He walked with me in the dark

The white road shall give you the way to that little village called Jitti, under Chargharay block in Samtse District in Bhutan, a tiny village sharing a border with an Indian district of Jalpaiguri, watching over the Jitti river.

The people walk this white quartzite road after being packed from the bordering town. The whisper of the breeze, the incantation by the bees, the laughter of the Jitti river and if you are the visitor during winter, you shall be accompanied by the chirping of birds and dancing of withered winter flowers till you reach the Buddha temple in the heart of the village. Just above is my home where I was born 26 years ago.

I was returning home from my college for winter vacation, I took into taxi from Darjeeling at around 10 am, I could have done quite early but had something to buy for my family. It was late and I was worried whether I could catch a bus to Jitti border from PC Mital bus stand in Siliguri.

I know, you shall not curse the driver if you have travel via Makai Bari for his slow driving, instead sleep to avoid giddiness of the curves and turns of the queen of the hill, Darjeeling. As the taxi moved slowly I took a chance to pullout my book “The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari” by Robin Sharma. It was a nice book that took me away and even didn’t notice that I was running on the plains of Siliguri.

The warm air of plains provided a warm welcome note, and the driver as if excited moved his vehicle fast. But I was worried that I may not be able to catch a bus to Jitti border.

It was already 2pm and I just had 15 minutes to reach Mital bus stand, though quite hungry I planned to eat something inside bus itself.

I boarded on an auto rickshaw from Champasari and reached the bus stand on time. The bus was almost filled but luckily I got a seat near the driver.

It was annoying that the bus stopped on every little distance picking and dropping passengers. It was almost 3:15pm when we reached the Tista Bridge.

I was alone and bored, I thought of taking out my book but couldn’t as my bag was tightly tugged with other things, so I preferred to sleep, but couldn’t due to the bustle sound from the engine and a loud Bengali song.

 Varieties of people, short, fat, thin, coming in and going out and an Indian lady beside me was snoring, taking onto my shoulder pretending as if in a deep sleep. Only the breeze was kind enough to give me a company over hot stinging rays of sun that stole its way through the broken window pane.

The day has lost the battle over the dark and it was almost 7:30pm when we reached Jitti border. Dark outside, nothing was visible except the lights from the faraway houses, that looked as if mourning for the loss.

A mild fear was moving inside my heart, I still had 15 minutes walk to reach my home. I was confused how to penetrate the darkness and reach home. Poor sighted guy and without any lighting system. I just kept hope on my mobile, but sad that it has consumed its battery to its fullest. With no option left I had to walk feeling the ground both with foot and hands. But I always took courage that it would improve once I reach the road, the white strip that leads to my home.

Walking under the cover of the darkness, nothing could be seen except the glow worm and somewhere the dogs barking and adding a  music to the night.

With the name of the Lord vibrating over my lips and heart beating fast I could catch up that white quartz lined mining road.

Now, I needed no more light the white road was enough to lead me. I cursed the moon and the star and wished to scrub the darkness to get the light and prayed if I ever had a friend to walk together.

As if my wishes coming true, the moon was slowly marching on its way and stirred darkness to get the world to be seen, and like the answer to my prayers, a man was coming toward the road. I couldn’t make who he was, but felt, must be Ram Badhur kaka, guessing out from his customary old cough.

Exactly, it was him, returning home after having a drink from a neighbour’s house. He was kind enough to ask me if he could carry my heavy book leaden bag.

 In a brief conversation, he said he has been away for some work and had just returned to village that day morning and shall be leaving soon for the same. He asked me everything about my life in Darjeeling and encouraged me to study hard.

There seemed a lot of changes in him; the way he talked to me and his generosity in helping me to carry my heavy bag. I know he was not such kind of person before. I felt that Ram Badhur kaka has changed a lot.

As we reached near my home, my dog came near crying and pushing me back, it was so kind that it missed me a lot. I got my bag collected and thanked him. He bade good night and asked to visit his house the next day.

The dog was still looking towards him and barking, but I could see him no more, perhaps he had walked over very soon.

I called my mother and she opened the door, she was surprised that I have walked all that way alone. She asked me if I could have called them, so brother would have come to get me down in the border. I told her that Ram Badhur kaka was with me from half way.

