A choice, AM I?

Deep inside my heart is a pain which cannot be fathomed by anyone; while I kept asking the Lord, why am just an option in everyone's life.

Born was I with a lot of hope but even then I was an option; the Lord smiled at me and said, you are a fortune to many.

Fortune to many, yes; I am but who is that one who will treasure this fortune until the ultimatum, Lord smiled again and said – Fortune prefers the brave.

Brave people are many, yet the fortune is unguarded; looked I surprisingly at the Lord, he brushed my hair and said – Come to me, I love you! 

The Story of Nicko and Bruni..... "A saga of an everlasting friendship"

One fine day as I woke up jobless, I wanted to escape into a place where none would find me, not even my mother. All I had to do was just leave a note and start off, my idea was to let go a lot of things, people and attachment but least did I know that I would be stuck up with one for a lifetime.

As I looked around for a bus to hop into, I found the one that took me to my most favorite destination of all time. Yeah, Mangalore! I got inside the local bus and started my journey towards this place and exactly in the morning at 6 AM I was in this ever charming city of Mangalore. With absolutely no ideas, I wandered around thinking of what should I be doing next when the conductor screamed, “Kasargod, Kasargod”! Even without thinking twice, I jumped into the bus, sat next to an old man happily smiling away to glory with the thoughts of violent waves from the Beach in Bekal Fort hitting my face.

It was a couple of hours journey from Mangalore to Kasargod, got down and started walking towards the fort. With my blue hat (BAE) on my head trying to challenge the Mr. Hot Sunny was really appreciable. With a bag hung on my back, I started walking upwards to perch on a wall close to the waves. I laid down on the wall dangling my legs and listening to one of the old melodies from Kishore Da's collections when a pair of unknown hands startled me. Even before I got up to see what it was, the creature with two pair of limbs had started running away with my hat in his hands looking back teasingly at me. I am no athlete, yet I wanted to get back my BAE back, I chased the creature and no sooner was I about to lay my hands on him came four more people to scare me away. I was breathless and I realized that it was pointless running anymore.

I stopped and turned around to see the guy standing right behind me with my hat in his hands and demanded for my name, when I said my name it got registered as Bruni and he was Nick. Nicko, is what I started to call him.

Here I stop my writing, the more I write the more I miss you, the less I write, the better I feel and the more you will stay in my heart forever.

Some people walk into your life for a brief period and leave the impressions forever.

Messiah - Are you there?

May everyone call me worthless, I do not care – it is just your words that matter to me the most.

May everyone abandon me and do not acknowledge my presence – I do not worry – but when you do it; a pinch of being an orphan hits my mind and my heart.

I know you are a messiah of my life; a bundle of confusions await me before I am showered with something that I need and not want.

Is God so cold on this child of his that he does take away everything she longs for?

Are you really there? If yes, use your wand of magic and bless me now – with every second of my life to be, “As I wish”, “As I wish”.

Seeking solace in the arms of you, with tears rolling down my cheeks and blessings that lasts forever to unite me with my soul-mate now and forever.

May my soul-mate realize that I am here waiting every second just for him and just for him…..

Book Review - "The Pregnant King" - Devdutt Pattanaik

He wept for his family, his mothers, his brother and for his grand-mother, Shilavati and finally he wept for his father, The Pregnant King".

The book describes so well, the law of nature and as you flip through the pages, you would be able to clearly differentiate the conventional and unconventional way of life. The tale of a king, desperately wanted to be a father for the sake of the throne. Shilavati, A woman with every quality of a King should possess but is denied to be accepted as the "KING"because, she is a lady. A man who wants to sing and live his life but is not allowed to do so, he is the only heir and a King isn't supposed to do so. In short, we all want to be something but end up being something else. Who becomes a Chakravarti or who is eligible to be a real Chakravarti? The whole book turns out to be a mystery and slowly unveils itself to the readers. The queens of Yuvanashva seeking blessings from Ileshwara for kids, shows ego or status does not matter in front of the Supreme power. Somvati and Sumedha gets killed and they seek revenge and call Yuvanashva their father, showing souls do not die. Later, the king renounces everything and even his beloved mother and as she whines like a small kid showing how materialistic life bound her till that day in her royal attire and in front of he gates of the palace on the lap of her daughter-in-law. Karma has answers to everything.The patterns of nature need to be understood and it is as agile as a waterfall and as still as the Mountain. So, there is nothing wrong or right according to nature, it always tries to balance things out.

