Category Archives: spiritual

SHORT STORY- THE GREEDY FARMER

May 30, 2015ARTICLE SPIRITUAL, causerie, column, short story, snippet, spiritual, spiritual article, storyattitude, desire, farmer, forest, greedy, habit, jungle, mantra, message, mind, monkey, puran, short story, spiritual, upanishad, upnashidshravancharitymission

Long time ago there lived a lazy farmer in the countryside who wanted to become rich without any efforts. One day he learnt of a Mahatma (noble and learned person) who lived in the jungles and about whom it was famous that by visiting and praying to him one could fulfill his desires. So, he decided to visit him.

The Mahatma after peacefully listening to the farmer agreed to fulfill his wishes. He assured, ‘I will give you a mantra that will make you rich.’ And soon he passed it on to the farmer.

Who was now exuberant about the comforting thought, that without any efforts he will now become rich. But as he was about to leave, the Mahatma called him back and said, ‘Arrey, I forgot to tell you something important. The moment you start getting weary of monkeys this mantra will become ineffective, and then you will not get the fruits of it.’

Upon hearing this, the farmer started laughing and said, ‘Mahatma ji, you just don’t worry, monkeys have never troubled me, neither in the fields nor in my thoughts. And, for a long time I have not even dreamt of a monkey.’ And, after replying to the Mahatma, the farmer quickly rushed to his house and started preparing for a ritualistic recital of the sacred mantra.

But the moment he uttered the mantra he got terrified, because he thought of ‘monkey.’ Thereon, whenever, he uttered the mantra, he thought of monkey. And soon, every moment, the thought of monkey started troubling him. So much so that monkey even started coming in his dreams. And sadly by now, the thought of monkey had truly disturbed him, both while he was awake and also while he was asleep.

After some days the farmer was quite terrified and saddened as the thought of monkey had almost plagued his mind. And, when he was unable to bear this he went running to the Mahatma and fell on his feet and started sobbing, ‘Mahatma ji, I am extremely distressed as I have lost my peace of mind. I have no desire of becoming rich and you please take your mantra back and save me from the thought of monkey.’

This story is from an Indian Upanishad and reveals our mindset which like a monkey is never in our control. This story also conveys, goals are important but equally important is the means to get to your goal.

By Kamlesh Tripathi

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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)

*****

KNOW THY SELF … WHAT ARE YOU?

May 24, 2015beautiful lines, column, poem, POETRY, spiritualachievement, conscience, dream, goals, hrd, innerself, know thy self, know yourself, knowledge, myself, poem, spiritual, wisdom, you are, yourselfshravancharitymission

Copyright@shravancharitymission

You are what you like to think,

You are what you like to remember,

You are what you like to discover,

You are what you like to recover.

You are what you like to speak,

You are what you like to read,

You are what you like to write,

You are what you like to hear,

You are what you like to dream,

You are what you like to do,

You are what you like to scream,

You are what you like to achieve,

You are what you like to preach,

You are what you like to tread,

You are what you like to grace,

You are what you like to brace.

You are what you like to appreciate,

You are what you like to criticize,

You are what you like to support,

You are what you like to kill.

You are what you like to sing,

You are what you like to worry,

You are what you like to celebrate,

You are what you like to mourn.

You are what you like as company,

You are what you like to eat,

You are what you like to drink,

You are what you like to mint.

You are what you like to enjoy,

You are what you like to crib,

You are what you like to scoff,

You are what you like to rinse.

You are what you like to encounter,

You are what you like to interface.

And last but not the least, and as you breathe,

Whether you like it or not,

Some day you will realise,

You are only a sum total of all these.

To know yourself, honestly plot two choices against each to know the complex beehive you live in.

By Kamlesh Tripathi

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

Share 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)

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

*****

TOGETHER … BUT NOT MADE FOR EACH OTHER

May 15, 2015beautiful lines, poem, POETRY, snippet, spiritual, versesfeelings, love, made for each other, missing, moments, moments of life, poetry, spiritual, sunrise, sunset, togethershravancharitymission

…. Cherish your struggle together

TOGETHER … BUT NOT MADE FOR EACH OTHER

In the bygones of life I find …

… We sacrificed so much … to be together,

But soon I realised we were not made for each other.

How well we began together,

Only to learn midway,

That we were not made for each other.

