Tag Archives: kamlesh tripathi

Book title: Gloom behind the smile by Kamlesh Tripathi

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Follow the link in WorldCat. Happy reading.

https://www.worldcat.org/title/gloom-behind-the-smile/oclc/694547181

Written and posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

Author, Poet, & Columnist

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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. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? 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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The Book that brought Ponds to life was written by Anupam Mishra

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TOI article- 14/9/25 THE BOOK THAT BROUGHT PONDS BACK TO LIFE

Book Title: “Aaj Bhi Khare Hain Talaab (Ponds Are Still Relevant)” by Anupam Mishra
“Translated into eight languages and available in Braille, Anupam Mishra’s book has quietly sparked a revolution in water conservation across villages — one pond at a time”   
    What do you call a book that was first published without the author’s name on the cover, which has no copyright and encourages the reader to use it for free in any form, inspires common people to spend money from their own pockets and translate it, can be read in atleast nine languages, including Marathi, Bengali, Tamil, and also in Braille, has been broadcast by atleast 20 radio stations with over two lakh copies published, has almost become a holy book for water warriors and, yet, remains largely unknown to the educated public.
    Anupam Mishra’s ‘Aaj Bhi Khare Hain Talab (The Ponds Are Still Relevant)’ wasn’t launched in a farmhouse or nominated for major literary awards. But the book has become a movement. Spread over a frugal 119 pages, it reveals how ponds and lakes were fundamental to life and livelihoods across the country, and how their construction, preservation, and regeneration were embedded in community fabric-guided both by science and deeper philosophical values.
    First published by the Gandhi Peace Foundation in Hindi in 1993, the book continues to find fresh readers in new languages and forms. This year, it has been made accessible online in a disability-friendly e-text, says Kailash Pande of Delhi Blind School.
    Ramon Magsaysay award recipient Rajendra Singh says that at a time when headlines rapidly shift from drought to flood, the book remains as relevant as ever. “The change in weather patterns is an outcome of climate change and global warming. The book shows how to adapt to and mitigate the current crisis,” says Singh, whose NGO Tarun Bharat Sangh also shaped Mishra’s early ideas.
    Chasing Indigenous Wisdom:
    Aaj Bhi … was born out of Mishra’s extensive travels as a seeker and surveyor of India’s interiors in the 1980s. Mishra spoke less, listened more. A Gandhian by belief and environmentalist in action, he discovered a tradition of water-saving techniques in arid Rajasthan. In areas he couldn’t visit, Mishra sought the aid of friends and fellow travellers, naming each of them in the book. “The book harnessed indigenous water wisdom scattered across the country,” says social activist and old-time colleague Rakesh Dewan.
    At the turn of the 20th century, India had 11-12 lakh ponds, the book says. Mishra referenced the 1907 gazetteer to show that the princely state of Rewa in north-eastern Madhya Pradesh had 5,000 ponds. The early 20th-century Madras Presidency was home to 53,000 ponds. Who would believe that in the early 20th century, Delhi had 350 ponds, as a 1930 map illustrates. Dewan says that officers posted to Jabalpur during the British Raj were advised not to bring fans because the ponds there ensured a cool weather.
    The book also details the craft of building ponds and devotes a chapter to their anonymous creators. Mishra illustrates how, for centuries, communities such as the Odhs, the Gonds, and the Ramnamis had dedicatedly constructed ponds. Such acts often cut across the caste spectrum. Building ponds was also part of the financial system. “Those who built ponds in the kingdom of Gond rajas got a tax break. This tradition was strong in the Sambalpur region,” he writes. Digging ponds was among the punishments meted out by the caste panchayats of Bundelkhand. Ponds permeate every sinew of life.
    Deep Impact:
    Many found the addictive. Some finished it in one go and keep revisiting it. “People were mesmerised,” says Bhopal-based journalist Shabbir Quadri, who translated the book into Urdu and distributed it for free at madrasas and panchayats.
    Mishra, who passed away in 2016, would build a personal relationship with his readers. “I correspond with about 3,000-odd readers. The idea is to create awareness and build a movement through the book. You cannot do that without forming a long-standing relationship with them,” he told this reporter in 2004.
