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The Book that brought Ponds to life was written by Anupam Mishra

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TOI article- 14/9/25 THE BOOK THAT BROUGHT PONDS BACK TO LIFE

Book Title: “Aaj Bhi Khare Hain Talaab (Ponds Are Still Relevant)” by Anupam Mishra
“Translated into eight languages and available in Braille, Anupam Mishra’s book has quietly sparked a revolution in water conservation across villages — one pond at a time”   
    What do you call a book that was first published without the author’s name on the cover, which has no copyright and encourages the reader to use it for free in any form, inspires common people to spend money from their own pockets and translate it, can be read in atleast nine languages, including Marathi, Bengali, Tamil, and also in Braille, has been broadcast by atleast 20 radio stations with over two lakh copies published, has almost become a holy book for water warriors and, yet, remains largely unknown to the educated public.
    Anupam Mishra’s ‘Aaj Bhi Khare Hain Talab (The Ponds Are Still Relevant)’ wasn’t launched in a farmhouse or nominated for major literary awards. But the book has become a movement. Spread over a frugal 119 pages, it reveals how ponds and lakes were fundamental to life and livelihoods across the country, and how their construction, preservation, and regeneration were embedded in community fabric-guided both by science and deeper philosophical values.
    First published by the Gandhi Peace Foundation in Hindi in 1993, the book continues to find fresh readers in new languages and forms. This year, it has been made accessible online in a disability-friendly e-text, says Kailash Pande of Delhi Blind School.
    Ramon Magsaysay award recipient Rajendra Singh says that at a time when headlines rapidly shift from drought to flood, the book remains as relevant as ever. “The change in weather patterns is an outcome of climate change and global warming. The book shows how to adapt to and mitigate the current crisis,” says Singh, whose NGO Tarun Bharat Sangh also shaped Mishra’s early ideas.
    Chasing Indigenous Wisdom:
    Aaj Bhi … was born out of Mishra’s extensive travels as a seeker and surveyor of India’s interiors in the 1980s. Mishra spoke less, listened more. A Gandhian by belief and environmentalist in action, he discovered a tradition of water-saving techniques in arid Rajasthan. In areas he couldn’t visit, Mishra sought the aid of friends and fellow travellers, naming each of them in the book. “The book harnessed indigenous water wisdom scattered across the country,” says social activist and old-time colleague Rakesh Dewan.
    At the turn of the 20th century, India had 11-12 lakh ponds, the book says. Mishra referenced the 1907 gazetteer to show that the princely state of Rewa in north-eastern Madhya Pradesh had 5,000 ponds. The early 20th-century Madras Presidency was home to 53,000 ponds. Who would believe that in the early 20th century, Delhi had 350 ponds, as a 1930 map illustrates. Dewan says that officers posted to Jabalpur during the British Raj were advised not to bring fans because the ponds there ensured a cool weather.
    The book also details the craft of building ponds and devotes a chapter to their anonymous creators. Mishra illustrates how, for centuries, communities such as the Odhs, the Gonds, and the Ramnamis had dedicatedly constructed ponds. Such acts often cut across the caste spectrum. Building ponds was also part of the financial system. “Those who built ponds in the kingdom of Gond rajas got a tax break. This tradition was strong in the Sambalpur region,” he writes. Digging ponds was among the punishments meted out by the caste panchayats of Bundelkhand. Ponds permeate every sinew of life.
    Deep Impact:
    Many found the addictive. Some finished it in one go and keep revisiting it. “People were mesmerised,” says Bhopal-based journalist Shabbir Quadri, who translated the book into Urdu and distributed it for free at madrasas and panchayats.
    Mishra, who passed away in 2016, would build a personal relationship with his readers. “I correspond with about 3,000-odd readers. The idea is to create awareness and build a movement through the book. You cannot do that without forming a long-standing relationship with them,” he told this reporter in 2004.
    One such reader was Surendra Bansal, then a freelance graphic designer in Punjab’s Malerkotla. He learnt about the book from a piece by journalist Prabhas Joshi in the ‘Jansatta’ newspaper. “I read that article four times and wrote to Anupam-Ji,” he says. “I didn’t have the address, so I just wrote, Anupam Mishra, Delhi”. Miraculously, the letter reached its destination. Mishra sent him two of his books with a handwritten note in his signature style.
    Bansal read the book and then translated it into Gurmukhi. He published it by selling off his prized cacti collection for Rs 11,000. “When Anupam-ji came to know about it, he first scolded me. Then he wept,” remembers Bansal, who now works for Haryana govt’s PR department. He has published five editions of the book in Gurmukhi. And he hasn’t stopped. Bansal regularly scans Punjabi magazines and sends free copies of the book to those he believes might be interested in water conservation. “I also distribute it to youth clubs and village libraries,” he says. Bansal has given away 6,200 copies so far.
    The book has also been used to groom community leaders. Aaj Bhi … was introduced as part of the syllabus in Chitrakoot’s Mahatma Gandhi Gramin Vishwavidyalaya. “It was taught to graduate students in 313 centres in a leadership course,” says retired civil servant B Rajagopal Naidu. The book was also part of the Hindi syllabus for graduates in Mumbai University between 2017 and 2019.
    Why It Still Matters
    Rajendra Singh, known as the ‘Waterman of India’, says Aaj Bhi … made a deep impact in MP and Rajasthan. Naidu, whose tenure as DM of Sagar in MP during 2002-04 was marked by a host of water management initiatives, says the book helped mobilise people and build awareness around check dams, and small drinking water ponds.
    He also remembers how the clean-up of Sagar’s sprawling Lakha Banjara lake got stuck due to a funds crunch. Help came in an unusual way. Film lyricist and Congres politician Vithalbhai Patel, who had penned the 1973 hit Bobby’s famous song, ‘Jhooth Bole Kawwa Kate’, went around every morning to the town’s different wards, asking people to donate Re 1 for the talab. The amount raised helped restore a huge portion of the lake.
    Such examples abound. Singh of Tarun Bharat Sangh, which constructed at least 7,500 ponds, says that dozens of initiatives were undertaken in Jodhpur and Barmer districts. “A sarpanch from Bikaner’s Nakhoda village called me after reading the book seeking help to build ponds,” he recalls.
    Chhatar Singh, a master of desert water conservation in Jaisalmer district, restored about 500 ponds, beris, and wells. A beri is a shallow well that harvests rainwater.
    “Reading the book, I felt my forefathers were talking to me. It was written in a way that inspired action,” says Chhatar, who was also impressed by Mishra’s book, ‘Rajasthan Ki Rajat Boondein (The Silver Drops Of Rajasthan)’. He explains Mishra’s approach: “If you had any doubts about building ponds,  Anupam ji would organise a gathering. He knew the answer, but would let the answer emerge from us.”
    Eastern Rajasthan’s Lapodia village is a famous conservation success story. Its head, Laxman Singh, read Aaj bhi… and encouraged fellow villagers to do so too. Impressed by its message of reviving traditional methods, they undertook a textbook application of rainwater harvesting and water management techniques to transform a sun-dried area into a village of three fecund ponds–Dev Sagar, Phool Sagar, and Anna Sagar, with a 300 bigha meadow.
    Laxman Singh says Mishra visited Lapodia twice every year for 30 years. “He was our guide and guru. Pehle woh insaan taiyar karte thhey, phir dharti (First, he readied people, then the land),” Laxman told this reporter in 2016. When the book’s Braille edition came out around 2009, Mishra visited Delhi Blind School, inspiring students to perform shramdan, or voluntary labour, recalls Pande.
    Academic Annie Montaut, who has translated ‘Rajasthan Ki Rajat Boondein’ into French, writes how even prisoners of a French jail could relate to Mishra’s lecture on water conservation. Some recalled their own childhood in Morocco. “I was surprised by the reaction; he wasn’t. Anupam-ji told me that he had learnt a lot from the uneducated,” she wrote in Hindi to Mishra’s wife, Manjushree, for an upcoming book in tribute to her husband.
    It is almost a cliché that a book can change your world. Mishra’s slim volume certainly reaffirms that adage. With global water shortage now an impending reality, the book’s significance has magnified in recent years. Today Aaj Bhi… is to water conservationists what Das Capital is to Marxists. A Ratna of Bharat, Mishra, never received even a Padmashri. But his book continues to usher in a silent revolution, one pond at a time.


Posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:

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THE JOY OF MORNING WALK IN HAZRATGANJ

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    Every morning, I walk up to the IT College metro station from my house, which is about ten minutes, cutting across the sprawling Police Lines. Today was a similar drill. I took the metro from there to Hazratganj Station, which is just three stations away. And today, being a holiday, the metro was absolutely empty. In fact, I was the only chap, I think, who got down at the Hazratganj station. Even as I was returning, I was the only person who boarded from there.

    In Hazratganj, I usually walk for about half an hour every day. But the air was heavy today, even when the roads and the footpath were empty. There was a heavy security deployment near the Khadi Gram showroom where Yogi ji, the Chief Minister of U.P., was to arrive to pay homage to Mahatma Gandhi, today being his birth anniversary. I continued walking till I arrived at my usual joint, The Shukla tea stall, on Church Road, Hazratganj, that serves tea and street food.

    The place is heavily crowded. Today was no different. I normally have a Kulhad chai there, which reminds me of the cutting Chai in Mumbai. While I was having Chai, two police motorcycles, blaring their sirens, landed at the tea stall. They started coaxing the drivers to remove their cars and scooters from there. It appeared as a special security drill on the 2nd of October. I was happy to note that I had landed in Hazratganj by metro and was on foot, so I didn’t have to bother about my car. I felt liberated. As a result, the tea tasted even sweeter, the weather even more pleasant, and the walk even more energising, and the mind relaxed. See what blaring sirens can do to you when you don’t have a car.

Written and posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:

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THE STORY OF AJAMILA … A story from Srimad Bhagvatam by Kamlesh Tripathi

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    Once, in the city of Kanyakubja (present-day Kannauj), there lived a Brahmin named Ajamila. He had studied all the Vedic scriptures from a very young age. He was noble in character and conduct. Well-mannered, free from false pride, he was upright and kind to all living beings.

    One day, when Ajamila was gathering flowers in the forest for his daily puja, he saw a beautiful enchantress. Her beauty captivated him, and immediately he fell under her wicked spell.

    Soon, Ajamila drove out his faithful wife and elderly parents from his home. He married the enchantress and had many children with her. Ajamila, who had once led a chaste life, now spent his days trying to please his immoral wife. He indulged in many sinful activities that he would have never done before.