Before she could ask me for a diner, she poured a holy water over my head and asked me to drink it a little. After having something to eat, she asked me to offer pray in the alter room and have a sleep. She was murmuring with prayer. It was something unusual but I didn’t care. I was soon carried away by a deep sleep.

In the morning, my mom care near me and before asking anything about my college and my life, she asked “Was he Ram Badhur kaka, are you sure? Where did you meet him?”

After my brief explanation to her, she cried ‘that Ram Badhur kaka has died a week ago. He fell down from that cliff on the same place where you have met him last night.”

I couldn’t imagine anything, and thank god that it was best that I didn’t know that before…………………….

The Leave Letter

The computer class was silent as everybody was engrossed in doing their project; our instructor himself was busy attending his task from administration.

The day outside was cold and with light shower, there was just the clinching of rain drops on the window pane and few guys yawning. I just cursed that Friday 21 January and wished I could have stayed back at home, sitting near heater and watching television.

Quite a while, there was a push on the door, and Karma just pushing her head inside, called out “May I come in sir?”,

There was sway of heads towards her, breaking the silence of the room. What was wrong?  She gazed with the tears on her eyes.

“Yes, Come in,  Karma please be early in class from tomorrow, okay?” spoke sir, in his compassionate tone. But hasn’t he noticed why Karma has in tears?.

Just with her pale hands wiping off her tears, Karma requested sir, that she was unable to attend her classes and wanted to go home, she made sure that her mother too was waiting for her outside.

In his utter surprise, sir took up his head from the book and asked what was wrong?  Karma was swept with silence, with tears dropping down her checks.

“Okay, but for how many days?” He asked.

“I don’t know sir, but soon my dad shall write to you. Please do understand me ” she cried.
She left the room, pulling the door quietly and walked out cautiously not even making the note of her footsteps.

Class broke out of its salience, lots of whispers and discussions erupted.

Nobody has ever been close to karma and knew where she was from. But sir has always noted that, she was the most sincere girl and was doing well in her class. She was kind and sincere and hardworking. I just have talked with her once, quite few days earlier and just knew she studies in class XII and stays with her dad and mom in Dechenchholing, and every day she comes to the class by taxi.

Karma didn’t turn up for the class. Five days has passed, neither her father has written him a letter and nor anybody knew about her. Few guys started cracking jokes that she has married and left the course.
In the mean time, a fellow of another class handed sir an application send by Karma’s father.
He just had a glance over it, kept in turned over and left the room and never returned. As the class got over, I just walked to his desk and quickly went through the letter.

It read “Karma and her mom has left our family for heavenly abode on Friday 21 January, in a car accident while traveling from Dechenchholing to her computer class. Please join us to pray for her departed soul……………”

My eyes were wet and heart beating fast….I could understand nothing. I realized, death was only the surety of life, and one eagerly waiting for me, to take me away….I prayed.

From  book "Pearls of My Imagination" on thought over death.

The Bread and the Tear

On the first day I found him at a dark corner of Mahakal market. He wore all the curse of this earth. Limbless, eyes were open but of no use. His arms were never bigger than a stick. Naked he lolled against the mosses grown wall. His head was no more than the skull and his skin merged under bones with only the richly grown untidy hair that attired him. His deep sunken eyes blinked frequently and his two begging pale hands shook , he could hardly lift his begging pot, with perhaps the name of the lord vibrating on the pale stained lips.
He was robbed of all the materialistic property except a few coins in his begging pot, passing his time under the roof of the sky and the floor of the earth
The mere figure was really a point to trigger my compassion. While I was helpless and couldn't imagine the fact of his sorrows. So I felt instead of throwing a coin, it would be better to provide him a bread, so that he would not be doubly cheated by the business fellows. I got him the bread and placed it upon his bonny palms. He at once got hold of it, bowed and started to gnaw, it looked so unpleasant, but why should I be so cruel to write all those things here for you, So let me not go far.
The scene of the mere figure stood to cause a pain in me. It impaired my thought and hunted my dreams, not really a hallucination but his feeble image appeared repeatedly in my mind, that remained for more than a week, so I was often afraid, but left it just within myself.
Now when that thought have gone and things forgotten, and may be after a month while I was out for shopping in that same place, I saw that same figure emptied of the soul. He was swollen and looked healthy; his hair has loosened and covered his face. His begging pot was empty and turned upside down...."Where his soul be residing now"?. I asked to myself. I remembered that I had given him the bread once, the very thought pinched my heart and now I had just the mournful tears dropping down my cheeks.

