Category Archives: causerie

THE IRONY OF TASH, MOUSTACHE OR MOOCH

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    Recently a friend of mine ventured into buying a rickety second hand car that was more than 18 feet long, but more than half a decade old. I asked, ‘why this car? Instead, you could have bought a brand new hatchback in the same budget?’ He replied ‘My dear friend you will not understand this, yeh mooch wali gadi hai.’ He, like me, had no mooch but knew all about the varied nuances of a mooch. Another friend of mine since college days, sported a handlebar wider than his face. Just, because he wanted to look like an ostentatious macho, to all those known to him, and like an army specimen, to all the unknown. But sadly, girls rated his fertile front as hideous because of his mooch. From a distance, he was easily recognizable, as one could clearly see only a bushy moustache, walking up without a face–so virile was his tash.

    Then, I also knew of salesman resembling the famous dacoit Veerapan with his deadly moustaches sprouting all over his face. But this was much before Veerapan actually surfaced. The lady customers refused, to be attended by him even when he was very God fearing. Perhaps, he couldn’t change the scary image of such a well mustachioed face

        Mel Brooks, American actor, producer and director justifies it well on the silver screen for the select few and goes on to say, ‘A cinema villain essentially needs a moustache, so he can twiddle with it gleefully, as he cooks up his next plan.’ But it still doesn’t make me believe if Moochs, have a direct link with a man’s manhood.

    Media reports insinuate, Indo-China confrontation is almost over. But then the handlebar-mooch remains, like its sardonic thorn, that is upping the ante. And unless one side droops, the likelihood of a war is very much there. So, not only men, even, countries wear moustaches. But then India happens to be a she country, then how can she have a moustache. And what about China? Well they prefer calling it ‘ancestral land’ … gender neutral to reap the benefit of both the sexes. So then, I don’t think there should be a problem for either of them, to pull out … as ladies needn’t even have a mooch ki ladai. Buy yes, both can behind the scenes give, ‘moochon mein tav’ in front of their countrymen.

    Moustache, no doubt is the royal asset of a man, which is more loyal than his hair. That triggers and circulates his wild airs. And, while, one can see its pontification right below the eyes. He  should not make it the focal point of his false prestige. 

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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. Should you wish to donate for the cause 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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Our publications

GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(CAN BE BOUGHT FROM ON LINE BOOK STORES OR WRITE TO US FOR COPIES)

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U.P. THE LAND OF SUPERNORMAL ROLE MODELS

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    In the complex understructure of India, UP sits like her invisible heart and spiritual voice. One can also address her as a headstrong folklore and tradition champion. Indeed the most populated state that celebrates its lineage in its diversity. It has an irrefutable matrix of society that hails, from two major communities, the Hindus and the Muslims—both passionate lovers of their native.

    Even though, the expanse of Hinduism resonates much beyond India and goes right up to the global frontiers. UP has always been its formidable pillar in the ever lengthening axis. Rather, it has been the primordial hub of religiosity since time immemorial. If we deconstruct her, she expands to a vast region much before it was converted into administrative hedges like states and districts. Which, Gods loved and nature adored. So, one can say she has been the showcase, the playground and even the reliable archives of Hinduism since grand old times.

    She doesn’t require administrate boundaries to conjoin. As, she, connects, consolidates and even identifies herself in many other ways. To begin with she is the mix of Pancha Bhoota—where the elements of Prithvi (Earth), Jal (Water), Agni (fire), Vayu (air) and Akash (ether or the sky) combine for her cosmic creation.

    If we translate this into ground realities we find. Starting from the texture of the soil, to the pitch of the lingo it is one. It has no less than Gods and super humans, as its role models. To say, some of its role models are even better known than the land they belong to won’t be a misnomer. And they all performed their incredible leelas in this very soil. We will come to that a little later.