Every criss-cross of life we treaded together,

Every sorrow and happiness we faced together,

In those steep ups … and slimy slides of life we held together,

But then again I thought we were not made for each other,

Each step in life, we took together,

Every deed, and misdeed if any, we enacted together,

Knowing fully well we were not made for each other,

We saw each wrinkle lining up in us together,

And, also, each strand greying in us together,

Yet, I always thought we were not made for each other.

One day we noticed our walk was slowing,

And another day we saw our shoulders were drooping,

Yet we kept walking together,

But even then I thought we were not made for each other,

Not one but every sunrise was together,

Not occasional, but each sunset was together,

And of course we laughed and fought and cried together,

Even when we were not made for each other,

And then one day,

In my dying moments when we were together,

I saw we were not only together but also made for each other,

But by then it was late,

Because our physical togetherness was over.

Life is a drag if you wish to live in dissensions and a melody if you adopt togetherness.

By Kamlesh Tripathi

Share 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

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)

*****

#SHRAVAN #CHARITY #MISSION-MANDATE- #donate to help #poor #children suffering from #cancer

May 1, 2015article, articles, book launch, causerie, column, ngo activity, short article, short article on cancer, short story, snippet, spiritual, spiritual article, story, tributes, Uncategorizedaadab lucknow...fond mempries, apollo, cancer, charity, child, children, donations, donor, gloom behind the smile, hospital, india, One to Tango ... Ria's odyssey, poor, refractions from the prism of god, SHRAVAN, shravan charity missionshravancharitymission

Dear Friends,

Shravan Charity Mission was started in the memory our late son ‘Shravan.’ He was diagnosed of ‘Brain cancer’ when he was only two-an-a-half years old. And after a long and well fought battle he succumbed tragically when he was sweet sixteen in the year 2009. It was a very arduous journey for us and since then we decided to help ‘Poor Children Suffering from Cancer,’ and the NGO was registered for this purpose.

Background: I have served in big corporate companies for over 36 years across India and at senior positions. But, I now pursue the cause of cancer. I am also a writer, author and a freelance journalist. I also run my own blog as detailed below. Through this blog we cover activities of our NGO where we make direct financial interventions for treatment of poor children; and we also write domain articles and also article of general interest. Currently we are working with Apollo Hospitals in their poor children’s ward, with Dr Amita Mahajan, Pediatric oncologist.

My wife is an educationist and works as a Principal in a B-Ed college and my elder son and daughter-in-law are both with corporate companies.

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

I am also giving below some other URLs with a brief introduction of what it stands for as it will help you in understanding our activities even better:

http://goo.gl/uZ26An Shravan remembrance day advertisement in the newspaper on 24^th February.

http://goo.gl/m6AbCF NGO Activity: Distributing toys to poor angels suffering from cancer.

http://goo.gl/4XqeQI Another way to remember #St #Valentine: #NGO activity on 14^th February 2015

http://goo.gl/XmtzoQ NGO activity #Caring for #poor #child #cancer #patients.

Dr Amita Mahajan, Apollo Hospital handing over medical assitance cheque

http://goo.gl/lpjcb1 NGO activity in the hospital on 25.4.15

http://goo.gl/vIGUIY #Nepal #Quake- 25.4.15, 2015. Short article on a lifetime of tragedy.

http://goo.gl/dNl0wZ HOW I DE-STRESSED MYSELF – IN A REAL LIFE SITUATION. the ultimate stress buster is your mind (Spiritual and real life)

http://goo.gl/D1mSOr TRIBUTE TO SUNITA TOMAR- THE #ANTI #TOBACCO #CRUSADER AGAINST CANCER

http://goo.gl/oHCcOz Lucknow Observer- Interview

http://goo.gl/ei8Fpa #Liquid-biopsy being tested in the US may soon be a boon for cancer treatment.

http://goo.gl/zztfto When even your critics come to see you off- Lucknow Boy Tribute to Vinod Mehta

MY PUBLICATIONS (Earnings go for the cause of poor children suffering from cancer)

http://goo.gl/eWuIS0 ‘#Book #review ‘Gloom behind the Smile’- A real life #story of a #child #cancer #patient (story of Shravan that you could purchase from us or an ebook from online stores – read the url) Book is archived in libraries of the US including the biggest library of world- Library of Congress, Washinton DC.

http://goo.gl/a1sUPH ‘#Aadab #Lucknow … fond memories’ is a book on Lucknow’s #culture (in novel format) of #Hindu-#Muslim #brotherhood. E-book is available in amazon.com and flipkart and some other stores. Print copies available with us. Book was launched in Lucknow Literary festival last year.

http://goo.gl/O3FgDY ‘One to tango … Ria’s odyssey.’ Is a #Story on #SINGLEHOOD about a #Delhi girl. The book is now archived in prestigious Connemara library of Chennai. In case you require a copy you can find in any online store or write to us.

