A baby so understanding

Under the shade of a jack fruit tree we were talking in a group. My flow of speech broke when my attention was captured by a mother and a baby staring from her lap. All of a sudden the baby refreshed the memory of my son. I wanted to hold the baby in my arms purely out of fatherly love. 

The mother of that baby was from the labour class. She had come to join in the construction work that was going on in our college campus. She was carrying a tiffin box in one hand and the baby in the other. I was astonished and asked her, "with the baby how can you manage the work at the construction site?" she smiled and replied, " Babu, it is no problem. The baby plays or sleeps under the tree shade while I work. " The simplicity and the spontaneity of the answer amazed me. 

The poverty & vicissitudes of life have made the baby so understanding that from the early age the baby has become co-operative to the elders who have their relentless compulsions to sell labour even during maternity.

"Bloody Rascals"

I was vehemently opposing their planning to go on a picnic and they stood like rocks, obstinate in their demands. They stood in a group of 100 students and I stood beside my principal negating the very idea of organizing a picnic when the examination was on head. I asked them about their preparedness for the up-coming examination but they did little value my words of counsel. For them I was just a jar of cold water on the heat of their teen-age enthusiasm.


A girl student from the group strongly asserted that going picnic was inevitable. The more they became obstinate, the harsher I became in my dealings. However, the strict admonishments ended the planning of going out in a fiasco but it generated terrible temperature among the all the teen-aged students. They thought me as their enemy who nipped their flowers of love and romance at the budding stage.

I returned home, prayed God. I asked for divine guidance to show me the right course of action and went to bed. The next day the student unrest took another shape. With a long list of my failures as a teacher, the students encircled the principal and asked for justice. The list had mainly highlighted two words, “BLOODY RASCALS”, which I had used that day when I saw the students very obstinately insistent upon organizing a picnic when the exams were at hand.

A baby's cry

The first cry of a newborn baby is a flower of 9-month long of great forbearance and patience. A baby is priceless because he is the condensed form of great human care and love. His innocence and complete dependence on the elders inspire the highest feelings of human love. And this feelings produce the purest joys of life. In a short period, the baby’s well-being & happiness assume to be the sole purpose of the parents’ life.


A baby cannot speak, cannot complain but his little helpless cries warrant the best available care from the elders. When the parents fail to console the crying baby, they cry themselves.

In the morning, my wife phoned me and told that the baby was incessantly crying since midnight. I was nervous. I was nervous because the complaints of a baby in the form of cries are out of pure necessity. It never involves any sort of exaggerations that the elders often wrap around their petty problems. This is why a baby’s cry pricks the heart with utmost urgency.

I phoned my brother in-law and advised him to take the baby to a paediatrician immediately. And at the same time my eyes shed some tears unconsciously when I imagined the helplessness of my baby.

out of sight is out of mind

The happiness of the annual function of my college could not last long when I saw the crying faces of a few senior girl students. The teardrops were loudly describing their utter disappointment. They cried because they could not get the opportunity to stage a one-act play, which they had rehearsed for the last weeklong. They cried because all their costumes, make-up and preparation had ended in smoke.  

Anything out of sight is out of mind- it happened in their case.  Those students stood for long hours in a dimly lit remote corner when other student-groups were busy in performing on stage. That group of girl-students neither reminded nor informed the stage-in-charge of their preparedness to   stage the play. As a result, other groups performed one by one before the audience and went away smilingly but those girls remained aloof in the corner unnoticed and disappointed.  

The light and sound systems, which were hired for the stage programme, had been contracted for a certain period. Beyond that stipulated time, the light and sound system hirer had another call to attend. The time was short and the list of performers was out of proportion. There was immense pressure on the stage manager and during the hectic stage-management; the girl-students got neglected.

The short of time compelled to stop the stage-show abruptly. The declaration of the closure of the cultural programme was heralded all of a sudden and the P.A. system was removed from the stage within no time.

The public started to disappear and at that time, the girl-students appeared before us in tears.

The incompleteness and disappointment on their faces affected my colleagues and me deeply. However I felt more guilty because I was that incapable stage manager.

Yesterday, I was attracted by some elegant oranges that summoned my attention with their vibrant colours. I asked the seller about their taste and quality. The vendor readily gave a high opinion of the produce. Motivated by his guarantee, I packed 2 kilos of orange to take home. But before he tied a knot to the poly pack, I picked an orange from the pack to have an immediate relish. I peeled the rind & ate it. Now, my expression changed. The taste of the orange strongly interfered with my pre-conceived taste of the fruit. I looked straight into the eyes of the seller and asked about the taste of the fruit once again while chewing a piece of it. The seller fumbled &uttered, " This may be a little bit watery but in other respect it is o.k. Sir. " I smiled and did not tell him anything. I took out my wallet, paid him only for the single piece of orange that I had eaten and left the weighed and packed oranges in that shop for other kind hearted customers. On the way I thought I am most fortunate that the mediator who had brought the marriage proposal of the girl who is now my wife was not like that orange vendor.

