A Chance Meeting with the King

Today I met the King. I asked him, Sir, so what are you doing here? I hold him by his hand and persuaded him to speak up, as I felt he was a bit timid to speak up.
Then he started to explain to me in his soft voice what he was doing. He narrated to me how he solved the issues of an old lady whose farm land was messed up by the shelling of neighbouring Kingdom. He told me how he has ensured that all the children in the Kingdom have food, shelter, cloths and education. He started to tell me how he is going to re-build the roads that were in pathetic condition due to the heavy rains, within a week.
Impressed, I patted him on his shoulder and hugged him lovingly. As I was leaving I blessed him with these words: "Go on my boy... Go on with your good works... May God bless you." As I walked on, he stood there folding his and his head bowed down towards me...

Captain of the Stationary Ship

Help... The captain cried aloud from the deck! But there was no one left in the ship to hear him!
***
The ship was the gift of the Sultan to his daughter. She wanted the ship to set sail with the best crew and sailors, travel around the world and bring all possible precious things for her. She chose the best people for everything. But for the captain, she let her dad to decide.
He sent his newly recruited aide, a young and polite man. With his stories and lectures about many things he impressed the Sultan very much. So the Sultan thought he could help the ship to accomplish the missions of the princess.
***
The ship set sail and it moved into the sea. The first day, the sea was calm and the sailing was safe. But the next day the sea was rough. The crew was struggling hard to steer the ship clear of the high waves. Everyone was terrified but not as bad as the captain, the Sultan's aide.
He then came to the deck and commanded with the crew to keep the ship anchored. Though the experts in the crew tried to convince him, he did not listen to them but asked them just to obey him, the captain.
Then on, the captain took charge and took the ship according to his whims and fancies. Most of the time the ship was not moving. It was anchored. He sent good reports everyday, about the progress of the ship to the Sultan and his daughter without fail. They trusted the reports and were happy. In her dreams the princess saw the ship coming back with loads of Gold, Silver, Silk, Indian Spices and many other precious things.
Everyday, the captain lectured about new things to impress the crew. He came up with new strategies and plans for the sail, and changed all of them or at least part very soon. The crew was confused. They sensed the peril. The smart ones jumped out of the ship. As days passed by everyone left the captain and the anchored ship. Some of them joined other ships and sailed all over. A few of them swam back to the shore and made small boats and made a living by fishing.
But the captain never left the ship. Because he never knew how to swim!

A Ride into the Rain

It was raining when I stepped out of the office. The monsoon has covered the city like a dark blanket, which caused the sun to bid bye for the day too early.
As I was walking towards my bike, I saw people cursing the rain, as it made them "totally immobile." Their "frustrations" made me smile.
I put on my rain coat and headgear. Started the bike and ventured in to the rain... I felt as if the monsoon were embracing me with its loving hands. I felt the love and "warmth" of the rain. As I rode into depth of the night and the rain, I forgot all the stress and pains that used to haunt me...
Yes... God was washing away my pains with a blissful rain...

Renunciation

He knew from his early childhood itself what he wanted in his life. He was born a musician. His parents realised his taste for music and they put him under the tutorship of great musicians. As he grew up he mesmerised everyone with his skills. He earned fame as a great composer. Fans and money followed him. He travelled with his troupe all over the world. The world waited for the release of his albums. The big wigs in the music industry waited for months, and sometimes years, for his date.
But one day he chanced to meet a sage in one of the Himalayan villages. They had a chat. Since then he began to ponder deeply over the life and its meaning.

A few weeks later he closed his studio. Left his palatial residence. Left his parents and friends. And took up a job with a corporate.