Short stories for sale (Earnings go for cancer patients)

http://goo.gl/yCyImD ‘WHO SHOT THE #WILD #BOAR?’ Is a #short #story on #wild-life written to aid poor children suffering from #cancer. Price Rs 100 for a PDF copy

http://goo.gl/88UVzd ‘ ALLURING MIRAGE OF Raj estate-Ludhiana’ – a short family story written for the cause poor children suffering from #cancer. Price Rs 100 for a PDF copy.

FOR DONATIONS OR PURCHASES KINDLY MAKE A NET TRANSFER AS PER INDIVIDUAL URL OR DROP A CHEQUE IN ANY OF THE ACCOUNTS AND SEND US AN E-MAIL ON shravancharitymission@gmail.com AND WE WILL DESPATCH THE BOOK/SHORT STORY TO YOU

Account name: Shravan charity mission

HDFC account number: (04801450000140)

IFSC code: (HDFC0000480)

Account name: Shravan charity mission

Bank of India ac no: (680510110004635)

IFSC code: (BKID0006805)

Account name: Kamlesh Tripathi (for overseas $ transfer)

ICICI account no: (008301504072)

IFSC code: (ICIC0000018)

‘#LIQUID-BIOPSY’ BEING TESTED IN US MAY BE A BOON FOR #CANCER TREATMENT

April 21, 2015article, caring for child cancer patients, column, general knowledge, ngo activity, short article, short article on cancer, short srticle, snippet, spiritualblood test, cancer, child cancer, CT scan, health, healthy life, life, liquidbiopsy, patient, religion, scan, scientists, treatmentshravancharitymission

copyright@shravancharitymissions

Kamlesh Tripathi

Blood tests spots tumors earlier than scans

The real heroes of the world have been those scientists and researchers who have burnt endless hours of midnight oil. Only to research for the cause of reducing human suffering. We all live in physical boundaries called countries and follow certain faiths called religion. But when it comes to cancer or for that matter any life threatening disease. We break all human boundaries and religion and join the cause of humanity.

Enclosed news column is a matter of celebration.

THE FEAR-CHEER-MAGIC OF SMALL #FEEDBACKS

April 20, 2015article on feedback, ARTICLE SPIRITUAL, casual causerie, causerie, column, short article, short story, snippet, spiritual, spiritual article, story9 to 5 office hours, A.P., business world, corporate, executives, feedback, field executives, hrd, human relation, mahindra, managers, miryalguda, motivation, MSSL, positive thinking, spiritualshravancharitymission

By Kamlesh Tripathi

We all know the meaning of feedback. But just to refresh our minds – it is an advice, criticism or information about how good or useful something or somebody’s work is. Thus, many may consider feedback to be a frightful happening, and miss the cheer and magic behind it.

I was once working on a rural project in Miryalguda. A small sleepy town near Hyderabad in Andhra Pradesh. Since, there were no decent hotels in the town then. And the project was for a long duration. We had rented a small furnished house as our guesthouse.

There we had a cook-cum-caretaker 24×7. We were just the three of us staying there. All from North India. Although, our cook claimed. He knew well, how to cook North Indian cuisine. But the reality was quite the other way around. We, normally used to land in Miryalguda for a fortnight at a stretch. Thereafter, we used to hit Head Office at Mumbai for a couple of days. To report the progress of the project and to be with our families. Then return again for a fortnight. This continued for quite a few months. Locally, we had planned it in such a manner. That we used to have all are meals in the guesthouse. Where, we even preferred to carry our lunch, prepared in the guesthouse only. Just in case we were going out on a farmer-field visit, locally.

Our cook out there, was reasonably smart, hospitable, and a sensible young fellow. Who, normally used to serve Andhra dishes for breakfast and lunch. While he used to attempt some North Indian dishes every day for dinner. Quite realising. We must be missing home food. That unfortunately used to be worse in taste. Than even the Andhra meal, he used to prepare for us. Gradually, we had two issues at hand, relating to food. One, with the continuous hot Andhra food. Some of us started getting bouts of acidity. Two, after a couple of days of landing. We genuinely used to miss home food. And so, we were desperately looking for a solution.