    Despite being born a Brahmin, Ajamila started killing innocent animals to feed his large family. He began stealing and cheating others, and even encouraged his sons to follow a similar sinful path.

    Among all his children, Ajamila was especially fond of his youngest son. His name was Narayana. The child’s innocent behaviour and playful ways had won over Ajamila’s heart. He spent most of his time with Narayana.

    Years passed, one day, when Ajamila was old and on his deathbed, he saw three Yamadutas, the terrifying servants of Yamaraja, the god of death, coming towards him. They had come to take Ajamila’s soul and punish him for all the sins that he had committed in his life.

    Gripped by intense fear, Ajamila began to weep. In panic, he started calling out the name “Narayana,” which was his beloved son’s name. And, he kept calling ‘Narayana’ on and on, without realising that he was actually chanting the holy name of Lord Narayana.

    The Vishnudutas, who were messengers of Lord Vishnu, heard the holy name of their Lord being chanted by Ajamila on his deathbed, and immediately, they rushed to the scene.

    Just as the Yamadutas were about to pull Ajamila’s soul out of his body, the Vishnudutas arrived there and tried to stop them. But the Yamadutas refused to listen. They insisted that Ajamila should be punished for his sins. The Vishnudutas then explained, “Ajamila has already atoned for his sins. Not only those sins committed in this life, but also for those committed over millions of lifetimes, simply by chanting the holy name of Narayana in his helpless state. The name of the Lord is divine. Even though Ajamila was unaware, each time he called his son by his name Narayana, he was actually chanting the Lord’s name and cleansing himself of his sins. Lord Narayana protects those who chant His Holy Name.”

    The Yamadutas were thus silenced by the profound wisdom of the Vishnudutas. Defeated, they returned to Yamaraja, their master, and recounted all that had happened. Yamaraja concurred with what they had been told. He said, “What you have heard is true. Although I’m your master, Lord Narayana is the Supreme Lord of the entire universe, and we are all His servants.” He added, “Just as a king has ministers to carry out his commands, I and other demigods work under the direction of the Supreme Lord.”

    Yamaraja then explained the rewards of chanting the holy name of Lord Narayana:

    “Even the most sinful person is taken to the Supreme Lord’s abode, and he is freed from all punishment if he chants the holy name of Lord Narayana at the time of his death. Lord Narayana will always protect those who chant His holy name.”

    He then advised his servants never to bring a person who chants the Holy Name or engages in the devotional service to Lord Narayana. Instead, they should bring only those who do not chant or fail to remember the lotus feet of the Supreme Lord.

    Ajamila sincerely bowed to the Vishnudutas when he realised he had been saved from the Yamadutas. He expressed gratitude for rescuing him from going to Naraka. Reflecting on his past sins, Ajamila was filled with remorse for having abandoned his first wife and parents. He now clearly saw the wrongs he had committed.

    Ajamila now understood the immense power in chanting the holy name of Lord Narayana. He deeply regretted wasting his life in sinful acts and resolved that, if given a second chance, he would dedicate himself to the service of the Lord.

    By the mercy of the Lord Narayana, Ajamila was granted a second chance to live. He seized the opportunity and went to Haridwar, where he spent the rest of his life chanting and serving Lord Vishnu, also known as Lord Narayana.

    One day, when Ajamila was meditating, he saw a golden aircraft descending from the sky. Inside it were the same Vishnudutas who had saved him earlier. They had now come to take him to his eternal home, the abode of Lord Narayana.

    Ajamila peacefully left his body on the banks of the sacred Ganga River in Haridwar and joined the Vishnudutas to serve his Supreme Lord forever.

Written and posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

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https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

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Mystery of Agatha Christie’s India Story Finally Solved

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14/9/25 MYSTERY OF AGATHA CHRISTIE’S INDIA STORY FINALLY SOLVED


    — WHY DIDN’T THEY ASK MATHEW? THERE WAS CONSTANT SPECULATION OVER WHETHER AGATHA CHRISTIE EVER CAME TO INDIA, BUT NEVER ANY PROOF, EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS KNOWN TO BE AN AVID TRAVELLER. NOW, HER GRANDSON TELLS WRITER MANJIRI PRABHU THAT SHE DEFINITELY HAD VISITED – NOT ONCE, BUT TWICE–


    Some mysteries need to be actively cracked, but some solve themselves with time.


