Simple Wishes.....

 

"What is that boy doing?" The little eager eyes were looking at a boy standing near a fountain in the middle of the park.

"He is throwing coins", her mother replied.

"Why?", she asked.

"It is a wishing well, dear. Some people feel that by throwing a coin in the fountain, your wish will come true."

"Can I have one, please?" The little girl started jumping restlessly. Her mother fumbled through her wallet and took out a penny. The girl grabbed the penny and rushed towards the fountain and threw the coin aimlessly. As the coin plopped into the water, she squealed with joy. She ran back to her mother. 

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"Did you see that, did you?" The look of pure delight in her eyes was priceless.

"Can I have one more coin, please?"

The reluctant mother took out another penny. Her daughter snatched the penny and grabbed her mother's hand. She pulled her close to the fountain. Then, again in a casual way, she tossed the penny into the fountain, waiting to hear the plop, as if that was all that mattered in the world.

Unmistakable laughter - pure and hearty - filled the air.

"One more, please.....one, only one.....please", she pleaded to her mother.

This time, her mother took out a handful of coins, and started giving them to her one by one. And she couldn't resist smiling at her simple pleasure. With every plop, there was a moment of a bellyful of laughter. After sometime, both the mother and her daughter were laughing their heads off.

"No more coins left, dear", Mother said. "Let's go."

"My wish came true Ma", the little girl confessed as they walked away from the fountain.

Mother stopped. "What wish?", she asked.

"I wanted to see you laugh, and the fountain fulfilled my wish. You were sad today. I didn't like that."

Mother was stunned. She was so little but she observed so much.

"You did not laugh at first Ma. But later, as I kept throwing the coins, you started feeling happy too. It is a wishing well Ma. We will come here often."

Mother hugged the little one tightly. She had never realized how much her daughter understood. As for the wishing well, perhaps, some wishes were meant to come true. Or perhaps, for wishes to be fulfilled, all you needed was a simple heart that never stopped trying.

Linking to #FridayReflections with Write Tribe and Sanch Vee

A Stretch of Lazy Limbs....

Getting to a place of comfort can be uncomfortable. Remember being born, eh? No...? The witnesses do. The spectators, the participants, the assistants. They are eager to hear the cry - the cry of life. If the child has to live, s/he ought to cry. That will ensure a life. So they strain their ears to hear it - the cry of life. Isn't it incredible how life and tears are inseparable? You cry the moment you are born. You do not remember the pain of birth you have experienced at the time you first saw the light of the day. Out of the womb, out of the comfort zone you inhabited for months, out of that cocoon you thought was your home. A place where you were curled up, literally, with just the fluid you made to keep yourself safe. But you had to come out, and come out you did, to a place that gave you more room, physically speaking, and mentally too. A place for you to grow not just vertically. A place you would know as your home, your city, your country, your planet, your universe. A place to expand your horizons, a place to spread and flap your wings, to get ready for the flights that might define your very being. 

What after that .....?

And then the preparation begins. Parents prepare you. Teachers prepare you. At least they try to prepare you - for life. But something else happens too. A clipping of wings, perhaps. An adherence to age-bound, time-bound, culture-bound norms. You question, you are snubbed. You wonder, but your imagination is nipped. You wiggle. You cannot give up. No. You were not born for this. Struggle ensues. There is a rebellion somewhere. A toppling state of affairs. A new birth, maybe. Of new thoughts. Of freedom. From shackles. From bondage of worn-out thoughts. 

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It is a better place in some sense now. But it was not easy to reach here. Not easy to cross the obstacles. To win over the muddled mazy paths. No - comfort ain't that comfortable. It comes from a stretch of the lazy limbs. 

But what if there was no struggle. Would there be a birth then? There would just remain a lull, a halt. No end-point. No beginning. No in-between. No life.

But that does not happen. There has to be life. There has to be action too. Action, willing or otherwise. And it impacts you. It impacts those around you, living and non-living. You don't believe me. Well, sit. Just sit and do nothing. And then get up. Check the seat you sat on. If it is cushioned, it is bumped in. It bears a little indent where you sat. If it is not cushioned, it has still taken your body's heat. It is warm. So, whatever you do, it will have an impact. Willing or otherwise.