    One such reader was Surendra Bansal, then a freelance graphic designer in Punjab’s Malerkotla. He learnt about the book from a piece by journalist Prabhas Joshi in the ‘Jansatta’ newspaper. “I read that article four times and wrote to Anupam-Ji,” he says. “I didn’t have the address, so I just wrote, Anupam Mishra, Delhi”. Miraculously, the letter reached its destination. Mishra sent him two of his books with a handwritten note in his signature style.
    Bansal read the book and then translated it into Gurmukhi. He published it by selling off his prized cacti collection for Rs 11,000. “When Anupam-ji came to know about it, he first scolded me. Then he wept,” remembers Bansal, who now works for Haryana govt’s PR department. He has published five editions of the book in Gurmukhi. And he hasn’t stopped. Bansal regularly scans Punjabi magazines and sends free copies of the book to those he believes might be interested in water conservation. “I also distribute it to youth clubs and village libraries,” he says. Bansal has given away 6,200 copies so far.
    The book has also been used to groom community leaders. Aaj Bhi … was introduced as part of the syllabus in Chitrakoot’s Mahatma Gandhi Gramin Vishwavidyalaya. “It was taught to graduate students in 313 centres in a leadership course,” says retired civil servant B Rajagopal Naidu. The book was also part of the Hindi syllabus for graduates in Mumbai University between 2017 and 2019.
    Why It Still Matters
    Rajendra Singh, known as the ‘Waterman of India’, says Aaj Bhi … made a deep impact in MP and Rajasthan. Naidu, whose tenure as DM of Sagar in MP during 2002-04 was marked by a host of water management initiatives, says the book helped mobilise people and build awareness around check dams, and small drinking water ponds.
    He also remembers how the clean-up of Sagar’s sprawling Lakha Banjara lake got stuck due to a funds crunch. Help came in an unusual way. Film lyricist and Congres politician Vithalbhai Patel, who had penned the 1973 hit Bobby’s famous song, ‘Jhooth Bole Kawwa Kate’, went around every morning to the town’s different wards, asking people to donate Re 1 for the talab. The amount raised helped restore a huge portion of the lake.
    Such examples abound. Singh of Tarun Bharat Sangh, which constructed at least 7,500 ponds, says that dozens of initiatives were undertaken in Jodhpur and Barmer districts. “A sarpanch from Bikaner’s Nakhoda village called me after reading the book seeking help to build ponds,” he recalls.
    Chhatar Singh, a master of desert water conservation in Jaisalmer district, restored about 500 ponds, beris, and wells. A beri is a shallow well that harvests rainwater.
    “Reading the book, I felt my forefathers were talking to me. It was written in a way that inspired action,” says Chhatar, who was also impressed by Mishra’s book, ‘Rajasthan Ki Rajat Boondein (The Silver Drops Of Rajasthan)’. He explains Mishra’s approach: “If you had any doubts about building ponds,  Anupam ji would organise a gathering. He knew the answer, but would let the answer emerge from us.”
    Eastern Rajasthan’s Lapodia village is a famous conservation success story. Its head, Laxman Singh, read Aaj bhi… and encouraged fellow villagers to do so too. Impressed by its message of reviving traditional methods, they undertook a textbook application of rainwater harvesting and water management techniques to transform a sun-dried area into a village of three fecund ponds–Dev Sagar, Phool Sagar, and Anna Sagar, with a 300 bigha meadow.
    Laxman Singh says Mishra visited Lapodia twice every year for 30 years. “He was our guide and guru. Pehle woh insaan taiyar karte thhey, phir dharti (First, he readied people, then the land),” Laxman told this reporter in 2016. When the book’s Braille edition came out around 2009, Mishra visited Delhi Blind School, inspiring students to perform shramdan, or voluntary labour, recalls Pande.
    Academic Annie Montaut, who has translated ‘Rajasthan Ki Rajat Boondein’ into French, writes how even prisoners of a French jail could relate to Mishra’s lecture on water conservation. Some recalled their own childhood in Morocco. “I was surprised by the reaction; he wasn’t. Anupam-ji told me that he had learnt a lot from the uneducated,” she wrote in Hindi to Mishra’s wife, Manjushree, for an upcoming book in tribute to her husband.
    It is almost a cliché that a book can change your world. Mishra’s slim volume certainly reaffirms that adage. With global water shortage now an impending reality, the book’s significance has magnified in recent years. Today Aaj Bhi… is to water conservationists what Das Capital is to Marxists. A Ratna of Bharat, Mishra, never received even a Padmashri. But his book continues to usher in a silent revolution, one pond at a time.


Posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

Author, Poet, & Columnist

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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. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? 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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SHORT STORY: THE PRICK OF CONSCIENCE by Kamlesh Tripathi

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Enjoy my short story published in The Assam Tribune on January 5, 2025. Happy reading.

THE PRICK OF CONSCIENCE


    It reminds me of a time when I used to go to a park every day, early in the morning. The place was absolutely still and quiet and reminded me of those neat and peaceful words — pin-drop silence.
    It was a long walk from where I stayed. It was also the midway for me, where I used to take a break. The park was located on the banks of a river and was about 25 to 30 feet higher than the normal flow of the river water, and in between the two, there was a deep gradient. To secure the area from anyone falling into the river, a rugged railing had been raised only recently. The other end of the park touched the busy road, coming all the way from the airport and passing into the main city. Beyond the river, there was a tall, dark hillock that gave a great sense of scenic fulfilment.
    All around, it was lush green, especially during the monsoons, when the gushing water level, at times, used to rise and ripple past the edges of the gradient to enter the park. I normally sat there each day for about ten to 15 minutes, for some meditation and introspection that refreshed me to take on the tough day ahead. I had relocated to the city some six months ago as an inspector in the police department. In the park, I also met many health freaks coming for morning walks, and some just to lollygag.
    Close to the main gate of the park, there was a small tea stall. I guess it grossed all its revenue early in the morning while serving the morning walkers. Once in a while, it also served hot bhajiyas that tasted deadly with the hot tea.
    I had become a little pally with the tea stall owner, who was young and appeared somewhat educated. There was always a newspaper lying in the stall where tea buffs often rushed through the latest headlines, only to exchange informal barbs.
     As a regular visitor, I had started recognising quite a few faces there. Gradually, I even got to know the names of a few. One out of them happened to be an old person who was normally quiet. One day, the stall owner, who knew that I was a police inspector, introduced me to him. His name was Robert.
    In a matter of days, I started interacting with Robert and referred to him as ‘Uncle’. He must have been around 70. He spoke very little. But whenever he did, he was to the point. He was normally in his own world, and nothing amused him.
    The days passed on as usual. One day, Robert walked up to me and asked, “Are you in the police?”
    I said, “Yes.”
    “Then can you do me a favour?”
    I asked, “What favour?”
    He looked at me for a while and said, “Many years ago, when I was young, while playing in this park, I fought with my best friend. Unfortunately, the fight took an ugly turn. As a result, I pushed him down the slope over there. Sadly, he fell into the river. It was the peak of the monsoon when the river was in spate and he was swept away, never to return.”
    “Oh God! But did you tell the police that you had pushed him down the slope?”
    “No!”
    “But why?”
    “Because I was scared I’ll be arrested. So, the police registered a case of an accident stating that he didn’t know how to swim, so he drowned.”
    “So then, why are you telling me your story now, after so many years?”
    “After 50 years, to be precise, to clear my conscience. You’re in the police, if you want, you can still arrest me for the crime.”
    “Have you told this to anyone else?”
    “No.”
    “But why?”
    “Because he was my next-door neighbour.”
    “So how does that matter?”
    “It matters because, years later, I married his sister.”
    “But does she know that you were the one who pushed her brother?”
    “A few years ago, I did tell her. She couldn’t bear the shock and passed away within weeks.”
    “And what about your children?”
    “I have two sons. Both are in Australia. They don’t know about my crime. But maybe you can tell them after I’m arrested or I’m gone.” After that, he picked up his walking stick and started walking. Perhaps, he was heading home.
    After the unwelcome conversation, a couple of days passed, but I did not see Robert. One day, when I reached the tea stall. I was informed by the stall owner that Robert had committed suicide. I was shocked to hear the news. Perhaps, he was preparing for it, mentally, when he told me about his act of crime. I morosely attended his funeral, where I even got to meet his two sons, Richard and Simon, but I did not mention anything.
    After that, I continued with my morning walk, as usual. One day, when I arrived at the tea stall, the owner gave me a sealed envelope that Robert had left for me. I opened it. There was another sealed cover within, bearing the name and address of Richard in Australia, with a request to send it to him through a reliable courier, which I did.
    Robert, after losing his wife, couldn’t have taken a chance with his sons– he didn’t want them to commit suicide. But he wanted to confess his crime to his children, which he did after he was gone.
    Most certainly, your pricking conscience is the most relentless jury in you.

