My Musings

Yesterday I went to my cousin's place after a couple of months. He is blessed with two non-identical twins Anuttara and Shraddha. After chit-chatting with my SIL I was playing with the kids. The former came to me, held my hands and uttered, "Shruti (I won't expect respect from kids :-P), wait here.. we will show you some magic". Saying so, she murmured something in Shraddha's ears. The latter went inside the room and came with cards. Both of them gave me a broad smile and dragged the small table to the center of the room. When I started asking them about the work they are about to do, Shraddha told, "Hey Shruti hold your nerves, pack your curiosity for a few moments. Just sit and watch our magic". I was awed by their command and sat silently. My SIL giggled at me. I ignored her and watched these kids.

They started constructing a 3 storey building with the pack of 52 cards. They laid each cards so perfectly that it automatically attained the form of a perfect triangle. After giving some final touches, they turned towards me. Their eyes shone with curiosity and expectation. I let out a big WOW that they both got astonished with my reaction. Anuttara came near me and said, "Hey Shruti, bend down, I want to ask you something". I sat in the chair and she climbed a stool lying nearby to whisper in my ears. "How was it shruti? Tell me frankly. Don't try to convince us". I was completely moved listening to this. The reason is, I never expected such a matured speech from a 5 year old. I hugged her and gave a peck in her cheeks. I went near them and said, "Listen sweeties, I love what you have did and it is so beautiful. We will keep this as a monument. Ok?!". They clapped their hands and jumped in Joy.

My cousin came hurriedly into the room. He tripped on the small table and the cards were shattered. We both expected them to burst into tears, devastated by what had happened to all their hard work. My brother felt really bad and he broke down saying sorry. But they surprised us. Instead, of crying, they collected all the shattered cards. By laughing and holding hands, they went near him and uttered, "Its ok dad". They went into another room and started constructing the building again!

I realized that they had taught me an important lesson. All things in our life, all the complicated structures we spend so much time and energy creating, are built on card like things, which can shatter the moment a strong wind blows. Only our relationships to other people lasts. Sooner or later, something will pop up and knock down what we have worked so hard to build up. When that happens, only the person who has somebody's hand to hold will be able to laugh. The Power of Holding Hands of someone (Mother, father, sister, brother or it can be a friend too) have greater strength which can overcome any storm.

With Love,

Image Courtesy : Google Images

A story of Fate

I believe every relationship in this world is built upon Fate. Read the below story, and tell me whether you agree. Here is the story:

There was a scholar who was about to marry his fiancee. On the day of marriage, his fiancee changed her mind and married someone else. The scholar was devastated and fell ill. His family sought all kinds of medical treatment for him, but he didn't show any sign of recovery. They were about to give up hope on him when a wandering monk approached them. After learning about the scholar's condition, the monk went near the scholar's bed and took out a mirror from his bag and showed it to the scholar.

In the mirror, the scholar saw a vast ocean and the naked body of a woman, (murdered) lay on the beach. A man passed by, looked at the body, shook his head and left. Another man who passed by, saw the body, took off his robes to cover the body and left. Finally came a man passing by who saw the body, dug a hole and laid the body carefully to rest before burying it.

The scene in the mirror suddenly changed. The scholar saw his fiancee in a nuptial chamber and another man was lifting her wedding veil... The scholar blinked at the monk, confused. Slowly the monk explained, "The woman whose body you saw on the beach was your fiancee in her previous life. In your previous life, you were the second man who gave her his robes to cover her body. To repay your kindness in this lifetime, she loved you for a period of time and became your fiancee. However, ultimately the man whose favor she has to return for the rest of her life is the third man who buried her. And that man is now her husband.

Enlightened, the scholar sat up and recovered from his depression.

It is truly amazing -- this thing called "Fate". There was a movie in which the theme song went like this, I forgot the movie: "You can say it is a big world, you can say it is a small world. But for the promise of this lifetime, we shall spend our entire lives to fulfill."

All of us are in this big grand masquerade, among the throng of people, we seek expectantly in that electrifying moment when our fingers touch, the masks are removed to reveal our true selves. Before this moment, we were drifting aimlessly, not knowing what we really wanted. Till you meet this particular person, It can be your future partner or your friend, you finally realize what you really want is not what you have wished for in the first place. It amazes you that standing in front of this person is a different you! You without any mask!

Fate is not something meant to be forced upon. What is yours will eventually come to your arms; what is not yours will never come to be. In any case, we should not lose heart and give up on our hopes for love that is true, good and beautiful. The value of life, in a certain sense, is determined by the maturity of how we love. Of how we give and accept love.

