Tag Archives: god

SHORT STORY: JOB OF GOD

July 23, 2015ARTICLE SPIRITUAL, casual causerie, causerie, column, short story, snippet, spiritual, spiritual article, story, vignettearrogance, bureucrats, citizenry, god, humble, humility, job, job of God, karma, king, kingdom, netas, politician, prime minister, ruler, short story, spiritual, story, subject, universe, vvipracismshravancharitymission

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Long time ago there lived a king, who was habitually righteous but extremely arrogant. One day, he called his Prime Minister and said,

‘I have a doubt that keeps bothering me. As you know. In this universe everyone has a job to do. Just like the king, who is supposed to rule. A soldier’s job is to fight, a trader is supposed to trade. A teacher is supposed to teach, a preacher is supposed to preach and even the rest of the citizenry have prescribed jobs to do.

That is the law of the universe. In the same manner. The person who runs this universe. Also must be having a definite job to do. About, which, I know nothing. So please tell me what is the job of the person who runs the universe. That is the job of God.’

Prime Minister had no ready answer. To this very tricky query of the king. As no one had ever asked him a question like this. But he tried to deflect the king’s attention by saying.

‘Your Majesty! No one has an answer for this very intelligent question. Neither, it is mentioned in any book—as the job of God.’ He then halted for a few moments. But, since, he was an extremely cunning person he thought for an instant and added, ‘Nevertheless, your question is quite valid. As this question came to my mind also and that too several times. But since my job was to advise you to help you run the administration. I didn’t bother to ask. And these are spiritual issues. Where, I think the Raj-Purohit (Chief-Priest) will be in a better position to give an apt answer.’

After expressing his views. He strategically left the place immediately. Leaving the entire responsibility of answering the question on the shoulders of the Raj-Purohit.

When the king posed the same question to Raj-Purohit. He too got bewildered, as no one had ever asked him such a question. Because, no one knew what the exact job of God was. And everyone, only knew to the extent they had read in the books. Even in the books there was no separate information about God’s job responsibility.

But the King specifically wanted an answer to his question. Raj-Purohit couldn’t have dared to offend the King, so he sought a week’s time.

King agreed and said, ‘okay, but I need a comprehensive reply to my question.’ Raj-Purohit went home. In the next one week he went to all the libraries in the kingdom and went through all the books that he could lay his hands on. But, no where, he could get a comprehensive answer to this question.

By the end of the week he was mentally quite exhausted. So he went out of the city and sat under a tree and started thinking. How will he show his face to the King tomorrow, or should he leave the kingdom and flee.

One shepherd boy who was grazing his sheep nearby. Saw the Raj-Purohit sitting there in a pensive mood and recognised him. He asked, ‘sir, why are you looking so sad?’ Raj-Purohit replied, ‘child you please do your work, as I have some spiritual task to handle.’

But, when the child assertively asked again. Raj-Purohit narrated his problem. Knowing full well, the boy will not be able to solve his problem. But the child was smart. He said.

‘Raj-Purohit ji, if you are troubled only because of this small question. Then please go home and relax. Tell the King, this shepherd boy knows the answer to his question.’

Upon hearing this. The Raj-Purohit was stunned. Because, even the most renowned scholars of the kingdom didn’t know the answer to this question. He pleaded to the boy to let him know the answer. But the child insisted. He alone, would tell the king. The answer to question.

This relaxed him a little bit when he left for his home. Next day when he reached the King’s court. The king repeated his question and with great amount of eagerness and waited for the answer. But was flabbergasted to hear. That the answer to his question was available with a shepherd boy. He immediately ordered for the child to be there. The boy arrived at the King’s court in great enthusiasm.

When, everyone looked at him with a great amount of disgust. And also waited for the valuable words to come out of his mouth. The king asked, ‘O shepherd boy! Do you know the answer to my question. That even the renowned scholars sitting in my court don’t know? So tell me all that you know about the subject?’