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.”

A father

The pending loans and the impending instalments had eaten up the man internally. He is struggling hard to make both ends meet. Growing age and deteriorating health condition cannot deter him from supporting his family. For 34 long years, he has raised the family and still he is supporting his family. Throughout his life, he shouldered the burden of the family and still at his retiring time, he stands tall and gives shade to other members.


To be a father is not easy!

Lesson from a flying bird-a story

The bird in the sky moved its wings repeatedly and went to a height. And from that height it glided slowly and slowly with its apparently motionless but fully spread wings. The movement was like that of a still mind exploring the different layers of consciousness one by one with each circle.


Vima was laying on a grassy land with his face skyward. He looked at the bird, which was pleasantly gliding making circles in the yonder sky. The bird was enjoying a meditative rest and the earth was acting its force on its movement. The bird rested in the lap of nature while the flying body was slowly descending down. The bird enjoyed the gentle wind as the wind buoyed its feathers up. The evening sky splashed all its golden touches on the bird. And the circling bird seemed to represent the joy of the creation.

Vima, got up. The skyward gaze and his oneness with bird filled his life with enough inspiration. Mr. Vimshankar Birla alias Vima was a millionaire but he had no peace of mind. He was only moving his wings frantically to rise higher and higher. In the mad upward ascend he had forgotten to commune with nature. He had forgotten to fall freely under the motherly pull of nature. He had forgotten to rest in the lap of his creator. The bird taught him the lesson of little rest to enjoy the world.

The bird’s fall is a state of inactivity filling the gap in between two cycles of intense activities, where the soul finds harmony with the forces of nature.

A baby at play.

I was travelling in a chair car compartment of a train. I was comfortably seated and by my side a small family was seating with a small attractive baby-girl. The baby in the lap of his father intently looked into different things around the world. She looked with the seriousness of an adult to explore the world that was so new to her. Her hands slowly played over the zip of a gentle man’s bag. She ran her little fingers on the knob of the zip and inspected with all attention. Saliva dripped from her mouth and wetted the collar of her warm cloth she had worn. She was like a tiny scientist.


Before the baby could complete her exploration, the station arrived and the couple in a hurry assembled their luggage and went away. The father held the baby tightly in the rush and distanced the baby from the bag and the zip. The baby was looking fixedly to feel the zip for some more time and the zip was missing the genuinely interested human touch of a clear conscience.

NEW YEAR MUSINGS : MAN and EARTH

The earth completed a revolution around the sun and the year 2010 left the world stage waving its hand and playing a fading farewell smile. During the allotted 365 days, the year unlocked many mysteries and at the same time it also put many fresh questions which miserably confirm the ignorance of man.


The enigmatic difference between man and earth is that the earth moves round the sun like a stoic. No rush, no imbalances, very streamlined, obeying the laws of nature. But man on earth hurries throughout his/her life till he falls flat on ground. Overburdened, incomplete, always antagonistic to the laws of nature, he finally meets a hollowed end.

It is true that the preceding years never appear before the fast galloping human race. But it is always educative and wise to feel the shadow of past years because they teach a lot about our follies. There should always be ‘a looking back’ in every forward progress. More or less, ‘LOOKING BACK’ is a human compulsion as it assures us that we are not disintegrating in a state of inevitable rootlessness.

The days turned over like the pages of a book. The year 2010 dawned and whizzed past swiftly. But man is handicapped and helpless because the swift movement of time is unidirectional. In memory he may pine for the moments that have passed by but he cannot relive them.

The best thing with a book is that you can go back to the previous pages of a book. But this freedom is not granted with time. Time is irreversible and the greatest pity of life is that you cannot sail back on the ocean of time. It is a bloody one-way traffic.

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.

Thakkar Bappa's Birth Aniversary

Today is Thakkar Bappa's birth aniversary and  the ST and SC development department of Orissa state observes the day in all its educational institutions. To commemorate the birth anniversary of Thakkar Bappa our college also declared a holiday and convened a meeting. In order to brace myself up for the meeting  I searched the Internet yesterday to find information about this great man but the outcome was very slender. I could not find any substantial information about his life and achievements. However, my interaction with other staff next day convinced me that I am better known about Thakkar Bappa than they know about him.

