The Secret of the Chalisa (3 page)

It was late evening when Sanjeev and Ravi reached Pawan Kumar's house. The winter days were short. The darkness had started falling and coldness was creeping in like a soft mist flowing over the mountains. The house still looked beautiful and majestic. It was lit by yellow lamp posts and the awning had dimly lit yellow colored light emerging from it.

Sanjeev and Ravi traced their steps to the stairs when suddenly Sanjeev gestured Ravi to stop. Unlike the usual silence of the house, there was some murmuring heard. It seemed that Pawan had some guest who was loud and harsh in his tone.

“But, Mamaji, Ma never told me anything about it,” said Pawan.

“Pawan, this house belonged to me as per my father’s will,” he said. “Anjana was staying here with you and was using it as her laboratory. But now I need it back.”

“As far as I remember, Nanaji has changed his will and given this property to Ma. He wanted her to have her Ayurvedic studies here and start a yoga school one day,” replied Pawan.

“Do you have the property papers?” inquired Anjana’s brother.

“I don’t have with me. But it must be somewhere in the house,” stated Pawan.

“See, unless you show me the papers, the property still remains mine. I want to build a resort here. It’s a good tourist attraction,” he said. “You are my nephew. I don’t have any grudges against you. But I need to see interests of my children too.”

“I can understand. However, this is an important property issue. Ma would have told me about it if she knew,” Pawan said.

“You think I’m lying,” Anjana’s brother said with anger in his tone. “You are Anjana’s son and younger to me. Stop arguing with me. Is this how Anjana has raised you up?” Anjana’s brother was shouting at Pawan. “I’m giving you a month to vacate the house. Else I’ll call my people who know very well how to get the house cleared off trash.”

“Ma has raised me well,” answered Pawan in a composed manner. “I’m not afraid. You know well that I’m a wrestler and I can manage any kind of trash cleaner alone. Please leave, I’ll see you after a month,” said Pawan gesturing him out of the house.

Sanjeev and Ravi saw the angry Anjana’s brother marching out of the house. Ravi immediately pulled Sanjeev to a hide out.

“Not a good time to speak to Pawan Sir, “whispered Ravi. “Let’s leave.”

“Yes, some other time,” said Sanjeev sighing.

“Just a month’s time to demolish the house. What if something is hidden there?” thought Sanjeev as he left from the house in darkness.

Rāma dūta
atulita bala
dhāmā

Anjani putra pavana suta nāmā

"You are the messenger of Rama (to Sita), You are the abode of incomparable power. You are also called by the names of 'Anjani Putra' (Son of Anjana) and 'Pavana suta' (son of wind go
d
)"

Early in the morning Sanjeev was standing in front of Pawan's house with his backpack wondering if he should go inside or not. Yesterday’s night was a restless one for him. He was unable to sleep. Weird thoughts and dreams were haunting him. Still, he gathered courage ad reached Pawan’s house as he was the only important lead till now.

He knocked the door slowly and cautiously. “Mind you Sanjeev, he’s a wrestler. One punch and you’ll be done forever,” he thought.

Pawan opened the door and asked, “What happened?”

“Sir, I wanted your help… I mean can you
please help me?” he muttered.

Pawan stared at him for a while then said, “Come in.”

“I was observing the relics you gave me yesterday. Can you help me decipher them?” said Sanjeev said feeling scared.

“So you saw them!” exclaimed Pawan. “Well I knew you would come, but didn’t know so soon. Take them out. “

Sanjeev took out the wooden box and the booklet from his backpack and laid it on the table.

“Tell me what you observed,” ordered Pawan.

“Ss…Sir… I saw the grooves and the caution note on the box. It also has some keys because it tinkles when shaken. The booklet has some words in bold font. See… see here, Sir,” Sanjeev blabbered and showed him the booklet. “Your name is in bold. That too twice. See Sir, see….

Anjani putra pavana suta nāmā

Your name is in bold,” said Sanjeev showing him the book and emphasizing his point.

Pawan took the booklet in his hand and observed it closely. His eyes twinkled when he saw something in the booklet. He immediately grabbed his spectacles and examined the booklet again.

“Did you notice this?” Pawan said showing Sanjeev the booklet. “It’s written in red ink on yellow paper. Such kind of book is supposed to be very powerful. And yes it has words in bold fonts. On the first page I can see some red Roli and a piece of akshat stuck on it. That means Ma must have prayed with this booklet. It smells of camphor too.”

Sanjeev saw and realized that he had missed those fine details.

“So what kind of help you want from me?” asked Pawan.

“I don’t know Sir. Actually I’m very confused. I don’t know how to proceed. So I came to you. Probably you can show me a way out,” said Sanjeev his eyes filled with genuine sorrow.