    UP has that enduring fix of festivals, along with bucolic handholding and even similarity in cereal crops to live and breathe in congruence. There is no life without water they say and water forms the lifeline of any society. To that effect there are vaguely a series of some six or seven imposing rivers, leaving aside many small ones that almost run parallel but certainly from the western side of the state to the eastern corner. And finally,   they all merge as tributaries with Ma Ganga. The main stem of Ganga, begins with the confluence of Bhagirathi and Alaknanda rivers in the town of Devprayag in Uttara Khand. As per mythology she was brought to earth by king Bhagiratha, where, eventually she grew up to the status of Ma Janani in the vast expanse of the state. She is indeed the queen mother of all the water bodies as she carries along with her almost all the rivers. Therefore, for certain she can be called the icon of motherhood the provider—an unbeatable role model again. So blessed is the state that there is hardly a district or a town that is not within the easy catch of a river. Where, inhabitants even identify themselves with the rivers, such as ‘Sarjupari’—person living across river Sarju. There are many annual melas that connect the rural fraternity and its vendors across the sub-regions like Ballia and Nauchandi, to name a few.

    Hinduism has four ashrams when it comes to completing a lifetime—Brahamcharya, (Balkal … Birth to student like), Grihasta (householder), Vanaprastha (retired) and Sannyasa (renunciation). The holy land of UP connects you to some quintessential examples of how some incarnations or avatars of Maha Vishnu have spent their time in these defined ashrams. Hinduism doesn’t come through, without UP. And all lessons of life are available here.

    It teaches us, nothing is easy and everything needs to be fought for, whether you’re an incarnation of God or just a human form. Even, when, Lord Krishna was the 8th incarnation of Maha Vishnu. Mathura was under turmoil at least the night little Krishna was born in Dwaparyuga (the 3rd Yuga). He demonstrated the victory of good over evil when he killed his maternal uncle Kans. And by lifting the Goverdhan Parvat he proclaimed nothing is impossible if you are hell bent upon doing it. On bhakti (devotion) no one can beat Radha as a role model and it all happened in the Braj Bhoomi that is now divided into many districts. But Krishna leela has no boundaries.

    In the same land Bhagwan Sri Ram was born in Ayodhya as the 7th incarnation of Maha Vishnu in Treta Yuga (2nd yuga). Although, he was born before Krishna I’m describing him after Krishna because he had a steady childhood, whereas, Krishna had a fighting one. But Sri Ram exemplified himself as Maryada Purshottam—the quintessential example of respecting contemporary times and fairness accentuating into super goodness. He had many mid life crises which he fought through valiantly all by himself and his devoted team. Prime was 14 years of Banvas (exile into forest) and the abduction of his wife by Ravana. Where, on the one hand he did show grief but on the other hand as a true karmyogi he found his bearings and organized himself to fight the great battle of Lanka to get his wife back. But while doing so he ensured he didn’t overstep the laid down tenets of science and its concomitants, even, when, he was an avatar of Lord Vishnu. Today, Sri Ram is a household name and a role model that is not confined to any district or a religion and where his queen Sita is an epitome of devotion. His entire leela happened along the plains of river Saryu and the famous kingdom of Ayodhya where he ruled. Important to say—role models can be followed by any person from any religion or sect.

    Further, the great war of Mahabharat too, had its roots in Hastinapur near Meerut, again in UP. A well known mythological story of intensely disagreeing, blood thirsty royal cousins, that eventually escalated into a holy war. It is said, what is not seen and read in Mahabharat doesn’t exist in the world. It has again given many role models to the world while it was fought in Dwaparyug. It had many stalwarts. Some important names that one can immediately reflect upon are Krishna, Yudhistir, Bhishma Pitamah, Dronacharya, Kripacharya, Kunti, Karan, Yudhistir, Bhimsen, Arjun, Nakul, Sahdev, Draupadi, Veer Abhimanyu to name a few.

