Friday, November 25, 2016

A letter to my parents




Dear mum and dad
As I grow bigger each day, I have realized that you have been growing old. There were times you and I thought of the day I would grow matured. I am sure you dreamt of the day your son would grow into a man. Yes, today as I realize that I have successfully grown into man that you had dreamt of, there is a feeling of sadness mixed with nostalgia. Never had I thought I would grow this big to just remain away from you all. I know you also didn’t think of this but selflessly never ceased to educate us.
You received the rainfall but kept us dry. You burned yourself under the sun and kept us under the shed. You swallowed the pain and gave us the relaxation and happiness. A little money you earned shedding the rivulets of tears, I know, you spent on us. The money with which you could have purchased a cozy jacket or a beautiful pair of shoes, you expended on us. For out tomorrow, you forgot your today. Just to gift us the better days, you fought with bitter days. I have remembered every little that you provided me that kept me going. I asked one and you gave me ten, perhaps, the biggest amount of anything that human on earth can give.
You and I have trodden the path that poverty laid for us. I have witnessed the adversities that fate threw on us. I have perceived with my own hand the hardness of life that pressed us hard. Eating half stomach, you would fill ours to the fullest.
I can remember vividly when we had to shift to our own house from grandma’s house, how tough it was. We had nothing other than sooth-painted dishes, old rugged clothes and the cracked fate with us. With the hope for a better tomorrow, to write our own destiny and to challenge the fate that every married son had to face, I have seen you migrated to our new house. We had the cheapest house that stood like a tower and still we have it. We had nothing except the empty rooms without beds to sleep on and without fate to bless us. One person that was there spectating us was only God. To the world, we just looked assess with- what- will- you- do- to- eat kind of people. As small as we were, perhaps, never must my parents have thought we would one day grow into respectful asses. Or perhaps they must have dreamt us of growing big. Unsure of what our future would look like, I assume you must not have dreamt of big dreams.
Dad and mum, I still remember the time we had to take kharang. Only on occasion, fortune would allow us to eat rice. I still hate those moments when we had to eat Kharang out of no choice. I still keep imaging as to how much you would take to go for shopping. We had no source from where money would come from. The produce of paddy we would reap at the end of the year, most of them would go the money lenders. I have seen you, my mum working damn hard, getting others land for sharecropping. How tough it might have been to clear the bushes for ginger plantation. I was too small to think of your health and never did help you. As we grew bigger we had to go to other places for our study and you still struggled under the scorching sun and lashing rainfall. However, I have understood the toughness that would hit us having to work as a farmer. Don’t worry, your son has grown empathetic and never fail to appreciate the sweats that drain from your body.
The time we had no oxen and had to hire from others with paddy in return, still haunts me. We had thatched house that wouldn’t effectively prevent dripping of rain into the room. Twice in a year, you used to replace with straw. The time needed and the difficulty you used to face in reaping the straw that too on a sharing basis is, unimaginable. 
I look you with great awe for your greater sacrifices for me and my siblings. You never wore new shirts and shoes, but never denied to buy us one. You wore torn clothe stitched again, and gave us new ones. Still today you have maintained the same trend. Our tower- like house is on the brink of losing its name. It seems like it would collapse anytime. The money that gambled on me and my siblings and of which the return would be never even quarter of it, would have made a good house for you two. Yet you forgot your comfort for ours. Your love showed our need and concealed yours.
I want to ask you, today this question: are all parents around the world, as foolish as you are? Foolish for the reason that you know you won’t get even one tenth of what you gave us back! Is it that you expect your children to look after you when you grow old? Have all the children been able to fulfill the expectation of parents? Perhaps, you are living with inferior feelings that your children may not come nearer to your dreams.
Nay, don’t worry! I write this, today, as a proof for tomorrow that, no matter what, I will try to fulfill many of your dreams. I will make sure an expectation of a parent never go in vain. I will fill the gap that life and fate have created. I shall struggle every day and night to be your good son. I shall keep this writing as an evidence for tomorrow for you to refer and comment on me. The worries you have that you reiterate almost every day will be clarified soon. 
I sure by now,you must be worrying as to what type a wife will come to me.This worry,i know,is harbored by all the parents of grown up kids.Let me assure you that when time comes for me to marry,your son will not search a wife who would drag your dignity to the ground. I will search a wife who will come like a daughter to you, love unconditionally   and travel with us endlessly. I will not breed a feeling in you to feel low in the society. I shall serve you as any good son would serve their parents. You have given me so much that i won’t be able repay in my whole life. But I will make sure your dreams see the horizon of reality. I love you!

