Tag Archives: river

SHORT STORY: BRIGHT IDEAS

September 6, 2022Uncategorized, short storyshort story, kamlesh tripathi, river, shravan charity mission, merchant, villagers, raju, bright ideas, disabled, sahibshravancharitymission

Bright Ideas come from Intelligent people

A long time ago there once lived a person named Raju in a tiny village located near a river. He was disabled and couldn’t walk normally therefore he was forced to lead a lonely life. He used to stay with his mother in a small hut by the riverside which was a little away from the village. Over a period of time, the villagers had more or less abandoned Raju. They thought he was a spent force as he never had much to talk about except for the same old routine stuff concerning his hut’s rustic vicinities, which didn’t interest the village folks, anymore.

Once a learned person landed up on the banks of the river near Raju’s hut. The person had arrived on a boat. As he reached the riverbank he stopped for a moment and looked at Raju. Raju said, ‘Namaskar sahib.’

The learned person asked, ‘What is your name and what do you do?’ Raju replied, ‘Sahib, my name is Raju. But I’m unable to do much in life because I can’t walk properly as I’m disabled and therefore I lead a lonely life here in the vicinities of this village.’

‘But why so?’ Asked the learned person.

‘Because I have no friends here and my fellow villagers don’t give me enough respect. They don’t talk to me either because they find me to be a stale piece because I stay put here only.’ Raju then narrated his agony to the learned person. He had no friends and no one talked to him. He was discarded by the villagers because he had nothing new to talk about since he had not visited new places in his life so his reservoir of knowledge was very limited and that’s why he was considered an antique piece in the village and thus shunned.

The learned man looked at Raju and said, ‘that if you don’t get the opportunity to talk to human beings talk to birds.’

‘But how will that help sahib?’ Asked Raju. The learned person looked at him again and said, ‘well that the birds will only tell you.’ After which the learned person left for his destination.

The next day Raju waited for the birds near his hut thinking he’ll talk to them but none came. The next few days too, the same thing happened. One day Raju saw a bird gyrating up and down near his hut in search of some food which gave him an idea. He sprinkled some paddy seeds there and waited for a while. After some time he saw a couple of birds landing there to eat them. Soon a small flock was seen there enjoying the seeds as their food. Later Raju also kept a pitcher full of water there and the place soon turned into a ‘bird’s canteen.’ He and his mother started enjoying the scene. Soon every morning and evening a number of birds started coming there and gradually they became familiar with Raju and his mother. Soon Raju realised what a priceless tip the learned man had given him. Now he could do without the villagers’ company.

After some days a rich merchant landed up at the same spot where the learned person had earlier arrived. He asked Raju if he had seen a learned person passing that way. Raju confirmed that yes a learned person did pass that way some time ago and because of his advice only he was having a good time amid the chattering birds. By this time Raju had also learnt their language and had started communicating with the birds; some of them had even become his friends and had even started perching on his shoulders.

The merchant asked, ‘in which direction did the learned man, go? Raju said, ‘Well, he went towards the east.’

‘What is your name young man?’ Asked the Merchant.

‘Sahib my name is Raju.’ He replied.

‘What do you do Raju?’ Asked the Merchant.

‘Sahib, I feed birds and I also communicate with them.’

‘What else can you do Raju?’ Asked the merchant.

‘Since I can’t walk properly I can’t go anywhere so I can’t do much.’ Replied Raju.

‘Then spend some time next to the river every day. The flowing river that has seen the world will teach you so many things.’ Said the Merchant after which he left.

The next morning Raju went and sat on the riverbank. After a while, he saw a boat passing from there. It was heading towards the south. Raju loudly asked the boatman, ‘where are you going?’ The boatman replied, ‘towards the sea where all the rivers meet the sea.’

The next day Raju saw another boat heading in the opposite direction. He asked the boatman, ‘where are you going?’ The boatman replied, ‘towards the north where all the mountains reside.’ Raju thought, so what if he can’t walk, he can at least see places by sailing in a boat as his hands were perfectly fine. Soon, he sold a piece of his land out of his small holding and bought a small boat and became a boatman. He started sailing towards the north and south the two directions of the river. He even started taking the villagers across the river and with that he once again became relevant in their lives and started drawing respect from them.

After some time, one day, Raju saw the learned person and the merchant arriving at the riverbank together. They wanted to cross the river. They recognised Raju and asked what he was doing in that boat. Raju explained that he had now become a boatman. He thanked the learned man for his good advice because of which he learned to talk to the birds that made innumerable friends. He even thanked the Merchant for motivating him to sit near the river that gave him the idea of becoming a boatman as his hands were fit enough to row the boat, even when, he could not walk normally and because of this he could see innumerable places and once again become relevant in the lives of the villagers.

The merchant said never leave the company of a learned man. I lost the learned man once yet I followed him and met you instead, Raju. You told me he has gone towards the east and I followed him there where I found him. So never leave the company of a Wiseman.

‘Yes, said Raju, bright ideas come only from intelligent people. The learned sahib only showed me the way. He asked me to befriend the chattering birds instead of human beings that taught me how to respectfully live without the villagers, and you, respected merchant, showed me how to go places, even without, proper legs. There isn’t a greater asset than an intelligent company. Great ideas come from intelligent people only. Now can I take you both across the river?’ Asked Raju. ‘Yes of course.’ Replied the two.

Written by Kamlesh Tripathi

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

Share it if you like it

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 that includes both children and adults and it has a huge variety in terms of content. We also accept donations for our mission. 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

(The book is about a young cancer patient. Now archived in 8 prestigious libraries of the US that includes Harvard College Library; Harvard University Library; Library of Congress; University of Washington, Seattle; University of Minnesota, Minneapolis; Yale University, New Haven; University of Chicago; University of North Carolina, at Chapel Hill University Libraries. It can also be accessed in MIT through Worldcat.org. Besides, it is also available for reading in libraries and archives of Canada, Cancer Aid and Research Foundation Mumbai; Jaipuria Institute of Management, Noida; India. Shoolini University, Yogananda Knowledge Center, Himachal Pradesh and Azim Premzi University, Bangalore).