    Krishna derives his umbilical and founding legacy from Braj Bhoomi. From where he goes on to recite those ultimate verses of Gita, that is destined to happen, only once-in-a-planet-time, to a tranced Arjun, challenging him to pick up arms and fight for righteousness. The heft of Krishna thus becomes so very onerous for any one human form to carry as a role model. Resultantly, he spends his life in the little fragments of his teachings to promote his cause.

    Post the battles of Lanka and Mahabharat you had those iconic—blazing writers and poets like Valmiki, Tulsidas and Ved Vyas capturing the vivid description of the proceedings that led to the deadly wars. Together with awesome description of the scenes of war that remain unparalleled even today.

    And going forward when it comes to Vanaprastha and Sanyas we have Varanasi to teach us how to approach retirement and death as a role model. People come to Varanasi to see live Hinduism and even to die. The pyre is ever lit in Manikarnika Ghat and they say if a person is cremated there he or she goes to heaven directly.

    It is one of the oldest ghats of Varanasi. It is revered in Hindu mythology that when Mata Sati, Lord Shiva’s wife sacrificed her life and set her body ablaze after Raja Daksh Prajapati, her father and one of the sons of Lord Brahma tried to humiliate her husband Shiva in the Yagya. Lord Shiva took her burning body to Himalaya. On seeing the unending sorrow of Lord Shiva, Vishnu sent his divine Sudershan Chakra to cut the body into 51 parts which fell on earth. Lord Shiva established Shakti Peeth wherever Sati’s body had fallen. At Manikarnika ghat Mata Sati’s ornament had fallen. The lesson therefore is loaded with the despicable arrogance of king Daksh and the pristine relationship of Sati and Shiva—that can’t be emulated as a role model.

    In the treasured mythological scriptures such as Purans and Upanishads, battles between the Devatas (Gods) and Asuras (Demons) have often been described in great detail and on many occasions. Asuras, have always troubled Devatas for some reason or the other. In fact, they were mostly stronger than the Devatas in strength, and therefore Devatas were always scared of them. Even Devraj Indra who was extremely powerful and laced with a lot of divine offence could not harm them in any manner.  Many such wars were even fought, in an around, the present day UP.   Samudra Mathan (Churning of ocean) resulting into Kumbh, has also seen the bitter war between the Devatas and the Asuras for Amrit (Divine Nectar). Where, Lord Vishnu had to intervene. Because, had Asuras drank Amrit they would have become immortal, and that would have meant destruction of the goodness in the world.

    There are innumerable stories and one can go on and on. But the moot point is, whether, the present day generation of the state is living up to the values created by these role models.

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By Kamlesh Tripathi

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                                                      https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

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Share if you like it

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause 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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Our publications

GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(CAN BE BOUGHT FROM ON LINE BOOK STORES OR WRITE TO US FOR COPIES)

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FASCINATING MONSOON

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      An overcast day, makes a lazy weekend that gives an ethereal feel, when you wake up to the light morning drizzle, tip-tap tip-tap. You realise you don’t have to go for work today. But you certainly can take your raincoat and step out, to witness the groovy nature in its mystifying colours, all splashed and splattered for you, so go there and enjoy. Where, the mind feels light, body feels like flying and the senses divine. The combination is indeed rare. Otherwise, there is always so much to do and so much to brood in your routine life.

    I don’t expect to see the holy sun today. Like me he too is on leave. I guess they have a tie-up—the sun and the clouds. When the clouds appear, the sun goes on leave and doesn’t return till clouds leave. Sun might be strong, but today he looks weak, even when he is above the clouds. That reminds me of man. Who too like clouds, tries to block ways of God but is often weather beaten by time … waqt.

