Tag Archives: birds

SHORT STORY: The Monkey and the Crocodile

Copyright@shravancharitymission@gmail.com

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

The Monkey and The Crocodile

By Vishnu Sharma

    Once upon a time, in a forest, there lived a monkey who resided on a jamoon (berry) tree, which was on the banks of a river. In the same forest, there lived a crocodile and his wife. One day the crocodile came to the banks of the river and rested under the tree. The kind-hearted monkey offered him some fruits. The crocodile came back the next day for more fruits as he loved them. As days passed by, the crocodile and the monkey became good friends.

    One day the monkey sent some fruits for the crocodile’s wife. She ate the fruits and liked them. But became jealous as she didn’t like her husband spending time with the monkey. She told her husband, “If the fruits are so juicy, I wonder how sweet the monkey’s heart would be. Get me the heart of the monkey.” The crocodile was not willing to kill his friend but had no choice.

    He invited the monkey to his house for dinner and said that his wife would like to meet him. The monkey was happy but couldn’t swim, so the crocodile took him on his back. The crocodile was happy that he had tricked the monkey, however, while talking he blurted out the real reason for taking the monkey home. The clever monkey said, “You should have told me earlier, I left my heart on the tree. We must go back and get it.” The crocodile believed and took him back to the tree. The clever monkey saved his life.

Moral of The Story: Choose your company wisely and always have a presence of mind.

Synopsis by Kamlesh Tripathi

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https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases especially cancer. We maintain this blog for the pleasure of our readers. 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

(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: PANCHANTRA by Vishnu Sharma

Copyright@shravancharitymission

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

PANCHTANTRA

By Vishnu Sharma

    Panchatantra moral stories are one of the most popular collections of animal-based fables. Originally written in Sanskrit, where, each of these fables have a concomitant moral. These stories are simple to understand. They are colourful and appropriate even for tiny tots and provide valuable lessons that stay in the mind … forever.

    The legend about the origin of Panchatantra goes back to times of King Amarashakti. Who had appointed a scholar by the name of Vishnu Sharma to educate his three sons. Vishnu Sharma soon realized that conventional tools and techniques of teaching will not work well with these princes, so he decided to teach them through stories instead. He, therefore, wrote a collection of stories under the following five volumes, and so it was named as Panchatantra (‘pancha’ – five and ‘tantra’ – systems).

  • Mitra labha (gaining friends)– Collection of stories relating to winning of friends.
  • Mitra bheda (losing friends)– Collection of stories relating to losing friends.
  • Aparïksitakárakam (acting without thinking) – Collection of stories relating to how imprudence leads to losing what is important.
  • Labdhapranásam (Loss of gains)– Collection of stories that mention how to come out of difficult situations without losing things.
  • Kákolùkïyam (Crows and owls)– Collection of stories about rules and strategies of war and peace.

The Panchatantra was translated into many languages, including English, Indian vernacular languages, Persian and Arabic.

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)

*****

 

 

 

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)

*****

   

THE ALLURING WORLD OF EARLY MORNING

Copyright@shravancharitymission

 

 

    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.

*

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)

*****

 

 

Lesson from the Eagle’s nest

Copyright@shravancharitymission

 

 

 

 

 

     The eagle finds the tallest tree or the highest mountain ledge to build its nest. It lays the first layer of the nest with sharp objects such as thorns and stones. Next it covers the layer of sharp objects, with soft material such as wood, feathers and animal fur. As the baby birds hatch, the soft layer of the nest surrounds them. After they grow a bit, the mother eagle takes the nest material and mixes it up. The jumbled mass becomes a mixture of sharp objects and soft ones. Some of the sharp edges even cut the baby bird’s skin. Soon, the mother stops putting food from her mouth into babies’ mouth. Suddenly their comfortable world becomes painful. And this she does to prepare them to fight the world.

    Eagle teaches us a great lesson as far as upbringing of children is concerned. Where, our first duty is to make our children capable and street smart so that they can fight the uncertainties of life with ease.

By Kamlesh Tripathi

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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)

*****

 

 

Short story: The farmer and the crane

Copyright@shravancharitymission

cranefarmerfarmer

     Once, a diligent farmer was harassed by the birds when they started attacking his fields. The fields were located close to the nearby forests that happened to be the habitat of many such varieties of birds. The moment the farmer used to sow the seeds and cover it with sand. These pack of birds used to land there and consume the seeds from under the sand. The farmer had gone tired. Trying to keep these birds at bay and was having a harrowing time. Since a lot of these seeds were already eaten away by the birds it was making his farming uneconomical. At last, he had no alternative but to cultivate his land all over again and sow fresh seeds.

