Search This Blog

You may have a different view on the Subject, so your Comments will help me think differently.

You may have a different view on the Subject, so your Comments will help me think differently.
Catch me anytime with a click at the above logo. Read what I Write & Share what you Like

Translate

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

The Doll.........


He was all of seven, when the door bell rang. I went up and opened the door to greet him with a smile. But he stood in silence, hands folded behind, as though he wanted to not show me what his little hands held. I did not say a word, as a tear swelled his eye. He walked in silently tip toe all the way. When I later walked into the bedroom, he was busy cleaning her up with glee. He had picked a doll from across the street. The doll was bruised. He was busy in his own way trying to cheer her up. He bathed her in perfume, dressed her in all finery and proudly exhibited her as a prized possession. She slept by his side that night, every night. I reminded him of the toys I had got him. But it was this doll that got his heart. The pride of the place. Time is a great healer I knew, or so I thought. Twenty years later, one evening the doorbell rang. He was there standing in silence. His hands held behind. A tear swelled his eye. Not a word said. I walked in - inward. I knew he had brought home another ................               Doll.




Monday, August 29, 2011

Autumn Leaves


It was past twilight when she took the call. I asked for him, as we gathered to wish for this was his day. I remembered the moment. It was past dusk when we returned and hit bed. Somewhere a soul stirred as I said to her"              

A little of me, A little of you,
A little of us both together
That's what will make him be.

A little of Rain, A little of Shine
A little of it all together
That's what will make him Divine

Twenty Eight years later we sat exhausted.

Spring & Dance, Dance & Prance
My Love we have played our chance
We are the Autumn Leaves."

They have just hit the bed. Do I see another soul stir.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Pathar is a Stone

"And I say also unto thee, that thou art Peter". It was the name given to Simon by Christ when he called him to be a disciple, John 1:42                   This was the Sermon read on Sunday last.


At the time of Emperor Ashoka, it was common knowledge to have decrees etched on stone pillars for all who passed by to read, understand and accept as the Law of the Land.
For the plebian the way of expressing was to write on sand, with the use of his fore finger. With time it was understood that you could also use a stone to inscribe on sand, leaves, or the bark of a tree.
This was also the way of transferring information during the time of the Lord. When the Lord in one of his moments realized the disciples he had chosen were ready, he wanted to prepare them to continue with his teachings after his departure. When they began to accept his spirituality and oneness with God, he said
"Thou, in saying that I am the Son of God, has called me by a name expressive of my true character".
H
e decided to use Simon for writing his words-like Ashoka's Pillar- for others to read. Use Simon as the stone that one used to write on sand.
And this inspired to call him Pathar – the stone,
a name expressive of Simon’s character. “I call you Pathar - a Stoneand your confession has shown that the Heavenly spirit is in you. I see that you are worthy of the name, and will be a distinguished support and carrier of my teachings. And with this pathar, I will build my church”.
The Church the Lord meant was not the Brick & Mortar, we see today.
It was the spread of his teachings, his philosophies, his thoughts. Somewhere down the line came the disconnect, Pathar became Peter, the Teachings became the edifice, those who were to live by the word lost the heavenly spirit and began  to live in the world, leading earthly lives forgetting that now Pathar is just a Stone.




Sunday, August 14, 2011

Ramayana Retold


After Rama and Sita had been married for twelve years, Dasharatha who had grown old, expresses his desire to crown Rama, to which the Kosala assembly and his subjects express their support. On the eve of the great event, Kaikeyi—her jealousy aroused by Manthara, a wicked maidservant—claims two boons that Dasharatha had long ago granted her. Kaikeyi demands Rama to be exiled into wilderness for fourteen years, while the succession passes to her son Bharata. The heartbroken king, constrained by his rigid devotion to his given word, accedes to Kaikeyi's demands. Rama accepts his father's reluctant decree with absolute submission and calm self-control which characterizes him throughout. He is joined by Sita and Lakshmana. After Rama's departure, king Dasharatha, unable to bear the grief, passes away.

5000 years later, Dasharatha lay quiet on bed, wondering where Kaikeyi was in this era and what would be her plan. Rama and Sita have been married for ten years when Rama had to leave Sita, Lava and Kusha to comply with the demand of the day.This time without being asked to, Rama separates from his family and heads for the desert. Seven years had elapsed. Was it a half cycle separation this time, because Rama had to return on the completion of seven years, to care for Dasharatha who now without his queen Aparajita had lost the will to live. Four years later Dasharatha breathed his last in the arms of Rama, to compensate Rama’s absence at his earlier demise. Lava and Kusha stood in silence with Sita and Shatrughna. Seven more years had elapsed. Now as Rama lay alone on Dasharatha's bed wondering where Kaikeyi was and would Kaikeyi plan to further exile him or would she arrive this time to separate Lava and Kusha.