    I step out quietly without a sound. Tina is fast asleep. No lunch to be packed, no hurried breakfast to be tabled. Little Khitkhit for a change, is in her own fantasy, and in a hug with her mother. On the verandah one can see a few uncomfortable pigeons, chirping mynas and even a few jumping sparrows, all trying to shrug the rain water off their feathers. The street lights are still lit because of the overcast. They normally fade with sunlight. The first few drops are rejuvenating. It feels like an unusual dawn that’ll refresh you for the entire year. One can’t but miss the few mongrels hiding under the parapet whimpering … as if the agony wasn’t enough that you’ve sent rains.

    The exterior is all wet as one tip toes to find that confident rhythm along the roadside that has become one big puddle. There are no children around. They all are in the cozy lap of the weekend, oblivious of the once in a while, fun zone outside. The surroundings are still, even when the drizzle has now become a downpour. I’m intact beneath my raincoat. Except for the milkman and the newspaper wala no one else is seen around, barring a few devoted morning walkers. Even the society guards are catching up on their forty winks.

    Suddenly one gets to see the lightning followed by the sound of thunder. The nature is freaking out. I go past the wide streets with tall buildings all around that is now beginning to wake up to a wet dawn. The winding brooks that have sprung up all over have only become more loud and tuneful.

    And as I walk along, I can’t help but think. Why is man the biggest adversary of nature when nature has provided so much for mankind?

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By Kamlesh Tripathi

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                                                      https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

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Share if you like it

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause 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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Our publications

GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(CAN BE BOUGHT FROM ON LINE BOOK STORES OR WRITE TO US FOR COPIES)

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The bliss of sipping warm water

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    Follow this. It is very effective: Every morning have at least 4 glasses of warm water, while sitting. I repeat while sitting. This will prevent a lot of malfunctions in your body. To begin with. It’ll melt and drain the oil and fat that gets stuck in your system, act as a laxative, will help in digestion and even control some minor infections. Frequency of sore throat, if any will reduce. So, it is very good for smokers too and patients who use asthama inhalers. And, as and when you get an advance feel of a sore throat or you feel feverish start drinking warm water in advance for a couple of days. It will arrest the problem and you might not have to go to a doctor. It is also very soothing when you have to sit in air-conditioned rooms for long duration. I had read about it somewhere and had even seen a video, it is superb. No doctor will tell you about this in a coherent manner.

    Second, If you wear spectacles, ensure you wash them on a daily basis, especially the lens. You will get to see the difference before and after washing. We normally think our specs are quite clean after just wiping it with cloth. But washing is a step or two ahead of that and will help in maintaining your eye sight.

    Just thought of sharing with friends.

Posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

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                                                        https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

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Share if you like it

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause the bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

*

Our publications

GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(CAN BE BOUGHT FROM ON LINE BOOK STORES OR WRITE TO US FOR COPIES)

*****

 

 

THE ALLURING WORLD OF EARLY MORNING

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    Each morning as I go and sit along the free flowing river under the old Banyan tree I get this tranquil feel of how little it takes for a man to smile. But the situation reverses when I reach my workplace, where, even a smirk is a task.

    The water is cold, just as cold as the human beings of today even when the globe is warming up. One can now see the redness in the sky announcing the arrival of the sun that is duty bound to give me light and energy. He is my old friend who comes to meet me daily in the morning, barring those cloudy days. A Few patches of dark clouds, semaphore from the sky about the arriving rain, realizing water on earth is only getting scarce. The birds around, up-tempo their melodious chorus, before the blasting car horns, beat their retreat.

    The river has a long journey to undertake. It has to meet the sea. Post which it’ll lose its identity. Yet it is calm barring the routine splashes that hit the shores. The embankment is still and unmoved with some stray dogs yawning and stretching. Early risers, for a longer and healthier life, are out for their morning walks, and even jogs. There is harmonious silence all around when you can hear the nature talking to you. It is my time to drench in her and her time to drench in me. Some birds, in formation, appearing like arrows in the sky, about twenty in number are crossing the river. No one knows where they are coming from and where they are heading to. They appear to be in a great hurry. Nevertheless, they are giving an excellent fly-past, reminding you of the Republic-day-Parade. One can distinctly hear their calls but can’t make out what they are saying. Perhaps, discussing about, human atrocities.

