghee. Evening we were treated to a round of snacks made with pure ghee, again. I had a gut feeling we would have to give all the money we had in our pockets before we departed by the night train.
Budhai explained a few things to us before the panda came to ask for the money and also instructed us to say exactly as he asked us to say! The panda came and said we would have to pay ten rupees each as tips over and above the actual costs. Budhai suddenly fell on the ground and did pranam (shashtange pranam) to him and cried - 'forgive us please! These boys are from very rich families but we all ran away from home. They had promised to bring some of their mother's gold ornaments but did not do so, in fact, they have not a single rupee on them. Please treat us as your sons and lend us twenty rupees so we can give ten rupees as tips and use the rest to go back home. We will send you the amount as soon as we reach home.' The panda was aghast and kept saying how can that be? You have to give the money and some offerings to God. Budhai did not leave his feet and kept on pleading, the panda felt uncomfortable and wished to leave the room as quickly as he could. And Kashinath and I had a hard time stifling our laughter, so we kept looking out of the window. The panda took off his torn blanket and said - ' Take this but you must offer something to God. I am blessing you, as it is.' he went out of the room, followed by a pleading Budhai. Ultimately the panda gave him an eight anna and said - ' go give this as offering. I bless you all.' Budhai immediately touched his feet and scolded us to touch his feet in reverence. We did and I quietly slipped a one rupee in the panda's hand and told him - ' I had this rupee he does not know.' Actually I felt awful for the panda.
Now we went to Puri, Chilka, Waltair, and finally reached Madras. Budhai put us in another predicament in Waltair. This is how. He got friendly with some Madrasi boys in the next room in the hotel we had put up; he got chummy with them and started smoking their locally made cheroot. I objected but he answered - ' Why should we fail to such thinny-skinny fellows?' I just walked out.
We could not find Budhai after a long time – our search finally ended in the bathroom where we found him completely naked and some one was pouring water on his head. I asked him – 'What happened?' He looked at me with red eyes and answered – 'That cheroot was strong and it is hurting my head.' I wondered where are your clothes? He said he must have left them behind at the commode bathroom; sure enough his clothes were there.
Budhai kept us entertained and on our toes all the way. The Madras adventure is coming up.



BYAMCHARCHA – SEPTEMBER 1966
TOWARDS THE PAST
Sri Bishnucharn Ghosh (Byamacharya)

We reached Madras and Budhai asked the guide to take us to a Madrasi hotel; he did so but the hotel boy told us the manager has refused us any rooms. Budhai ordered the boy to get his manager – a completely dark man, bare bodied with the ceremonial Brahmin thread across his upper body came and stood in front of us. He was the manager; when asked why we could not get a room, he answered only Brahmins were allowed to stay in the hotel. Budhai spoke angrily and said - ' Who said we are not Brahmins?' the manager asked us where was our thread? There we were bare bodied with no Brahmin thread around us! Budhai was not one to be shut off, he laughed out aloud – a scoffing laugh. Then he replied – 'Don't you know we Bengalis have the thread ceremony only after marriage? We are not married yet, how can we wear a thread? You should have known we are Brahmins the moment you heard our names. Now come on give us the forms.' So saying he followed the manager into the office and filled up the forms – adding a Chatterjee, Banerjee and Mukherjee after our names!
We made a grevious mistake while eating – we touched our glass with our right hands, which is sacrilege according to Brahmins. You are not supposed to touch the glass with the same hands that you eat with; the guide signalled we were making a mistake. We quickly cleaned the glass with our kerchiefs, then dipped the glasses in the water-pot, took out water to wash our hands and mouth, as is the custom.
We went around south India and visited many places, including the Rameswaram temple and finally boarded the ship to Ceylon. The station master there said he had been waiting for us for the last fifteen days ever since he got my father's telegram. We explained all that had happened in the last two weeks, he seemed satisfied with our explanation and got us tp board a train in a reserved sleeping compartment. A Belgium prince, tall and lanky started making a lot of noise and demanded he be given a lower berth, but the station master would not comply. Ultimately, the prince came to us and sweetly requested for the same; I, like a sportsman, offered him my berth and climbed up to the upper berth. We reached Colombo in the morning and on our way to the hotel bought plenty of the colourful 'halwa' being sold in the streets; the moment we put it into our mouths we spat it out – it was terribly smelly! All that went out of the window and we filled our stomach with rice etc in a Madrasi restaurant after refreshing ourselves. What a relief!