Sometimes, the content of the book becomes a little monotonous when Yuvanashva gets married and longs for children, the attempts he makes to get children and the way they take a visit to the Ileshwara temple and the rituals they follow to get children. Sometimes, the concepts explained and the linking to people in the past with the king also needs a little improvisation, it gets a little tough to understand at times. However; a great read to understand the concept of he "Law of Nature".

While the cousins fought the war of Kurukshetra, Shilavati was busy making her son a King and the King sulked if he is a mother or father of Mandatta while Jayantha silently watched the dissatisfied souls around him. While Yuvanashva drowned in his own thoughts of knowing if anybody else other than him had enjoyed the pleasure of being a man and a woman.
Everybody born has to undergo their shares of deeds,be it a king or a king-maker. It's all about the game of Yama and Kama, it's all about the deeds and misdeeds, it's all about balancing things. It's ultimately the "LAW OF NATURE"  and the path to Salvation.

So is Yuvanashva a mother or a father?

Book Review - Jaya - Devdutt Pattanaik

The tales of the great epic Mahabharata retold in a form which can be understood be every reader. Being passionate about Bhagavadgeetha and Mahabharata for a very long time now; picking this book certainly made me fall in love with the epic again. Doing justice to every book he writes is the style of this author is what I have known after reading this piece of his work. Every tale has been depicted in a way which allows the reader to draw his own perceptions about every character of Mahabharata.

The illustrations, a blend of Zentangle and Madhubani art forms is another interesting aspect to the book. An effort of introducing the reader to various other versions of Mahabharata has been done along with the drawings of the family lines to get a better understanding of the Kuru and Yadu clan respectively. Helping the reader understand the difference between the emotions and Karma has been written with great ease.

My personal favorite chapter in the whole book is the, “Draupadi admits a secret”. Despite having everything with her, the leading lady of the epic could not be satisfied by even the most powerful Bhima or the most handsome Nakula because of the truth that was hidden deep inside her heart. The concept of questioning her chastity comes into the picture and how the guilt in the sub-conscious mind comes in the form of tears and then gets wiped away. So, in simple terms, chastity and honesty are two different faces of the same coin and the one who stands by Dharma performing the Karma without any expectations at all times is the one who gets closer to the Universe.

Every human-being born will have their treasure of secrets closely hidden in their heart. So did Satyavati, Kunti and Gandhari also had a lot of secrets but why was Draupadi cleansed of that guilt? Why did Kunti lose Karna and Gandhari all her children? This still leaves me perplexed.

Though it is a little difficult to understand it right at the first read, we may have to go back and re-read a few sentences again to understand the depth of the emotion and the character.

Yada yada hi dharmasya glanirbhavati bharata, Abhythanamadharmasya tadatmanam srijamyaham!

Book Review - "When Arya Fell Through The Fault"

"When Arya Fell Through The Fault"

Author: Reenita Malhotra Hora

“I was cocooned in her warmth, sobbing tears of relief and excitement as she gently rocked me in the morning breeze” – My favorite lines from the book.

A great attempt by the author to remind our current generation of the values laid by our ancestors. With an amazing cover page of the little boy with a book in his hand, Lord Rama and the demon king Ravana tingles curiosity in the readers.

Comparison between the good and evil of modern day and linking it back to the Indian epic Ramayana through a 12 year old boy is an amazing thing. The language is simple, yet leaves a great impact since the protagonist is a little boy as it creates a nostalgia to the readers.

