A Bliss Called Ganpatipule!
September 27, 2009 Navi Mumbai, India - This time we decided to explore the land of the Sahyadris or the places beyond the Western Ghats, the western coastal villages across India. Typically, this place is known as the land of the Konkanis. The Konkani region is truly blessed by the Mother Nature that makes it stand just next to the God’s own country – Kerala. Inspired by the floating myths about the Konkani people, boasting about their hospitable and friendly nature, we decided to experience it this time. What an awesome idea it was to spend a few days of our life in the village itself, living in the company of the people and experiencing their lifestyle and culture. Ganpatipule, a holy village in the district of Ratnagiri, Maharashtra State was the ultimate choice. It was a sure breather from the strenuous city life of Pune.
The journey began on the Saturday night from the Swargate, Pune bus station at 9:00 PM. I have deep regards for the state transport buses of Maharashtra esp. when punctuality and versatility is considered. So our journey that started just in time didn’t take us by surprise. Since it was a night journey, it was nothing we had to see outside the window. After a few pit stops, it was the sleep that became our priority. Of course, a sound sleep is hard to be grabbed while you are travelling, but we tried hard lest we might waste the next day sleeping.
We reached the Ratnagiri bus station before dawn and I believe it was quarter to 4 o’ clock in the morning. At around 6:15 AM, just when the early rays of the beautiful and lazy Sunday morning hit the land, we reached the village of Ganpatipule. I looked outside the bus window and the breathtaking view of the mighty Arabian Sea almost made me hold my breath for a while. I never expected any Indian village to be so beautiful as this. Our bus continued drilling its way through the ups and downs of the roads, between the mountains, leaving behind the lush green flora every single inch and moment of our journey towards the village.
At Ganpatipule, we always wanted to stay at the long heard MTDC Resort, but we were unfortunate to get a room given that it was Sunday and a long weekend. Nevertheless, it is no big deal to find a hotel, lodge or any sort of accommodation here. The so called hospitable Konkani people are always ready to earn a few bucks from you and sometimes even end up quarreling among themselves to drag you to stay at their place.
Shree Kshetra Ganpatipule - Situated at a distance of about 350 kms. to the south of Mumbai is the pleasant holy place of Ganpatipule on the sea shores of Ratnagiri District. The ancient holy place of Shree Ganpati had sprung from the mother earth on the foothills facing westwards with lush green surroundings and waves lashing to a height of 2-4 feet or more and with a strip of soft sand leading to the holy place.
Just as the several myths floating in the Hindu mythology, even this holy place has various myths but the one that was scribbled on the walls of the Ganapatipule temple itself is worth to be believed:
History of the holy place – During the Mughal reign, some years before 1600 A.D. in a small village lived Shri Bhide who had a problem with one of the cows who refused to give any milk, since few days confused and puzzled, his cowherd decided to keep a close watch on her. To his amazement, one day he saw something unbelievable. Milk was itself flowing from the cow’s udder on the reef. At the same time a strong religious feeling encircled Shri Bhide. He tidied up the place and built a small shack on the spot and regularly worshipped the reef as form of Ganapati. Gradually, all the villagers began considering the hill to be a holy place. Some years later, a noble minister Annaji Datto Sachiv of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj built a small temple on the spot.
During our stay in the village, we visited the temple as regularly as twice a day. The west facing Lord Ganesha idol has a divine look. The statue is also visible from the sea shore provided the temple door is kept open. Devotees deeply believe in the holiness of the hill at which the temple is built upon.
We were lucky to have visited the village during the ongoing Navaratri Festival. The very next day of our stay here, we decided to join the villagers with their Pooja and rituals. Unlike the way the festival is being politicized in the Indian cities, there is one very good aspect of it I observed at Ganapatipule i.e. the celebrations are performed collectively at only single location called the Temple of Gramdevata. The villagers have a deep belief in their Gramdevata – Goddess Chandika Devi. Every night of the Navaratri brings in a schedule of activities which is appreciated by the villagers by due participation and devotion. The Aarti performed by them consists of chants of immense power – I was almost miraculously carried away by the harmony it created.
