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English Literature – Stories – ☆ Kosi Sutluj Express ☆ Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury

Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury

☆ Story – Kosi Sutluj Express ☆ Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury ☆

One lakh twenty-five thousand cusecs of water! Who knows how much it is! This much is flowing through the river Kosi every day during this flood! Otherwise, every year barely five lakhs would flow in the month of September. Or say, nine lakh cusecs in the month of Kuhar or October. Just some days ago, it was a harmless snake which, a couple of days back, has turned into a giant, ferocious and all engulfing anaconda.

And now Kosi is a bit tamed. Its fast-flowing water, washing both the banks, has become a bit subdued. The river Kosi is now flowing gracefully. The colour of all its tributaries – Panar, Lohandra, Mahanadi and Bakra has turned muddy. From orange. As a python becomes listless when it preys upon a deer and swallows it in toto, in the same way Kosi too has become quite gentle now, quite docile like a child. The water level is going down day by day. Every day and every hour people are praying to their Kosi maiya, ‘O goddess Kosi, please have mercy on us. Save us from all these havocs the flood has brought upon us!’

The crowd on the platform of Harrisongunj is a bit thinner today. A few have returned to their homes. Those who could not, stayed back. Probably they are no more left with a dwelling. Or their huts are half drowned in the mud accumulated over the place. Or because of a dead and decaying animal – a dog or a buffalo, lying there, the whole surrounding is stinking so much that no one can dare to set foot even in the courtyard. Some have come back to the platform again, leaving behind their old parents or children. The flood has brought so much of sand along with its water and spread it in their fields, that now they’re not in a position to sow anything there. Some of them are going to Gujarat or Punjab, the far away provinces, in the hope of finding a place to work as a daily wage labourer.

Already the railway minister, who was elected from this constituency, has announced the ticket free travel for the people from places like Saharsa, Araria, Katihar, Supaul, Purnia and Madhepura. So, the railway track has been repaired near the Harrisongung station and again the trains are running along. No one is going to check their tickets when they will board the train. And there are people all around. Packed inside the train, and sitting on its roof too. Every train is not only extremely overcrowded, evidently, they seem to be pouring human beings.                   

Sitting in front of a dry hand pump, Biroja is smoking a bidi. After two days, passed without any food, this afternoon probably rice and pulses will be doled out. May be a piece of onion too will be there for everyone, of course if the luck permits. He has been roaming on the platform, asking every known face, just to get a firsthand knowledge of this. And if the information is found to be correct, he must go to the embankment and bring his daughter Janakdulari from there. His sons, Murli and Madho, are already here, playing on the platform. And his wife is waiting there on the bank of the canal with Janakdulari and Chotu, the youngest son, sleeping in her lap.    

On the embankment of about a hundred-kilometer-long canal, starting from Baluabazar of Supol to Beldor of Khagaria, peoples from various places, have now made their temporary shelters. Many years ago, Kosi would flow along the route of Sursar River; gradually Kosi left that route and moved to west. When, on the night of eighteenth of August the embankment on the Kusaha gave way, from Baluabazar to Saharsa hundreds of villages were submerged or washed away. People fled their homes and villages and reached here carrying their belongings and children, with tears welled up in their eyes. They settled here for a shelter, even if temporary.  

Unfortunately, that embankment place has not been included in the relief register of the district administration. So, when those official people come to distribute eatables from the government, they would come up to the railway platform only. Just after fulfilling their scheduled duty, they would return without caring for those who have been left out. Only a handful of cadres from the peasant organizations, or the sanyasis (sages) of different ashrams or some N.G.O. people are standing by the side of these hapless men and women to help them fight their dreadful hunger.

Mostly it happens that when sattu (powdered Bengal gram) or chiura (parched rice) is distributed at the platform there, the people over here have to keep a fast. And when some kind hearted people come in groups to distribute food materials here, the people on the platform just keep on looking at the signal – ‘When will this red light become green for us? When the passage of food to us, on the platform, will be cleared?’

A state of peculiar contradiction exists between the two places of shelter, when one gets to eat; the other has to keep the fast.

So it can jolly well be said that Biroja is lucky. Half of his family lives on the platform and other half is there on the bund. So, here or there, where so ever if the food is distributed, every one of his family gets at least his or her little share. And the pangs of hunger are taken care of.

Biroja can still remember the scene of that dreadful night. Everything happened so suddenly that there was hardly any time left to think and take a decision in emergency.

‘Hey, get out of your houses. The flood water has arrived at our doorsteps!’ People were shouting all around in his neighbourhood.

Splash…splash…! That night when the water from the river entered their village, at first they were shocked. Everyone was at a loss to decide what to do. As his neighbours were doing, he too took all of his family members to the bund, ‘Don’t waste time, Janki’s mother, quick. Let’s go to the embankment.’

That night onwards the sky became their roof overhead. And the next morning when he came to know that the packets were being distributed at the platform, he rushed there with his sons, Murli and Madho, and his daughter Janakdulari, ‘Come on my children, let’s reach there before those people leave the place.’ The result of all these was that their names were entered in the platform register there.

‘O god! O Mahadeva!’Biroja whispers to himself, ‘I wish I could turn back the clock and bring the wheels of time to a stop!’ But he knew pretty well that he couldn’t do that. He is too helpless to fight against his lot. He is now sitting there near the hand pump just below the platform, and his gaze is fixed at some unseen place in the horizon. There is only one question burning in his mind, ‘Tomorrow or after that, what will happen? The flood water may take days to recede. Till then how can I manage everything? How can I feed my children and my wife?’

‘What the hell are you worried about, Biroja?’ Somebody, from behind, touched his shoulder, ‘Do as I have advised you to.’  

Biroja startles as if hit by a thunder bolt. He forgets to smoke the remaining butt of his bidi. He is thoroughly shaken when the burning end of the bidi touches the tip of his right forefinger, ‘Ouch!’ He shakes his hand in the air. He blows air on his finger and puts it in his mouth just to cool down the burning sensation.

‘Just see the current rate of the maize. Last year it was seven hundred. But this year? Just see for yourself. So, they all are left in the fields to rot. Those that have been brought here in the sacks are rotting too. None to lift them from the platform. I am worried about you. I just don’t know what will you eat yourself and how will you feed your children? Just think. We can pay you four thousand. And it’s not a trifle.’

Biroja is just looking at that man in stony silence. He forgets to utter a single word.