Back to life

It was a cold evening and like many of you, I hated to step out
into a cold winter evening. But as you know, in most cases
our journeys are destined to be in unfavourable weather,
paths and along with people whom we don’t like. I was
walking as fast as I could to reach home. Each cell in my body
was yearning to be home. But then I stumbled on something
and almost fell over it. And in the dying rays of the setting sun
I found someone lying on the street next to me. Is he dead?
When I observed closely, I found some feeble signs of life in him. I thought I would give it a try to bring him back to life. I don’t know why I decided to “waste” my time for a stranger in that dirty place braving the cold wind!
I learned that he needed my help to breathe again. I covered his mouth with mine and blew hard... Lo! The darkness thickened around us as I saw some words entering his dying soul. He shivered as if he was electrocuted. He began to shower abusive words on me. I was embarrassed, but continued to breath into his soul. He spewed more abusive words at me. The process went on for a while and gradually he began to breath on his own. He started weeping and slowly he sat up. He looked deep into my eyes and cried again like a child...
When I left him that evening he was chanting some words like in fit. Though I could not understand what he uttered, those words spread fragrance around us.
****
Today I am attending a book-signing event by an author as his special guest. His books are known for its fragrance of love and kindness.

Sanity

It was not just another day for me. My daughter is grown enough to move out and be on her own. Today is the day for which she was waiting for all these years. All her hard work and sacrifices are paid off and she got the job she hunted. I am proud of my brilliant daughter...

The train started moving. My eyes were welled up with tears. As I was leaving her hands, I told her “Don't confine yourselves inside the room in the name of safety. Go out! Be it day or night! Wander through the streets! Breath the fresh air without fear. Pay deaf ear to those who tell you to lock yourself up in your room in the name of safety! Go out my child... go out!”

My child is going to Delhi. Don't call me insane for seeing her off with these words! If you call me insane, I say you are insane.

Dilemma

As I was helping out my niece, Nayana, to finish her school project on Dandi March, I was wondering how the freedom fighters struggled to keep them bound to the vow of non violence and peace as they were being beaten to the pulp.

Down the memory lanes of history the struggle for Indian Independence has been the source of courage and inspiration for many freedom fighters including Martin Luther King and Nelson Mandela. After much explorations in the sea of knowledge the internet offered, we finished the project pretty well and retired to bed.

That night, in my dreams I met many heroes of the freedom struggle, especially those unsung heroes who lost their lives clinging to the mantra of ahimsa to their heart. The chanting of bhajans in the morning prayer session of Mahatma came as a lullaby and I had a sound sleep. In the morning, as I took the newspaper, the main news was about the historic launch of India’s first nuclear-powered ballistic missile submarine.

After reading it my niece asked me with a sheepish smile, "Uncle should I be proud of the "ahimsa" or "arihant"? and I was answerless.

For sale

Lalithamma came home complaining that Sandu, her college going son, had lost his sleep for the last couple of days.
When asked, she said Sandu is very upset, as his friend Vinu's mother is going to donate her kidney to pay off the debts.
.....
Saranya, Vinu's elder sister turned 20. Her mother wanted her to be given in marriage soon. The marriage broker came with the proposal. He asked Twenty Thousand and 10 Sovereigns of Gold as "gift" for the proposed boy (I don't use the word "dowry"! It can take me to the authorities!)

The poor mother had to borrow from many people, including a Gold Jewellery owner.
Saranya leads almost a happy life with her husband. Thank God!
----
A year went by, Vinu's mother could not pay off the debts. The Gold Jewellery owner asked her to pay back the money, otherwise he would take legal actions against Saranya, as she is the signee in the promisory note.

The mother found no other way but to "sell" her organ to pay off the debts. The docs asked her to take a months complete rest to be healthy enough to undergo the surgery.
------
A poor, unhealthy mother is going to sell her kidney... to pay off her debts!!

The Moral Cops

The moral cops had no sleep in the night. Theyhad to devise an effective plan to chastise the sheep that went astray. At last they decided.... to kill!!

........

Rema was eking out a living by giving home tuition for children of well to do families. With her hard earned money she could giver her own children a healthy and happy living.