(It is not the description of the person in the image)

Waiting at the Sea Shore

I am waiting at the sea shore

Counting the ships that arrives

Hoping you may return

Again into my life.

I am lonely, so lonely

With just a shadow beside

Wait for you till the sunset

And the morning’s next arrive.

Ship across this ocean

Gives hope that it finds you

The heart that departed once ago

Cries again to bind with you.

I look for you in broad daylight

And here in the silvery night

Counting on my footsteps

On every rush of tides………………………….

The Awake Mercy Home- The Home for Destitutes.

“This is my village and here is my home” mutters Velankanni an orphan, living in The Awake Mercy Home, at a remote village called Kanniadi in Dindigul district in Tamilnadu, India. Velankanni is 16, and studies in twelth standard with a dream of becoming a software engineer.

The sun was over our head, myself with my friends, Tshewang, Atiraj (daju), Hem Kumar Adhikari, Ponu Sodharshan and Anish had this joys visit to this Awake Mercy Home, one fine Sunday, where we were joined by mom and dad of my friend Divya from Kerala and in fact they were our guides to that place.

This was sure a dream comes true to me, as I always wished to visit it, ever since I heard it from my friend Divya.

Awake Mercy home is a home for the orphan and poor children and even some old people had found a safe living room there. Started 10 years ago by N. Krishna Moorthy, who himself had married an orphan lady had taken this noble act to provide and safeguard the poor children of god.

It’s a safe haven for 32 orphans and poor children from in and around Dindigul district; it provides no less comfort to these children than being on the mother’s lap.

With a comfortable concrete building with serene beauty of the green village, with bed rooms, TV room, study and prayer rooms. Children of various age groups and standards from classes four to degree stay there, sharing the joys of being in that glorious family of Awake.

Beside the daily study hours and various recreational for the little children they are also groomed with spiritual practices, such as prayers and yoga.

What keep these children unique from the rest are their smile, discipline and diligence gaze. You shall be greeted with smile and welcome note as you enter the gate and you feel them not less than your own sons and daughters.

Their smile and those soft voices share both their pains and joys of being born in this world. The little children who have lost the care of their parents and brothers and sisters have found a house here. The hardness of life and pain of being orphan although couldn’t be forgotten but as well cannot beat the lighting hopes of these children, their smile wipes their tears and their laughter closes their cries, which the simple gaze over their brilliant eyes forecasts the hope for their brighter hope and glory of life.

How lovely those children are, I find no suitable word to write it down, and sure, they would one day be a missionaries to carry and furnish the world with love and compassion and light the world.

AWAKE MERCY HOME

(The Home for Destitutes)

3/2/69, 3^rd Ward, K. Maniyakaranpatti, Kanniadi (PO)

Dindigul Dt. 624705, Tamilnadu, South India

They share their own story

“I heard several fire broke-out and they been compensated and land kidus granted to many landless people elsewhere, but here nothing such came to us, may be the government has no lands left to compensate us” she smiles sitting on the muddy veranda of her hut, and pour pain over her saying “But we’ll have no land specially paddy fields for our sons, I am just worried about it”,

If you walk up that white road lining up to the Tintalay mining, you would notice hundreds of acres of land captured by the Jitti river, digging ditches everywhere throughout the fertile paddy fields, where tons of rice grew once upon a time is now a barren dried river beds.

And what is so panic is that the river is pulling the village every year towards it. Walk up along and you could see the sinking, undulation and flutter created by the pull of the river.

Many villagers have lost their paddy fields and the river is threatening by eroding the fragile land and if it continues we’ll one day speak that once there was a beautiful village.

People are thankful to government that at least the Ministry of Agriculture tried planting trees to strengthen the sliding land, but it has all gone in vain as everything was washed away during that summer.

The swollen river during summer never gives the calm sleep to the people just as how elephants keep them awake when the paddy becomes ready to harvest.

If not looked immediately, hundreds of people will be without land especially paddy fields and houseless. “What more can we do now, it’s clearly visible to everyone who passes this way, we have offered and every day offering our prayer, we have no wealth and strength to block the river, may god saves us” is the only word you hear if you ask them.