The whole book revolves around a little boy Arya, who lives in San Fransisco, with his parents. His mum who is a Ayurvedic practitioner and his dad a cab driver Arya loves listening to the chapters of Ramayana narrated by his mother but is a slave of evil deeds. The author, being an Ayurvedic practitioner has very cleverly en cashed her skills in describing the aroma of Ayurveda oils and the food Arya's mother makes for him. The whole story takes an amazing twist when Arya's mother meets with an accident and goes into a vegetative state.

Linking of the characters Arya comes across in his life to Ravana – the ten headed demon king and the main reason for letting evil rule him is the best part of the book. The beautiful way of describing the Medicine Woman and comparing her to Arya's mother will keep the readers interest alive. The way of introducing and comparing the Vanara characters to the epic Ramayana and school janitor Niklas to Vishwamitra has been carried out really well.

The technique of author bringing in the age old concept of Ayurveda and understanding our true self is really commendable. The entire book revolves around the victory of good over evil and the simplest way to distinguish between the two is by our actions. The concept of reaction, deciding under haste and letting the situations take control over ourselves leads to mishap is what the entire book speaks about.

However, the initial chapters of the book is a little dragging where Arya's mom constantly pacifies him for his behavior, Athena and “The Boys” group taking Arya for a ride and Arya's reaction to every small thing is quite repetitive. As Arya lands in the Woods, the scenes speaking about Guruji and his color changing eyes is also quite repetitive. The school principal's character was of no significance at all.

Overall, the book gives us a broad perspective of an easy understanding between good and evil and the interpersonal conflicts each one of us encounter in our real lives through a lovely family of Arya, Ma and Pa. The book brings us tears when Arya finally evolves as a matured soul and decides to take his dad through the journey of Ramayana as his mother once did to him.

Once upon a Sunny Morning in the forests of ancient India… 

A deep jungle!

A deep jungle beckoned me one day, how beautiful it was I thought - I am little girl

Smell of the wet soil, an old mansion; two soldiers and I thought – I am a princess

Played and sang for a day with the soldiers; all alone had I become and I thought – I want my mum

Time passed by and four monsters intruded my home without an invitation; I want to go back to my home and I thought – I want my stars to shine on me

A deep jungle beckoned me one day; from beautiful to horrific it became when I entered the old haunted house and I thought – I wanted my loved ones back

As the songs played; the four monsters tore me apart my screams went unheard – none to save me; not even my stars

A deep jungle beckoned me one day; just to leave a scary scar on my heart and soul – A deep jungle beckoned me one day......

As I celebrate myself; nothing else matters...

“Glimpse” - “When I see her I lose a bit of myself”

Marriage is not between two bodies; it is a divine union of two soul-mates. I am married for the last forty years and have known my girl for the last fifty years. Today, I am an eighty year old soul who feels lost all of a sudden. I can’t remember a day feeling so blue in the last fifty years when she was with me. We also had to go through a lot of ebb and flows like any other couples. But, this day on my death-bed I clearly see what kept us sailing through the violent tides, it was the “UNFLINCHING dedication” and “FIERCEFUL PASSION” that we had towards each other.

I am a before independence master-piece and the concept of Love marriage was a complete boycott during those times. While India struggled for its Independence from British, I was waging a war in my mind on deciding if she is the “LOVE OF MY LIFE”. I had aversion towards the concept of marriage but, every time I saw her I felt a deep sense of connection and it became stronger as the days passed by. I cannot fathom those feelings I had for her, but I knew that it was not “LUST”

It was a Sunday morning, she stood by the gate of her house drying her long wavy hair, and it is so fascinating that these memories are still so alive in my so called “BRAIN-dead” body. I walked straight into her house and her lawyer dad was sipping his morning coffee while her mother was busy with the morning chores. She stood near the curtain and I could hear heart race at the speed of light; her beautiful wide eyes filled with tears and her fair white skin had turned blue out of fear. My parents were in complete disagreement with me and I could anticipate their reaction as well.

