236.Investigators of Truth (InTru)

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 59; the fifty-ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​IndiCreator. For Creators. By Creators.. Share Your #LockdownTales at indicreator.com

17 July 2120. I will never forget this date – that is until they wipe out my memory and recharge me, which is a kind of routine for all of us. This was the day which changed my career, it gave a new direction to my life. It made me what I never thought I would be one day.

To begin with, there was a joint call from DepHeal and DepFam. Well, if by any chance you are from the last century, DepHeal is Department of Health and DepFam is Department of Family. Again, such a joint call is a yearly routine. So, I was not at all alarmed. What floored me was that they told me that Shanti (my great grandmother) was coming home and that too with immediate effect. In fact, they were not waiting for me to pick her up, but were to drop her home in twenty minutes. They did not need that much time to travel 300 kilometers, they were just giving me time to prepare.

Please, do not take me wrong. I like Shanti. To be with her for a day or two is always a fun. She makes me laugh a lot; and she never bores me with the instructions of what I should be doing and what I should not be doing. She shares some of her life experiences – which are more like a fiction, I guess. The resource material that we have does not at all corroborate what she believes as the truth.

But that is natural. Afterall she is 157 years old and she was born and brought up in 20th Century. She is rather independent, and I do not have to look after her. She is not ill. But now all old people (more than 150 years) have to stay in the government HoLCa (that is Home-Like-Care). Once in six months they are supposed to visit their family. That visit had just happened last month and so this call surprised me.   

By the way, I am Ganesh (right, named after a Mythological God in the area which was called India in the past) and I am 12. I am doing postdoc research in Virology.

The SecGd (Security Guards) team dropped Shanti and made me sign (electronically of course, I cannot write with my hands as Shanti can do!) a document. “Why is this unscheduled drop?” I asked. They did not answer. “When are you going to pick up her again?” They ignored me. “Is she kicked out of HoLCa?” I asked. “Check your email. All the details are there. If you find any change in her health status, alert us immediately” one of them responded sharply and they were gone in an instant.

I turned to Shanti. She was calm and smiling. “Did you play any mischief again at HoLCa?” I asked. 

“Nope”, her eyes twinkled. “I am going to tell you something very shocking, so sit down,” she said. “Are you in love again?” I was starting to worry about her calmness, sure sign of a mischief.

“Ah, my falling in love still shocks you! You are incorrigible. But that is not what I am going to tell you,” Shanti said mysteriously.  I was relieved. It must be some story from her past.

“Is there any news in your field of Virology?” Shanti asked. She was always interested in Virology but why is she asking about it after she is suddenly dropped by SecGd?

“Well, you know, there is a new Corona virus emerging from area that was once called China,” she whispered. “Come on Shanti, you know Science has won over the chain of Corona viruses long back. The last known virus came in 2019 and the United World won the war against that virus. Only 26 people died even then and just 1000 had to be hospitalized all over the world. Even in 2020, Corona virus was not a threat. It was a minor flue at the most.” I was happy to explain my favorite topic.

Shanti was stunned. “Where did you get those numbers regarding Corona virus in 2019-20?” she demanded. “Oh, it is everywhere," I showed her online resources.

She was shocked. Her face became pale, she was trembling, tears rolling from her eyes. That was something I had never seen Shanti to be in. What just happened? What did I say or do wrong? Has it triggered some bad memory for her?

We were silent for couple of minutes – which felt like years. I do not know what to say when people give emotional reaction to scientific facts. And why should somebody feel something about a minor incident about a hundred years ago? Did her husband die then? Was he the one amongst the 26 people died? I did not know. I went forward and touched her shoulder from a distance. You know, we avoid human contact as much as possible, but the old guards like human contact.

Slowly Shanti became calm. She looked at me and said, “Ganesh, I respect you. You are an intelligent boy. I do not want to comment on the EduSys (Education System) you thrive on. I don’t know how to tell you but your information about Corona virus in 2019 is completely wrong.”

“What do you mean by wrong? I just showed you references,” I was bit irritated with her now.