The people of Konkan are talkative and sometimes overfriendly. They are financially sound and are a true outcome of a blessed natural environment and its obvious gift. Although friendly, they are equally quarrelsome and notorious at times.
Marleshwar – Just 60 kms from Ganpatipule is a beautiful cave temple of Lord Shiva. Alternatively, Marleshwar is 38 km from Sangameshwar and 21 km from Devrukh. Marleshwar literally means the Lord of the village Marle. This temple is a Swayambhu (naturally formed) temple and has numerous myths associated with it. I am rather interested in the breathtaking beauty surrounded across this temple. In order to reach this cave temple, you need to climb more than 500 stairs which are beautifully built in between two mountains. While climbing these stairs you get to see a few waterfalls. Make sure you plan your visit during the rainy season (June – September) in order to experience the waterfalls in their best forms. Once you reach atop the temple, you would get a view of your life. The waterfall you observe from here is one of the best waterfalls in the world. Marleshwar is also known as the Kailasa of the Sahyadris. Just beware of the King Cobras around the place as the place is also known for the home of snakes at their natural best. Unfortunately, they were the monkeys that troubled us a lot on our way. Better surrender your eatables to them – they are always hungrier than you. Every year, during the festival of Makar Sankranti, thousands of devotees get together at Marleshwar near Devrukh city to attend the Marleshwar Yatra.
During our stint at Ganpatipule, we also managed to cover places like the Patit Pawan Mandir, The Birth Place of Lokmanya Tilak, The Paramhans Sadguru Swami Swaroopanand Samadhi Mandir, Pawas and the Bale (Ratnadurg) Fort which is just around the vicinity of the village.
The journey began on the Saturday night from the Swargate, Pune bus station at 9:00 PM. I have deep regards for the state transport buses of Maharashtra esp. when punctuality and versatility is considered. So our journey that started just in time didn’t take us by surprise. Since it was a night journey, it was nothing we had to see outside the window. After a few pit stops, it was the sleep that became our priority. Of course, a sound sleep is hard to be grabbed while you are travelling, but we tried hard lest we might waste the next day sleeping.We reached the Ratnagiri bus station before dawn and I believe it was quarter to 4 o’ clock in the morning. At around 6:15 AM, just when the early rays of the beautiful and lazy Sunday morning hit the land, we reached the village of Ganpatipule. I looked outside the bus window and the breathtaking view of the mighty Arabian Sea almost made me hold my breath for a while. I never expected any Indian village to be so beautiful as this. Our bus continued drilling its way through the ups and downs of the roads, between the mountains, leaving behind the lush green flora every single inch and moment of our journey towards the village.
At Ganpatipule, we always wanted to stay at the long heard MTDC Resort, but we were unfortunate to get a room given that it was Sunday and a long weekend. Nevertheless, it is no big deal to find a hotel, lodge or any sort of accommodation here. The so called hospitable Konkani people are always ready to earn a few bucks from you and sometimes even end up quarreling among themselves to drag you to stay at their place.
Shree Kshetra Ganpatipule - Situated at a distance of about 350 kms. to the south of Mumbai is the pleasant holy place of Ganpatipule on the sea shores of Ratnagiri District. The ancient holy place of Shree Ganpati had sprung from the mother earth on the foothills facing westwards with lush green surroundings and waves lashing to a height of 2-4 feet or more and with a strip of soft sand leading to the holy place.
Just as the several myths floating in the Hindu mythology, even this holy place has various myths but the one that was scribbled on the walls of the Ganapatipule temple itself is worth to be believed:
History of the holy place – During the Mughal reign, some years before 1600 A.D. in a small village lived Shri Bhide who had a problem with one of the cows who refused to give any milk, since few days confused and puzzled, his cowherd decided to keep a close watch on her. To his amazement, one day he saw something unbelievable. Milk was itself flowing from the cow’s udder on the reef. At the same time a strong religious feeling encircled Shri Bhide. He tidied up the place and built a small shack on the spot and regularly worshipped the reef as form of Ganapati. Gradually, all the villagers began considering the hill to be a holy place. Some years later, a noble minister Annaji Datto Sachiv of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj built a small temple on the spot.During our stay in the village, we visited the temple as regularly as twice a day. The west facing Lord Ganesha idol has a divine look. The statue is also visible from the sea shore provided the temple door is kept open. Devotees deeply believe in the holiness of the hill at which the temple is built upon.
