Juggling thoughts

The Dancing Pen: The Little Chai Wala_ The Encounter : He was trying hard to balance the puri lunch plate on his left hand and the hot glass of tea on the right. Half naked with bare foo...

He was trying hard to balance the puri lunch plate on his left hand and the hot glass of tea on the right. Half naked with bare foot he had to walk the sun heated road.   Even I was finding it difficult to cross as the cars never stopped in the traffic chaotic city road. And that job of the little boy seems to be the toughest of all the jobs in the world that moment . He was so careful with each of his step as he had the plate and the tea cup. What if he drops?   This scene caught my attention in and between the crowds. I am not very sure of his age, but the first look on his face made me assume he as young as five or six. I went nearer to him, and I noticed through his over cautious steps that he maybe very new to his job as a chai wala. That fear feeling of dropping the lunch that was in his hands can be read right on his forehead through the shrink lines and eye wrinkles. He shrugged every time he made an attempt to cross the road . He failed se...

A family was never by sheer chance but by labor of Love, Compassion and Sacrifices. Known a man, a friend, a brother , a husband and of all a father In this great life that has no end to the untold stories of his undefined sacrifices 'Tis but a story of a father, not many tells of Oh Father, we loved to wear your shoes in pretense that we were as big as you But we could never match your worth and your fair heart. There in every memory of our life, we sense your love, care and protection. Selflessly does your hands shares strengths, hands to count always Provider, toiled all through so faithfully Sees your dreams fulfilled in our eyes, we know it is hard   The sole reason to joy and laughter of his children and wife With stories told, silently watched them play from winters chill to summers sweat Their pockets bulging down their knees with marbles, a comb, a map, and a sticker Sharing the treasures of a little boy’s dream and a hero to his little girl’s dream. The shoes of a...

The Dancing Pen: The Message on the Paper. : Not even five minutes after I leaned my head on the chair to rest, Our office peon came to tell me that someone came in search of me and...

Not even five minutes after I leaned my head on the chair to rest, Our office peon came to tell me that someone came in search of me and gave me a paper that has something written on it. At the first glance at the paper, it read like this: “We are Deaf and Mute Couple from Chennai. We need to stay here (Room). We need to spend quite time with the Lord, meditate the word and pray.  Maybe for 2-3 weeks and after completing our fasting, we will go back to Chennai. Please let us know”. That confused me because I still had no idea why they came to the office for that. We have a reception just at the entrance of our compound for guest room booking. And I tried to use the little sign language I know to communicate with them but failed terribly, the wife asked for a pen & paper (which I was able to figure out) and wrote to me, “Please write to me what you are saying. He is having a low vision and cannot see you clear.” And I started to write, “You have to go to the receptio...

To the man I believe is the greatest man I've ever known.  The greatest who ever walked in my world. He is not a prominent person known to the world. This Hero of mine is not a renowned leader, He is not a doctor nor an engineer, He is not a professor nor a sport figure, He is neither a politician nor the world's richest business tycoon. But none can equal the peak my FATHER stands in my world. Truth be told he built my castle with wisdom and prayer. In his heart a place to hang my heart He is the one true thing I have A glorious light and an inspiration beyond compare I saw the world in his shoulder top If there is a man I love with my heart and trust with my soul, If there is a man I know a "Hero". It is my Father. A spiritual leader and the best chaperon in my life. No paper could tell of his love But one thing I will tell of him.. A father like him do never come everyone's way. With the ever adoring heart of a daughter "Happy Fathers Day, Dad" A...

The Dancing Pen: OUR STORY BEGINS FROM HERE. : Like any girl,  growing up with the notion that the wedding day is going to be the most enchanting, most memorable, most adorable and the ...

Like any girl,  growing up with the notion that the wedding day is going to be the most enchanting, most memorable, most adorable and the greatest day in my life was too obvious. I pretty did dream of being the best I can on my D-day. The deal sealed on the 19 th of April, 2016.  I realized how everyone knew exactly what they were talking about, much of an advice prior to your wedding day: like to eat enough beforehand because you won’t have a chance to take a bite of your meal that day, to make sure to stop and look around you and take in the beauty of the day, to relish in the moments because it will be over soon before you know it. Well Yes, feels like it was just a blink of a second and its gone. I wish that day could have lasted all week. April 19 th Morning: It hit me as I walk down the aisle having my dad hold me and taking care of each step I took, reviving in me that spirit as when he use to hold my hand while dropping me to school. The first and the last tim...

For all that you have given to me.   With so much love and patience, discipline and tears.   Casting all of your dreams into the sea.   Although consumed by fury,you always loved me more than I deserve.   Even before I know myself,you made me.   For all you have done for me, for you bound up the wounds I cannot see.   And gave me hope and passion all new.   I can return not half but love with all my heart.   Mother of my heart,you loved me till I turned to love.   And I became the soul I would.   Taking heed of neither pain nor price, love against all odds.   I need your fierce,great love,and will I need ever after.   I often wonder the depth of your love.   I know it can’t be ‘just because’,or simply to be nice.   The faith with which you mold me up,with prayers you shaped me.  Your faith,my caravan.   Ere love supply, the grace well earned   So let...