We both had decided to leave our families behind to start a new world of ours sparing our parents from the culture shock they had to go through. We moved far, real far away from everyone to an unknown part of the country and set-up our family. Undoubtedly, there was a lot of vacuum without our kith and kin but, I realized one thing; I had not made a mistake.

I had chosen a right woman for my life and I owe every bit of me to her; even while I am on my death-bed; the only thing that my mind craves is for the warmth of her body, a million dollar toothless smile and the lovely twinkle of her eyes with my reflection in them. I have always spoken to her eyes and even today as I breathe my last; I am seeing her right in front of me.

I call myself the LUCKIEST man in this world, love hidden in the heart may go unnoticed but in the eyes of a WOMAN that reflects her man in them – never let such a person walk away from your life J

Who are Human Resource Professionals?

Confusions were something that I was unable to control; everything and everyone I was once close to abandoned me. My job was not there anymore and I did not know what the Universe had in store for me. Did I lose hopes? Yes, I did.  Did I give up? I could have easily done it but I chose not to. Experienced that I went through every day, every minute and every second of this time shall never be forgotten. It was close to sixty days and the wait for the next opportunity seemed like ages.  It was during this time I realized that who really cares for me and who are just with me for the sake of it.

Every minute, my mind and body traveled through an emotional volcano, mood swings erupted out of them like balls of fire. Once I would sit and laugh and shout out aloud to the universe that I shall land in a great job and immediately after a minute or two my hopes would fall apart and I would sob to death.

Applying for jobs had become a daily routine and every time I sent an application I only prayed that I get shortlisted sooner but nothing seemed to be happening. There were times when I was rejected outright for the experience I had and at times they wanted me to negotiate and join for a lesser package and all this did not matter to me. One thing that made me sad was the behavior from professionals coined Human Resource. I belonged to the same pack but these people seemed way too different in their understanding the terminology “Human resource”

I was happy that I am a HR by passion and not by degree; I am a HR by my will and not by force.

This was the phase which made me understand that, knowledge and passion is not something the industry looks for; the entire set-up is based on a ridiculous model called “DEGREE and EXPERIENCE”.

As I pondered through this, I went deeper to get an answer. What is the bare minimum qualification required to be a “HUMAN RESOURCE” professional?

A pure heart and a clean mind are the basic requirements to be a great human resource professional is what I understood that day.

·         To be a human resource professional; a degree from an esteemed university and a logical mind with zero passion and compassion towards their fellow-workers is as good as being machines.

·         To be a human resource professional; one must have the ability to understand the emotions of other human-beings even before starting to ignore their calls or chats.

·         To be a human resource professional; being sophisticated with great titles behind their names is not a great deal; it is a deal when you remember the names of the people you interact with everyday – be it a job-seeker or an ex-employee.

·         To be a human resource professional does not mean that you need to fiddle around with HRIS or Performance management systems; it means to tune and set the frequency of minds of the employees aligned to the organization

·         To be a human resource professional does not mean to terminate people and manage attrition; it is to ensure that you are the face of the organization and radiate the energy among others

·         To be a human resource professional; it needs a great heart and a brain; because we ultimately need to understand that we are not human-doings but we are human-beings.

I have not found a job yet, it is a different story but being a HR by PASSION is what I love to be and I am glad that I still have a heart and it responds to emotions and not emoticons.

“A beautiful mind's eye”

Beautiful flowers bloomed, lovely colors spread everywhere; everything around seemed happy and lively. I walked on the paths of the road and Richie’s only life mission was to unite me with her and she pulled me effortlessly towards her barking away to glory. Every day she stood and as I approached the garden, she came running to me and embraced me with great love. The delicate scent of her body made me feel like she was an angel from heaven; her voice was a melody and her breath wanted me to feel her all the more. As she touched me and ran her fingers over my hair; a changeover to reverie is what I experienced. It was a five minute affair every morning and I would miss anything for the divine spell she had cast on me.