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

(Is a book on ‘singlehood’ about a Delhi girl now archived in Connemara Library, Chennai and Delhi Public Library, GOI, Ministry of Culture, Delhi; Available for reading in Indian National Bibliography, March 2016, in the literature section, in Central Reference Library, Ministry of Culture, India, Belvedere, Kolkata-700022)

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

(Is a fiction written around the great city of Nawabs—Lucknow. It describes Lucknow in great detail and also talks about its Hindu-Muslim amity. That happens to be the undying characteristics of Lucknow. The book was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival of 2014. It is included for reading in Askews and Holts Library Services, Lancashire, U.K; Herrick District Library, Holland and Charlotte-Mecklenburg Library, Mecklenburg County in North Carolina, USA; Black Gold Cooperative Library Administration, Arroyo Grande, California).

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. It was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival 2016)

TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN

(Is a story of an Indian salesman who is, humbly qualified. Yet he fights his ways through unceasing uncertainties to reach the top. A good read not only for salesmen. The book was launched on 10^th February, 2018 in Gorakhpur Lit-Fest. Now available in Amazon, Flipkart and Onlinegatha)

RHYTHM … in poems

(Published in January 2019. The book contains 50 poems. The poems describe our day to day life. The book is available in Amazon, Flipkart and Onlinegatha)

MIRAGE

(Published in February 2020. The book is a collection of eight short stories available in Amazon, Flipkart and Notion Press)

Short stories, Book reviews and Articles published in Bhavan’s Journal: 1.Reality and Perception, 15.10.19; 2.Sending the Wrong Message, 31.5.20; 3. Eagle versus Scholars June, 15 & 20 2020; 4. Indica, 15.8.20; 5. The Story of King Chitraketu, August 31 2020; 6. Breaking Through the Chakravyuh, September 30 2020. 7. The Questioning Spouse, October 31, 2020; 8. Happy Days, November 15, 2020; 9. The Karma Cycle of Paddy and Wheat, December 15, 2020; 10. Power Vs Influence, January 31, 2021; 11. Three Refugees, March 15, 2021; 12. Rise and Fall of Ajatashatru, March 31, 2021; 13. Reformed Ruler, May 15, 2021; 14. A Lasting Name, May 31, 2021; 15. Are Animals Better Teachers?, June 16, 2021; 16. Book Review: The Gram Swaraj, 1.7.21; 17. Right Age for Achievements, 15.7.21; 18. Big Things Have Small Beginnings, 15.8.21; 19. Where is Gangaridai?, 15.9.21; 20. Confront the Donkey Within You 30.9.21; 21. Know Your Strengths 15.10.21; 22. Poverty 15.11.21; 23. Top View 30.11.21; 24. The Bansuriwala 15.1.22; 25. Sale of Alaska 15.2.22; 26. The Dimasa Kingdom 28.2.22; 27. Buried Treasure 15.4.22; 28. The Kingdom of Pragjyotisha 30.4.22; 29. Who is more useful? 15.5.22; 30. The White Swan from Lake Mansarovar 30.6.22;

(ALL THE ABOVE BOOK TITLES ARE AVAILABLE FOR SALE IN AMAZON, FLIPKART AND OTHER ONLINE STORES OR YOU COULD EVEN WRITE TO US FOR A COPY)

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THE MORNING BLISS

February 14, 2021article, beautiful lines, columnbirds, clouds, dogs, early morning, formation, global warming, human atrocities, kamlesh tripathi, morning, morning walk, republic day parade, river, shravan charity mission, sun riseshravancharitymission

Each morning as I go and sit along the free flowing river under the old Banyan tree I get this tranquil feel of how little it takes for a man to smile. It’s just like that proverbial ‘stone soup’ that fills your stomach even without too any ingredients. But the situation reverses when I reach my workplace, where, even a smirk becomes a task.

The water is cold, just as cold as the human beings of today even when the globe is warming up. One can now see the redness in the sky announcing the arrival of the sun that is duty bound to give me light and energy. He is my old friend who comes to meet me daily in the morning, barring those cloudy days. A Few patches of dark clouds, semaphore from the sky about the arriving rain, realizing water on earth is only getting scarce. The birds around, up-tempo their melodious chorus, before the blasting car horns, beat their retreat.

The river has a long journey to undertake. It has to meet the sea. Post which it’ll lose its identity. Yet it is calm, barring its routine splashes that hit the shores too often, that too, as a semblance of prothalamiun. The embankment is still, unmoved, even when, some stray dogs are yawning, stretching and occasionally yelping. Early risers, for a longer and healthier life, are out, for their morning walks and jogs. There is harmonious silence all around when one can hear the nature talking to you. It is my time to drench in her and her time to drench in me. Some birds, in formation, appearing like arrows in the sky, about twenty in number are crossing the river. No one knows where they are coming from and where they are heading to. They appear to be in a great hurry. Nevertheless, they are giving an excellent fly-past, reminding you of the Republic-day-Parade. One can distinctly hear their calls but can’t make out what they are saying. Perhaps, discussing about, human atrocities.

Many things in my life have become routine. But not this daily setting. Where, I come and perch everyday, as it unshackles me from the enduring shackles of life for some measurable and memorable moments. Otherwise, there is always so much to worry, so little time to rejoice, so much to plan and all the more to execute. But for the present everything is set aside as it is my divine time that refreshes me to take on the grueling day, and mind you I haven’t spent a penny for it. But as the axiom of life tinkles, all good things, have to come to an end, and so does the morning.

Slowly, I start walking back, as the sun begins to tower up. Morning, and the remaining day are two different worlds. And, only the ones who have experienced it, know about it.

