A father in utter frustration

Yesterday I was watching a movie named ‘C COMPANY’. A scene touched my heart where a father entertains the customers of a big shopping mall by playing the part of a cartoon-cock. Poverty makes him jump like a hen. His son is unaware of his identity and when he confronts his father’s status he hates and leaves that place in disgust along with his mother. The father, who has just taken off the mask of the cartoon- cock and stands in utter despair and agony, is all in tears.  The mother and child left him alone in a deep sea of frustration and heartache. He is agonized because he could not prove himself to be a good father-he is a miserable weakling, completely defeated by the ruthlessness of society.

Tears sparkled in my eyes. My heart was purified in such an impeccable presentation of human FAILINGS. I saluted the actor RAMPAL YADAV for his powerful acting skills. He is a dwarfish actor but his size proved to be a strong point in driving the act straight into heart……. SIZE DOES NOT MATTER, WHAT LIES INSIDE DETERMINES THE RESULT.

I would like to spill some of my feelings that have a parallelism with the trampled father. ……………. No I won’t but I must say that I love my wife a lot because with me she has lots of insecurities and no guarantee. Still she is struggling to welcome a fine morning when the sky will glitter with a radiant sun and the birds will be happily flying.

After a three-day-break from updating my blog, all of a sudden a variety of feelings popped up in me taking a definite shape. And the nucleus of those emotions was our newly declared examination centre for conducting the AHS Examination. After a 5 years’ wait our college was accorded the exam centre. The students of our college appeared the exam under our invigilation.

Today is the first day of examination and the exam was conducted very smoothly and strictly. After the examination duty when I was returning from the college I was really proud because we had given due respect to our profession and the examination code of conduct in both letter and spirit.

International women's day

It is 1 pm in the night on 8th March, the international women’s day and I am still awake.
I spent the day as usual but when I was about to switch off my mind and go asleep, I was suddenly prompted to open my laptop to pen down few of my feelings about the women folk.
I thought in all possible directions for some minutes, felt a volume but failed to express. However, few words danced in my mind during the process of my thinking and some of them are LOVE, SOFTNESS OF HEART, PATIENCE, BEST FRIEND, etc. The more I thought, the more grateful I became towards all those women who had influenced me in some way or the other.
In the stillness of night I saluted those numerous human forms, who move embodying all these noble attributes of humanity, and we call them WOMEN.

A big snake crossed my road......

A big snake (cobra) crossed my road in the afternoon. As a result, in the evening I lit the bulb, which was fixed outside of my quarter, and kept it burning till midnight. I plugged the hole in the bathroom that drained the water because that hole seemed to me a welcome passage to the split-tongued-reptile. I looked for the torch and replaced the cells. And now…..I thought philosophically, LIFE IS UNCERTAIN AND SHORT. A small bite, and the next moment I might be a cause of a condolence meet in the educational institution where I teach. Still I live with my inflated egos. I do not live naturally. Always there is pretending of something else other than me. So for a moment I thought with a deep breath that I will live a life in its natural flavor. I shall connect myself with my true feelings that are noble on the human scale and I shall never manure the ill-feelings that always subsist on the thick substratum of my ego.

A lot of philosophizing………

I went to bed and saw a dream where I was fondling a baby child of Drasthi Dhami. I also saw that the snake had taken a human form and was travelling with me on my bike. But I could sense that the snake was full of respect and fear for me. Everything was weird but I enjoyed.

In the morning I found that I had slept longer than the time table. And the moment I got up I straight went into the bathroom. Firstly, I unplugged the hole that I had choked yesterday out of fear of the snake. I took a deep breath and told myself, “Let me live my life naturally. Dar ke age jeet hota hey”

Vaccination that pricked into heart

Yesterday my cute one-month-old son was taken to the paediatrician for vaccination. He was happy and warm in his mother’s hand. He looked like an angel free from all worries and troubles. He was sleeping tranquilly. Both the mother and the child looked so calm. He believed his mother’s lap as the safest place on earth and his mother felt good because she was like an ocean of love for the little creature. The mother-child relationship was an exchange of many silent, yet powerful human sentiments.