Shanti took some time. She took a deep breath. She said, “It is not your fault. The disastrous truth is hidden from all of you very shrewdly and systematically. The truth is replaced by misinformation. In India, where I lived then, we had more than 150 days of #Lockdown. People not only died of Corona, but the economy too died with unplanned and extended series of #Lockdown. There were twenty million affected by Corona virus in the world in 2020 and about a million people died.”

I started laughing. “Shanti, you are funny. But tell me what happened at HoLCa? Why are you dropped here? When are you going back?”

“Two persons died in my HoLCa unit yesterday morning. And their symptoms of breathlessness made me suspect that it was another strain of Novel Corona Virus. One of them had just returned from Wuhan after home visit. You know Wuhan was earlier in the country called China, from where 2019 Corona virus (and some of the earlier viruses) emerged. This man was showing something to the other person on his tablet and the other person had touched the tablet. Moreover, more people developed fever and some lost sense of smell and touch – all this happening within hours. They tested all of us and sent many of us to our homes. There is a #Lockdown at HoLCa. We don’t know how long it will be as we don’t know how many people are infected by this new virus.”

Just to show Shanti that she was imagining something, I opened HoLCa website. Wow, it was closed ‘for maintenance’. This was the first time I have seen HoLCa site closed. I tried to access DepHeal and was surprised to see that access was open ‘only to officials'. DepFam and SegGd websites showed no unusual messages or activities.

I checked with my friends. Sure, everybody’s HoLCa member was dropped home this morning, without any adequate explanation. Everybody thought that it happened only to them and did not check with others.

I was thrilled. Something strange was indeed happening. Is it possible that Shanti is right about the new virus? Is she right about the Corona 2019-20 virus information hidden from the public? Do some people still have the access to it? I needed to check the facts before I could take on the more detailed investigation.

“Do you have some information from 2020, Shanti?” I asked.

She pulled out a small, thin metal stick from her inner pocket. “Do you know how to extract information from this device?” she asked. I did not.  But it took me just fifteen minutes to access the information. It seems that hundred years ago they used this device called pen drive or stick to store information. Shanti had saved this one and somehow had managed to keep her secret. How she did it, I will have to ask her another time. Because the information I see on her drive is shocking and shattering.

For example, look at this site exactly one hundred years ago:

https://www.worldometers.info/coronavirus/

The country called India, where Shanti lived was in a bad shape as well. I can imagine why it stunned her when I said ‘only 26 people died because of Corona Virus 2019’.

“And this was just the middle of the pandemic that you see the data of”, Shanti added. “It took another two years for the world to overcome Corona virus and that too with lot of cost. It is true that we won the war against Corona Virus, but many lives were lost, many lives were destroyed, many were forced to commit suicide. The inequalities and the exclusion in the entire world was as if opened by the Corona virus. It was one of the worst time I have lived through. We would never want to live it again. Even my enemies should not suffer from such a deadly virus. If we indeed have the new strain of the same virus, I am sure Government will declare #Lockdown again, keep on extending it, reducing whatever social interaction we have and hiding information about people in distress.”

“Ganesh, I want your generation to come out of the misinformation loop. If it is a new strain of Corona virus which has killed my colleagues at HoLCa, we are due for another disaster. We need to learn lessons from past generations, past experiences. The World Government will try to hide the information – because after last century disaster, the politician had to face people’s wrath. I know you are very young. But you are not alone. We are many… on the right path, where everybody is treated with respect and dignity.” Shanti went on.

“What do you mean by ‘We’?” I was suspicious. I remember that my parents never liked me to have a good relationship with Shanti. Was she trying to allure me towards something bad? But my parents are complete moron. Both of them are high level Government officials. They want me to give up my interest in Virology. But I never followed their orders. I believe that the right path has less travelers. So be it.

Shanti was smiling again. “We are group of people who deal with misinformation and exploitation related to it. We call ourselves InTru - Investigators of Truth. We make people aware of the truth, collaborate and advocate with policy makers insisting that they share the truth and address the real issues. Would you like to join us? We are old. We badly need young techno-savy people like you. I assure you that saving people from misinformation is as vital as saving them from virus. The choice is yours my boy!”

