I wish I could be like_____________________ (name of person). This person is special because.............

This is in response to Preeti Shenoy’s  prompt, posted on promotion of her book ‘The Secret Wish List’ which is widely appreciated by the readers.

I wish I could be like…the list is endless since it can be any person with a special ability because this ability or calibre robs off  an important area in the main platform of my mind. Such people inspire and lure me and I adore them, though I scarcely adopt any of their means and methods. Many  an occasion I have felt that I am a misfit in the crowd of such special people. I know very well that not even a grass herb is futile  in the short span of its existence in this world. The microbes,  considered to be so fierce have their little role in salvaging the world from population explosion.   So I too have my part to play in this life drama.

The question is how important your casting is. Is it  befitting your innate potential and prospective? Has anyone acknowledged your capacity and capability, however diminutive it may be? No, the universe is not roomy enough to contain all such negligible talent. And there appears the dream I wish I could be like …..E.g. If I happen to listen to a heart-stealing music, I wish I could be like the musician. If I come about a mind-blowing dance, I wish I could be like the dancer. If I happen to read a book(blog- post also) with commendable content, I wish I could be like the writer. If I get into acquaintance with a person able for laudable oration, I wish I could be like the orator. A skilled mason, an expert cook, a smart anchor, an efficient doctor, a resourceful teacher, a patient person and the like enthuse me a lot. I wish on no account I could be a politician because  I have never been in association with politics and politicians. I find no politician with desirable character and calibre for the present. All make-belief stories they  cook for the  greed to be fulfilled. Neither they love the country nor do they serve it.

If we dip our hand in the Holy Scriptures, we can pick so many mythological personalities from them that  adorn our minds and we then wish we could be like them. Bhishmacharya,  Droupadi, Kunti, Vidura and so many others. will arouse a spirit in us, because they are the embodiments or epitomes  of  powerful specialities. But all cannot be unique because the word uniqueness will vanish,  if all are special. So let it go like this with all the varieties of human nature. Variety is the essence of nature.

Variety and diversity

pour water to the life for

people to live a life

 full of life to shun

all dryness from the life.

(All these are sheer imagination, far away from reality.)

sarala

An Encounter

[The story so far: Kishore ,a tenth std. student visited the temple.A stranger, one Mr.hariprasad tried to make friends with him.But his mother warns him to be away from strangers.The temple incident rotates the  young age of Kishore's mother through her mind. Now pl. read......

Part-2

As a subservient progeny Kishore remained in his house watching T.V,  playing games and even helping his mother in cuisine. After a couple of weeks his limbs again led him to his beloved Deity in the evening. His visual organs travelled hither-thither to trace the stranger. He was discernible nowhere. Was he relieved or a bit curious to locate him? Yes, he owned both the feelings-he wanted to understand his global positioning and not also.

At the same time he wanted to gratify his mother, who was always apprehensive about her lone son. So on son’s remarks in negation about the presence of the newly arrived person, she felt a weight off her head. However the anecdote took her to an event occurred in the holy place in the vicinity of her young-age domicile. In her native village there was a holy shrine, which marked the presence of this nineteen-year-old lassie on almost all the days. She was quite pretty with an enticing mode of gait.

One day she was advancing towards her own abode through a ridge in the paddy field. And that route shrunk the kilometer from the temple to her house to its three fourth. A burly but attention-catching voice halted her,  “What is your good name?, where is your house?” She propelled her vision to the direction of the voice. Her eyes got trapped on to a young charming face of about twenty five. At the spur of a moment without her affirmation the mouth paved way for her tongue to produce a word ‘Vasanta.’  She accelerated her locomotion, as her conscience accused her for this act.

The next day it seemed that he was awaiting her. She walked past him in an unobserved manner, even though some spirit tried to arrest her. Neither she uttered anything  nor did she twist her face. Repetition of the story on the proceeding two days started slowly hauling her. Eventually both became friends. “Somehow I visualized an intimate friend of mine in you and it is my first curious experience,” said he. “ How come that I reacted in favour of that, I don’t know. Might be that my mind also analyzed a friend in you,” she responded to him.

The guy was a guest-dweller from abroad in his maternal uncle’s house. He  arrived there for a change from his job on a short vacation. His uncle had sought recently to reside in a countryside that was in that gal’s rural area. After the college-hours she did meet her new friend, who waited near the snake wood tree, stood on the mud wall. She managed to submit some reasons to the elders to be away from home. She, though naive, was the possessor of a good moral character and hence her short absence escaped unnoticed .

 Those few days carried them to the natural beauty of the lovely village that  provided them room for discussion about everything under the sky. They sat on a land- terrace  (chirra) full of flowery plants. The squirrels gnawed  the fruit of their shelter tree  without perturbing them at all. The butterflies also fluttered  a distance away, so that the young friends could have occupied in their conversation at the full range. Twenty days passed through their vision, as a movie in a C.D on fast forward form. They couldn't believe that a long period of twenty days have departed from them.