The shepherd boy hesitated for some moments and then said, ‘Your Majesty! Before, I answer your question. I wish. I be given the right kind of seat to sit. Because, as far as this query is concerned. You are the student and I’m the teacher. So, I’ll provide you with that knowledge. In principle the seat of the teacher should be higher than that of the student. But such is not the case here.’

Upon hearing this, everyone started whispering in an appreciative manner, about the boy. The King also felt some sense is his statement. After a few moments the King vacated his throne and requested the shepherd boy to occupy it After which he eagerly was waiting for the answer, while looking at him.

But the boy after sitting on the throne went quiet. He started enjoying the great feel, while perched on it. The King got restless and in an arrogant tone he shouted. ‘Hey you child. Will you answer now. What is the job of God?’ The boy looked at the King and peacefully asked, ‘what answer?’ and on hearing this. All those present in the King’s court were stunned. The boy then said, ‘the job of God is to put down the arrogant and lift the humble.’

This story is one out of the thousand stories of Puran (mythological scriptures). That is still relevant even today. Just as, it was in those days.

by Kamlesh Tripathi

***

We are an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. If you wish you could contribute for the cause. The bank details are below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

*****

SHORT STORY: GUILT

July 19, 2015ARTICLE SPIRITUAL, casual causerie, causerie, column, short story, snippet, spiritual, storydestiny, faith, ganga, god, gomti, granny, guilt, holy, kanpur, karma, lifetime, Lucknow, mother, promise, short story, spiritual, storyshravancharitymission

By Kamlesh Tripathi

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.

*****

SHORT STORY: DESTINY by DEFAULT

July 17, 2015short story, storycareless, destiny, faith, god, hillstation, hyper child, karma, life, lifetime, meticulous, midway, naughty child, short story, spiritual, storyshravancharitymission

Many years ago, Rishi a friend of mine was returning from a hill-station with his newly married wife, after his honeymoon. They were in a shared jeep—the old one, with a superstructure and canvass top having two longitudinal seats at the rear, facing each other along the length of the vehicle.

As all hill routes of those times. It was an uncomfortable journey, especially because of the narrow and single winding road, and that too with a plethora of hair-pin bends, and many of them, even without railings. It was drizzling low key that had shortened the visibility. But it appeared as if, both, the vehicle and the driver were not solely depending on visibility alone to course through, and were even delving some bit on their day-to-day, hands-on experience of the road.

In all, there were eleven people in the vehicle. Out of which three were in the front, that included, the driver, Rishi and his wife. Seven were behind. Out of which six were sitting on the longitudinal seats. Three on either side. they were two couples and two men. and last but not the least was a half standing, half sitting, restless, uncomfortable and a noisy kid of around ten to twelve years of age.

Even when the jeep was meandering down the road leaving everyone fatigued, giddy and somewhat tired the untiring kid was all over the jeep trying to reach up to the driver, to fiddle the gear lever and the steering wheel, and that was irritating the driver.

The parents of the kid appeared quite bindaas, and were not even attempting to calm their hyper-child.

After about fifteen minutes the jeep halted at the midway, to the railway station, which was a two hour drive from the hill-station.

Most cafeterias and dhabas were located within a span of about hundred metres on the straight road passing the midway, after which the road winded to an immediate right, where on one side you had climbing hills and on the other side a dangerous fall of about a thousand feet, where there were no railings. The roadside along the straight road was crowded with no space to park the car. So, the jeep driver took the vehicle closer to the immediate right and parked it there, which was quite close to the point where there were no railings in almost a routine fashion. He announced a stop of fifteen minutes that was quite sufficient to freshen up, followed by a cup of tea and some hot snacks that sounded awesome in the beautiful surroundings.

Everyone got off the vehicle except the lady in the rear seat who preferred to sleep, most likely on account of giddiness that had set in her, and giving her company was her middle aged husband.

The naughty kid was the first to finish his snacks, and soon came and sat in the vehicle without his parents. Soon from the rear seat he jumped over to the front seat and started swirling his hands on the steering wheel.