‘Well, bhaiya (buddy), if you’re not happy with this much, five hundred bucks more can be arranged. Not a single paisa more. See, nothing will be left for me. You are from my own village, so I’m doing this for the sake of you only, although surely it will be a huge loss for me. Well, what do ye say?’ He showed the folded thing on his waist. It was quite apparent that in the folds of his dhoti there was money there. He pulled Biroja’s right forefinger and pressed it on the swell below his shirt. 

“Oh!” Biroja lets out a cry. This is the finger which was burnt just now.

The man is scratching his bearded chin. It is a muggy August day; he is sweating and his shirt is wet in front and on his back. S,o he pulls up the stained collar of his shirt and looks around. Then he takes out a little box from his pocket. He sprinkles a little khaini (tobacco leaves) on his left palm and takes out a bit of lime with the tip of the finger and starts rubbing them together. When the mixture is ready after a few minutes, he blows the dust out of it for a while and offers it to Biroja, ‘Come on. The gods in heaven only know when the sacred food will be doled out to the starving people. Why don’t you realize every year this is the ‘loot of June’, a booty for many. If the embankment doesn’t give way, how on earth will it be repaired? And if it is not repaired how on earth the brother-in-law of our irrigation minister is going to get the contract of this repair work? Only we, the poor have to die. Isn’t it a fact? You must think how you are going to feed your children. How will you marry them off? So, I insist my friend, and say, just accept the deal. The yoke on your shoulder will become lighter.’

Biroja is unable to speak, as if he has been bitten by a snake. His eyes have the same feverish gaze that reflects upon the eyes of a carcass that floats in the water of overflowing Kosi.

‘You see the train is going to leave by evening. Once it departs, then you don’t have a chance any more. So, gear up. Let me suppose the deal is final then?’ The man vanishes in the huge sea of the crowd, just like a drop of water.

Daily two trains come from Katihar to Harrisongunj. The moment the train for Delhi arrived at the platform the people rushed towards it. Some are carrying on their heads all their household things wrapped in a cloth and tied with a knot. Others are carrying all their belongings in the tin boxes put on their heads. They’re leaving their ancestral homes in search of new pastures of life. Mostly young and adults they are. And some old ones are there too in the crowd. Only a few have their families with them. In this tempest of life they want to swim together. If their boats are capsized, they are ready to drown together. Life or death – they will face it together. The sage Valmiki had written about the exile of Ram, and the poet of the greatest epic the Mahabharata, Vedvyasa, had penned the story of the exile of the Pandavas, but who will write about the exile of these miserable thousands? Whose pen does hold so much fire and tears altogether?      

‘Dad, let’s go and bring didiya (elder sister) here.’ Murli is rubbing his face on the sweaty back of his father.

‘This train will leave too. Don’t know when they would come with the food packets?’ Madho can no longer bear the hunger pangs. Impatiently he tugs at the sleeve of his father’s shirt.     

‘Oh! They’ll come in jeep or truck. And not by any train.’ The elder Murli tries to explain and console his younger brother.

Biroja stands up. All the three are going to the canal. At this very moment that is the dwelling of every nine out of ten people living around the place.

Janakdulari was applying kajal (collyrium) just under the lower lids of the eyes of their youngest brother, Chotu. She runs towards them the moment she has seen them coming. She whispers to her brothers, ‘Today they would distribute over there, I guess. Isn’t it?’

‘That’s why we’ve come. Come on, quick.’ Although Murli and Madho are just little children, but they know pretty well that no one should get a wink that khichri (mixture of rice and pulses cooked together) is going to be distributed at the platform. If the news leaks out only they are to lose. So, while coming here, Biroja has been continuously reminding them, ‘Just don’t say anything to anybody.’ So, although their mouths are shut, a joyful expectation brimmed in their eyes. And their sister does not fail to read it.

“Ma, just hold Chotu.”Janakdulari puts her brother in her mother’s lap and goes out with them, ‘We’ll return shortly.’

 By the time the four of them arrived at the station, a truck had already reached there with the relief materials. The men and women were jostling in the crowd just to get the little bit of his or her share before anybody else. Scrambling, abusing and scuffling continued…. The humanity was dwarfed in front of the helplessness and the hunger.

None could wait and they started eating from their thalis. Murli says, ‘Let’s take something for maiya, dadda (grandpa) and dadi!’

‘Sure.’ says Biroja and before he could stand a man’s grip was there on his shoulder again. The man was standing just behind him. He gives a wink. Biroja pushes his thali towards Madho and follows him. The man walks up to the end of the platform, and Biroja is following him like a charmed snake.

‘Hey yaar, see, Kosi Sutluj Express will be leaving any moment. Keep this. Four thousand five hundred is here. Don’t worry. In future you can meet your daughter any time.’ The man pushes a bundle in his hand. Biroja withdraws his hands.

‘No, no. What the hell are you talking? I – I can’t accept this.’ Biroja is fumbling. It seems his voice lacks its strength. So much money! Altogether! As if it is god sent. Hey Issar (O god), save me!

‘Come on. Keep this. Just think – with this amount of money for how many days you can give your family a square meal each day. Man, can you ever remember how the stomach belches when it’s full?’ That man grabs Biroja’s hand and he pushes the money forcefully in it.

Biroja has now four thousand and five hundred crunched in his fist. And each note has an inscription printed on it – just below the pillar of the king Ashoka, beside the smiling face of Mahatma Gandhi, the father of the nation, – ‘Victory will prevail for the truth!’

‘Call her. Be quick. The train is about to leave.’ That man gives him a push.

But Madho is not pleased at all with this man. He is eyeing everything suspiciously. He says to his sister, ‘Didiya, what the hell does this man say every day to dad?’ There is frank irritation in his voice.  

Murli’s brows are raised too, ‘Maiya was abusing this man that day, and didn’t you hear?’ He too is at a loss. He fails to apprehend what is going on.

The Kosi Sutluj Express whistled. Suddenly that man comes running towards them. He took hold of Janakdulari’s wrist in a firm grip and he is dragging her on the platform.

Janakdulari starts wailing, ‘Babu, babu! Look, he is dragging me. Where is he taking me to? And why? Why don’t you do something, babu?’

‘Come with me, baby. You will rule like a queen there. Everything will be in your hand. You will get a square meal every day. To your fill. And I’ve already paid your father.’ God knows from where two of his accomplices have arrived and they are shielding the whole happenings. No one can see them. No one bothers.

