Category Archives: ARTICLE SPIRITUAL

SHORT STORY: DISCRIMINATION

Copyright@shravancharitymission

Deep inside the forest at an isolated stretch, there lived some very poor families. Their children were unwashed, unkempt and so they smelt horrible. But nevertheless, they were a happy lot. Where, they looked forward to playing with children in the playgrounds beyond. Sukhi the more adventurous among them, ventured far and out when he came across some neat and clean children playing to the core. He went up to them and tried to make conversation, but to his dismay they refused. Crestfallen, he wandered aimlessly for sometime till he came across a temple. Where, he met a Pujari. Who gave him ‘prasad’ and asked him, what secret sorrow was he nursing. He narrated how the children ran away from him when he approached them. The Pujari understood the situation and asked him to take bath in the well behind the temple and then approach the children again. Sukhi did as he was told. And to his utter surprise the children this time welcomed him, and let him play with them. So, he happily returned home in the evening. Is when, Sukhi’s mother noticed something amiss in him. She somehow didn’t like the new clean look and the sweet aura of her son. She got angry and enquired. Who had brought about this transformation in him? Sukhi informed her that it was the Pujari. She immediately caught his hand and dragged him to the Pujari. There she berated him in no uncertain terms for changing his son, from an uncouth, slovenly and foul smelling child, into his present state. She asked the Pujari to restore her son to the original state. The Pujari made Sukhi bathe in another well and lo and behold he became his old self. Sukhi’s mother then explained that she liked her son the way God had made him, with all his smells and blemishes. Society must accept the way people are and not resort to cosmetic changes.

The narration is adapted from an American story. The wider connotation of which, could even remind you of the discrimination of the blacks especially in America, South Africa and many other countries practicing apartheid, and even the lower caste in India.

Let life be as simple as possible. Don’t complex it with superficiality.

Written by Mr Ajit Tripathi

–Posted by Kamlesh Tripathi–

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https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

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Share it if you like it

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases especially cancer. 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

(The book is about a young cancer patient. Now archived in 7 prestigious libraries of the US, including, Harvard University and Library of Congress. It can also be accessed in MIT through Worldcat.org. Besides, it is also available for reading in Libraries and archives of Canada and Cancer Aid and Research Foundation Mumbai)

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

(Is a book on ‘singlehood’ about a Delhi girl now archived in Connemara Library, Chennai and Delhi Public Library, GOI, Ministry of Culture, Delhi)

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

(Is a fiction written around the great city of Nawabs—Lucknow. It describes Lucknow in great detail and also talks about its Hindu-Muslim amity. That happens to be its undying characteristic. The book was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival of 2014)

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(Co-published by Cankids–Kidscan, a pan India NGO and Shravan Charity Mission, that works for Child cancer in India. The book is endorsed by Ms Preetha Reddy, MD Apollo Hospitals Group. It was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2016)

TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN

(Is a story of an Indian salesman who is, humbly qualified. Yet he fights his ways through unceasing uncertainties to reach the top. A good read not only for salesmen. The book was launched on 10th February, 2018 in Gorakhpur Lit-Fest. Now available in Amazon, Flipkart and Onlinegatha

(ALL THE ABOVE TITLES ARE AVAILABLE FOR SALE IN AMAZON, FLIPKART AND OTHER ONLINE STORES OR YOU COULD EVEN WRITE TO US FOR A COPY)

*****

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BOOK TALK: LETTERS OF GURUDEV RABINDRANATH TAGORE

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Khidki (Window)

–Read India Initiative—

This is only an attempt to create interest in reading. We may not get the time to read all the books in our lifetime. But such reviews, talk and synopsis will at least convey what the book is all about.

LETTERS OF GURUDEV RABINDRANATH TAGORE

    If the razzmatazz of this hurly-burly digital life is beginning to throttle your peace, pace and cheer of mind? If the endemic digital platform—whatsapp, played, more by adults than children, since its invention has turned your life into a hackneyed saga. You need to go back in times for some more sans souci. Let me therefore take you through the synopsis of a letter written by Tagore. That winds-back in time and is indeed a refreshing read.