The day of bidding adieu reached so fast. The departure time  revealed one thing  that other than comradeship, something extra has developed between them. But nobody disclosed the matter on the baffling, if it was one-direction traffic. Both the hearts turned to be very weighty making the wise saying  “When the heart is full, words are few” true to the best of its meaning. Both of them thwarted the plan of tears that hanged about to jump out. They couldn't help parting. Adieu time asked them both to retreat to their respective residents. Both of them thought, “Meeting brings us glory a lot, but parting makes us really gloomy.  Every meeting has a parting and some parting may take us to a meeting again. ” Both vacated themselves from there demonstrating waving the hands.

Sarala                                                                                              .[to be cotd.]

I wish I could touch...............

In response to Preeti Shenoy's prompt No.6 for the promotion of her recent novel  'The Secret Wish List' a wide reader and one of the best sellers.

If I could touch anything special …..I would touch the moon. His charming face always smiles at the beings of the earth. He demonstrates nil any partiality or prejudice to anything. He treats everyone and everything  synonymous. All the organisms enjoy a good haul of gladness from his visage. He at  regular hiatuses looms in the sky spreading and supplying sparkling luminosity to all the progenies of his neighbouring lady, our Mother Earth .The radiance that emerges out of him provides a special glow to the lovers, young couple and the other living-beings and thereby a brilliant glee. The little countenances of kids open wide with wonder and surprise at the very sight of the moon.

  

But the satellite moon if I can touch, I would do certain things there on its soil. I’ll take the whole lot of land(Can it be called land?) into my possession and dispense it to the landless amongst the earth-dwellers. There are people numerous and other creatures aplenty without an inch of land of their own, whereas abundant areas of land  numerous others capture within their confines. People even bewail the demise of the kin not only because of their desertion from them, but of the dearth of cremation ground also. Many people of various sects or castes do not hold a social order for a common crematorium for the carcass. So I’ll help them make their transit to the moon, be they may man or monkey, worm or wasp, rat or rhino and of any kind of life-forms. Equilibrium and equality; harmony and unity and co-operation and collaboration will be the slogan. Complete contentment will be the motto. Then the foodless, penniless, under-clothed and ill-healthy ones will own domiciles  with all the luxuries-only manual and natural. A healing touch for the hearts that bleed due to the suffocation  of sufferings, will create a heaven on the moon.

.

Oh! Your eye-brows become bow-like, don’t they? Where will they all acquire the essential resources from? Don’t be panicky.  If I obtain an opportunity to touch the moon that means some miracle would happen. And that miracle would turn the satellite conducive with air and water and agricultural produce for living and livelihood respectively. A wild imagination occurs here, doesn’t it?

Sarala.

An Encounter

A short story, slightly long, will materialize into its full shape in four or five fractions.

  

 Part-1

Usually Kishore perceives himself out of bed at the mercy of alarm-clock,around 6 o’clock . After the hygiene procedures he comes out to the compound to observe the surroundings. It gives him pleasure ample to watch the morning scenes. He is much fond of  gazing at the tenderness of the toddling day, which grows to its youth at noon and old age at sundown. But of late the morning or evening views have no part to play in his routine, since the nightmare of his class-X exams does not invite them. So he relies upon the God to be endowed with a safe haven with regard to his rating in the exam.

 His fast approaching exam was vying him much. It was not that his grades were ghastly that he was vexed about, but he aspired to holding himself above all the fellow students. And so his legs never allowed him to set aside his body-figure without visiting the nearby place of worship. Unsurprisingly they carried him to the temple on the very day of commencing the exam and they continued the same till the last day.
That day Kishore was standing in close proximity to the Deity in the sanctum sanctorum. He stood there wholly immersed in the feel of Deity, laying the shutters of his eyes absolutely over the eye-balls. And naturally his lips chanted psalms and  mind pleaded for the Deity’s favour for the ensuing exam. The poojari(priest) provided him *theertham in his hand and then*prasadam in a piece of plantain leaf. With the sign of respect and reverence he received them and evicted himself from there to the precinct outside the temple.

A middle-aged man, say in mid-forties stood there, as if he was lying in wait for Kishore. He put his foot forward to announce his presence to Kishore. Kishore, while taking extensive fast paces, gaped at him, as that man’s figure fell into his eyes for the first time.

The man, a bit hefty in stature, was one Mr. Hariprasad. “Hello, what is your name? Where do you stay? Who are your parents?” Questions after questions from him flooded in the air.  Kishore unlocked his mouth to respond.

“Kishore,” and it was the only word that his lingual organ uttered and he hurried past heeding no attention further.

Reaching home everything other than the exam paper, evaporated solely from his mind. Yet again frequent and frequent, the lad had to meet him and he walked past the man, who in vain made  efforts to converse with the former. However he managed to pierce his name to Kishore’s mind saying “I’m Hariprasad”.  Kishore’s mind left everything overlooked., but the exam-thoughts.

