Tag Archives: lifestyle

POEM: THE SUM TOTAL OF LIFE

Copyright@shravancharitymission

 

 

The sum total of life was never easy to calculate,

And the equation of existence was never easy to evaluate,

Where, I had rubbed some, and some had rubbed me,

And from this tug of war I could never be free.

*

But I remember I was born with a mission,

That had a vision,

It also had a goalpost,

And it also had the foremost.

*

But then what went wrong?

That soon after I was born,

My mission changed and vision altered,

Goalpost shifted and I somersaulted.

*

Perhaps, in the windings of life,

Attractions were galore,

Where arrogance was available even in a road side store,

And where ego had become the dubious cynosure.

*

Slowly, all these had become the handy recipes for success,

Where, show off had become the order of the day,

Humbleness had become the emblem of the frail,

And politeness the solemn disgrace.

*

So, to stay the course,

 I deviated from my umbilical holds,

To become that fashionable rogue,

Where, I too, cheated to the fore,

And intimidated others, galore.

*

One day I met God while walking on the road,

He asked,

Son! How are you?

I replied,

Who are you?

*

He said,

Well I’m God your creator,

I replied,

But you’re quite a traitor,

*

In utter disbelief,

He asked why?

I said because you belied,

About the journey of life,

By selling me the futile.

*

But how?

Asked God,

I said,

Where, it was arrogance you gave me some great mission,

Where, it was ego you gave me some stupid vision,

And where it was show off you gave me that wide goalpost.

*

But all that wasn’t required,

To rise higher,

So I changed my fire,

And with that my sire.

*

But son I had sent you to there,

For everyone’s welfare,

But instead of welfare,

You became a malware,

And what will God do,

If it has sons like you?

*

That is your problem God,

If men can’t do what you want them to do,

Go create some other species,

That will help you chase,

Your mandate that is not easy.

*

Hold on my son,

Don’t throw such a referendum,

Life for you has just begun,

So, let me give you an ultimatum.

*

Mend your ways,

And return,

To those humble and noble sways,

For you have no idea,

*

Of the sum total of those stormy waves,

That will only strike you,

When you’re at the twilight of your days,

And that will be too late.

**

In pursuit of wild success man has imbibed arrogance, ego and show-off leaving behind those splendid virtues of a simple lifestyle. And it is only by practice of simple habits the sum total of your life will move towards the positive side.

***

By Kamlesh Tripathi

*

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)

*****

 

 

POEM: THE RAT-RACE

Copyright@shravancharitymission

THE RAT- RACE

In the heat of life,

There was never a summer,

But when the heat was over,

Only the winter got closer.

*

In my hectic life,

I was always uptight,

About things that mattered,

And also about things that didn’t matter.

*

In the days of heat,

Life was like a marathon race,

Where some pseudo brainwaves,

Had termed it as a rat race.

*

One initially thought,

It’s a onetime race,

But sadly, it turned out to be,

A lifetime of a race.

*

Where, the rats were surprised,

That it was some enterprise,

Where man stole the race,

And made it into a rat race,

And that too, without their gaze.

*

It all started well,

Like the string of jingle bells,

But soon the jingle was over,

And you were left as a rover.

*

There was so much to do,

And so much to improve,

Where I had my own dreams,

To brew and stew,

Until one day I realised,

I had a career to pursue.

*

Between the race and career,

Man had no breather,

Soon he became a teaser,

And with that a big schemer.

*

That resulted in endless pursuits,

And pointless disputes,

Bereft of generosity,

And full of ferocity,

Where humans were estranged,

And demons were ordained.

*

From exhaustive to repetitive lifestyle,

To loads of competition,

Until one day I realised,

Sanity was about to get paralysed.

*

As the stance of life was changing,

Where heat was evaporating,

Where winter was upstaging,

Grace was receding,

And where time was forsaking.

*

Is when I asked the creator,

What happens now?

When heat becomes cold,

Summer becomes winter,

Hectic become skeptic,

And I become rustic.

*

Nothing said the creator,

As good sense of life is always greater,

Then the rat race,

That happens to be a crater,

And in disguise a hater.

*

So come out of it,

To live in the winter,

That also has a summer,

That also has a shelter.

*

For rat race is just a phase,

And phase should not be a craze,

And the ultimate is encased,

In the wisdom of faith.

***

Share if you like it

By Kamlesh Tripathi

***

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

*****

The gift of the Magi

Copyright@shravancharitymission

lifestylesimple living

Not very long ago I was on the lookout for a suitable birthday gift for my wife. As we have come of age I mentally rejected those silly romantic and valentinesque gifts. There was plenty of time. I could select at leisure, not knowing there is never time enough. In such situations it flies on the wings of a dove, and lo and behold the birthday was well nigh-It was the birth day eve and I hadn’t made a choice. I decided to take the bull by the horns and walked into a shopping mall. I tried this and that but right choice eluded me. I wanted to be sure it would not turn out to be something on the lines of ‘the gift of the Magi’. The brilliantly lit cut glass bottles caught my eyes. The perfumes-yes of course-that was what I was looking for. It was difficult to select from a variety of foreign brands because all were Greek to me. I delved into the recesses of my mind and came up with BVLGARI. The quaint, almost unpronounceable name had remained stuck in my memory after watching a foreign serial where a girl goes shopping and among many things she pauses before a glittering array of perfume bottles. The name stood out like a sore thumb. BVLGARI- must be good. That’s how I purchased the gift. Obviously, the serial had robbed me off some hard earned wampum but I was happy. The triumph of advertisement or casual memory-retention had done the trick. Reminds me of something I read somewhere:  “Advertising is the art of arresting human intelligence just long enough to get money from it.”

