55 WORDS FICTION

The best gift a father can give to his kids is love their mother' and he had believed it with all his heart. He himself, a product of a broken home, wanted his son to have a home full of love, laughter and faith. He treasured her, pampered her, showered all his love and care still she dumped him.

Angelic face of her  sleeping son and the crestfallen, hunched figure of hubby haunted her conscience but she snubbed it. Opened the door of the luxurious limo, threw a  tantalising smile towards her companion and slipped on velvety seat. Closing her eyes she inhaled the perfume. To trade her epicurean indulgences for duty, no way.

Stings of  jealousy she  bore looking at her friends enjoying the pleasures and luxuries while she, a motherless child squirmed under the stringent rules of her strict disciplinary father,  has poisoned her heart. She has not abandoned her family as much as she has taken vengeance from her father. phew for the morals and ideals.

Cradling his son in arms he wondered what crime has he done to deserve this. Despite irresponsible behaviour of his parents he handled himself in a mature way. He discharged his duties properly. Should life not be led by the book of rules? Burying all his frustrations he once again rose to the occasion .

Standing away from the crowd at cremation ground she saw both father-son after twenty years. She came to know about her father’s death from obituary column. She watched her son performing the rituals solemnly and for the first time in life she experienced a bond of belongingness to her father.  Redemption of both father and daughter.

FOR BINA'S CHALLANGE ,LOOPING IN THE GIVEN WORDS,IN MAY 2011,LUCKNOW

   

MY GOLDEN TREASURE

Yes, all that glitters is not gold but all that is gold definitely glitters. Well, what is Gold other than that precious, most malleable and ductile metal. Why, consider that river of molten gold of  Wordsworth's daffodils stretching  up to miles and miles swaying gently, dancing rhythmically  with the wind, enriching Wordsworth's  moments of solitude with a splendor which I definitely find impossible to capture in words. Like him we all have a treasure of certain golden memories which when brought out from the deep recess of the heart light up our world with splendid  resplendence, bring out a smile when sad, reinstate our faith when we waiver. So, here I am with few of the golden gems of my treasure.

 It was that office hour rush time. A busy square of city. At the center of crossing stood a dry fountain encircled by iron railings/fence.The hot summer morning of North India.Traffic from all the directions passing in a disorderly erratic way .Every body was in a hurry. The bikes swished away, hoards of six seater and autos zoomed in and out in a haphazard way. City buses were trying to make their way with a grunt, huffing and puffing. Nobody wanted to be distracted even for a fraction of second. Everybody was in a hurry to reach the destination. I was sitting in one of the six seaters. It was waiting for other passengers. Suddenly I saw him, a man perhaps in his late thirties. He was tall, must be about six feet, well built. His attire and looks suggested that he must be hailing from nearby rural area. He had a girl of about 14 years in his arms. Her one leg was fully plastered, a boy of about five years was clutching his dhoti. He was trying to cross the road. With every passing vehicle he moved unsteadily trying to save his girl's plastered leg from getting hurt, ensuring that the little boy is safe and at the same time balancing the girl in his arms. He definitely needed help, but nobody seemed to even register his presence. I thought of getting down and help him to cross the road but then the keys of branch and cash keys weighed heavy in my purse. Those days I was posted in a rural branch and had to change  six -seater at three places to reach the branch. I will certainly be late if I got down. An image of crowd waiting outside the branch put shackles on my feet. Then those two young boys of about 14 years or so walked from behind our vehicle  with their school bags on their back and stood near it. They looked at the struggle of the man. One of them nodded his head. The other, though willing said, 'we will be late for school and then will be punished. The first one weighed the probability in his mind and then with a shrug of shoulders and that big bright smile said, have we never been punished before for our own carelessness and naughtiness so one more time...........and both of them crossed the road towards the man with confidant strides. Eighteen years have passed after this incident but it is fresh in my memory. The boys not only helped that man that day, they have handed over to me a source of joy and faith forever.

