The lineman

Life became lifeless because there was no electric power supply in the town from morning. Failure in power supply had pushed life into hibernation mood. All day long people complained and got impatient. They complained about the department, about the lineman and about the Government because they were good at complaining.

Time ticked off. The evening approached and simultaneously darkness thickened. But soon the darkness vanished. The evening market glittered with neon lights. Everybody felt fresh and active while buying and selling things in the town market. The A/C showrooms and colossal glow signboards suddenly filled the atmosphere with dream qualities. The evening became pleasant and everybody started enjoying the pleasant evening.

At a distance from the hustle and bustle of the town life there was a small asbestos roofed house, which belonged to the lineman of that locality. That evening he was dog tired. All day long hard work had consumed every atom of his strength. He flung himself onto the bed.

That day he had worked very hard to find the electrical fault and at last he had been successful to make the power supply stand. By the evening his face had become pale and colorless out of over-tiredness but the town was smiling and looked colorful.

The lineman was fast asleep. He was so tired that he could not even utter his evening prayers. He had switched on neither the fan nor the TV nor the CFL bulb. But he slept in a deep dream of peace. In his dream he saw someone lighting a splendid candle in his room which was hitherto dark. With the rays of that candle he saw his Lord smiling at him and lighting the candle to full bloom.

The poor child cried pointing at the mango.

Like every ordinary day the greengrocer opened his shop and wiped his fruits and vegetables with a wet cloth to give them an extra-shine. That was a Tuesday, the weekly market day and the shop keeper had 3 baskets full of luscious mangoes as the piece de resistance of his shop.

Many wayfarers and buyers were enchanted by the vibrant colour and freshness of those tropical fruit. They would stop at the shop for a while to pick some luscious mangoes. Among the many buyers, there stood a poor woman with her three children. In her right hand she had a crumpled 10 rupee note. When the other buyers left the shop, she asked the shop keeper in a low voice to give her a mango. And her 3 children were greedily looking at those shinning fruit.

The shop keeper did not give her a mango but told the woman that a single mango would cost her 25 rupees. She now got convinced that the mango was beyond her reach. She left the shop silently and sorrowfully but the young one among her children gave a cry pointing at the fruit.

The poor child cried because he did not know that India was the largest producer of mangoes in the world but INFLATION and FOREIGN EXPORT had made the fruit only for the rich.

N.B. The Photo is downloaded from the blog   Lefts and Rights of  Suzhou

Perhaps you changed your SIM with a change of heart.

I have been waiting for you in the park everyday at 5 pm for the last 3 days. Today is the fourth day but you do not turn up.
It has been more than a week since we last met.
I clearly remember how you waved your hands at me last time.
That day somebody phoned you and you waved your hands at me.

You have became more and more busy these days.
Now you have no time for me.
But we are always close to each other.
Because by pressing your numbers I can ring your heart.
I love your sweet "helloes".

Now I have learnt to substitute your physical presence with your mobile presence
And I think you are always with me.
But from yesterday evening my calls are responded with a voice that says
“The number you are trying is either switched off or out of coverage area”
Perhaps you changed your SIM with a change of heart.

The Joy Of Strings

The musician plucked the strings and a beautiful melody swept across the world. The music spread through the naughty wind and the musician dedicated his song to the divine creator who held everybody’s strings in his hands. The musician’s eyes were closed but the strings deeply felt the vibes of a truly thankful human heart. Through the strings a human heart spoke to God the language of eternal gratitude.

A lover was near his beloved. The night approached and the love between them thickened into deep intimacy. The lover admiringly pulled the strings of the lady’s top and planted a hot kiss on the half-open breasts. The strings were let loose and deeply felt how the breaths of two human beings mingled. 

That was a birthday. A boy gave a piece of cake to his friend and his friend gave him a packed with golden colored strings tied to it. The birthday was over and in the stillness of night when the birthday boy opened the golden strings he found a loving heart that gently whispered, “In your friend’s chest I continuously beat for you.” The golden strings listened to the nice words and really felt fortunate to wrap such invaluable human sentiments in a packet.

It was Raksyabandhan; a sister condensed all her love for his brother in a piece of string and tied it on his brother’s wrist wishing him a long prosperous life. Neither the brother nor the sister spoke anything. The sister was also holding a lamp and it was emanating its sacred light. Both the brother and sister smiled and the strings could keenly feel that how closely they tied two human hearts for all times to come.  

A Young Boy Was Standing With a Young Girl Close to That old man.

The evening sun was sinking below the horizon. And the dying rays of that fading sun were falling on an old man. He was sitting on a dilapidated wooden bench at the bus station. He was bent over a half-opened biscuit packet and his trembling hands slowly and painfully put bits of biscuits in his toothless mouth. He had to eat because life was still in him and that day he had only those biscuits with him to eat. He was helpless because old age had robbed all his strength. He appeared like a lonely scarecrow which was left alone on a deserted field after the harvest. 

The sun completely faded and a shower of rain covered the bus station with layers of mud. The people in the bus station huddled themselves under the station roof for shelter. Now many people stood around that old man but nobody had time to take interest in that old man. The hurry of the average man to collect tickets from the counter, the deafening noise of horns and motor vehicles had successfully obscured the old man’s feeble presence. 

A young boy was standing with a young girl close to that old man. The girl was like a smiling flower and the boy was like a dancing river. They talked with each other on the notes of a young love. In the eyes of the boy there was deep appreciation for the girl and the girl had wholehearted acceptance. Their heads bent over each other and they looked to the distant lands with millions of dreams in their eyes.       

The buses were drawing impressions of their tyres on the wet ground. And the love between the pair was getting deeper and deeper…….

A honk of the horn from a bus startled the love-pair. The girl had to board that bus. She reluctantly approached the bus. By that time her eyes were full of tears. She was no more a smiling flower. The boy stood still like an iced up river. After the final call of the departing bus the girl had to board the bus. She waved her pretty hand to the boy. The boy blew a kiss in the air …….

The bus went away drawing a neat impression of its tyres on the wet ground. And the boy was left alone in a thoughtful silence, grief-stricken and desolate. The old man drew closer to the boy and asked, “Do you really love that girl?” The boy was very sad and with a shaky voice told, “Yes”. The old man offered a piece of biscuit to the boy and told, “Treasure today’s memory in your heart safely. Because it is the most precious gift that Time and Life can fetch you. Time robs everything. Time erodes everything but it cannot rob the true feelings of love. And when you come to my age, you may realise that the flash of such a memory can enlighten a dying old man.”