    Tagore had written many such letters during his lifetime in Bengali. Later, in 1920 he translated them into English. And it goes without saying, that these letters take you to that litterateur’s magnetic world almost immediately. It unleashes that ‘thinking English’ on you that revs up your literary appetite. When you go into a pleasant reverie. It of course, stay’s away from the current day ‘instant English’ with that digital makeup. He narrates each letter in that typical atavistic settings. Today, I have attempted to summarise one such letter for you.

BANDORA, BY THE SEA –written in October 1885

    I have turned twenty seven. While being seated by the sea side in Bandora, located in Ponda Taluka of North Goa. I’m able to capture the gestures of the unprotected sea that huffs and puffs. And while doing so it transforms into the tiresome froth. The sea equates with the feel of some shackled giant as if straining at its bonds. That too, right in front of the gaping jaws of the land. Where, we build our homes on the shore and watch it lashing its tail at the sea. Wow! What a massive show of strength that sends the waves splashing high, like the muscles of a giant.

    Primeval and from time immemorial this battle between the land and water has been going on. The parched earth slowly and steadily is only adding the sea to its kitty and thus spreading a broader apron for its children. Where, the ocean is receding under consternation step by step. Wailing and sobbing, beating its chest in despair, as if to a somber call of beating the retreat. One shouldn’t forget. Sea was once the sole monarch—utterly unencumbered.

    After all, land has only risen from its womb and usurped its throne. Since then sea has become the mad old creature with a heavy crest of foam. It moans and groans, and laments continually. Like King Lear … exposed to the fury of these elements.

    These events of land and sea keep impacting my mind on and on. As nothing else has happened of late apart from my turning, twenty-seven.

    But turning twenty seven is no trifling … happening for me. As I have crossed the meridian of the twenties. I am now progressing to thirty. They say I’m now headed towards maturity an age. Where, people begin to expect fruit rather than fresh foliage consumed hitherto. But alas, where is the promise of fruit. As I shake my head. Life still feels like a brimful of luscious frivolity, with not a trace of deep philosophy.

    Folks in general have started complaining: “Where is that something that we expected of you. In the hope of which, we absorbed the soft tenderness of your childhood? We can’t be putting up with immaturity forever? So, it is high time for us to know what we shall gain from you. We want an estimate of the proportion of oil which even, a blindfolded miller or an unbiased critic can squeeze out of you.”

    It is impossible to delude people into waiting expectantly any longer for results. While I was under age they trustfully gave me credit. But it is sad to disappoint them now that I am on the verge of thirty. But what am I to do? Words of wisdom will not come so easily. I am utterly incompetent to provide things that may profit the multitude. Except for, a snatch of a song, or some tittle-tattle, and a little merry fooling, that I’ve been able to advance. As a result, those who had high hopes will turn their wrath on me. But then, no one has ever begged them to nurse these expectations of me.

    Such were the thoughts that assailed me since a fine Bysakh morning. When, I wake up amidst the fresh breeze and light with a new leaf and flower. Only to find, that I had stepped into my twenty-seventh year.

    Even way back in 1885 Gurudev was able to comprehend the rivalry between the land and the sea. 

By Kamlesh Tripathi

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https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

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Share it if you like it

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases especially cancer. 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

(The book is about a young cancer patient. Now archived in 7 prestigious libraries of the US, including, Harvard University and Library of Congress. It can also be accessed in MIT through Worldcat.org. Besides, it is also available for reading in Libraries and archives of Canada and Cancer Aid and Research Foundation Mumbai)  

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

(Is a book on ‘singlehood’ about a Delhi girl now archived in Connemara Library, Chennai and Delhi Public Library, GOI, Ministry of Culture, Delhi)

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

(Is a fiction written around the great city of Nawabs—Lucknow. It describes Lucknow in great detail and also talks about its Hindu-Muslim amity. That happens to be its undying characteristic. The book was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival of 2014)

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(Co-published by Cankids–Kidscan, a pan India NGO and Shravan Charity Mission, that works for Child cancer in India. The book is endorsed by Ms Preetha Reddy, MD Apollo Hospitals Group. It was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2016)

TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN

(Is a story of an Indian salesman who is, humbly qualified. Yet he fights his ways through unceasing uncertainties to reach the top. A good read not only for salesmen. The book was launched on 10th February, 2018 in Gorakhpur Lit-Fest. Now available in Amazon, Flipkart and Onlinegatha

(ALL THE ABOVE TITLES ARE AVAILABLE FOR SALE IN AMAZON, FLIPKART AND OTHER ONLINE STORES OR YOU COULD EVEN WRITE TO US FOR A COPY)

*****

 

 

 

 

ROLE MODEL TO FUGITIVE –WAS IT WORTH IT … VIJAY MALLAYA?

