स्वप्निल आँखें

कहीं इस मन में,
सजे थे, कितने ही सपने मेरे,
पंख लगा नभ में उड़ने की,
पंछियों की तरह क्षितिज छुने की,
या बादलों में कभी छिपने की ।

कल कहाँ था मैं ,
और आज मैं यहाँ हूँ,
शायद कल मैं कहीं और रहूँ।
सच होते गए सपने बहुतेरे ।
खुशनसीब हूँ या सबकी दुआएँ ।

फिर भी – आज,
एक तड़प है मुझमें,
बैचेन सा हो जाता हूँ,
एक सपना कहीं का छुटा,
बुलाता मुझे – आज भी,
इतनी नजदीक होकर,
सफेद दीवारों के पार दे इशारे ।

शाय़द आधी उम्र का यही,
एक शेष स्वपन है ।
पंखों में थोड़ी और शक्ति,
फिर वही याचक की भक्ति,
स्वप्निल आँखें पता नही क्यों,
आज मेरी नहीं थकती ।

Persona Tags

So many tags I do carry myself, given by people around, time to time as per their love and hate. The exact words may range from Buddhu to Buddhiman , Pagla to Polite, Neta to Old movie character, Besharam to Brilliant , Software engineer to All rounder. I do carry all of them like stars of any defense personal to glorify myself ! On a serious note, gone are the days, when I used to care for them – the whatsoever personality is made till now, needs hardships to polish it up.

Its not exact analogy but something related to physical tag, that we do wear around necks. One day I needed to give my official tag card to one of friend, who was walking few stairs down, than I was actually present. I told him to catch that. He caught it and knowing let it fall down down in between the spirals of stairs gap. It flews down in the air to touch the ground floor. And he walked up smiling without caring for taking that up.

It was a friendly prank solely. We laughed as we 7 collegues were there. But in reality, seeing my tag falling down, because of his prank – my heart bleed. It was an unexpected prank. The acid test of mine again. Apart from friendly kicks to him, while getting down myself, I kept silent with smile. I picked that up and walked up.

I smiled despite the fact that I was really hurt.

Now only 3 hours of this incident had passed. The same guy needed to leave for outstation. He came up with his own tag – “Prem, can you keep it till… ?”

Taking his tag from his hand again with the smile, I just told – “Dear, just see, I am keeping your tag so safe in my pocket and never play such pranks.  From you, I never expected that.” – To him, even telling sorry needed courage, he felt unable to keep eye contact with me any longer and left.  (And I know the bonds got stronger.)

Wrapping the ribbon around the tag, I kept his tag safe in my pocket.

Now I don’t wonder when the tags are replaced by some other things. And by nature, history do repeats itself.

April 4 , 2007

Welcome to the world,
– The Baby !

Today mother feels,
A complete woman.
Today father feels,
A complete man.

As a son,
To bring smiles,
To parent-in-laws.

You have brought,
Challenges – first,
Never like today.
Hope dear Godly baby –
You have the answers !

But I am sure,
Baby – you are different,
Something different,
And you are special –
To follow –
My Dear Lucky !

Blessing you dear
Your lone Mama-
For more reasons,
That only my,
Last so many years know.

With my tears,
For Krishna’s feet,
From the inner core-
My dear,
This day is for You.

Gratitude

Beyond all relations,
Beyond expectations,
Beyond despairs.

I found as per hopes,
Again ‘the words’-
That paid me.

Recalling again
the words of Baba –
“As a tree, Bend down,
when fruits are there.”

And today,
The path is clear,
Yes, transparent.

I bend down,
With all my gratitude.
Ah! its again ‘Friday’,
And I found it.
Thanks for showing –
The Path again.

