Each day his hopes went on growing till the harvest time

Human sweat and blood mixed with the untilled soil. The labour, the aching muscles and a little rain sprouted into slender green leaves. With each day, new hopes grew in the form of the green plants. The sweating farmer looked smilingly at the growing crops and inhaled the fresh breeze that came over the undulating field.

The pulls of the bullocks, the weight of the plough and the commitment of the ploughman to the soil had all gone into the field to produce the food for the millions. The farmer hoped to present new clothes to his wife and child this season. He hoped to clear his debts. He hoped to live a life with a little warmth.

Each day his hopes went on growing till the harvest time but one day the sky announced a heavy rain with dark clouds and thunder bolts. His leaking roof had wetted the floor. A stream of muddy rain water was flowing by his half demolished hut and another farmer was listening to the radio that reported,” The continuous rain has devastated 20% of the crop of the country. The P.M. has called for a high-level meeting in this regard.”

The next day the local dailies published that the shattered hopes and utter desperation of a starving peasant ends in a bottle of poison.

(India is shinning but China issued separate visas to Indian citizens of Jammu and Kashmir. Mr. Barrack Obama declared India a developed country but onion is sold at Rs 70 per kilo. The precarious conditions of India need immediate solution. The persons at the helm of power have to rise from their slumber. Life is too short. They should not involve themselves in corruptions like 2G-spectrum. They have miles to take India before they pass the reigns to next generation. I love my India and I love even its corrupt politicians. But at the same time I would repeat the catch line of Shiv Khera that says, “COUNTRY FIRST”)

A peep into the future

I closed my physical eyes but with my mental eyes peeped into the future….into the far… far future. I stretched my hands to feel the beauty of the future. I viewed the next generation and my influences on them. I imagined what elements of my existence will be carried to the next generation and how that will manifest in improving life on the planet. I thought of the future where I am supposed to be no more in physical form but my life’s impulses may get a room if they manifest constant enrichment to human life in the non-material level.  

Each step taken in the present will bear on the future. A life in the womb expectantly looks at me to give him a better future.

I woke up from the future travel and my eyes caught the sight of the troubled present. I felt “I have miles to go, before I sleep.”

As a guide to the next generation I shall extend my touch to the future through the coming generation.

By coincidence or by my fate I am a teacher. And I will love to remain a teacher because the teachers affect eternity. They cannot say when their influences stop.

A slender river ran into a desert

A slender river ran into a desert and dried up somewhere in the sand dune. The thin line of Life vanished in the relentless dryness of an unfavourable nature. But before the river died, it had fed some date-palms with its life-giving waters. The river had breathed new life in a cluster of cactuses before it was lost in the sand dunes.


The cactuses with their spines and thick stems meditatively whispered the immortality of the river to the silent desert. The wind was silent but suddenly a sand storm was seen approaching. The silence escaped and the roar of the wind with numberless sand particles heaped on the cactuses. In the depths of the sand mountains, the cactuses and date palms waited for another upheaval so that they can come out once again to proclaim the greatness of the river, which had daunted the desert to reach at them.

Like the cactuses and the date palms in the hostile desert, creativity of man is struggling to overthrow the dictates of a mercenary society. When the dying river of humanity nourishes the creative pursuits of man, the essential nobility of man is stretched for another century. And there are enough reasons to hope for spiritual up gradation by the freshly extended time-frame.

spontaniety : the culmination of one's creativity.

Like the waves of a blue sea, the birds flew in the blue sky. The afternoon sun had coloured the landscape with a golden hue. I was standing with my eyes fixed at the distant sky.

I was struggling in these days to manifest my inner talents in all its spontaneity. The flow of spontaneity is a culmination of the creativity in an individual. When the creativity of man is released from the binding principles of a petty individuality, it resorts to some mysterious and queer faculties. Moreover, that mysterious pulses work miracles in the form of spontaneity. The expressions of the being are no more under the restrictions of a thinking consciousness. The individuality flashes with a divine intuitive lustre and life assumes all simplicity.

