The missing signature

I had a distant maternal uncle who was a great occultist. His name was Tara Charan. Once my mother had to go to him. She had been to see him many, many times, but that time there was a serious problem. It involved my father and my mother’s second cousin, whom I called uncle. Unfortunately, my uncle was wicked to the backbone. He was a vagabond who did not do anything. He had a wife and children, but it was my father who had to take care of them.

My father gave this uncle money to open up a small grocery store so that he could support his family. But my uncle used to squander money and would not pay the bills. My father felt very sorry for him, and wrote to him on a postcard, “Whenever you are in financial trouble, you tell me, and I will immediately send money.” Then he signed the card and put the date. From time to time, my father did send money privately to my uncle, but my father did not own the business.

In due course, my uncle went bankrupt and his creditors began to hound him. All along, he had kept my father’s postcard because he planned some day to use it in court to prove that my father was responsible for his debts. Now that his creditors were suing him, my uncle said to his lawyer, “I have written proof that my venerable cousin, Shashi Kumar Ghosh, will help me whenever I am in financial difficulty. Now I am not able to pay the creditors, so it is entirely his responsibility.” And he handed his lawyer the postcard. The lawyer thought that they would definitely win the case.

The case went to court, and it seemed that my father would be obliged to pay all the exorbitant debts my uncle had incurred. My father at that time was running his own bank, and he was quite well to do. But there were many people to whom my uncle owed money, so my father was unwilling to pay.

When the final day of the case dawned, my mother went to my maternal uncle, the occultist. He was very fond of my mother and our whole family. My mother was crying bitterly. She told him about the postcard with my father’s signature that was now in the possession of my uncle’s lawyer. Both morally and legally my father would be held responsible, especially morally, because he wrote the postcard. When my maternal uncle heard the whole story from my mother, he said, “Don’t worry; nothing will happen. I will take care of it.” My mother had faith in him and told my father not to worry.

In the court, my uncle’s lawyer said, “Shashi Kumar Ghosh has promised my client that he will be fully responsible for any financial obligations. Here is the proof of his promise. Now he is refusing to honour it.”

O God, when the postcard was shown to the judge, what happened? My father’s handwriting and everything was there, but the signature was missing. The signature had been totally deleted.

From a distant Indian village the occultist had removed the signature just before the judge looked at the postcard.

The judge looked at the postcard and immediately said, “There is no signature.”

My father and our family lawyer could not believe their eyes and ears. They had thought it was a hopeless case. They also looked at the postcard and saw that the signature was indeed missing.

Then the judge said to my father, “Let me see your handwriting. Kindly write out what is in the letter.”

When my father started to write, something extraordinary happened. Instead of his own hand, all of a sudden he saw my occultist maternal uncle’s hand holding the pen and writing in a completely different way. Occultly my uncle wrote in such a way that there was no resemblance to my father’s own handwriting.

The judge said that since there was no resemblance to my father’s handwriting, my father did not even write the postcard. It must have been written by somebody else. My uncle started cursing the judge. Then our lawyer said, “Even if he wrote it, as you insist, where is the signature? His signature is not there. And the postcard was with your lawyer, not with us.”

So we won the case.

Sri Chinmoy, To the streaming tears of my mother's heart and to the brimming smiles of my mother's soul.First published by Agni Press in 1994.

This is the 975th book that Sri Chinmoy has written since he came to the West, in 1964.

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by Sri Chinmoy
From the book To the streaming tears of my mother's heart and to the brimming smiles of my mother's soul, made available to share under a Creative Commons license

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