Friday, June 26, 2015


183. Doctor Manocha. Part One


A man of God died on December 21, 2014. His name was Kundan Lal Manocha. He was in his early eighties. He was my friend since 1983.

He was born in present Pakistan, which was British India at that time. After partition of India in 1947, into present India and Pakistan, the family lived in a refugee camp for about six months. Life was harsh. They were many persons in each tent. There was a blind person in their tent. Sometimes, unknowingly, he would spit in their food, or on other people.

Young Manocha was bright and got admission in medical college. After a while, his father was unable to pay tuition fee. One day a classmate saw him weeping on a bench outside the principal’s office. On enquiry he told his classmate that he was waiting outside to inform the principal that he was going to quit the school. His classmate belonged to a rich family. He agreed to pay his tuition fee. During that time he had two absolutely true dreams which I have described in blog 4; one regarding his marks in premedical examination, and the other about the questions in next day’s anatomy examination.

After becoming a doctor, once he went to distant Calcutta with a bunch of friends for few days for some professional engagement. Just for enjoyment, one evening they took a boat ride in river Ganges and to nearby gardens. Somebody asked them whether they wanted to see the nearby room where the great saint Sri Rama Krishna had lived about seventy years ago. With not a spiritual thought in their heads the noisy young men agreed. As he entered the small room a sudden shiver went through his body. There were other visitors in the room. Everybody was silent, as if they too had experienced something. That experience left an imprint on him.

He found a Guru. He used to refer to him as Bathinda-waalay (from Bathinda). Years later, the now dead Guru came in his dream and said that he had not given him a mantra ( a spiritual incantation ), and gave him a mantra.

Once he went to Vrindavan, the holy town of Lord Krishna. He saw the murti ( idol) of Krishna from a distance. It appeared to him as that of an animal. He mentioned this fact to his Guru, who replied that to a select few the Lord appeared in this form.

On another visit to Vrindavan, his pocket was picked. He found himself penniless in a town far from home. He was filled with fear and anxiety. Suddenly a man addressed him. He said, “Doctor Sahib, how are you doing?” He belonged to the same village where Dr. Manocha was posted as a physician. Dr Manocha told him his story. The man told him not to worry, and gave him enough money to go back. That incident was an eye-opener: in an instant God can make you helpless, and in an instant He can give you back your security. Furthermore, the pickpocket’s needs were also met; maybe he was in desperate need of money.

I met him in a hospital in U.S.A, where he was working as a pulmonary specialist. At retirement, he had achieved the highest rank possible for a physician. He was acting in charge of all the physicians, nurses and dentists working in the hospital. His life was worldly, without any touch of spirituality, except some puja (religious practices) and yoga. During that period, one day he was talking with a hospital employee, named Edith, who was a religious/spiritual lady. She told him that before sleep if one prays for something, and opens one’s Scripture at that point, and then leaves the open book under one’s pillow, the prayer is answered. Dr. Manocha prayed for something (he did not remember what) and put the Gita under his head. He had an obscene dream that night. He reported back to Edith. She said that when a purulent wound is lanced, pus and blood come out first; he should do it again. He repeated the procedure the next night. He had a marvelous supernatural dream, which I have narrated in blog 5. For the sake of continuity I will narrate it, briefly, again.  In the dream he was taken to Puri, India, where Lord Jagannath’s temple is located. He saw an octagonal pool over there. He was dunked in the pool, and was thus spiritually purified. He could, even now, visualize the pool, the blue water with foam on it, and could feel somebody’s hand behind his neck. He had never been to Puri before. Ten year later, he went to India, and went to the temple in Puri. He wanted to verify whether there really was an octagonal pool. After some initial despair he found the pool of his dream, except the water. The guide told him, that this was Lord’s pool. Since Lord does not need water, they had left some water in it just as a token.


To be continued

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