Janakdulari is wailing. She tries to escape; she wants to cling to her father, but in vain. She wants to run to her father, but she cannot.

There were two policemen standing on the platform. Just a little while ago they were raising their lathis and abusing everybody, ‘Be off. Don’t make a mess.’ But right now they have just melted into thin air. Janakdulari’s shrill cry is drowned in the awful din of voices on the platform. The train starts moving. That man is dragging her. He jumps and gets into the train. He pulls her up.

Both her brothers are shaking their dad violently with their little hands, ‘Babu, that badmash is taking her away.’

The train is moving…..It is gathering speed…

Biroja rushes towards that compartment….He wants to get in, but….

That man was standing at the door. He hits him on his face with his fist, ‘Get off. I’ve already paid you. Go away, you dirty beggar!’

‘Janakia, my darling! Come back. Get down my baby.’ Biroja falls on the platform, from the running train.

‘Babu! Didiya, don’t go!’ Murli and Madho are running after the train. They are wailing. They want to get in.

But Kosi Sutluj Express is running too fast for them….

And the two brothers just fail to catch it.

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣      

© Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury

Contact: C, 26/35-40. Ramkatora. Varanasi. 221001. Mo. (0) 9455168359, (0) 9140214489 Tel. (0542) 2204504.

Email: asrc.vns@gmail.com

≈ Editor – Shri Hemant Bawankar/Editor (English) – Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM ≈




English Literature – Stories – ☆ The Result ☆ Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury

Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury

Brief Introduction

  • Birth –  -January 18, 1955
  • Education – MBBS (IMS/BHU)
  • Publications – 4 books (2 in Hindi, 1 each in English and Bengali) and two are yet to come.
  • Translations – Books and articles are translated in English, Odiya, Marathi and Gujarati.
  • Awards – CBT awarded  stories and novel, “Kamaleshwar Smriti Katha Award (2013, 2017 and 2019)” by Kathabimb.
  • Honour –  “Hindi Sevi Samman” by Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwa Vidyalaya, Wardha (December 2016). 

☆ Story -The Result ☆ Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury ☆

In the horizon, the sky was beginning to brighten. Bordering the green tree tops, a silvery white glow appeared gradually. The sun was already a bit up in the sky. The sunrays, sieving through the leaves, were peeping through the window, but little Arjun was still asleep.

‘Get up my son. You’re getting late for your school. ’Gargi started pushing Arjun, still lying blissfully in the centre of the double bed. 

‘Oh, amma, today is the result day.’ Without opening his eyes Arjun protested.

‘So what? Won’t your driver uncle Murari come to pick you up at 6.30 sharp? You must stand there on the street before he reaches, otherwise again he will be angry with you and complain to me, understand?’ Gargi was a bit agitated. She must finish her morning chores. But she was not able to start preparing the breakfast for everybody until she would send Arjun to his school.  

Arjun’s father, Anurag, was busy doing his daily shave. Standing in front of the wash-basin mirror, with his face covered with foams of shaving cream he said, ‘The verb ‘sleep’ already has a double e. But for our Arjun it consists of half a dozen of e’s. Ha! Ha!’   

Anyway, things started working. Arjun got up, brushed his teeth, quickly gulped a glass of milk under the watchful eyes of his mother, then straight way went to bathroom. Although in haste but he was happy because today he won’t have to carry the heavy school bag. Today their annual result would be declared. The students would get their progress reports. 

Before going out with his father to catch his daily auto he touched the feet of his grandfather and granny. They smiled and blessed him, ‘Don’t worry. Everything will be alright.’

‘Daddy, what will you get me today?’ While the father and son duo was waiting for the auto driver, Arjun shook his father’s hand.

‘And what do you want this year?’ Anurag looked into his face.

‘Of course a bat, you’ve already promised.’ The son was looking at his father with expectation. ‘It’s me and Krishna will play with it.’

‘Alright, I’ll get it for you if you get full marks in math.’ The father committed diplomatically.

‘Namaste, sirji.’ Murari, the auto driver, who arrived just in time, welcomed him, ‘Come inside and be seated.’

‘Bye!’ Anurag smiled, ‘Take care.’

Arjun shook his hand and got into the vehicle. The auto was running on the city road maneuvering the pot holes and the heaps of rubbles on its way.

As usual the auto was full up to its brim. Fully packed. Today at least it was not over burdened with fat school bags. The boys and girls were chirping like early morning birds. There were about ten of them. Some were awaiting their results very seriously. Others, a bit philosophical, thinking probably – ‘one has to reap what he has sown!’ And a few were really carefree to some extent.

‘Hi Krishna!’ Arjun pressed the hand of his best friend, sitting beside him.

A yellow coloured school bus over took the auto and immediately it became a prestige issue for the young riders. ‘Fast Murari uncle, speed up. Don’t let it go ahead of us.’ They exclaimed.

Near the school, the bus slowed down. It had to take a right turn. It left the main road and started plying slowly on the unmetalled gravel road. By that time Murari had just reached the turning point and now his auto was running ahead of the bus. The children burst into laughter, ‘Well done uncle! We must win the race!’ 

The bus driver honked his horn, but its sound was drowned in the collective cheers of the auto passengers, ‘Ho! Ho! We’re the first! We’re the first!’

Quite a few buses and autos were already standing there in front of the school boundary wall. The students started getting down. They were talking to each other loudly. Everyone was full of blissful expectations. Some were calling his friend alighting from another bus, ‘Rohit, wait. I’m coming.’

Everybody was moving like the colourful butterflies, flying in the air from flower to flower. School dress? Today? No, no one was in his or her school dress. Why should anybody put that on today? The boys wore coloured shirts, T-shirts and pants. The girls were in jeans, tops and capris. After all it was their result day. The end of the struggle for one whole year! After twelve months of ups and downs of joys and tears, at last the final day of achievement was at their doors. Everybody was in a festive mood.

On the other side of the main gate of the school, keeping a distance, there were men, selling ice creams, cold drinks and chips from their push carts. Two balloon sellers were standing expectantly. But now hardly there was any customer. The real crowd would throng after the report cards were given away and the students would come out. And then it would be their peak business hour.                           

The two friends were discussing something very important about their fathers. Arjun said, ‘Friend, do you know that my father didn’t have to study in UKG at all?’

‘My daddy too, says that he got admission directly in class two. See, they didn’t have any LKG or UKG in their schools. Such a nice thing!’ Holding his water bottle Krishnanand jumped from the auto.    