A gesture, a smile, a tear, a wind, a rain-drop, a fall, a getting-up, a friend, a foe - they all impact you. They characterize you too. Your smile impacts you and your surroundings by spreading invisible waves of happiness. These waves cheer up the horizon, so to say. Your tears release you from pain, from guilt. They cleanse you and everything around you. Winds impact with the whiffs of scents they carry. Someone is close to you, you are not alone, never. A rain-drop titillates. A cooling sensation it is. A trickling titillation. 

You fall. You bruise. You get-up. You put a balm. Bruise covered. But lesson learnt too. What if the lesson was cryptic? What if you fail to understand? Well - simple. You fall again. To get-up again, and again and again. That's how you learn or not learn. That is what spells out your life's path. The actions that you take or refuse to take, and the impact that they leave behind. That is who you are. It is up to you what life you live. A life of living moments or a mere existence of quietus. You choose, you decide. Willingly or otherwise, the day you are born, you get busy living or get busy dying.

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This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

Linking it to B-A-R

We Need Each Other

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I see a big house - not luxurious in the way big houses today are. But displaying abundance in another way. It has people. It has smiles. It has echoes of loud laughter. Jokes are shared, songs are sung. I see a different life there. Kids play in the yard, not with technology but with each other. If someone cries, there is a hand to wipe the tears. No hands are needed to text emoticons of sadness and sympathy. Humans exist. Humans interact. Humans hug and laugh and cry and talk.

It is long gone now. That human touch. Touch has been redefined. Touch-screen. We flip pages on the screen, rather than a book. We touch keypads to send across our half-hearted smiles, our un-felt tears. That is what touch has become. And yet we feel we are connected. Are we, really?

There is a disconnect. A rupture. A major chasm. It divides us. It takes us apart. We reach technology again. We want to take control of our destination. We have to reach it. But we have no oars to row our boat. We try to build virtual bridges using social media. We have many friends there. We are very social beings, socially active on our phones, sitting in our isolated houses, talking to 'friends' we hardly ever meet.

And then, we lose it all. Our sanity, our peace. We wish for a way out. But the only navigation our GPS can offer is from one physical place to another. We try to stretch. But we have been sitting so long in that abjectly stooping posture, that we have stiffened ourselves. We wish, too late, for deliverance. Who can rescue us?

Is it too late now? We try to look inside. There is pain in there, a throbbing pain. It tells us that we are alive. That there is hope. We just need to try. We just need to utter. We just need to articulate. We just need to get in touch again. Touch - Feel - Talk - Converse. In a social way, in a physical world, on a personal level, on a plane of consciousness.

We have the will. We can find a path too. All we need is navigation through our heart - from my heart to yours, and the other way round. All we need is voyage from deep within us. All we need is a steering away from the mechanical responses to a more sentient reality.

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This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

Good Thoughts Lead to Good Deeds....

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When I was little, my grandpa always used to ask me to read newspapers. Every morning, reading the newspaper with the morning tea, was like a ritual. He would point out interesting things from history and would even pinpoint the mistakes, if the newspaper writer had made. Then he would write a letter to the editor to make corrections. This habit of his was passed on to my mom and from my mom to me. My mom would insist during my college days, to read the editorial column as the language written would help me improve my vocabulary and style of writing.

Speaking of the editorial column, I remember sifting through the newspaper to read the 'Thought for the Day' and contemplate on the topic or the thought it generated. It was a great mental exercise. These days, I have always liked the small articles on spirituality like those by The Speaking Tree. Some newspapers have also vowed to make one day a No Negative News Day and on that day, the issue that comes out is filled with positive, promising news. The articles that are included in such editions help the reader think more constructively and develop a habit of appreciation for all that is good in society.

This notion of avoiding negativity and dwelling more on the inspirational matter is something very interesting. In an age where we see lot of social evils, when we stop and focus on the admirable aspects of the same society, our mind starts to function differently encouraging us to become better in many ways. When a desire to become better enters an individual mind, it helps create an aura of wonder, gratitude and excellence that like ripples in an ocean, creates a long-lasting effect on those around that person. It is just like when we smile, the other person will reciprocate in a similar fashion.

For the society's betterment, I strongly feel, that snippets of spiritual wisdom ought to become the first page of every newspaper column. Short stories that teach by example help the reader make connections and question the prejudices s/he may have harbored. I also feel that these snippets need not be religion-based. They can be stories from great personalities of any faith. The prime aim ought to be to teach some basic ethical values.