    Many things in my life have gone stale. But not this daily setting. Where, I come and perch everyday as it unshackles me from the enduring shackles of life for some memorable moments. Otherwise, there is always so much to worry, so little to rejoice, so much to plan and all the more to execute. But for the present everything is set aside as it is my divine time. That refreshes me to take on the grueling day.

    Slowly, I start walking back as the sun begins to tower up.  Morning and the remaining day are two different worlds. And only the ones who have experienced it, know about it.

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By Kamlesh Tripathi

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Share if you like it

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause the bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

*

Our publications

GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(CAN BE BOUGHT FROM ON LINE BOOK STORES OR WRITE TO US FOR COPIES)

*****

 

 

NAMAMI BRAHMAPUTRA-BIGGEST RIVER FESTIVAL OF INDIA

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THEME SONG

… Namami Brahmaputra,

Kabhi shaant bahe kabhi rudra,

Pal pal mein ek naya chitra,

O Zindagi ke sakha

Yu he behna,

Dur hai shristi,

Brahma tere pita  …

    When the end gets nearer, life gets dearer, childhood comes closer and memories get thirstier. The song brings about wild nostalgia and takes me back in time, some 45 to 50 years when I used to sojourn in Guwahati circuit house, located near the High Court, on the banks of mighty Brahmaputra while driving down from Shillong, then capital of Assam, on my way to Kolkatta with my Parents. So, one can’t help but reminisce those wonderful times after hearing this beautiful song cranked by Mr Bachchan. I was very young then …

    I had not seen the mighty sea, but yes I was seeing the powerful Brahmputra in its shaant and rudra expanse as the song goes. The view from the circuit house was just tantalizing. Each morning as I woke up, I used to rush to the lawns and thereafter run to the railings that divided the circuit house from the long and wide embankment of the river.  As the sun rose, one could see herds of cattle flocking around the shore for water and pasture and their herdsmen, with their long crooks on their shoulders singing those folksongs, perhaps to please the rising sun. A few bare feet—bare chested Deswali milkmen too, passed my sight with their soiled dhotis tied around their slender waist. Generally in conversation, trying to describe the might of the river, while comparing it with the humble brooks in their distant village in faraway states.

    Even, when, it was hazy. From the embankment one could get a vivid view of the lush green Uma-Nandi islet, located in the centre of the river. It had tall trees and a few boats anchored around. From a distance, it appeared as a humble abode for some rural families involved in small time farming. Where, one could distinctly hear, calls of languri bandars (monkeys) coming from there, that could be heard right up to the rooms of the circuit house. The fierce flow of the river made that rhythmic splash at regular intervals, when it hit the shore, while it kept under wraps, its strong undercurrents. Something, that we humans also need to learn. To keep our raucous mood swings under check.

    All around there were hills and hillocks some tall and some not so tall. At a distance one could see a flurry of dinghies and even a couple of ferries carrying people across. By now the sun had arched up and its mirror image could be seen in the river water. The entire panorama is still so fresh in my mind as if it was captured by some high pixel camera about half a century ago.

    I jumped the railings to be on the other side of the circuit house that gave me a feel as if I had touched the river. But the flow of water was still at a distance. From here it looked blue and foamy. I walked the distance and up to the shore without anyone noticing me. Where, I dipped my hands to finally touch Brahmaputra. He was cold. Yet he was the biggest warmth around, for the civilisation. The passing herdsman yelled at me to get back, as the river had strong undercurrents. Meanwhile, his carefree children raced across to me. They appeared ace swimmers. The elder one jumped into the river and swam for a while. The others pointed their fingers towards the circuit house. ‘Yes I’m from there.’ I said. They clapped and asked for some money to buy ‘chanajor garam’ early in the morning. They were four so I gave them eight annas. And they immediately ran away, thinking, I might ask them to return the money as there was no one selling chanajor early in the morning. But soon I saw them at a close by tea stall.