We were lucky to have visited the village during the ongoing Navaratri Festival. The very next day of our stay here, we decided to join the villagers with their Pooja and rituals. Unlike the way the festival is being politicized in the Indian cities, there is one very good aspect of it I observed at Ganapatipule i.e. the celebrations are performed collectively at only single location called the Temple of Gramdevata. The villagers have a deep belief in their Gramdevata – Goddess Chandika Devi. Every night of the Navaratri brings in a schedule of activities which is appreciated by the villagers by due participation and devotion. The Aarti performed by them consists of chants of immense power – I was almost miraculously carried away by the harmony it created.The people of Konkan are talkative and sometimes overfriendly. They are financially sound and are a true outcome of a blessed natural environment and its obvious gift. Although friendly, they are equally quarrelsome and notorious at times.
Marleshwar – Just 60 kms from Ganpatipule is a beautiful cave temple of Lord Shiva. Alternatively, Marleshwar is 38 km from Sangameshwar and 21 km from Devrukh. Marleshwar literally means the Lord of the village Marle. This temple is a Swayambhu (naturally formed) temple and has numerous myths associated with it. I am rather interested in the breathtaking beauty surrounded across this temple. In order to reach this cave temple, you need to climb more than 500 stairs which are beautifully built in between two mountains. While climbing these stairs you get to see a few waterfalls. Make sure you plan your visit during the rainy season (June – September) in order to experience the waterfalls in their best forms. Once you reach atop the temple, you would get a view of your life. The waterfall you observe from here is one of the best waterfalls in the world. Marleshwar is also known as the Kailasa of the Sahyadris. Just beware of the King Cobras around the place as the place is also known for the home of snakes at their natural best. Unfortunately, they were the monkeys that troubled us a lot on our way. Better surrender your eatables to them – they are always hungrier than you. Every year, during the festival of Makar Sankranti, thousands of devotees get together at Marleshwar near Devrukh city to attend the Marleshwar Yatra.
During our stint at Ganpatipule, we also managed to cover places like the Patit Pawan Mandir, The Birth Place of Lokmanya Tilak, The Paramhans Sadguru Swami Swaroopanand Samadhi Mandir, Pawas and the Bale (Ratnadurg) Fort which is just around the vicinity of the village.
The True Joy Of Giving
September 14, 2009 Pune, India - Every time when you step your foot over the decelerator of your car over the traffic signal, you unknowingly become a part of their numerous targets. There comes a small kid with a torn, muddy shirt and a running nose in front of you. He keeps on giving you painful expressions, attempting to grab your sympathy and keeps on tapping you every second of your stint at the signal. He keeps on doing so but you do not budge. He notices your agony and then starts playing his professional tricks on you.
“Doh dino se khana nahi khaya hai saab!” says the boy.
Although, initially trying to move your mind away from him, you are now attracted towards the pathetic plight of the poor kid. Why shouldn’t you? That’s humane, isn’t it? You give a small thought over the situation the little kid must be facing. His claim that he hasn’t eaten anything for almost a couple of days, moves you. You are now not bothered about the cheesy taps that he was making on you, rather you take off a five rupee coin from your wallet and generously donate it to the boy. He could at least afford to buy a Wada-Pav (the Indian version of a burger) from my coin, you think. With no room for the magic word, the kid immediately moves to the car next and repeats the story. A tiny kid who hasn’t eaten for two days is standing on his own feet, asking for money on the sunny street and is wise enough to fool people like you – you think. That almost hurts you and makes you repent on your doings. You were just a part of their enormous customer base – the one with no face, no identity or an official list. A majority of these customers like you merely give and forget. A rupee or two doesn't matter much to these customers disguised as the so called compassionate souls. A few ones proudly bring out currencies of relatively greater denominations in the belief that they are really doing something great and supporting a noble cause. Of course that makes you feel blessed and relieved. The fact that you have helped someone in need makes you gain the feeling that you are spreading the goodwill of compassion and charity. Next, you forget it and move on just as soon as the signal goes green.