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ROLE MODEL TO FUGITIVE—VIJAY MALLAYA

    India unceasingly semaphores across its shores, and even megaphones internally, in high voltage forums, about its high pedigree, of a throbbing ‘conscience.’ But the impression gets totally pasty-faced when the world comes across deceitful Indians such as Vijay Mallaya and now even Nirav Modi and Mehul Choksi.

    India has enough laws to tackle crime. But the only ones generally caught, are the small fries. Where, big ones escape.

    Of course to control crime, laws are required, but to prevent, even a sensitive conscience would do. But, do Indian tycoons, have the tall conscience in them, is the moot point. And it requires only one bad fish to spoil the whole pond.

    Recently, I came across an interesting page or two in one of Shobhaa De’s book that was published way back in 2008. Even with all her connections, insight and even intellectual wisdom. She could not predict, what Vijay Mallaya would turn out to be—a deceit. That will even make his late father Vittal Mallaya, turn in his grave.

    Writes Shobhaa De, ‘Vijay Mallaya? The ‘King of Good Times?’ Yeah … oh yeah … what a life! Mallaya has emerged as the number one symbol of spectacular success. Youngsters frequently vote for him as their favourite icon. His larger-than-life image is further bolstered by smart positioning –he is the ultimate brand for his range of ‘products’. A range that comprises India’s first-ever ‘five-star airline’ to leading alcohol brands (Mallaya is number three in the world of booze barons). But more than his business profile, its Mallaya’s jaw-dropping personal style that attracts the youth—jumbo sized solitaires in each earlobe, enough gold chains around his neck to give P. Diddy a complex and a yacht (Indian Empress) that’s huge enough to host mega-parties on its multiple decks.

    Austerity a la Narayanmurthy? No, thank you. Too discreet. Flamboyance is in. That goes for the Ambanis as well. Given their more sober living (no booze, strictly vegetarian), and their workaholic reputation

    There’s a fleet of private jets, too. And grand residences in every glamorous destination in the world—from California and Monaco to Goa. Which wide-eyed ambitious Indian youngster wouldn’t want to be in Mallya’s snakeskin shoes?’

    I wonder what Shobhaa De must be feeling about her well intended pages today. Where, she had projected Vijay Mallaya to be the role model of many young Indians. But sadly the reality is quite different. When we compare India’s Vijay Mallaya to America’s Bill Gates we are put to shame. And why is it that some people who are born with a platinum spoon. Conspire for more, that they cannot digest. Well … you’ll only have to meet Vijay Mallaya to find out the answer, or the new entrants in the game that is Nirav and Mehul.

***

By Kamlesh Tripathi

*

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

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Share it if you like it

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases especially cancer. 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

*

By Kamlesh Tripathi

*

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

*

Share it if you like it

*

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

(The book is about a young cancer patient. Now archived in 7 prestigious libraries of the US, including, Harvard University and Library of Congress. It can also be accessed in MIT through Worldcat.org. Besides, it is also available for reading in Libraries and archives of Canada and Cancer Aid and Research Foundation Mumbai)

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

(Is a book on ‘singlehood’ about a Delhi girl now archived in Connemara Library, Chennai and Delhi Public Library, GOI, Ministry of Culture, Delhi)

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

(Is a fiction written around the great city of Nawabs—Lucknow. It describes Lucknow in great detail and also talks about its Hindu-Muslim amity. That happens to be its undying characteristic. The book was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival of 2014)

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(Co-published by Cankids–Kidscan, a pan India NGO and Shravan Charity Mission, that works for Child cancer in India. The book is endorsed by Ms Preetha Reddy, MD Apollo Hospitals Group. It was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2016)

TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN

(Is a story of an Indian salesman who is, humbly qualified. Yet he fights his ways through unceasing uncertainties to reach the top. A good read not only for salesmen. The book was launched on 10th February, 2018 in Gorakhpur Lit-Fest. Now available in Amazon, Flipkart and Onlinegatha

(ALL THE ABOVE TITLES ARE AVAILABLE FOR SALE IN AMAZON, FLIPKART AND OTHER ONLINE STORES OR YOU COULD EVEN WRITE TO US FOR A COPY)

