Silence Please!

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I never claimed I am a paragon of truthfulness and whatever I say in my blogs is 100% true.

But this one is:

Soon after I joined IIT KGP in1965, my friend NCN dragged me by hand to the Common Room of Gokahle Hall saying that the renowned speaker Mr Rao from Railways is giving a one-hour invited talk and we shouldn't miss it. I asked him why. He said Mr Rao is known for his silver-tongued eloquence in English and talks breathlessly...like that weird chap adored by my music-loving son.

I said ok, and as often happens with me, I lost interest in Mr Rao's eloquence in 5 minutes and started gathering my own wool. At the end of the stipulated hour, the Common Room fell silent for a second, only to explode to a thunderous applause. When we were returning to our Mess I asked NCN what Mr Rao was talking so breathlessly about. And he replied:

"The need for Silence in the modern world"

Long long ago, four brothers, Sanaka, Sanandana, Sanatkumara, and Sanatsujata (S4) were fed up with the inequities of this world and wanted to know the Truth behind this drama of Creation, Sustenance and Dissolution and set about seeking a capable Guru. And they went to the Creator Brahma's home and entered without knocking, to surprise him. And found he was engrossed in enjoying his consort Saraswati's veena recital; and they drew back thinking that a chap who is so enamored of his wife's music is no good for them. Then they went to the Sustainer Vishnu's place and entered their drawing room. And found he was lying in an ocean of milk on the manifolds of a serpent and his consort Laxmi was kneading his lotus feet. And drew back saying he is worse. And they then went to the Destroyer Shiva's place and found he was the worst of all...he shed half his body and was inseparably living in with Gouri.

They drew back crying: "Aiyyo! Aiyyo!! Aiyyayyo!!!"

As they were wandering dejected in Nandan Kanan (Bhubaneshwer), Lord Shiva took pity on them and appeared before them seated beneath a banyan tree as a youthful sage called Dakshinamurty who was gazing at infinity in silence. And the whole chirping forest fell quiet at their meeting. And the four chaps S4 sat by the Sage and eventually closed their eyes and opened them after a good hour, only to find that the Sage had vanished meanwhile whisking along with him all their doubts and dilemmas.

Adi Sankara wrote ten stanzas called Dakshinamurty Stotra and all who know these things admit that those ten stanzas contain within them worlds within worlds of advaitik philosophical thought, like SDM told me about Gel'fand Patterns.

During the first half of last century there was a lad (RM) who reached a temple-town in South India when he was 17 and never left the place till his death at 70 in 1950. And he rarely spoke. And was sitting all the time gazing at infinity. Folks found him unattractive since he never wore ocher robes but only a white kaupeen (codpiece), didn't belong to any known Order, never blessed anyone, nor lectured in the Common Room of Gokhale Hall on the need for silence. But goras fleeing the soul-shattering guns of WW I and II thronged to him to imbibe his silence. And when goras come, can kalas and brownies stay behind? So he became popular and an Ashram grew up around him...but he kept his silence nonetheless.

And whenever someone becomes popular, there will arise detractors, like the khekhras (crabs) trapped in a Brittannia biscuit tin pulling down with their combined might whichever of their colleagues tries to climb out. And a famous mind-reader (MR) reached RM's Ashram along with his disciples, saying he will expose the so-called Saint. And MR sat down in front of RM each trying to outgaze the other. Within 2 minutes, the story goes, MR's eyes closed and his head drooped and he fell sound asleep to wake up after a good hour. He then rose picking up his towel and started to go. And his disciples asked him what happened. And he said:

"That chap started reading my mind"

In his pre-obit to me in 2003, Anand Jha, my ex-student, wrote: "GPS talks a LOT". But I am truly never aware of it. That is how it is. Listen to Thurber in his piece: "A Guide to the Literary Pilgrimage":

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"The only famous writer I have ever heard of who did not expect his companion to say anything at all was the late Hendrik Willem van Loon. A friend of mine, who used to ride with van Loon from Stamford to New York several times a week, determined one day on a test. He decided to greet van Loon on the Stamford platform on this particular morning simply with a smile and a handshake and to leave him in Grand Central station the same way, having said no word. He wondered if the great man would catch on to the fact that his companion had not once opened his mouth. The next morning, he again came up to van Loon on the Stamford platform and said, 'That was a fine discussion we had on the train yesterday.' 'It was, indeed,' said van Loon, 'I enjoyed it a great deal.'


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