I shut my eyes and lost my being in the vastness of the sky. I disintegrated and my ego started to dissolve in the deep silence of mind and spirit. I felt the sky in me. I felt the freedom of birds in me. I felt the shine of the sun in my being. I embraced the all world with my all-absorbing new expansion.

The vibes of tremendous energy is ever revolving in and around the man to usher him the glimpse of the divine. And I learnt just to be receptive to enjoy the power of spontaneity.

A temple of love

By the evening, I was completely exhausted. I had taken a daylong strain to keep myself active in the conference and by the evening, I had been completely spent up. I walked along with my other friends to refresh myself. On the busy roads of Bhubaneswar, through the heavy traffic I headed with my friends to the ISKON temple. The visit to the temple seemed suitable because man needs peace to recharge in a serene atmosphere.


Although the temple stands by the side of a busy road, the spacious structures of the temple put the mental fatigue aside to a little degree.

I sat on one of the benches of the temple. A pair of young boy and girl was sitting on the opposite bench to me. I felt happy to see them that the temple atmosphere is rightly conducive to carry on their exchange of feelings, which may culminate into a deep bond of love in future.

In the state capital, the temple provides free space, a delicious prasadam canteen, jingling bells and cymbals with incessant chanting of HARE RAM HARE KRISHNA..... Mahamantra. The public institution spreads the message of love and the serious love that goes in the talking of the pair in front of me made me think seriously that such institutions are essential for broadening our views related to love and sex.

we live in the company of complexities

The world moves very fast in a mechanical speed. We constitue the world and as a result we are also moving in a breakneck pace. We realize the truth when the machine breaks down and the human beings, who are half machine with the metallic goliaths, stand on their knees until the machines are repaired and life once again gains its speed. The irony is that flashing speed is now our normal pace of lifestyle.


On 20th Dec, my day seemed completely at stake when the engine of my train gave a choked cry and broke down in the mid-way. I was moving from Baleswar to Bhubaneswar. I was running short of time and reaching the training hall in time seemed a wild dream. I felt I am helpless. I had little in my hands to do anything. At last, I left all thoughts and waited patiently to see what happens next.

I reached the training hall at 1pm.

Meetings, planning, training sessions and wild rush on the roads mark the life of modern man. Long hours of gazing at the computer screens have eliminated the innocent joy of gazing at the stars in a clear night. We live in the company of complexities but forget the beauty of simplicity and genuine human earnestness.

A visit not to pray but to eat.

With a view to eating delicious food we four gathered in the ISKON temple. The day had merged in the evening and beautiful sankirtan and the face of youthful people had filled the occassion. Enjoyin Vada and rassagula with doses of sankirtanam will remind me that I was happy in the evening.

In a journey, life reveals many secrets.

In a journey, life reveals many secrets.


Yesterday, on the website of ‘OBOOKO’ I read a statement that ‘There is a book in every man.’ I took the statement not so seriously, although I had appreciated the idea. But I learnt the truth by spirit when I moved to jaypore on a ramshackle bus on 18th December, 2010. This happened so......

While journeying we take all our vanities with us. We board the bus, the train, or the plane with expressions of tremendous self-importance. It is common among many qualified people to pose an air of superiority when they travel in a public-transport-vehicle, where most of the co-passengers are unknown faces. I have always felt so in me and that day was no exception.

I was sitting silently lost in numerous thoughts of my family, outstanding loans, petty salary, unrealised dreams and so on.

By my side the W.E.O. (welfare extension officer) of Khairput Block was sitting. His tongue was restlessly producing words to declare that he is an administrator and the identity of a lecturer is woefully the least before his job because his job has power and enough sources of income apart from the monthly salary.

His boasting tendency rang a bell in my mind. And I remembered many instances when I have sung my own praises before others. Such memories made me think, ‘I am no better than he is’.

I kept silent to his boastful words.

His snobbishness also reminded me how we struggle throughout our lives to prove that I AM THE GREAT. However, the irony is that we spare no efforts to put a label of GREATNESS outwardly, whereas the inner being is gradually degenerating.