You think you just did a wonderful job, don't you? Just have a second thought, what difference has your small donation made to the life of that little beggar? Well, your five rupee coin was not used to quell the hunger of the beggar. In fact, you have just produced a couple of more beggars in the city. Imagine that the signal goes down every two minutes; every slot gives him more than enough chances to win the hearts of the passer-bys. He is not at all begging for food - that's the thing to be noted in the first place. Your hard earned coin wrapped in the sheath of compassion, was just being used to promote and encourage beggary. Don't be surprised if I say that you have just boosted the already prosperous bank balance of the beggar by a few more bucks. Winning mercy and kindness is the key of this illicit profession.
My father once said to me - "You give a man a fish to eat, you make his day; you teach a man how to fish and you make his life".
“Doh dino se khana nahi khaya hai saab!” says the boy.
Although, initially trying to move your mind away from him, you are now attracted towards the pathetic plight of the poor kid. Why shouldn’t you? That’s humane, isn’t it? You give a small thought over the situation the little kid must be facing. His claim that he hasn’t eaten anything for almost a couple of days, moves you. You are now not bothered about the cheesy taps that he was making on you, rather you take off a five rupee coin from your wallet and generously donate it to the boy. He could at least afford to buy a Wada-Pav (the Indian version of a burger) from my coin, you think. With no room for the magic word, the kid immediately moves to the car next and repeats the story. A tiny kid who hasn’t eaten for two days is standing on his own feet, asking for money on the sunny street and is wise enough to fool people like you – you think. That almost hurts you and makes you repent on your doings. You were just a part of their enormous customer base – the one with no face, no identity or an official list. A majority of these customers like you merely give and forget. A rupee or two doesn't matter much to these customers disguised as the so called compassionate souls. A few ones proudly bring out currencies of relatively greater denominations in the belief that they are really doing something great and supporting a noble cause. Of course that makes you feel blessed and relieved. The fact that you have helped someone in need makes you gain the feeling that you are spreading the goodwill of compassion and charity. Next, you forget it and move on just as soon as the signal goes green.You think you just did a wonderful job, don't you? Just have a second thought, what difference has your small donation made to the life of that little beggar? Well, your five rupee coin was not used to quell the hunger of the beggar. In fact, you have just produced a couple of more beggars in the city. Imagine that the signal goes down every two minutes; every slot gives him more than enough chances to win the hearts of the passer-bys. He is not at all begging for food - that's the thing to be noted in the first place. Your hard earned coin wrapped in the sheath of compassion, was just being used to promote and encourage beggary. Don't be surprised if I say that you have just boosted the already prosperous bank balance of the beggar by a few more bucks. Winning mercy and kindness is the key of this illicit profession.
My father once said to me - "You give a man a fish to eat, you make his day; you teach a man how to fish and you make his life".
A couple of weeks from now, India is going to celebrate the 'Joy of giving week' - of course there is joy in giving as in the case of donating something to the needy and even if you fail to realize that your donation didn't really help improve the life of the recipient. Donations of such sorts doesn't help the recipient in the long run, it rather encourages the practice of begging. The task of the giver doesn't end when the receiver accepts the donation. A good donor must go a step beyond, ensuring that his donation is utilized in the desired direction and that he is really meeting the cause. This gathers utmost significance not only when your donations carry high monetary value, but also when you donate a rupee to a beggar on the street. Imagine thousands of sympathetic donors donating a rupee to a beggar – will fetch him enough money to beat your monthly income. If you're really desirous of a serious help to a beggar, spare some time and buy him a snack or a pack of biscuits and experience the real joy of giving. This is what I call a joyful giving. Unfortunately, you would find it difficult to catch hold of a beggar who is ready to accept your non-monetary donation - which is because most of the beggars around you are the professional ones.