By Kamlesh Tripathi

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

Share it if you like it

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

Our Publications

GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE

(The book is about a young cancer patient. Now archived in 8 prestigious libraries of the US that includes Harvard College Library; Harvard University Library; Library of Congress; University of Washington, Seattle; University of Minnesota, Minneapolis; Yale University, New Haven; University of Chicago; University of North Carolina, at Chapel Hill University Libraries. It can also be accessed in MIT through Worldcat.org. Besides, it is also available for reading in libraries and archives of Canada, Cancer Aid and Research Foundation Mumbai and Jaipuria Institute of Management, Noida, India)

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN

RHYTHM … in poems

(Published in January 2019. The book contains 50 poems. The poems describe our day to day life. The book is available in Amazon, Flipkart and Onlinegatha)

MIRAGE

(Published in February 2020. The book is a collection of eight short stories available in Amazon, Flipkart and Notion Press)

Short stories and Articles published in Bhavan’s Journal: Reality and Perception, 15.10.19; Sending the Wrong Message, 31.5.20; Eagle versus Scholars June, 15 & 20 2020; Indica, 15.8.20; The Story of King Chitraketu, August 31 2020; Breaking Through the Chakravyuh, September 30 2020. The Questioning Spouse, October 31, 2020; Happy Days, November 15, 2020; The Karma Cycle of Paddy and Wheat, December 15,2020; Power Vs Influence, January 31, 2021;

(ALL THE ABOVE TITLES ARE AVAILABLE FOR SALE IN AMAZON, FLIPKART AND OTHER ONLINE STORES OR YOU COULD EVEN WRITE TO US FOR A COPY)

*****

MORNING WALK

January 18, 2021Uncategorizedbrisk walking, clod, dogs, foggy, kamlesh tripathi, morning walk, river, shravan charity mission, summersshravancharitymission

It is six in the morning. The weather stands like the brutal debacle, waiting to happen. It is windy and close to pitch dark, numb, and of course freezing. Foggy enough to fog anyone’s senses. The teasing breeze has only intensified. The chill is now around six degrees—as I can see in my mobile. The streets are still barren. The amber streetlight round the corner is still glowing full bright. It has a sharp halo around it. In the backdrop of which, one can see the improvised screen of the cascading dew that looks so beautiful, yet frightful, to even touch.

There aren’t any dogs in sight like in summers, for a change. Nor can I hear mild growls, from any of the hidings around. I have now paced up my steps to beat the chill. I can see a few newspaper walas on their bicycles, along with a few milk vendors racing up and down with their milk-cans to service on time. Everyone has a working world of his own. Some call it a career and some even a profession that God mandates. My walking track, is now laid out for the next one hour. Some priests … along the roadside temples, have just about woken up their God’s … So they think. In ten minutes of brisk walking I have reached the embankment of the sedate river. It is calm and away from the tantrums of the unruly gale.

I look back … knowing well enough, no one is following me. Except for, the chilly wind, and that too, in the dark. Though my mind is in a slouch. Body is feeling energetic. Just then I am able to figure out the first ray of the daylight that has breached the horizon to announce the dawn. This is when I hear the chatter of a few birds. I can also see a dishevelled crow perched on an electric pole, cawing away to glory. Suddenly I feel animated. A speeding car is now in sight. I’m sure. The driver of which must be feeling like a VIP with no traffic signals directing him to stop. Some street urchins are up by now. They are gearing up for the rough day ahead, with their little knick-knacks. The redness of the sun is now in sight. It has painted the skyline red. But I fear. It might soon be overshadowed by the sulking winter clouds.

The needs of the world are so strange. What one adores in winters is the sun and what one adores in summers is the shade. Conversely, what one hates in the summers is the sun and what one hates in the winters is the shade. Nothing is constant. Where, only the magic of time rules. But then time has strange ways. The warmth of the sun is now in the air. I welcome it with open arms as I slowly begin with my routine calisthenics as I keep moving. My mind is now beyond the freeze for the first time in the morning. For light brightens you up and light freshens you up.

I am past the river embankment now. It has flowed all night gallantly. It never stops, just like time. I am more than the half way mark now. Stray thoughts are now all over me. But superseding all of it is the thought of work. Till you’re alive there will be work to do. It will never leave you. So continue doing something or the other, even if you don’t have enough to do. For life is all about karma and without karma there is no life. And it is about time to kick-off the day.

Written by Kamlesh Tripathi

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

Share it if you like it

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

Our publications

GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE

(The book is about a young cancer patient. Now archived in 8 prestigious libraries of the US that includes Harvard College Library; Harvard University Library; Library of Congress; University of Washington, Seattle; University of Minnesota, Minneapolis; Yale University, New Haven; University of Chicago; University of North Carolina, at Chapel Hill University Libraries. It can also be accessed in MIT through Worldcat.org. Besides, it is also available for reading in libraries and archives of Canada, Cancer Aid and Research Foundation Mumbai and Jaipuria Institute of Management, Noida, India)

ONE TO TANGO … RIA’S ODYSSEY

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN

RHYTHM … in poems

(Published in January 2019. The book contains 50 poems. The poems describe our day to day life. The book is available in Amazon, Flipkart and Onlinegatha)

MIRAGE

(Published in February 2020. The book is a collection of eight short stories available in Amazon, Flipkart and Notion Press)

(ALL THE ABOVE TITLES ARE AVAILABLE FOR SALE IN AMAZON, FLIPKART AND OTHER ONLINE STORES OR YOU COULD EVEN WRITE TO US FOR A COPY)

*****

INTERESTING FACTS FIGURES & QUOTES–41

November 8, 2019Uncategorizedadelaide, aswan dam, australian height datum, bhutan, china, colorado, crops, dam, dr lotay tshering, egypt, flow, hoover dam, hummingbird, irrigate, iucn, john eyre, kalidasa, kamlesh tripathi, kati thanda, lake eyre, nile, pm bhutan, prionailurus rubiginosus, river, rusty-spotted cat, shravancharitymission, sri lanka, water, yangtze rivershravancharitymission

HOW DO DAMS WORK?