    There has been constant speculation about Agatha Christie’s India connection. One question has recurred over the years, but has never really been accurately answered: Did Agatha Christie ever visit India? The internet and popular belief will state that she did not. I, too, had often puzzled over how Christie, a world traveller, had never actually been to India. In fact, in a video in 2021, I had even concluded that she hadn’t. Until one cool but sunny Easter day in Wales.
    In March 2024, I met Christie’s grandson, Mathew Prichard, and his lovely wife, Lucy, at their charming home in Wales. Prichard, now in his 80s, had been very close to his grandmother.
    It was a memorable day, but it turned momentous when Mathew showed me Christie’s personal memorabilia — her passports, her first typed and edited manuscripts, rare photos, her camera, and her last portrait painting, which hung on one of the walls of his house.
    When Mathew signed and gifted me a copy of his grandmother’s latest biography, I also realised what a mammoth task he had been entrusted with-to preserve her legacy, and how he had upheld that trust: a proud grandson of the Queen of Crime.
    It was when I mentioned how strange it was that Christie had never visited India that he glanced at me with a twinkle in his blue eyes and said, “Oh, but she did!” I was startled. This was contrary to all that we believed. A few minutes later, as I skimmed through the numerous black-and-white, well-preserved photos, I found some that made my heart race-pictures of Christie with a garland, descending from an Indian Airlines plane. Here, finally, was the missing link to a long-standing puzzle.
    I was on the threshold of solving a real mystery, but I needed to know more. At my request, the archivist Joseph Keogh dug deeper and came up with some fascinating, unpublicised facts. Christie had indeed visited India-not once, but twice. From her passport stamps, he traced her travel itinerary for the two trips.
    Her first trip was in Jan 1960, when she visited Ceylon (present-day Sri Lanka), then India and Pakistan. From Jan 11 to Feb 2, she travelled to Bombay (now Mumbai), headed to South India’s Madras (now Chennai), did some sightseeing at the Ajanta Caves, and then on to Delhi. Between Feb 2 and 9, she went to Nepal and returned to Patna and Delhi, finally leaving for Karachi on Feb 17.
    Some letters were also found that referenced her trips. It appeared that the 1960 trip was for a lecture tour by her second husband, the archaeologist Max Mallowan.
    The following are extracts from two letters that Christie wrote to Edmund Cork in Cyprus, her literary agent and lifelong friend.
    Jan 11, 1960 | Future plans are, roughly, leave for Madras today – go via southern India to Bombay arriving 17th or 18th–Then some sightseeing near Bombay Agenta Caves (sic) etc and on to Delhi and then to Nepal on Jan 31st for a week — c/o British Embassy would find us there as I’m not sure what the hotel is.
    Jan 20, 1960 | Our plans are a bit different at the moment as accommodation at hotels is very hard to get exactly when one wants it but we shall be in and out of the Ashoka Hotel at Delhi between Jan 28th and Feb 2nd– and then Nepal (c/o British Embassy Kathmandu) 2nd to 9th then in and out of Ashoka again finally leaving it on Feb 17th for Karachi. So forward anything you think I ought to see to the Ashoka at Delhi — but nothing that I needn’t!!
    Another letter was from Christie, then staying at the Ashoka Hotel in New Delhi, to  Rosalind, her daughter.
    Feb 16, 1960 | On our arrival here yesterday evening, several archaeologists were waiting with two porters and loads of archaeological material from their … dig. The examination of the same intrigued the Ashoka guests very much.
    Christie’s second trip to India, a year later, seemed to be for leisure. The passport has a Palam, New Delhi stamp (month not specified) in 1961. This time she visited Srinagar in Kashmir and stayed at the Oberoi Palace. This is what she wrote to he daughter Rosalind:
    Oct 30, 1961 | Lake and mountains rather lovely. This is a Hotel rather like at Jaipur — converted Rajah’s Palace — miles and miles of corridors — enormous rooms and we are in a kind of supersuite looking over lake. It’s all terribly dried up by this time of year — one ought really to come in May-June. Now one must be content by rich beds of red salvia and dahlias in the Hotel garden. Temp is about 50 at night. Delicious hot sun to sit in and about 60 in a day. Suits me very well. We made some excursions — to the various Mogul gardens — and to a lake … Which is very beautiful and ringed with snowclad mountains. You can see the mountains now after the rain. We have to leave here and go to the Hotel in the town– but expect that our booking for Nov 2nd to Delhi will be all right.
    From Delhi, she wrote again to Rosalind.
    Here we are in the Ashoka. I’m glad we had a good ten days and in a perfect Hotel for old ladies (very few of them nowadays) where I could sit, in the sun — and look at a view like a Japanese print. Lovely!
    The letters revealed Christie’s bright, chirpy personality and tongue-in-cheek humour, her eagerness to explore India and her appreciation of scenic beauty. She seemed happy to be in India.
    But I pondered why her trips were not well-known. Was it because photographs were a rarity then or because she checked into the hotels in her husband’s name — or perhaps simply because Agatha Christie was a private person?
    Whatever the reason, I was thrilled with my discovery. That sunny day with Mathew, Lucy and Gwynnie, the dog carried an extra fulfilling zing because of this exciting revelation.
    I had always sensed a deep connection to Agatha Christie. But being the chosen one to unravel the mystery of her India trips felt truly special.
PICTURES IN THE ARTICLE

  1. Agatha Christie descended from an Indian Airlines plane during one or two visits to India.
  2. Agatha Christie autographs copies of her books.
  3. Mathew Prichard (also in the photo right), who has settled the India question once and for all, with his grandmother Agatha Christie.
  4. Pages from  Christie’s passport, showing (top) arrival at Palam, and (above) a Patna Police stamp that says ‘To Kathmandu’