But her husband, a drone that he was, lived for smoking, drinking, and roaming around without doing anything. He was jealous of his wife, and it was sprouted and flourished in his idle mind. He had to depend his wife for everything. He felt he was inferior to her. But she never thought so.

It was he, who complained first, of his wife's character. He did not spoke about it with her, but with the neighbors. He said that she had affairs with other men.

It had its powerful effect in the vicinity. People started spreading roumours about Rema. They had their eyes always on her.


The youngsters kept night vigil. They waited in the night on the terraces of the nearby houses. They were waiting for her "secret companions who come only in the night." Thy wanted to catch them red handed. But they could not find any one. They got angry and pelted stones at her house. Her husband, joined them for all these and he enjoyed all these.

The next day, the moral cops, prepared a mass petition that alleged Rema to be a prostitute, and got it signed by her neighbors. They wanted Rema to be punished for immoral trafficking. They wanted her to bow her head, helplessly before them.

At last she had to!

........

Even in her trials and tribulations nobody ever saw Rema crying.
She never hate her husband.
She worked hard for her family, until she was brutally molested and beaten to death by the moral cops, the "sentinels of the society."

After 1pm

There were a lot of smiling faces around us.
They sat beside us with compassion and love. They wiped our tears. They laughed when we laughed. They shared their meal with us. Sang for us and gave us gifts.
When they reached at 10 am, we could not mingle with them. But soon they stole our hearts. By noon we became like a family. Joy and laughter all around.

Then the clock struck 1.
They all began to pack up hurriedly. They were too busy doing it, even to look at us. We tried to talk to them. But they did not. They did not even smile. They seemed as if they were in the wrong place. They finished packing within seconds.
They said good bye to the orphanage's manager. They drove away to their next destination, a water theme park.

Now, they're gone...
We're left behind, now by them too...
And now, after 1pm, everything in this orphanage is same as they were before 10 am.
It's pale, colourless, as the lives of the inmates like me.

Twelve years down the memory lane...

It was yet another ordinary day for me. I got ready and rode my bike to office. From the parking area I walked to office. Suddenly my eyes caught sight of something precious for it!! Oh my!! Lo! there stands Sweta!!

My eyes welled up with tears of happiness. There were the vivid pictures of sweet moments of twelve years down the memory lane.

The corridors of the training college were echoing with cheerful songs & laughters. There was fun and fights... friends & foes like Sweta, Romy, Saj, Shajin, John, Williams, and myself...

We learned how to channelise our talents for the good of the society. Learnt how to react powerfully. Learnt how to use the pen creatively, how to be with the wounded and helpless and ease or share their pains. We were learning to be responsible humanbeings.

We made fun of each other. We lauded each others victories. We shared our failures. Stood with the losers. There were fights between us. The more we fought the more our relationship got strong. There, be it friend or foe, everyone loved everyone. Words transcended their meanings, identity transcended and we were a "big one."

And then it was time for us to bid farewell & take our own paths... Now the time has brought me & Sweta together on the cross roads again... I didn't've to take even a second to recognise Sweta & memorise her name.

On the busy street we shared around five minutes together. Hearts throbbing... I did not ask for her contact nor did she. It'd be like asking for one's own contact.

And then it was time for us to bid farewell & take our own paths, hoping the time will bring us again together on the cross roads of life...

Thank God...

Chillamma, the Widow!

A two wheeler hit a dog and left him badly hurt. He was almost dying. The dog was abandoned by his master. He threw the dog on the streets.

Chillamma saw the abandoned animal and decided to feed him during his "last days." But for good or bad the dog came back to life and health.

He did not go back to his master again. He became loyal to Chillamma. He became very protective of Chillama and her two kids.

Chillamma was a young widow with two kids.

The dog had a problem. He was angered by the very sight of two-wheelers. Whenever a two wheeler passed by he'd try to frighten the riders. Many got hurt, as they fell on the road. Then they'd curse and scold Chillamma and her kids.