“Next month I have to submit my completed thesis and thereafter appear for exams so that I can complete my doctoral. When you told madam has left behind something for me, I thought she left my corrected and signed thesis. Without it all my efforts will go waste. Truly speaking, I was disheartened to see what she left for me. So I don’t know what to do with these relics,” cried Sanjeev.

“Hmmm… I can understand your dilemma now,” said Pawan. “But if Ma has left you this it means something precious. Maybe it leads you to what you want and even more than that. You need to trust your guide, after all she was a genius,” added Pawan.

“I believe so far you’ve discovered that the bold letters in the booklet are the clues. Let’s see the box now,” said Pawan asking for the wooden box.

Sanjeev handed over the box to Pawan and came closer to his chair where he kneeled down on the ground. Pawan examined the box closely. “Your observations were right. I could make out the caution note, grooves and the tinkling sound. But did you see here?” asked Pawan pointing at the corner near the caution note. There was a small Swastika symbol engraved in the wood. It was the same color as the wood and could be easily missed due to its miniature design and size.

Sanjeev was again spellbound. “I… I didn’t notice…. But what does that mean?” he asked.

“It’s a symbol of our family key maker. He also makes idols of Gods and Goddesses. But only on demand. He’s grown old and hardly makes anymore. But he’s a very skilled artist I must say. You should speak to him. He will tell you why he made this mysterious box,” answered Pawan.

Sanjeev’s eyes sparkled with hope. “Oh what a lead. Thank you so much Sir,” he blurted out.

“Here, take his address, note it in your mobile,” said Pawan finding it in his old address diary. “His name is Bajrangi. He doesn’t give business cards anymore. Go with a friend of yours, he stays in Mussoorie,” informed Pawan.

Sanjeev was elated with joy. The key maker would give him the spare key and all his problems will be solved soon. Once again his face was happy with anticipation.

“Mussoorie! Here I come,” he thought.

Mahavir Vikram
Bajrangi
Kumati nivar
sumati Ke sangi

With Limbs as sturdy as Vajra (The mace of God Indra) you are valiant and brave. On you attend good Sense and Wisdom. You dispel the darkness of evil thoughts.

“Bajrangi Artifacts. Library Bazaar, Gandhi Chowk, Mussoorie,” was the address which Pawan had given Sanjeev. Sanjeev and Ravi were staring at the address and then at the busy market street trying to find the shop. Standing in front of the old Mussoorie library in the warm sun of a cool winter morning, Sanjeev was struggling with his eyes to locate the shop. The streets were busy bustling with locals and tourists. The market shops were open with their brightly colored paraphernalia adding warmth to the surroundings.

“Let’s ask someone. Else the entire day will be wasted in locating the shop,” said Ravi.

“Yes,” answered Sanjeev and headed for the huge Nath Jee departmental store. “Sir, do you know this address,” asked Sanjeev to the old man sitting at the billing counter.

“Oh you are looking for Bajrangi?” he replied. “There’s a small shop at the corner on right side. It’s a very old shop. You’ll see some paintings of Gods at the doorway,” he guided.

“Thank you uncle,” said Ravi and they both headed for the shop on their bike.

“Look it’s there in the corner,” said Ravi pointing to the shop. Sanjeev parked his bike near the shop and both of them reached the vintage shop. The shop had an old wooden door with intricate carvings and numerous idols of various deities adorned the shop. The passage to the door had paintings displayed.

Sanjeev saw an old man in his late sixties, with a black carbon framed spectacle placed on his nose. A black string hung around his neck attached to the spectacles. His few graying hair were giving way for bald scalp to emerge like a rising moon. He was lean and thin and stooped while walking. He wore woolen pants and shirt and a hand knitted sweater, and a maroon monkey cap covered his head and face. The shop had a wooden table as a counter blocking the way to the interior of the shop. The interior was carpeted and had various relics to its display.

“What do you want,” he said sternly.

“Are you Bajrangi? Pawan Sir gave me your address. I have something important to show you,” said Sanjeev taking out the wooden box from his backpack. The moment he saw the box his expression changed and soon he was yelling at Sanjeev. “Who gave you this box? Who are you? A thief? How dare you come to my shop? And how dare you place your dirty hands on this box? Oh look, what have you done to this masterpiece? You’ve broken it, you dumb head,” Bajrangi screamed and took the box in his hands.

Sanjeev was shocked to see his reaction. “Let me explain. I…. I got this box from….,” Sanjeev tried to explain but Bajrangi was bursting with anger. “Oh you youngsters of today, irresponsible people!” he exclaimed. Just then a lady stepped into the shop from the back door. She was lean and thin too but appeared friendlier than Bajrangi. She wore a woolen kurta pajama and covered herself with sweaters and shawl. The shawl covered the most of her head and face so that one could barely make out her eyes and nose.

“What happened? Why are you screaming Pappu’s father?” she asked.