    TOMORROW IS THE 135TH BIRTH ANNIVERSARY OF ‘QUEEN OF CRIME’
    BORN | SEPTEMBER 15, 1890
    DIED | JANUARY 12, 1976
   – SHE WROTE THE WORLD’S LONGEST-RUNNING PLAY. THE MOUSETRAP, PERFORMED CONTINUOUSLY IN LONDON’S WEST END SINCE 1952, EXCEPT FOR A BREAK DURING COVID (2020-2021)
    – MARRIED TWICE, DIVORCED HER FIRST HUSBAND, ARCHIBALD CHRISTIE, IN 1928, AND MARRIED ARCHAEOLOGIST MAX MALLOWAN IN 1930
    – FOLLOWING THE BREAKDOWN OF HER FIRST MARRIAGE IN 1926, SHE MADE HEADLINES BY GOING MISSING FOR 11 DAYS. SHE WAS LOCATED AT A HOTEL 296 KM FROM HER HOME, REGISTERED AS MRS TRESSA NEELE, HER HUSBAND’S LOVER’S SURNAME.
    BOOKS: 66 DETECTIVE NOVELS, 14 SHORT STORIES
    FAMOUS CHARACTERS: HERCULE POIROT, MISS MARPLE
    The author is an award-winning writer of mystery novels
    [Extracts and photographs used with permission from Mathew Prichard and the Christie Archive Trust. Special thanks to Lucy Prichard and Joseph Keogh of the Christie Archive Trust]

Posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:

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Book Review: The Roads of Destiny … by O Henry

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    O. Henry’s The Roads of Destiny may not be a structured poem, but it carries a poetic spirit by way of exploration of fate, choice, and the unpredictable nature of life. The story is about a man named David who stands at a crossroad, literally and figuratively, and each road represents a different future. Through this branching narrative, O. Henry entreats readers to ponder how small choices can lead to vastly different outcomes, and how fate can shape our lives in ways we don’t expect. Although written in prose, the theme and emotions in the story are rich with poetic meaning.

    The story’s central theme is how fragile and powerful our choices could be. O. Henry conveys that even decisions that seem minor can send our lives into different directions. Life is full of small, quiet moments that later turn out to be incredibly important. A step to the left or the right might not seem significant in the moment, but later it could be the reason why everything changed. Every decision holds a potential. Life is made up of many such turning points, often unrecognized until we look back.

    Closely tied to personal choice is the grip of fate. In each stage of David’s life, no matter which road he takes, he ends up facing difficult or tragic outcomes. This suggests that fate has a stronger grip on our lives than we would like to believe. The author doesn’t present fate as something harsh or cruel, but rather as mysterious and unpredictable. We walk ahead thinking we know where we’re going. But the road can suddenly curve into a completely unexpected direction. This uncertainty gives life its beauty and its difficulty. The poetic lesson here is that though we may have no control where the road leads to, we still have to walk it.

    Life’s unpredictability is another theme that gives the story its emotional weight. David’s various life unfolds in unexpected ways, proving that no plan is ever guaranteed. Even when we try to do the right thing or follow a certain path, we can’t guarantee how things will turn out. O. Henry’s storytelling reminds us that surprises, both joyful and tragic, are always around the corner and they will get you. This paradigm of unpredictability is common in poetry, where meaning often emerges in layers and can shift with time or mood. Just like an intricate poem, life unfolds with twists and surprises that challenge our understanding.

    Time also plays a pivotal role in the story. It moves forward no matter which path David takes, and it never pauses or gives him a second chance. The passing of time gives weight to our choices because we rarely get an opportunity to revisit them. This is another idea that feels deeply poetic: time is always moving, and once a moment passes, it becomes a memory. The story implores readers to be mindful of the time they have and the decisions they make within it. It also encourages reflection. Looking back at the roads we’ve taken and wondering how things might have been different.

    Regret and reflection are intertwined themes that show up throughout David’s story. Each life he lives seems to carry a shadow of what might have been if he had chosen to live differently. This idea is emotionally powerful because almost everyone, at some point, has wondered “what if?” Regret isn’t always a loud or dramatic feeling. It can be quiet, something that lingers as we look back into the past. O. Henry captures this subtle emotion in a way that feels similar to poetry, where a single line can express a lifetime of feeling.

    The author uses irony in a poetic way. In each of David’s paths, he faces hardships despite choosing different directions. This irony teaches us that even when we try to avoid danger or seek happiness, we can’t always escape what life has in store for us. The roads of destiny seem to curve back towards difficulty no matter which road he chooses. This twist reflects O. Henry’s trademark storytelling style. In poetry, irony often reveals the hidden truths and helps readers think more deeply about life’s contradictions.

    Perspective is another layer that deepens the story’s meaning. Often, we only understand the importance of a choice or event after the time has passed. What appears small at the moment may turn out to be life-changing. Just as a poem seems confusing at first and later makes perfect sense, our understanding of our own lives also changes with the perspective. This reminds us to look at our lives with curiosity and patience. The meaning of life sometimes reveals itself slowly.

     All these ideas connect to the phrase “difficult poems make easy mutton.” Though it’s a playful and unusual expression, it captures an important truth: sometimes, the things that are hardest to understand at first—like complex poems or life’s confusing events—can later become clear and deeply meaningful. Just as tough meat becomes tender after careful preparation, a difficult story or experience can eventually offer comfort, insight, or wisdom. The Roads of Destiny is that kind of story. At first glance, it seems simple, but the more you think about it, the more it says about life, choice, and the strange, beautiful mystery of where we end up.