Of course, I was wise enough not to instantly fall for Shanti’s appeal. Old people are sometimes Utopian. They also want to fulfill their dreams through us. We can’t allow others to dominate our life like that.

I talked to my friends. We checked. We hacked. We cracked websites. We went to libraries. We checked old newspapers (by the way they were printed on papers!!). We discussed. We challenged each other. We prepared ‘Worst Case Scenarios’ and we developed strategies to address various challenges. We had to build security measures around us.

I am sorry to give up Virology. It is  kept in #Lokdown. Now I am an InTru. We are going to shake this power structure (which by the way is based on exclusion, inequality, exploitation etc) and make the world better so that nobody is left behind.

If you are interested in joining InTru, you are most welcome. A secret code is embedded in this post. Crack the code and join the most needed rebellion today.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Show your support for the hastags #BlogATon59 & #LockdownTales. Participation Count: XX.

229. Guess Who?

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 57; the fifty-seventh edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with Madhu Vajpayee, the author of Seeking Redemption and Shades Publications, the publisher of Friendship- Bonds Beyond Time.

Voting day is an important day in sustaining and strengthening Democracy.

There are Different parties and Different slogans.

There are Different promises and Different manifestos.

There are Different faces and Different issues.

Somehow to me, they all look alike. I cannot differentiate between them, not a bit.

As a patriotic citizen, I always register as a voter and I always vote – that is if my name does not miraculously disappear from the list.

Today the magic – black magic I must say – happens again.

My name is not in the list.

I have a Voter Identity Card but probably I won’t be able to caste vote today.

I move from one counter to another counter.

There are many Smart guys using tablets and smart phones, but my name does not appear on any of those screens.

I am getting irritated, frustrated.

I move away from the polling station, cursing the system, cursing the rules.

***

Far away from the polling station, one young man approaches me. Apparently, there is no one else on the road. All that crowd I saw is left behind.

He certainly understands that I have not voted, my face is quite transparent, especially when I am in a problem situation.  So maybe he is going to convince me about ‘importance of voting’ or ‘citizen responsibilities’ or something of that kind.

I can ignore him but I automatically stop so that he can talk to me.

He politely asks, “Can you please hold my hand for a minute?”

I am surprised. I don’t know how to respond to this strange request.

I am not young, but still a man, a stranger asking this question to a woman!  

***

Then I realize that he is offering me a small plastic hand.

It is an election symbol of one of the National Parties in the country.

I forget my frustration and start laughing.

Well, well, now a days this party badly needs someone to hold its hand.

Who will be that? Any guess? 

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221. Letter

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 52; the fifty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with Metro Diaries by "Namrata". To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

After the meeting; women disappeared fast. Except one.  

 “Come to my home,” the middle aged Rakhama mavashi ordered.

I knew so less about her, that I decided to take the opportunity. 

After a cup of tea, she asked, “Can you write a letter for me?”

I was glad to help her. 

She brought a post-card.

She told me what to write. I wrote.

It was clear that she was writing to her husband.

In those ten minutes, I understood the story of her life.

“Address?”  I asked.

“I do not know”, she said. 

“No one knows”, added her little daughter.

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220. DREAM

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 51; the fifty-first edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with Red Ink Publishers and "Curse Of The Red Soil" by Durgesh Shastri. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

It had been a long day. This has been the routine for the last six months.

Shama was feeling very tired. However, today she was in the National Capital to present her project. Unfortunately she had nothing to report – that is- no progress; only challenges!

Shama opened her laptop, there was internet connection, but she did not feel like updating her FB status, nor did she want to tweet or appear on other social networking sites. She looked at the screen without realizing what to do with it!

Shama was not suffering from ‘Status Update’ mania, but she used Social Network to share her experiences, ideas and thoughts.

Shama was not a trained social worker, nor was she a journalist – though people often assumed her to be so. Her sensitivity and her enthusiasm to “make a change” brought her to the field of Development and she liked it. Rural areas, tribal areas, social issues, women, economic development, behavioral change, social capital, community based organizations, participatory development …..  These words and terms became integral part of her life. She lived it and her dream was to live it forever.