Our money was nearly over and Budhai suggested I ask my father for some money through telegram; but I thought it more prudent to go back home. I have no memory how we stayed there and then got on the Madras Mail train; one thing is clear I had only three paise left after I tipped the coolie at the station.
The journey was for two nights and one day to Madras, we decided to fast the whole journey. However, we were travelling in first class and our clothes were pretty dirty – not exactly like a first class passenger. We covered ourselves with a silk shawl and got ready to travel without any other misadventures. Our only other co-passenger was an Englishman, who could not hide his curiosity and finally asked me - 'Why have you covered yourselves with a shawl?' I told him the truth but he wanted to know since we were first class travellers why our clothes were dirty? I immediately replied - 'We went on a pilgrimage and during a pilgrimage we wear the same clothes – that is the custom.' He was quite impressed and said – 'In our country young boys like you do not even think of religion!' I smiled slyly.
One night and a day was passing by and the Englishman saw we did not eat anything, so he said – 'Why are you guys not eating anything? Is it because I am not of your caste or religion? Do not worry I shall go and stand in the platform while you have your meals.' I replied – 'We are not supposed to eat while travelling.' He was astounded.
When the train stopped at the next station I saw a man selling potato curry (alur dum) being sold – three potatoes for one paise. I could not resist and since the Englishman was in the toilet I quickly got down and bought three plates for ourselves. As soon as the Englishman came out of the toilet I went in and ate my share; next my two friends went in by turns and finished their meal.
We were finally in Calcutta and on the way home I had a little tiff with an Englishman on the road – I won.
We were an object of ridicule and hatred in the eyes of the English people those days; no wonder we too had developed a similar attitude towards them. They would not leave any chance of humiliating or insulting us. Once while travelling I remember an Englishman put up his shoe-clad feet right towards my face. I picked up a pair of slippers and shoes with my big toes and put up my feet in front of his face. He put down his feet- so did I. He had met his match.
It was unheard of that Bengalis should travel first class. It so happened that at a particular station Kashinath and Budhai went off for something and I was standing at the entrance of the compartment. A station master was ushering in a English couple into our compartment; he saw me and asked in Hindi – 'Boy where are your master and mistress?' I was quite thin and small to look at and he must have taken me for a boy servant of some English people. I answered haughtily in English – 'You fool we are three passengers in this compartment.' The station master made a quick retreat.
'
BYAMCHARCHA – NOVEMBER 1966
TOWARDS THE PAST
Sri Bishnucharan Ghosh (Byamacharya)
About travelling by train again. In those days there used to be a third class compartment for 'sahebs' (foreigners); but instead of fair and white people, these 'sahebs' were dark Anglo-Indians with their 'memsahebs' in gowns. Now most of them would be darker than ever, I could easily pass of as a 'saheb' compared to their skin colour. Anyway, once my nephew, famous byam beed (expert) Sri Bejoy Mullick and I had to travel to Allahabad. We found all the compartments were full except this particular third class compartment. I made him wait next to the entrance of the compartment and rushed home in a taxi and came back with two solar toupees; the train's scheduled departure time was still one hour away. Now both of us discarded our dhoti and kurta and donned half pants, keds, sando banyans and a hat each – ready to board the third class compartment. An Englishman stood guard at the gate and refused to open the carriage door; I gave it a hard push, it opened and the man was thrown back nearly on an English woman. He did not know whether to say sorry to the lady or turn and fight with me. By this time both of us – Bejoy and I were inside the compartment. I thought best to make friends with him but the Englishman was fuming with anger and said – 'You are not a sportsman in the true sense of the term.' I replied – 'You are also not a Christian in the true sense of the term.' Because it was not a Christian act to refuse me entry when there were enough seats available inside the compartment. But this man was adamant and was determined to quarrel,so he said – 'My dear, your dress is fine in the sports ground but not decent while travelling with ladies.' I replied immediately – 'But this is better than those half naked skirts. I can sit with my legs apart but they can't.' The man became silent but if he had not shut up I would have surely given him a good beating. All the 'memsahebs' got off the train before its departure; only a fair English couple and a small boy remained and a Bengali gentleman in suit and tie. The Bengali gentleman commented in Bengali – 'Well done.' I replied – 'Here you are dressed like a 'saheb' but did not stir or object when we were not being allowed in, why?' He said - 'I would have if I had not recognised you. I know you and I also knew if that man continued arguing you would surely beat him up.'