Both the friends were the students of UKG. Now they would get promoted to class one. From nursery to school. Today, a bar would be crossed in the hurdle race of their lives!

The boys and girls were talking in different groups, sitting or standing at different places. Some on the step of the staircase, others under the trees. 

Both of the friends were braving their way through the crowd. Today they didn’t have to go to their class first. Hand in hand they were eyeing all around. Thoughtfully, Krishnanand said, ‘Just last month my daddy sat for an exam in his office. I fail to understand what sort of exam they take. No result and no mark sheet. Daddy didn’t bring anything home.’

‘Yes, mama says if they clear their exams they get a raise in the salary, that’s all. The grownups are always happy. They don’t have to bother for anything. And for us, even if our result is good, we’ll have to ask our mums for everything that we want.’

They couldn’t solve this puzzle – ‘Why only the grown-ups have so much of freedom? They can do whatever they want. But we cannot go out and play when we wish to.’ Every child thinks when would he grow up? For him, the adulthood means a winged existence! But when they enter their adulthood they become quite nostalgic about their childhood memories.

They met some of their class fellows and talked with some of them.

Suddenly Arjun pulled the sleeve of his friend’s shirt, ‘Look at Adhyayan. Everybody knows he is going to top, but see, he is moving around with a gloomy face. As if he has really failed. Oh! And there, her mother is sitting there on the garden bench, reading Hanuman Chalisa so many times. What a circus!’

‘Arjun, I’m afraid too.’ There was a cloud on Krishnanand’s face.

‘Leave it, yaar. First, let the result come in hand. Why to weep before you fall on the ground, eh?’

‘You know, math makes me really mad. And last night daddy has warned me if I don’t do well in math he won’t spare me.’

‘Oh my god! Don’t our fathers have anything else to do? The moment they see us, they start asking, ‘Do you know this? Do you know that?’ Have they never been a child? Mothers are really nice. No?’

‘Because mothers, themselves, were afraid of math when they were in school.’ said Krishnanand and both of them laughed.

‘They have got only one problem. They start weeping when we do some mischief. That’s very bad.’ Arjun held Krishnanand’s hand and the two marched ahead.

In the mean while the school bell began to peal out. The students ran to assemble for the prayer. After the prayer it was the time for the morning sermon. The school principal smiled and said to the students, ‘Today you’ll get your result. The result of your hard work for one whole year. Many of you will be satisfied with the marks obtained. I congratulate them in advance. But to them who are not happy with their marks I must say, there is nothing to lose your heart. Work hard and next year you’ll do far better. The journey of life is a long one. And remember: Life is an exam where the syllabus is unknown and question papers are not set. In your school exams you’ve your teachers and your books to help you, but in your future life you’ll be all alone to brave your way against all odds. So all the best for your result and all my good wishes for all of you. There’s nothing to be afraid of, just enjoy your life!’   

The assembly was dispersed and all went to their classes. In their class, both the friends were waiting with their hearts throbbing like a running train. Their teacher called out each student’s name and handed over his or her result card. Some were smiling while some were just looking down. When the teacher called them, her eyes got fixed for a second on Krishnanand’s face while handing his report card over to him. Immediately Krishnanand realized that it was not a good omen.

As soon as they came out of the class, it was his math marks only on which Krishnanand focused his eyes. His face looked sullen. It became obvious that any time his eyes could rain tears.

‘What happened, my dear? Something wrong?’ Naturally, Arjun got worried for his friend.

‘Oh, my night-mare came true! Doomed in math!’ Krishnanand was trying hard to hold his tears, ‘Daddy will hardly talk to me.’

Arjun was trying hard to find a solution of the problem. His bosom was overwhelmed with love and sympathy for his friend. Suddenly his mind was struck by an idea. He put his hand on Krishna’s shoulder, ‘Come with me.’

‘But where?’ Krishnanand was a bit perplexed. 

‘Oh, just come along.’ Arjun pulled his hand and walked towards their class room.

When the teacher saw the duo, she smiled, ‘Krishna and Arjun, both the friends are here again, why? What’s the matter?’

Arjun went near her table and entreated her, ‘Ma’am, kindly give half of my math marks to Krishna. You won’t have to give anything separately. Just deduct from my marks and give it to him. Otherwise his daddy will scold him. He won’t talk to him. See, he is so sad. He’ll be so happy if you can do it. Just give him, ma’am, please.’      

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣      

© Dr. Amitabh Shanker Roy Choudhury

Contact: C, 26/35-40. Ramkatora. Varanasi. 221001. Mo. (0) 9455168359, (0) 9140214489 Tel. (0542) 2204504.

Email: asrc.vns@gmail.com

≈ Editor – Shri Hemant Bawankar/Editor (English) – Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM ≈




English Literature – Short Stories ☆ A Strange Reunion ☆ Shri Suraj Kumar Singh

Shri Suraj Kumar Singh

☆ A Strange Reunion ☆ 

 
Mounted on a saddled black horse, the bludgeoned knight came to his old friend.
The old friend that was the sea celebrated the knight’s homecoming. The expression of its joy in the form of tumultuous waves was enchanting.
“Oh dear knight, my good old friend you were born here, you grew here and you left only to come back! What pursuit you endeavoured that you took  a sabbatical from a playful innocent dream you saw with me? 
The knight replied, “The pursuit of truth my friend! To pierce through the melancholy of mortal existence and to know that anything acquired is not carried forever! It gets lost with the winds of time. What remains till the last breathe is the gift of God! Memories but not times, service but not conquests, souls but not people! No one can take them away
I have laid down my sabre which had engravings of accounts of my so-called victories and obituaries of the fallen warriors who dared to stand against it as I myself have become one”
The sea said “In the end you stand emancipated my dear you have emerged victor in the test of time. Find peace in the splashes of my incessant waves and the touch of the gushing winds for the selfless services you’ve rendered as a true sentinel, considering victory as your profession…!

© Suraj Kumar Singh, Ranchi

 

≈ Editor – Shri Hemant Bawankar/Editor (English) – Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM ≈




English Literature – Weekly Column☆ Samudramanthanam – 22 – Umbrella ☆ Mr. Ashish Kumar

Mr Ashish Kumar

(It is difficult to comment about young author Mr Ashish Kumar and his mythological/spiritual writing.  He has well researched Hindu Philosophy, Science and quest of success beyond the material realms. I am really mesmerized.  I am sure you will be also amazed.  We are pleased to begin a series on excerpts from his well acclaimed book  “Samudramanthanam” .  According to Mr Ashish  “Samudramanthanam is less explained and explored till date. I have tried to give broad way of this one of the most important chapter of Hindu mythology. I have read many scriptures and take references from many temples and folk stories, to present the all possible aspects of portrait of Samudramanthanam.”  Now our distinguished readers will be able to read this series on every Saturday.)    