With a view to attending the meeting I came to college a little earlier. I was alone in the administrative block, sitting alone in front of a computer. Two boys came and asked my permission to go out of the campus to buy some items. I granted them the permission and they went away. I became alone once again. Few minutes latter another student approached me and stood silently before me. I presumed that this student has also come to ask my permission to go out. But his long silence more than the normal behaviour pattern drew my inquisitiveness. I withdrew my eyes from the computer screen and looked at the boy . His eyes spoke more than his tongue could. In a friendly tone I asked, "What can I do for you.". He gave a short reply, "Nothing,Sir." But he was on the verge of crying. In a deep painful tone intimated that he could not pursue his studies because he has a diseased father. He had to work as a labourer to feed his family. Even though the Government is providing facilities for food and study to the tribal students they have their own set of compulsion which looms larger than all welfare programmes in Orissa. If some income generating activities are added with regular class-room education a lasting solution to such problems can be found.

Never be in conflict with your moral values

Since the time when the human child becomes conscious of the outer world, he assimilates a number of influences and impressions which go in forming his life's general philosophy.The society is such a machinery which instills and teaches a lot of  social principles & human values. Such intrinsic human values and moral principles always show their presence in our mind . They subtly influence us.

Our life's activities can cause great mental conflict in us when they go against our own acquired value-systems. Such contrasting activities or actions in life shatter our whole-being and weaken our will-power and spiritual forces. Therefore the journey to greatness must be in conformity with the general moral principles of life. Any violation to our own preset value-systems lower our dignity in our own eyes and we suffer a psychological fragmentation.

Life finds a greater expression when the moral force of an individual keeps in line with his activities and life's missions.

A life lived within the limitations of self interests may not draw upon  moral strength.Because you don't require an atom bomb to blast a rock. A dynamite can achieve that not-so-great result. But events of greater dimensions necessitate greater force. similarly, the lowly thoughts of human mind revolving around a single individual may go without the endorsements of moral values but a powerful thought can never assume its revolutionary and ennobling potentialities unless it is accompanied by a right moral attitude.The more are we restricted in setting the goals of life , the lesser becomes the need for moral evolution.But inculcating a moral value system in life opens the petals of all other divine virtues.

Ailing roads causing ailments

The KBK districts of Orissa are the most interior regions of the state. It has very poor communication facilities. Underdeveloped railway connectivity and poor road service mark the sorry state of the districts. The state capital Bhubaneswar is at an enormous distance of 700 hundred Kilometres from the southernmost district head quarter of KBK districts. A single journey over the rough roads to the capital can make any healthy person ill. Recently one of our staff had been to Berhampur on the grounds of Medical treatment. After being cured of his ailments when he returned from Berhampur his health condition once again deteriorated severely because of the awful long journey. As a result, he was made to rush to the hospital again.

Since the month of September 2010 my wife, who is an expectant mother, is in her paternal home because I cannot provide her adequate medical facility at this place. Yesterday I was chitchatting at a local beetle shop. The shopkeeper proudly showed me a photograph, which was published in a daily local paper. The shopkeeper had clicked that photograph that showed an ailing patient being carried by four men on a cot to the near-by hospital. The published photo was loudly proclaiming that: We do not have ambulance; if we have ambulance, we do not have roads; if we have roads, we do not have doctors; we have many ‘Nots’ because we are the Havenots.

The lack of connectivity and good road system has an indirect benefit. It is that once we come to this interior pockets we stay in the place for months together. My colleagues who are working with me in the same college take extra classes on most Sundays because Sundays have no meaning to them. On Sundays, they cannot go to their hometown. The distance and the tiresome journey desist everyone ( my colleagues) to remain in the headquarters. So it becomes more sensible for us to engage ourselves in doing our duty even on Sundays as the most pleasant form of diversion. However, the irony is that in spite of our committed service the Government is never pleased to allow us the KBK allowance. Nevertheless, this allowance is provided to other service holders of the region. In Orissa, the teachers are the most neglected community.

Atmaprakash Nayak has invited you to join Rediff MyPage

rediff.com

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Hi, I would like to add you as a friend on Rediff MyPage, a great place to keep in touch with friends, post photos and videos. Add me as friend Cheers, Atmaprakash Nayak

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Thinking habit is a powerful tool to unleash the latent potentialities of an individual. Taking a little physical exercise, reading good books, listening to positive thoughts and developing the power of concentration can take an individual to newer heights. Life's possibilities can be explored only by holding the steering wheel of the mind consciously and directing its movement meticulously towards the higher aspects of life. Above all the wise technique of avoiding all lowly and degenerating thoughts from mind enhances the true beauty of life.

digest the discomfort of an emotional hurt with time.