Written and posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

Author, Poet, & Columnist

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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. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

***

POEM: THE OTHER SIDE OF HOMETOWN by Kamlesh Tripathi

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You thought your hometown was your favourite town,
But the hometown had something else to convey,
Upon your return after decades.

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Though the name of the town had remained the same,
Everything else in it had changed.

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The spires and minarets were dwarfed by skyscrapers,
Schools had become colleges,
Shops had become malls,
Parks had become dump yards.

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Barren fields had turned into housing societies,
Playing fields had turned into gated communities.
All around, the view was different,
Where the docile town had turned into a bustling city.

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Early friends had become senior citizens,
Roads had become flyovers,
The skyline now had a metro,
Locations had a new look.

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Eateries had new banners,
Markets had a new behaviour.

Childlike had metamorphosed into adultlike,
It was when I returned to the city after decades.

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From a pleasant child’s face,
I had now become an unknown and grown-up face.
So, everywhere in the hometown,
I was required to introduce myself.

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It was the same town you had left with hope,
That someday you would return as a familiar face.
But that was not to be,
For the hometown had its own fortune to make.

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Though your name was in the air,
You had now become an unknown face.
Though you remembered the names of your friends,
Their faces, too, had changed.

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It was now your karma-bhoomi versus your hometown,
One had given you identity,
The other had given you a career opportunity.
One had given you fond and affectionate memories,
The other had given you a professional name.

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So was it a letdown?
To return to your hometown?
Yes, in some ways.
So don’t have blind faith,
Whether it is your hometown or your workplace,
For both have their own legacies to make.

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“The biggest permanence of life is change.
Don’t expect your hometown to be the same as it was when you left it decades ago.
So return if you have to, but with a pinch of salt.”

***

Written and posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

Author, Poet, & Columnist

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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. Our posts are designed for our readers, including children and adults, and feature a diverse range of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to contribute to the cause of cancer research? 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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THE JOY OF MORNING WALK IN HAZRATGANJ

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    Every morning, I walk up to the IT College metro station from my house, which is about ten minutes, cutting across the sprawling Police Lines. Today was a similar drill. I took the metro from there to Hazratganj Station, which is just three stations away. And today, being a holiday, the metro was absolutely empty. In fact, I was the only chap, I think, who got down at the Hazratganj station. Even as I was returning, I was the only person who boarded from there.

    In Hazratganj, I usually walk for about half an hour every day. But the air was heavy today, even when the roads and the footpath were empty. There was a heavy security deployment near the Khadi Gram showroom where Yogi ji, the Chief Minister of U.P., was to arrive to pay homage to Mahatma Gandhi, today being his birth anniversary. I continued walking till I arrived at my usual joint, The Shukla tea stall, on Church Road, Hazratganj, that serves tea and street food.

    The place is heavily crowded. Today was no different. I normally have a Kulhad chai there, which reminds me of the cutting Chai in Mumbai. While I was having Chai, two police motorcycles, blaring their sirens, landed at the tea stall. They started coaxing the drivers to remove their cars and scooters from there. It appeared as a special security drill on the 2nd of October. I was happy to note that I had landed in Hazratganj by metro and was on foot, so I didn’t have to bother about my car. I felt liberated. As a result, the tea tasted even sweeter, the weather even more pleasant, and the walk even more energising, and the mind relaxed. See what blaring sirens can do to you when you don’t have a car.

Written and posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

Author, Poet, & Columnist

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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. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

***

THE STORY OF AJAMILA … A story from Srimad Bhagvatam by Kamlesh Tripathi

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    Once, in the city of Kanyakubja (present-day Kannauj), there lived a Brahmin named Ajamila. He had studied all the Vedic scriptures from a very young age. He was noble in character and conduct. Well-mannered, free from false pride, he was upright and kind to all living beings.