Amazon Link – Samudramanthanam 

☆ Weekly Column – Samudramanthanam – 22 – Umbrella ☆ 

Then former king of heaven ‘Varuna’ came in front of all and said, “Indira you know better that I am the best king of Sura and heaven but destiny has made you king of heaven. You are asking how rain is falling without your permission. Are you forgetting that once all the water of universe including water of rain was in my custody? Now as Lord Brahma and Lord Vishnu made you king, they have also taken right of fresh water from me and now I am only the god of ocean water. So, this rain is generated by my ocean water because here everyone has got something or other thing but I haven’t got anything.”

Lord Brahma said, “Varuna, your argue and way is not the way of Devtas. You know that this churning will be helpful for Sura, Asura, sages, animals, birds in short for all live creatures of universe and you are doing wrong to disturb this churning by making ocean rain. And the point of gift which are coming as the byproduct of churning so it is our promise that next gem whatever it will emerge from this ocean ‘Kshirasāgara’ will belong to ‘Varuna’ only. Sura or Asura do you have any objection on it?”

Sura and Indira wants to finish this churning as soon as possible to get final outcome of as liquid of immortality, Amrita from ‘Kshirasāgara’ so they don’t mind if next thing will be given to ‘Varuna’ as in other hand from the day when little disturbance appeared in between the relations of ‘Indira’ and ‘Varuna’ from that day ‘Varuna’ is closer to Bali and Asura.

On the signal of ‘Varuna’ the rain of salty water stopped and churning started.

Now came a big canopy type thing from ocean. It was actually a very big umbrella which came at the surface of ocean.

This was a divine umbrella which was taken by ‘Varuna’ to save creature of ocean during any disaster. This umbrella was appearing on the day of Gawardhan.

© Ashish Kumar

New Delhi

≈ Blog Editor – Shri Hemant Bawankar/Editor (English) – Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM ≈




English Literature ☆ Stories ☆ Weekly Column – Samudramanthanam – 20 – Alakshmi ☆ Mr. Ashish Kumar

Mr Ashish Kumar

(It is difficult to comment about young author Mr Ashish Kumar and his mythological/spiritual writing.  He has well researched Hindu Philosophy, Science and quest of success beyond the material realms. I am really mesmerized.  I am sure you will be also amazed.  We are pleased to begin a series on excerpts from his well acclaimed book  “Samudramanthanam” .  According to Mr Ashish  “Samudramanthanam is less explained and explored till date. I have tried to give broad way of this one of the most important chapter of Hindu mythology. I have read many scriptures and take references from many temples and folk stories, to present the all possible aspects of portrait of Samudramanthanam.”  Now our distinguished readers will be able to read this series on every Saturday.)    

Amazon Link – Samudramanthanam 

☆ Weekly Column – Samudramanthanam – 20 – Alakshmi☆ 

Worshiping of ALakshmi is necessary so that she can leave and make place for beautiful ‘Lakshmi’. If you disrespect ‘ALakshmi’ she will leave you only to taste bidder lemon and chill and allow ‘Lakshmi’ to come, which you can welcome with sweet. This is the darkest night of kartik month called nark chuturdashi, bhhot chaudas and at this night you must accept darkness of universe and your inside then tomorrow you will definitely see beautiful ‘Lakshmi’

Alakshmi folded her hand towards Lord Vishnu and said, “O! my God. Thank you to be so gentle on me. Now I was born. I am the byproduct of people sins. Now I want to do merry. Please suggest me some Bridegroom”

Lord Vishnu saw towards sages, smiles and said, “sage Uddalaka would you like to be do marrying my elder sister-in-law, Alakshmi?”

Uddalaka said, “my dear God what is most pleasing then be your in -law, because Lakshmi is your wife and Alakshmi is her elder sister”

The wedding over, the sage took his wife to his ashram, but she found the place utterly unsuitable for herself. The chanting of the sacred hymns pained her. The atmosphere of peace, serenity and spirituality in the ashram suffocated her. Alakshmi ran out of the house right on to the street. The sage was distressed to see this. He found her conduct not only disgraceful but also completely incomprehensible. He asked her why she ran out of home, why she was crying and what she had found so terribly wrong in his ashram.

Then she told him what he never knew: she could not live in a Satwik (spiritually pure) environment and could live in only a Tamasik (spiritually degenerate) one. She could live where people are violent, hate one another, are jealous of one another, quarrel among themselves, praise themselves and engage in malicious talk about one another, steal, practice no sexual discipline, and where there is the smell of cooked meat. In essence, she could not live where there is cleanliness, calm, contentment and understanding, and where the sacred fire is lit and sacred mantras chanted.

The sage was aghast. He realized that he simply could not live with that woman. Such a woman would bring home only unhappiness and kula (lineage) only disgrace and eventually become the cause of her husband’s degradation in this world and in the other world too. He knew what the shastras had said; one must never live with a woman who is foul-mouthed, quarrelsome and negative. The virtuous sage did not hate her; nor did he feel cheated by Vishnu. He had no complaints against anyone. But at the same time, he realized that there was no possibility at all that his marriage with Alakshmi would work. She was not going to live in the ashram and he was not going to give up life as a sage and neither wanted to impose on the other the life one liked to live. He decided to abandon her.

Uddalaka soon approaches towards the side of ocean churning and said to Lod Vishnu, “My Lord I can’t live with Alakshmi”

Soon ‘Alakshmi also came and stood silence.

Lord Vishnu said, “Ok now I request the tree of Piple, Ficus religiosa to merry with you”

 

© Ashish Kumar

New Delhi

≈ Blog Editor – Shri Hemant Bawankar/Editor (English) – Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM ≈




English Literature ☆ Stories ☆ Weekly Column – Samudramanthanam – 17 – Uchchaihshravas ☆ Mr. Ashish Kumar

Mr Ashish Kumar

(It is difficult to comment about young author Mr Ashish Kumar and his mythological/spiritual writing.  He has well researched Hindu Philosophy, Science and quest of success beyond the material realms. I am really mesmerized.  I am sure you will be also amazed.  We are pleased to begin a series on excerpts from his well acclaimed book  “Samudramanthanam” .  According to Mr Ashish  “Samudramanthanam is less explained and explored till date. I have tried to give broad way of this one of the most important chapter of Hindu mythology. I have read many scriptures and take references from many temples and folk stories, to present the all possible aspects of portrait of Samudramanthanam.”  Now our distinguished readers will be able to read this series on every Saturday.)    