The wheels of the bus rolled down. The wind from the side window swept away most of the officer’s proud words. My mind responded lesser and lesser to his utterances. I deliberately cocooned myself in my own thoughts so as not to listen his boastful words any more. In the mean while an old acquaintance of the officer’s, who was in my hind seat handed over a book and asked my comments on it. A cursory look over the pages made my heart throb in appreciation of the seemingly original work on the tribal community of undivided Koraput.

Out of curiosity when I inquired about the author, I found that the writer is none but the co-passenger who had handed me the book. My feelings of genuine surprise turned to utter amazement, when I learnt that the writer is a driver by profession.

It is our general belief that driving the machines turns a man into a machine-Lifeless and mechanical. We expect that the drivers are meant to respond to speed and traffic signals or at best, they are reflexive. But when a driver goes beyond the normal expectation of the society and can write an likeable book, he forces everyone never to underestimate human capabilities. The unconventionality manifests newer hopes to them who are constantly hurt by the so-called big shots of society.

Smilingly, I looked at the W.E.O and asked, “How many books have you written, sir? You work for the tribal community and what is your contribution to their art and literature?” He listened what I had asked but deliberately looked out of the window at the green trees, that seemed running hind ward as the bus moved ahead.

I got inspired with my own words.

I did not care the chilling cold. My mind prompted and my heart whispered me to set out for the hostel inmates. I opened up my heart’s feelings before the boarders and asked for their complete co-operation to make the up-coming sports meet a grand success. I inspired and at the same time, I got inspired with my own words.


You cannot brighten someone’s path without brightening yours.

I left the hostel auditorium. It was 8pm of wintery December. I came out to the vacant road. The inspiration continued to work in me.

For a moment, the world stopped around me. I became emotional because for two long years I have remained attached with the young boys and girls, all hailing from the lower strata of the society. Today they are sitting in front of me and listening with rapt attention to each word I utter. Tomorrow they will be distant stars whom I can see but I may not touch. Today they are sitting by my side with their body wrapped in woollen clothes but in a year, they will be the travellers whose trains have left my station and have moved ahead. Although in the coming days, I will still be engaged in like a stationmaster, still regulating the passage of other trains approaching successively, they will get down in a newer world carrying my message and my soul’s touch.

I brooded whether I am packing up the right stuff for the modern generation in the tender minds. I became unsure, terribly unsure of my capability.

The night seemed darker and the road seemed lonelier. I stood alone. Looking at the night sky, I raised my hands upward. The chilling cold kissed my hands. Dewdrops percolated my head though my hair. I closed my eyes, with two drops of tears rolling down, begged Goddess Saraswati to spread her whiteness overpowering my darkly littleness.

she will ever dazzle as a deity of love- a story

When I look back into the past to relive my bygone days, my memory betrays. I fail to remember clearly how that girl was like an inseparable shadow of me. I faintly remember those moments but get deeply nostalgic because I cannot preserve those moments. They are gradually fading from my mind leaving my heart blank. The slow but sure loss of my past feelings is making me hollow day by day.

Today, I am pained because after my marriage to another girl, my days are passing one by one and her memory is slowly disintegrating from my mind. It is not that I am unhappy with my marriage but I do not like to forget her numerous impressions, smiles, sacrifices, embraces, tears, kisses and the moments that we had shared together.

The painful truth is that human memory is fallible. It is devised to forget. I am also no exception. I very much realize how the waves of ruthless time has started to corrode many of her sweet memories from my mind. Now, I cannot remember those very incidents, which had deepened our relations gradually. I cannot remember when I first kissed her. I cannot remember when for the first time we had cried together holding each other tightly. I cannot remember on which occasions we had been to the seashore. I cannot remember how she cooked my food and washed my clothes and readied me for the annual function in the college. I cannot remember those numerous day-to-day happenings that had made her my sweet heart.

However, something of her will always remain in my life like indestructible particles until my last breath. It is because in her softness, I had first known the pangs and the giggling of love.

My mind may forget everything about her but my heart has preserved something precious about her, which neither time nor a failing memory can ever tarnish. Moreover, she will ever dazzle as a deity of love in my mental sky for all times to come.