    But this time anticipating the same nuisance. He brought along with him a big net and laid the trap of the net over the entire field. Many birds as before came to pick the seeds but got trapped in the net. Along with the birds even one crane got stuck in the net.

    When the farmer started catching the birds in the net the crane implored—‘please have mercy on me. I have not put you to any loss nor have I eaten your seeds. I’m neither a hen, nor a sparrow nor any other seed consuming bird. I’m a crane. I only eat insects that are harmful for crops. Therefore please leave me.’

    Farmer was angry and in his anger he blurted—‘what you say is correct, but today you have been caught along with these birds that have eaten all my seeds. So you are also their friend. And, since you have come with them you too need to face the punishment along with them.’

    The moral of the story is: a person is known by the company he keeps. People who are good but stay with bad people are also subjected to punishment and disgrace. By accompanying the miscreant birds even dutiful crane got trapped and had to pay the price.

***

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 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)

*****

 

 

 

 

 

CASUAL CAUSERIE- MY HOME ALONG THE COUNTRYSIDE

Copyright@shravancharitymission

123

By Aolla Tripathi

The cock would crow in the nearby village almost at the stroke of dawn. The chatter and chirping of the birds wafted in the air, as I would linger on my bed a little longer, listening to it for some time. There is almost a languid laziness about the whole morning scene. I would get up yawning, bleary eyed. The footfalls of the cowherd, approaching, can be clearly heard. It is mingled with the jingle of the tiny bells around the neck of the cattle. The herd is almost always accompanied by a village urchin, the nominal ‘cowboy, just the antithesis of the gun slinging gunfighter of ‘ O.K. CORRAL ‘. All he has on his body is a nicker, a nondescript stick and a flute in his hand. Swarthy, he looks unruffled and happy.
The boy would ride a buffalo or rather recline on its massive back as the herd made its way to the green countryside a little beyond our house. The cattle spread out and settle down on the verdant pasture. The whole scene affords a blissful quiet occasionally broken by the lowing of a cow or the laboured chug of a passing train clambering up a gradient. The tracks are bare and empty with no nocturnal traffic. Where do they vanish at night has always been a mystery to me much as what the ‘cowboy’ eats during his long sojourns with his cattle.
It has rained last night. The trees are still dripping and the sun is trying to break out of a leaden haze. Our good friend ‘Gungadin’ appears once more with his merry band and heads straight to the Watch Tower which has always remained unmanned, why, a riddle as tortuous as the ‘Riddle of the Sphinx”. Though intended for Security it is only poetic justice that the young ‘cowboys’ use it to keep watch over their cattle. Well, this tower serves them during the rains. On a clear sunny day they would be rather on the sleepy meadows without a care in the world. It is not long before the strains of a folk song are audible. The little group is singing. The difficult rhythm of the folk song is soon abandoned; the easier ‘Filmi’ songs are tried out. Mom is up in arms against my slow motion cameo to the morning chores. I remind her it is a holiday. I hurry with my rituals and chores while sneaking a peek at them. This entire rustic scene is soothing and gives a restful continuity to my life. Years back life was not so humdrum. There was so much variety, so much innocent pleasure: Opening the coop and feeding the chickens, fetching water from a nearby spring, stealthily eating berries and oranges from the fenced orchard. Then there would be all the time in the world to laze around near the spring watching the seasonal brook going down in all its eddies and whirls. The water used to be surprisingly warm in the mornings. We wended our way over the ridges and ledges and ere long we were at the water point.  The noisy torrent of the stream would add to the din of our impromptu singing. The ‘soprano’ would take up a new piece as suddenly he would discard a new one. Alto, tenor, bass and all would join in the fun. While all this went on someone was sure to filch our meager repast. Oh! It was great fun. All the magic of youth and joy of life was there. I wonder if you have tried filling water in a bamboo stump. It is tricky- especially if you are collecting from a stream. Having apparently filled the thing and congratulated yourself for doing a good days work, you were more likely to find the ‘container’ less than half full on return home.
But it was the small fishing trips with my dad I enjoyed most. We would, for hours by the swimming pool, be waiting for ‘Godot’, as it were. Noise was forbidden. A tongue-lashing was in store if I made the slightest sound. There would be sudden ripple, a gentle tug on the fishing line amidst a flurry of movements up would emerge the silvery. The anglers are a queer lot. I have known some who would spend a whole day waiting for a catch. Catching fresh water prawns is another thrilling corollary, meant for the experts, I believe.
My mother, one of those traditional stay-at-homes would discourage these outings and would rather that I helped her out at home. I used to sneak out on some pretext or the other. Over the hills and dales and down the vale –that is how I used to love it-a far cry from the concrete jungles where I live now.

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