Sponsor a child's educational expenses, become a part of some authentic non-government organization - there are many in your city, spend a weekend in a remote village, teach your favorite subject to the less fortunate children - something you always wanted to, donate a toy to a poor kid and enjoy the smile on her face, work part-time for an orphanage and experience the real joy of giving. I understand that we all are really pressed hard for time and sometimes money. The least you can do is get in touch of such an active person or institution and donate a few words of appreciation and encouragement. Tell them that they are doing an awesome job and experience the real joy of giving. Simpler even, say your Mom a 'Thanks'. I know that is much less to give to a person who has given so much to you till date - who else can you think of appreciating than a person who, for her entire life, has been doing nothing but giving. Tell your favorite person in the world, that you like him, send an appreciation email or letter to someone whom you always wished to or adored.
The real joy of life is not in expecting all that you ever wanted from life; it is rather in all those little good wills you obtain from your heart-winning gestures. Life is all about giving in the real sense. You never carry anything when you depart. Everything you have now, aren't really your possessions, those are mere obsessions. If this is the divine truth of life, why not cultivate this habit from now? Start making some meaningful donations and make sure you meet the cause. Stop wasting your money on the traffic signals and on professional beggars. Your joy will gain the true meaning when it will solely meet the cause. Your donations must work towards making this world a better place.
Happy Giving!
Sponsor a child's educational expenses, become a part of some authentic non-government organization - there are many in your city, spend a weekend in a remote village, teach your favorite subject to the less fortunate children - something you always wanted to, donate a toy to a poor kid and enjoy the smile on her face, work part-time for an orphanage and experience the real joy of giving. I understand that we all are really pressed hard for time and sometimes money. The least you can do is get in touch of such an active person or institution and donate a few words of appreciation and encouragement. Tell them that they are doing an awesome job and experience the real joy of giving. Simpler even, say your Mom a 'Thanks'. I know that is much less to give to a person who has given so much to you till date - who else can you think of appreciating than a person who, for her entire life, has been doing nothing but giving. Tell your favorite person in the world, that you like him, send an appreciation email or letter to someone whom you always wished to or adored.
The real joy of life is not in expecting all that you ever wanted from life; it is rather in all those little good wills you obtain from your heart-winning gestures. Life is all about giving in the real sense. You never carry anything when you depart. Everything you have now, aren't really your possessions, those are mere obsessions. If this is the divine truth of life, why not cultivate this habit from now? Start making some meaningful donations and make sure you meet the cause. Stop wasting your money on the traffic signals and on professional beggars. Your joy will gain the true meaning when it will solely meet the cause. Your donations must work towards making this world a better place.
Happy Giving!
India is going to observe September 27 to October 3, Joy of Giving Week. The Joy of Giving Week is the beginning of a national movement. The first of its kind for India, and for every single Indian.
Religion - Let's Rejoice, Review And Reform
September 10, 2009 Pune, India - My chauffeur, Imam asked me an unusual question last week. But before discussing that, let me make certain things clear in the first place that this post is not intended to attract any slanderous remarks over any religion or their sentiments. This is a prose that raises all those questions that have always been sitting in the corner of my head. I recollect that these queries were being interrogated by me a couple of decades ago when I was learning the world around me as a novice child.
"Why is it that there is a small rat beside the statue of Lord Ganesha?" asked Imam. Although his question was a result of an enthusiastic approach towards my religion, I welcomed his doubt given that he was a follower of Islam.
"A mouse is an official Vaahan of Ganesha!" I replied.
"Why is it that there is a small rat beside the statue of Lord Ganesha?" asked Imam. Although his question was a result of an enthusiastic approach towards my religion, I welcomed his doubt given that he was a follower of Islam.
"A mouse is an official Vaahan of Ganesha!" I replied.
Later, I spent several minutes trying to explain him why most of the Hindu Gods had their own official carriers or the Vaahan. I named every other animal that I was able to think of including the dog, the peacock, the snake, the tiger, and the lion and so on. I felt happy to tell him that I could associate every animal to a respective Hindu God - each had their own official Vaahan. After that long explanation, it was not unnatural for me to expect a little bit of appreciation from him, to have shared a good knowledge of Hinduism with him. Unfortunately, his reaction to my explanation took me to a different world - my world of innocence and the childhood days when I often bombarded my Papa with a hell lotta novice questions."I wonder how such a meek creature is able to sustain the weight of such a huge body!" exclaimed Imam. I observed him as his exclamation gradually burst him out in laughter but that really did not hurt me. I was spellbound since I knew; I had no answer to that. And I was left with no choice than to anticipate and join him with his joke.