Written and posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

Author, Poet, & Columnist

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https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:

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15/9/25 THEYDUNNIT … Editorial on Agatha Christie

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… Why can’t we? TOI’s Christie-in-India story is a reminder of how we do a disservice to India’s vernacular crime fiction

Posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

Author, Poet, & Columnist

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

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Legends surrounding the Parijaat Tree by Kamlesh Tripathi

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     Just as it is believed that Gods and Asuras (demons) claimed ‘Amrit’ by churning the ocean, in the great mythological event of Samundra Manthan, which happens to be the genesis of the world-famous ‘Kumbh Mela’, now considered the biggest spiritual congregation on earth. It is also believed that either Lord Krishna or Arjuna brought the Parijaat Tree from heaven.

    Parijaat is considered a sacred Baobab tree. Modern science traces its origin to Sub-Saharan Africa. The tree may have been planted in India by someone who travelled between India and Africa. By the order of the local district magistrate, any form of damage to the tree is strictly prohibited. The tree stands in the village of Kintoor, in the district of Barabanki, in Uttar Pradesh. In botanical terms, Parijaat is known as Adansonia Digitata. The Government website places it in a special category because it does not bear either fruits or seeds, and neither can its branch-cuttings be planted to reproduce a second Parijaat tree. It is also known as “the tree from paradise”. Its age is difficult to determine. Botanists describe it as a unisex tree. It is unique and has not been found anywhere else. The leaves at the lower part of the tree have five tips like the fingers of a hand, while those at the upper part have seven tips.

     Parijaat bears beautiful flowers with snow-white petals, five in number, with a red stalk. After drying up, the flowers take on a golden hue. They bloom only at night and shed before sunrise. They also possess medicinal value. The tree blossoms occasionally, with very few flowers, but after ‘Ganga Dussehra’, a Hindu festival that commemorates the day the holy Goddess Ganga descended from heaven to Earth to purify the souls of King Bhagiratha’s ancestors. Its fragrance spreads far and wide. The tree’s age is estimated between 1000 and 5000 years, with a trunk perimeter of around 50 feet, and a height of around 45 feet.

    Village Kintoor is named after Kunti, the mother of the Pandavas. It is about 38 km east of the district headquarters, Barbanki. Several ancient temples and ruins are also found in the area. Near the temple established by Kunti in the village of Kintoor stands the Parijaat Tree, which, according to a legend, grew out of Kunti’s ashes.

    Many other legends about this tree find popular acceptance. One being, Arjuna, brought it from heaven, and Kunti offered its flowers to Lord Shiva.

    There is also a sad myth according to which Princess Parijataka was in love with the Sun God, but her love was never reciprocated. Heartbroken, she committed suicide and from her ashes rose the Parijaat Tree. Unable to bear the sight of her love during the day, she blooms only at night and sheds her flowers as tears, before sunrise.

    Another story is that Lord Krishna brought this tree for his queen, Satyabhama or Rukmini. According to Harivansh Puraan, the Parijaat Tree is a Kalpavriksha or wish-fulfilling divine tree, otherwise found only in heaven. Newlyweds visit the tree for blessings, and every Tuesday, a fair is held where local people worship the tree.

    Some myths suggest that the tree sheds its tears at the touch of the first rays of the sun. Its flowers spread their fragrance in the entire area during the day. According to another myth, the Parijaat tree was planted in Indralok, which was one of the gifts received from the Samudra Manthan. It was thus a celestial plant, not available on earth. To sow seeds of discord, sage Narada brought some flowers from Indralok and gave them to Lord Krishna. He then waited to see to which of his wives Krishna would present them. Finally, Krishna gave the flowers to Rukmini. On seeing this, Narada went to Satyabhama, Krishna’s other wife and told her about it.

   On hearing this, Satyabhama felt very jealous. Narada then gave her a solution. He suggested that she should insist on Krishna getting the plant itself from Indralok and plant it at her home, instead of a few flowers. Satyabhama decided to do that, and when Krishna came to her quarters, she expressed her anger and disappointment over the entire incident and insisted that he retrieve the whole plant from Indralok.

    In the meantime, Narada went and warned Indra that some earthlings were out to steal the celestial plant from his Indralok. Meanwhile, when Krishna and Satyabhama were about to leave Indralok, after obtaining the celestial Parijaat tree, they were accosted by Indra. Soon, a battle broke out between them in which Indra lost.

    But Indra would not let it go so easily. He cursed that the plant would never bear fruit again, though it might bear flowers, and since then, the Parijaat tree does not bear any fruit.

    Having brought the tree to Dwarka, Rukmini also took a fancy to the tree because of its flowers. Krishna planted the tree in such a manner that, though the tree was planted in Satyabhama’s house, when it bore flowers, they would fall in Rukmini’s home. Satyabhama had asked for the tree, and she got it. Rukmini wanted the flowers, and she too got it.

    It is believed that the Parijaat Tree in village Kintoor, in district Barabanki, in Uttar Pradesh, dates back to the Mahabharat era. It is mentioned in the Mahabharat that Sri Krishna uprooted the Parijaat Tree from the kingdom of Indira, the King of the Devas.

    Another legend in the Puranas suggests that Arjuna of the Mahabharata brought the Parijaat Tree for his mother Kunti, who offered it to Shiva.