The Dancing Pen: The Traveller's Diary : It's was twenty past five in the evening,I was waiting for the arrival of the train at the first platform. Something got my eyes, as ...

It was twenty past five in the evening, as I await for the arrival of the train at platform no 1.Something got my eyes, while I was trying to snap shot the many activities and movements in and out of the station. That day the train station didn't seem too crowded like it always have been. In one of my turn around look, I snapped a man with a taqiyah (skullcap) suddenly stopping by the corner of the platform's footpath. He started unfolding a plastic mat. Hmm..that interested me and I kept observing him from far. Then the screech of the rather long calling of "Alah" resounded from the distant masjid's (mosque) loud speaker. I did not divert my attention to anything besides this praying man at the corner of the platform. I began to count the number of times he knelt down and bowed on the ground during his prayer. On the first count, he was on his knees uttering some words and than he bowed down twice. He stood up doing the same act and knelt down t...

Very often I keep noticing these two mothers sitting at the rushy foot path in the city's most crowded market, selling our locally grown vegetables and some tribal eatables. I keep thinking I will definitely go and buy something from them instead of shopping in the City malls. It keep striking my mind but at the end of my office hour when I happen to go down, they'd be on their return back home. I made a point to buy something from them and interacted with them last noon. I  was told that they come from a far fetched place, hundreds of kilometer away from the city with their stuffs loaded baskets. I saw that they do not carry any lunch box with them too, they sit no matter how long it takes to sell all their goods. What touched my heart was their generosity, they sell their heavy weighing cabbages with just twenty rupees per kilo. I got three cabbages for twenty, you can just imagine how much their small baskets could carry and they are selling it off too cheaply. With what he...

I am a woman who believe in equity of both genders and who do not mostly agree with some of the stereotype perceptive of what and how a woman should be.  Many knows but do not feel what it takes to be a Woman. To be a Woman and to grow and evolve  is not all easy. We were always taught, almost bombarded, with ideals of what we should be at every age in our lives: "This is what you should be at sixteen", " This is what you should wear at age twenty", "That is how you must act like at age twenty-five". But amidst all these voices. I believe there is no greater comfort and assurance than a woman who believes in Her Ability. No greater success that these things for a woman to be, at any age! Whether you are six or sixteen ,nineteen or ninety! It is always wonderful to be COURAGEOUS &BRAVE. It is always fashionable to have GRACE & ELEGANCE. It is always glamorous to have SELF-RESPECT , and it is always important to own a delectable PERFUME of CONFIDENC...

THE FORGOTTEN _an ancient tale retold. A Story by  lichanbeni   An oral traditional story I once heard.   Every evening the young son comes back home from the Morung (Chumpo) shouting grumpily to his father and tells him that the men-folks at the morung were gossip mongering of him and were criticizing him.  The son gets peeved to hear his father as the "talk of the village".  Days passed through but for his father was still the talk.  Each day he comes back and narrates the "whole-hog" to his father who calmly listens with a smile.  Gradually, the squeaky-wheel began to squeak lesser than yester- week.  The father began to wait for his son's return and inquired if he was apart of any discussion. And the son almost contentedly answers back that nothing much of him was picked.  Days passed through and little was heard and less complains and lesser to no more .  One day he asked his son, " was my name picked by a...

Every bit of what I am  began from her. I recall everything of her and the way she nurtured me as a girl to grow into who and what I am today. If am a woman today, am what she shaped and molded  me. I vividly recall the first teacher of my life. My mother, the greatest inspiration of my life. My first written alphabet before pre- school, her hand shaped beautifully. My initial education began at home with her home schooling every day. My first school with her as I attended every class she took. Every word I write is how and what she effortlessly taught me, owe to my great mentor. Closer to God she brought me with and in prayers. Life and relation value she instilled in me. My first best friend, my best mentor, my love and life. Of all she is my greatest inspiration in the whole wide world. The daughter who always epitomize her mother with love and will always. I love you, Mom!

Once upon a time there was a father, in any case if you can’t figure that out, it’s me. I always prayed for a beautiful baby girl. So I prayed, “Lord, if its your will make her a little girl” and He did. I was the first person to hold her in my arms. I looked at her and said, “make her like her mother “ and He did. She was loving, giving, kind and so beautiful like her mother. But then I felt I was going to be left out so I prayed, “Lord make her be like me” and He did. She could drive cars, load heavy works and handle any rainy day without any help. Do you realize what you are going to get? But at times she seemed to be too strong headed, stubborn, too emotional and adamant so I said, “Lord that’s enough of that, make her like You” and He did. He gave her the desire to serve people and love others, gave her a heart for missions no matter what and how she was doing. So that she could tell of Jesus in her works and life. But something was still missing and so I p...