Since last few months, Shama was working in one of the remote parts of the country. Initially she was excited with the idea of working in a new area. She liked to take new challenges. Lack of vegetarian food, challenge of communicating in a new language, lack of transport, and lack of basic infrastructure and many such problems did not matter to her. She was fascinated by the project idea of working with girls in primary schools.

Shama sighed. She remembered her visits to school, her interactions with girls, parents and teachers. She had innumerable planning and review sessions with partner NGOs. All that had miserably failed. The funding agency had given number of warnings and opportunities; but people continued “Business as usual”. 

Shama knew that she dreamt about the success of the project, with all her might.

However, when it comes to “Social Change”; individual dream is necessary but hardly sufficient.

Collective Dream shapes destiny of “Social Change”.

“Only if all these people responsible for ‘education of girls’ can dream together about positive change….”, Shama thought to herself and sat listlessly. 

Suddenly she smiled. She had an idea. She realized how she could facilitate the process of collective dream!

Shama turned to her laptop. She started writing “Strategies to address the Challenges”.

Every DREAM wants to LIVE; we need to give it as many chances as we could…….Shama was fluently expressing her thoughts – not in these words; but in the same spirit.

DREAM indeed is powerful!

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218. Soul-Mates

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 50; the fiftieth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Soulmates: Love without ownership by Vinit K Bansal. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

(1)

“Shrirang”, someone was calling very loudly indeed. This was going on for a long time.

Whosoever was this guy, he must have slept like Kumbhkarna- he thought to himself and smiled.  He tried to neglect those shouts. He was irritated that he did not know any person with that name; still that person was in his house; and above all, that person was not responding to the call. It was impossible to sleep now.

He had a shock when he opened his eyes; simply because this was not his house. A glance told him that he was lying on a bed, not in his house but in a hospital. He was surrounded by anxious faces. Except for the doctor and the medical attendant, he knew others well. They were his dear ones; his wife, his daughter and his close friend. What happened to him? Why was he in the hospital?

“Shrirang...” he was startled when Rewa, his wife addressed him as Shrirang! Why was she calling him Shrirang?

 “Rangya! My goodness! How much you frightened us! ” This was his friend Nitin controlling tears. Though Nitin was always an emotional fellow, the tears indicated a serious situation.  But what the hell! Who was this Shrirang cum Rangya?

“Baba… ‘’ his daughter hugged him crying. At other times, whenever she cried, he had to support her. But he realized that today she was trying to assure him. Her innocent gesture made his eyes moist.

 Exactly what the situation was, he was not aware of yet. It was clear that he was not dreaming. He decided to keep quiet until some light was thrown. He feebly smiled at all of them and holding Vedika’s – his daughter’s hand, he closed eyes. 

 “Now, everybody out of this room. He is fine; give him some time to overcome the weakness. Due to medicine, he will continue to sleep, so nothing to worry about. Do not force him to speak. He recognized you all, so relax and let him relax…. ” the fading words of the doctor did not clear his confusion.

*****

(2)

“What is the response of WXK00309100114042012?” he asked.  “Asked” – is not the right word though, because he did not utter a single word. His thoughts were conveyed to others without words. It can be called a ‘wave communication’- if you know what I mean.

“There is no response,” said the second – again without uttering a word but successfully communicating the thought.

WXK00309100114042012 was floating in the room, about four feet above the ground level. From the conversation it was difficult to guess whether the center of the conversation was a woman or a man. But a glance at the floating figure clearly showed that it was a woman they were referring to.  She was looking little different than the other five people in the room. She was more tanned. She was wearing colorful clothes. Her face expressed some emotion that the others were not familiar with.  They were all feeling a little lost by the unexpected development.

“Has our experiment boom-ranged?” asked third, unaware that ‘boom-ranged’ was not the word he wanted to use.

“No, this experiment cannot fail; we had prepared every step so carefully. The object of experiment was tested well. And I guess there was never second opinion regarding capacities of WXK00309100114042012. This was not her first mission, she was specifically chosen because of her hundred percent success record. ”

When others were discussing about WXK00309100114042012, she woke up. Sensing that she was at some different place, she did not immediately open eyes. She instantly recognized the change. She missed the smells, the sounds that were inseparable aspects of her life in the past months. She missed the pleasant morning breeze. Happily though, there was no honking on the road. No aroma of the typical food of the land. No chirping of birds.

