Sunday, January 2, 2011

A Salute to Motherhood

<$BlogItemFeedLinks$>

In 2004 I had my small godown/warehouse with a small office for distribution of consumer goods, one morning when I opened the shutter to my surprise there was this cat right in front of me inside my godown waiting for me to open so she could go out, later my staff informed me there were 4 kittens in one of the empty cartons.

Two evenings later one of my staff informed me that it was time to close and the cat was missing, I told him lets wait for some time and she should be back by than, we waited for a full hour and yet she did not return, he suggested ‘let us keep the box out’, I said ‘the stray dogs may maul them’. No sign of the cat that day we left without the cat inside.

I did not sleep the whole night and reached my office almost two hours earlier next day, expecting the cat waiting outside for some one to open and to my surprise she was not there. I opened the locks and shutters and rushed inside to see the fate of the kittens, well they were safely cuddled with their mom right there, I was shocked in disbelief how did she enter? I inspected allover, I saw the cats hair strewn near the shutter, it was through a loose tin sheet over the shutter, she must have had use a lot of force and still the passage was insufficient when I saw her I realized she had cut and bruised herself while getting in from the small space.

I saluted MOTHERHOOD one of Gods most lovely creation.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Children of God

<$BlogItemFeedLinks$>

The day 8/8/8 I am waiting for the 9.28 a.m. Virar local on platform no.4 thinking about viewing the inauguration of the 29th Olympic Games on television in the evening and suddenly I see this beautiful girl may be 16, crawling on her hands and dragging her thin frail legs, begging for alms.

I was watching her crawling towards me, she had a clear complexion, fair and beautiful, except her legs crippled and very thin, her arms seemed to be more stronger as she had to use them to pull her body around while crawling. Her left leg was so thin, frail and lifeless that she had to hold it with her hand and pull it forward every time she moved.

As she approached me out of pity I put my hands in my pocket for a coin as I could not bear the sight and her humiliation. She came towards me and raised her steel glass almost full and brimming with coins and a 10 rupee note, I had never seen a beggar carrying that sort of money, atleast not flaunting it. Immediately I put my coin into her glass.

She was wearing a red printed night gown and was pulled high up to her thighs to make her thin frail legs clearly visible. I was wandering why she was appearing so vulgar and not wearing a salwar-kameez (type of Indian slacks and tops), I realized soon it was the trick of the trade as a salwar would had covered her thin frail legs and most probably resulted in bad business.

I have always been reluctant to give alms as I have seen blind ones perfectly rushing to the doors of next compartment and or perfectly stopping at window of one car to another. I have seen men dropping the crippled at stations in the morning and picking them at late night, parents forcing children to beg at highway junctions while they are busy with petty jobs around or busy begging around themselves. I have believed begging is rather a mafia than out of necessity. But I don’t know why I gave her alms this time.

As soon as the girl had moved ahead I realized she was being followed by a stout lady in a yellow saree. My eyes started following both of them. The lady muttered something and pointed to a corner and the crippled girl moved aside below the bridge and the lady sat next to her on the floor. I saw the lady trying to pull the glass of coins from the girls hand and the poor girl trying to resist and hold on to the glass. It seemed she was a newly inducted into the fraternity and her efforts will bear no fruits. The lady pulled harder and the girl could not resist further against her might and gave up. The lady pulled a loose end of her saree and emptied the glass into it and started counting.

The little girl was ashamed of her defeat, it was her money and someone had robbed her of it. She saw around if some one was watching, her eyes met mine and her head bowed in shame. Shame on me! I had done nothing to protect her against that stout ladies might? Can I fight the system? I am busy in my own small selfish world, neither I have the time or the resources or the courage.

The day 8/8/8 opening of the 29th Olympic Games in China a expenditure of approximately US $ 44 Billion spent on the event. 204 countries participating and spending another few billions sprinting for medals. Every performance and the fire works was bringing the picture of the poor girl child to my mind. Many of her kind will be begging for ever because I don’t care and she cannot fight the might of that stout lady and others of her kind. I limp to act SHE crawls to survive. The world consist of many selfish men like me. Sorry God! Forgive Me!! Please!!!


This photograph was taken last week when I saw her again but this time she was more relaxed and is seen sharing a wada-pav (burger) with her caretaker (that fat stout lady). It seems she has accepted the way of life.

Monday, February 9, 2009

The Child Goddess

<$BlogItemFeedLinks$>
My parents cried the day I was born they were expecting a boy. Not that they did not love me but it seemed I was always unwanted by them. I was just 4 and the temple announced that they wished to install a new living Goddess. Mother seemed to be excited, father had just returned from the temple after meeting the head priest and submitting my photograph and Janam Kundli (Horoscope) to the temple authorities.

What if I was the chosen with whom will I play and who will be my friends, can I play with my favourite doll Guddi or will I have to stand all day and night like the other Gods in the temple do, but they are made of stones will they turn me into a stone.

The call has finally come and I have become the chosen one. There is great fanfare around young, old and children dancing with joy. I don’t know when my father last held be in his arms but today I am perched on his shoulders for all to have a glimpse.