A dam is a structure built across a river to control its flow. Sometimes a reservoir or lake is created behind the dam and can be used for recreation. Water flow controlled by a dam may be used to supply water to nearby communities, to power a hydroelectric plant, or to irrigate crops.

Dams can be built in different designs, and of different materials such as earth, rock, or concrete. Most large dams are made of concrete. They are often designed to arch toward the incoming flow of water, a design that provides additional strength and distributes the weight of the water to the ends of the dam.

Dams typically have a valve, built in, to allow operators to release excess water from the upstream side. They also have spill-ways to release larger amounts of water in order to prevent unwanted flooding.

Dam building—as in the case of the construction of Aswan Dam in the late 19^th century on river Nile in Egypt or of China’s Three Gorges Dam on Yangtze River built in the 20^th century—at times, floods, land, that has importance economically, culturally, or even as a wildlife habitat. Dams must be designed to withstand the challenge of floods or earthquakes. Enormous damage can occur when a major dam breaks, often including loss of life.

HOOVER DAM on river Colorado US withstands pressures up to 45,000 pounds per square foot and generates over four billion kilowatt-hours of power a year.

Lake Eyre is officially known as Kati Thanda. Lake Eyre, is located at the lowest natural point in Australia, at approximately 15 m (49 ft) below sea level (as per Australian Height Datum). On rare occasions when it fills up, it is the largest lake in Australia, covering 9,500 km2 (3,668 sq miles). The shallow endorheic lake is the depocentre of the vast Lake Eyre basin and is found in Northern South Australia, some 700 km (435 miles) north of Adelaide.

When the lake is full, it has the same salinity level as the sea, but as the lake dries up and the water evaporates, salinity increases.

The lake was named by Europeans in honour of Edward John Eyre, who was the first European to see it, in 1840. The lake’s official name was changed in December 2012 to combine the name “Lake Eyre” with its indigenous name, Kati Thanda.

There are only three surgeons to look after elective and emergency surgeries in Jigme Dorji Wangchuk National Referral Hospital (JDWNRH) the only tertiary care hospital in Bhutan. They literally work 24×7, 7 days a week.

But that is not all. For they have another ‘honorary standby surgeon’—the Prime Minister of Bhutan himself, who comes to the hospital every week on Friday to operate. Though he is trained in urology, he can do all abdominal surgeries ‘as there is no one else.’

If there is an emergency or a difficult problem, just ‘call the PM’.

He comes even if it’s midnight. The nursing staff is pretty happy to help their PM in conducting operations. No hang ups. Just normal scrubs and slippers for him.

Kudos to ‘Dr Lotay Tshering—the Surgeon Prime Minister of Bhutan.’

The Rusty-Spotted Cat (Prionailurus rubiginosus) wins the title for the world’s smallest wild cat weighing a mere 1.8-3.5 lbs (0.8-1.6 kg)and is 14 to 19 inches (35 to 48 cm) in length (not counting the tail which is half the size of the body). This feline has short grey fur, over, most of its body with rusty spots over its back and flanks, from where it derives its name. Their underbellies are white with large dark spots and they have six dark streaks on each side of their head, extending over their cheeks and forehead.

The Rusty-Spotted Cat, known as the “hummingbird of the cat family”, is only found in India and Sri Lanka. There are 10,000 Rusty-Spotted Cats in the wild and the species is listed as Vulnerable by the IUCN. Like other wild cats, the Rusty-Spotted Cat is on the decline mostly due to habitat loss and hunting pressures.

Yesterday is but a dream. Tomorrow is only a vision. But today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness, and every tomorrow a vision of hope—said famous poet Kalidasa.

By Kamlesh Tripathi

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

Share it if you like it

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

Our publications

GLOOM BEHIND THE SMILE

(The book is about a young cancer patient. Now 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

(Is a book on ‘singlehood’ about a Delhi girl now archived in Connemara Library, Chennai and Delhi Public Library, GOI, Ministry of Culture, Delhi)

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

(Is a fiction written around the great city of Nawabs—Lucknow. It describes Lucknow in great detail and also talks about its Hindu-Muslim amity. That happens to be its undying characteristic. The book was launched in Lucknow International Literary Festival of 2014)

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN

RHYTHM … in poems

(Published in January 2019. The book contains 50 poems. The poems describe our day to day life. The book is available in Amazon, Flipkart and Onlinegatha)

(ALL THE ABOVE TITLES ARE AVAILABLE FOR SALE IN AMAZON, FLIPKART AND OTHER ONLINE STORES OR YOU COULD EVEN WRITE TO US FOR A COPY)

*****

SHORT STORY: TEN FOOLS

April 17, 2019fable, moral lesson, parable, parables, short story, snippet, story, storytelling, Uncategorized10, five, fools, forest, four, friends, kamlesh tripathi, know yourself, moral, mountain, one, parable, river, satire, shravancharitymission, six, ten, three, twoshravancharitymission

We spend a lot of time in knowing about others. But we hardly spend time, in knowing about our own ourselves. The reason is very simple, because we always think we know ourselves inside out. But the reality is quite the reverse. The story below is a satire on this very thought process.

Once there were ten friends who had embarked upon an adventure. They Crossed rivers, scaled mountains, traversed across forests, and finally they arrived in open fields. When suddenly one screamed. ‘O my God, one of us is missing. We started off as ten and now there are only nine.’ They hurriedly sat in a circle, and started counting, and then started crying for the missing tenth. Once again, the first counted each one and wailed loudly as he reached the ninth. Number one was on his left and number nine was on his right. Where was the tenth? The second did the same and so did the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth and the ninth … but the tenth was nowhere to be seen. They all kept crying till a wise man pointed out that each one counted everyone, except himself.

The moral of the story is, in this busy and crowded world keep good track of yourself, or you’ll get lost.