Harvesting casual blogging

Have I ever asked myself, like all the bloggers, why do I blog, frequently / infrequently ? Yes, I did asked, and the answer is like most of you, just to pen down ‘something’. It has been well proved in the blogosphere that, if literary interest is there, this hobby of reading – writing , turns out as addiction becomes quite difficult to leave. At some place, I have read – A post a day, keeps the doctor away ! Like everyone, my blog too surfed several ups and down. Long back, one time at the verge of complete deletion ! And fortunately, it stood stronger with self will.

I am trying hard to be just-me and not ME, and look around. There is much more around ‘me’, that’s moving with a surprising consistency, and I am just a part of it. “Do look outward” vibrations of these lines do help me. Be it managing the team at workplace or family, outward look, paid well. And here in blogging outward looking is write ups on the society, economy, politics, science, literature and so one. On these topics, though I always have written casually, there have been times, they are taken to be published as the content of other sites too. This is the fourth time, when something written as just another pieces of write-ups got prominent place at another site. For many writers this is “what’s important about it? “. For me, if nothing important, these kept me boosting, at least. I had at least risen quite far above the complexion of “No one reads me !” as I had in early days of blogging. I am in a wider circle of readers now.

Now, I did feel happy when my casual writings on “Rubberi devi” and “Tea-production” has been taken to be published in Bihar dedicated site‘s content. Thanks to the self – starters of the site, Shalini and his team and their unconventional hobby.

I was told that normal human don’t use, even 15% of their potential. I will keep writing. I have nothing much to give you apart from these words as long as I have necessary supports to grow.

Fostering the generations

At the childhood, all the children of one family look same, and so do happens same in next generation too. And after two generation, between two individuals of same age group , much of difference can be seen.

This reality hit me hard, when I was at nani’s place in holidays for a short time.

Beginning childhood, initially every individual gets same set of facilities / punishments, but later on individual themselves chooses out the preferred one. Keep apart the facts of individuality, but there is something more important, that makes a huge difference of status so do the thinking level between two individual, divided out of two branches of same tree trunk.

When both individual from two respective generations meet, if the status difference is much, one feels inferior to other and vice verse. I am not a student of sociology or related discipline, thus I dare not to go in-depth. But in plain words, I can say that its the attitude of growth with added education.

Of course at the moment some individual remains there with willingness intact, who becomes the pillar of saplings for growth.

Though the scenario at nani’s place had been much glittering, had my nani was permitted to do the teacher’s job and continue with her education. On just seeing her reading a book, the English school inspector gave her an appointment letter.

Meet her to know her. Now she may be around 70 + . Still today her memory is extraordinarily sharp. About people, places and events, her narration is flawless. I keep looking to her, as her narration is always well weaved. If I give her story books / novel to read, she can finish up faster than me. She can recite without mistake, the long poems at a stretch, she learnt / read sometimes. A perfect pativrata – a perfect Devi “Savitri”, as her name is. I would rather not comment on this , as they are happy with each other, and more in love, it seems. When I was child, I stayed with nani at village for about one year, as Pinky was just born and Ma’s exams were there along with school ! Though at village, her ill maintained cracked feet and toes pained me, but practically I am for use of hers now.

This time while having lunch, she was making me understand the Bengali poem of Michael Madhusudan Dutt, who wrote one for her mother (And consequently she was, pouring more rice in my plate between my no-no hands). She was making me understand , how Micheal missed the mother and motherland in later life.

My nani tells, how she managed the family with a nana’s head-clerk’s job and deed-honesty. He was the first Matric pass of the area ! Her family grew up educated at higher level than nana’s other brother’s family. Now today, she feels contented a bit with some dreams fulfilled as she is the secretary of the middle school’s society.

The current generation is stable now, but still, I do guess, the next 20 years will bring a remarkable difference again, as apart from education there are something more, that’s called values related to integrity. These may be related to personality, family or social place.

Education available at hand is not everything, but the tendency to pick them up for right situation matters. I have seen families, when a famous surgeon’s needed Rs. 15 lakhs donation to admit his son for a MBBS degree from a private college. Famous professor son is unable to find a primary teacher’s job. And the landlord’s son is trying to sell of paternal property, and “thinking hard to decide” to start some business.