A couple of years passed by and I had grown fond of her; I tried to control my thoughts but it was quite impossible.  I slept with her beautiful face in my mind that night with a decision of asking her to be my queen forever and I drifted away to my dreamland where I everyday danced and sang with her to my heart’s content.  Her moves were mesmerizing; she was a goddess of dance is what I felt and I waited eagerly for the dawn to break and pulled Richie from her kennel. I dressed in the best of my suits, wore the muffler that my dad had presented me for my eighteenth year birthday and stepped out eagerly to catch a glimpse of her.

As we walked towards the garden, Richie did not pull me like she always did. As I went close by, I was stopped by the gate-keeper. I asked him what was happening; he said that the lady is no more; she survived an accident long back and had spent all her life on a wheel-chair in this garden until she breathed her last this morning. My heart was shattered into pieces as I broke down in front of the gate; the gate-keeper consoled me and lifted me up; Richie barked and jumped all over me. Everything else just disappeared in thin air, all I could now hear was my heart weeping in silence and the monotonous sound of my blind-stick.

Waves of emotions

Waves of emotions, all at once striking through the heart - could not contain everything; directing them towards you was a blunder – Forgive me

You are made up of flesh and blood too, binging on you is not right – an independent soul you are like me; soar high and live passionately is what you taught me - possessing you was not my intention – Forgive me

Lovely things you have told me in the past; tantrums are what I threw at you – a gem you are to me; a cold stone, I turned you into – Forgive me

Soft words spoken went unheard; only the words out of anger that came out is what I understood – cheat is what I called you; for the situation I went through – Forgive me

You are not my soul-mate; you are not my love; you are not anything that words can define – You are an eternal bonding; straight in the form of blessings – I do not wish to lose you – Forgive me

"Darkest days"

My heart says; I am a little girl with whims and fancies – a princess to my dad and a queen to none; I have a heart that beats too.

My heart says; hurdles in life are many – betrayers you meet a lot of times; hero to my dad and “Just an Object  to many; I have a heart that beats too.

My heart says; a day of hope would certainly come by; but abandoned is what I feel at this moment –dad being with God; meeting a soul that celebrated with me was a myth –I have a heart that beats too.

Heart-Beats

Darkness is ahead of me; lost I am with the thoughts of not finding my way back; you’ll rise above everything is all I need; a voice to whisper – I know you are my Little Girl – I shine on you

Says a lot my heart; a pair of ears is all I need, you’ll sail through this is all I need, a voice to whisper– I know you are my Little Girl – I shine on you

Dull and dismay is my mood; kith and kin are mere strings, momentary is my state; you’ll soar high is all I need, a voice to whisper –– I know you are my Little Girl – I shine on you

Leaving me alone was a blunder; come back to me screams my heart; impossible is not what I want to hear; I am right here with open arms to embrace is all I need, a voice to whisper – I know you are my Little girl – I shine on you, I shine on you …..

"Glimpse" - A glorious Soul-Play

It was the month of December, the weather was pleasant and everybody around looked light-hearted. Schools were closed for winter holidays; the sight of kids running down the streets with their petite frame being wrapped in thick bright colored woolen dresses was a feast to eyes.

 Though the winters in Bangalore aren’t that harsh, it got colder during evenings. I was out to just see if I could get some interesting facts for my write-up. The winter clearance sale attracted people from all age-groups. As I passed by one of the store, I noticed a lady with a shopping cart full of clothes waiting restlessly for her turn. She must have been in her early 70’s or late 60’s. She was wearing a white cotton churidhaar with a blue and red tie and dye patterned stole. A medium-built lady with a shoulder length hair-cut. She looked disappointed standing in the line for such a long time and it also seemed like she was waiting for someone else to join her. It was almost 8pm in the evening and I realized that the hunger acids in my stomach acted up. I went to a nearby eat-out to order my all time favorite, hot samosas with spicy green chutney. 