My Mind needed rest because my heart was pained. Many people say mind has nothing to do with heart but when the heart bleeds, the mind also denies to function actively. All liveliness is withdrawn & the individual slips into a state of indiffrence till the pain is absorbed completely. The best method to heal emotional hurts & agonies is to leave everything to the healing touch of time. With the flow of time all mental or emotional wounds heal up. This is the only effective remedy available with men when we think of pains other than physical. Some mental pains get healed up in a little time & some other emotional disturbances take a very long time to get cured. However, the effectiveness of time to cure mental agonies of men is undeniable.

I felt isolated for sometime in Baleswar. I was pained. My mind slowed its activity & started digesting the pain.When I was writing this blogpost I had frozen under a spell of emotional hurt and was standing silently to digest the discomfort of an emotional hurt.

16th November, 2010

16th November, 2010
Hustle and bustle started very early in the morning in my father’s-in-law. Even the night had not enough chance to pass by when all were stirred to activity. I opened my eyes in a half-sleepy state and found the taxi blowing its horn in front of the gate. Soon I realized that I have to move with my wife to the gynecologist for the routine check-up. Without taking a bath I got ready as soon as possible and waited for few minutes till my wife braced her up for the scheduled appointment. She took enough time as usual to undertake the make ups and wrapping up the saree. This time the situation was worse as the bulging abdomen was loudly revolting to disobey the outlines of the saree. The asymmetry took a long time to be resolved. However, by 5.30am we set out for Baleswar. The humpy and bumpy country road shined with unexpected pits and the vehicular motion gave enough jerks to everyone including the unborn. The situation warranted a long discourse of filthy languages for the Political leaders. India is a country which lacks many basic amenities for its people. We don’t have access to drinking water, healthcare, education, electricity and many more. Still we love our country because it is ours.
We reached Sri Ram Hospital. Luckily we were the first customer (patients) of the day. We were instructed by a security man to wait and not to leave the place as our absence will forfeit our serial number. We had not taken our breakfast so this stringent policy to keep the patients binding resulted another one hour delay in getting our dosas, vadas, idillis and sambar.
The doctor came. Had the sonograph of the foetus and uttered the word, “Normal”. I heaved a sigh of relief and counted Rs 6oo/- as the doctor’s fee. The would-be baby had travelled more than 55 kilometers to get sonographed. I mean the struggle for existence started before it lands on earth.
After spending sometime in the market of Baleswar, when we returned we were dog-tired. The pain on the part of a pregnant woman to journey hundreds of Kilometer to get basic medical care rightly explains the prosperity of modern India.

patriotic fervor and revolutionary zeal :need of the hour

India's economic growths in the last few years have drawn attention of world community but the general well-being of its people have not been bettered proportionately. The economic divide between the haves and the have-nots is still escalating. This incongruity raises some skeptical questions on the competency of bureaucracy and governance. . . . .

With some such thoughts in my mind I was journeying from Govindapally to Jeypore. For a moment I felt to do everything possible on my part to correct the flaws. The more deeply I pondered over the unsatisfactory prevailing situations, the more badly I was hurt. I felt helpless. As I am a man from the common mass who will heed to me? What coercion can I impose on the monolithic government? Shall I ally myself with the likeminded persons to make my voice audible? Will my fellow brothers and sisters stand by me casting aside their egos for a greater cause? I became desperately apprehensive of the general nature of India’s larger public. I thought and what I concluded that I write below.

Democracy is the best form of government but there are numerous unconstitutional byways for the power holders to befool the common mass. Lack of education, poverty, biased media and lack of suitable political alternatives restrict the efficacy of democracy to a large extent. Moreover, we are so pliable that we tend to be easily led by our noses and prefer to be fooled with tall promises. We never attempt to unite our voices so that an irresistible democratic force can be generated. We fail to do so because most of the persons who are now and then victimized by the indifference of an apathetic government ridiculously love to sit on their own ivory towers. They never exploit the power of democracy by forming a pressure group. No doubt, forming a pressure group requires strong sense of unity, fellow feeling and an open frame of mind and unfortunately we are not that great to cultivate such fine qualities of citizenship. But at present the gradually deteriorating national character warrants an urgent rejuvenation of our pre-independence patriotic fervor and revolutionary zeal.

Therefore, Shedding our little egos and self-interests we must accede to do what is right and desirable for the general benefit of the country. We may differ in opinion and beliefs but striving for the greater interest of the society collectively and honestly will pay rich dividends to our future generation. Moreover, the corrupt politicians and the unconcerned bureaucracy will be compelled to adjust with the changed scenario.