Ma tells / warns these things this way – ” I have all material things of my own, just my own. Thankfully – God have given you all body parts intact. The best education opportunities are given to you. Now make your own destiny. ” For a long time, I did not understood this statement.

About inherited property, she gives example of big Jewelery houses, Tatas and Ambani’s whose business is still carried up by the generation next with prosperity added. The basic ingredient that carried them forward : the tendency to excel, the tendency to struggle of own, the tendency to be strong enough to stand on own feet without much support.

Tendencies intact, when the bed of roses, material or abstract, comes by heredity, then they are luckiest, if they can see the opportunity in front of them.

Gauri and Budhiya

Dedicating to a characteristic – when a creature want to live for others, and she made me keep writing again.

Gauri was our cow 18 years old !

I reached home 24th Feb. early morning. And apart from human pairs of eyes, a so called animal’s eyes seemed waiting for me. Whether just for me, I don’t know.

Casual roaming around home premises, I saw her, our Gauri sitting permanently beside the walls, with occasional drops of tear flowing down her eyes. She was being feed in sitting posture since last few days as her hind legs got paralyzed without any specific reason.

I suggested Sambhu, our caretaker of cattle, to feed her favorite green grass (dub) , with that she may gain strength. She always needed our touch. I put more paddy straws, under her immobile belly as in these days we still needed quilts in night there. Veterinary uncle, who know all of our cattle, suggested not to put any treatment pressure on her legs. Let her live to her best, as she is.

And today is 2nd March. In the very morning, we all had wet eyes, as Gauri seemed to appear in just sitting posture but actually she left for the heavenly abode.

Green grass was still lying still in her basket. And a straw of yellow straw, she seemed chewing. None could believe that she is no more.

Ma told not to cry at all, as on cow’s peaceful death, one should not cry. Though controlled, was she honest really to herself !

Prior night, at dinner table we discussed about her falling health, but we all failed to get a glimpse at night of hers in talking other things, and we thought she will live for some more time or may gain back her strength to stand. Though I guessed that she might recover with some miracle, but I had a faint thought, if I leave for Bangalore after three days, will I be able to see her again.

She died with a wish of bearing a calf ever.

Our determination to keep an infertile cow for 18 years was a matter of non-sense decision with loads of suggestions around. For children playing cricket in front of our house, Gauri, having a short stature, was a matter of love, as she was the simpler than anything. Annoying point was that, she was the object of desire for the animal brokers!

To the needed persons, ma’s reply used to be “Her mother fed my all children, can’t I keep her last one without asking for milk.”

As Civil Surgeons’ specially regulated medicines and other uterine treatments, traditional medicines, and best possible fertility treatments could not help her conceive a calf ever.

Another reason we kept her without asking for anything was, Ma could not see the last day of her mother. Her mother budhiya was Ma’s best company to feed us with her nutritious milk.

On memorizing Budhiya’s last days, her voice saddens always.

—————————–$———————————-

From our farmlands in suburbs, majority of cattle feeding requirements fulfilled, we do keep cows as per Hindu traditions. The purpose never was or is for economical benefits from cattle, cows only, now just two. May be it’s for auspicious reasons and having pure milk of home.

Budhiya, was our first cow bought to feed my infant sister, Pinky. Her milk used to be full of cream. As we grew, we got habituated to take dudh-roti ( milk-bread ) after dinner daily and we saw several of her calves growing as we grew up. Most of her calves grown into milking cows and few to ox – sent to other places. Though the cows were never sold, was given to others.

Gauri was born as last calf of “Budhiya”, when we completed the construction of our new home.

Year 1889, when our griha pravesh ( house inauguration) function was being performed, along with my parents, as per customs, a perfect white calf , christened as Gauri, accompanied her mother Budhiya and took the rounds of our newly built home

Though Budhiya had little horns, she always threatened us in childhood, if we try to touch her little calves. Those times, we feared her.