*****

 

 

 

Happy birthday dear Shravan

Copyright@shravancahritymission

 

Dear Shravan,

Today is your 25th birthday. Sadly, for us it is also the 9th one, without you. I really don’t know where you are. But the spirit of time does tell me you are somewhere here and somewhere there for our care. In our deep loneliness I find your memories still coming to our rescue. The world has changed for us—almost an upside down. Where, the objectives have become hazy but the din of life has only increased. There was a lesson I had derived out of your untimely demise. To, work for poor children suffering from cancer. What you suffered. I now pursue the cause. Ma Prachi and Kartik, all help me in that. It gives us great satisfaction. Down the years I also realized. There are two different worlds for the parents. One, is of those, who have seen their children departing in front of them. The other is of those, that have seen their children flourishing in front of them. The former is very—very painful to accept. I have written two books about cancer patients. Just to, convey to the world. What it takes to fight the dreaded disease and the mental and physical suffering of the patients and their near and dear ones. The books have been well received by the readers.

    My temporal connect with the world has lessened but not my grit. It is said to every birth there is a death for sure. Yet I realized. It is not that easy to accept the departure of your child in front of you. It took a long time for me and Ma to accept life without you. Even today we are not hundred percent of what we used to be. Both of us keep working like mad. We don’t want to sit at home else we’ll go crazy with your fond memories.

    There is one person who calls me each year on the day you expired. He is a Sardar. A granthi in  a Gurudwara in Faridabad. Just a week before you left us and when you were in the hospital, his twenty year old son had expired in front of us in the same hospital. And he knows you expired a week later. So there is divine connect between me and him. The few consoling words that he says are enough to recharge me.

   What else to say. You came and you left. May God bless you and bless us too.

*****

By Kamlesh Tripathi

*

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

*

Share it if you like it

*

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

(Archived in 7 prestigious libraries of the US, including, Harvard University and Library of Congress. It can also be accessed in MIT through Worldcat.org. Besides, it is also available for reading in Libraries and archives of Canada and Cancer Aid and Research Foundation Mumbai)

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

(Archived in Connemara Library, Chennai and Delhi Public Library, GOI, Ministry of Culture)

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

(Launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2014)

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(Co-published by Cankids–Kidscan, a pan India NGO and Shravan Charity Mission, that works for Child cancer in India. The book is endorsed by Ms Preetha Reddy, MD Apollo Hospitals Group. Book was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2016)

TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN

Story of an Indian salesman who is lowly qualified but fights his ways through uncertainities to reach the top. A good read for all salesmen. Now available in Amazon.com

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

*****

 

THE FREEZING WINTER MORNING

Copyright@shravancharitymission

 

–When I went for a morning walk–

    It was six in the morning. The weather stood like the halted debacle, likely to come through any moment. It was stormy and close to, pitch dark, numb and of course freezing. Foggy enough to, fog anyone’s senses. Where, the teasing breeze had only intensified the chill. That was now around six degrees—as displayed in my mobile. The streets were still barren. The amber streetlight round the corner was still glowing full bright. It had a sharp halo around it. In the backdrop of which, one could see the improvised screen of the cascading dew. That looked beautiful, yet frightful, to even touch. There weren’t any dogs in sight like in summers, for a change. Nor were there, mild growls, from any of the hidings around.

    By now, I had paced up, my walk. To, beat the chill. When, I could see a few newspaper walas on their bicycles, along with a few, milk boys racing up and down with their milk-carts to be on time. Everyone has a working world of his own. Some call it a career and some even a profession. That God mandates. My walking track, was laid out for the next one hour. Some priests along the roadside temples, had just about woken up their God’s. So they thought. In ten minutes of brisk walking I had reached the embankment of the twining river. It was calm. As if, away, from the tantrums of, the unruly gale.

    I looked back. Knowing well enough, no one was following me. Except for, the chilly wind, that too, in darkness. Though, my mind was in a slouch. Body was feeling energetic. Just then I could figure out. The first ray of the daylight that had breached the horizon to announce the dawn. When, I could hear the chatter of a few birds. And could also see a disheveled crow. Perched, on an electric pole, cawing away to glory. Suddenly I felt animated. A speeding car was now in sight. I’m sure. The driver of which must be feeling like a VIP with no traffic signals telling him to stop.

