The Mystical Mr. B

Frankly, I cannot understand how I stumble upon extraordinary people with extraordinary powers. Not that I was in search of or desperate to meet such people; it happened.

My parents lived in Delhi with my brother while I lived in Agra and worked for an insurance company. I was having problems at my workplace. By a strange coincidence, it so happened that my troubles started immediately after I had shifted to Agra from Lucknow. Was there something wrong about the city? Could it be that the house in which I lived ( a company owned flat) was haunted? My predecessor too had significant problems in this house. His wife kept falling ill, and he too faced challenges at work. The fact was that he left Agra as he was not comfortable there. All this led me to reluctantly believe that something could be wrong with the house.

It was during one of my visits to Delhi to meet my parents that my father told me about Mr Balasubramaniam, (Mr B). He told me that Mr B was a man with magical powers. Had it not been for my father and someone else, I would have rejected this statement outright. My father was not superstitious or religious, and he had never believed in magic or even destiny. So, when he told me that Mr B possessed magical powers, my curiosity was piqued, and I listened to his story.

Mr B was as ordinary a human being as any of us. Like my father, Mr B was neither fanatically religious nor did he believe in magic and mumbo-jumbo. In fact, had it not been for the ailing Mrs Chakravarty, Mr B would never have spoken about his powers.

Mrs Chakravarty was bedridden for a long time with some strange illness that even the best doctors found hard to cure. She lived in the same colony and it was Mr Chakravarty, her husband, who would tell his senior friends about her during their daily walks in the evening. My father and Mr B were part of these evening walks. One day, when Mr B abruptly requested to visit Mr Chakravarty’s house to see his ailing wife, everyone agreed.

The group of elders trooped to Mr Chakravarty’s flat and even as they sat sipping tea in the drawing-room, Mr B got up and walked towards the room where Mrs Chakravarty was confined. This move seemed unusual to other elders, including my father. Mr Chakravarty hastily hurried after Mr B as he was entering the bedroom.

Mrs Chakravarty was lying on the bed, groaning in pain. Mr B stood before the bed and stared at the ailing woman for a while. He then took out a necklace of mercury beads from his pocket, put it around his neck and closed his eyes.

My father and the rest of the elders had also joined Mr Chakravarty and Mr B in the room now. They all stood transfixed at Mr B. What was he doing? What was he up to? What was wrong with this otherwise humble and silent soul?

Mr B, by now, was in a state of agitated anxiety. He opened his eyes, turned to Mr Chakravarty and said:

“Do you have any copper wire in your house?”

Mr Chakravarty looked stunned. Copper wire? He was about to ask his friend “why?”, when he remembered that he had put some loose insulated wires in a box, to be used when required. These wires were made of copper. He went out and returned with a long wire.

Mr B peeled off the insulation and twist the wire into a thread. He then cut the wire into four pieces and tied each one around the patient’s wrists and ankles. This finished, they trooped out of the room.

“Mr B. What have you done to my wife? Why did you tie copper wire on her wrists and ankles?”

“Mr Chakravarty, please do not ask me anything. Let us wait for a few days and see what happens.”

My father and others were nervous when they discovered that Mr B himself did not know what he had done. They had seen Mr B take out some necklace and wear it before he asked for the wire. Was there something in the necklace? Some magic? Why was Mr B reluctant to speak anything about it or the wires? What if something bad happened to the sick lady?

Mr Chakravarty reported after 48 hours that his wife could now sit up in the bed. Something she had not done for years! Every subsequent evening, he began reporting progress in her health and in 15 days he joyfully shared the news that his wife had walked!

Who cured Mrs Chakravarty? More importantly, how could Mr B perform this miracle? We will continue this strange, but true tale of Mr B in the next part.