One more incident I remember. Almost thirty years has passed after this. For a short temporary period I taught in a nearby intermediate college.The section of 12th standard I was entrusted with had  number of girls who failed to clear their exams in earlier session, but these girls were really diligent. I encouraged and appreciated their efforts a lot. After mid term exams I was distributing the examination note books to girls and appreciated this girl a lot. I had marked her steady progress and her hard work and was really happy that she could score the marks competing with the brilliant ones of class. After the period I was in the staff room when I noticed this girl lurking near the door of the staff room. Guessed that she wanted to talk to me. I was alone in the staff room at that time. I called her in. She entered with bowed head. I was puzzled to see the sad expression in her face. She should have been very happy as today she was appreciated and  received applause in the class. I asked her if she wanted to say something and here is what she said, 'Miss, today you appreciated me in the class but I don't deserve it. You have so much faith in me I could not deceive you. I was feeling guilty. In fact I copied two answer from Supriya, who was sitting next to me in the examination hall. She extended the note book towards me, 'you can cut marks for those two answers. I shall be accepting this before whole class but I can not deceive you. you have always believed in us and I can not malign that faith'. For a few seconds I was non-plussed. The enormity of the sincerity displayed by that young girl filled my heart with awe and pride. With her courage she has entrusted a life long responsibility to me...to own up my mistakes with dignity. I hugged her and said, 'my dear girl, you deserve far more accolades and applause than what you got for those marks. I am blessed to have a pupil like you'. After that, so many times in life people have taken advantage of my trust and faith in them but every time that haloed face has beamed through the hurt and helped me to continue my faith in the intrinsic goodness of the human heart. 

I want to hug those kids whereever they are but most of the time the memories of those moments embrace me when I need the strength.

FEB 2011,LUCKNOW

  

EXPERIMENTING WITH HAIKUS...

 Honestly ,I don't know whether these can be called poetic expressions or not but I am here all the same ...............

 

                                                                              1
                                                              serene acceptance
                                                              restoring equilibrium
                                                               calmness pervades

 

 

                                                                            2
                                                                 awaken outlook
                                                                exploring abilities
                                                               reinstate faith in self

 

                                                                               3
                                                                uncluttered mind
                                                              control over emotions
                                                             walking to true and pure

(all pictures courtesy n copyright :  sunder iyer  )


OCT 2010,LUCKNOW

MERA WALA AMALTAS...

 I feel i have already shared with you my love for this tree.Since my those dreamy days of teens I have been madly  in love  with these golden bunches.So when we purchased our own home ,we planted this Amaltas sapling in front of our home.It grew to be a big tree.If not for high voltages electrical wires ,it would have become a real huge tree .But as is the case,come rainy season and  we have to get it cut.Despite that every summer it was the oasis of our street.A relief to eyes and soul during hot scorching afternoons.
Last August when we shifted back to our home after a gap of five years,I was pained to see the condition of my Amaltas.It was as if butchered .When needed we also used to get it cut but with proper care,the branches properly trimmed giving it an elegant  and proper look.But in our absence it's head was completely chopped off.Thin fleshless branches from that point were running hither thither ,as if in a desperate attempt to run away from that falling axe.,crying for help.
I was pained to see it's condition ,will be an understatement.It practically tore my heart.How I wanted to assure it that now I am here and everything will be fine once again. But looking at it i myself was not very sure.Then there were my neighbours ,who whenever found me looking at it said nodding there heads sadly 'namita the tree has perhaps dried up.for few years even leaves have not come up properly what to talk about flowers.'Somewhere deep down a voice cooed.........
though leafless
almost motionless
it's not dead
life runs
deep down
perhaps waiting silently
for the clock to run full circle.
I arranged to get the place below it cleaned and started watering and caring it besides sending my silent pleas to it.People noticed my efforts, they understood  my feelings also but in their a kind of sad and reluctant smile i could sense that they want to tell me that my efforts are futile. None of them had a  heart to voice their opinion openly, though some of them expressed their apprehension that watering such a big tree ,whose roots have gone deep down the earth does not make much difference.
 And then that morning, few weeks ago, i saw  two tiny bunches of yellowish green balls hanging from a branch.The balls were not yet open .Sprouting from that  stark naked tree those fragile bunches were re-instating my faith. My happiness knew no bound.It was coming alive.Now it's flowering like never before.This is the species of Amaltas which have more leaves than flowers not the kind which  is laden with only golden bunches.Earlier also it never bloomed in such  abundance though flowered every season.This time it's different .every branch is wrapped in golden yellow hue.every morning walker throws a glance up and feel refreshed.Smile of my neighbours have broaden and they openly proclaim,'dekho tumhara ped tumhare laut aane ki khushi mana raha hai'
We really feel welcomed back home.every morning when i threw the curtain open It reaches out to wish me a good day.Even with a soft touch of wind the flowers cascade down in rhythmic motion.Watching that mesmerizing view in blazing afternoon is akin to be part of a celebration.Part of road and the ground below the tree is carpeted with five petaled golden flower.The tree has made my days poetic and nights dreamy.
Here is mera wala Amaltas to wish you all a very happy summers-----