Written and posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

Author, Poet, & Columnist

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https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

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THE MAGIC ART OF CHAMCHAGIRI … Kamlesh Tripathi

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    In India, some things need no translation. Chamchagiri or sycophancy is one of them. Even the “Queen’s English” crowd knows what it means. Nothing meaty lands on your plate without practising this mother of all arts. Chanakya in Arthashastra advises kings how to handle courtiers and spies — and implicitly recognises the “art” of flattery in royal courts. Samuel Johnson in the Rambler magazine wrote scathingly about sycophants. Once a secret ritual whispered in corridors, it is now prime-time entertainment, performed daily in the hallways of power, on TV debates, in offices, and even at kitty parties. As Shakespeare warned in King Lear: “That way madness lies,” but here, madness is a career ladder.

    We spend our youth mugging up equations and case laws to become engineers, doctors, lawyers, bureaucrats, chartered accountants, you name it. But for this art? No IIT, no IIM, no UPSC. Entry is free, the returns are tax-free, and the syllabus is refreshingly short. Yet, it remains the single most powerful skill for climbing ladders without moving a muscle. As Hamlet said, “Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t.”

    It’s a two-way affair. If you’re a VIP, you must have chamchas around you. No entourage, no aura. Without chamchas, your VIP status is like a king without a crown or a biryani without the meat. Conversely, to survive and “grow” in this competitive jungle, you need to do chamchagiri. It’s like a booster rocket that propels you ahead while others sweat on the launch pad. Noted author Ramachandra Guha has written a book titled “Á Short History of Congress Chamchagiri.”

    Make no mistake … Chamchagiri didn’t start with TV anchors or corporate off-sites. It’s been around since the first darbar had its first court jester. Kings, queens, emperors, colonial sahibs—everybody had their own chamcha squad. In earlier times, it was treated like begging with better clothes. Today, it’s been upgraded to an art installation that pays handsome lifetime dividends, provided you know how to mix flattery with timing. “The better part of valour is discretion” says Shakespeare in Henry IV, and discretion is precisely what separates the amateur flatterer from the professional chamcha.

    The masters of this craft are everywhere. Buzzing in bureaucratic circles, swarming corporate corridors, hovering in political arenas, occasionally even tiptoeing into the judiciary. Some take it to operatic heights. Remember Dev Kant Barua’s immortal “Indira is India and India is Indira”? That was a standing ovation moment in the Chamchagiri Oscars. Others prefer silent gestures: a Chief Minister bending down to slip chappals back on the Prime Minister’s son in a muddy field; a police officer touching a senior neta’s feet in full uniform; security staff polishing the sandal of a lady Chief Minister; or the advanced-level prostrations before Tamil Nadu’s “Amma.” Truly, “all the world’s a stage” (Bard’s … As You Like It), and these are its players.

    And the recent “Vidhayak ka Pratinidhi” number plate? That was pure performance art: “If I can’t be an MLA, let me at least be his shadow.” Some learn this telling art just to earn a living, not to catapult their careers, which is still a humble, almost a mild form of chamchagiri.

    I’ve often wondered about the origins of this delightful disease. To me, it feels like a colonial-feudal survival tactic that, instead of fading, has aged like fine wine. In an ideal world, the HRD Ministry should at least launch a “Certificate Course in Chamchagiri” to reduce unemployment. Imagine the convocation, mortarboard on your head, silver spoon in your hand, and a degree that reads “Master of Arts (Flattery).” Two square meals guaranteed, three if you prostrate with conviction. Or as the Bard wrote in Hamlet, “Give me that man that is not passion’s slave and I will wear him in my heart’s core.” Chamchagiri bhi ek kala hai, fark bas itna hai ki isme rang nahi chaploosi chadti hai.

Written and posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

Author, Poet, & Columnist

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

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Bhibhuti Babu The Writer of Pather Panchali

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TIMES OF INDIA: 15/6/25
WHY A SMALL JHARKHAND TOWN STILL ADORES THE WRITER OF PATHER PANCHALI