But these calmness soon vanished. When the turn of my baby for vaccination came, my wife started to shudder in fear at the sight of the needles and the injection syringe. The paediatrician took the baby from the hands of my wife and pricked the needles into the veins of my son. The innocent silence and complacent looks of the baby suddenly turned into a heart-rending cry. I could feel that in that cry there was a deep pain of a shattered faith. The baby’s cry bore the hidden meaning, “Mother, whom can I believe now? I am not safe even in your lap. In your presence how somebody could put me in pain!” 

The baby’s cry brought tears in the eyes of my wife. Both the mother and the child cried together and I stood silent like a stupefied spectator.   

be sensible while riding/driving.

Two days back I had a bitter argument with one of my colleagues. There accrued a lot of negativity. The first immediate consequence of the argument was a ‘No further talk with you state of mind’. He went away from the office in high temperature. I smiled and cared a fig about him. And now, by chance, when he crosses my way or I happen to share some space around him he suddenly accelerates the bike to the maximum and speeds up unnecessarily releasing a good deal of dust mixed smoke. How easily in a human tussle, his two-wheeler that is a machine is involved to express his rancour.

Few years back, when I was a student of Post-Graduate, once I got terribly angry at the-then girl friend of mine and in a mood of extreme anger, I rushed my 250cc Yezdi motorbike on the road. My girl friend turned her face in dejection and went away from me walking on the road. In a state of fury, I sped up my bike. I went like a bullet on the road and suddenly I jumped over a colossal hump. I lost the balance & control of my bike and suddenly faced death wing by my side. It was God’s grace that a truck heading from the other side evaluated my recklessness and applied a sudden brake and I narrowly saved.

The moral of the story is three-fold.

First: Man should not show off their anger by rash handling of machines. (Here bikes)

Second: Women should not leave their husbands/boyfriends go ditched when they are in the possession or in the close proximity of a machine.

Third: ‘ANGER’ is one word short of ‘DANGER’. If bike is lost, a new bike can be procured; If a girlfriend/boyfriend is lost, a new friend can be arranged in a short while but if LIFE is lost, the game is over. So be sensible while riding/driving.

Follow the Conscience.

A hope winks in the heart but soon disappears and hides from view. Like a flash of lightening, it comes into sight for a moment and then vanishes in the thickness of dark. The hopefulness appears as a colourful bright rainbow but a moment later, it dissolves in the unknown. The mind often soars to commanding heights with the wings of positive imagination but soon descends to the ground level and feels deadly inert. ...... .......... This happens to most men in most of the time. In the spur of a moment, we think the grandest things but after a short while, all the high-end expectations and resolutions dash to the ground.


A bud turns into a flower. A caterpillar becomes a butterfly.

All these beautiful changes around me make me yearn enthusiastically to fly high with the wings of a developed personality. However, I always have found myself cocooned in my shell like the caterpillar for long. Why? Why do I stay so limited? My youthfulness is everyday threatened by an approaching old age but I am not conscious to be active to break my little shell and come out with winged-metamorphosis. Life has become sluggish and monotonous. There is no flip.

In such dark moments, life inevitably needs a spiritual touch to realize the highest meaning of itself. But whom to follow? How to realize the meaning of life? The answer is very simple.

The seeds of spiritual flower will start manifesting when every moment of life is lived on the guidelines of conscience. The present world full of religious differences confuses the mind. But conscience never confuses rather it diffuses all the impurities and makes the human spirit glow in full bloom.

So.......... FOLLOW THE CONSCIENCE. It is because Even When There Is No Law There is CONSCIENCE.

Career Vs Affluence & distraction

Those lower middle-classed bright students who go to the metros in want of quality education face various types of emotional and financial challenges. Yesterday a brief chitchat with one of my old girl-students brought to my notice that studying away from family and parents afflicts the students with an utter loneliness. As a result, they fall on their peers for emotional support or needs- mostly on the friends of opposite sex and obviously end up in a messy love entangle.