One day in the evening while we all were having a cup of tea. We gave the cook some positive feedback about his culinary prowess. That charged him a wee bit. Next day. I gave him some tips on how to cook simple Dal, Chawal and Sabzi in North Indian style. Based on home recipe that i had carried.

To my surprise next day’s dinner was a delight. Quite close to the home food. And, thereafter, it only improved, over the next few days. But what was more surprising, was the fact. That a simple pep talk had created a world of a change in the cook in less than 24 hours. This small episode changed my persona to a great extent. Where, I realised. How very important it is. To keep cheering every human being on a regular basis, and not wait for milestones. Without which they start operating like mere zombies.

The incident changed me to a point of no return in life. Where, I would willfully compliment a cook for preparing a dish well. When, one could see the broad smile on his otherwise long face. Those days. I used to travel a lot and often by cabs. So, I made it a point to compliment drivers for safe driving. I could fathom the power of such small compliments. As they generated tremendous amount of positive energy. That is unimaginable. But could even race the progress of our country by leaps and bounds.

I then had many field executives and managers reporting to me. I never missed an opportunity of complimenting them on the spot for having done a good well. This definitely increased their morale and performance exponentially. That reflected on their annual appraisals too.

For let us not forget. Life is all about small building blocks. That makes the façade look grand. So, whenever you get a chance. Don’t let go the opportunity of passing. Small positive feedbacks to people around you.

*****

HOW WE DE-STRESSED OURSELVES– IN A REAL LIFE SITUATION: The ultimate stress buster lies in your mind

April 15, 2015article, ARTICLE SPIRITUAL, articles, beautiful lines, casual causerie, causerie, column, short article, short article on cancer, snippet, spiritual, spiritual article, story, vignetteapollo hospital, brain cancer, cancer, de-stress, death, destiny, exercises, faith, gloom behind the smile, happiness, hospital, life, mind, powerful thoughts, real life situation, spiritual, stress, stress buster, treatment, yogashravancharitymission

Copyright@shravancharitymission

I was once faced with an ominous situation that looked like a lifetime disaster, where my younger child was diagnosed of ‘Brain Cancer’ when he was just about two-an-a-half-years old. What followed thereafter was a long battle of nerves, emotions, brawn and brain through the thick and thin of my fast corporate life. Even though, at the end of it we lost the battle, because we couldn’t save him, but not before fighting up to the last straw.

I then had a very demanding corporate job. And during that phase of my life we were located in various metros such as Chennai, Mumbai and Delhi –NCR. Where, we did not have any day-to-day support from our extended family nor even old buddies. Nevertheless, we had to survive, by fighting the menacing circumstances, where, caring colleagues and friendly neighbours were the only ones who came forward to help us.

The prevailing situation fatigued me no end. I was working for some big banners those days who took good care of me. They were considerate under the circumstances. But I still had to continuously perform to keep my stalk and career ambitions alive. My wife, who too was qualified, had to abandon her career because she had to stay put at home to take care of the child. And beyond that, there were immense financial and emotional insecurities to deal with, in terms of expensive treatment, physical stress and the mystery behind the ultimate cure.

When he fell sick, we were in our late thirties. A tricky age, when we were not quite clear, whether we should adventure for a third child when the second was in peril to maintain the count of two. And God! it was a horrendous situation, when even the Indian economy every now and then was not doing well and lot of companies were issuing pink slips. This led to severe job insecurity, when every month our medical bills were spiraling above seventy five thousand in the final years of his life.

But even with all these humongous issues we needed to work and survive. So, we charted out an omnipotent methodology to de-stress ourselves. It was a seamless combination of ideas, thoughts, mythology and even some physical exercises, that took us through the ordeal. And, as we were approaching the end, the intensity of stress increased exponentially, and under those circumstances this was how we eased our tension:

CHAIN OF STRONG THOUGHTS:

Everything, in one’s life starts from the mind. Mind is your biggest problem. Your biggest enemy. But also your biggest friend. Your solution provider and leveler. So, we decided to control it by conditioning ourselves, in the following manner: By …..

