Tag Archives: children




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

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

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

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

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

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

By Kamlesh Tripathi







       The sneaking distance … dooriyan had germinated long ago. But it had begun to flower only now. I wasn’t aware of it nor was my God. And there weren’t any signs of it either. Not even a whoosh of an air. Even when the roots beneath may have been screaming about it, for a long time now. In the hope of a bright future perhaps, the venom was held back, for far too long. So, on the face of it there wasn’t even a chisel of hate but no one knew what was brewing inside.

    He had parted long ago. Shama then, was young. And what followed was a serpentine struggle, all the way to get her children up to the root and wings in the hurricane of life. Affluence had eluded her and miseries had surrounded her. Where, I had sneaked in as her isthmus between the devil and the deep blue sea that is the horrid present and the unseen and unknown future. She kept accepting in warm grace, things I was doing for her and feigned happiness all the while in return. But the tempest was only building in her. Perhaps, she was angry with her own destiny and the person who had written it but she couldn’t have challenged him. The damning offshoots of which, she had even passed it on to her children for the final onslaught that was still to come.

    Uneasy years had flown by and her challenges had somewhat leveled. Life was beginning to smile at her again as she had almost passed the upstream. But hatred is the steepest upstream they say. And all throughout her overwhelming jinx I thought I was her steersman but she had carved me as the conman.

    For all the unpleasant things that had ripped her life, she now wanted a villain to blame squarely and that was me. Perhaps, she was blindfolded when she encountered destiny and later thought it was just another me. She delighted in praising select others for all the good things that had happened in her life and for the incorrigible turmoil and shaky vicissitudes it was me. She walked around with upbraided vanity claiming all the ancestry as she gradually passed the lethal baton to her restless children who were breathing fire.

    Time had flown in an unsurprising gush. There were murmurs one day that the villain too had parted or was he done away with. No one knew. But there were smiles and the wicked smiles all around. She had sighed in ecstasy after an eon. It was all bright and beautiful around her. As, she, had finally attained complete, unquestionable ancestry. The villain had finally gone.

    Ceremoniously her time kept ticking and with that her ambitions kept upgrading until one day Shama saw the first spectre of another villain in her life and this time it was her own grown up child.

posted by Kamlesh Tripathi







    Moms are special. They are never too old for their children. They continue to bless. Even more special are their memories, when they are gone. That keeps rocking you, all your life. Look after her as long as she’s alive. As beyond that it is only sad remembrance. Few lines in her honour.



Years don’t distort,

Time doesn’t warp,

Lifetime doesn’t blot,

Mother’s priceless memories,

 Always remains atop.


Even when I know you’re not there,

Yet there is always something,

 That tells me,

You’re somewhere here and there,

Along my life and for my care.


In the measure of time,

You carried me up to nine,

Then cradled me with all the rhymes,

You fed me to grind,

And taught me to shine.


My maiden friend,

The first to comprehend,

My lifelong mentor,

And evergreen centre.


In the shackles of time

You were always mine,

But when shackles unshackled,

God took you away in no time.


And since you’ve gone

Life is bereft of umpteen charms,

But the soul connect is still alive,

That revives the vibes

And that’s how life thrives.


Of all you taught me,

Each virtue is still refreshed,

I May have forgotten school,

But you’re still afresh.


As time passes,

More of it comes along,

Just as your loving memories,

That keeps coming on and on.


Ma you’ll never fade,

You’ll always shine like the jade,

As long as I live,

And even beyond my days.




By Kamlesh Tripathi


    “Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied.”—Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice.

    It is indeed difficult to even imagine how much these young kids suffer. Yet they put up a brave face. They don’t complain of pain, and require no one’s pity.

Recently, we visited these brave kids in a hospital. They are diagnosed of cancer. All are a bundle of joy. But are oblivious of what they suffer from. They smile more than us. And, that is where they put us to shame, when it comes to raw guts. We handed over our contribution in the form of cheques, to all the three Parents, of these bravehearts.


My eyes went moist. When, I saw young baby boy Rihan. Who is five and suffers from NHL (Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma). He has been fighting cancer for the last six months. His father who works as a compounder has already spent more than two lac on his treatment. His income as told to us is around ten to twelve thousand per month. We wish Rihan all the best. And compliment his Parents for taking up this brave fight against cancer.


Garv Chaudhury, baby boy, age two years, was the second child, whom we met from Bulandshahr. He appeared every bit a joy. He was fast asleep when his mother tickled him to meet us. Surprisingly, he didn’t wake up crying. On the contrary he got up staring at us. He suffers from Pre-B ALL (High Risk). We wish him all the very best by praying to God Almighty. We would also like to compliment his father who is a marginal farmer and his mother who is a housewife in taking up this arduous fight against cancer. We wish them the best.


Next, we met Ayesha, a bright girl in her teens from Jaipur. Her father is self-employed and runs a workshop. His monthly income is around ten thousand. Ayesha is fighting cancer for the last one year and is diagnosed of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. We wish her all the best in her fight against cancer. We also wish her Parents the very best in taking up the brave fight.

We all are so busy with our daily lives that we rarely think of such unfortunate and poor children who suffer from cancer. Should you want to contribute for the cause the account details are as given below.