God I cannot understand your world, they cried when I was born and now I am proclaimed Goddess and henceforth will bow before me. God I cannot even laugh at your practical joke, I am restrained even to smile in your world. The life ahead is as good as a stone. God how do you live this life.

I met some women here I understand they are Goddesses of the past. Little knowledge, without much education they say they have no where to go. The world out is very bad they say and do not spare even a Goddess they have bowed before every day. Yet inside, we will one day die in despair.

Friday, May 30, 2008

A Happy Married Life

<$BlogItemFeedLinks$>

When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I've got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly, I observed the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. ‘I want a divorce’. I raised the topic calmly. She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the plate and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to a lovely girl called Diane. I didn’t love her anymore. I just pitied her!

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Diane so dearly. Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release, release from he bond.

The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now. The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn’t have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Diane.

When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again. In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month’s time and she didn’t want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.
This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into our bridal room on our wedding day. She requested that everyday for the month's duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request.
I told Diane about my wife’s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully.

My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, ‘daddy is holding mummy in his arms’. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don't tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn't looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me. On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn't tell Diane about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by.

Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily.
Suddenly it hit me. She had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head. Our son came in at the moment and said, ‘Dad, it's time to carry mum out’. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last minute.

I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was just like our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn’t noticed that our life lacked intimacy.

I drove to office... jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind. I walked upstairs. Diane opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Diane, I do not want the divorce anymore.

She looked at me, astonished, then touched my forehead. Do you have fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Diane, I said, I won't divorce. My married life was boring probably because she and I didn't value the details of our lives, not because we didn't love each other any more. Now I realize that. Since I carried her into my home on our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until death does us apart. Diane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away.

At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I'll carry you out every morning until death do us apart.

The small details of our lives are what really matter in a relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, property, the money in the bank, etc. … etc. These only create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness themselves. So find time to be your spouse's friend and do those little things for each other that build intimacy.

Do have a real happy married life!

Saturday, May 24, 2008

A Mothers Sacrifice

<$BlogItemFeedLinks$>

My mom only had one eye. I hated her... she was such an embarrassment. My mom ran a small shop at a flea market. She collected little weeds and herbs to sell... anything for the money we needed desperately. There was this one day during elementary school.

I remember that it was a annual day, and my mom came to school. I was so embarrassed.

How could she do this to me? I gave her a hateful look and ran out. The next day at school..."Your mom only has one eye?!" my friends taunted me.

I wished that my mom would just disappear from this world. I reached home and I said to my mom, "Mom, why don't you have the other eye?! You're only going to make me a laughingstock. Why don't you just die?" My mom did not respond. I guess I felt a little bad, but at the same time, it felt good to think that I had said what I'd wanted to say all this time.

Maybe it was because my mom hadn't punished me, but I didn't think that I had hurt her feelings very badly.

That night...I woke up, and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. My mom was crying there, quietly, as if she was afraid that she might wake me. I took a look at her, and then turned away. Because of the thing I had said to her earlier, there was something pinching me in the corner of my heart. Even so, I hated my mother crying, tears dropping from her one eye. I told myself that I would grow up and become successful, because I hated my one-eyed mom and our poverty.
I studied really hard. I left my mother and came to Seoul and was accepted at the Seoul University, with all the confidence I had. I got married, bought a house of my own and had kids, too. I was living happily as a successful man. I liked it here because it did not remind me of my one eyed mom.

Days passed and I seemed to be more happier with every passing day, when someone unexpected came to see me "What?! Who's this?!" ...It was my mother...Still with her one eye. It felt as if the whole sky was falling apart on me. My little girl ran away, scared of my mom's eye.

And I asked her, "Who are you? I don't know you!!!" I pretended as if I didn’t knew her and tried to sound as real as I could. I screamed at her "How dare you come to my house and scare my daughter! GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!!!" And to this, my mother quietly answered, "Oh, I'm so sorry. I may have got the wrong address," and she disappeared. Thank goodness... she doesn't recognize me I said. I was quite relieved. I told myself that I wasn't going to care, or think about this for the rest of my life.

Then a wave of relief came upon me....one day, a letter regarding a school reunion came to my house. I lied to my wife saying that I was going on a business trip. After the reunion, I went down to the old shack, that I used to call a house...just out of curiosity there, I found my mother fallen on the cold ground. I did not shed a single tear. She had a piece of paper in her hand.... it was a letter to me.

She wrote:

My son...

I think I have lived long enough now. And.... I won't visit Seoul anymore... but would it be too much to ask if I wanted you to come visit me once in a while? I miss you so much. I was so glad when I heard you were coming for the reunion. But I decided not to go to the school.... For you... I'm sorry that I only have one eye, and I was an embarrassment for you.

You see, when you were very little, while playing, you met with an accident, and lost your eye. As a mother, I couldn't stand watching you growing up with only one eye... so I gave you mine...I was so proud of you my son that you were seeing a whole new world for me, with that eye. I was never upset at you for anything you did. The couple of times that you were angry with me, I thought to myself, 'it's because you love me.' I miss the times when you were still young and around me.

I miss you so much. I love you. You mean the world to me.

My world shattered!!!

That day I cried for the person who lived for me... My Mother

(A Korean Story - Anonymous)