Deciding to do away, with all the negative emotions.
Nothing is permanent so why worry. Just keep doing what you are supposed to do under the circumstances.
PUSH (Pray Until Something Happens) Pray and pray.
Don’t plan excessively. Take life one day at a time.
No matter how bad things are, they could be worse.
At any given time in your life. There is something going right and something wrong. This balances life. For in life not everything will go wrong, nor everything will go right in one go. That is the law of the nature.
Life is a very sturdy boat. So, just keep moving and don’t stop. For movement is life and stillness is death.
Whatever, you can do for the child do within your means. Don’t get intimidated by what others tell you to do. Especially, if it is beyond your means.
Our child may have to leave the world soon. But even I have to go some day. For that’s destiny. At the end of it we all have to go. No one can fight the law of nature. So why worry.
Don’t try to run the universe yourself. Leave few things to God. Your child could be one of them.
Human beings are blind. They can’t even see the next moment of life. So how can they predict the time of anyone’s death.
There is something called the destiny. Try and believe in it.
When the child was very critical towards the end days. I started believing in miracles all the more. Even when it did not happen with us. But it kept me charged under the circumstances.
I started taking my work more passionately. Remember your daily routine could be one of your biggest stress busters.
Just dress up and show up for work. Never sulk around in those negative surroundings and emotions.
After a bad day there is always a good day. But one really doesn’t know which is that bad day and which is a good day.
Only get dismayed by situations you have created for yourself and not situations that God has created for you. For he only will correct it. ‘Brain Cancer’ was God’s creation.
Try and be watchful whenever, there is a change of surroundings, locations, friends and colleagues around you. For, every change of situation, will have something new to offer. And, with that. There is also a possibility of some new energies coming close to you to influence you. Remember, life is all about positive and negative energies.
Life is an esoteric journey. For every new situation you’ll have some new company who would leave you when that part of the journey is over. So nothing is permanent.
To console ourselves we even started thinking. This child has a short life. He is here to spread a message. So, don’t just feel morose about it and help the cause.
In those firefighting days we had created our own little Gods. Anything, that helped our circumstances was like a God to us. And, how clearly, we felt. There are two worlds. One is the world of cancer and the other is without it for the lucky ones. Where, we belonged to the former.
We never initiated a discussion around our child’s health to look for sympathies. As we believed in God and in ourselves.

PHYSICAL ACTIVITIES

I took up to regular walking and weekend Golf. It was a great stress buster.
Deep breathing became a regular activity that helped us in restoring freshness and rejuvenated our lives, even in those scary nights when we couldn’t sleep.
I got hooked up to one of the soap operas that suited my timing for deflecting my tired mind.
We kept our home ambience alive for we didn’t want to give advance invitation to death. And, in that, we looked for micro positivity in life.
Whatever the child wanted we provided. We were proud of him and never negative.
I got into a hobby that still continues. To divert my mind.

MYTHOLOGY A GREAT LEVELER

What to talk of human beings, when, even Gods had to leave their mortal bodies.
The biggest unknown boon of life is a painless exit and a dignified death. Mythology, combined with our circumstances taught us that.

These are pointers from the book: “GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE” now catalogued in many libraries of the US including Harvard and Library of Congress. It is also catalogued in libraries of Canada and even India.

By Kamlesh Tripathi

Share 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

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)

*****

SPINDRIFT

April 13, 2015article, articles, casual causerie, causerie, column, short article, short srticle, short story, snippet, spiritual, story, Uncategorized, vignettebhootnath, camus, capt hameed, chandrakanta, col vinod, devaki nandan khatri, english novels, find, finding, hindi novels, Humphry Bogart, kafka, somerset maugham, spindriftshravancharitymission

Finding is such pure joy. And how rare, too! It had been several years since I had picked up anything when I found a penknife, a Hindi thriller and a five rupee coin, the last named beaming at me from below the seat of a ramshackle bus plying in our very own metropolis. Recalling that Elvis ditty ‘finders keepers, losers weepers’ I closed my eyes, stiffened my sinews and commended my soul to God before picking up the coin glistening in the errant sunbeam which had chanced through one of the innumerable slits in the roof. Nobody noticed. The conductor did raise a quizzical eye brow but that was about all. The term ‘conductor’ through over use has lost its semantic substance. The fellow is basically a logistics manager and with training can outsmart any sophisticated route operator. Even a funambulist might take a cue from the number of jobs he juggles while on board the boneshaker. This perception is wholly reserved for our country. Now coming back to the treasure trove -the Hindi thriller was a disappointment- not a patch on the Col Vinod and Capt Hameed era whodunits. Hindi detective fiction since then has been on the decline, virtually on the ‘endangered species’ list. Such a sorry state is inexplicable considering the vast treasure of Indian fiction available in genres like Sorcery, Witchcraft, Tilism, and detective fiction. ‘Chandrakanta’ and ‘Bhootnath’ had once fired the imagination of generation of readers and also contributed immensely to the popularity of Hindi language. These works of Devaki Nandan Khatri have outlived the copyright regime and are in the public domain since the early 60s. That is why they were churning out Chandrakanta serials decades ago paying scant regard to the original text and plot. But perhaps I am digressing.

