My precious gifts are with me, I donot have to hunt happiness

We parked the car in Gopinath Bazaar and went to buy my favorite brownie. It was just one of the easy and lazy late evenings in otherwise demanding life of Delhi. The weather was perfectly romantic in the late October, or atleast my husband and I thought so!

After taking the brownie and ofcourse added sandwiches, patties with it, we hastily went into the car as we were excited for a drive towards the India Gate. Something caught my attention.

An aged lady sat on the footpath, the area mostly deserted at that hour, barring a few shops. Her frail body was covered with a worn out blanket. A stick was placed near her. My husband asked me to give a packet to her containing the food we just bought.I took out some money as well. I fumbled yet grabbed the packet as the lady’s calmness bothered me. I expected the usual begging for food or money, or both. She stared at me from a distance, but her facial expression didnot change much. Again I expected her to be elated while I stepped near her, as it obviously meant that she would gain something.

I faltered back as a dog barked. I failed to notice its presence as he was happily sharing the blanket with the old woman. I was determined to be the so called ‘giver’ and therefore I mustered courage and went near her though the dog grumbled.

       “Mere paass kuch khana hain, aap rakhlijiye aur paisse bhi le lijiye,” I extended my hand to reach her. There was no reaction from her, just about a slight hint to the four legged pet of hers to be quiet. I reiterated my offer or rather request, should I say?

Her lips parched and I felt happy that ‘for today I have done a good deed’ as I knew she would take the packet as well as the money and would shower a set of blessings. Its almost an everyday affair in Delhi streets.

"Mujhe koi cheese ki jaroorat nehi hai, main thik hu,” she said. Her voice had the right mix of tenderness and strength which stopped me from repeating my request. She took out a broom and cleaned a small area near her and made arrangements to sleep. I was surprised as well as bewildered by her denial. The dog grumbled again and I thought I must leave and let this happy family to take rest.

With sluggish steps I moved on. She had a dog to give her company, a broom with which she can clean up her place and make it liveable for the night, a blanket to protect her somehow from the cold, and an open sky that she called home.

In every moment in life the role of the giver and receiver changes. I went to give her mere food and money, but I received profound wisdom. To be contended in life either we need very little, or the list goes up everyday.

Four legged Barbie

It was a sheer nightmare to dissuade my little daughter to stay away from puppies on streets. Specially when Giggly, the name which Juhi and her friends gave to a street dog, delivered six pups, all my daughter wanted was to be with them all the time! Well out of six four survived. Giggly got the much needed attention from the kids. Juhi ensured that the pups get enough milk albeit from her own share. She emptied her glass of milk faster than ever!

The four pups were named as Sumo, Wrestler, Mickey and Barbie. The four legged creatures gradually also got fond of the kids. Juhi exactly knew if all whereabouts of the pups. As days passed I also grew less concerned and occasionally asked Juhi about the pups. She described their activities in the most animated way...I enjoyed it!

One day she quiet sadly mentioned that Wrestler had gone missing. A few days after Sumo was found dead in some one's garden. But the sight of Barbie cheered her up. Barbie gave Juhi the great attention as she wagged her little furry extension while Juhi came back from school or followed her to the park, too. "Maa, Barbie seems to be sad today, I think she is missing Sumo and Wrestler, or 'Maa Barbie fought with Mickey today, or, 'Maa, Barbie is hungry today, we must give food to her....," was common observations.

One morning Barbie was found dead in front of our house. She lay motionless beside a bush. I wanted desperately that her body be removed before Juhi arrives from school. But Juhi saw her friend dead on her way back from school. 

She didnot ask me anything. To my surprise she said,' Maa, Barbie has met her other siblings in Heaven", and continued in unfaltering tone "I have to love Mickey more now, she will be alone". I thought, my daughter has the insight of life and death already. Relieved too, because I was worried that she would be shocked and it would be difficult for me to make her understand the reality.

So,life went on usual for the day.

At midnight Juhi woke me up. 'Maa, I will punish the car which killed Barbie...how can I get her back?...Will she never come back?...May be she is living...

All through the day my little girl tried to be brave but with the advent of darkness her little soul was awakened.I presumed her to be pragmatic. But I was wrong. How can a seven year old be so? Could we understand the meaning of the cycle of birth and death and accept death? 

  Her grief knew no bounds...she couldn't any more wear the garb of maturity...she is a child and will always be ...so are we. It will always be difficult for us to accept the vacuum created by  someone's departure forever.

Radio of my Childhood

 A simple box from where I heard sounds -- magic I thought it to be when I was little. And to me my grandmother was the magician. With simple tuning of the knobs she could vary sounds and programmes from the box. What a wonder! And that wonder box was called radio.

Grandma's favorite programme was Bibidh Bharati in the morning. Where she listened to news bulletin and then songs. She placed the radio atop the window pane in the kitchen. I think it was merely an attempt to put it out of my reach! I was her blue eyed brat...
She woke up everyday at 4 o' clock in the morning, busy herself in 'puja' and then get involved in kitchen. She had a penchant for cooking a variety of dishes and that too in limited resources. How could she do it..well that's a mystery because now even amongst plenty, attimes I fail to choose. She cooked in typical Barishal style, a district of Bangladesh, where she got married at the tender age of 18. 

Grandma kept track of time while working and tuned in the radio on time. My immediate interest was morning delicious breakfast as she would oblige to any of my demands while listening to her favorite programmes. I knew names of all newsreaders by heart-amongst all Debdulal Bandopadhyaya was my favorite. His profound and heavy voice was quite appealing and he had the power even to arrest a child's attention. 

Though grandma endeavoured a lot to put me to sleep in the afternoon so that she could relax while hearing the audio drama, I always feigned sleep and took interest in her radio programme. I still remember couple of audio dramas which etched an indelible mark in my childhood memory. 

Though in regular circumstances radio timings were fixed in house, during election period and announcement of poll results radio had a extended run. Mood of the house changed constantly after each announcement. I didn't understand anything but that radio was on for a long time gave me immense pleasure. Reason still unknown to me. It may be that I had a good escape from my studies and everyone ignored my mischiefs.  Whatever it may be, I give  radio the ultimate credit.

I secretly tried to tune the knobs attimes but most of the time caught by grandma. Invariably my efforts gave away to some cacophonous sounds while grandma always could tune into proper stations. 

I was close to grandma and her radio too. She hardly berated me, just gave a slight pat on my back...more of love than anything.

My magician was gone on 1st July 2002. Ten long years have passed by. Radio programmes have undergone varied changes and so is the look of radio. But till today, whenever I hear a sound from a radio I visualize my grandma tuning on the knobs and  then the magic began.....

Times when childhood memories ruffles my otherwise calmness and I miss the loving ones I feel may be my grandma is still listening to her favorite radio programmes and somewhere I can pass the message how much  I love and miss her...

I am part of nature and nature is part of me

I went for my routine swim yesterday evening. It was almost 8 o'clock and time to get out of the water. For my last lap, I decided to take it easy and float instead. I really never tried this one...but then my ears were under water , face facing the sky..never ever I think I felt part of the nature in this manner.

I felt the hugeness of the creation.

Water was unfathomable (at that time I felt so) and the hue of the navy blue sky, recalling almost the end of the day..and just myself in between. There was just the mumbling sound, voice of nature or my inner soul? I admired the hugeness and power of nature. It was an ambivalent feeling. for a fraction of second I was scared but the tranquility enveloped my senses. Nature will take care of me . My mother and other near ones are there too...somewhere. Either in the listless sky who is looking down at me, or the air brushing my face soothingly or the blue water cradling me....Who Dares Death?