    Flanked by a restless Subarnarekha river and an unassuming railway line that runs through the small town, Ghatsila reminds you of idyllic Nischindipur, where Satyajit Ray’s iconic Pather Panchali (Song of the Road) unfolds. It’s a drowsy, almost diffident, place that seems to have been bypassed by time.
    Maybe the resemblance is not entirely coincidental. This is where celebrated writer Bibhuti Bhusan Bandyopadhyay, who penned the unforgettable Bengali novel, spent many creative years of his life and breathed his last at the age of 56 in 1950.
    The finest works of Bibhuti Babu, as every one refers to him in Ghatsila, include ‘Aparajito (Undefeated)’, ‘Aranyak (Of The Forest)’, and ‘Chander Pahar (Mountain Of The Moon)’. Director Shakti Samanta’s ‘Amar Prem’ (1972), a melancholic story of unrealised love, starring Rajesh Khanna and Sharmila Tagore, was based on a Bandyopadhyay short story, Hinger Kochuri.
    It has been 75 years since he passed away. But Bibhuti Babu remains Ghatsila’s calling card. Hotels are named after him. So are sightseeing spots, libraries and grammar schools. He is present even on restaurant menus. In fact, the writer is everywhere.
    Ghatsila is nestled in the lap of the Dalma hills in Jharkhand’s East. Singhbhum district shares a border with West Bengal’s Jhargram and Purulia districts to the east and north, and Odisha’s Mayurbhanj to the south.
    At the spot where NH 33 turns towards Ghatsila, the Jharkhand tourism department has built a hotel called Bibhuti Vihar. The town also has a Bibhuti Inn, owned by a businessman. A popular hotel on the banks of the Subarnarekha is named after a spot where the writer used to sit on moonlit nights, and that he had named ‘Ratmohana’ (charmer of the night).
    The house where Bibhuti Babu lived is located in Dahigora, now the poshest part of the town. The residence is called Gourikunj, after his first wife, who died during childbirth. The road leading to Gourikunj is called Apur Path– the road of Apu, the protagonist of the semi-autobiographical Pather Panchali.
    There’s more. A local society for the preservation of Bandyopadhyay’s house and his legacy is called Gourikunj Unnayan Samiti. Says its president, Tapas Chatterjee, “Nobody commands more respect than Bibhuti Babu in Ghatsila.”
    “Not an inch of his house was encroached upon, even though nobody lived there for 57 years. In 1950, when Bibhuti Babu died, his second wife, Rama Chattopadhyay, and son Taradas Bandyopadhyay, who was three then, left the town. Taradas ji gave us the NOC to construct this memorial in 2007, three years before his death. In between, the house lay in utter neglect and ruins.” Chatterjee said.
    The Samiti also runs a Bengali language grammar school on Sundays, called Apur Pathshala, and a library called Bibhuti Smriti Sansthagar in Ghatshila.
    A cultural festival is hosted every year on September 12 to mark the writer’s birth anniversary.
    The story of how Bibhuti Babu came to live in Ghatsila is fascinating.
    According to Chatterjee, a contractor from Ghatsila called Ashok Gupta had taken a loan from the writer when the latter was working as a teacher in Calcutta. Unable to pay him back in cash, Gupta decided to register the house in Ghatsila in Bibhuti babu’s name.
    “Bibhuti Babu wanted his younger brother, Nutbihari Bandyopadhyay, who was a doctor, to settle in this town and had visited Ghatsila in 1938. He fell in love with this house and the town and never returned.” Chatterjee said.
    Since he was already an established name in Bengali literature, many other Calcutta writers, including Sahitya Akademi Awardee Gajendra Kumar Mitra (1908-1994), Pramatha Nath Bishi (1901-1985) and Subodh Ghosh (1909-1980), also built homes in Ghatsila. Bimal Roy’s ‘Sujata’ (1960) and Gulzar’s ‘Ijaazat’ (1989) were based on stories written by Ghosh.
    However, all left in due course. Except Bibhuti babu, who stayed on and wrote some of his most famous works in this town.
    As a writer, Bibhuti Babu shared a special bond with the quiet jungles on the town’s edge, the free-flowing river and forest dwellers. He had witnessed the exploitation of natural resources in the name of development when he went to Bhagalpur in Bihar as the assistant manager of a forest estate in January 1924. That assignment left a lasting impression on the writer and funds mentioned in works such as ‘Aranyak’ and the essay, ‘Hey Aranya Katha kao (Oh Forest, Speak)’.
    Ghatsila is full of such natural spots, like Burudi dam, Phuldungri Pahar and the banks of the Subarnarekha, where Bibhuti Babu would sit with a pen and notebook for hours.
    Situated 54 km from Jamshedpur and 240 km away from Kolkata, Ghatsila is a favourite of tourists from Bengal. Nearly 80% of the population here, including tribals, now speak the Bengali language. The locals, however, rue how some things are no longer the same. “Earlier, tourists came for longer durations, a month or, at times even longer. They would rent out homes and stay like locals. Since they came here for a change of air, we called them ‘changers’,” said Rohit Kumar, manager of a private lodge in Ghatsila’s Phuldungri.
    The new-age tourists come for a day or two. The neighbouring hill town of Belpahari in Jhargram district of West Bengal offers better amenities and takes away a major chunk of tourists.
    But appreciation of the legacy of Bibhuti Babu isn’t confined to visitors anymore. Supriti Murmu, wife of prominent Jharkhand state agitation leader Bablu Murmu, says, “I was drawn to this town because of Bibhuti Babu. As a student of Bangla literature, we were influenced by his writings and wanted to experience the rural life he portrayed in his books.
    Supriti Murmu used to be a prominent left-wing student leader and was pursuing her graduation in Bangla literature in neighbouring Jhargram when her activism and her love for the writer brought her to Ghatsila in 1987. “I have been here since then,” she said.
Bandyopadhyay’s works and his love for the forest dwellers resonate with the local tribal population as much as his books appeal to the Bengali intelligentsia.
At Gourikunj, his real legacy is the bond shared by everyone. An artist from Bengal recently painted scenes from Bandyopadhyay’s daily life in Ghatsila on the boundary walls of the house. On his birthday anniversary, girls from tribal communities decorated Apur Path, the lane leading to the house, with beautiful Santhal patterns in the form of rangolis. Everyone and everything is coming together to celebrate their one and only Bibhuti Babu.

Posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

Author, Poet, & Columnist

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

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Dramatic Ends, Enduring Bonds: A Tale of Three Love Stories published in City Essence magazine

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Don’t miss my article that discusses and compares three love stories written by William Shakespeare and O Henri. Happy reading.

Written and posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

Author, Poet, & Columnist

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

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