Amazon Link – Samudramanthanam 

☆ Weekly Column – Samudramanthanam – 17 – Uchchaihshravas ☆ 

Suras were doing churning of ‘Kshirasāgara’ without interest because it was already told by Lord Vishnu that next gem whatever it will be must be go to king of Asura ‘Bali’.

Indira in his mind thinking what will be the next outcome of our churning? What will happen when it appears something most powerful than we Suras possess? Then Asura will definitely defeat Sura.  No, I must have faith on Lord Vishnu.

At the other hand Bali is thinking, “What will be our first gem as a churning of ocean? Will it be useful or useless? Whatever be the outcome I’ll accept it as the will of Shri Narayana.”

Then sound of neigh started coming from the ocean. All were stunned there because that sound was looking very impressive and good to all ears, very different from normal horse sound.

All eyes were stop blinking they saw a most beautiful horse anyone ever saw coming out from ocean. Colour of that horse was snow white. No one can remove their eyes from that horse. That horse contains seven heads all of seven different colours similar to colours of rainbow. So that horse has seven different colour heads but snow-white body.

That horse was literally flying from ocean surface towards king of Asura ‘Bali’ from his white colour wings.

Horse stop just in front of ‘Bali’ and said, “O! Bali, the king of Asura I am ‘Uchchaishravas’ meaning “long-ears” or “neighing aloud”, from now onwards you are my master and I am your servant. I will follow your command in each case. Whenever I am with you no one can defeat you. I can fly in seven realms and five elements; no weapon can harm me. I am very happy that I have got chance to server brave and honest king like you”

King of Asura said, “Thank you best among the horses. Don’t think me like your master rather I am your friend and it is promise of Bali that I’ll treat you always be my friend till my last breath”

All there were happy except ‘Indira’. he was thinking that this is not right the best product of churning of ocean is given to ‘Bali’ this great horse deserve master like ‘Indira’.

Without second though ‘Indira’ throw ‘Indrajaal’, net of Indira or bound of ‘Indira’ to arrest ‘Uchchaishravas’ but Bali come in between Indrajaal and ‘Uchchaishravas’ and arrest in that.

Brahma said to Indira, “Indira what are you doing, Asura accepting all their faith and not done anything bad, even till now they didn’t get any gem of churning and you?”

Sage kashyapa said, ”Indira your name is perfectly suited to you. Desires of your ‘indriayas’ senses never fulfill. This is our order release the ‘Bali’ right now”

Meanwhile all the Asura who were participating in this churning of ‘Kshirasāgara’ got angry from this action of king of Sura and all together run fast towards Sura to do fight and release their king ‘Bali’.

But meanwhile ‘Uchchaishravas’ reaches where Indira has arrested ‘Bali’ in Indrajaal and within no time he cut all the bound of him from his teeth. Then he said to Bali, “My master is you alright? “

Bali reply, “Yes my dear friend”

Then ‘Uchchaishravas’ said, “I will kill ‘Indira’ right now”

Bali said, “No my dear friend. I know the role of ‘Indira’ to run affairs of universe so we can’t kill him”

Both teams were sitting apart and not doing anything. Churning of ‘Kshirasāgara’ is not taking place.

Lord Vishnu appears and said,” Indira you forgot what promise we have done with king of Asura Bali. You are least reliable demigod of universe. Bali just forget about ‘Indira’ fault and be remember that this churning will be beneficial for both of Sura and Asura. So, both teams go and start churning again. And Indira this is our last warning to you. And for ‘Uchchaishravas’, from today onwards Indira and his weapon can’t harm you and also in general rain will never harm to any horse”

After this Lord Vishnu disappear and churning stated again.

 

© Ashish Kumar

New Delhi

≈ Blog Editor – Shri Hemant Bawankar/Editor (English) – Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM ≈




English Literature – Short Story ☆ Fire ☆ Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM

Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM

(Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi—an ex Naval Officer, possesses a multifaceted personality. Presently, he is serving as Senior Advisor in prestigious Supercomputer organisation C-DAC, Pune. An alumnus of IIM Ahmedabad is involved in various Artificial Intelligence and High-Performance Computing projects of national and international repute. He has got a long experience in the field of ‘Natural Language Processing’, especially, in the domain of Machine Translation. He has taken the mantle of translating the timeless beauties of Indian literature upon himself so that it reaches across the globe. He has also undertaken translation work for Shri Narendra Modi, the Hon’ble Prime Minister of India, which was highly appreciated by him. He is also a member of ‘Bombay Film Writer Association’.)

We present an English Version of Shri Sanjay Bhardwaj’s Hindi Short Story  “आग ” . We extend our heartiest thanks to the learned author  Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi Ji (who is very well conversant with Hindi, Sanskrit,  English and Urdu languages) for this beautiful translation and his artwork.)

पुनर्पाठ…✍️

लघुकथा –आग  ☆

 दोनों कबीले के लोगों ने शिकार पर अधिकार को लेकर एक-दूसरे पर धुआँधार पत्थर बरसाए। बरसते पत्थरों में कुछ आपस में टकराए। चिंगारी चमकी। सारे लोग डरकर भागे।

 बस एक आदमी खड़ा रहा। हिम्मत करके उसने फिर एक पत्थर दूसरे पर दे मारा। फिर चिंगारी चमकी। अब तो जुनून सवार हो गया उसपर। वह अलग-अलग पत्थरों से खेलने लगा। 

 वह पहला आदमी था जिसने आग बोई, आग की खेती की। आग को जलाया, आग पर पकाया। एक रोज आग में ही जल मरा।

 लेकिन वही पहला आदमी था जिसने दुनिया को आग से मिलाया, आँच और आग का अंतर समझाया। आग पर और आग में सेंकने की संभावनाएँ दर्शाईं। उसने अपनी ज़िंदगी आग के हवाले कर दी ताकि आदमी जान सके कि लाशें फूँकी भी जा सकती हैं।

 वह पहला आदमी था जिसने साबित किया कि भीतर आग हो तो बाहर रोशन किया जा सकता है।

Fire …. ✍️ 

For the rights of hunting, the people of both the tribes were always indulging in throwing stones at each other, relentlessly. Some stones used to  collide with each other, leaving lightning like sparks, scaring people to run away in fear.