But that was not the end of the joke. It revived all those novice queries that I had as a child, as a newborn when I knew almost nothing about religion. I asked similar questions to the elders around me during the days when my mind was like a blank printer paper, waiting for an imprint to be made on it. Being born to a Hindu, they kept on imprinting my mind with the cartridge of mythological beliefs. I was taught to obey the taboos and venerate the Hindu Gods relentlessly. They made me accustom to offer rituals to these Gods and to remember the do's and don'ts of each one of them. One fine day, they made me learn that there are thirty three crore Gods I should believe in. I feel sad to not even learn their names ever. I wish I could have known at least the ones we commonly preach and organize festivals for. Alas! Neither mythology nor history has provided me a justifiable explanation to my queries.
Several years down the line, I was overloaded with too many things, so much so that I started learning to take certain things for granted. My religious beliefs were one of them. In almost every case, the religious beliefs are induced upon us. If I was born as an orphan, with no trace of my family, it is certain that I would have no compulsion on adopting a certain set of religious beliefs. As a Hindu, I have always been enjoying the popular festivals like the 'Janmastami'. Festivals, in India are something more than religious celebrations; they possess huge significance in social fronts. They are the occasions when people from various walks of life come together or rather integrate. I wholeheartedly, welcome such social causes that help us remain united and integrated. Lord Krishna, today has a profound sum of followers and is considered as a role model around the globe. As his fable goes, he was a well known troublemaker, a thief and an eve-teaser. He had his own troop of partners in crime that he leaded. If this is so, today, I suppose we have a great deal of such lords in the underworld, possibly even better than our famous Lord Krishna himself. They are ill-known as to be the criminals; they too possess some godly qualities that have still kept them untamed and free. Why is it that if gods perform the act, we term it as a ‘Leela’ (a play) whereas, if the same act is performed by a human, it is a crime? Well, jokes apart, this is not a true definition of a role model in the real sense.
Mythology fails to justify several things that includes, teleporting which was common among the Gods. Despite so many technological advances, scientists today are still trying to improvise the means of travel and transportation. True, but that’s where the irony hides. It is not unacceptable to believe that some great warriors in the past possessed exceptional skills in archery, wrestling and so on which made them famous. Lord Rama, for instance was well known for his archery skills, but his potential to use an arrow to bring down the biggest mountain on the planet seems hard to digest without a clear scientific base. Or is it a sheer outrage of a praiseworthy exaggeration?
I am proud of my country's rich and varied heritage. I am always ready to flaunt and boast about the heritage on which our culture is based upon. But it really makes me sad when I really find no answers to my queries, esp. when it has something to do with our beliefs and devotion. For ages, India has been a land of sages and saints but it is hard to learn that most of our religious values are still based on relentless superstitions. Several of our festivals, are being observed just because they were followed for ages. Hardly do we care about our natural resources that are bitterly impacted due to the activities we perform in the name of God. The toxic content being used in the statues we immerse in our rivers is ruining the sanctity of our water bodies. Liters of milk and curd are merely wasted in the name of God, when more than half of our population sleeps empty-stomached every other evening. A dozen bones and a zillion earthen pots are broken down during Janmashtami, all in the name of God. Millions of crackers are burnt in the name of God, when we, on the other hand, keep complaining about pollution issues and the global warming effect.