Your son

Tuesday, September 20, 2016

HAPPY teachers Day



HAPPY teachers Day

Not every time do I say this,
Not every time I remind you this
Yet today as your day comes,
I am overwhelmed with feelings,
And perhaps words are limited, yet
Myriads thoughts in my mind come flooding—
Some come with songs—
Songs of appreciation,
Songs of felicitation
And songs of reminiscence.
Some comes with gratitude—
Gratitude for blessing
Gratitude for bestowing love
Gratitude for painting my dreams.
On every trail I leave behind,
There is your impression left,
And every step I take,
I imagine your presence.
My going doesn’t seem tough
Because your presence in life
Smooth all roughness I tread.
On this August Day,
I owe you all my love,
And I wish you Happy Teachers’ Day.


Sunday, August 7, 2016

Celebrating Diwali after 8 years



Celebrating Diwali after 8 years



After having remained away from parents in the most important occasions for several years, I was home. It was one epic, memorable and important moment for me, my family and many others who keep family as their assets. My life had seen the beauty of the most important moment. I felt lucky to have been able to make it for the occasion. The light that I lit that night—the candles fixed on the barks of banana trunks—not only brightened the night, but also the soul and heart of ours. We were celebrating together after a long time. I could see smile on the lips of my parents. The smile that returned after a long time with the presence of their son was visible from far. The zeal and effort with which they welcomed the night of the occasion was in itself revealing the excitement that was accumulated within them. The night was cheerful. Each moment that consumed the occasion felt great. One thing I realized forever was the fact that family union is the greatest moment of life. I was overcome with sentiments.
Since the morning, wreaths of marigold and other species of flowers waited to be hung on the doors. Piece by piece, the flowers were joined by long threads and when the crepuscular evening presented, doors beamed with orange hue of marigold’s wreath. Neighborhood gleamed in the same way. Firecrackers were the sparkling and blasting in the infant darkness over the sky. I got overcome by all those gaps and the moments I missed and could feel the eyes get drenched. Perhaps that was the only moment I got to have that great feeling after growing up.
When I was kid, I never felt like I enjoyed. Perhaps I took things for granted as we usually do. I would feel like everything that came by was something that should do and therefore, never had as much excitement as I had after this long years. Absent had made the heart grow fonder. And the long gap created so many spaces to take everything that came by in a grand way.
That night I wanted to sing loud, speak to the world that I was happy, that I was there again. I wanted to let the neighborhood feel that we were enjoying as much as they. Like my parents were living in the village—only bride and the groom—the neighbors were no exception. In some homes, old couples, lit candles, welcomed Mata Laxmi—the goddess of wealth—to their house and, perhaps missed their children. I could read through the expression they exhibited that they were not as excited as they showed themselves to be. I could do nothing but empathize with them and their plight. I wondered then, did their sons and daughters missed the parents as much as they did! Did their sons and daughters wipe subtle tears as they did?
That night went by, next night, it was desushiri time.I went for singing desushiri. It was unplanned. It was never thought of. I had already made up my mind that I would spend my time with family. I wanted to hear other sing. I wanted to rejoice at others performance and once again delve myself into sentiments. I wanted to go back to my past when I lead a group of young youths into door to door singing. It was then, for money. It was for earning. At the recollection of those moments I felt like laughing. This time it was for entertainment. It was for living the moment and keep record of moment I enjoyed.
Indelible memories remain in my mind of that time. Unforgettable moments reside in me of those days. I have forever created a unique memory!

