I pray God to be considerate and compassionate

My baby took birth on 13th of January. I first saw him on 14th Jan. Today is the 5th day with him. And now I find that his cry is a powerful siren which wakes me up instantly from my deep sleep and automatically sets me in a mood to change his wet diapers diligently as soon as possible. Now I can do this thing even in a half sleepy state. The newly acquired reflex action crept into my being in less than 5 days.


I am most thankful to my wife. Today I embraced her in her post Cesarean operation pain. She buried her face on my shoulder and I curiously felt that the responsibility of a mother is almost over and a great responsibility of a father is lieing ahead.

The relation with the new born is growing day by day. His innocent sparkling eyes are the most beautiful things on earth. A deep look into his eyes infuses the innocence of not knowing anything and that splendid ignorance readily melts my complexities of an adult life.

The night my son took birth I was anxious and half-informed of my wife's condition. At that time my wife was at her paternal home and I was at Malkangiri. These two places stood at a distance of nearly 800 kilometers. I felt helpless because I am not like Hanuman, the Hindu monkey god, who could fly over 7 seas with one jump.

In my utter helplessness I unlocked the key pad to phone God but I could not determine on which number to make the call. I irresistibly felt inside me to have a direct contact with God and I did not want to waste my time. So I opened the message box and wrote an sms, "Dear God I may not be a worthy or a good husband but i send this sms to relieve my wife of pain and fear during the delivery time." I saved the sms in the draft folder and slept.

The next morning I got the news that I have been blessed with a baby boy. The pain stopped in the mid night, so the doctor had to undertake a Cesarean operation and very smoothly the baby was delivered.

My God had taken care of both the 'Pain and fear' of the mother during the delivery. Today I pray God to be considerate and compassionate to everyone on this planet who prays for his favors.

Carrying your luggage mam.

A girl studying in a city is always in want of a boy who can carry her luggage. I was travelling in the bus from Jeypore to Bhubaneswar. A stylish girl wearing jeans and t-shirt stepped into the bus, stylishly toying her hair. She carried no luggage but behind her a boy, most probably her boy friend, carried a colossal bag with back cent in heavy weight of the bag. The girl went to the seat like a queen and the boy looked like an obedient porter trying to place that bag safely on the luggage rack of the bus. The boy and the girl exchaned smiles, love-touches and byes. I looked at the girl and wanted to tell her, " Baby, if the relation turns well then the boy who is now painstakingly carries your luggage may give you a baby-luggage shortly which you may have to carry in the womb for 9 months. "

An absent-minded smile.

In the station many people saw that I was smiling absent-mindedly.They thought perhaps I was partly mad. But they did not know that I was fully mad in the love of some one who had not landed on earth yet. They did not know that I remembered my sweet wife and the baby growing in her womb. They did not know that I smiled at the thought of the approaching baby who would hold my hands in his little hands and will assure me that the world will continue.

inquisitive eyes blurred with sorrowful tears.

I looked into her eyes. Her eyes were the sea of innocence sparkling with inquisitiveness. She was perhaps a student of class nine or ten. She was chubby and reminded me of the babies often displayed in most baby powder ads.


That day, I was invited as the chief speaker to her institution to deliver a speech to those high school students. During my address I could see that she listened to my words in rapt attention. I thought her to be a very sincere student. Her eager eyes were undoubtedly a powerful motivation to me. I expected students like her in the college, where I teach.

The next year new admissions were taken for +2 First year class in our college. On first week of August the new classes started. On my first day in that new class I detected that girl sitting in the second bench. A year had passed but her face was still in my mind fresh like a morning flower.

For a moment I thought that she was destined to become my student, perhaps for that reason that day I had felt a strange closeness with her when I met her first.

She came and studied like other students. Two years passed away imperceptibly. She appeared the test examination. The result was declared. And on the day of result publication, I found her crying at the notice board. I enquired about her tears. My question triggered the tears to roll down more profusely. She broke down and uttered, “I have failed in the examination, Sir.” The things stunned me. I could not find any co-relation between my initial impressions about the girl and the newly discovered fact about her dismal performance in the exam.