By Kamlesh Tripathi

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

Share it if you like it

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

(Is a book on ‘singlehood’ about a Delhi girl now archived in Connemara Library, Chennai and Delhi Public Library, GOI, Ministry of Culture, Delhi)

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN

RHYTHM … in poems

(Published in January 2019. The book contains 50 poems. The poems describe our day to day life. The book is available in Amazon, Flipkart and Onlinegatha)

(ALL THE ABOVE TITLES ARE AVAILABLE FOR SALE IN AMAZON, FLIPKART AND OTHER ONLINE STORES OR YOU COULD EVEN WRITE TO US FOR A COPY)

*****

SHORT STORY: The Monkey and the Crocodile

September 24, 2018ARTICLE SPIRITUAL, beautiful lines, book launch, book review, Book review and excerpts, book review, book synopsis, book synopsis, book talk, casual causerie, causerie, column, fiction, moral lesson, novel, parables, short story, snippet, spiritual, spiritual article, story, storytelling, Uncategorizedbirds, children's book, children's stories, crocodile, fables, fruits, kamlesh tripathi, monkey, panchatantra, parables, rabbit, river, shravancharitymission, tortoise, tree, vishnu sharmashravancharitymission

Khidki (Window)

–Read India Initiative—

This is only an attempt to create interest in reading. We may not get the time to read all the books in our lifetime. But such reviews, talk and synopsis will at least convey what the book is all about

The Monkey and The Crocodile

By Vishnu Sharma

Once upon a time, in a forest, there lived a monkey who resided on a jamoon (berry) tree, which was on the banks of a river. In the same forest, there lived a crocodile and his wife. One day the crocodile came to the banks of the river and rested under the tree. The kind-hearted monkey offered him some fruits. The crocodile came back the next day for more fruits as he loved them. As days passed by, the crocodile and the monkey became good friends.

One day the monkey sent some fruits for the crocodile’s wife. She ate the fruits and liked them. But became jealous as she didn’t like her husband spending time with the monkey. She told her husband, “If the fruits are so juicy, I wonder how sweet the monkey’s heart would be. Get me the heart of the monkey.” The crocodile was not willing to kill his friend but had no choice.

He invited the monkey to his house for dinner and said that his wife would like to meet him. The monkey was happy but couldn’t swim, so the crocodile took him on his back. The crocodile was happy that he had tricked the monkey, however, while talking he blurted out the real reason for taking the monkey home. The clever monkey said, “You should have told me earlier, I left my heart on the tree. We must go back and get it.” The crocodile believed and took him back to the tree. The clever monkey saved his life.

Moral of The Story: Choose your company wisely and always have a presence of mind.

Synopsis by Kamlesh Tripathi

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

Share it if you like it

Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases especially cancer. We maintain this blog for the pleasure of our readers. 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

(Is a book on ‘singlehood’ about a Delhi girl now archived in Connemara Library, Chennai and Delhi Public Library, GOI, Ministry of Culture, Delhi)

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN

(ALL THE ABOVE TITLES ARE AVAILABLE FOR SALE IN AMAZON, FLIPKART AND OTHER ONLINE STORES OR YOU COULD EVEN WRITE TO US FOR A COPY)

*****

BOOK TALK: KALIGRAM–1891 by Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore

September 20, 2018article, articles, beautiful lines, book launch, book review, Book review and excerpts, book review, book synopsis, book synopsis, book talk, book talk,, causerie, column, short article, short story, snippet, story, Uncategorizedbengal, boatmen, english, fish, fishing, gurudev, india, kaligram, kamlesh tripathi, nobel, rabindra nath tagore, river, sea, shravan charity mission, village, villagershravancharitymission

Khidki (Window)

–Read India Initiative—

KALIGRAM 1891

By Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore

When Gurudev was young he had written many letters that later on got published as a book, after they were translated into English. In these letters Gurudev has mostly described a village scene in Bengal. He calls letter writing a form of literary extravagance. These letters have now become part of his published works. Kaligram 1891 happens to be once such letter and below is the synopsis of this letter.

I am feeling listlessly comfortable and delightfully irresponsible. (Perhaps that gives him time to indulge in letter writing). This is the prevailing mood all around here. There is a river here. But it has no current to speak of. And is merely lying, snugly tucked up in its coverlet of floating weeds. Perhaps, it seems to think—‘since it is possible to get on without getting along. Why should I bestir myself to stir?’ The sentence has a deep meaning. The edge that lines the bank knows hardly of any disturbance until the fishermen come with their nets.

There are four or five large size boats moored nearby. They are floating alongside. On the upper deck of one, the boatman is fast asleep. He is rolled up in a sheet from head to foot. On another, the boatman—while basking in the sun—is leisurely twirling some yarn into rope. And on the lower deck of another boat there is an oldish looking bare bodied fellow leaning over an oar, staring vacantly at our boat. God knows why.

All along the bank there are various other people. But why they come and why they go, with the slowest of idle steps, or remain seated in their haunches embracing their knees, or keep on gazing at nothing in particular, no one can guess.

The only signs of activity that one gets to see are the ducks. Who quacking clamorously, thrust their heads under and then bob up again to shake off water with equal energy. It appears as if they repeatedly tried to explore the mysteries below the surface, and every time, shaking their heads, had to report. ‘Nothing there! Nothing there!’

The days drowse all their twelve hours in the sun. and then silently sleep away the other twelve, wrapped in the mantle of darkness. The only thing you want to do in a place like this is, to gaze and gaze on the landscape, swinging your fancies to and fro, alternately humming a tune and nodding dreamily, as the mother on a winter’s noonday, with her back to the sun, rocks and croons her baby to sleep.