    One day, when Ajamila was gathering flowers in the forest for his daily puja, he saw a beautiful enchantress. Her beauty captivated him, and immediately he fell under her wicked spell.

    Soon, Ajamila drove out his faithful wife and elderly parents from his home. He married the enchantress and had many children with her. Ajamila, who had once led a chaste life, now spent his days trying to please his immoral wife. He indulged in many sinful activities that he would have never done before.

    Despite being born a Brahmin, Ajamila started killing innocent animals to feed his large family. He began stealing and cheating others, and even encouraged his sons to follow a similar sinful path.

    Among all his children, Ajamila was especially fond of his youngest son. His name was Narayana. The child’s innocent behaviour and playful ways had won over Ajamila’s heart. He spent most of his time with Narayana.

    Years passed, one day, when Ajamila was old and on his deathbed, he saw three Yamadutas, the terrifying servants of Yamaraja, the god of death, coming towards him. They had come to take Ajamila’s soul and punish him for all the sins that he had committed in his life.

    Gripped by intense fear, Ajamila began to weep. In panic, he started calling out the name “Narayana,” which was his beloved son’s name. And, he kept calling ‘Narayana’ on and on, without realising that he was actually chanting the holy name of Lord Narayana.

    The Vishnudutas, who were messengers of Lord Vishnu, heard the holy name of their Lord being chanted by Ajamila on his deathbed, and immediately, they rushed to the scene.

    Just as the Yamadutas were about to pull Ajamila’s soul out of his body, the Vishnudutas arrived there and tried to stop them. But the Yamadutas refused to listen. They insisted that Ajamila should be punished for his sins. The Vishnudutas then explained, “Ajamila has already atoned for his sins. Not only those sins committed in this life, but also for those committed over millions of lifetimes, simply by chanting the holy name of Narayana in his helpless state. The name of the Lord is divine. Even though Ajamila was unaware, each time he called his son by his name Narayana, he was actually chanting the Lord’s name and cleansing himself of his sins. Lord Narayana protects those who chant His Holy Name.”

    The Yamadutas were thus silenced by the profound wisdom of the Vishnudutas. Defeated, they returned to Yamaraja, their master, and recounted all that had happened. Yamaraja concurred with what they had been told. He said, “What you have heard is true. Although I’m your master, Lord Narayana is the Supreme Lord of the entire universe, and we are all His servants.” He added, “Just as a king has ministers to carry out his commands, I and other demigods work under the direction of the Supreme Lord.”

    Yamaraja then explained the rewards of chanting the holy name of Lord Narayana:

    “Even the most sinful person is taken to the Supreme Lord’s abode, and he is freed from all punishment if he chants the holy name of Lord Narayana at the time of his death. Lord Narayana will always protect those who chant His holy name.”

    He then advised his servants never to bring a person who chants the Holy Name or engages in the devotional service to Lord Narayana. Instead, they should bring only those who do not chant or fail to remember the lotus feet of the Supreme Lord.

    Ajamila sincerely bowed to the Vishnudutas when he realised he had been saved from the Yamadutas. He expressed gratitude for rescuing him from going to Naraka. Reflecting on his past sins, Ajamila was filled with remorse for having abandoned his first wife and parents. He now clearly saw the wrongs he had committed.

    Ajamila now understood the immense power in chanting the holy name of Lord Narayana. He deeply regretted wasting his life in sinful acts and resolved that, if given a second chance, he would dedicate himself to the service of the Lord.

    By the mercy of the Lord Narayana, Ajamila was granted a second chance to live. He seized the opportunity and went to Haridwar, where he spent the rest of his life chanting and serving Lord Vishnu, also known as Lord Narayana.

    One day, when Ajamila was meditating, he saw a golden aircraft descending from the sky. Inside it were the same Vishnudutas who had saved him earlier. They had now come to take him to his eternal home, the abode of Lord Narayana.

    Ajamila peacefully left his body on the banks of the sacred Ganga River in Haridwar and joined the Vishnudutas to serve his Supreme Lord forever.