In a life time frittered away looking at the mirror I scarcely noticed the ‘sixpence lying at my feet’. I was never much of a chance finder. At times one does strike a gold mine but the instances are so far removed that they vanish like the may snow drift. Once while waiting to get my vintage Ambassador car serviced I came across an unclaimed copy Of Human Bondage by Somerset Maugham. I was familiar with the works of Maugham and therefore happy to add to my collection of Moon and the Sixpence and Eyeless in Gaza. The neo-intellectuals in my college days would talk of Camus, Kafka and Maugham in the same breath. Perusal of their works was considered the hallmark of intellectual prowess and was a sure passport to the local salons where deipnosophists abound. Photograph of Camus in a trench coat and fedora with a cigarette dangling loosely from the corner of the mouth, looking very much the Bogart of the noir genre, was one of the most widely reproduced photograph of the time.

HUMPHRY BOGART

God’s largesse did not end with the book. This time it was a crumpled hundred rupee note with remnants of superfine khaini , the closest western variant being the snuff, much in vogue among the aristocracy of Europe in the days of yore. This bonanza came my way while going to Ranchi town from my college campus at Mesra. It was not one of those savoury trips one looks forward to but an undignified exit due to hostel vacation orders. As the college had been closed sine die it was being hotly debated whether to push homewards or to foregather in some cosy pastoral retreat for some good times together. It all depended on the pelf and riches.

Emboldened by the find I decided to join the merry revelers, home being at ‘Lands End’. Though I put the money to good use I still haven’t been able to figure out what made the fellow to ‘crumple it’ and to tuck the promissory note under the seat. Perhaps he was a chance finder like me and had acted the way he did to avoid detection by fellow passengers. Of course he would take the booty away while disembarking. Another plausible theory was that he has merely stored the surplus khaini there for a rainy day quite forgetting the king’s ransom in the form of a crumpled note.

I might add, that now and then, perhaps a ball pen, pocket comb or a sparsely populated purse or some such trifles, no matter how well supplied one may be with, cannot be acquired without a thrill. Think of a Blackbury or a Rayban thus found. We all live and learn. A defeatist may venture something like “it takes all sorts”.

The essence of finding something which brings to us unalloyed joy is half unexpectedness and half uniqueness. There being no aposematic forecast, no intuitive premonition and the ‘gift’ coming to you by chance: no one is to be thanked, no one to be owed anything. “Something for nothing … ” Ay, there’s the rub…”. Shakespeare has put these things so beautifully. To look for the thing is to transform the whole plot-to rob it of its ‘sublime suddenness’-perchance to become even concerned or greedy.

In its larger context we may use the word discovery-something akin to Columbus discovering America or was it the West Indies. Our concern for trifles and small findings are at once so stimulating and pure joy that to meddle with it would only appeal to a killjoy. Yet there are people who have an unsavoury sense of the sport!

I recall the small rustic game or charade being played out by stringing a purse or paper money (bill or note) or any such desirable object which the casual walker gleefully stoops to pick up. The pranksters conveniently hidden from view have a field day as they pull the string leading the unsuspecting wayfarer on a merry chase. There are many clever variants which the fun-seeking lads have in their repertoire. In this cyber age of ours such diversions may seem blasé. But for a country whose half the population lives below poverty line there may still be some relevance left in such innocuous and simple pastimes.

One common thread which runs through this serendipity is the absence of haste. My once rural seat and current urban dwellings present contrasting styles in time management. Reckon a simple activity like breakfast. Absence of haste is anathema to modern spirit. For most commuters it is always charged with disturbing quiet. The unnerving scenario of buses disappearing round the corner and the cacophony of traffic jams brood over the chota hazri , transforming mild God-fearing men into wild harpies as they sprint out like bats from hell. Down at the rural seat the meals are leisurely and indolent- a perfect epitome of laid-back country life of a cultured man. It is a breakfast of ease and languescent mood, a meal of ‘soft murmurs and rustling papers’.

Circumstances afford little options. This harum-scarum age of ours has everything excepting time where brutish bolting of food is the in-thing. However, a quiet leisurely, laid- back meal by the crackling logs in winter has its unwavering charm.