In addition, the stylish and expensive restaurants, massive malls, specialized shops, glittering multiplexes, amusement parks easily divert the minds of the youngsters from their sole aim of study and career. All these things also build up undue pressure on their purses and young minds as well.

That student informed me that there are many students, whose both the parents are salaried and normally the ATM of a salary account of either of the parents remains with such students. Consequently, those students flaunt their money and cause inferiority to meritorious but poor students studying with them.

Last night I was viewing a tele-serial named PYAR KI YE EK KAHANI on StarOne channel. I am not a regular viewer of any television series but in that episode, I came across a witty remark that I would like to share with by readers.

- The scene opens with an apprehension whether Piya, a poor and orphaned but extremely meritorious student, will get the yearly scholarship or not. The scholarship is the only hope for the continuation of her studies. As a result, Piya is desperately anxious and keeping her fingers crossed. At this time an affluent girl student rudely comments, “Who cares for this worthless scholarship! My father can afford my studies.” Piya remains silent in deep mental agony but her friend wittily defends her by a sarcastic remark, “Yes, your parents can afford your studies but they can not only afford a brain transplant, which is most required in your case.”

20th Feb'11

Like the slides of a power point presentation, many happy and sad episodes of life are fast moving. The last 6 to 7 days were very eventful. A district collector has been abducted and the public shudders in fear. In sympathy all the district officials have shut down their offices till the safe release of the collector. And our college is also closed for an indefinite period. Roads are blocked and we have been remaining sealed in the district for 5 days. We witness complete lawlessness in the district.

Yesterday a group of boys came like gangster to the college campus to meet a girl. The girl crossed the hostel wall and without informing the hostel-in-charge attended to her lover.

Police is not found. They are like the commoners in civil dress. Life is so when I sat to write the post.

V-Day musings.

On the day of love i.e. valentine’s day, when the world practises love, I closed the doors and windows of my room & played some beautiful songs.


In the depths of melody, I remembered my wife who was away from me and I remembered how she is single-handedly nurturing our one-month-old baby at her paternal home. I remembered the face & the very characteristic pose of my baby ,who suckled nourishment from her mother, while putting his hands in a prayerful pose.

For the first time when I had detected that pose of my baby while suckling milk, I had commented to my wife that the baby offered Namaskar (A Hindu way of expressing respect by joining the palms of both hands) to you out of gratitude. We both had laughed looking at the half-sleepy baby who suckled milk with his hands still in Namaskar pose.

Gratitude is the little sister of love. A feeling of gratitude can tremendously herald feelings of great-love.

The most unfeeling Vs The Unknown

I was numb. I had become insensitive to life.  Each of my cells was empty. I sat with my eyes closed. I groped my heart to catch some feelings but I was empty. I had completely become a hollowed man- an exhausted utter emptiness. My heart was anaesthetic. It only beat mechanically. I desperately needed to feel life. I needed to feel feelings but I failed. I crossed my fingers and closed my eyes. Nevertheless, my own emptiness overpowered me and my heart went on beating mechanically.

The wall clock ticked... tick...tick...tick...tick...minutes passed by but I remained the same. An unfeeling stony heart. I forcefully tried to remember the Valentine’s Day, the beautiful faces, lovely roses, my college life, the poorest of the poor, the hungry crying children but nothing worked. It was the severest of heart-attack-not physical but emotional- that arrested all of my human sensibilities and I became like a machine that was hard metallic & ruthless.

Like a drowning man gasping for breath, I desperately needed some human feelings in my heart but I miserably missed them. I could not determine what to do so that I could restore the suppleness of my heart.

Nothing worked.....my hopes disintegrated. All my efforts dissolved in that dead empty silence of a materialistic heart and I remained as THE MOST UNFEELING. THE MOST UNFEELING.....

The temple bells of the nearby temple tolled with a chant of morning Arati..... 