I told Biju to take off his shirt and sit with his banyan on – I did the same. This man then came forward and said – 'wow! What great muscles!' After that he was fawning over us and even shared his tiffin with us. I have a mischievous intelligence and if what I did is mischief I seek to be pardoned and if it was intelligent action it is for you to judge.
There have been many such incidents where I had to show some muscle power when travelling. The sad part is the opponent side took us for granted because we are Bengalis. I could not keep quiet but this was not exactly a personal issue any more.
Once I was travelling to Delhi with 15-20 boys from my akhara in a reserved third class compartment. When the train stopped at Koderma some Sikh men forcefully wanted to enter, we explained this was a reserved coach but they insisted and soon 5-6 of them took out their 'kirpans' (short knives – part of the Sikh getup), we could not keep quiet. We got off the train and gave them such a walloping that all their knives were in our hands. The train whistled and we got back inside our coach and shut the door. A Bengali pantry-car boy was trying to enter our coach through the window, the Sikhs thought he was part of our team and so pulled him down and started thrashing him. We pulled the chain, stopped the train, got off and rescued the boy. Soon we were surrounded by the railway officials – the station master, the guard and the railway police. It is a grievous offense to attack any serving government personnel; the Sikhs realised their mistake and were grovelling for forgiveness. All was forgiven and as good Samaritans we allowed the newly wed Sikh couple to travel with us; in return we were deluged with sweets.
Once when I was returning from Puri I got the whole third class compartment to myself – thanks to the station master who was my favourite student and famous weight lifter Sreeman Byomkesh. He settled me and then locked the door from outside. Suddenly I saw a young fellow I knew walking up and down the station with his newly wed wife – looking for a less crowded coach. I got them into my compartment with the help of Byomkesh, who locked the door again from the outside. The newly married couple were so happy and relieved. Little did we know about the troubles ahead.
At Bhubaneswar station a Marwari gentleman with two ladies asked me to open the door – I told him the door was locked from outside. He must go to the guard if he wants it to be opened. The man got angry and as the train was about to leave the station he climbed into the next compartment and started talking all sorts of nonsense about Bengalis loudly.
At the next station I called the ticket checker and asked him to open the door; the guard came and told me not to do so but I requested him to allow it. The door was opened and the Marwari gentleman and his two ladies came into the compartment. As soon as he came in he started his raving and ranting about Bengalis. I said – 'You saw the door was locked from outside, the guard did not want you to enter here. But see I arranged so you could come in. and yet you are still abusing Bengalis? Why?' Instead of getting subdued he fumed more ferociously and kept us calling names; I reached my limit of patience when he said – 'Bengalis are dogs.' I got up and gave him such a tight slap that he fell off the seat. I grasped him by the collar and shoved his head out of the window and threatened to throw him out. His wife and teen-aged daughter fell at my feet and cried for mercy. I brought him back inside and slapped him once more. He turned a circle and fell on the ground. I hoped he had by now become sensible. He caught my feet and cried for mercy; I turned and saw that the newly married bride was trembling like a leaf in fear.
I made it clear to the Marwari gentleman that his bosses, that is the Birlas and Goenkas, hold me in very high esteem; that it is quite simple for me to go and pick him up from his bed at home, if I wished to do so. I cannot describe the Marwari gentleman's condition at that time but I do remember that he sat in one corner the entire night even if though there was an empty berth.
Once I was returning from Deoghar with my family; I had second class tickets. None of the second class compartments were open, only one window in one of the compartments was open and inside was a Marwari family. We entreated them to open the door but all fell on deaf ears. The guard and the station master requested them but they did not respond. We had no alternative but to get into a third class coach. There were some byam beeds with us travelling together, one of them stretched his hand through the second class barred window, snatched a person's spectacles and gave him a box on his nose. The man fell down; he brought the glasses to the third class compartment, we broke it and threw it out through the window.
Next morning when the train stopped at Burdwan station I saw the same group of Marwari people pointing at us and saying something to the ticket collector. The ticket collector did not come to me right then but waited till the people had left. He came close and asked me – 'Bishtuda what happened?' I told him the whole incident. He replied – 'You did the right thing. He was saying he would complain to the police I told him why are you bringing in more trouble for yourself? First you will have to pay for the whole compartment. Second if your glasses are not found in his custody you will fall into a defamation of character case. Moreover, the police will not believe that Bishnucharan Ghosh has snatched your spectacles. When they heard you are the famous byam guru 'Bishnu Ghosh' they simply walked off in fear. I had a good laugh then.'
