While it rained...

My eyes used to take me till the horizon where a distant tree met the marshy land. I could see people, though scarce in number and outspread on the field, working as farmers for the crop…The crop that would feed them and us. I witnessed how their hard work benefited us, they made grains available for ourselves to buy. Then, I wondered that someday my hard work would help others too.

Interlaced with their sweat, rain washed the land. They ploughed and ploughed, till the land was ready to produce. In the uninterrupted pelting of rain, maverick birds flew through the wind…Some flew against, while some steered along with the wind.  I felt caged with all my defects in the small room at the roof, while children played outside. It was water here and there, and everywhere.

I heard happiness. I saw it too. I saw secrecy in the ambience where each one conspired for a productive tomorrow. Farmers, birds, children, trees, and the God, they unified themselves below the pouring cloudy sky. I felt caged, but they enjoyed. They enjoyed themselves to the fullest, mocking me of the pitiful captivity I was in. Real chains were not necessary, my own thoughts of my defects had made me a slave.

After clouds faded off slowly into the pitch black and while the rain continued, a wise owl obliged me by resting at my window. I don’t remember when my eyes closed and how I leapt into the house of a farmer. But before I could have completed my play with their children, the owl woke me up. He said that he has come to my rescue, to unchain me. ‘The key to your chains is in your point of view’, he said.

The next day was different. I heard happiness and I saw it too. But I became a part of the ambience now. Farmers, birds, children, trees, me, and the God, everyone unified themselves below the pouring cloudy sky, and we conspired for a productive tomorrow. The gloom of grey in surroundings was changed, because my point of view was changed. Keys to the most endured locks lie within us.

Read More →

In the mood of festival: Happy Sankranti

The weather is intensively cold, the sky is dim, and the fog has covered a large part of the city. But unlike weather, the zeal in people is high. And why should not it be, today is Makar Sankranti after all. In Bihar, the type of Tilkut you get here and of varied types, I guarantee one can’t have them elsewhere in India. Gud (Jaggery) and Til, which form the major ingredients for most of the dishes made in this festivity, have started to water my mouth with its aroma. But before I can relish upon the dishes, we will do the Puja at our home. My mom knows the rituals better, while I just know that the day will be awesome for the foodie me. :D

While I am typing this, I recall two seasons of Sankranti I enjoyed staying in Gujarat. Two years back, I posted about my experience here on my blog too.
I agree on this that the energy level and the scale for preparation in Gujarat is more avid than in Bihar. The kite fight, and kids running after the falling swaying kites till the end of the streets were worth watching. I was amazed to see that many road side stalls selling goggles and hats specifically for kites flyers. People would wear them while they are at terrace for the kite fight. And a toy organ pipe, which they would blow loudly to make fun of and embarrass the losers. With the whole ambience on this festival it feels like ‘yes its good to be in India’.

This festival may have different names, but the extent of happiness in each is unfathomable. I wish all my friends, and readers at my blog a very Happy Makar Sankranti. :)

Puja in Phailin

Vijaya Dashmi, the symbol of victory of good over evil, has gone off the hood of festivity, and it seems the zeal has weakened among the wide span of people. Nine days of festive mood took the turn otherwise and led the grudge sprawl across the eastern India in form of cyclone Phailin. Other than the major devastation which the devil with more than 200kmph speed caused in Andhra Pradesh and Odisha, now decreased at the speed of 45-50 kmph is moving across Bihar and affecting the region with heavy rainfall. The end to these nine days of celebrations, bestowed with offerings in form of vrat and worship, will result into a dull day full of hopelessness in a closed room was never expected by me.

It has been more than 35 hours, proper supply of electricity has not been restored in Patna. Last night we compromised with no electricity and scarce supply of water left in our tanks. Today too, with two hours of electricity only, the compromise continued. I have made a notion, which at this situation seems so apt. ‘The Good has certainly stopped winning over the Bad.’ :D Unburnt residuals of giant Ravana at Gandhi Maidan today in this weather, might infer the same. :P

5 years back, those days when I was still in school, the zeal for Puja used to be different. The height of festivity was not only high for me, but I could sense that among the masses on the road too very easily. Time has changed now, interests have been manipulated. I roamed half of the Patna on Maha-Ashtami, but couldn't find the essence that still lingers at the back of my mind. Where has the honesty crept in? Why do the rituals at the front appear superficial on the thick coat of disguise?

In the state/nation where the status of women is jeopardized, I am confused why so much of pom-pom for Durga Puja? On Navmi ( the ninth day of Durga Puja), the devotee invites Kunwari Kanya (maiden) to feed them as a ritual which completes the nine days of worship. Whats the need for such a falsification outside, when no respect and dignity stays inside. Be it a regular day, or within the crowd of Durga Puja on the road, eve-teasing and illicit comments are very much common. The intentions in the eyes and glances itself tell the whole story. I pick up my previous notion and refine it a bit. ‘The Good is not left to the extent that it can win over the extolling Bad’.

Electricity is yet to come. It’s raining hard outside. The laptop power I saved is almost over now.  
I pray everyone stays safe, and for them who suffered the blows of Phailin in Andhra and Odisha may get rehabilitated soon. I pray the mother to bestow kindness, and help us stay honest to ourselves.

Read More →

If I Could Fly...

If I could fly,

I would flee high,

Up into the sky,

Where every night is Diwali,

Resides our Almighty,

And his ruling ecstasy.

Where stars are lover,

Of their velvety cover.

Together they form

Constellations among,

Their vast spread out,

Astro miles away,

Their rapping gleams,

And albumen ray.

I sigh,

For if I could defy,

The heated 'Surya',

I would flee high,

Up into the sky,

To lift it up

From the green paddy,

And move it above

Up into the blue howdy.

You have your adorned 'Rath',

But still on every 'Chath',

Why you move slow

And delay in every go?

Don’t make devotees weak,

With your move slow

Again on this festive streak.

Bless us with light

With your intense bright,

Make us brave

And vanish our fright.

Don’t fold our wishes

Into pile of files,

Like those police cases

In our human races,

Which has no ending,

No justice;

And always kept pending.

This time, do some quicky,

Shower us with love

And some happy squeaky.

Or else I will fly,

I will fly high,

Up into the sky,

Where you live in your hive.

I won’t wait

And make my cries thrive,

I have learnt from my races,

So I won’t forget to carry,

A token of bribe…

Copyrights - ANSHUL GAUTAM'S

Images in this post - Google Images Search

(Happy Festive lights, and a very Happy Chath Puja to all my friends... :) )

Read More →