IT IS BETTER TO BE TRUSTED THAN TO BE LOVED.

It is a great thing to keep one’s own words. If you commit something to someone, follow it with all your devotion. Because hope keeps the world going and shattered hopes, beget the criminals. A man who hopes and believes in the kindness and nobility of society can never become antisocial. Hence, the moral responsibility of each man on earth is to keep the light of hope ever burning in the hearts of every man.


With the word commitment, I remember the famous lines of Salman Khan, which he utters in the movie WANTED: “When I commit something, I never listen even to myself.”

Now the question is why commitment is so necessary in life. It is because commitment of one man kindles the candle of hope of another man. When hope of a man is fulfilled, it generates trust and trust is better than love.

In my college time, I loved a girl. She used to write very emotional and beautiful letters to me. The fine expressions of her letters used to export me to the other worlds. Until date, I believe that those imaginative flights and ecstasy are beyond all human description. I used to experience as if life was lived in an altogether different plane. However, god cannot tolerate when your love exceeds his expectations. Suddenly, the entire world went up side down. One day her uncle along with some muscular men surrounded me in college and demanded those letters from me. I could have evaded them but I did not do so. I handed them those securely preserved love-letters. I did so not out of fear but with an intention to make them aware that, the love affair is not one-sided. However, my every calculation went wrong. In home, my ladylove was severely beaten and her study was stopped for a month. That one month of separation was really excruciating. It was just like nursing a stabbed heart with the killer knife still inside. I was terribly upset at the so serious turn of the love affair.

One fine morning in the college campus, I detected my sweet heart after a long gap of 46 days. My joy knew no bounds. There was an upsurge of adrenalin in my whole being. Nevertheless, I did not venture to meet him lest her moustachioed uncle was guarding her. I could not sit in the class and I moved on the corridors in search of her. My eyes stopped at the college library counter. I caught a glimpse of her. She tried to ignore me. However, I went to her. Before I could speak anything to her, she painfully stated, “No explanations, I may love you but I do not trust you” and went past by my side. I was dumb-found. Tears rolled down because I realized that I have lost my credibility as a lover.

The incident taught me that IT IS BETTER TO BE TRUSTED THAN TO BE LOVED.

man is sensitive enough to respond to sweet words.

Yesterday I had been to the dentist. He took my money and a tooth and in return gave an excruciating pain. Next day in the morning, when I smiled in front of the mirror, I could see a side view of my buccal chamber through the newly formed gap. In the serially lined up white teeth, a member was missing. I resembled an old man. Instantly, I thought of my little baby who is yet to approach on earth. I wondered that she/he will initially express his joy in teeth less laughs and now I am slowly following his/her trail to do so. Smiling with no teeth!


Yesterday the dentist scolded me severely for tearing a part of his prescription. Unintentionally I had made the mistake. The situation was such that I urgently required a piece of paper to write down my Father’s in law bank account number. My wife was on the mobile. I was on the seat of my bike in the midst of heavy traffic and that prescription was the only available paper with me. Moreover, the dentist had left a considerable part of the prescription blank and I thought to use it.

Whatever may be, I admit that the dentist’s annoyance was justified because I had disrespected his profession but his reaction seemed to me an over dose. He became somewhat aggressive and flung hard words of admonition. I was pained but kept quite. At the very moment, his son who was sitting on the dentist’s lap started playing with the x-ray films of my ailing teeth. Suddenly I took notice of the situation and announced to the boy “Hey baby, don’t play with the x-ray films it is a disrespect to your Papa’s profession”. The doctor looked straight to me but I smiled internally because,”To err is human, to forgive is divine.” The dentist will not mind his son’s behaviour because his son is a part of him. However, he will not spare a patient because the patient is someone else to be admonished and prove doctor’s superiority. The life is like this. We derive pleasure when we crush somebody’s self-esteem.

The moral of the story is we all must be tolerant to other’s flaws and at the same time; we must use only the soft chords to bring a change and not hard words to teach a lesson.

As a teacher, I resolve to bring about changes in my students by the method of persuasion and not by punishment because man is sensitive enough to respond to sweet words.