Once I was returning after a performance with the whole troupe. We had to get on the Janata Express train; the Anglo-Indian guard refused to load a big box and a big wooden plank. I asked the boys to board the train and that I would follow in a passenger train. But what happened after the train started is worth telling. The train suddenly stopped. I came to know later that the boys had boarded separate coaches, pulled the emergency chain and got off the train. One of the boys even pulled and tore off the chain, the guard came to me to complain but was stupefied as I was just standing at the platform waiting for the passenger train. Ultimately, the guard allowed the stuff to be boarded into the ladies' compartment. Reba Rakshit accompanied the baggage. Yes the train was late by an hour that day.
It is not that I always had confrontations when travelling in a train; there have been times when I made great friends. So let me finish this topic with a few humorous and friendly accounts. I was returning from Moghal Sarai to Calcutta and the train was absolutely packed. I walked up and down to see if there was any coach free enough to board and I could not see anyone I knew. I found someone. I reached out to him through the window and then I went in and spent the entire night, or so it seems, talking. But when I got up in the morning I realised my head was on someone's lap and my feet on some one else's. I did not even know one of them. However, we reached Howrah station!



BYAMCHARCHA – OCTOBER 1966
SUITABLE YOGA FOR ALL
Byamacharya Sri Bishnucharan Ghosh

You are all the future of my country. You have to grow with the right principles and health so that your actions will bring glory to your country and give it an esteemed position in the world stage. For this you must develop your knowledge, science, strength, courage, patience, withstand difficulties, fortitude, physical and mental agility and alertness, be dutiful and honest. And to be successful in all these you must have good health, which you can attain only if you become aware of good health from an early age and strictly follow the rules.
I am about to tell you what yoga asanas you should do to keep good health. Now the question arises – should all of you do the same asanas? Should you not study your physique and understand its individual requirements? Let me be more elaborate – some of you may be suffering from tonsil problem, some from cough and cold, some may be short in height, some may be tall and thin as a reed, some may be obese and unable to be active, and many more such problems – problems that will leave you with no energy to play or run around.
I shall give you the names of a few asanas and also their benefits, so as to help you choose the asanas that will suit you the best and bring you maximum benefits. Thus if you suffer from tonsil problem you must do the asana that will heal it, if you are short practice the asana which will increase your height, if you are too fat practice the asana to reduce your weight and so on. Unless you pay attention to the asanas and their benefits and match them with your requirements but just practice any asana you will not benefit from the practice. You will naturally lose interest and stop practicing due to lack of benefits and interest.
One other important point to note – no matter how much you practice asanas you must be disciplined in your food habits. You cannot just take it for granted and eat whatever and whenever you please – you must refrain from eating too rich food, eating at odd times or snacking all the time. Another advise – practicing asanas does not mean you have to stop your extra-curricular activities like – dancing, singing, sports, painting etc. If these are part of your daily routine then do not stop, in fact, along with asana practice these activities will bring more joy in your life.
All of you who have never done any asana I would advise you to start with the following three asanas – bhujangasana, shashangasana and ustrasana. You must practice these three for a month; then start practicing – 1. dhanurasana 2. shashangasana 3. ustrasana 4. paschhimottanasana 5. chakrasana 6. padmahastasana 7. ardha chandrasana 8. ardha matsyendrasana 9. halasana 10. matsyasana 11. bhadrasana 12. baddha padmasana. At the end practice uddiyan or nauli. These must be done in the exact order as given; and rest in savasana for five minutes at the end of your practice.
Once you have done these for 2 to 4 months start on sirsasana, kapalbhati and shitali pranayam.
BHUJANGASANA -
Method of doing – Lie down on your stomach, place both palms facing down next to your chest on the ground, keep the elbows as close to the body as possible. Keep your legs straight and stiff, now raise the upper portion of your body from the navel upwards and backwards. Stay in this position for 20 seconds which can be increased to one minute duration. Keep your breathing normal. After this do savasana; bhujangasana and savasana makes one round, you must do three rounds like this.