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 लो फ़िर विहंस उठी 

डाल अमलतास की

छलक उठा रस 

बात बीती प्यास की

अंग अंग रचे छंद

सुनहरे सपनो के संग

ठिये पे छांव तो, फ़िकर किसे

जेठ के ताप की

आने लगे सब इस तरफ़

सज उठी मेरी गली

बासंती होठों पर 

धुन थिरकी प्यार की

(all pictures by sunder iyer)

MAY 2010,LUCKNOW

ME BOUGAINVILLEA AND RADDIWALLAH..

Today  morning i was on my terrace with a cup of tea,enjoying the fresh breeze .The days have started becoming pretty hot but mornings are still quite refreshing.Did I hear a few of you muttering under your breath that mornings are always refreshing. No my dear, here in north in summers there are days when even early mornings are very hot and sultry.

Now I started straying even before I started writing. Let me try to catch the slipped thread. So, I was on the terrace. The usual morning scenes are morning walkers, kids cycling and of course Raddiwalas. Here we don't have shops to sell old newspapers and magazines. For two three hours in the morning many Raddiwalas take rounds of colony. One such man turned at the corner of street calling out in his usual high pitch voice. Nearing my home he slowed down the speed of his rickshaw. As I have not heard any of my neighbors calling him, I thought he was about to ask me whether I have old newspapers to sell. He stopped a few paces before my gate and climbed down his seat. Now I was watching him with a bit of curiosity. What happened next............

He took his mobile out of his old, somewhat torn trousers and....and clicked the Bougainvillea stretching on the boundary wall. This creeper of bougainvillea with profusely blooming bright magenta colored flowers is really a beauty. The color is so amazingly transparent bright and the flowers bloom in such abundance that my whole street appears to be full of hope and brilliance. After clicking the pic, he silently rode his rickshaw and paddled away quietly. Not even for a single time did he shout in his hoarse voice, till he turned at the other corner of the street. Was he in awe of nature or the beauty of Bougainvilleas casted a spell on him and he did not feel like breaking it's serenity.

Somehow his action made me very happy. I felt tiny wee hope surging inside me. Moreover I felt a kind of kinship with this man. So many people live in that street and so many more pass through it daily but seldom have I noticed anyone glancing towards it and never have I seen anybody to stop by to admire it's beauty. Here was he capturing the moment for keeps.

All of us have that innate sense of beauty.We feel happy to look and feel beauty in any form but we have buried that sense so deep down and immersed ourselves in the mundane affair with such zeal that most of the time we miss out on such moments of happiness.This Raddiwalah also must have his own share of worries and fights for survival still his sense of beauty remained awaken .He knew how to find moments of pure joy midst the drab daily routine.He also showed respect towards nature.He made me promise to myself that now onwards while passing through the busy city streets ,I shall be in look out for the glimpse of green leaves peeping through certain balconies ,tiny colorful full flowers on a window sill.We have already hurt and neglected mother nature a lot.It's time to show our gratitude in whatever ways we can.