I raised my heavy head and with my unfeeling heart & spoke to THE UNKNOWN,

“After a long time I need to pray you because today when I closed my eyes I discovered that I have become very empty. Everything out of me has been drained out and I urgently need the sensibilities of a human being.

I do not know whether you exist or not but you are a great solace to me now because when I tried everything and failed, your Arati and the temple bells reminded me of you. In short, when I found none by my side you seemed to be very easily available. You can be easily available because if you exist than my problems and emptiness will discover you and even if you do not exist than my weaknesses will invent you. In either case, you will appear before me even if I lose everything. And I need you to solve my problem instantly.” I was interrupted for a while. My mobile started ringing but I continued my murmuring,

“ Excuse me God, my sister is calling to my mobile I have to talk to her....... 

-Hello, Mama( name of my sister), Tell me...

She told nervously from the other side -After few hours my exam results will be declared. I am very nervous.

With strange confidence, I told her-Do not worry I will tell God. You are getting a first-class. Call me after 2 hours now I am busy with God”

My confident voice made her unimaginably elated. She replied happily with a burst of laughter,

“After the result declaration we will plan for a holiday-trip”

I very confidently told her,” Sure. Today evening we will plan for the trip.  ”

She disconnected the phone from her side happily and I told to God, “You are realy very useful. Therefore I must believe in your existence.”

Class 5 Girl friend &movie

I was late to my school. Carrying all the books of class V in my unusually big school bag, I hurriedly entered into the classroom.  

I heaved a sigh of relief as the class teacher had not arrived yet.

But my delayed and nervous entry into the class room made my class mates burst into a roaring laughter. A girl-student of my class that day had promptly and sarcastically commented, “Silence friends, in a hurry our class-monitor has come straight from his bed without washing his face. It is not good to laugh at somebody’s problem.” I felt a little insulted and looked at her angrily. But that day my angry looks had turned into great surprise when my eyes detected an extremely cute girl sitting beside my taunting critic.

That cute girl was obviously a new comer. Her bob-cut hair (the name of that hair style was of course unknown to me at that time), dangling ear rings, a unique t-shirt which did not match our school uniform, all sent waves of some strong hitherto unknown emotions into my whole-being. Something flashed in me. I wanted to be smarter suddenly. I wanted to show my cleverness immediately before that new girl. And I had a rejoinder to the comment, “Oh my dear Grandmother! First tell me why you came here (to the class room) without giving me water to wash my face. “

My reply caused a flicker of smile on that lovely face. Perhaps that smile had first made me understand the dictionary meaning of the word, “Beautiful”. I was invariably a good student but that day I switched to the best in me. Throughout the class I felt extremely energetic, smart and super attentive due to some strange reason. I strongly wanted to talk to that girl. It was irresistible. It became unbearable after two periods in the school. The mere sight of her quickened my heartbeat. At the end of second period when the teacher went to another class, I went near her. She was little bit unprepared for that. I was equally confused but I spoke to her in English only to impress her. Neither was that language my mother-tongue nor I had the slightest ability to speak English. But I spoke because I had to be different from others. I madly wanted to be unique in her eyes. Many things happened in me simultaneously but I was not able to understand what was happening to me.

With the last bell of the school, everyone of my class started capering happily in the joy of freedom and at the thought of home-coming. But I was the only boy who was terribly sad. I was sad because with the end of the school hours, my proximity with the girl was about to end. I felt heavy. The smartness of the class disappeared and I was on the verge of crying. With some deep pain I departed from her and consoled myself that tomorrow at the school time once again I could see her.

In home I was so different. All the time her face appeared before my eyes. I remembered her smile, her bob-cut hairstyle, dangling ear rings, her unique t-shirt, etc.  I derived an extra-ordinary elation whenever I thought about her but I failed to understand what I wanted.