Years passed off.

Budhiya became old. Her height seemed shortened, tooth eroded and used to take finer grains and straws only. One day she stopped taking food and water. And none of male member was at home. Ma at Nani’s place. Papa at working place and me in hostel. Sisters called up nearby uncle and veterinary hospital’s uncle. Every thing seemed useless to revive her health.

She sat down finally. Her ropes of neck were freed up, as it’s customary to keep without ropes, when hopes of cow’s life blink faint.

Day 1 passed off. She was looking for someone.. Day 2 and day 3 passed off. Blame the poor communication facilities those days. On those days Ma was eager to come home back, but she could not as having ill health of nani.

Budhiya Passed off with eyes wide open! Though, didi did all Gangajal rituals. While returned home back, Ma saw an empty cowshed. She could not see her last days. She cried for days !

Budhiya was buried at our backyards, on his burial place, now grows green trees.

—————————–$———————————-

Today is 2nd March. Her last calf – Gauri was being kept in the grave forever.

As now the backyard is full of teak trees, we men, carried her body (corpse!) to our farm land. At a corner, rectangular wide and deep land was dug up.

“In which direction her head should be kept ?” – Shambhu asked me, before our cow Gauri was to be put in grave.

I did not know exactly hence asked Patoriwala for the confirmation. It was north.

We kept pouring soil to cover her grave. While pouring soil with shovel, one moment , my emotions were telling jut to look her face back again for last time, taking out all soil put on her, as if how she looked !

But I know the five elements, I kept pouring and pouring !

And we made a square platform over the grave.

She remained a lowest maintained animal, with no complaint practically, with occasional fines that we had to pay, when she used to do graze someone’s paddy / wheat ignorantly.

We bore everything, as our insignificant fines were of no means as those of her of infertility.

Her eyes used to have tears when we bring back from hospital / Gaushala with hopes of fertility. She used to love all the calves grown in front of her eyes. She was several times hit by other cows for her this behavior! Gauri didn’t give us a single drop of milk, but we never complaint ever as we could understand her pains always. She couldn’t speak. While washing / caressing her back belly down, she used to stay calmer!

Today she is not more, with a perfect sitting posture till the last moment, she never let feel anyone that she is no more….. !

Mixed with Tears

Today, I found that my post on the Cauvery has been linked by Daily News & Analysis (DNA) as blogosphere buzz without my prior knowledge. Of course, its never needed 😉 .

Its a mere casual backtracking that I reached there to my surprise. Though this post I wrote with a casual approach, and for the time being it feels nice to be selected as top 5 blog post on the issue, alongwith the write ups of hardcore bloggers Kamala Bhatt and Desi Critique in the page of DNA. This rewarding casual approach is the outcome of my serious thought on the inspirational lines of  presenting with the natural style of the write up to the readers .

“Mixed with Tears” , This is the abstract heading, DNA gave to my write up on ‘Dividing Cauvery Water’ ! Yes, they are correct to the 6th sense.

Those grey walls.

Walking down the evenings,
Along those old walls- high,
Those faint bass and trebles,
Tied me with a string along,
Is that the souce, if  I am not wrong?


Legs moving on the road,
Sounds entered through ears,
I kept walking still attached,
There , these sounds seemed
Kept me filling – My vacuum.


Instinct again told – only truth,
Those drum beats, as if hundreds,
Metals clings, and my heart sings,
They reached me, across walls,
Across the high walls, barbed.


Boundaryless sounds reached me,
Inspiring  high trees shed leaves,
Infinite blue rays reached my eyes.
Everything came to my path.
I could not cross, ignoring them.


Trees want me close and near,
Sounds I want to hear and near,
I want to be near radiating lights,
So near I reached, still far away.
I can reach them, I again felt today.