Written and posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

Author, Poet, & Columnist

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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. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

***

Poem: The Golden Voice of Zubeen Garg by Kamlesh Tripathi

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Published in The Shillong Times on 28.9.25

Written and posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

Author, Poet, & Columnist

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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. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? The bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

***

Mystery of Agatha Christie’s India Story Finally Solved

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14/9/25 MYSTERY OF AGATHA CHRISTIE’S INDIA STORY FINALLY SOLVED


    — WHY DIDN’T THEY ASK MATHEW? THERE WAS CONSTANT SPECULATION OVER WHETHER AGATHA CHRISTIE EVER CAME TO INDIA, BUT NEVER ANY PROOF, EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS KNOWN TO BE AN AVID TRAVELLER. NOW, HER GRANDSON TELLS WRITER MANJIRI PRABHU THAT SHE DEFINITELY HAD VISITED – NOT ONCE, BUT TWICE–


    Some mysteries need to be actively cracked, but some solve themselves with time.


    There has been constant speculation about Agatha Christie’s India connection. One question has recurred over the years, but has never really been accurately answered: Did Agatha Christie ever visit India? The internet and popular belief will state that she did not. I, too, had often puzzled over how Christie, a world traveller, had never actually been to India. In fact, in a video in 2021, I had even concluded that she hadn’t. Until one cool but sunny Easter day in Wales.
    In March 2024, I met Christie’s grandson, Mathew Prichard, and his lovely wife, Lucy, at their charming home in Wales. Prichard, now in his 80s, had been very close to his grandmother.
    It was a memorable day, but it turned momentous when Mathew showed me Christie’s personal memorabilia — her passports, her first typed and edited manuscripts, rare photos, her camera, and her last portrait painting, which hung on one of the walls of his house.
    When Mathew signed and gifted me a copy of his grandmother’s latest biography, I also realised what a mammoth task he had been entrusted with-to preserve her legacy, and how he had upheld that trust: a proud grandson of the Queen of Crime.
    It was when I mentioned how strange it was that Christie had never visited India that he glanced at me with a twinkle in his blue eyes and said, “Oh, but she did!” I was startled. This was contrary to all that we believed. A few minutes later, as I skimmed through the numerous black-and-white, well-preserved photos, I found some that made my heart race-pictures of Christie with a garland, descending from an Indian Airlines plane. Here, finally, was the missing link to a long-standing puzzle.
    I was on the threshold of solving a real mystery, but I needed to know more. At my request, the archivist Joseph Keogh dug deeper and came up with some fascinating, unpublicised facts. Christie had indeed visited India-not once, but twice. From her passport stamps, he traced her travel itinerary for the two trips.
    Her first trip was in Jan 1960, when she visited Ceylon (present-day Sri Lanka), then India and Pakistan. From Jan 11 to Feb 2, she travelled to Bombay (now Mumbai), headed to South India’s Madras (now Chennai), did some sightseeing at the Ajanta Caves, and then on to Delhi. Between Feb 2 and 9, she went to Nepal and returned to Patna and Delhi, finally leaving for Karachi on Feb 17.
    Some letters were also found that referenced her trips. It appeared that the 1960 trip was for a lecture tour by her second husband, the archaeologist Max Mallowan.
    The following are extracts from two letters that Christie wrote to Edmund Cork in Cyprus, her literary agent and lifelong friend.
    Jan 11, 1960 | Future plans are, roughly, leave for Madras today – go via southern India to Bombay arriving 17th or 18th–Then some sightseeing near Bombay Agenta Caves (sic) etc and on to Delhi and then to Nepal on Jan 31st for a week — c/o British Embassy would find us there as I’m not sure what the hotel is.
    Jan 20, 1960 | Our plans are a bit different at the moment as accommodation at hotels is very hard to get exactly when one wants it but we shall be in and out of the Ashoka Hotel at Delhi between Jan 28th and Feb 2nd– and then Nepal (c/o British Embassy Kathmandu) 2nd to 9th then in and out of Ashoka again finally leaving it on Feb 17th for Karachi. So forward anything you think I ought to see to the Ashoka at Delhi — but nothing that I needn’t!!
    Another letter was from Christie, then staying at the Ashoka Hotel in New Delhi, to  Rosalind, her daughter.
    Feb 16, 1960 | On our arrival here yesterday evening, several archaeologists were waiting with two porters and loads of archaeological material from their … dig. The examination of the same intrigued the Ashoka guests very much.
    Christie’s second trip to India, a year later, seemed to be for leisure. The passport has a Palam, New Delhi stamp (month not specified) in 1961. This time she visited Srinagar in Kashmir and stayed at the Oberoi Palace. This is what she wrote to he daughter Rosalind:
    Oct 30, 1961 | Lake and mountains rather lovely. This is a Hotel rather like at Jaipur — converted Rajah’s Palace — miles and miles of corridors — enormous rooms and we are in a kind of supersuite looking over lake. It’s all terribly dried up by this time of year — one ought really to come in May-June. Now one must be content by rich beds of red salvia and dahlias in the Hotel garden. Temp is about 50 at night. Delicious hot sun to sit in and about 60 in a day. Suits me very well. We made some excursions — to the various Mogul gardens — and to a lake … Which is very beautiful and ringed with snowclad mountains. You can see the mountains now after the rain. We have to leave here and go to the Hotel in the town– but expect that our booking for Nov 2nd to Delhi will be all right.
    From Delhi, she wrote again to Rosalind.
    Here we are in the Ashoka. I’m glad we had a good ten days and in a perfect Hotel for old ladies (very few of them nowadays) where I could sit, in the sun — and look at a view like a Japanese print. Lovely!
    The letters revealed Christie’s bright, chirpy personality and tongue-in-cheek humour, her eagerness to explore India and her appreciation of scenic beauty. She seemed happy to be in India.
    But I pondered why her trips were not well-known. Was it because photographs were a rarity then or because she checked into the hotels in her husband’s name — or perhaps simply because Agatha Christie was a private person?
    Whatever the reason, I was thrilled with my discovery. That sunny day with Mathew, Lucy and Gwynnie, the dog carried an extra fulfilling zing because of this exciting revelation.
    I had always sensed a deep connection to Agatha Christie. But being the chosen one to unravel the mystery of her India trips felt truly special.
PICTURES IN THE ARTICLE