    I waved and they waved back. Soon I was immersed in my own thoughts. Why are some places so beautiful and some so ugly? Why can’t fishes be out water and live with me? Why can’t I walk through the water and go to Uma-Nandi to see those langurs? Why do I need to always do, what others tell me, and not what I want to do?

    Suddenly, I could hear the voice of my Dad’s office boy. He was darting at me, finding me alone and that too on the banks of such a powerful river. The serene and enchanting morning was thus over but it had left a mark in me. I wish I could carry the mighty Brahmaputra with me in my pocket was the last thought.  

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     Namami Brahmaputra is the biggest river festival of India. It was organized across 21 districts in Assam from March 31-April 4, 2017. Brahmaputra is the only male river by name in India and the fifth most powerful river of the world with very strong undercurrents.

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By Kamlesh Tripathi

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Share if you like it

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause the bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

*

Our publications

GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(CAN BE BOUGHT FROM ON LINE BOOK STORES OR WRITE TO US FOR COPIES)

*****

 

 

 

 

 

THE POWER OF NATURE

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POWER OF NATURE

    Each morning as I walk up to the flowing rivulet near the small hillock that lies above my picturesque hamlet I get to feel the power of silence. Looks like everything around is trying to say something by remaining quiet. And on my way up as my steps take to the natural rhythm. It gives me a supernatural feel as if the hillock is the insurmountable head of Shiva. And the flora and fauna around are his deep rooted jatas and the rivulet is the humble adornment of Namami Gange. And where, both are in a stance to bless me and perhaps, they are also saying something when you distinctly hear the dribble upstream.

    Everything around is so very still. Is when, you get to feel, silence is the loudest explosion on earth. Very faintly at a distance you can now hear the horn of passing car that was not there earlier. Man has made mechanical inroads to most hideouts of nature. There is a chirping shemozzle that sounds like music in the bird’s camp that is only ratcheting as the dawn is broad banding. Some of them really don’t know what to do except for fluttering here and there for want of food. Few mongrels have just got up as the morning rays strike their eyes when they start stretching themselves. The flying butterflies as if have started a troupe dance to honour the morning rays of the sun. And one can indistinctly hear the mooing of the cows from the barn that only tells you that the village has woken up for the day.

    I halt to catch my breath is when I turn back. The hamlet looks much smaller than its actual size. Sights at times change even when reality doesn’t. I continue with my walk. There are no human beings here and so there is no ruckus. I’m all by myself. This is how I came and this is how I’ll go, all alone.

    I leisurely reach the top from where I get the divine view of my beloved village down below. I wonder what it must have taken Almighty to create this wonderful settlement. Perhaps even exotic creations are a small thing for him. There is a sudden drift in the direction of the breeze that only tells me to accept the ensuing change and there is no reason to feel lonely. For there is enough in nature to give you company when there is no human company around you. But you need to explore it.

    And like every day, I sit there for sometime, interacting, with my mother of all times, that is mother earth. This is where she caresses me. The intensity of which is equivalent to the intensity of the aromatic breeze that touches me all over. The shrill calls of some mynahs that have just landed there, give me a feel as if she’s trying to say you are not alone and I’m there. I feel rejuvenated. But it is time to head home now. So, I start the descent back. Where, on the way I come across a few goats and some cows as if giving me a standing ovation to my victory over loneliness. Is when I start humming the evergreen song of Kishore da … Zindagi ka safar, hai ya kaisa safar, koi samjha nahi koi jana nahi.

   (In today’s day and age loneliness is a huge social problem. It is not always possible for parents to be with their children and for children to be with their parents. But you still need to live it out and live it out grandly. So move out of your loneliness and explore the nature. For it has a cure for every life situation)

By Kamlesh Tripathi