The innate sense of beauty in a human being is related to the innate goodness in all of us.Let us nurture it.For keeping the daffodils alive one don't have to be Wordsworth always ,sometimes a Raddiwallah can also do that.

                      

When Divya was writing the comment ,I was exactly busy in getting done what she wanted.In fact Sunder was not at home at that time and I posted the blog in a hurry.Luckily he entered immediately i posted the blog.He clicked the pics for me..........Can't bear any body else's pics on my blog......LO....

MARCH 2010,LUCKNOW

LOVE IN HINDU MYTHOLOGY

Hindu mythology is replete with amazing love stories. Nowhere else have I found romantic love glorified and venerated in such pious and exhilarated way. Each of these stories depict varied aspects of love. The way these stories unfold the strength, the beauty and impacts of love not only on the individual but on the society as a whole, is really amazing. How our culture, faith and mythology eulogizes, idolizes this all-encompassing feeling, leaves me spell bound. Let us talk about a few mythological love stories.

 

Love story of Radha and Krishna is certainly one of the most enduring and immortal of all. This love story contains all the ingredients which could have made it the most disapproved affair. Radha and Krishna grew up in neighbouring hamlets. Even though Radha was married to some one else her love for Krishna reigned supreme in her being. Often neglecting the calls of duty she used to rush to be with Krishna. Krishna on his part after leaving Vrindavan almost never came to meet Radha. He married Rukmini and Satyabhama, yet Radha's whole being was infused with the love for Krishna. In my view this eternal love legend conveys that facts and statistics of a love story might be totally against the accepted social norms but it's the purity of emotions, the transcendental quality of love which makes it worthy of devotion and reverence. Radha's love for Krishna is akin to soul's longing to be ultimately submerged in the divine self. And Krishna, the incarnation of God, through  his deeds and actions made it clear to the world what does Radha mean to him. He, the supreme lord is subservient to her, to her selfless love. 

Radha, by surrendering herself totally to Krishna, glorified how one should give in to love and Krishna, by reciprocating equally, conveyed how the lover too should yield to the beloved’s devotion. On an earthly level we may conclude that there should be no ego between a loving couple. 

Then there are Ram and Sita. Unlike Radha and Krishna they are a married couple but their undying love and support as if thrives in separation. The periods of joyful togetherness and loving companionship might be sparse but there is no denying of their undeterred faith in each other. This is the love story where physical togetherness is sacrificed on the alter of duty. This kind of love conveys that sometimes for greater cause one might have to forsake the pleasure of the company of the person one loves. One has to bear the agonies of abandoning the one without whom one can not bear to think of one's existence. But then love and relationship between a couple is also a part of the bigger scheme. Besides this the story of Sita and Ram also talks about anguished human heart and reveals that pain, anguish and hurt are parts of life.

 

The love story of Shakuntla and Dushyant is mentioned in the great epic Mahabharta.  Dushyant was a king and Shakuntla, daughter of a sage. She was exquisitely beautiful. The story has a very interesting side plot as well.

Shakuntla was offspring of sage Vishvamitra and apsara Meneka. Meneka was sent from heaven to earth by Indra to entice and thus distract Vishwamitra from his tapasya.

Dushyant saw Shankuntla midst blooming flowers and green shady trees of ashram of the rishi. Well, cupid was sure to strike. Both of them fell in love. Gandharva vivah followed. After the honeyed period Dushyant returned to his kingdom, giving assurance to send an envoy to fetch his paramour. While departing he gave his signet ring to Shakuntala. Now a long wait starts for Shakuntala.  She got pregnant but due to the curse of sage Durvasa to her, king Dushyant forgot all about his meeting and marriage with Shakuntala. She visits king's court but he failed to recognise her. On the way Shakuntala had lost the signet ring. Every thing was happening under the impact of the curse. After a long time, the ring was recovered from the stomach of a fish in king's kitchen. What a dramatic twist of fate! The ring was shown to king. As per the clause of Durvasa’s curse Dushyant remembered everything as soon as he laid his eyes on the ring. He searched all over for Shakuntla and ultimately he was reunited with his wife and son Bharat. Happy ending!