  1. Agatha Christie descended from an Indian Airlines plane during one or two visits to India.
  2. Agatha Christie autographs copies of her books.
  3. Mathew Prichard (also in the photo right), who has settled the India question once and for all, with his grandmother Agatha Christie.
  4. Pages from  Christie’s passport, showing (top) arrival at Palam, and (above) a Patna Police stamp that says ‘To Kathmandu’

    TOMORROW IS THE 135TH BIRTH ANNIVERSARY OF ‘QUEEN OF CRIME’
    BORN | SEPTEMBER 15, 1890
    DIED | JANUARY 12, 1976
   – SHE WROTE THE WORLD’S LONGEST-RUNNING PLAY. THE MOUSETRAP, PERFORMED CONTINUOUSLY IN LONDON’S WEST END SINCE 1952, EXCEPT FOR A BREAK DURING COVID (2020-2021)
    – MARRIED TWICE, DIVORCED HER FIRST HUSBAND, ARCHIBALD CHRISTIE, IN 1928, AND MARRIED ARCHAEOLOGIST MAX MALLOWAN IN 1930
    – FOLLOWING THE BREAKDOWN OF HER FIRST MARRIAGE IN 1926, SHE MADE HEADLINES BY GOING MISSING FOR 11 DAYS. SHE WAS LOCATED AT A HOTEL 296 KM FROM HER HOME, REGISTERED AS MRS TRESSA NEELE, HER HUSBAND’S LOVER’S SURNAME.
    BOOKS: 66 DETECTIVE NOVELS, 14 SHORT STORIES
    FAMOUS CHARACTERS: HERCULE POIROT, MISS MARPLE
    The author is an award-winning writer of mystery novels
    [Extracts and photographs used with permission from Mathew Prichard and the Christie Archive Trust. Special thanks to Lucy Prichard and Joseph Keogh of the Christie Archive Trust]

Posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

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Book Review: The Roads of Destiny … by O Henry

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    O. Henry’s The Roads of Destiny may not be a structured poem, but it carries a poetic spirit by way of exploration of fate, choice, and the unpredictable nature of life. The story is about a man named David who stands at a crossroad, literally and figuratively, and each road represents a different future. Through this branching narrative, O. Henry entreats readers to ponder how small choices can lead to vastly different outcomes, and how fate can shape our lives in ways we don’t expect. Although written in prose, the theme and emotions in the story are rich with poetic meaning.