Treasure what you have...
Time is too slow for those who wait;
Too swift for those who fear;
Too long for those who grief;
Too short for those who rejoice;
But for those who love everyone
Time is Eternity!

With Love,

Image Courtesy : Google Images

IF I WERE A BABY AGAIN

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 4; the fourth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

The whole day I was thinking and re-thinking about the topic. Yes, believe me, I never thought of writing a post for blog-a-ton. But Blog-a-ton Marshall Vipul, Shankz, Avada Kedavra wanted me to give a try. I said yes! But what to write? Almost by 6.30pm I got a vague idea and started writing at 8pm. Now let me go on to the topic. It is a story. Tell me at the end whether it is realistic. Now off to the story (that's what I think)..

I heard voices around me when I tried opening my eyes. But the luminescence was more and that prevented me from opening my eyes. Someone touched my hands, my face, my toes. I guess it should be my mom. I want to see my mom. I tried my level best to open my eyes so that I can see my mom. The moment I opened my eyes there was cheers all around me and I saw the prettiest woman, my mom. We were discharged from hospital and we came to our place. People were speaking around me in different languages. I didn't understand that. I started crying demanding some privacy. Suddenly a wailing sound at a distance ceased my tearses. It was another baby girl just like me. Wow, am blessed to have a friend in such a short duration. We both saw each other, giggled and waved. It has been 3 long days since I was born and now I feel like sleeping. (Note : The other baby girl, like me, was the little daughter of our maid)

After 2 weeks : Name giving ceremony

It was a joyous occasion. All our relatives came, lifted and kissed me. My mom was the happiest person in that hall. Priests have come and I was wearing a silk dress. My parents lifted me from the cradle and muttered the name "Akshara" in my ears 3 times. Oh... So my name is Akshara. Suddenly I remembered my friend and saw her sleeping in her mothers lap, silently. I was wondering about her beauty, that was when I heard faint weeping sound. I turned around to see who was that and spotted our maid weeping and telling her daughter "I wish you were not born"

After 4 months:

Now I can recognize faces very well and heard people telling that I am a princess to my parents. I was lying in a cushion, dressed in a soft material that my aunt presented me. Wow, I loved the Mickey and Goofy in my dress. I saw our maid coming near me and remembered my friend. Her parents christened her as Jecentha. Lovable name for the lovable girl. I saw her lying alone in the floor in a torn saree bit, dressed in rags. My mom was feeding me mashed apples and Cerelac. Jecentha was screaming at the top of her lungs indicating her mom that she is hungry.

After one year:

My parents threw a big party to all our friends and relatives for celebrating my birthday. I got so many gifts, dresses and soft toys. My tummy was full after having mashed potatoes, apples and Cerelac. Jecentha was happily eating the liquidated porridge, in the corner of the house. She was visibly happy after seeing the new dress she was wearing. She never knew that it was my old dress.

After two years:

I was engaging myself on the play-room (which had lots and lots of toys). From the window of my play-room I could see the kitchen where Jecentha would be sleeping/playing, at this hour. She was not allowed to enter my play-room. She beamed when her mom gave her two broken biscuits. She was contended playing with tumblers and spoons.

After 3 years:

I got admission in a premier school. My dad got me new books, pencils, snack-box, water bottle, bag, uniform, shoes and socks. A day before my reopening, my maid came crying, I went near her and asked "Aunty, what happened?". She was sobbing uncontrollably. My mom came and asked her the reason. Our maid replied that she fought with her husband. When my mom pestered her further for reasons, she told, she couldn't educate their younger daughter. Yes, Jecentha was their 4th daughter. Rest three were dropped outs. I never understood what she said. I asked her to bend down and I wiped her tears. She hugged me and left.

After 15 years:

I am having my board exams tomorrow. I was hovering on the fundamentals of Magnetism. Jecentha came with a glass of milk inside my room. She smiled warmly and gave me the milk. "What are you studying Akshara? Have this milk and read". I got it from her hand and said, "my exams are beginning tomorrow. Pray for me Jesse! You are my lucky charm". She smiled back and wished me good luck. Jecentha's mom refused to continue her studies when my dad offered sponsorship. Her mom told said, if Jesse studies, she can't find a suitable groom for her.

NOW (After 22 years):

Atlast we came to the present scenario. Yes people, am Akshara 22 years old. All these time you were reading about my life instances. There were some MISSES and many HITS in my life. Am working as a research scientist and planning to do my PhD in IISC or IIT. You may wonder about Jecentha. She is married and mom of 2! Her life was contrary to mine. She had some HITS and many, really too many MISSES.

You all may wonder where am heading to. What relation does this post have with the Blog-a-ton topic. Wait...