And stands a wall, between two worlds,
A wall to stop me, keep me away,
Those barbed wires, to tear my skin.
Till I bleed,  I feel a pull towards.
I have to still reach, where I can !


One day, I shall sing this, on stage,
Near to trees, in a bright night,
To quench, thirsty soul of years.
Near to drums, to hit one of them,
Triumph before death, O’ Amen !

– 03/02/06

Past to Present 5 – Milk to Kheer

I was just few months old, fully depending on Ma, impatient baby, crying enough to get her up without delay from very early mornings sleep.

Those days again, Papa’s left leg pain recurred severely. Failing all tiring massages and local treatment, Maa, mostly alone that time, with all took him to Kurji Hospital, Patna, with all her courage, limited money and jewellery . There he needed Mylogram of spinal cord. Its a very painful and expensive process. Once Mylogram was done, doctors declared that there is tumour in the spinal cord’s specific vein, hence the pain in connecting leg, hence only operation is the only alternative.

He could not be admitted to Kurji Hospital, as that was out of our financial reach. The only option remained was govt hospital , PMCH. But with a baby of 2 months, general ward was a painful option for her and operation will require at least 3 months of stay.

There used to be cabin type rooms in hospitals, but the place of Bihar’s capital, Patna and availablity of cabin for common poeple was almost impossible, and those cabin gets booked in advance. Somehow she got the information that some cabin no. — is vacant. But the respective official denied any vacancy altogether.

She reconfirmed about the vacancy again, from the less imporant persons of hospital – the peons, and returned to Kurzi to feed me, cook food for themselves.

I must had seen all the things from their laps with my little open eyes !

Next day was Friday, again her constant want for answer with destiny and the Almighty, she left room in very morning after puja, and went directly to the residence of health minister of Bihar. A simple saree clad young woman, waiting for Health minister in morning. The other persons told her to take an appointment with his PA, and get slip. She kept silent and waited another hour.

As health minister came out of house and hurried to white ambassador, she walked from side and stood in front of her, folding her palms in the gesture of pranaam. Seeing a young married woman in this gesture, his humanity speak out, ” Beti kya pareshani hai tumhe”.

“Sir mere husband ka spinal cord ka operation PMCH mein hona hai, aur saath mein 2 mahine ka beta hain humara. Suna hai cabin no … khali hai. Agar aapki kripa ho to aap mujhe woh dilwa sakte hain. Badi kripa hoti”. Without delay, he ordered his PA to call hospital authorities and book the cabin”

White Ambassador started off. And carried the infinite blessings of a lone woman.

She came back Kurzi and took prasad and did all mother’s and wife’s duties. What she took, I am not sure. She hurried off to the Hospital again.

She was standing and waiting for busy authorities’ attention, again for a cabin request. The officer saw her standing again. Now he was out of control. He fired back on her shouting ,” Mam, after repeatedly saying, why don’t you understand that the room is not vacant. You people never understand. See today Health Minister’s own people are coming. The room is booked for them. “

“You wouldn’t believe, see its booked in the name of M.P.Das” – he showed her the register.

She took out her paper calmly, that was given by health minister’s PA in my father’s name. Seeing the same name and the confidence of lone lady, he was dumb-struck. He called the peon and chairs, tea was being ordered, now useless to her.

He got admitted and got cured well (miraculously with both legs sound) after months of stay.

I learnt to take turns, crawl on hospital cabin floors. May be so, I have been dedicated to do something for hospitals. With the growth, my tooth grew one day , suddenly Ma observed. My annaprashana function could not be done.

Before growing teeth, Annaprashan is the function when Mama ji gives the first cereal to the baby as kheer prasadam. After that only the baby can be given whole cereals. And Ma did a small homely puja at hospital cabin and thought to give me cereals.

At the time there was one caretaker girl, brought from home, Bimla (didi). She disclosed the fact that she used to feed me milk and rice since many days before as I seemed to ask from her daily.

Maa was looking into her eyes and smiled at young girl Bimla didi and her care for me.