However, just one man always stood his ground, undeterred. Instinctively, gathering his guts,  he threw a stone aiming at the other one, with all his might.  Lo and behold, there emerged a bigger spark, lighting up the sky.  Now, he became obsessed with it.  He continued playing with different stones,  experimenting extensively, mastering the skill of lighting the fire…!

He was the first man who sowed fire, cultivated fire, reaped fire…  He was the pioneer who ignited the fire, cooked on fire; and, eventually one day, he died in fire…

But, in the annals of history  of mankind, he became immortal as he was the first man who introduced the fire to the world. He explained the difference between flaming-heat and the fire.  He demonstrated the possibility of baking _’on fire’ and ‘in fire’.  He consigned his life to the fire so that the mankind could learn that the dead bodies could also be cremated by fire.

He was the first man who proved that if there is a fire inside, then outside world could also be illumined.

 

© Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM

Pune

≈  Blog Editor – Shri Hemant Bawankar/Editor (English) – Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM ≈




English Literature ☆ Stories ☆ Weekly Column – Samudramanthanam -3 Manifestation of Goddess ☆ Mr. Ashish Kumar

Mr Ashish Kumar

(It is difficult to comment about young author Mr Ashish Kumar and his mythological/spiritual writing.  He has well researched Hindu Philosophy, Science and quest of success beyond the material realms. I am really mesmerized.  I am sure you will be also amazed.  We are pleased to begin a series on excerpts from his well acclaimed book  “Samudramanthanam” .  According to Mr Ashish  “Samudramanthanam is less explained and explored till date. I have tried to give broad way of this one of the most important chapter of Hindu mythology. I have read many scriptures and take references from many temples and folk stories, to present the all possible aspects of portrait of Samudramanthanam.”  Now our distinguished readers will be able to read this series on every Saturday.)    

Amazon Link – Samudramanthanam 

 ☆ Weekly Column – Samudramanthanam -3  Manifestation of Goddess ☆ 

After creation was completed sage Bhrigu and his wife Khyati went to meet the Lord Vishnu. Lord Vishnu was sitting on Sheshnaga and Goddess Lakshmi was sitting beside him.

Sage Bhrigu and his wife Khyati do Namste, salute to Lord Vishnu and Goddess Lakshmi  and then Bhrigu said, “O! all preservation, the core essence of you and mother Lakshmi  is already manifested in different creatures of nature, but now it is our hearty wish that Goddess Lakshmi will take her incarnation in our home, to remove obstacles of  earthly creature.

Lord Vishnu smiles and said, “Bhrigu you are above me, and my duty is to help great sages to sustain and run universe as per decided cycles and if you wish to be then Goddess Lakshmi will definitely take incarnation from the womb of your wife ‘Khyati’.

Almost one year later, on the night of Sharad Purnima in the hut of sage Bhrigu smell of millions of roses arise and moon was showering his radiant white light over that place. All the beautiful and symmetrical aspects of universe are surrounding the Bhrigu hut. Around 12:00 a.m. Khyati has given birth to a girl child. That child was such a beautiful that all world come to see her in bhrigu home. Gajraj, king of elephants came with his companions and do showering of Khsirshagar milk of that born girl who was actually the incarnation of Goddess Lakshmi. The little girl was born with the cushion of lotus flowers. All the good sign of fortunate start happening around that place. Many types of treasures start flowing over there.

Sage Bhrigu and his wife Khyati were amaze from all these and both do the salute to new born child girl Goddess Lakshmi.

Sage Kashyapa has many wives name of few are Aditi, Diti, Kalika, Tamra, Krodhavasa, Anala, Arista, Khasa, Surabhi, Ira, Sursa etc.

Aditi has given birth to 12 Adityas, 8 Vasus and 11 Rudras. These all assign as demigods of nature and natural cycles as well as cosmos cycles of lower level. The twelve Adityas are Data, Aryaman, Mitra, Sakra, Varuna, Amsa, Bhaga, Vivasvan, Pusa, Savita, Tvasta and Vishnu (incarnation of maha Vishnu, one of the trimurti of hindus), 8 Vasus are Dhara, Dhruva, Soma, Ahas, Anila, Prabhasa and Anala, 11 Rudras, the incarnations of Lord Shiva are Ajaikapat, Ahirbudhnya, Virupaksa, Suresvara, Jayanta, Bahurupa, Aparajita, Savitra, Tryambaka, Vaivasvata and Hara.

Diti has given birth to many Daityas, few of which are Surapadma, Simhavaktra, Vajranga, Gomukha, Hiranyaksa, Hiranyakasipu, Simhika and Ajamukhi.

Kashyapa wife Krodhavasa has given birth to many different creatures of earths including, Mruga who was first creature of animals, Mrgamanda who given birth to Rksa, Srmara and Camara.

Krodhavasa also given birth to Hari from which lineage of Lions and Monkeys stated.

Bhadramata given birth to Iravati the mother of elephant Eiravata.

Other elephants were born from Matangi.

Krodhavasa also given birth to Saduli from which Tigers and leopards generated.

She also given birth to Sveta who given birth to eight elephants who hold the globe of earth from eight directions.

Surabhi given birth to Rohini mother of all cattle and Gandhavri, mother of all horses.

Surasa given birth to Nagas (Serpents)

Kadru given birth to all reptiles.

Sage Kasyapa other wife Tamra given birth to some other children, Kraunci responsible for owl family birth,

Bhasi for Bhasas, Syeni for Hawks and eagles, Dhrtarastri for Swans and ruddy geese

Suki given birth to Nata,

Vinata given birth to Aruna and Garuda.

So, platform was ready. Almost all creature has been created and role of Brahma in first cycle of life about to end and now task of Vishnu is ready.

Brahma married his daughter Shachi, to Indra and made Indra as kind of heaven and all Devtas. In fact, he was not deserving contender for king and inferior from Varuna in all counts. But it was done and now Varuna was very upset and decided to be spy of Asura or Danava whose location was fixed to under earth. Asura were also not happy with this arrangement.

Cycle of time is passing like always.