The man behind mildly warned him to return to his seat but that fell on deaf ears. Soon the kid started enjoying the steering wheel when his hands reached the gear lever, and unknowingly his foot to the clutch pedal, and with that the jeep got into neutral mode and slowly started rolling. The man behind realised what had happened, and so, he jumped and ran towards the dhaba to call the driver, perhaps he didn’t know driving himself. His wife was still asleep in the jeep.

The kid was still unaware of what had happened and about the ensuing danger. And as the vehicle slowly moved he started enjoying the feel of the vehicle even more as the steering felt light. The vehicle was now heading towards the fall.

Upon hearing the shout the driver edged out of the dhaba and with grim eyes saw his fortune rolling towards the steep fall. He darted and jumped inside trying to push the kid aside to stop the vehicle, but by then it was too late as the front wheels of the jeep had already waddled off the road, where it overhung for some moments and off it went taking the unlucky trio along with it. All the three had died in the mishap— The kid, the driver and the lady behind.

We often blame destiny for whatever goes wrong in our lives. But in this case wasn’t it a case of destiny by default?

For why were the parents of the kid so unconcerned about their hyper-child? In that one hour of journey they never reprimanded the child even once. Not even, when, he was irritating the driver while driving. And above all, they let the child go alone, to the vehicle parked alongside a dangerous fall. Therefore, all such parents who don’t reprimand their children at the initial stages of life need to introspect about the ghastly consequences they might have to face later on.

The middle aged husband realising the danger did not attempt to save his wife first, instead he thought of saving all— the kid, his wife and even the vehicle but in the process could save nothing. So should it be, help yourself first?

The driver knew about the hyper-child, yet he parked the jeep close to a dangerous point in all casualness. And he could have stayed away from the vehicle in those dying moments yet he pounced on it. So think before you jump.

By Kamlesh Tripathi

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

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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)

*****

POETRY: TAKEN FOR GRANTED

July 15, 2015poem, POETRYfire in belly, god, granted, karma, lifetime, poem, poetry, spirit, spiritual, taken for granted, values, virtuesshravancharitymission

By Kamlesh Tripathi

TAKEN FOR GRANTED

God what I wanted you never granted,

And what I didn’t you often granted,

You killed my wishes and pooped my desires,

And left me crying in the middle of fire.

In my tryst with destiny,

How much you mattered,

When I thought of you every moment,

As my sole benefactor.

But in recent times My God,

You riddled and raddled,

At all my grants,

And what makes me wonder,

Is why you surrendered?

Lament not my son,

For I see what you can’t see,

And I don’t want to see what you see,

And that brings about the mystery.

I granted what was good for you,

I granted what was right for you,

I granted what was required for you,

And I granted what you couldn’t see,

But I could see.

I admired the unassuming in you,

I admired the toil in you,

I admired the fire in you,

And so I kept granting you,

Until one day I realised,

Your fire was waning,

Your toil was receding,

And the unassuming in you, was now assuming,

And so I pulled my hands,

For make no mistake my child,

What is good for all is granted,

And what is good for you alone may not be granted,

But remember my child nothing shall be granted,

If you start taking things for granted.

***

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)

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)

*****

SHORT POEM BY A CHILD CANCER PATIENT: IN THE LAP OF GOD

July 9, 2015beautiful lines, poem, POETRY, quote, quotes and lines, spiritualcancer, child, child cancer, destiny, god, health, heaven, karma, oncology, poem, poetry, poor, sickness, song, sufferingshravancharitymission

IN THE LAP OF GOD

What was my wrong?

That you took away my song,

For when I opened my eyes,

I was in severe bites.

You taught me a lesson,

By plaguing me with cancer,

But I had not harmed anyone,

So why the torture?

As a child,

I had no devious past,

Yet you stepped on my present,

And took away my craft.

They call you kind,

They call you a forgiver,

Synonym for mercy,

But you left me in heresy.

Fear not my child,

For I’m with you every while,

And you are not alone,

In this vast world of mine.

For you are special,

In life’s battle,

And you are my messenger,

And you are my harbinger.