In the evening my parents were watching a movie on TV. I never liked movies because most movies would cause me cry. I watched movies only when there was that characteristic Dhisoom…Dhassam (fight) between characters. But that day something different happened to me.  I saw a man holding the hand of a woman and slowly and slowly going near her. The woman closed her eyes and the man touched her lips with his lips. Suddenly something electric happened in me. I could suddenly understand the deep bond between the pair. I sat silently with my parents and started watching the movie. In the commercial breaks the name of the movie flashed and I remember the name of that movie was ‘Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak’.

In the end of the movie the woman dies and the man also dies but the deep bond in them slowly and slowly entered into my understanding. I took my meal with my father silently. I went to bed but I could not sleep. I thought about that classmate girl and I thought about the strong friendship between the man and woman. I thought and thought and thought and finally wished to have a strong friendship with that girl as I had viewed in the movie.

Next morning in school……….

Arohan- The Ascend

Dark clouds had covered the sky. The moon and the stars had hidden their faces & a dark night was ruling all over. The entire world slumbered on, unaware of what is happening.

But Raman, a school teacher, was sitting thoughtfully in the feeble light of a half-finished candle. His life was exactly like the half-burnt candle which struggled hard against the dark forces of nature.

In the dimly lit low thatched hut his one-month old son was sleeping by his mother after drawing a stomach full of milk. The sleeping mother and the sleeping child radiated an aura of trust in Raman’s fatherhood. But he was a wanderer in the labyrinth of uncertainties.

Raman looked admiringly at his wife. She was a wonderful women. Since the day she married him she had to live life in serials, installments and a meager salary of a school teacher. However, god had always been gracious enough to fetch them all the basic amenities of life. The thing that hurt Raman most was that he had neither any bank balance nor any security for a stable family life. His life was uncertain and unpredictable like weather.

He had always felt an enormous urge to emerge as a national leader who will bring revolutions and reformations in the society he lived. He had the ability to speak like a great orator but he had never found the necessary support and platform to blossom. Time elapsed year by year and like a candle he burnt and his light was limited only to a small village school.

This night when the cloud was the thickest and the night was the darkest, he came out of his little hut. He spread his hands and looked upward with a prayerful heart. He imagined himself to be a venerated leader. He could imagine a great mass following him. He forgot all his frustrations. He forgot his poverty. He forgot his littleness and imagined himself as a great authority who had shaped a new world where prevailed peace, prosperity and happiness. He resigned himself to the divine will. It was still dark. He started climbing up the nearby hill with his arms widely spread and the mind intoxicated with a divine frenzy. He got to the top of the hill. He prayed for the power and wisdom of the almighty. He felt a strange oneness with all the trees that look like shadows in the darkness. He felt the oneness with the rocks that stood unmoved. The night whispered in veneration recognizing his presence. The clouds congregated saluting his divine aspiration and a lightning flashed as a new hope in the midst of utter despair. He felt the communion of the almighty consoling his bleeding heart. His mind and body calmed. He felt an inward peace. The insecurities of life evaporated from his mind like the morning mist. His fervent prayers returned to him as the eternal goodness of love and humanity. He felt within himself the spirit of world teacher and felt to be above all mundane things.

He returned to his hut again and saw a beatific smile flickering across the face of his sleeping son lying by his wife. And the candle still burning and spreading its light and warmth with a renewed conviction.

a growth in my absence

After a tiresome journey of 30 hours I reached at Baliapal. I washed my hands to take my son into my lap. But he was busy in sucking his mother’s milk. I could not disturb him. So I waited looking at him and his mother.

After a few minutes, curling and stretching the limbs in half sleepy state my son welcomed me. He looked little matured and smelt like antibiotic tablets. When I asked my wife why the baby smells so medicated, she told that the baby is taking multivitamin drops. I felt relaxed. At least the perceived effect has a cause known to us. I say it because it is often too difficult to determine the right causes of the various types of behavior patterns of the baby.

Today he lifted and moved his hands in all possible directions but as he had little control on his body parts, the movements of his hands and legs trembled like that of a person who is too old. I intently looked at the movement of the baby and the expression on his face. It seemed as if he had to struggle hard to adjust with the hostile environment.

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.