***

Synopsis by Kamlesh Tripathi

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

Share it if you like it

Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases especially cancer. 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

(Is a book on ‘singlehood’ about a Delhi girl now archived in Connemara Library, Chennai and Delhi Public Library, GOI, Ministry of Culture, Delhi)

AADAB LUCKNOW … FOND MEMORIES

REFRACTIONS … FROM THE PRISM OF GOD

TYPICAL TALE OF AN INDIAN SALESMAN

(ALL THE ABOVE TITLES ARE AVAILABLE FOR SALE IN AMAZON, FLIPKART AND OTHER ONLINE STORES OR YOU COULD EVEN WRITE TO US FOR A COPY)

*****

BOOK TALK: THE HAPPY PRINCE– By Oscar Wilde

February 6, 2018article, article on feedback, book launch, book review, book synopsis, column, short article, short story, snippet, storybird, city, councillor, drop, egypt, europe, happy, mayor, Oscar Wilde, prince, pyramid, rain, reed, river, sapphire, seamstress, swallow, the happy princeshravancharitymission

Khidki (Window)

–Read India Read–

THE HAPPY PRINCE

Oscar Wilde

Some souls think of others even after death and some don’t even while they are alive. Many of you may have read this beautiful story some time back. Nevertheless, let me narrate it for you, once again.

Long ago, there lived a ‘Happy Prince’ whose statue was placed on a tall column in the city, at a height for all the citizens to see and admire. The statue was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold. And for the eyes, it had two bright sapphires with a large ruby glowed on to the sword-hilt.

As a prince he was greatly loved and revered by the Mayor and even by the town councillors. His sobriquet as ‘happy prince’ had become so famous that there was seldom a passer by, who did not appreciably comment on the statue. For example:

‘Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince?’ asked a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the moon. ‘The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything.’

One night there flew into the city a little Swallow. Whose friends had gone off to Egypt some six weeks before, but he had stayed behind. For, he was in love with the most beautiful Reed. Whom, he had met early in the spring when he was flying down the river, after a big yellow moth. Since then he had been attracted by her slender waist and he had stopped to converse with her.

But since the Swallow did not get proper response from the Reed he too decided to leave for Egypt to see the Pyramids. All day long he flew, and in the night he arrived at the city. Where, he was looking for a place to settle down when he saw the statue of the ‘Happy Prince’ on the tall column and alighted just between the feet of the statue.

‘I have a golden bedroom,’ he chirped. And then looked around and prepared to sleep. But as he was putting his head under his wings, a large drop of water fell on him. That got him curious. As there was not a single cloud in the sky and all the stars were twinkling.

Then another drop fell.

‘What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?’ he said; ‘I must look for a good chimney-pot,’ and he determined to fly away.

But before he could even open his wings, a third drop fell. When he looked up, and saw – Ah! what did he see?

The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears that were running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.

‘Who are you?’ he asked.

‘I am the Happy Prince.’

‘Why are you weeping then?’ asked the Swallow.

‘When I was alive and had a human heart,’ answered the statue, ‘I did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans-Souci where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the daytime I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I died. And now that I am dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot choose but weep.’

‘What, is he not solid gold?’ murmured the Swallow to himself.

‘Far away’ continued the statue in a low musical voice, ‘in a little street there is a poor house. One of the windows is open, and through it I can see a woman seated at a table. Her face is thin and worn, and she has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the needle, for she is a seamstress. She is embroidering passion-flowers on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queen’s maids-of-honour to wear at the next Court-ball. In a bed in the corner of the room her little boy is lying ill. He has a fever, and is asking for oranges. His mother has nothing to give him but river water, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you not bring her the ruby out of my sword-hilt? My feet are fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move.’

‘I am waited for in Egypt,’ said the Swallow.

‘Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,’ said the Prince, ‘will you not stay with me for one night, and be my messenger? The boy is so thirsty, and the mother so sad.

The Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow felt sorry. ‘It is very cold here,’ he said ‘but I will stay with you for one night, and be your messenger.’

‘Thank you, little Swallow,’ said the Prince.

So the Swallow plucked the great ruby from the Prince’s sword, and flew away with it, in his beak over the roofs of the town.

He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels were sculptured. He passed over the river and various other places. At last he came to the poor house and looked in. The boy was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she was so tired. In he hopped, and laid the great ruby on the table beside the woman’s thimble. Then he flew gently round the bed, fanning the boy’s forehead with his wings. ‘How cool I feel,’ said the boy, ‘I must be getting better;’ and he sank into a delicious slumber.

Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what he had done. ‘It is curious,’ he remarked, ‘but I feel quite warm now, although it is so cold.’

‘That is because you have done a good action,’ said the Prince. And the little Swallow began to think, and then he fell asleep.

When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath.

‘To-night I go to Egypt,’ said the Swallow, and he was in high spirits at the prospect.

When the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince. ‘Have you any commissions for Egypt?’ he cried; ‘I am just starting.’

‘Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,’ said the Prince, ‘will you not stay with me one night longer?’

‘I am waited for in Egypt,’ answered the Swallow.

‘Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,’ said the Prince, ‘far away across the city I see a young man in a garret. He is leaning over a desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch of withered violets. His hair is brown and crisp, and his lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish a play for the Director of the Theatre, but he is too cold to write any more. There is no fire in the grate, and hunger has made him faint.’

‘I will wait with you one night longer,’ said the Swallow, who really had a good heart. ‘Shall I take him another ruby?’

‘Alas! I have no ruby now,’ said the Prince; ‘my eyes are all that I have left. They are made of rare sapphires, which were brought out of India a thousand years ago. Pluck out one of them and take it to him. He will sell it to the jeweller, and buy food and firewood, and finish his play.’

‘Dear Prince,’ said the Swallow,’I cannot do that;’ and he began to weep.

‘Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,’ said the Prince, ‘do as I command you.’

So the Swallow plucked out the Prince’s eye, and flew away to the student’s garret. It was easy enough to get in, as there was a hole in the roof. Through this he darted, and came into the room. The young man had his head buried in his hands, so he did not hear the flutter of the bird’s wings, and when he looked up he found the beautiful sapphire lying on the withered violets.

‘I am beginning to be appreciated,’ he cried; ‘this is from some great admirer. Now I can finish my play,’ and he looked quite happy.

The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbour. He sat on the mast of a large vessel and watched the sailors hauling big chests out of the hold with ropes. ‘Heave a-hoy!’ they shouted as each chest came up. ‘I am going to Egypt!’ cried the Swallow, but nobody minded, and when the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince.