You puzzled me God,

You scared me God,

But after talking to you,

I am at peace God,

For I now know,

I am in your lap God.

***

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

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

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)

*****

POETRY: BAD TIMES A FRIEND OF ALL TIMES

July 7, 2015beautiful lines, column, poem, POETRY, snippet, Uncategorized, versesaeon, bad, bad times, death, elitist, era, friends, god, good, good times, lesson, life, lifetime, poem, poetry, rhymes, shrine, slimy times, teaching, timeshravancharitymission

Copyright@shravancharitymission

BAD TIMES A FRIEND OF ALL TIMES

Pricey and snobby was good times,

Where bad times was a friend of all times,

Choosy and selective was good times,

When cheaply available was bad times.

*

In the skit of life,

Only few had the privilege of good times,

Rest remained in the domain of bad times,

Quite easily the friend of all times.

*

In life where one longs for good times,

Bad time comes uninvited,

Good times chooses where to go,

But bad times hovers every pore.

*

Good times remains a friend of the few,

Where bad times befriends every new,

Good times is elitist,

Where bad times is populist.

*

And in the cage of times,

Only few are having a good time,

And most in general bad times,

That makes me ask,

Who invented these slimy times,

Doesn’t look like the work of a shrine,

*

But does God work through times,

Or time works through God,

The question remains unanswered,

Over a long period of time.

*

Bad times is more laborious than good times,

And it also teaches the lessons of life,

While good times teaches only lessons of rhyme,

And it all happens in the ambit of caged time.

*

And in the frequents of life,

I have dealt more with the wrath of bad times,

Than the rhymes of good times,

And so to me bad times is a friend of all times.

*

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

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

By Kamlesh Tripathi

BAD TIMES A FRIEND OF ALL TIMES

PRICEY AND SNOBBY WAS GOOD TIMES,

WHEN BAD TIMES WAS A FRIEND OF ALL TIMES,

CHOOSY AND SELECTIVE WAS GOOD TIMES,

WHEN CHEAPLY AVAILABLE WAS BAD TIMES.

IN THE SKIT OF LIFE,

FEW HAD THE PRIVILEGE OF GOOD TIMES,

REST REMAINED IN THE DOMAIN OF BAD TIMES,

QUITE EASILY A FRIEND OF ALL TIMES.

WHERE ONE LONGS FOR GOOD TIMES,

BAD TIME COMES UNINVITED,

GOOD TIMES CHOOSES WHERE TO GO,

BUT BAD TIMES HOVERS EVERY PORE.

GOOD TIMES IS A FRIEND OF THE FEW,

WHERE BAD TIMES IS A FRIEND OF MANY,

GOOD TIMES IS ELITIST,

WHERE BAD TIMES IS POPULIST.

AND IN THE CAGE OF TIMES,

ONLY FEW ARE HAVING A GOOD TIME,

AND IN GENERAL BAD TIMES,

AND THAT MAKES ME ASK,

WHO INVENTED THESE SLIMY TIMES,

DOESN’T LOOK LIKE A WORK OF…

View original post 91 more words

POETRY: BAD TIMES A FRIEND OF ALL TIMES

July 7, 2015Uncategorizedbad times, devil, fear, god, god fearing, good times, heaven hell, lifetime, poem, poetry, shrine, spiritual, super time, timeshravancharitymission

BAD TIMES A FRIEND OF ALL TIMES

Pricey and snobby was good times,

Where bad times was a friend of all times,

Choosy and selective was good times,

When cheaply available was bad times.

In the skit of life,

Only few had the privilege of good times,

Rest remained in the domain of bad times,

Quite easily the friend of all times.

In life where one longs for good times,

Bad time comes uninvited,

Good times chooses where to go,

But bad times hovers every pore.

Good times remains a friend of the few,

Where bad times befriends every new,

Good times is elitist,

Where bad times is populist.

And in the cage of times,

Only few are having a good time,

And most in general bad times,

That makes me ask,

Who invented these slimy times,

Doesn’t look like the work of a shrine,

But does God work through times,

Or time works through God,

The question remains unanswered,

Over a long period of time.