Dark with excessive brightness

In our B.A. class, our teacher had given a very good example of paradox. To explain his point he quoted a line, which runs thus: Dark with excessive brightness. Today I feel this line is best applicable to internet. In a short time, we are exposed to so much information that we had to spend most of the time in selecting what to read for our benefit. As a result, the human attention span is greatly reduced. A cursory glance to the HTTPs suddenly sets off a violent pace to reject the material at hand and constantly makes the attention to wander through the plethora of web pages. Such habits are causing dissatisfaction because we never derive the satisfaction of mindful reading. In addition, our movements in the vast expanse of cyberspace are often associated with too many diversions. The electronic screen and numerous pop up ads exacerbate the disgust.

The melody of the soul, when the eyes are engaged in filling the mind serenely with the pages of a single book in hand, is disappearing. Mind has become a restless monkey with immense freedom.

Yesterday, one of my best friends requested me not to write long text messages. The problem with him is that he cannot gather the required patience to read long messages. It is quite true that lack of patience and mental concentration is a growing trait among the ultra-moderns. The busy and competitive lifestyle has made us slide over the fine things of life unconcerned. We fail to observe and notice that how beautiful life is. We are dazzled by the outer world and ignore what life whispers in our ears about itself.

Today we talk in SMS and our next generation will surely switch over to VSMS (Very Short Messaging Service). Nevertheless, I would interpret that VSMS will stand for ‘Vanishing Sensibility Messaging Standards’.

Tum Mere Kaun Ho.

A beautiful damsel and a handsome guy who are bubbling with all liveliness represent an extra-ordinary love relation in Yahan Mey Ghar Ghar Kheli (daily soap of ZEE TV). The passion gets heavenly with the background song ' TUM MERE KAUN HO'. The song touches the soul and it must be appreciated.

But.... But..... My quest for the beautiful song resulted in utter disapointment. In spite of persistent web search which even continued for a fortnight, I could not find a genuine download link. . All my search seemed futile. I was unable to reach at my right destination. Numerous sites popped that encased my interest for their gains but in the end I was made to end in some unwanted site.

At last I realized that I am wandering at the distant unknown but missing something obvious. I clicked the official website of ZeeTv and hit the bulls eye.

I love the song so much that I would like to provide the down link page address in the post. Moreover, I attach the song also with this post.


DOWNLOAD PAGE where the download link is shown.

http://www.zeetv.com/shows/yahan-main-ghar-ghar-kheli/download.html

7th December, A night shivering with cold wave and rain.

Persistent rain and freezing cold-wave had worsened the weather for the last 2 days and today the bad weather had reached its peak. As a result  I remained indoors all day long and when I opened the door of my room I found that the day light had already stepped aside making room for a dark chilly evening. Every where an utter darkness prevailed because there was  a major power failure in the village.  I groped my way to my neighbour Sairam's house. We decided to eat out. Although it was raining and the cold wind was cutting our flesh ,we set on bike to the hotel. The hotel owner welcomed us with a customary smile but we were bitterly disappointed when we discovered that the hotel has neither Chapati nor Roti for dinner. We returned home wet and shivering in the wintry rain.

We started cooking and prepared Chapati in 30minutes. The dinner was not bad. I returned my home with a 3/4th filled stomach. Opening the door, readily I occupied my bed and embraced its warmth and then the cosy bed induced me to mention about my day-long struggle against the ruthless weather. 

In the day time I had been invited by Mr.Sanjaya for lunch. He invited me because some guests who were expected to come to his home that afternoon did not show up. And the excess of food prepared for them fell on my share. 

The characteristics of today's weather were best explained by Mr.Tanmay's SMS ,which runs like this:

God is in Dabbang Mood," Hum tumhari city mey aisa climate create karenge ki confuse ho jaoge ke RAINCOAT pahene ya SWEATER.

ramblings on 5th December.