I saw those inquisitive eyes now blurred with sorrowful tears.

As a teacher, I could have averted such unpleasant situations if I had given a little attention to the girl. But I had never done so because I always checked my feelings towards her. I kept a distance from her lest some weakness in my heart should develop.

Just for a moment think that you are 12 years back - A story

Many sentiments, once that dazzled with much prominence and urgency, fade way with time or they attain altogether different forms. Human sentiments show kaleidoscopic changes with time and situations. A chunk of my life to confirm this truth......

That day I was a participant in the college song competition. I do not sing so well but I had participated. For me participation was just a further discovery of my talents. Like me, many students cluttered the stage and used the microphone to amplify their hoarse voices. Only very few good singers occasionally appeared among them like brilliant flashes who swayed the audience with their melodious voices. My turn came. I gave my performance. It was full of spirit and energy but was of average order. I was the 33rd Number of participant.

I was daily coming to college from my village covering a distance of 50 Kilometres. The last bus to my village would pass by my college before 4pm. That day I was late to catch the bus to my hometown. I was reluctantly leaving the spacious auditorium because there all the teen agers had gathered and a strong current of romantic feelings was flowing in and through the auditorium. I was unwillingly stepping down the stairs leaving the bubbling auditorium behind me. Like other teen-agers, I was also in search of a beautiful face in whose beauty I could forget the tyranny of my subjects. Young boys and girls were expressing their intense love-feelings with heart-rending gestures while they sang many popular romantic or poignant songs. It was enthralling to witness powerful expression of young emotionality breaking the monotony of educational institutions. I was one among them but I had to leave the place because the private bus will not wait for me. While I was about to cross the entrance of the auditorium, a child like female voice sang a song whose meaning was ‘life lived in isolation is meaningless’. The unusually beautiful voice allured me to discover the owner of the voice. I turned back and rushed to have a glimpse of that girl. From a distance, I saw her. She was a beautiful short-heighted girl with double pigtails and plump cheeks. Her appearance rang bells in my heart. I was dumbfounded for some moments. After her performance, she smiled at the audience and her dimples invited the longest clapping from the audience. I still remember that among the audience, I was the last one to stop clapping.

That day I missed my bus and stayed in a friend’s hostel room.

Mornings came and days passed away but I could never meet the girl once again. When I could not see the girl again, I wanted to listen to that song that she had sung that day. I went to many music stores to get the song. However, I could not tell the lyrics of the song exactly to the shopkeepers as a result I failed even to get a copy of the song as a token of her memory. I could get neither the girl nor the song linked to her magical appearance in my life. Slowly and slowly, her memory receded from the conscious working of my brain but occasionally she would pop up like volcanic eruption from some corner of my mind and would silence my whole being in some strange forgetfulness. This process continued for one or two year.

After 12 years, one day my son was playing with the remote control of the television set. He was aimlessly switching from one channel to another channel. At one music channel, he stopped for a moment. A song was on the screen. My heart responded to the music instantly. I took the remote in my hand, turned up the volume. Eureka! I had found the song, which I was desperately seeking 12 years back. The high volume of the TV made my wife rush from the kitchen like a bulldozer. She shouted angrily, “Have you gone mad? For your kind information, the sound is beyond my toleration.” I answered her, “My dear, just for a moment think that you are back into 12 years and in the college auditorium you are singing this song with a smiling face and I am in the audience.”

My wife could not understand why I responded so imaginatively and emotionally to her enraged voice. She got confused for a moment but later gave a heavenly smile. In her smile, I was lost in dreaming that same auditorium, same gathering, same song but this time my wife had fully replaced that girl...........Somebody shook my hand. When I came to life from my daydream, my 4-year-old son asked me, “Daddy, you will be standing at the audience and mother on the stage but where shall I be?” I lifted my son into my arms and told him, “You would be in my shirt pocket, very close to my heart, son.”