‘I have come to bid you good-bye,’ he cried.

‘Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,’ said the Prince,’will you not stay with me one night longer?’

‘It is winter,’ answered the Swallow, and the chill snow will soon be here. In Egypt the sun is warm. My companions are building a nest in the Temple. Dear Prince, I must leave you, but I will never forget you, and next spring I will bring you back two beautiful jewels in place of those you have given away. The ruby shall be redder than a red rose, and the sapphire shall be as blue as the great sea.

‘In the square below,’ said the Happy Prince, ‘there stands a little match-girl. She has let her matches fall in the gutter, and they are all spoiled. Her father will beat her if she does not bring home some money, and she is crying. She has no shoes or stockings, and her little head is bare. Pluck out my other eye, and give it to her, and her father will not beat her.

‘I will stay with you one night longer,’ said the Swallow, ‘but I cannot pluck out your eye. You would be quite blind then.’

‘Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow,’ said the Prince, ‘do as I command you.’

So he plucked out the Prince’s other eye, and darted down with it. He swooped past the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm of her hand. ‘What a lovely bit of glass,’ cried the little girl; and she ran home, laughing.

Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. ‘You are blind now,’ he said, ‘so I will stay with you always.’

‘No, little Swallow,’ said the poor Prince, ‘you must go away to Egypt.’

‘I will stay with you always,’ said the Swallow, and he slept at the Prince’s feet.

All the next day he sat on the Prince’s shoulder, and told him stories of what he had seen in strange lands. He told him of the red ibises, who stand in long rows on the banks of the Nile, and catch gold fish in their beaks; of the Sphinx, who is as old as the world itself, and lives in the desert, and knows everything; of the merchants, who walk slowly by the side of their camels, and carry amber beads in their hands; of the King of the Mountains of the Moon, who is as black as ebony, and worships a large crystal; of the great green snake that sleeps in a palm-tree, and has twenty priests to feed it with honey-cakes; and of the pygmies who sail over a big lake on large flat leaves, and are always at war with the butterflies.

‘Dear little Swallow,’ said the Prince, ‘you tell me of marvellous things, but more marvellous than anything is the suffering of men and of women. There is no Mystery so great as Misery. Fly over my city, little Swallow, and tell me what you see there.’

So the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw the rich making merry in their beautiful houses, while the beggars were sitting at the gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starving children looking out listlessly at the black streets. Under the archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one another’s arms to try and keep themselves warm. ‘How hungry we are’ they said. ‘You must not lie here,’ shouted the Watchman, and they wandered out into the rain.

Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen.

‘I am covered with fine gold,’ said the Prince, ‘you must take it off, leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the living always think that gold can make them happy.’

Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey. Leaf after leaf of the fine gold he brought to the poor, and the children’s faces grew rosier, and they laughed and played games in the street. ‘We have bread nod’ they cried.

Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost. The streets looked as if they were made of silver, they were so bright and glistening; long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves of the houses, everybody went about in furs, and the little boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the ice.

The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not leave the Prince, he loved him too well. He picked up crumbs outside the baker’s door when the baker was not looking, and tried to keep himself warm by flapping his wings.

But at last he knew that he was going to die. He had just strength to fly up to the Prince’s shoulder once more.’Good-bye, dear Prince!’ he murmured, ‘will you let me kiss your hand?’

‘I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow,’ said the Prince, ‘you have stayed too long here; but you must kiss me on the lips, for I love you.’

‘It is not to Egypt that I am going, ‘ said the Swallow. I am going to the House of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is he not?’

And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at his feet.

At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue, as if something had broken. The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped right in two. It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost.

Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the square below in company with the Town Councillors. As they passed the column he looked up at the statue: ‘Dear me! how shabby the Happy Prince looks!’ he said.

‘How shabby indeed!’ cried the Town Councillors, who always agreed with the Mayor, and they went up to look at it.

‘The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is golden no longer,’ said the Mayor; ‘in fact, he is little better than a beggar!’

‘Little better than a beggar,’ said the Town Councillors.

‘And there is actually a dead bird at his feet,’ continued the Mayor. ‘We must really issue a proclamation that birds are not to be allowed to die here.’ And the Town Clerk made a note of the suggestion.

So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince. ‘As he is no longer beautiful he is no longer useful,’ said the Art Professor at the University.

Then they melted the statue in a furnace, and the Mayor held a meeting of the Corporation to decide what was to be done with the metal. ‘We must have another statue, of course,’ he said, ‘and it shall be a statue of myself.’

‘Of myself,’ said each of the Town Councillors, and they quarrelled. When I last heard of them they were quarrelling still.

‘What a strange thing!’ said the overseer of the workmen at the foundry.’This broken lead heart will not melt in the furnace. We must throw it away.’ So they threw it on a dust-heap where the dead Swallow was also lying.

‘Bring me the two most precious things in the city,’ said God to one of His Angels; and the Angel brought Him the leaden heart and the dead bird.

‘You have rightly chosen,’ said God, ‘for in my garden of Paradise this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in my city of gold the Happy Prince shall praise me.’

*****

By Kamlesh Tripathi

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

Share it 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)

*****

THE FREEZING WINTER MORNING

January 6, 2018article, ARTICLE SPIRITUAL, articles, causerie, column, interesting facts, lifestyle article, short article, short srticle, short story, snippet, spiritual, spiritual article, story, Uncategorizedbirds, chatter, cold, crow, dawn, exercise, fog, horizon, morning walk, priests, river, skyline, smog, snow, sunlight, sunrise, temples, wintershravancharitymission

–When I went for a morning walk in Delhi–

It is six in the morning. The weather stands like the gory debacle waiting to happen. It is windy and close to pitch dark, numb and of course freezing. Foggy enough to, fog anyone’s senses. The teasing breeze has only intensified the chill that is now around six degrees—as I can see in my mobile. The streets are still barren. The amber streetlight round the corner is still glowing full bright. It has a sharp halo around it. In the backdrop of which, one can see the improvised screen of the cascading dew that looks beautiful, yet frightful, to even touch. There aren’t any dogs in sight like in summers, for a change. Nor can I hear mild growls, from any of the hidings around.

