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.