Let’s take a little time off for ourselves.

“We look before and after

And pine for what is not”

A.K.Tripathi,

Guwahati-2015

*****

VIGNETTE: #SABHARWAL LEAVES #SWAMI BEHIND IN #KAROLBAGH

April 3, 2015casual causerie, causerie, column, short story, snippet, spiritual, story, tributes, vignettecolleague, friends, jeewan deep building, karolbagh, north indian, office, parliament street, remember, sabharwal, scooter, south indian, swami, two wheeler, udyog bhawan, vespa scooter, vignetteshravancharitymission

Both Sabharwal and Swami were very senior to me both in age and seniority. Our office those days was in the sprawling boulevard of Parliament Street in New Delhi. Just opposite to the VIP police station, and not very far from the point where it embraced the ever famous Connaught circus. The pride of New Delhi and even India.

Sabharwal, a Punjabi Khatri used to reside in Kirti Nagar. While, Swami a Tamil Brahmin in Karol Bagh. That happened to be the nerve center of the huge South Indian population, residing in Delhi then. Sabharwal and Swami (S&S) made an interesting duo. One being the likes of a carefree, lively and mast Punjabi. The other, a conservative and ritualistic Brahmin from the South. Sabharwal then was the liaison manager and Swami the admin manager of the company.

While Sabharwal truly believed in YOLO (You only live once) and often basked in the theory of carpe diem. Swami prescribed to the simple Brahmin culture of south. And he made it more evident by sporting the famous horizontal chandan tilak on his forehead. Which noticeably, by the time he use to reach office used to dry up and change its colour.

But even with all the asymmetry between them in terms of their origin, habits, language and gait, I still found S&S to be the toast of office. I guess, the combination was explosive and somewhat different. Apparently, they were very good friends. They used to come to office together in the morning and even leave together in the evening. In Sabharwal’s faded, yet rugged Vespa scooter.

Once, like every other morning. Sabharwal, with his helmet tied to his chin. That reduced his audibility anyway, in the crowded traffic of Karol Bagh. Reached the usual spot, from where Swami use to hop on to his scooter. He saw Swami standing there. And as usual he halted for a moment and moved on. Thinking, Swami is well perched behind him. In about half an hour he reached office. As traffic used to be much less those days. Only to realise Swami was there. Most likely he was left behind.

Sabharwal, perplexed to this very unexpected one waited for some moments at the car park for him. Then slowly walked up to the office in the second floor. And following him soon. In Rambo style entered Swami, fuming. Mobiles were not invented then.

‘Arrey Baba, kya hua? Before, I could even sit. You moved the scooter, when my leg was midair.’

‘Arrey Swami, sorry yaar! I just don’t know what happened to me. I was in deep thoughts. Thinking, how to tackle that idiot in Udyog Bhawan. I stopped and moved, thinking you were on board, and since I was in deep thoughts. I never spoke to you and for some strange reason. I thought even you are quiet today. It was only when I was nearing Patel Chowk. I realised the scooter was feeling very light. Is when I turned around and you were not there.’

Out of breath Swami was slowly coming to terms with Sabharwal’s gross error. Is when we all had a hearty laugh followed by a cup of tea.

Today, Mr Sabharwal is not with us. To laugh and remember about this endearing and hearty episode. But we all have cherished memories of him. And this is what life is all about. My tributes to him, and may, he rest in peace.

*****

YOU REALLY WON’T KNOW WHO ALL WILL BE THERE TO SEE YOU OFF WHEN YOUR MOMENT COMES

February 19, 2015casual causerie, causerie, column, short article, short story, snippet, spiritual, storyaccident, annonymous, bad time, bhaisa kund, chicken, chicken tikka, close shave, death, family, future, good time, incident, karma, last moment, life, love, Lucknow, past, present, spiritual, time, unknown future, virtuesshravancharitymission

copyright@shravancharitymission

We know nothing about our future, yet we all have a future.

As narrated by anonymous in Lucknow.

It was just the other day when I had gone for a cocktail dinner to one of my friend’s place, on the occasion of his daughter’s wedding somewhere in Gomti Nagar. I had really done a lot of planning to be there. Having come, all the way from Delhi. But for some reason my wife couldn’t accompany me on that particular day.

Considering it will be a late night. I had hired a cab for the evening; and was expecting to have some great recalling moments. Catching up with some very old friends.Whom I had not met for an eon now. Besides that, I also expected many unknown, yet distinguished guests on the occasion. Overall a formal flashy gathering, where I wasn’t wrong.