Once it was the turn of two policemen to be frightened and they tumbled down from the bike and got hurt. They came down heavily on Chillamma. The "keepers of the law and order" shouted at the lady and the kids, knowing that she cannot say any thing back, but to cry. They did not give a chance to Chillamma to defend hereself. They threatened her if she did not lock the dog they'd "do what is needful".

The impact of the incident was so bad that the kids could not write their exams next day. They failed.

Now Chillamma wants to get rid of the dog, but doesn't want to kill it. She isn't able to get anybody's help to find out someone to adopt the dog. Because if she talks to anyone about it, that would leave many a eyebrow raised. Because she is a widow!! An Indian widow!!.

The society will be watchful of her. Not to protect, but to find fault.

Chillamma, though in need of help, does not complain to anyone of her woes.

Every day has it's bitterness and toughness in store for Chillamma since the death of Maran, her husband. She's a widow!! An Indian widow!!

There's so much for an Indian widow to take care in the society!! There's a lot she must not do... There’s a lot she must do...

She's so cautious of her widowhood. She is so scared of the society that would blame her if it finds that she interacts with others, especially men. What a pity!! What a society!!

Taj Mahal

I don't want you to vote for Taj to get it a place among the seven wonders....
I don't want to beg to others to vote for Taj...

If it's actually a wonder the people naturally will know it...
If it's not, naturally people won't...

But we... we know it's a wonder....

Let it continue to be the subject of wonders....
Let it shine in the minds of many who love the art...
Let it shine in the minds of many who love a monument of love...

Waiting...

Sheila was waiting for Niran, out side the railway station with a pounding heart. She was waiting for this day for the past five years.
The train came and almost all the passengers came out.... It started to rain too... but Niran never showed up. A car went past her. She heard a someone crying for help from within that car. She ignored it as she was looking for Niran.

..........

Niran couldn't recognise the people around him inside the car. It was dark too.... Only he could know that he was mistaken for someone else. They were asking questions to which he couldn't answer. He was tortured.... He gradually fainted...

..........

Years went by...
Sheila was waiting for Niran, out side the railway station with a pounding heart...

Empty Pocket?!!

Nilan began to tell me his story :

"People could not recognise me easily. Even if they did they simply ignored me. Actually it was easy for them to remember a person like me by the wounds in my face and arms -most of them the aftermaths of drug abuse and street fights. Most of the time I was boozed (I say 24x7 a week.) I talked like children as I had to strive hard to control my tongue because of the booze.

I start my operation by winning the heart of the fellow travellers in the public transport; mostly buses. I help them to get a seat in the crowded bus or tell them the exact stop where they want to alight.

There'll be two or more assistants for me in the operation. We will never talk to each other inside the bus. So the people will not know the tie between us. The assistants would squeeze, push, and pull the passenger-the prey. They would make him really get annoyed.

Sitting or standing closer to him I would scan his pocket thoroughly. Then my "tool"- my index finger & and middle finger - will go into his pocket. The poor prey can't even see this as the assistants will make him busy with resisting the "troubles" created by them. They'd cover his pocket from his sight. So the operation is not a risky one for me. I can do it at times without the help of the assitants too. Once the "tool" finishes its job the pocket will be left empty.

Now we move to the next prey, or bus."


He finished his story and left.
I smiled when I realilised that his "tool" had left my pocket empty too...

Sorry Nanda

..And Now you must know the truth Nanda...

On that day I recognised you , but I passed by you as if I didn't...
You looked the same as you used to be during our childhood days...

I didn't want to "waste" the "precious" time with an "old buddy."
I had to meet someone "more important" than you....
(see how I've learnt successfully to use the word "important" wisely over the years!!)

The memories of the days we were together is hurting me since then...You know why...
I disguised myself a stranger to you... and without looking at you I went past you....
I had to do it because of the person I've become now...
Because I'm not what I'm....

So I hate myself to be what I'm....