The story of Nala and Damyanti, from Mahabharata, is also a story of several trials and turbulations but ultimately love conquers and the separated couple meet to live happily ever after. In this story of a beautiful princess and a handsome prince, the swan played as cupid. Gods and goddess created many obstacles by trying to trick Damyanti at swayamvar, where all the devtas presented themselves disguised as Nala. Later on destiny designed Nala to loose all his wealth and status. But Damyanti never wavered. Surmounting all obstacles love conquers.

Above all is the love story of Lord Shankar and Devi Parvati. Not a love couple in traditional sense of the term but this is the couple living and reliving their togetherness for many lives. This transcends the limits of life and death. Their companionship celebrates equality and inter-dependence of man and woman. For Parvati it was not easy to win over the divine ascetic Shankar. She did tapasya under very tough circumstances but ultimately she won over him. She is a beautiful affirmation of positive women power.

There are other love stories woven in the tapestry of our mythology that unfold varied vistas and aspects of love. But each of them declares in unison that love can also reach an exalted level and it may infuse in us an uncharacteristic strength and courage to survive all odds. In its purest form love is akin to divinity. When we love someone more than ourselves it is uplifting. It is unifying.

(Disclaimer: all pictures from internet.)

IN FEB 2010,LUCKNOW

CATCH 22....TAG GAME BY KALPITA

Well ,Kalpita has pushed us in that whirlpool of thoughts.The bitter sweet experiences of love...........to love and being loved is definitely a beautiful mix of contrasting feelings...............and each of it true and honest................

'na jao sainya,chhura ke bahiyan................' and 'jate ho jane jana,aakhiri salam lete jana.............' both the songs are different in mood and lyrics but the love and longing in both the songs is so perceptible.

There are days when it's like walking in a beautiful garden ,midst blooming flowers on a sunny day,arms in arms ,sharing all the worries,basking in that feeling of being special for some one.No difficulty looks big enough ,no obstacle unsurmountable.

But then there are rough thorny patches as well.We feel desolate,unhappy,lonely,as if groping in darkness.Nothing seems to work right.It's within reach yet we are unable to touch it.How can this be possible.That heart overflowing with love ,that concern...............how can it be blind to other's pain and torture.Mind is so full of confusion and heart as if is being shredded into pieces.

It's not only the new lovers' first argument but  even those who enjoy  a harmonious and lasting companionship experience the see-saw of the emotions.

It is often said and believed that in love one partner is always more sincere rather more invested emotionally than the other.The one who is more in love occupies one down position.but i feel  this can not be a static situation. In most of the cases both the partner are equally involved but then time to time depending upon mood and situation this one up and one down position is interchangeable.

Ever played tug of war ..........what?you feel it's all about who is more powerful .Do you think it's all about taking control.............no ,man...............one is drawing other with all the might towards oneself..............closer to heart.Well.that's love.Apparently some actions and reactions might look cruel and rude but may be the lover is trying hard to convey entirely opposite . Sometimes we hurt them most whom we love most.

Pleasure and pain are like two sides of the coin of love.Sufferings and hurt are an essential ingredients of love .Can we recall any love story without pain,without suffering.Still we long for love.To love and long for love is very humane.No ecstasy can evoke that rapturous mood if we are ignorant about agonies.All the roses come with thorns.

so in love we are always in that catch 22 situation.but who bothers.....jitne bhi tu  kar le......sitam,hans hans ke sah lege ham................and i know those who have enough love sustain through the paradox of love rather love gives power to walk through all  the rough patches,to conquer the unsurmountable.

 JAN 2010,LUCKNOW