Bad times is more laborious than good times,

And it also teaches the lessons of life,

While good times teaches only lessons of rhyme,

And it all happens in the ambit of caged time.

And in the frequents of life,

I have dealt more with the wrath of bad times,

Than the rhymes of good times,

And so to me bad times is a friend of all times.

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

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: REDISCOVER LIFE

June 29, 2015ARTICLE SPIRITUAL, articles, casual causerie, causerie, column, short story, snippet, spiritual, spiritual article, story, Uncategorizeddeath, fear of death, god, karmas, knowledge, life, lifetime, puran, rediscover life, shravan charity mission, spiritual, vedas, veds, virtues, wisdomshravancharitymission

Once upon a time there live a Mahatma in a small town, whom, many people from in and around the area visited for spiritual knowledge. One day a person who was particularly known for his anger and cruelty came up to him and said, ‘Your holiness, my mind is always filled with bad and dirty thoughts that prompts me to do wrong things. So, can you please help me keep away from these dirty thoughts and can you also help me acquire some spiritual knowledge?

Mahatama, thought for a while and then said, ‘son, before I pass on any spiritual knowledge or message of peace to you I want to caution you, that you’ll die within a month.’

Upon hearing this, the man got a shock of his lifetime. Fear of death almost gripped his mind immediately. He hurriedly went across to his wife and said, ‘I have troubled you a lot in the past but now I want to correct my mistakes. Please forgive me, because as per holy predictions I’m going to die within a month. Therefore I now want to live with you peacefully.’ Then he went to his kids, parents, relatives, friends and neighbours, and apologized to everyone and started living with them peacefully.

The change in the state of his mind had changed his behaviour in a dramatic way. Everyone, then reciprocated to his affection with cordiality and the whole ambience was filled with positivity. But the man had one, regret; that he is going to die within a month.

On the last day of the month Mahatma came to him, and asked about the experience. He replied, ‘Guru ji my mind is always filled with the thought of death, and that has changed the state of my mind to a great extent. Now people love me, and my mind is completely at peace, but I have only one worry and that is I’m going to die now.’

Mahatma smiled and said, ‘the very thought of death within a month has changed you for good, and everywhere around you, there is peace, love and harmony. We all know life is impermanent and through our karmas we can spread a lot of happiness, yet we don’t. You are not going to die soon, but don’t let these beautiful thoughts ever die in you as they have benefitted you so much. Stay happily with everyone. And live in the present, as that is the supreme spiritual knowledge.’

Most problems of our life, stems, from our belief that we are going to live for a very long time, even when, every now and then we see death all around us.

Posted 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

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: GOD HELPS THOSE WHO HELP THEMSELVES

June 27, 2015ARTICLE SPIRITUAL, beautiful lines, column, short story, snippet, spiritual, spiritual article, story, Uncategorizeddestiny, faith, god, god helps those who help themselves, goodness, holy scripts, karma, kindness, mahatma, mythology, puran, purans, religion, river, short story, spiritual, vedas, virtueshravancharitymission

In primitive times there was a Mahatma who lived in a village located on the banks of a river. Where, many villagers, from in and around and even far off places used to come to him for help and advice.

One day a moorkh (simpleton) from the nearby village came to the Mahatma and started weeping. And, upon Mahatma’s enquiring about the cause he replied, ‘Guruvar, people in my village are very bad, they always misbehave with me. So what should I do to protect myself from such rogues. Please advice to help me out.’

Mahatma consoled him and politely said, ‘don’t you worry and have confidence in God, for he will set everything right.’ And upon hearing this, the moorkh was happy and soon he left for his home.

After a few months there were severe floods in the village when everyone started running helter-skelter to save themselves, but the moorkh was cool. He just climbed the roof of his house and started praying to God. And when the flood water started touching the roof a kind person spotted him and extended his hand to help him. But he refused to hold his hand and said, ‘I don’t trust you but I’m confident God will help me.’