© Ashish Kumar

New Delhi




English Literature ☆ Stories ☆ Weekly Column – Samudramanthanam -1 ☆ Mr. Ashish Kumar

Mr Ashish Kumar

(It is difficult to comment about young author Mr Ashish Kumar and his mythological/spiritual writing.  He has well researched Hindu Philosophy, Science and quest of success beyond the material realms. I am really mesmerized.  I am sure you will be also amazed.  We are pleased to begin a series on excerpts from his well acclaimed book  “Samudramanthanam” .  According to Mr Ashish  “Samudramanthanam is less explained and explored till date. I have tried to give broad way of this one of the most important chapter of Hindu mythology. I have read many scriptures and take references from many temples and folk stories, to present the all possible aspects of portrait of Samudramanthanam.”  Now our distinguished readers will be able to read this series on every Saturday.)    

Amazon Link – Samudramanthanam 

 ☆ Weekly Column – Samudramanthanam -1 ☆ 

 

The flux of consciousness, energy, and matter in which nothing is inseparable is Shakti, “Maa Amavarunai”, from her ever-changing Rajas means Vishnu tattva make manifestation possible. When Sattva is about to reach on their threshold the interplay of Sattva, Rajas and Tamas generate first sound, the un-struck sound of ॐ ‘Om’. Then in fast vibrations, first there generate a source of light from center of vibrating Rajas of the Nabhi, Navel of Lord Vishnu. Same time the Tamas fall out separately, study without motion means Lord Shiva and that source of light is actually Lord Brahma, the father of all creature.

When one cycle is completed then again, all three Sattva, Rajas and Tamas merge in to one and complete darkness again. This is the process of manifestation and un-manifestation or creation and obliteration. This is ongoing from immortal time. No one can identify space and time separately in the phase of obliteration.

So, when that light source or Brahma is generated from the Nabhi, Navel of vibrating ‘Rajas’ or Vishnu. He saw that my source of generation is coming from center of vibrating energy. This thinking separated consciousness and matter in that light and a body is appear who is in panic because he was all alone. He bends his head towards that vibrating energy which was also taken the form of beautiful nature creation. So as consciousness of Brahma passes through energy and matter of hid body all his senesce generated then he asked from Lord Vishnu, “O! my creature, who I am and who are you? Why we are alone why I am emerging from your body part from where a beautiful amalgamation of matter (Lotus flower) is going outside, over which I am setting. Please say something because I am feeling very lonely and I am very fearful. I don’t know why my structure upper part has one hole (mouth) which is vibrating and a different sensation is going outside in this vast space? I just feel that something from my middle part of body (heart) is going towards my most upper part (brain) then some sensation is coming out from this hole (mouth)”

 

© Ashish Kumar

New Delhi




English Literature – Weekly Column – From Nidhi’s Pen # 13 ☆ The Migrant Worker ☆ Dr. Nidhi Jain

Dr. Nidhi Jain  

(Dr. Nidhi Jain is an Assistant Professor at Bharti Vidyapeeth, College of Engineering, Pune. She selected teaching as her profession, but it was a dream to be a litterateur. Her first book कुछ लम्हे  is a culmination of her interest. Her time management of family,  profession (Teaching in engineering science) and literature is exemplary. Today we present her short story with poem “The Migrant Worker“.)

☆ Weekly Column ☆ From Nidhi’s Pen  #13 ☆ 

☆ The Migrant Worker ☆  

I woke up in the morning, in the darkness only small light coming from the night lamp which was hanging on the wall. I started searching for my watch which I keep on my bedside table. It was 4 O’ clock in the morning. I started to toss and turn on my bed. After 15 minute, I started feeling uncomfortable. I wanted to get rid of my bed. The smooth bed, silk bed cover and woolen cozy quilt were not able to comfort me.

I went to the drawing-room which was full of beautifully decorated things. I rolled my eyes on the showcase. I started gazing each and every object sleeping comfortably on the showcase. I consoled myself that they were non-living, without heart and blood. They all beautifully decorated and transported from across the world.

I went outside into the balcony. Night was still holding the dark clouds. The stars were smiling and telling me, “I will go soon from the sky when the big boss sun comes to meet us. The sun is like a policeman for all the stars”. These stars captured and stole the light of the sun. When the sun comes they have to run.  The moon is the leader of all thieves. He remains full night in full swing without taking rest. The moon motivates the star to stay fearlessly in the sky without caring about the guilt of stealing the light.

Street lights were on. The rains drops were dazzling from the sky. They were meant to fall. The leaves of the trees were holding their hands sometimes. But the weight of the rain drops was increasing; the leaves cannot hold the pressure and stress and allow rain drops to fall. The edges of the building were also pushing rain drops to fall because they were meant to fall.

The breeze was touching my cheeks. Hairs were holding the hands of the breeze to fly but not able to leave their roots. The temples of my face were still talking with the worries. The hot air was jumping from my nostril to escape, from the inner lava that makes the eye to remain open.

The eyes were the window for the outer world. The eyelids were stuck on the roof of my eyes, not allowing to shut, which was governed by the chemicals of my brain. The worries were in full swing. They were rolling inside the brain doing all sorts of exercises to keep me awake.

Tensions are the output of all types of exercises the brain does. I was gazing and allowing my ears to do some work.

The only person I saw sleeping comfortably was the migrant worker in the half-constructed building. I stopped myself. I started churning and juicing my tensions. I instructed my mind to throw the dirt of mind. What I was thinking about? Is this way of living? What is my destiny? Peace is the only destiny.

Now the world became pleasant. The ears started listening to the beautiful music of the chirping of the birds. The darkness started fading. The breeze started kissing me. I was here to change myself, not the others. The world was only a reflection of ourselves. The shades of worries started running from my body. I was waiting for the sun to come. Feet started working and took me to the bed. I went to sleep again with a smile on my face.

 

Nothing to lose, nothing to gain, he went to sleep again.

Full day he works,

Taking mud and sand,

Never takes rest,

Works his best,

Nothing to lose, nothing to gain, he went to sleep again.

 

Night lamps are on or shut,

Nation economics are up or cut,

Rich are behind name or fame,

His hopes are concentrating on work not on dirty game,

Nothing to lose, nothing to gain, he went to sleep again.

 

No house, No bank balance,

No insurance, No worries,

Only single bed to sleep,

Days are passed, but nights are only to sleep.

Nothing to lose, nothing to gain, he went to sleep again.

©  Dr. Nidhi Jain,  Pune