    Some street urchins were up by now. They were gearing up, for the hard day ahead, with their little knick-knacks. The redness of the sun was now in sight. And had as if, painted the skyline red. But I feared. It might, soon be overshadowed by the sulking winter clouds. The needs of the world are so strange. What one adores in winters is the sun and what one adores in summers is the shade. Conversely what one hates in summers is the sun. And, in the winter, is the shade. Nothing is constant.   Where, only time rules. But then it has strange ways.

    The warmth of the sun was now, in the air. I welcomed it, by opening my arms. As I slowly began with my routine calisthenics while I kept moving. My mind had leapt beyond the freeze for the first time in the morning. For light brightens you up, and light freshens you up.

    I was past the river embankment, by now. It had flowed all night. It never stops, like time. By now I was more than my, half way mark. Stray thoughts were now, all over me. But, superseding all of that was, the thought of work. Till you’re alive there will be work to do. It will never leave you. So continue doing something or the other, even if you don’t have enough to do.

    For life is all about karma and without karma there is no life. And it was about time to kick-off the day.

*****

By Kamlesh Tripathi

*

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

*

Share it if you like it

*

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

(Archived in 7 prestigious libraries of the US, including, Harvard University and Library of Congress. It can also be accessed in MIT through Worldcat.org. Besides, it is also available for reading in Libraries and archives of Canada and Cancer Aid and Research Foundation Mumbai)  

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

(Archived in Connemara Library, Chennai and Delhi Public Library, GOI, Ministry of Culture)

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

(Launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2014)

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(Co-published by Cankids–Kidscan, a pan India NGO and Shravan Charity Mission, that works for Child cancer in India. The book is endorsed by Ms Preetha Reddy, MD Apollo Hospitals Group. Book was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2016)

TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN

Story of an Indian salesman who is lowly qualified but fights his ways through uncertainities to reach the top. A good read for all salesmen. Now available in Amazon.com

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

*****

   

HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM THE GOLF COURSE

Copyright@shravancharitymission

     I thought of locking the year with a few rounds of golf. So I played nine holes today. Shall continue with it, even tomorrow, and even day after, and positively on the 1st day of, 2018. They say what you do on the last day of the year, continues with you in the ensuing year. And what you do on the first day of the New Year remains with you throughout the year. Golf certainly is my vaunted lifeline.

     It was a wonderful experience in some months. When, you happened to be in the golf course, on a cold winter morning. That too, when, the visibility was poor. And where, the morning sun was as if, heckled by those seasonal miscreants, while it was is on its way up. To, greet the golfers.

    Of course it was a dare to reach the club early in the morning. As you don’t feel like leaving the warm bed in the accompaniment of the soft quilt. It was a frigid and shivering start, at hole number one. Climaxing, to a warm and cozy end, at hole number nine. The entire flora including the carpet of grass was covered with dew. On which the foot marks of the golfers were clearly visible. Perhaps, if you had seen their soles, you would have known who all were ahead of you. Even the bounce of the golf ball had left an impression on the gleaming blade of the grass, followed by its long roll all along the carpet that was noticeable to the eyes even from a distance. In all of this one could but feel the change setting in. That is the advent of the New Year.

    As we go from 17 to 18 one wonders how the year was spent. So it is time to introspect, over the year. What satisfied you …. What demeaned you? And what remained as a routine. Turn of the year is a big leveler. Where, one can start afresh, with hitherto, unaccomplished missions. I’m sure you’ve thought enough about it. So act now. For life is short. So do what you wish to do and do it now. Says the famous proverb—‘time and tide wait for none.’ 

………………………… have a great 2018

 

By Kamlesh Tripathi

*

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

*

Share it if you like it

*

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

(Archived in 7 prestigious libraries of the US, including, Harvard University and Library of Congress. It can also be accessed in MIT through Worldcat.org. Besides, it is also available for reading in Libraries and archives of Canada and Cancer Aid and Research Foundation Mumbai)  

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

(Archived in Connemara Library, Chennai and Delhi Public Library, GOI, Ministry of Culture)

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

(Launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2014)

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

(Co-published by Cankids–Kidscan, a pan India NGO and Shravan Charity Mission, that works for Child cancer in India. The book is endorsed by Ms Preetha Reddy, MD Apollo Hospitals Group. Book was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2016)

TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN

Story of an Indian salesman who is lowly qualified but fights his ways through uncertainities to reach the top. A good read for all salesmen. Now available in Amazon.com

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

*****

 

CONSCIENCE & CONFESSION

Copyright@shravancharitymission

 

    It reminds me of a time when I used to go to a park every day, early in the morning. The place was still and quiet—reminding you of those famous words—pin drop silence. It was a long morning walk, from where I stayed and it was also mid-way for me. Where, I use to take a break. The park was located about twenty feet, above the banks of a river and in between the two there was a steep slope. To, secure the area from anyone, falling into the river. A rugged railing had been raised only recently. The other end of the park touched the busy road. Coming all the way from the airport and passing into the main city. Beyond the river, there was a tall dark and handsome hillock that gave a great sense of scenic fulfillment.

    All around, it was lush green, especially, during the monsoons. When, the water level at times used to rise and ripple past the edge of the gradient to enter the park. I normally sat there each day for about ten to fifteen minutes. Just for some meditation and introspection that refreshed me to take on the tough day ahead. I had relocated to the city some six months back as an Inspector in the police department. Out there. I also found many health freaks coming for morning walks but some just to lollygag.

    Close to the main gate of the park. There was a small tea stall. I guess. It grossed all its major revenues early in the morning itself while serving the morning walkers.  Once in a while it also served hot pakodas that tasted deadly, with that hot dhaba tea.

    I had become a little pally with the tea stall owner who was young and appeared somewhat educated. There was always a newspaper lying around the stall. Where, tea buffs often rushed through the headlines and exchanged informal barbs.

    As a regular visitor I had started recognizing quite a few faces. Gradually, I even got to know the names of some. One out of them happened to be an old person. About whom I noticed, was normally quiet. One day the stall owner. Who knew, I was a police inspector, introduced me to him. His name was Robert.

    In a matter of days I started interacting with him and referred to him as ‘uncle.’ He must have been around seventy. He spoke very less. But whenever he did, he was to the point. He was normally in his own world and nothing amused him.

    Days passed. When, one day he came up to me and asked,

     ‘Are you in the police?’

    I said, ‘yes.’

    ‘Then, can you do me a favour?’

     I said, ‘what favour?’ He looked at me for a while and said.

    ‘Many years back when I was young. While playing in this park I had a fight with my best friend and that escalated. As a result of which I pushed him down the slope over there. He fell into the river. It was monsoon season. When, the river was in full spate and he was swept away, and never returned.’

    ‘So then did you not tell the police, that you had pushed him?’

    ‘No.’

    ‘But why?’

    ‘Because I was scared I’ll be arrested. So the police registered a case of accident, that he didn’t know swimming so he drowned.’

    ‘So then, why are you telling me your story now and that too after so many years?’

    ‘After fifty years to be exact. To, clear my guilt or  you could say conscience. Because, you’re in the police and if you want, you can arrest me for the crime.’

    ‘But have you told this to anyone else?’

    ‘No.’

    ‘But why?’

    ‘Because he was my next door neighbour.’

    ‘So how does that matter?’

    ‘It matters, because, years later, I married his sister.’

    ‘But does she know you were the one who pushed his brother?’

    ‘A few years back I did tell her. She couldn’t bear the shock and expired within weeks.’

    ‘And what about your children?’

    ‘I have two sons. Both are in Australia. They don’t know about my crime. But maybe you can tell them after I’m arrested or I’m gone.’ After this he got up, picked his walking stick and started walking. Perhaps, he was heading home.

    After the conversation a couple of days had passed. I had not seen Robert. One day when I reached the tea stall. I was informed by the stall owner that Robert had committed suicide. I was shocked at the news. Perhaps, he was preparing for it mentally when he told me about his act of crime. I attended his funeral where I even got to meet his two sons Richard and Simon.

    Thereafter, I continued with my morning walk as usual. One day when I reached the tea stall. The owner gave me a sealed enveloped that Robert had left for me. I opened it. There was another sealed cover in it with the name and address of Richard in Australia with a request to send it across through a reliable courier. Which I did.

    Robert after losing his wife couldn’t have taken a chance on his sons. But anyhow he wanted to confess about his crime to his children. Which he did after he was gone.

    Moral of the story: Your conscience is the most endurable jury in you.

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By Kamlesh Tripathi

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https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

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