A.K.Tripathi,                                                                                                                                                                                       Guwahati-Assam-march -2015

O MY FAIR LADY!

Copyright@shravancharitymission

  2my fair ladt

    Our formative years were full of fun and coupled to them was a careless, happy –go- lucky lifestyle that went naturally with it. The gay abandon and freedom we enjoyed was all within the family for we enjoyed doing things together. Life was simple and modes of entertainment simpler. No Cineplex, no DVDs, or play stations or speed dating. A good game of cricket followed by a refreshing ice soda, topped by a steaming cup of coffee with a bun, perhaps, was the ultimate luxury. My interest in movies as a source of entertainment was influenced by my uncle who belonged to the era of Douglas Fairbanks, Spencer Tracey, Clark Gable, Cary Grant, Gregory Peck and a host of others who gave that aura of sheer mysticism and glamour to Hollywood, which makes it what it is today. Uncle was particular about the movies we saw, especially the English movies. He out rightly discouraged the slam-bang-wham types, excepting, of course, the Westerns starring John Wayne, Gary Cooper and the ilk. Uncle acquainted us with the top genre movies including the noire category made by Hollywood. The list of films ranged from Ten Commandments, Ben Hur, My Fair Lady, The Sound of Music to Scapegoat, Stagecoach and Gunfight at O.K. Coral. However, my all time favourite is The Sound of Music. ‘Do Re Me Fa…’ , ‘I’m sixteen going on seventeen….’, oh, what numbers, simply out of this world-or mind blowing by today’s parlance. For sheer magic of music and visual excellence the movie is miles ahead of its genre.

But for unalloyed intellectual treat My Fair Lady takes the cake. Elders at home took great pains to explain the essential hypocrisy of the British and their unique trait of laughing at themselves. That, perhaps, has moulded my present opinion. Based on Pygmalion by the great English dramatist, GBS, this captivating musical, a Twentieth Century Fox Production, won the best film Oscar(1964). The name Pygmalion refers to the king of Cyprus who fell in love with a statue of his own making. The beautiful statue was bestowed with life and turned into a more beautiful maiden whom Pygmalion married, or so the story goes. Henry Higgins is an English linguistics professor without peer. He is also a misogynistic bachelor-brash, arrogant but totally committed to his work. The Covent Garden scene where he meets scruffy Eliza Dolittle, superbly portrayed by Audrey Hepburn, a common flower girl with a Cockney accent, is uniquely scripted and refreshingly filmed.

Professor Higgins takes on Eliza under his tutelage in order to transform her from a rustic flower girl to a lady who captures the majesty and grandeur of the English language with impeccable articulation. They train together and enter into a cantankerous relationship where Eliza threatens Higgins, “Just you wait Henry Higgins”. Eliza has to work unceremoniously as part of his innovative speech devices much to the anguish of Col Pickering who sympathises with the girl for the ordeals she suffers. Higgins bets with Pickering that he will be able to pass Eliza off as a Duchess in six months time. The big day finally arrives. Pretenders, masqueraders, and polyglots arrive incognito to de-mask Eliza. They tease, torment and taunt Eliza who stands unnerved by their verbal sallies. Eliza steals the show with His Majesty leading the dance with her, much like the Cindrella of the fairy tale. Eliza transcends expectations beyond measure. Higgins finds it difficult to believe in his own handiwork and concedes defeat, saying: “ I have grown accustomed to her face”.

Astonishing sets, captivating costumes and excellent photography together with immortal tunes like’ “Get me to the church in time”, “I could have danced all night” transform the movie into a classic. Down to this day the movie ranks as an all time favourite for our entire family. The supporting cast in the form of Alfred Dolittle (Stanley Holloway) in the role of Eliza’s eccentric yet charismatic father is no less endearing. Alfred delivers some of the finest lines in the film, and remains my favourite character to this day. Our own Bollywood has many a times borrowed thematic contents from Hollywood classics of the early sixties and seventies. Dil Hai Ki Manta Nahi and picked up its theme from It Happened One Night, while The Sound Of Music provided the concept for Parichay. Devanand’s Manpasand adapted substantially from My Fair Lady. In doing so the Bollywood  attempt was bold but not a patch on the great movie. However, Devanand as Higgins and Girish Karnad as Col Pickering just manage to keep the movie afloat.

Going back to my favourite, the most exciting part of the movie is where Higgins and Eliza sing the ditty “The Rain In Spain Falls Mainly in the Plain”.  Suddenly Eliza discovers that the tone, timbre and modulation of her voice have acquired the Queen’s accent. The exhilaration and joy of the Professor is a delight to watch. Even Pickering and the house maids join in the fun as the song goes on and on. The scene is one of the high point of the movie. The acerbic wit in the allegory authored by the redoubtable GBS is commendably brought out in the film which for me remains a moving experience.

A.K.Tripathi,                                                                                                                                        Guwahati-Assam

March-2015

First published in Local Area Magazine titled ‘Nava Arunodoi’ in 2009. The article has since been re-edited.