No religion tells us to preach the negative aspects of life. Evil and good, both are the two aspects of the same old coin. God, a virtual super power that we believe in as a human, tells us to believe in the good and condemn the bad. Now to perform killings and sacrifices in the name of god is unjustifiable. To riot and kill a fellow-human in the name of religion is not Jihad, it's a sin. I am sad to live in a world where people, who are incapable to understand the true meaning of religion, commit such sins in the name of religion itself. This makes me wish to get rid of the imprints that this world has made up on my mind and ink it with a sole religion of patience and compassion. God doesn't need loudspeakers to hear your prayers; neither does he need your rituals. He understands the language of compassion and love. This is where the true meaning of religion lies. Let us continue blowing the conches, let us keep ringing those bells, let us continue folding our hands and let us continue bending our knees. Let us dance and sing in his glory, let us praise the almighty but let us change.
Under The Broken Roof...
September 03, 2009 Pune, India - The fifteen year old was in a no mood to listen at the cries of her ailing mother that evening. She had already shifted her mother’s bed outside the house as an attempt to get rid of her painful yells that arose periodically. She was sitting on the floor and looking straight up towards the broken roof of her house. It gave her a beautiful view of the dusky sky which was soon going to be covered with the darkness of the night. Winter had just begun and that made evenings last longer. It was going to be dark for long, she thought. She leaned back on the wall and faced the door, as if waiting for someone she always wanted to see. She kept on staring the door for a few minutes until she fell asleep.
Soon it was dark all around and the house was gulped up by the confines of the night. Unbothered by the thrills of the darkness, she continued to sleep, undisturbed by the evening tweets of the birds that had returned back to their nests. She slept seemingly lost into the serene tranquility of the dusk. She dreamt of her father. It was not more than a couple of years ago when she was so afraid of the dark. She dreamt of her father's arms which was the only place she sought to get rid of the fear of the night. It was the most secure place under the sun, she felt. She relived the day when he had bought her a new dress - the one she had proudly flaunted among her friends. She relived the day when her mother had prepared her favorite sweet on her birthday. Her face had an unusual glow as she smiled in her sleep. If a dream is what made her happy, sleep was all she wished to have. But the happiness that she searched in her dream was short-lived. She woke up suddenly, unable to see anything around her. For a while, she was frightened by the dark. Times had changed and her fear of the dark had significantly declined. I am a brave girl, she thought. It was purely circumstantial that she was now able to fight the dark, the hunger and the society. She decided not to light the oil lamp now. It was only a small amount of oil that she had in the house and she wanted to save it for the guest. She thought of the days when her house had enough oil to enlighten the room all night long, things were so easy and days were carefree; she almost had nothing to worry about.
Making her way through the dark room, she spotted the door and came out of the house. A few yards away, she could notice her mother sleeping. She decided not to wake her up. It's better to have her sleeping - that's only time when she could segregate her mind away from her abdominal cancer, thought the girl. She looked up and had a majestic view of the moonlit sky, as the wind made its way through her long hair. She was able to feel the barren farms, the stars, the oak trees along the country road and the melancholic chirping of the crickets. The only thing her young mind was unable to understand was why mother said that time has changed, when everything looked just the same.
"Is Surabhi there? Ramesh sent me..." a strange voice interrupted her stream of thoughts.
"Yes, come in!" she said as she bent her head down with embarrassment and invited the stranger inside the house. It was the time to light the lamp. She kept the lamp on the stove and ensured that it gave enough light in the room. Eventually, she spread an old carpet on the floor and invited her guest to have a seat on it.
She was unable to gather enough guts to have a look at his face. Every face is the same and it doesn't really make any difference to her, she thought. With no room for any second thoughts, she took a seat beside him.
She looked at the lightened lamp and felt happy to have the room lit. The thought that she was now strong enough to be able to kill the darkness made her feel confident. She kept on searching the feeling of security between the lusty grips of his arms - the kinda feeling which she once felt within her father's arms. Gradually, she started loosing her mind back in her stream of thoughts. A tiny teardrop secretly left her little cheek and vanished somewhere down on the floor.
She closed her eyes and kept on wandering in her world of wilderness until again an urge of hunger brought her back to her senses. She woke up wide awake and looked around. There was no one in the room. The oil lamp had already given up and the moonlit roof was the only source of light into the room. Once again, she came out of the house and had a look around. The mighty oaks still stood straight and strong and so did the open farms.
Time has changed for sure, she realized. And among the howling winds, it was only the chirping of the crickets and the cries of her weeping mother that she was now able to hear.