She tried to interpret the change. Has she finally reached her Soul-Mate?

Out of curiosity she opened eyes and finding herself floating, she screamed in fear. The five people surrounding her jumped at that deadly scream. Not only in this room, but even in their entire universe they had never heard such screaming. One of them looked at her sharply and she came to her senses. She had completely forgotten that floating was but natural here and there was no fear of her falling down.

She kept quiet. There was some noise around her and the five faces were expectantly looking at her, but the noise was unintelligible to her. She thought: Is the Mission over? Did she meet Babumoshai? Could she finally meet her Soul-Mate? Or was she picked up before that? She knew these people around her, she was sure of that, but she was not sure whether it was wise to trust them. She decided to keep quiet and wait for their move. To be on the safer side, she closed eyes again.

“Do you realize that she is not able to comprehend our communication? That is why she is confused,” said one of them.

“And her face looks so different,” another one added.

“Yes, I referred to Knowledge-Bank. The people of WXK003091 call it Bliss or Satisfaction. But I do not know what it means. Let me explore if there is any live demo of such a face,” added the colleague.

“It is indeed interesting that these people from WXK003091 give a name to everything when their knowledge of numbers is even much better than ours,” another colleague said in a surprised tone. Waves of agreement did spread in the room.

“But how could she forget our language in such a short span? She was not only trained but she is the expert of our language. And she was away for such a short time. I find it strange.  ” murmured the third colleague.

“Do not forget that time is relative; not absolute. Also, we picked her from WXK003091 very suddenly, much before her departure was planned. Our plan was going wrong, she was taking initiative beyond the scope of the Mission, and we were forced to hurry. The Space-lag must have affected her.  ” Someone said. Everybody kept quiet, so that must be their Chief.

“Ok. Let us talk to her in the language of WXK003091. I am sure that will work,” he ordered.

“WXK00309100114042012, do you hear me? You are safe here, you are home. Will have detailed Mission Report later, but give me the summary,” the Chief was speaking in soft tone.

WXK00309100114042012 opened eyes. She very well understood the words Safe, Home, Mission and Summary. But what was this WXK00309100114042012?

“My name is Aatmajaa and this is not my Home,” she said clearly.

For the second time within last five minutes, they were shocked.

“What a mess! We had given her some WXK003091 type of name, but certainly it was not this. Check the records immediately. And what were you all doing? She has changed the name, and if the password too has been changed then we have badly failed. Good that we picked her up before time. Hope the Mission is still a secret! ” Chief was indeed worried. 

*****

(3)

Shrirang returned home from the hospital. Doctor had advised him to take rest for two weeks. After couple of days, he forced Rewa to resume office. Anyway, Rewa left home at 9.00 in the morning and Vedika returned from school at 1.00 in the afternoon. In the meantime he was not alone but Surekhabai the old maid cum caretaker was at home. He was physically ok but still confused about his identity. Since everyone was calling him Shrirang, he had accepted that it was his name. But he was sure that if somebody asked him his name, he would say ‘Babumoshai’- because that indeed was his name. He did not know Bangla, so from where this name came he did not know. And though it was his name, no one else around him seemed to know it! Why? Who gave him this strange name? How did he get the identity? Who did this? For what purpose? He was tired of thinking. He was frightened – of the unknown and known both.

Slowly, in pieces of talks he learnt about what happened to him. As a Social Science expert he was working with a Research Team in Satpuda range. Dhadgaon had been his second home for last couple of years. Many times he used to go alone to different villages for interactions with communities. On that day, someone saw him lying on the Akkalkuva-Molagi road and by checking on the last call in his mobile, informed his colleague. He was hospitalized immediately. But what caused his fall, he could not tell.

He pulled his laptop. Yes, Gmail account immediately opened, he must have saved the password. Hmm… well, his name, as the doctor had called him was Shrirang Jadhav; no more confusion about that. He checked number of ‘Get Well Soon’ messages and he knew all those people.

