AND MILES TO GO BEFORE I SLEEP

I must have done something very nice in my previous birth that in the most beautiful day of my life till date may 29 ,1991 I was sent to the most supportive and understanding family. I think every person will call their family to be the same but my family is genuinely the kingdom of love. It was not quiet affordable for my family by then but I can say I was born with a pure golden spoon. I was always pampered and cared by everyone. Some of the members are quiet introvert but I know they care for me even if they don’t display. Apart for a golden spoon there was a golden stick to for making me move in a right path. It makes me realize of what I am in every stage of my life. When I was small I use to think why I am in this place? What are all these going on? I was very small at that time people can’t answer my innocent question because I was quiet small to understand the big bang theory and all other big heavy words which still now kills us in exams. Then my fantasying mind plays its game and I created a believer of mine that may be we all are actor and actress just like Ekta Kapoor serials do, there may be some hidden cameras somewhere in the house. May be our shows were telecast in god’s televisions. I have asked many about these questions but till now the answer of these questions is blank. While having a morning walk with my father I always notice s lots of pigeon in the ways and always wonder what if I also have wings. I will go and find out what is beyond the blue blanket and where it end and who tear its cotton out to make different pictures and who stitches them. I still now think the same. The matured Einstein Boyle’s law alpha omega brain now still has the sweetness of childhood. May be the golden stick was wand very softly which made me more than a little bit of immature. I may not have the power to prove myself to the world who and what I am? But still I struggle to do it. And I know someday I will prove it at least to myself to get those blank lines filled of those questions. Just like a long dark night journey in a fuggy and dusty road of Pune to Mumbai, the path of our life is unfolding in a slower pace little by little. I don’t know what the other turn will take me to. I don’t care for future I never have and I always think that is my mistake but I honor the mistake too. Let it be what it is there is no time to sit and analysis in this point because it’s evening by now and I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.

CHARACTER OF A PERSON

The creativity of a person‘s soul is what we call as character. It is the fluid that reflects ones heart. Character is not just what we try to display for others to see, it is who we are even when no one is watching but god. The great Abraham Lincoln once said, “Reputation is the shadow. Character is the tree.” It is the foundation for all true success. A person may have money, position, or power, but unless he has character he or she is not considered to be truly successful. Character is not a birth mark that is firm and constant which we acquire from the time we first cried. It is just a charioteer of learning. The character that we experience in our life by many mentors gradually becomes our own character. The footprints of many great people in the sand of time are the tools of these mentor used to build up our character. People eventually neglect our forefather bad deeds and image themselves as someone beyond perfect to make them our role model or hero. But the fact is these so called heroes and heroines are ordinary crowd and nobody under the sun is “perfect”. But in the face of a character builder they are. There is not a single society born in this earth till date that has the bitterness to teach its world what is not perfect. So the character of a person follow is basically the character of the so called great people which is been drained out in the candle of principles and values. But at the end of the day from the good character of the heroes and heroines we can see what character this society cherishes and by this way we can know something about the inner world of the people surviving in it. To sum up, heroes and heroines are more often than not realistic figures and if we try to understand the character of a society through the understanding of its heroes and heroines we should take great care because of the false image they may represent. Nevertheless, it is still a useful way for us to get a better understanding of the character of a society indirectly. Like the great lord Buddha once said Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it.  Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many.  Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books.  Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders.  Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations.  But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.