If I were a baby again, I would have shared all the pleasures I got in my life with Jecentha. I would have shared my food, my cushioned bed, Good-decent dresses, quality education to support herself and many more.. Wish I were a baby again.....

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

P.S : Thank You so much Vipul for permitting me even after 12 AM. Because of power-cut I couldn't submit my post on time. Kindly excuse and Thanks Shankar :)

With Love,

Image Courtesy : Google Images

Pride

I have tried my hand on writing another fiction. Completely different from whatever I have written till now.I would love to hear comments from you people! Please spare your time after reading this..

He stood there glaring at the wide expanse of area in front of him being drenched in the torrential rains. His rotten clothes could hardly cover his already toughened body. But his worry was more to cross that wide area without being caught by the sniper bullets which will take a fraction of a second to hunt him down if the search lights spot him. The un-named security prison was built for the sole purpose of facilitating the extraction of information from foreign spies. The prison had seen only one escape in its whole history, but bad luck the prisoner was shot dead before he could cross the wide open area of 6 Square miles surrounding the security facility.

Ram was weak and not as agile as he was when he was captured, but 3 years of torture had built his endurance. Patiently he waited for darkness to cover the prison before he started to crawl. As he crawled after waiting for 2 hours his elbows started bleeding, his knees pained like hell, but still he successfully reached the other end of the open area. He felt like an Olympic Athlete who had got his Gold. He still had to reach the border before 0600 hrs so that by the time they finish checking the prisoner’s count he will be in his dear mother land, on his native soil.

Two days later: The Army hospital had never seen such activity or visits by so many high officials in last 20 years. Major General Vishwapratap singh was visiting the hospital that day to see that daring devil of a man who had escaped from the “Qayamat” prison [as named by his soldiers because of its fame of digesting many of their best officers]. Ram was enjoying the princely treatment he was receiving in the hospital [princely - compared to the one he was receiving in the prison]. Ram was weak and unable to walk because of a broken ligament. He had made friends with a sweeper named Subhash in the hospital.

The hospital had prepared itself for the visit of the Major general who rarely had visited a hospital in his life except as a patient. Major General Vishwapratap singh arrived sharply at 0900 hours as he had informed. He walked without stopping in his regular fast pace towards the room where Ram was reclining on his bed. Nobody even dared to give him directions though he dint need any. As Ram heard the foot steps he became stiff in his bed and the moment the saw the figure of the Major general in front of his door he tried to get up and salute his superior officer.

Major General Vishwapratap singh spoke “At rest lieutenant, no need to get up from the bed” [though the sentence reads like a soft one it sounded like a order to Ram and he dint move a bit from his bed] Ram said “Thanks you, sir”. Vishwapratap singh spoke back “That’s ok boy, but do you know what you have done, you have broken down the pride of our enemy nation and added much more pride to our nation.” He smiled as he spoke these words, then stiffening he spoke “I want you back in action in one month, your family will reach here by tomorrow you can spend time with them while you heal, and by next month you will have to report to the base again. We are planning for a commando mission to Qayamat and you will be the first in command of that mission. And I will send in Major Sivakumar to get all the information he could get from you about Qayamat.”

Ram was speechless for a moment – mixed feeling about meeting his family after a long time, about a commando mission to Qayamat –the death hole which he had just escaped. But before he could gather himself to push a word from his mouth Vishwapratap singh spoke again “Ok gentleman, all the best” and he turned to leave when he turned back as if he had forgot something and said “And yes I have recommended your name for the Nations highest order of awards – the golden cross”. And he left.

Don’t even imagine me to describe Rams feelings – totally mixed at that moment. The next day Major Sivakumar was supposed to reach there by 0700 hours to the hospital and start collecting details about Qayamat from the sole survivor of that place. When he reached the hospital he saw a huge crowd of soldiers who were guards in front of Ram’s room. Major Sivakumar thought “what the damn, so many people to listen the story of Ram, was I on a data collection trip or had I reached a public speech gathering,”

He made his way through the crowd of subordinates who were behaving like civilian fools who crowd in a political meeting, when he had just reached the door the sight was a total shock- Rams dead body was lying on the bed, his neck cut and most of his blood clotting on the floor to forma blackish mass but some blood was on the walls which formed the words “We are still proud of Qayamat”. The message of the spies of the enemy country was clear.

Near the bed Subhash stood with the national flag to cover the body of Ram who once thought that he had escaped Qayamat [death]. Any body, who had seen that gory scene that day, will never dare to compare the pride some one has for his own nation, whether he is a fellow country man or a citizen of the enemy nation.

Even an enemy can be forgiven but certainly not a traitor!

P.S : Liked this genre?

With Love,

Image Courtesy : Google Images