Soon it was dark all around and the house was gulped up by the confines of the night. Unbothered by the thrills of the darkness, she continued to sleep, undisturbed by the evening tweets of the birds that had returned back to their nests. She slept seemingly lost into the serene tranquility of the dusk. She dreamt of her father. It was not more than a couple of years ago when she was so afraid of the dark. She dreamt of her father's arms which was the only place she sought to get rid of the fear of the night. It was the most secure place under the sun, she felt. She relived the day when he had bought her a new dress - the one she had proudly flaunted among her friends. She relived the day when her mother had prepared her favorite sweet on her birthday. Her face had an unusual glow as she smiled in her sleep. If a dream is what made her happy, sleep was all she wished to have. But the happiness that she searched in her dream was short-lived. She woke up suddenly, unable to see anything around her. For a while, she was frightened by the dark. Times had changed and her fear of the dark had significantly declined. I am a brave girl, she thought. It was purely circumstantial that she was now able to fight the dark, the hunger and the society. She decided not to light the oil lamp now. It was only a small amount of oil that she had in the house and she wanted to save it for the guest. She thought of the days when her house had enough oil to enlighten the room all night long, things were so easy and days were carefree; she almost had nothing to worry about.Making her way through the dark room, she spotted the door and came out of the house. A few yards away, she could notice her mother sleeping. She decided not to wake her up. It's better to have her sleeping - that's only time when she could segregate her mind away from her abdominal cancer, thought the girl. She looked up and had a majestic view of the moonlit sky, as the wind made its way through her long hair. She was able to feel the barren farms, the stars, the oak trees along the country road and the melancholic chirping of the crickets. The only thing her young mind was unable to understand was why mother said that time has changed, when everything looked just the same.
"Is Surabhi there? Ramesh sent me..." a strange voice interrupted her stream of thoughts.
"Yes, come in!" she said as she bent her head down with embarrassment and invited the stranger inside the house. It was the time to light the lamp. She kept the lamp on the stove and ensured that it gave enough light in the room. Eventually, she spread an old carpet on the floor and invited her guest to have a seat on it.
She was unable to gather enough guts to have a look at his face. Every face is the same and it doesn't really make any difference to her, she thought. With no room for any second thoughts, she took a seat beside him.
She looked at the lightened lamp and felt happy to have the room lit. The thought that she was now strong enough to be able to kill the darkness made her feel confident. She kept on searching the feeling of security between the lusty grips of his arms - the kinda feeling which she once felt within her father's arms. Gradually, she started loosing her mind back in her stream of thoughts. A tiny teardrop secretly left her little cheek and vanished somewhere down on the floor.
She closed her eyes and kept on wandering in her world of wilderness until again an urge of hunger brought her back to her senses. She woke up wide awake and looked around. There was no one in the room. The oil lamp had already given up and the moonlit roof was the only source of light into the room. Once again, she came out of the house and had a look around. The mighty oaks still stood straight and strong and so did the open farms.
Time has changed for sure, she realized. And among the howling winds, it was only the chirping of the crickets and the cries of her weeping mother that she was now able to hear.
In India, 1.5 lakh farmers committed suicide between 1997 and 2005, and two thirds of them are from four states - Maharashtra, Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka and Madhya Pradesh (including the present Chhattisgarh). Their impoverished families are left with no other option than struggling with debts and hunger. Vidarbha in Maharashtra remains a grim statistic. One suicide in every eight hours. More than half of those who committed suicide were between 20 and 45, their most productive years. The Maharashtra government says as many as 1920 farmers committed suicide between January 1, 2001 and August 19, 2006.
Accolades: This post was chosen as the Best Post from the Indian Blogosphere by BlogAdda - their topmost pick on 5th September, 2009
Who : Neeraj ShindeWhat : Under The Broken Roof…
Spicy : What an awesome post to start with. Neeraj has this wonderful post, with farmer’s suicide as the backdrop. We would not like to reveal much but all we can say is the way Neeraj has written this post makes it a must read.
Subscribe to:
Posts
(
Atom
)
Posts
19 comments :
Post a Comment