SHASHANGASANA -
Method of doing – sit down in a kneeling position, hold the heels from the back with your hands; now bend forward and place your head on the ground. Draw the head closer to the knees touching it with your forehead. Now roll your head forward, as if trying to turn a somersault but not actually so. When you stretch yourself like this you will feel the spine being stretched and the back becomes rounded. Keep your breathing normal; stay in position for 15 seconds and later you can increase it to one minute. Rest in savsasana for one minute after that.
USTRASANA -
Method of doing – Sit in kneeling position; now instead of bending forward you will have to bend backwards. Hold the heels with your hands and push forward your chest, throw your head back and try to make an arc with your upper portion of the body. Stay in this position for 20 seconds and then gradually one minute. Keep your breathing normal. Rest in savasana for one minute – this is one round. Repeat three rounds.
Initially you may ask some one to hold you or give support while you come into the position of the asana – because there is a possibility of getting hurt and having pain.
BENEFITS -
Bhujangasana makes the spine supple and strong – this helps your resistance power. Always remember it is more important to have a very strong spine than to just have strong arms and legs. The military personnel all over the world are especially taught spine strengthening exercises to increase their resistance power. The name of the asana – bhujanga means a snake. Among all the creatures on this earth the snake has the strongest spine – it wraps itself around the strongest animals of the world and crushes them with its strong spine. The snake raises its upper body with the help of its spine and moves around in a wriggly fashion – strengthening it further. Besides, this asana relieves you from pain in the waist and backache does not affect you till old age if you keep practicing this asnana regularly. Girls must continue this asana even after becoming women – it has many benefits.
Shashangasana – This asana strengthens the spine and fortifies each and every joint of the spine. The length of the spine increases when you are in this asana pose – measure the length while just sitting and then measure the length of the spine when in this asana pose – the difference can be anything between six inches to nine inches. This means it increases the height – quite a big thing. Besides, the blood circulation in the head increases, enhances memory, sight and the thyroid gland. As a result fat accumulation in the body gets reduced and at the same time you retain the amount of fat necessary to keep you healthy. The tonsil becomes enhanced and the parathyroid gland functions very well, which in turn makes your bones stronger. Most importantly the pituitary gland is enhanced which keeps you healthy and glowing.
Ustrasana – The spine gets stronger, the rib cage is stretched and enlarged while the rib cage bones get stronger and any problem in them gets healed. The lungs, heart, liver, kidneys and other internal organs become healthier leading to a well functioning body system. The respiratory system becomes stronger thus lessening the chances of any asthmatic problems in future. Your breathing power is enhanced and makes you a stronger player.
This is all for today.

BYAMCHARCHA – DECEMBER 1966
WHY 'TOWARDS THE PAST?'
Nikhil Chandra Bandopadhyay from Patna questions – It is a pleasure to read 'Towards the past' as it is written very well. Now we know the writer as Byamcharya Bishnucharan Ghosh and I do not find anything in these articles related to byam. Why then publish these articles in Byamcharcha magazine? We, as students want more stories about his byam practice and related to byam, so that we get more incentive.
Editor answers – Thank you for your letter. We have received letters asking the same question from other people, so I am answering you and all of them through this reply. 'Towards the past' is not exactly an article on byam – it is the life story of a famous byam expert. Byam is one part of his life and how can we think that a person has only one aspect to his character or personality? Do you not enjoy reading about his life? If not, why do you read the biographies of other renowned people? Do you not find a lesson to be learned in every incident he has related? Do you not relate to a motherless child's pain, his utter devotion to his father, his extremely intelligent personality? Have you not found truth rear up its head in each and every story of his? Is there nothing to learn from his absolute selfless attitude in the exam halls where he is more concerned in helping his friends rather than achieve best results for himself? Byamacharya is a man full of humour and wit; all of us who have the honour of coming close to him have been fascinated by his nature. I am most fascinated by his magnanimity. I have been witness to incidents where he has shown extreme courage to keep the respect of his countrymen; he has never let down his countrymen in the presence of foreigners. Byamacharya has always stood up for Bengalis whenever necessary; he has vehemently opposed when a Bengali is insulted or humiliated without a thought for himself. He saw to it that Bengalis made a name in areas where they had never ventured.
These many facets of Byamacharya's life has influenced and enraptured us; without these little bits of autobiographies we would never have known the man and his innumerable qualities.
I am not sure what is the meaning of 'byam' to all of you but to me it means a wholesome human being with a sound body and mind. Byamacharya Bishnucharan is the greatest example. Hope you have understood the importance of my reply and I also hope you will gain a lot by reading his autobiographies.