THE GOLDEN PERIOD OF LIFE

Life is a four letter word so simple yet complex to define. In a toddler sweet fantasy land of dolls and toys, life is when her father comes home from a long tour with lots of chocolate. In teenager so called mature language, life is when she talks to her first crush. Life is when a mother holds her child for the first time in her hand. And for an aged woman life is when her son comes home. When we were small we always wanted to grow big so that we can catch hold of the jar of cookies which mom has kept in the upper floor. But now when we look back to the sand of time we feel it was better to act stubborn and obstinate in front of mom for the cookies than to get it ourselves. Even a multi millionaire can give all his income for a moment of childhood memories. Those were most priceless days in the whole life time. The value of childhood memories has been beautifully describe in the words of Jagit Singh ‘daulaut bhi le lo sahraut bhi le lo, chinlo mujhse meri jawani, magar mujhko lautado vo bachpan ki yaadien, vo kagaz ki kasti vo barish ka pani’. There was sweetness in each quarrel that we had with our siblings, a nostalgic rhythm in each cry, and an ocean of knowledge in each drop of tears. Those were the best days of life. Mom and dad both were the writer of our story and even today though they pretend much to make us realise they are unaware and less worried about what is going in our life but they still are. Our world restricts itself among playground, school, home and our close one. Days started with a soprano of our nick name in sweet melodious rhythms of mother’s voice which uses to be the strict alarm clock. There was something in her voice which always carries us in right path even if the disastrous world blinds us. Each morsel becomes delicious no matter what it is when mom make us eat it. As if she has cast some spell which turn the worst food into delicious when she make us eat in her hand. School is the cherry in the cake of the memories. Apart from the homework school there was hardly any reason for not going to school. It felt like we are the Isaac Newton when there comes with a voice ‘very good’ from the teacher to our answer. The definition of true friend is justified for the childhood friends. They are the best supporter both in good things as well as bad one. Punishment has a different meaning when one is with his friends. During exams we use to sleep with the books under the pillow and dreaming about discovering alpha omega. We had a list of excuses for each problem. I remember during rainy days we use to get wet in rain even if we have rain coat with us. Playing in the rain and mud and making fun of each other was all we do in the way to home. We use to gossip in between the roads laughing and shouting for hours together now these things has changed to unsophisticated and unmannered. And at home the pampered of dad makes the picture complete. The games which we play with our friends are completely different from that of siblings. There is more of responsibility and respectability when we are with sibling. I use to protect my sister in the game even if we were rivals. Everyday has a new lesson and new experience. Combine studies during exams had honesty in it. Now these combine studies has more of competition them studies perhaps. The wheel of time and the termites of worldly rules and values have taken away the innocence of our childhood. Acting childish in our decisions is considered to be the work of foolish. To live peacefully in this society we have to judge our decisions again and again. Even our own people are not trust worthy. In these stressful time of our life lets remind our lovely days which we have left behind our grandma’s lap. Let’s try to find ourselves in the smile of a baby, in mischief of a small kid, in the struggle to prove something of a boy. Let not restrict them from the things they are doing, we have enjoyed ours let them enjoy theirs ‘golden period of life’.

CHARMS OF NATURE

CHARMS OF NATURE IN CHILDHOOD If a supernatural being comes and asks to grant somebody a wish, I think the most appropriate wish would be to rewind the cassette of life and get back to the ‘no worry’ days form this elusive day with money minded harshness and fake persons. Childhood days are the most wonderful days of one’s life. Those are the days where the artist just like portraying a live picture doesn’t care about the backdrop of the picture; likewise childhood is the period when we don’t care about the future or the past; we leave the present just like a present by God. Childhood is most attached to the nature than the materialistic world. My childhood was like a ski in the snow where scratched knee, splashing in the rain, looking at the stars at night, nagging at silly things, crying just like sky crying during rainy days and laughing like thunder, geting happy by very petty notions was fun. And with world gathering it’s more than anything else. We use to go my maternal place during summer vacation. And it was really fun there with my dada and dadi. Tasty tasty food, yummy jelly and jam, chatpatti chutney and pickles, sweet and salty mango and hot and sweet jalebi was what my vacation was all about. There was a magnificent guava tree in the garden standing and spreading its frock. It was the tree which taught me to see life in a new way in the nature‘s way. At night it became a ghost tree with shiny white bloodless skin whereas day time it became Princess Diana among the trees in the garden. Whenever I and my cousins got some time, we used to go to the guava tree to pick guava from there. They used to climb whereas I was just trying to do so. When days passed, I grew older, I got the certificate to have a trial to climb the giant tree, my brother and sister helped me. First of all I was pulled to the first branch by my guardians and then one branch after other. I managed to get to the top most floor of the tree. I felt as if I was in my dad’s arms viewing a fantastic world. I felt both scared and delightful at the same time .Within a blink of eye I went to a different world. I can see miles from the point. It might be so that God be sitting on the top most branch of the tallest tree just like me and seeing the world. Once I became expert in climbing I used to go there whenever I felt lonely. I used to view the sun rise and the sunset. The change in the color of the sky from orange to red to pink then black was the most beautiful thing my guava tree showed me. It was as if God was conducting some chemical experiment on titration. I used to hug the tree supposing that one of her hands would tilt towards me to my throne. Sometimes I used to talk to her and she replied but she kept on thinking most of the time. She started becoming my friend keeping my secrets and protecting me. The sweetest guavas of her were named for me just like the best teacher of Robert Frost “the story of my lost friend”.