Name of Account: Shravan Charity Mission

Bank of India account no: (680510110004635)

IFSC code: BKID0006805






By Kamlesh Tripathi

FLAMBOYANT parents student 2 student simple

There were two college students who stayed in the same society. They both were in class XII, but in different colleges, and they both had working parents. And one out of them was very flamboyant, just like his parents, who only believed in telling the world how well they were doing, and even more, how well their child was doing in college. And, they had nursed, big ambitions, that their child will qualify into the best of professional colleges, from where no dream will be impossible.

The other student was rather subdued, again like his parents, and used to spend, a lot of time, in understanding the merit and sweat required to get into a professional course through competition, vis-a-vis his own capabilities.

And after clearing class XII exams, the subdued student took to the first professional course that he could qualify in, and went his way, while the flamboyant student decided to pursue higher and tougher ambitions based on his parent’s advice and his own overconfidence.

Some years had passed when the subdued student after completing his professional degree had taken up a job in a midsize company, while the flamboyant student along with his parents was still busy making lofty plans of conquering the world for himself.

He kept trying for the best institutes when he couldn’t get into average ones. He became very selective on what he wanted to do, without ever assessing his own capabilities. And a day came when he was neither in any professional college nor in a job, whereas the subdued student had completed half a decade of service and was now a manager in a big company.

Children are like books. And unless you read the book end-to-end, you will neither understand the narration, plot, nor the end of the book. Many parents are very good at reading only the first chapter of their child’s book and that too again and again, and that alone satisfies them beyond compare. They do not take the trouble of reading their child’s book end-to-end. And this creates a lot of dissonance between what a child can do and what he is told to do.

And, mind you the book, on its own, will never come and tell you, the narration, plot and the end. On the contrary you will have to make an effort to read it.

And to know your child read the complete book; read all the chapters and that will give a very clear view of his liking, desires, aspirations and capabilities vis-a-vis available opportunities.

And the book of your child is as interesting as any other best-seller you might be reading now. So, let it just not lie, in your library. Pick it up and read it now. And I’m sure once you go through it you’ll feel like reading it again and again, and from time to time.




By Kamlesh Tripathi

concern poverty warmth

    A poor and elderly couple, without fail used to visit a small railway station of a small town every day in the morning and evening. There, they used to wait for a particular passenger train. That used to arrive at six in the morning. The same train used to return at seven in the evening. Where, again they used to wait for its arrival. And when the train used to leave. They used to return to their home empty handed.

    But in the five minutes that the train halted. The couple used to go in opposite directions. One towards the engine and the other towards the end of the train. As if looking for someone, and often they used to call out a particular name.

    In the same platform there was a tea vendor. Who, had his tea stall there, for many years. He used to light his gas stove at 6 in the morning to make tea. His first customers used to be out of the same passenger train. For which this elderly couple used to come and wait each morning and evening.

    The tea vendor used to glimpse the couple quite attentively each day. Even while doing his brisk business. The passenger train was rarely late. And after midnight it used to be the first train in the morning.

    One morning when the train arrived as usual. The elderly couple went in opposite directions, calling out the same name. But as the train trickled out of the platform. They came and sat near the staircase trying to catch their breath.

    The tea vendor who used to watch them from a distance each day could not hold his inquisition today. He walked up to the elderly couple and asked,

    ‘I have being watching you both, coming to this platform, without fail, for years. What do you come here for? Are you looking for someone?’ He asked in a concerned tone.

    The couple looked at each other and the elderly man in a hesitant and guilty tone said,

    ‘Babuji some fifteen years back. In the same passenger train. We had left behind, three of our children, because we didn’t have money to feed them. So we come here looking for them. We shout for the elder one. Who was six then. Thinking he will remember his name and respond. But till date we have not met with any success.’

    This is poverty at its worst. It is a true story. In life we often get upset over minor things, even when God has given us everything. Remember, destiny can be extremely kind to some, and extremely harsh to others. So thank God, for each iota of goodness that you have in your life.




By Kamlesh Tripathi

Once again in the pursuit of smiles on the two young faces we visited Apollo hospital and handed over two cheques to the Parents/Elders of these children for cancer treatment. We spoke to them for a while. May God bless them.


  1. Master Tarif, Age 12 is from the family of farmers. He doesn’t have a father and his treatment is being taken care of by Aas Mohammed his uncle who is a marginal farmer with very low income from Hayana. He is suffering from Brain Tumour. We wish Master Tarif all the  the best in life.   20150521_132626
  2. Miss Mehak Misra, age 9 is suffering from CNS Lymphoma. Her father works for a private job. Mehmak is a bright student and wants to do great things in life. We wish Mehak the very best in life.

A small contribution from you can change the lives of these poor Unfortunate children:

For net transfer:

  1. Name of account: ‘Shravan Charity Mission’

Bank of India account no: (680510110004635)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

  1. Name of account: ‘Shravan Charity Mission’

HDFC account no: (04801450000140)

IFSC Code: HDFC0000480

You could also send us a cheque in favour of ‘Shravan Charity Mission’ at the following address:

Shravan Charity Mission, c/o Mr Kamlesh Tripathi, Arihant Ambience, Sapphire-002, Crossings Republik, Ghaziabad-201009

our e-mail id is : shravancharitymission@gmail.com