The hawker handed-over a coupon with a number indicating that I wait for my turn. The number was 28 and I waited patiently but it seemed like my turn never came even after a 30 minute wait. As I approached him, he signaled me to wait for another 10 more minutes. Finally, my turn arrived and as I stretched my hand to grab the plate, the samosas were in the air; someone else had taken it. I was almost in tears; it felt like someone had snatched a vital organ from my body. I was totally disappointed and almost mad with rage looked at the person who had stolen my samosas. A medium built person in his late 20’s or early 30’s with a radiant vision and a lovely stylized beard stood in front of me with a lovely smile; it felt like I knew him since ages, my soul was on the dance floor letting itself free.

I stood mesmerizing and almost had forgotten about the samosas until he walked up to me and met my gaze. He again smiled very humbly and said, I beg your pardon, my aunt suffers from diabetes and she was craving to have samosas, I had no choice but to snatch the next order else she would collapse. My heart had woven a fabric of abuses to shower on the samosa-thief but he had swept me off my feet with his presence. I just smiled approving the act without breaking the eye-contact and took my plate and walked away quietly. It looked like he was baffled by the response but he was successful in camouflaging it, I was equally surprised by my response but just let it be. I looked back to see if he was still hanging around as I smiled to myself with glee. 

As I walked down the street with the lovely memories, my eyes went back to the waiting lady and this time she was with a gentle-man having a gala time eating an ice-cream that dripped till her elbow. She caught me off-guard noticing her and as we exchanged smiles; the man with her turned around; my heart skipped a beat again. 

“Trance was the state of mind; enchanting was the spirit; a special soul you were, amidst the common people was to be found and that was the destiny”

Glimpse - "The Most BEAUTIFUL Illusion"

No other song can be as meaningful and melodic as the tune heard from the soul within; as tender as a new-born infant, my heart was happy dancing to the rhythm of my soul. I waited for my next assignment; and this time I was visiting a cancer home.

It was a bright Monday morning, getting late to the shuttle was a usual thing for me–I ran, not to exercise but to reach office on time, a neighborhood lady, rather a hawk waited to mock at me for the wonderful work-out I carried out without fail dressed impeccably and formally. Though my brain ran the “IGNORE” command, my heart always waited to feel bad. I always missed the shuttle and ended up in a taxi or a rickshaw asking the driver to compete with the speed of light despite running as swift as a cheetah. Most of the drivers understood my plight but some are always a hard-nut to be cracked.

My work was my passion; no restrictions as long as I was ethical. It brought me to the worlds of different people from various walks of life. I worked as a columnist for one of the leading news-papers and my assignment was to gather news from special homes and NGOs. Visiting orphanages, rehabilitation centers and old-age homes was part of the assignment. Visiting orphans, old-people and homeless was not an easy job at all, but the lessons learnt are beyond explanation. At times, I got carried away with the emotions but slowly I had learnt not carry the baggage with me.

Days went by and I had a cancer home visit pending under my bucket. For the first time, I felt a little uncomfortable yet, I masked it with super-excitement. Unknowingly, I had delayed visiting this place and it was strange.

It was a Wednesday morning; cold breeze ran down my spine as I sat in the car. I rolled the windows up and asked the driver to turn-off the radio. The driver reluctantly pressed the button till the Radio Jockey went mute. I chose to ignore and drowned in my thoughts of imagination about the place I was going to.

The car stopped at an old building, which resembled the Gothic architecture from the medieval period. I looked at the card to reconfirm the address before I paid the fare. The driver rushed even before I was completely out of the car and immediately turned on the radio. I smiled as I looked up admiring the building I was walking into. The building had a huge wooden gate with a top-mounted latch and a guard who greeted people with a warm smile and a visitor register. As I walked in, I noticed a well-maintained tall building with stone cladding on one side that stood between a lovely garden of tulips and roses blooming in glee inviting the bumble-bees to kiss them.

What a contradiction it was; it was one of the most beautiful illusions I was experiencing. It was a palace that had seen the most painful tears and the dreadful agony of the cancer victims yet, it gleaming with happiness. As I explored the place, a lovely piece of sculpture of a mother holding her baby tight to her bosom and caressing it caught my sight.