Unanswered Questions

India, the heart of beauty, the valiant warrior, has fought many invasions. With a heart of gold, the loving mother welcomes all and maintains harmony at home. Around the globe, India, the Unity in diversity is popularly known as the Heaven of the world. Praises for India can never end. Like the great saying ‘farther the mountain more beautiful is the view’, a crocodile may be lurking beneath the pious lotus. Without a doubt India is one of the most magnificent countries on the earth. But the termite of terrorism is eating up the beauty of the country. Murders, bombs, rapes, robberies, etc has become the kitchen stories. People now hardly panic about the brutal things going on in everyday life. Today Indians take these in their stride along with swine flu and inflation. Its reputation is no less than the daily breakfast table gossip in a family. Each common person is determined to change the system of the country but the mountain of obstacle, quickly converts that determination into acceptance. The bomb blast in Mumbai forced me to think about the system. Why only India? Why do Indians suffer every time? Since 1993 there have been more than 20 blasts in the commercial capital. Why the government is still watching each bloody scene of terrorism like an impotent spectator. Just by declaring it a terrorist attack doesn’t help the injured or deter the criminal. Action is necessary!!  

The terrorist attack made me realize with disgust how rotten our system is, how we can never harm them no matter how mercilessly they kill us. The perpetrator of 26/11 Ajmal Kasab is still alive. Isn’t it shameful? The one who killed so many innocent people is still alive? Our symbol of justice is a blindfolded lady holding a balance .Does it mean we are blind to weigh the fact or that we have become blind to the truth about what is really going on? Does it mean that common man will deal with a statue of stone and it shows no compassion?

'NATIONAL ANTHEM' only for children

The bio data of a country is what we call an anthem. It is the piano which is used to praise the country in each and every respect one can in the sweetest tune. It is that which shows the preface of a country. It is what makes us proud of and makes our head held high in the sky. It is the voice which gives us an identity all over the country. When someone hears the national anthem outside his country, he respects it proudly by standing up and telling his fellow beings to see how proud he is for his country. But in one’s own country this thing becomes very common like the waste dumping grounds in India. Like the old British saying “A prophet is never acclaimed at home”, Indian national anthem is what suits itself in prophet’s shoes. India had been through loads of autumn till today. And throughout this autumn, the national anthem is the root that has been holding the country to overcome this adversity. India’s national anthem was written in highly sanskrited (tatsama) Bengali language composed and scored by Nobel laureate Rabindra Nath Tagore;The thakur. And its first 5 lines are written in the most purest script that is bramho script. Since the day it was born and brought up, it has been encouraging the Indians. It was first sung at the Calcutta session of the National Congress on the 27^th of December 1911. Seeing the influential tune of this song, it was officially adopted by the constituent assembly as the Indian National Anthem on January 24, 1950. Since independence, people have been taking birth with a silver spoon of freedom as a result they lack the enthusiasm which was there with our freedom fighters. So, the so called higher authority people had made it compulsory for every school to recite National Anthem every day during the assembly. I remember when in a cosy uniform, I used to stand in a row and recite the National Anthem each and every working day. But after school it just became a memory; it has got a sweet place in my memory.  Sometimes I wonder the Anthem is only for children what about the real citizens of India?? Strange! The persons who don’t respect India’s culture are regarded as citizens not the ones who every single day remind the former that guys this is what we call Indian Anthem do you know it’s full version? We are in doubt; we are the future; we will respect the National Anthem but what about the present?? People take it as a joke when somebody sings it occasionally. I wonder what will happen if somebody makes it his ringtone. I really think sometimes that does every so called citizen of India( the adults above 18 years) know “Jana Gana Mana” in full version, its meaning and its composer. And if they do not know how can they call themselves Indian. Seeing cricket match and encouraging Indian team is not merely a respect or flame for proving that you are an Indian. Independence Day has become one more hang out day for each and every citizen of India. 90% people wonder; in the Independence Day why this damn song is always played in their localities, will somebody let me sleep peacefully in this “holiday”. And to show their so called love and fire for the Indian National Anthem, they spread rumours about our National Anthem as the “best anthem” by United Nations. It is better not to disrespect anything if you do not have the courage to respect it.