Nevertheless the papers of all the disciplines travelled on smooth roads for him. And Kishore heaved a sigh of relief. “Now I should resume all the activities like watching T.V, playing my fvourite games with friends, from who I was aloof for a while,” thought he. He peacefully enjoyed the companionship of his bed. The following morning made the faded pictures of the temple episode florid in his mind.

“Hum and haw! How I could ignore and disregard that man, who wanted to make friends with me and he strove for it many times. ”Jumping out of the bed he yelled “Amma(mother),  o! Amma, I forgot to inform you one thing.”

“What is that, dear?”

He narrated the whole incidents to his mother including his unintentional ignoble action towards the man. “Oh! God that is fine. Don’t fall prey into unfamiliar person’s contact,” amma said in a voice with worries.“He may be a cheat or burglar to abduct you or snatch your chain. He can even be a militant to allure teens to their custody and later tame them to their contour. They may loiter in diverse costumes in disguise to achieve the goal. ” “Yet again if he looms in front of you, you pretend that you are in a hurry and walk off hastily. Cut short your outing for the time being, ”continued she.

The docile laddie solaced his mother, “Nothing would happen, amma. I know to stay secure and safe.”

*theertham –   a small quantity of holy water.

*prasadam –  sandal paste , a vermillion powder called kungum and flowers of tributes.

 Sarala                                                                                                                     [to be contd]

‘I wish I had one more chance to……. ‘

institute my life from where I initiated. And then I would have accomplished all these activities, which still remain afresh in my mind. Yea, I would have rectified the ill-doings if I had a few in my original life.

To be a little kid to enjoy all the mystery and anonymity of nature with exciting vision-the dawning day, the growing morning, the glowing noon, the fading sun and the rising moon. I would spare a bewildered look at the tall trees and weeds tiny; hushing breeze and roaring thunder and blinking lightning and twinkling stars. I would hang on the corner of my mother’s sari and the collar of my father’s shirt, filled with enthusiasm in my eyes and prattle a lot in my lips about topics of attraction. I would exhibit all my obstinacy for all the yearnings to be fulfilled. I would wait for clasps and kisses from elders and return those to them with love.I would play with my friends, toys and boys without any stress and strain and tension and apprehension.

TO attain my teen obeying my parents and observing their strength closely to be a follower of theirs is really worth-scoring. I would care, concentrate and discharge all my duties and then argue for my rights.  I would learn compassion for the poor and ailing, destitute and desperate and count the boons and blessings that God has poured on me. I would evade myself much away from rowdies and rogues. I would be triumphant in fighting against my own weaknesses by installing in me, values and virtues only. 

In adulthood, I would put into practice every good lesson learnt. I would be kind, merciful, duty-minded and affectionate in all my rolls and roles of womanhood and eventually turn to be an old woman immersed in service to the needy and spirituality for the self to acquire bliss and ecstasy.

What a foolish and unfeasible idea!  If at least a substantial number of people allow all these qualities of excellence to sustain in them 'what a wonderful world it would be!'. Any or every silly person can imagine and dream to have any castle in his or her life and so also me.

Mighty He is!

  

Caresses and cares us,the Lord Air,

Our physique and mind to be live.

During the tour entire over here
Till we take bed for our lat breath.

Treks He through our body slowly,

Collecting  waste from there freely,

And makes his exit, himself dirty,

Ringing purity bell in bladder.

Stylishly dancing like a child,

Along with his  friends on this planet, 

Holding their hands with much delight 

Helps He exhibit their fruit and flowers.

Humming a jingle,  really mellow,

Creating a highly spellbinding milieu.

In tranquil He becomes a darling,

And label him then we, as doting.

In thrill He starts an A.C and

Environment,  He crafts ready

To cool and console us from hot,
 Aha,What a good feel of comfort !

Monsoon displays a pleasing grin

In His daring notable presence turns
Monsoon her water pot upside down.

And pours down water full from storage.

 But ho! In His ferocity, crushes He

Earth’s beings and belongings

Spoiling the serenity prevalent

Brings us He troubles a lot.

Unloads completely, He his ire

Though He gets by none provoked.

And cannot one annul or revoke him

Unless He turns calm to settle stuff right.

Mighty enough, when in stormy attire

Capable He is to carry anything strong

In his wings so powerful

Drives away the cloud proud

That holds her head very high

As if she is the life giver here.

But Cloud and wind both, Earth needs

To uphold her stability and balance 

.

sarala.

I wish everyone loved ..........................................

 In response to Preeti Shenoy's prompt..... I wish everyone loved our own life.To facilitate this we should love each other, all others and all other things.

Of course we may find it difficult because many a time others' drawbacks only  first fall into our eyes, despite the shortcoming of ourselves. 

But if we succeed in overlooking others' demerits in the bright light of their merits, definitely we can love them.And also let's have a comparison of defects,ours with theirs, on an honest analysis, we can find that our both the legs are infected and theirs only one leg.

Besides if we can love  the nature and its resources, the horrible human devastation of nature will come to a dearth.If we keep every thing in tact in the ring of love, the heaven will be here on this planet itself.

All these are feasible only if everyone loved  everyone's life.