He kept on going back. And then he stopped. There was an email from Aatmajaa, his new online friend. After reading one of her articles on ‘Tribal Women in Satpuda’ on a Marathi website, he had written to her. They had exchanged number of messages. She was a good writer. More than that Satpuda was a common object of love for them. She called Satpuda her ‘Soul-Mate’ and coincidently he felt the same about that ancient mountain range. There was nothing to hide about his friendship with Aatmaja. Even Rewa liked her writing.

At that moment Shrirang remembered that it was Aatmajaa, who called him ‘Babumoshai’. Initially he had protested. He hated to have a pet name given by someone whom he had never met and that too by an unknown woman!  He was a stalwart in the virtual world and knew how to protect himself from all those tempting virtual relationships. He had never been wrong so far. But his protest became week. First he just accepted to be called as ‘Babumoshai’ and later he actually liked the name.

After reading her mail, he remembered that Aatmajaa was in Molagi and on that particular day and he was going to Molagi to meet her. But as he had some mysterious accident, they could not meet. But what happened to her? Why there was no message from her? He checked Inbox again. Since that day there was no message from her. Oh! She might be angry – he thought. He called her and was surprised to hear “this number does not exist”. He checked the website where Aatmaja used to write regularly, but no clue of her appearance after that day! Shrirang realized that he did not know any other person who had any information regarding Aatmajaa.

Was this a mystery? No, it must have been a joke played by some duplicate id in the virtual world! Shrirang was angry with himself for his foolishness. He deleted all the messages from Aatmajaa. The sooner he forgot her, the better.

*****

(4)

“Ok. Let WXK00309100114042012 take her time. In the meantime brief me, Observation Team,” ordered the Chief.

“These are preliminary inferences and we need to confirm with WXK00309100114042012 before arriving at conclusions,” cautioned the team head. Others nodded in agreement.

1.    People on the planet WXK003 and especially those in the location of 091 have special affinity for names – which apparently is something more than an identity number. We need to focus more on whether the perspective changes based on the sex of the person. In this case both – our colleague and the fellow from 091 seem to be equally influenced by the new name.

2.    But it remains to be seen whose influence is long lasting and we have to take caution that it does not destroy the person. We have to follow the ‘Right to Life’ treaty.

3.    There is an indication that people on the planet WXK003 and especially those from area 091 are in search of a more meaningful identity. What has triggered this quest is not yet clear. Is it part of their living experience (it is called ‘tradition’ in their language) or it is impact of coming into the contact with new world is a matter of further research.

4.    It is interesting to see how technology can create identity crisis. And in this case we just used a very primitive technology called internet. Imagine what will be the impact with our progressive technology.

5.    Many using internet on WXK003 seem to have two words – virtual and real. They seem to play advantage for some but not for others. We need in depth research for understanding conflict of identities in those who are part of virtual world. Also, what are the identity crisis situations in Real world? So, we also need to study primitive people who do not use any modern technology. The important question is how to reach this second group?

“One minute,” interrupted the Chief. “What was that place where she was going to meet him without our knowledge? That was not the plan. So, what is the mystery of that place? Tell me the coordinates, yes, the way they record it,” he added.

“It is 21°59′N 74°52′E and it is called Satpuda range.  ” explained one.

“Hmm... interesting! Another place, another name, seems to be a mystery place.” Added the Chief and he continued browsing for about ten minutes, others remained silent.

“Amazing. Most intelligent. That is why I appreciate WXK00309100114042012. She is so creative and courageous. Ok. Scrap the earlier Mission. We were completely wrong about our hypothesis. However, since it provided us this new direction, it has not failed. Now we need to move on. ” None could follow the thought process of the Chief.

“What next?” somebody asked.

“New Beginning! While designing this new Mission, do not repeat the earlier mistakes. These fellows from WXK003 are a different entity altogether. They have tremendous capacity to feel and to think. Their mind is the key and we cannot succeed by destroying the key. ”

“And yes, WXK00309100114042012 will be the Mission Leader. Do not change her id. ”

Then the Chief turned to WXK00309100114042012, she was still floating with closed eyes. “What name you would like to give to this Mission, Aatmajaa?” he asked.

“Soul-Mates,” she answered.

And she smiled.

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