With severe toothache, I had frozen in the evening. That evening was rather motionless. The Naxals had announced for PLGA week celebration and all the bus services to the Malkangir district had frozen like my aching tooth. There was little traffic on the rough and rutted roads, which are very much the characteristic of developing India. The evening less by vehicular noise was putting up an eerie silence. And the toothache.......


My wife phoned me. She complained me of stomach pain and my little one's movement in the uterus. In these days the foetus had been a lively moving happiness to me. So even in my toothache I smiled from my heart. I realized that with every pain, a happy smile may get associated. However, I will uproot my tooth the next day. My wife will give birth to a new possibility. We shall do our best to make out a quality life. But I ponder who will subside the terrorizing silence of this December evening?

I went to Jayant uncle's home to take my dinner. I did not cook my food because I had to attend my toothache and internet. I had a hearty meal and while returning to my quarter I popped into Sairam's, the chemistry lecturer's cabin. He was on all his fours over a book. His serious concentration on the action at hand baffled me. He revealed his deep longing to leave the place. Therefore, he had to study hard to find some other job. I admired his efforts and at the same time felt that he has enough reason to be dissatisfied with life in a district where man-made accidents may happen at any time.

My phone rang. It was a happy diversion to mind. Roy sir had made the call. He was elated to express about his activated subscription in the Google sms channel. He was on the way to his home-town for attending his nephew's marriage. How happy he was!

I was the only vegetarian sitting between the two chemistry lecturers who were happily relishing non-veg meals. They were eating up non-veg items and I was talking in loud voice non-veg items. There was not much difference among us because some great man has rightly said that talking filthy things pollute the mind and soul. It is more harmful then poison.

A great show was being telecast in the evening. The musicians of India were awarded for their contributions to the music world. In a section of the show Usha Utthup was seen crying out of excess of emotion. Good thing! Tears and music are old companions.

I have a small world. If you continue to read my blog posts constantly you will now every character by name and their nature. Nevertheless, my question is why you will show so much generous interest in me and my world. The answer will make sense if we think each other as companions in the life journey. So you scratch my back and I shall yours. So let us live and let live others. It is too late to sleep. But before I close my eyes and invite my dream world, I like you to plant a tree. It is because in the end I may be selfish and may kick your buttocks but in the hot summers when global warming pounds the vilest hot waves, the green tree will provide you a shady place to keep your hurt buttocks in peace.

Some write ups for the soul

Everyday people like me are cluttering the web with their views, opinions ideas and a few facts too. But the thoughts and the contents most often fall into the level of mediocrity. The same thing also happens even in the print media. Books, journals and a heavy deal of reading materials are poured into the glittering shops for the general public.

As a reader, we constantly get confused in choosing our reading material. It is because in a busy and hectic life of a fast moving world we can not afford our time to read something which is not highly beneficial to us. So we expect from the writers or any litterateur to write something for the soul. In the modern times, our minds have been digitalized in the company of computers and all short of electronic gadgets. Moreover, the pulsating heart, which once used to symbolize our fine emotions, has now reduced to a lump of flesh which is now only functional for the physical body. The greatest requirement of the modern man is humanity, which has sunk into oblivion.

Strong waves of inspiration and human sensibility are needed plentifully to refurbish the lost souls. The minds on the web or on the print are required to replete the systems with so much positives that the negatives in the world will seem negligible.

A petty headache and its petty cause.

I have a terrible headache since last night and its origin goes back to two days before when Jayaprakashji came to Govindapally and we conducted a small party. By party we mean cooking together and eating  together (but never drinking)  and strengthening the bond of friendship.

That night Mr.Jayaprakash talked to me about his unsuccessful marriage proposal with Monalisa.He recounted vividly about his likings for the girl and mentioned how on some compatibility issues the  marriage proposal was dropped. My friend gave all the minute details of the progress of the proposal and its end-product which was akin to a  LJBF (Let's Just Be Friends)relation.

Mr Jayaprakash is now out of the painful heartache of the proposal. However, in some corner of his heart he had an indelible memory of the happenings. That night I patiently heard those sweet and bitter memories and slept at 1pm. In the morning I felt a headache and that continues till date. .......... I took a pill just 2 hours before and feel somewhat relieved.