    The story’s central theme is how fragile and powerful our choices could be. O. Henry conveys that even decisions that seem minor can send our lives into different directions. Life is full of small, quiet moments that later turn out to be incredibly important. A step to the left or the right might not seem significant in the moment, but later it could be the reason why everything changed. Every decision holds a potential. Life is made up of many such turning points, often unrecognized until we look back.

    Closely tied to personal choice is the grip of fate. In each stage of David’s life, no matter which road he takes, he ends up facing difficult or tragic outcomes. This suggests that fate has a stronger grip on our lives than we would like to believe. The author doesn’t present fate as something harsh or cruel, but rather as mysterious and unpredictable. We walk ahead thinking we know where we’re going. But the road can suddenly curve into a completely unexpected direction. This uncertainty gives life its beauty and its difficulty. The poetic lesson here is that though we may have no control where the road leads to, we still have to walk it.

    Life’s unpredictability is another theme that gives the story its emotional weight. David’s various life unfolds in unexpected ways, proving that no plan is ever guaranteed. Even when we try to do the right thing or follow a certain path, we can’t guarantee how things will turn out. O. Henry’s storytelling reminds us that surprises, both joyful and tragic, are always around the corner and they will get you. This paradigm of unpredictability is common in poetry, where meaning often emerges in layers and can shift with time or mood. Just like an intricate poem, life unfolds with twists and surprises that challenge our understanding.

    Time also plays a pivotal role in the story. It moves forward no matter which path David takes, and it never pauses or gives him a second chance. The passing of time gives weight to our choices because we rarely get an opportunity to revisit them. This is another idea that feels deeply poetic: time is always moving, and once a moment passes, it becomes a memory. The story implores readers to be mindful of the time they have and the decisions they make within it. It also encourages reflection. Looking back at the roads we’ve taken and wondering how things might have been different.

    Regret and reflection are intertwined themes that show up throughout David’s story. Each life he lives seems to carry a shadow of what might have been if he had chosen to live differently. This idea is emotionally powerful because almost everyone, at some point, has wondered “what if?” Regret isn’t always a loud or dramatic feeling. It can be quiet, something that lingers as we look back into the past. O. Henry captures this subtle emotion in a way that feels similar to poetry, where a single line can express a lifetime of feeling.

    The author uses irony in a poetic way. In each of David’s paths, he faces hardships despite choosing different directions. This irony teaches us that even when we try to avoid danger or seek happiness, we can’t always escape what life has in store for us. The roads of destiny seem to curve back towards difficulty no matter which road he chooses. This twist reflects O. Henry’s trademark storytelling style. In poetry, irony often reveals the hidden truths and helps readers think more deeply about life’s contradictions.

    Perspective is another layer that deepens the story’s meaning. Often, we only understand the importance of a choice or event after the time has passed. What appears small at the moment may turn out to be life-changing. Just as a poem seems confusing at first and later makes perfect sense, our understanding of our own lives also changes with the perspective. This reminds us to look at our lives with curiosity and patience. The meaning of life sometimes reveals itself slowly.

     All these ideas connect to the phrase “difficult poems make easy mutton.” Though it’s a playful and unusual expression, it captures an important truth: sometimes, the things that are hardest to understand at first—like complex poems or life’s confusing events—can later become clear and deeply meaningful. Just as tough meat becomes tender after careful preparation, a difficult story or experience can eventually offer comfort, insight, or wisdom. The Roads of Destiny is that kind of story. At first glance, it seems simple, but the more you think about it, the more it says about life, choice, and the strange, beautiful mystery of where we end up.

Written and posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

Author, Poet, & Columnist

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15/9/25 THEYDUNNIT … Editorial on Agatha Christie

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… Why can’t we? TOI’s Christie-in-India story is a reminder of how we do a disservice to India’s vernacular crime fiction

Posted by Kamlesh Tripathi

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life-threatening diseases, especially cancer. Our posts are meant for our readers, including children and adults, and have a huge variety of content. We also accept donations for our mission. Should you wish to donate to the cause of cancer? 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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