The party had just about begun in the first floor of a guest house that he had hired. The epicenter of the venue was quite well lit, with a festive ambience. Buoying with some lilting ghazals and appropriating the celebratory occasion to a rocking start.

I too saluted the moment by gulping down some whisky, as I waved out for some piping hot chicken-tikka-kabab, in the freezing, yet enjoyable ambient temperature. And, as I put a piece in my mouth, very strangely it went straight down my throat and into my food pipe before I could even chew it and started choking me. I felt a little alarmed and cussed to begin with.

First, I tried to gulp it down with some whisky and then some water. But to my shock both whisky and water started oozing out of my nose but the chicken remained where it was. I rushed to the toilet thinking I’m about to vomit but there too nothing great happened as the chicken piece or the chicken bone, still remained stuck.

In all of this some fifteen to twenty minutes must have passed. By now the party was in full blast, when I could hazily see, some unknown, yet smartly dressed up couples and their children around me. Just then, I felt I was close to a blackout. But there appeared not a single known face in the tangible surrounding. Whom I could have shouted for help. Moreover the music was too loud. And, by now I was beginning to feel a little embarrassed.

It was an unexpected and painful moment for me. When I could feel my present withering to a repulsive future. Coming my way on fast track; to grip me. I was now in deep agony now, for over twenty minutes. Breathing heavily through my nose and messy all over, is when I decided to leave. For I didn’t want the party to get spoilt. And by now my eyes had even blurred. All the fluid stuck in my throat was dripping out of my nose. My hanky was all wet and by now some people had also started noticing me.

Fortunately, I was able to locate my cabby in the car park. I waved at him. He appeared to be a smart guy. As he smelt something was wrong with me, just by observing my body language and drove the car right up to where I was standing, as if in divine sync. I slid in, and in panic, I asked him to take me home. And even though, he could make out, I was unwell, He did not say a word till he put the car in motion.

By now, another five minutes had passed. I called my wife at home and told her to be at the gate, to take me to a doctor forthwith. Briefly describing, what was stuck in my throat. She panicked upon hearing this. I was in deep agony by now. My eyes were closing and I was breathless.

Meanwhile, the driver, while he was driving, opened his water bottle and asked me to forcefully drink some water even if I couldn’t. Which I did, but nothing improved. On the contrary I became a little more uncomfortable. He then slowed the car and started patting me on my neck, but I remained uncomfortable. By now, I could make out we were crossing ‘Bhaisa Kund,’ the cremation ground at around 9.30 in the night. That was indeed scary. As, I found it quite still and dark, with I so close to it. Will I be brought here tomorrow? Was the weird feel I got. And, will I survive this onslaught of chicken-tikka-kabab, I wondered, in surrendering emotion.

It was one of the most frightening moments of my life for obvious reasons. Since, no one from my family was there to hold me, except, the cabby who appeared as a family then. Who happened to be a young guy, and my only source of inspiration. Perhaps, the divine co-passenger sent from heaven, for the hallowed moment. I helplessly thought, will I make it from here? I pondered in pessimism, but by then my head had slumped forward, almost resting on the dashboard; perhaps the end was near, thought the cabby.

Is when I suddenly felt he had stepped up the vehicle. We were to turn right but he took to the left and in just about five minutes he stopped in front of a small hospital. He rushed inside and got a wheel chair and took me straight to the emergency ward with the help of a ward boy. By now, I was hardly able to converse, but the driver explained to the doctor, and the doctor with a minor procedure pulled out the chicken piece and advised me not to attempt it, ever again. And with that my trauma had subsided, but myriads of introspection arose.

Because, the last one hour had given me a feel of life’s biggest certainty, death. It also conveyed, you have very little control over your future. So enjoy every moment and create similar situations for others also. As anything can happen anytime. And all around you, you only have fellow passengers. For you don’t know who all will come to see you off. And, who all, you’ll see off, when the moment comes.

And, last but not the least, the incident took me close to an accident victim. Who suddenly dies away from his family and without any forewarning. He has no one to see him off. But my case was slightly different. Where, the fellow passenger, the driver in this case had come to see me off. For a moment I thought, the strong thread of family would have helped me go past that last flicker. From the feel of future to actually arriving at the future–death. But I guess the longing best wishes of my family and the presently departed souls at Bhaisa kund still wanted me alive and about, and so pulled me back with the lease of life. But then who knows when it will strike again.

*****