I have now paced up my steps to beat the chill. I can see a few newspaper walas on their bicycles, along with a few milk vendors racing up and down with their milk-cans to reach on time. Everyone has a working world of his own. Some call it a career and some even a profession that God mandates. My walking track, is now laid out for the next one hour. Some priests … along the roadside temples, have just about woken up their God’s. So they think. In ten minutes of brisk walking I have reached the embankment of the sedate river. It is calm, and as if away, from the tantrums of the unruly gale.

Some street urchins are up by now. They were gearing up for the rough day ahead, with their little knick-knacks. The redness of the sun is now in sight. It has as if, painted the skyline red. But I fear. It might soon be overshadowed by the sulking winter clouds. The needs of the world are so strange. What one adores in winters is the sun and what one adores in summers is the shade. Conversely what one hates in the summers is the sun and what one hates in the winters is the shade. Nothing is constant. Where, only the magic of time rules. But then time has strange ways.

The warmth of the sun is now in the air. I welcome it with open arms. As I slowly begin with my routine calisthenics as I keep moving. My mind is now beyond the freeze for the first time in the morning. For light brightens you up and light freshens you up.

For life is all about karma and without karma there is no life. And it is about time to kick-off the day.

*****

By Kamlesh Tripathi

https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

Share it 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

(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)

*****

CONSCIENCE & CONFESSION

November 19, 2017article, article on crime, ARTICLE SPIRITUAL, causerie, column, short story, snippet, spiritual, spiritual article, Uncategorizedconfession, conscious, crime, hillock, juvenile delinquent, lake, meditation, morning walk, newspaper, park, police, police inspector, river, spiritual, tea stallshravancharitymission

It reminds me of a time when I used to go to a park every day, early in the morning. The place was still and quiet—reminding you of those dreaded words—pin drop silence. It was a long morning walk, from where I stayed and also mid-way for me. Where, I use to take a break. The park was located on the embankment of the river which was about twenty feet high from the river water and in between the two there was a steep 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 and handsome hillock that gave a great sense of scenic fulfillment.

All around, it was lush green, especially, during the monsoons. When, the water level at times used to rise and ripple past the edge of the gradient to enter the park. I normally sat there each day for about ten to fifteen minutes. Just for some meditation and introspection that refreshed me to take on the tough day ahead. I had relocated to the city some six months back as an Inspector in the Police Department. Out there. I also found many health freaks coming for morning walk. But some just to lollygag.

Close to the main gate of the park. There was also a small tea stall. I guess it grossed all its major revenues, early in the morning itself, while serving the morning walkers. Once in a while it also served hot pakodas that tasted deadly, with that hot dhaba 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 around the stall. Where, tea buffs often rushed through the headlines and exchanged informal barbs.

As a regular visitor I had started recognizing quite a few faces. Gradually, I even got to know the names of some. One out of them happened to be an old person. About whom I noticed, was normally quiet. One day the stall owner who knew, I was a police inspector, introduced me to him. His name was Robert.

In a matter of days I started interacting with him and referred to him as ‘uncle.’ He must have been around seventy. He spoke very less. But whenever he did, he was to the point. He was normally in his own world and nothing amused him.

Days passed as usual. One day he came up to me and asked,

‘Are you in the police?’

I said, ‘yes.’

‘Then, can you do me a favour?’

I said, ‘what favour?’ He looked at me for a while and said.

‘Many years back when I was young. While playing in this park I had a fight with my best friend and that unfortunately escalated. As a result of which I pushed him down the slope over there. He fell into the river. It was monsoon season. When, the river was in full spate and he was swept away, and never returned.’

‘So, then, did you tell the police, that you had pushed him?’

‘No.’

‘But why?’

‘Because I was scared I’ll be arrested. So the police registered a case of accident, that he didn’t know swimming so he drowned.’

‘So then, why are you telling me your story now and that too after so many years?’

‘After fifty years to be exact. To, clear my guilt or you could say conscience. Because, you’re in the police and if you want, you can arrest me now for the crime.’

‘But 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 you were the one who pushed his brother?’

‘A few years back I did tell her. She couldn’t bear the shock and expired 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 this he got up, picked his walking stick and started walking. Perhaps, he was heading home.

After the conversation a couple of days had passed. I had not seen Robert. One day when I reached the tea stall. I was informed by the stall owner that Robert had committed suicide. I was shocked at the news. Perhaps, he was preparing for it mentally when he told me about his act of crime. I attended his funeral where I even got to meet his two sons Richard and Simon.

Thereafter, I continued with my morning walk as usual. One day when I reached the tea stall. The owner gave me a sealed enveloped that Robert had left for me. I opened it. There was another sealed cover in it with the name and address of Richard in Australia with a request to send it across through a reliable courier. Which I did.

Robert after losing his wife couldn’t have taken a chance on his sons. But anyhow he wanted to confess about his crime to his children. Which he did after he was gone.

Moral of the story: Your conscience is the most long-lasting jury in you.

****

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

(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)

(CAN BE BOUGHT FROM ON LINE BOOK STORES OR WRITE TO US FOR COPIES)

*****

Shravan charity mission

Our NGO works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases especially cancer: We cover our blog with short stories, children's stories, articles, book reviews, vignettes, spiritual, episodes, poetry, analysis, news report, general knowledge, quotes for the benefit of our readers.

Tag Archives: river

SHORT STORY: BRIGHT IDEAS

THE MORNING BLISS

MORNING WALK

INTERESTING FACTS FIGURES & QUOTES–41

SHORT STORY: TEN FOOLS

SHORT STORY: The Monkey and the Crocodile

BOOK TALK: KALIGRAM–1891 by Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore

BOOK TALK: THE HAPPY PRINCE– By Oscar Wilde

THE FREEZING WINTER MORNING

CONSCIENCE & CONFESSION