In the meanwhile the flood waters had climbed further and reached up to his neck and seeing this, some people perched in a passing boat offered to help, by asking him to jump but he again refused and said, ‘I only trust God.’

After sometime he started drowning, when some kind people finally rescued him. They helped him back to consciousness. But the moorkh instead of thanking them, went up to the Mahatma and started complaining, ‘you had asked me to have faith in God, but this tip of yours nearly killed me, for he never came forward to help me.’

Mahatama smiled at him and sweetly said, ‘Hey you simple soul, in response to your prayers only these people and the boat were sent to you, to save you. But you refused to take any help. Even then God almighty who wishes and desires everyones welfare, to save you, sent some kind people, otherwise by now you would have been dead.’ But Mahatma was not finished as yet when he further sermonized, ‘always remember in response to your earnest prayers God will not come and do your “karma” for you. He has given you brains and you need use it.’

This story is from Puran (Hindu holy script) and conveys a simple message–“God helps those who help themselves.”

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By Kamlesh Tripathi

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SHORT STORY: DIVINE ALIGNMENT

June 20, 2015ARTICLE SPIRITUAL, casual causerie, causerie, column, short article, short story, snippet, spiritual, spiritual article, story, Uncategorizedchristian, death, destiny, divine, faridabad, gita, god, Granth sahab, gurudwara, Hindu, holy, jew, life, muslim, parsi, sikh, spiritual, Sukhwinder, tragedies, tragedyshravancharitymission

Today, once again, early in the morning I was woken up by a phone call from Sukhwinder Singh. He is a Granthi in a Gurudwara in Faridabad. But he also happens to be my friend, in the abstract spirits of comrade-in-arms. It appears he has a satellite connect with God and is able to figure out. When, over a period of time my entire self goes into a depression, thinking about my younger son, whom I lost some six years back. And just then he calls up.

He doesn’t understand English and I can’t talk fluent Punjabi and so we make the most of it in Hindi. His occasional calls pep me up but I am not sure if it’s the other way round too. And, unlike most Sardars he is short and stout and often wears a saffron patka. We came together in life because we both share the curse of losing our sons in a space of a week.

It was sometime in mid-February when I had admitted my younger son, when he was towards his last in a hospital in Faridabad for palliative care, where I found Sukhwinder’s son also admitted for liver disorder. He was in serious state, around twenty years of age; and the next day he expired. Our rooms were adjacent and so I had enough opportunities to picture and frame him in my mind. And, upon the sad and untimely death of his son, that afternoon, I walked across to his room and paid my deep sense of condolence. Thereafter, in a ballooning bundle of grief, he along with his wailing wife, family and the body of his son left the hospital.

I was feeling sad for him. But I too wasn’t far behind. As my tragedy too, befell upon me within the next four days. I was thereafter on leave for a couple of weeks. And when I resumed office. Every morning I used to drive past a Gurudwara where one day I spotted Sukhwinder. I stopped my car and went up to him. Just to ask how he was, and quite frankly also to discern, better or worse than me. He was looking the other way when I put my hand on his shoulder. He turned around and without wasting time, I reminded him of the hospital and politely enquired about him, post his son’s death. He could recollect me in seconds and asked about my son. I gave him the tragic news. He sounded hurt. I decided to leave after a brief chat, but he ordered for a cup of tea. And our friendship thus began.

Since that day till the time that Gurudwara was on my way to office, once in a while we used to meet over a cup of tea and he used to narrate quite a few invigorating episodes from ‘Granth Sahab’ and ‘Gita’ that helped me tide away, and soften my tragedy.

It is now more than six years we continue as friends and we make it a point to talk to each other at least once a month just to share happiness and sorrow, and probably one day when we stop receiving calls from each other one of us will know the other has kicked the bucket.

Our world is full of affinity, when it comes to being from the same religion, sect, ethnicity, language and food. But after I lost my son I realised there is also an affinity that takes birth out of unusual tragedies in life. I and Sukhwinder had similar tragedies leading to a very unusual experience in life not known and felt by many, and that brought us together.

By Kamlesh Tripathi

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