Celebrating Diwali after 8 years



Celebrating Diwali after 8 years



After having remained away from parents in the most important occasions for several years, I was home. It was one epic, memorable and important moment for me, my family and many others who keep family as their assets. My life had seen the beauty of the most important moment. I felt lucky to have been able to make it for the occasion. The light that I lit that night—the candles fixed on the barks of banana trunks—not only brightened the night, but also the soul and heart of ours. We were celebrating together after a long time. I could see smile on the lips of my parents. The smile that returned after a long time with the presence of their son was visible from far. The zeal and effort with which they welcomed the night of the occasion was in itself revealing the excitement that was accumulated within them. The night was cheerful. Each moment that consumed the occasion felt great. One thing I realized forever was the fact that family union is the greatest moment of life. I was overcome with sentiments.
Since the morning, wreaths of marigold and other species of flowers waited to be hung on the doors. Piece by piece, the flowers were joined by long threads and when the crepuscular evening presented, doors beamed with orange hue of marigold’s wreath. Neighborhood gleamed in the same way. Firecrackers were the sparkling and blasting in the infant darkness over the sky. I got overcome by all those gaps and the moments I missed and could feel the eyes get drenched. Perhaps that was the only moment I got to have that great feeling after growing up.
When I was kid, I never felt like I enjoyed. Perhaps I took things for granted as we usually do. I would feel like everything that came by was something that should do and therefore, never had as much excitement as I had after this long years. Absent had made the heart grow fonder. And the long gap created so many spaces to take everything that came by in a grand way.
That night I wanted to sing loud, speak to the world that I was happy, that I was there again. I wanted to let the neighborhood feel that we were enjoying as much as they. Like my parents were living in the village—only bride and the groom—the neighbors were no exception. In some homes, old couples, lit candles, welcomed Mata Laxmi—the goddess of wealth—to their house and, perhaps missed their children. I could read through the expression they exhibited that they were not as excited as they showed themselves to be. I could do nothing but empathize with them and their plight. I wondered then, did their sons and daughters missed the parents as much as they did! Did their sons and daughters wipe subtle tears as they did?
That night went by, next night, it was desushiri time.I went for singing desushiri. It was unplanned. It was never thought of. I had already made up my mind that I would spend my time with family. I wanted to hear other sing. I wanted to rejoice at others performance and once again delve myself into sentiments. I wanted to go back to my past when I lead a group of young youths into door to door singing. It was then, for money. It was for earning. At the recollection of those moments I felt like laughing. This time it was for entertainment. It was for living the moment and keep record of moment I enjoyed.
Indelible memories remain in my mind of that time. Unforgettable moments reside in me of those days. I have forever created a unique memory!

Sunday, June 19, 2016

A letter to my parents

Dear mum and dad

At times, when I am alone, many kind of thoughts play in my mind. Some thoughts please me. Some thoughts upset me. While, there are thoughts that kill me within. I wonder as to why I am here—away, far away from you all, my mum and dad; far away from the land I have grown up. Beyond hills; beyond rivers and; beyond thickets, I remain like a colonized man. Invisible handcuffs and chain hold me tight so much so that even if I want to escape, my desire and dreams would not let me go. I am jailed in the prison of so called fate. Although, technology has eased the connectivity, I still feel like we have been separated by thousand miles. Each time I remember you all, copious tears drop off my eyes silently. In principle I don’t have desire to be away from you. My sentiments hurt each time I have to spend time away from you. I know, no one has caught me and tied me, yet my desire and your dreams of me keep me confined here. Hoping for the better day—the day you may feel you have accomplished as parents, I remain bearing the pain of separation. I can’t accept the fact that we have to separate one day or the other; nay, I can’t live a life where people like you are absent. Be it happy or sad, I wish we could spend our time together. Yet for a better tomorrow, I am enduring bitter today. Don’t ask me if I don’t miss you; I do! However as I already said, I am learning to be a better son.
I know why you had to bear the pain of my departing from you. I had to do it as well. In the chilly morning of winter or rainy hot morning of summer, when we all had to wake up early for my departure,I have undergone the toughest experience. I would feel suffocated yet what would I do? All I could do to hide tears in my eyes was to assure you all that I am coming back soon. You and i—all of us await a moment when we would have some cashes to buy stuffs that as a farmer we couldn’t do easily. The entire life you have spent on children like us. Sometimes into the rain, you have worked to earn something; sometimes into the scorching heat of sun, you have sweated to complete a task for money. How can I forget how hard you have been toiling in the worst of weather so that one day when your sons get into job, you can sit on a comfortable chair. Every day of your life, I know, you have been waiting for day when you can see your son become a successful man so that you can go to the neighborhood and boast.
I am sorry, dear dad and mum, that we may not have lives we all have been dreaming of. Not all the pleasing dreams and plans may turn out to be as good. We might not have enough money for paddy cultivation and harvest. Although I have been reminding myself that no matter what, I will make you proud; no matter what, you lead comfortable life. However, I am a little apprehended about what might happen to me after I am married—you daughter in law might not allow me to pursue my dreams of helping you. Looking at what many sons and daughters have been undergoing, each day I grow up into an eligible bachelor, I have this fear over coming me. I am scared of how your daughter in law would look like. I wish she doesn’t catch my hand and stop me from helping you. I know these are some useless stuff to write, yet I am being practical. Your son turns out to be old each passing day yet I haven’t started earning a single pie.
I have been away from you all for sometime. The place where life saw how the world looked like gradually becomes like a dream dearer. Blur images of the place my childhood trod appears like a fluttering of a flag. Like fading food steps of departing souls, the memories that once were close to my heart, fade. I am afraid of the impermanence of the mind. What if I develop interest in other places! I know, if I do, I will not be able to forgive myself. I am a little afraid of this useless thing and I want you to know this.
Dear mum and dad, i want to say thank you for all the help and kindness you gave me. I am sorry for all hurdles you have to undergo for me. Each passing day I am learning to be a good son. Each passing day I am sewing pieces of dreams .I am weaving great thoughts for days to come. In wait of a fine day, I am dreaming like you do. Perhaps, we will have a better life together.
Thank you.

Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Mother-a multiple role actress in the world



Mother-a multiple role actress in the world
 PC:Internet
 An old Jewish proverb goes thus, “God could not be everywhere, so he created mothers”.  Indeed, this proverb holds truth eternally. Mothers are the goddess in disguise.   She forgets her today for our tomorrow. She sacrifices her favorites for our welfare.  An ancient Indian adage reads, “Mata pita guru deva” which when translated stands for mother, father, teacher and god in its strict sense. A mother comes before god and thus she represents the noblest of all people. Milton Berle says, “If evolution really works, how come mothers only have two hands? This emphasizes on the multiple role she plays in her life. It reminds us how a mother frees her busy schedule to do a lot of things. Thus, a mother in her life time lifts the heaviest burden and plays a role of a nurse, teacher and friend.
Since the conception, till she delivers us to this world, one can just imagine how ceaseless agony presses her hard. Sometimes, giving up her favorite food to maintain us inside, how, miserable she must feel. We can’t feel because we never become one.  She sacrifices everything for her baby’s health—her beautiful time to her favorite dish. William Goldsmith Brown says, the sweetest sounds to mortals given, are heard in Mother, Home, and Heaven”.
After we are born how tough life blows her, one cannot imagine. We don’t know what goes through her life, having to raise us despite our being so vulnerable to natural calamities. From an immovable- log like us to the dynamic- machine like human being, she helps us metamorphose. She provides everything for our growth. Between the times we are baby, till we consider ourselves grown, she cares for us like nobody else. The bed which we urinate and that stinks,   she washes without even the slightest sense of burden and filth. The bottom where feces cling like dew drops on a leaf, she wipes with her bare hand without taking it as a burden. Often times, when she falls asleep early overcome with lassitude, just at a single cry of ours, she wakes up to console and fondle us putting us back to sleep. No matter how hard weariness pulls her, consoling us on her aching laps, she never ignores to suckle us. Even when rivulet of sweats drains her forehead and that she is parched, she never forgets to give us her time. “Grown don’t mean nothing to a mother. A child is a child. They get bigger, older, but grown? What’s that supposed to mean? In my heart it doesn’t mean a thing” says, Toni Morrison in the Beloved. To a mother, we never grow old; we remain the same young baby no matter how grey and long our beards grow. “Being a mother means that your heart is no longer yours; it wanders wherever your children do” reads another adage by an anonymous.
While swinging us on a cradle, she sings lullaby to put us into sleep. Sometimes grasping our hands, she teaches us to walk. Sometimes, chewing eatables for us, she teaches us chewing things. The times of life when legs are just useless organs, she teaches us to crawl. Carrying on her back, she teaches us utter words so that world bows to our words as we grow. An anonymous writer says, “The formative period for building character for eternity is in the nursery. The mother is queen of that realm and sways a scepter more potent than that of kings or priests”. Yes, it is the mother who teaches the ABCs of ethics and discipline.  She is the one who instills in us attitude . I always remember what my mum says: She says, “don’t let a day come when you may have to droop your head low”. Everything summarizes here —she has taught me the values; she has taught me not to incline my actions towards wrong doings and, of all, she has taught me just not to be a better   son but a better human being.  James Russel Lowell further improves my statement. He says, the best academy, a mother’s knee—meaning that she teaches us a lot of things in life.
As a friend, a mother shares us her life with us. In the words of Washington Irving it follows thus: “A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts”.
In the words of Oliver Wendell Holmes, it says: “youth fades; love droops; the leaves of friendship fall; a mother’s secret hope outlives them all”.  This clearly tells us that it’s in the heart of a mother where unconditional and unfailing love grows. It is her love that keeps us moving; that keeps us living and boosts us with encouragement to feel we ought to live. When the rest world turns deaf ears to our feelings, it’s is she who would listen to us with sincerity and curiosity. She never gets bored of listening to our useless jokes, meaningless stories and repeated requests.
Therefore, having known what a mother does in her lifetime, it is said that there is no action that can repay our mother. Sometimes acting like a nurse, she nurtures us. Sometimes in life times, as a teacher she preaches us the unfailing qualities of unconditional love. She teaches us what it means to be disciplined and ethical. Above all, she guides us to be a good human being. As a friend, she always listens to our problem, console us and pull us back each time failures push us down. Time to time, she pats us on our back and remind us she is with us. A mother is not just herself, but angel!