 The mother wore a white saree, her hair was let loose and it covered one of her eyes and her fore-head was smeared with vermilion. The baby’s face was fragile; the cheeks resembled a tiny ball of snow with traces of saffron lines, wrapped in a sky blue towel, his tiny hands and feet were hanging in the air with his neck turned to the right. I could not wait anymore to know who the artist was; I bent down to read the artist’s name and the world came to still

 “In the fond memory of my son” ………………………..

“The glimpse of yours at once caught my sight, what an awesome artistry I thought; until I reached the foundation to realize the ugly truth that lay beneath the beautiful master-piece that stood.

"Glimpse" - Stranger - - - "Strange Bonding" - "

I woke up with a jolt; With traffic in Bangalore becoming totally annoying; I was too surprised to reach the railway station quite a bit early. The driver looked like he had a bad fight with his wife for some reason and I did not want to bother him further with the questions; I just paid the fare and got down with my luggage and started walking towards the ticket counter. Fortunately, it was not all that crammed. I stood in front of the counter and wondered where I really wanted to go to. The person inside the counter was already getting restless; I looked at him and asked when was the next earliest train for any destination be possibly arriving. 

The guy immediately positioned me as just another case in the list of lost-minds he had experienced in his tenure. He took a deep breath and said, Next train is to Mangalore, 5 seats remaining, do you want the tickets? The ticket landed into my hands even before I finished nodding my head. I picked a water bottle and boarded the train. I prayed that I get a window seat and it seemed like God heard me. I settled down with some music and my scribbling-pad. I was consumed by a lot of thoughts until a million-dollar toothless smile caught my attention.

Only then I realized that my fellow passengers was an old couple. The man looked really charming and he got down at every station to help his lady with snacks and tea and every time she thanked him he smiled and hugged her passionately. I only thought that such love existed only in fairy tales but experiencing it for the first time made me feel really good.

Hours went by, my ears ached and my eyes begged for some rest. I looked outside the window and it seemed like the moon did not want to leave my side. The starlit sky looked like my mom’s black saree with a thousand polka dots. I was almost falling asleep when I realized that a pair of eyes yearned for my attention. I looked back and it was the old-man; he sat right beside me, it felt a little awkward but I somehow managed to smile. I wondered why he was awake yet when his love was snoring away to glory. He soon came closer to me and whispered in my ears; it took almost half a minute for me to understand that he was asking me for the lower berth. His eyes shone brighter than all the stars in the sky; I could not deny. I agreed and  let him have the lower berth.

The old man was relieved and he told me that he lived in Mangalore with his  wife and had traveled all the way to Bangalore for his grand-son’s funeral with uncontrollable tears rolling down his sagging cheeks. There was a great sense of gratitude in his eyes as he held my hands in his. He said, I had to wait for almost a week to let my eyes free themselves with the weight they carried and I found you.  

The old man closed his eyes while he still muttered about his grand-son’s death. He was not a friend, not an acquaintance absolutely a stranger to me; I was baffled at the degree of connection I felt with the old-man. Unknowingly, I shed tears too looking at the plight of the couple.

I woke up with a touch of something as soft as a fur that brushed my hair and a feeble voice calling me with cute names. As I opened my eyes, the old-couple with trembling hands stood in front of me with a cup of hot coffee and an ear-ear smile. The lady was smiling and this smile was very different from the one I had noticed last night. This smile of hers had life in it now and the old-man gleamed with joy. We spoke for an hour before our stations arrived. I helped the old couple with their baggage till the taxi. The old-man hugged me tight once again before we bid good-bye I smiled and waited till their taxi moved far away from my scope of vision and turned back to find a taxi for myself. As I walked away from them……...........

“Years of acquaintance is what I felt from a single touch of yours, impression you left on my heart was perpetual. Soon, I shall meet you with the lessons called experiences I learn in the journey of  my  
“LIFE”.......