Tag Archives: ganga




    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







reality truth

    The spiritual Indian city of Kashi is located on the holy banks of river Ganges where an able ruler once ruled. His court was blessed by many renowned scholars who used to have big discussions and debates on ‘truth.’ And in the court, it was inscribed in golden letters, ‘In pursuit of truth.’

    One morning a Yogi came to the court and suggested to the ruler, to change the inscription in gold to, ‘In pursuit of reality’ instead of ‘in pursuit of truth.’ And upon hearing this all the scholars in the court of the ruler were rather startled.

    To convince the ruler he said, ‘Truth is not like reality. Truth is what we believe in, but reality is the state of things as they actually exist.’ And to prove his point he called for some barrels and got it filled with oil, and on a moonlit night he got the barrels placed in an open field where the reflection of moon was very clearly visible in each barrel of oil.

    And then the Yogi said, ‘dear friends when you see the reflection of the moon in these barrels you feel there are so many moons, but when you look up to the sky you come to know of the reality, that there is only one moon.

    In the same manner if we want we can get so many things made out of wood, but we are well abreast of the fact that all these are made of wood and the wood is the same. In the same manner when you’ll empty the barrels you’ll come to know the moons have vanished but the real moon atop remains.

    So also, when the furniture breaks into pieces various furniture items will lose their identity but the identity of wood remains. In the same manner truth might be linked to the environment and times but reality is quite different from all this.

    And that is why our efforts and inscription should be in accordance to the directive, ‘In search of reality.’ And every scholar in the court agreed with the logic of the Yogi and the inscription accordingly was changed to, ‘In search of reality.’

    After sometime another Yogi came and said, ‘Dear friends there may be a difference between truth and reality but truth has its own importance as we see so many moons in barrels filled with oil so we cannot condone the truth, even when we know that the moon is one. In the same manner we cannot overlook the reality and status of various things with various names. In reality you all are either male or female, but you cannot overlook the fact that you have a name too. The ultimate and complete face of truth is the reality and reality is witnessed in various forms of individual truths.

    And that is why my suggestion is to change the inscription to, ‘in pursuit of truth and reality’ to which every scholar gave his approval. But the change of inscription did not last for long as after a while another Yogi came who wanted to change the inscription again. He said, ‘truth cannot become truth unless it is linked to reality.’ He further said, ‘In all the barrels of oil  the reflection  of moon is linked to one such reality that the moon exists, and had the moon not existed its reflection too would not have been there. In the same manner the wooden furniture is linked to its basic raw material—wood. And. you will have to agree that truth in any form is always connected to the reality and you also can reach the substance if you change the inscription to ‘the relation of truth with reality.’

    All scholars had felt the power of real truth in what the yogi had said and therefore the inscription was further changed as per him. But while doing so the ruler felt there is a very thin line between reality and truth, where in life a reality cannot be denied and truth cannot be created without reality. 


Posted by Kamlesh Tripathi




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By Kamlesh Tripathi

ganga guilt heaven

    When I was young. My maternal Granny often used to remind me as an endearing edict. That when I die, take my mortal remains to the banks of river Ganga (Ganges) for cremation, considered, the ultimate holy grail. To the splendorous gateway of heaven, in Hindus. But I was not sure. If she ever realised, whether a ten year old kid understood, what she meant. Surely, I had no idea, of what a ‘cremation’ on the banks of river Ganga meant, until one day. I actually saw a dead body being cremated, while I was crossing river Ganga, at Kanpur in a train. And, that shook me as a teen.

    My Mom, was her only issue. So, she understood her mother’s writhing trauma. That was encased in her subconscious, now for ages. And she often hovered around her. Sensing, Granny might repeat her request for Ganga, at the pangs of life beyond death.

    For me, life continued as usual and with that my meandering rigmarole. In the guise of school, college, career and then raising a family. But, all this, didn’t deter her from placing her request, whenever she had an opportunity. And, as life flew. One day I lost my Mom, and with that Granny’s infrequent requests, became more like frequent holy warnings—that she be taken to the banks of river Ganga.

    But, in the drift of life. For quite some time, I was posted away from my hometown. During that period, whenever I spoke to her. I did assure her a cremation on the banks of holy river Ganga. But when the destined moment came unannounced. I could not reach on time, and she was cremated on the banks of river Gomti in Lucknow. About eighty km before the banks of river Ganga.

    That gave me a feel of intense guilt that continued lifelong. As if, between Gomti and Ganga, she had lost the battle because of me.

    Ever since then years have passed. But she hasn’t complained to me. My guilt says she couldn’t reach heaven. Where my heart says, she smiles at me from heaven.

    And today. I am returning from the banks of river Ganga. Where, I came to  tide over my guilt. To request Holy Ganga, if not already, take her to heaven even now. And to offer my lifetime apologies to her. From the serene surroundings of holy Ganga.  But I guess I came quite late. Because now even I have started thinking of the holy Ganga.

    There are a few things that are non-negotiable in life: one happens to be death.