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