“See Sumati, he broke this,” Bajrangi showed the box to his wife. She took the box delicately in her hands and stared at it for a moment. “Calm down please. Let me talk to him,” she tried to console her fuming husband.

“Who are you, Son? How did you get this?” she asked warmly.

“I’m Sanjeev. Pawan Sir gave me this. He said Dr Anjana had left it for me. She was my guide and professor in college,” Sanjeev tried to explain. “I don’t know what it is so I came here to ask you about it. Please help me, it’s very important for me,” Sanjeev said sounding remorseful. Sumati gave him a thoughtful look and then asked, “How do I know that you’re telling the truth?” she asked. Sanjeev felt the sincerity in her voice and realized that she knew something, something important which could help him. He reached out for the booklet and his college ID which was signed by his guide.

“Look here,” he said. “This is the booklet she left for me along with the box and this is my ID. I can call Pawan Sir, you can speak with him,” he said showing Pawan’s phone number on his mobile.

The old lady was cautious too. She checked all the details and only after speaking to Pawan showed her willingness to help Sanjeev.

“Ok, I trust you. Pappu's father, we can help him,” she proclaimed. Bajrangi came closer grumbling and picked up the box.

“OK boy, listen carefully. Anjana madam is our very old customer. My father had made idols and locks for their family since long and now my wife and I do the same for them. However, since few years we’ve stopped this work and make only on demand for some special customers,” Bajrangi started narrating.

“Yes, Anjana madam was a very kind lady. We couldn’t say no to her,” added Sumati. “She wanted us to design something very unusual. In fact she was very specific in her design. We made for her what she wanted. But this, Son, is not what we gave her,” she said.

Ravi noticed Sanjeev’s face fading its color. He said, “What do you mean it’s not that? This is exactly what we got,” he said.

“Do you think we’re lying,” blurted Bajrangi in anger.

“No, no, we didn’t mean that,” said Sanjeev. “Can you please explain,” replied Sanjeev.

“I’ll tell you Son,” Sumati offered help. “Actually this box had deities of Lord Ram, Goddess Sita, Lakshman and Hanuman on it. Those served as levers for the lock. Unless you have those idols this box will not open. If you try to break open it will burn to ashes. Can you see the two drawers here,” she said pointing at the side of the box. “See here, there are two drawers. The upper one carries inflammable material and lower chamber is for protecting valuables. On applying force or wrong levers the materials mix in a certain pattern and burn the box. Each idol is a lever formed by complicated sequence. The moment you fix an idol, a cylindrical lever will project out and lock itself in the indentation. Thereafter you will be unable to remove it. To open the box, you will need all the idols in place,” said Sumati disclosing the secret of the box. “My husband designs such secret locks and vaults. I make idols and I designed the idols for this box,” she added.

Sanjeev didn’t know how to react. For once his heart glowed with happiness when he knew the secret of the wooden box. However, instantly his mind was again clouded with despair. There were no idols on the box, just some groves in its place and he had no clue where the idols were.

“We don’t know where the idols are, can you make them again for us? Then we can open the vault and….,” Ravi continued to say when he was interrupted by Bajrangi.

“Ah! Another dumb head. How will it be a safe vault if I can design another key so easily?” exclaimed Bajrangi. “Can’t you see how uniquely this was designed? All the effort and pains were taking in making the box so that there is no other way to open it,” he added.

“OK, I understand,” said Sanjeev trying to gather his broken thoughts. “Can you help us find the levers, I mean the idols to open
this box?” he asked.

“Son, I’m not sure where Anjana madam kept those. But I believe, she was trying to protect something very valuable. Maybe she has carved out a path for you to find the pieces together of your jigsaw puzzle. Once you find those idols, we can help you open the box. Nothing more till then,” said Sumati.

“What’s this?” asked Sumati looking at the booklet.

“This is Hanuman Chalisa. Madam left it for me along with the box,” replied Sanjeev.

“Let me see,” said Sumati opening the booklet. “Oh look here, the word Bajrangi is highlighted in bold and Sumati too,” she exclaimed to her husband. “Probably Madam wanted to hint towards us.”

Sanjeev saw the booklet and was again amazed by it.

“Son, maybe this is your map to the key,” told Sumati. “This will help you find the lost idols. Above all madam gave you Hanuman Chalisa which is a powerful weapon in itself. Do you know what Hanuman means? I hope Pawanji would have told you. Did he?” she added.

“Pawan Sir? No he didn’t tell me,” said Sanjeev perplexed. “Oh then you should ask him. I’ve never heard such a beautiful explanation ever in my life,” Sumati advised.

Sanjeev found himself in a vacuum again. It seemed to him that for every step he took forward he fell two steps back. He collected his relics in his backpack and prepared to leave. “What more can Pawan Sir tell me?” he thought as he left with Ravi for Dehradun.