What do you feel, my friends? Do you have any story or wisdom to share here?

I remember reading a short story in the Speaking Tree column where a student tries to fight the darkness in his hut by attempting to shoo it away with a broom. When his teacher sees him doing that, he tells the student that in order to dispel darkness, you need to light up the room. The message is so simple, and yet so deep. When we illumine our inner sanctum, the outside gets lit up with bright, positive thoughts too. And good thoughts lead to good deeds. Isn't it?

Do share your thoughts too. Thanks!

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Also linking it to #MondayMusings on Write Tribe. 

Mystery Unlocked….

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With shivering hands and shaking heart

I held it….

Had dreamt of it

Had heard of it

Had seen it never ever before….

It came from the past

From times long lost

Or perhaps forgotten…..

How it survived no one knew

It had a certain mystery behind its very existence

It had defied all -

The wrath of nature,

The fury of humans,

The ferocious antipathy

Of kingdoms at war,

Raging lavas had burnt it not

But etched it in stone,

Making it permanent

And immortal unlike us

Plain book…

Full of ancient wisdom

It asked me just one question

Do you dare to open me?

I, of feeble mind and heart,

Hamlet-like,

Confused, bemused, befuddled

Wondered what to do….

A whiff of breeze alerted me

The pages crinkled too…

Tempting me with their sound

The scent of antiquity

Numbed me and yet I was awake….

I touched the cover

It felt mossy

Underneath the verdant tree

The leaves rustled

The branches creaked

The broken twigs

Scratched against my naked feet….

I dared to open the flap

The words that danced before my eyes

A jumbled hodge-podge…

Is this ancient wisdom?

I stood bewildered

When the words magically flew

One sat on my nose

And said I am Pride

One sat on my heart

And said I am Love

One sat on my eyes

And said I am Perception

Choose out of these

One word you must

Before you proceed….

I was petrified

Had never seen Words

Come to life like this

Let me choose Pride

What will I get?

I asked.

You get nothing else

Except you yourself

A life full of ego

A life without friends….

What if I choose Vision, then?

You make of choice of mind

It makes you think a lot…

You ponder and you brood

Your knowledge is just impressions

That you make on the path of life

You get an understanding

But you often get misled

By that which you fail to understand

What if I choose Love….

You make a wise choice

Since with Love comes

Empathy

Compassion

A heart that is receptive

Is better than Midas’s touch

It leaves no place for hatred

It spares no room for pride

It makes you see without bias

And love’s perception is always kind

I choose, I choose

Oh I choose Love then…

Tell me, my ancestors, what next I should learn?

Turn the page again

Oh Curious One, a voice says.

I flip the pages,

One after another,

And another, and another

I see nothing

No more words to read

No more words to hear

Is this all that I need to learn?

I question a little loudly,

A little angrily

I feel offended

That after having laid my hands

On this treasure

All I get is this…

So I ask

What more do you need?

What more do you want?

It is Love that surpasses all.

When you ask, it is not Love

But Pride that makes you question

That makes you doubt

So shun all

But Love

That is all that matters

The Book will close and disappear…

It is up to you to Love or cease to be…..

I am participating in this creative activity organised by makers of The Path of Zarathustra in association with BlogAdda

'A Small Ration of Tools'

I have been tagged by Lata Subramanian who blogs at Lata Wonders for the 3 Day Quote Challenge.

The rules for the 3 Day Quote Challenge are simple.

1. Post a favorite quote of yours for 3 consecutive days,  obviously  a different quote each day from any book, any author of your choice. It could also be your own quote.

1. Nominate 3 bloggers with each post to challenge them.

1. Thank the person who nominated you.

He had what he called just a small ration of tool:

A painted book.

A handful of pencils.

A mindful of thoughts.

Like a simple puzzle, he put them together.

- The Book Thief by Markus Zusack

For an avid book lover inside me, the title of this book was intriguing enough. I did not know what the book was about until the day I grabbed a copy of it from the library and started reading it. It is one of the most poignant books I have ever read. This is just one of the most memorable lines from the book. I don't know if it will fall in the category of a proper 'quote' but I begin the challenge from this one.

Thanks to Lata who has nominated me for this challenge. 

I am nominating the following bloggers for Day 1

Prateek

Manisha Sharma

Purba Chakraborty