The Eye's Candy

                             

 There was a twinkle in her eyes, when she heard the candyman’s bicycle bell. Two rupee would be sufficient to get her this desired happiness, that moment. Before he could cross by her house, she scurried to her mother and got the amount. She came running to the gate while her mother was keeping a eye on her, from a distance. This time it was not the regular guy so she was being extra careful.

The man asked which colour that she preferred and she pointed her finger at the pink –white combination, which meant she liked the strawberry flavour. She gave the coins and indoors. She went to the kitchen to show her mother, her most prized possession at that moment. Her mother smiled and also told her to have it after she was done with her lunch. She was not quite ready to listen but then she knew that if she disobeyed, then the chances of getting the candy as and when she desired, would be negligible.  She kept the candy safely on her study table and then went to have her lunch. Now the most common characteristic of children as such is that they tend to forget certain things, which would have meant a lot, for a particular moment, when there is a bigger catch and in her case was television. It was her favourite ‘Tom and Jerry’ cartoon and so she was definite to forget the entire world. As the day was drawing to an end, the 8 year old came exhausted after her enthusiastic play time with her friends. She then washed her hands and feet, chanted the evening prayers quickly, and then as a flash of thought, she recalled about her candy. She went to the room as she knew where exactly she had kept her dear candy. Oh God! It was not there. She searched beneath her books, inside her school bag, under the table and as if it had vanished all of a sudden.  Her tears were right at the brink of her eye, but she controlled it, wondering where to find it.

She went to the backyard, just next to the kitchen and sat on the steps, gazing at the sky.  She always marvelled the moon. Perhaps, there was a divine connection. During her cherubic years, her mother would always show her the Moon in the sky, tell her happy fables and put her to sleep. She was trying to recall where she could have kept it, with eyes scanning the sky horizontally. Her mother called her for dinner and she went with a gloomy face. Her dad asked her about her day and she was answering in a disinterested manner and did not utter a word about the candy. Her mom, intervened with a friendly gesture, tapped on her head, and told about the candyman. Her love for those specific candy was known to all and when her dad asked her how it tasted, her mom was about to say something, when the shift was on the tears rolling down the little ones eyes. Her parents were bewildered and wanted to know of the sudden trigger that made their child cry. They were patient and when she calmed moderately, she narrated the entire story, gasping for breath in the middle. Her mother was patting her back to calm her and then she loosened her arms and then disappeared from the room. Her dad, meanwhile, said that he would get her another one, the next day. The subdued cry was as if instigated, she sobbed and said she knew that the candyman came only once a week with those special variety. He told her to drink water and finish her food. She was eating slowly, still a tear or two trickling down, denoting gradual closure. 

Her mom then came in and told her , if she was done with her dinner and crying, to follow her to the kitchen. The candy was right next to the spice box and as per her instructions that she gave her mom (Mom, can you keep the candy in the kitchen as I fear the ants might eat it, I am going out to play).  In the excitement of joining her friends, she completely forgot this bit of the conversation, during her hunt later in the evening. She gave a naughty grin and hugged her mom. She then got  totally involved in her precious candy treat and smiled, up at her Moon.

 

The Flower Pot Wreath

Courtesy : Google Images

Azaan lived a dream of achieving the best in life,

In the bleak shadow of reality where his parents lived a humble life under the threat of a knife

His toys were numbered and mostly the discarded broken ones by the rich,

His clothes were those which were worn by the Wazir's son- Nuzich,

The school was a make-shift and he was happy going there,

His teacher who was clad in hijab, was soft-spoken and very kind

The stories that she shared created the vision of a happy world in their minds

Where the people lived in harmony and love in their hearts.

The treaty yet to be signed, was postponing the fate of their hamlet

Perhaps all their prayers were being heard by their very own Allah

The sub-conscious mind was breeding a fear for the multitude

The body and heart was focusing on the present with a hopeful attitude

The judgement day brought in a silence in the air around

Even the sudden honking of the jeep brought a shiver in the spine

He was all set to go to his school, the only shrine of love and peace

The road revealed a strange sight of abandoned vehicles and no gunmen

He was eager to tell the news that perhaps the monsters have fled the city

As he approached the first floor, he could hear the prayer of hope in the name of Allah

The speed of his footsteps increased and he pushed a flower pot off then floor by mistake

He reached the doorstep, smiling and panting, to greet his teacher and paused

In the blink of an eye, he felt a miss of his breath 

In the next breath, he opened his eyes to see the ceiling

He felt a numbness in his left side of the body, unable to move due to bruises

Azaan closed his eyes and called out to Allah with tears of mercy

The flower pot was worth 70 innocent lives, all find place in jannat for sure

The snipers could not differentiate it from the sound of the human slayer bomb

All they knew was to react within seconds and target humanity in the name of jihad

Once a shrine for wisdom and faith, now seemed like a graveyard with natural floral wreaths 

Become a True Yogi . A Pillar of Humanity.

Photo Courtesy: Isha Foundation, AdiYogi

Daily rituals of acquiring positive energies need dedication

Dedication that seems like an effortless daily chore for a Yogi 

Life shows up progressive changes in the most unexpected forms

Forms that may be invisible to the eye yet  engraved for life in the heart.

The Heart that says yes to changes with thirst for inner peace

Inner peace with which each challenge seems a breeze

A breeze that inspires every breath to seek the purpose

The purpose to be blissful and dutiful to nurture the soul.

The soul of a Yogi yearns the true essence of love and humanity

Humanity that sees beyond the lines that divide countries

Countries together follow ethics of governance for the welfare of all

Welfare that becomes filtered to serve the egoistic interests to warfare.

Warfare brings in destructive silence challenging humanitarian practices

Practices and retaliations that obstruct the source if positive energies

Positive energies yet finds a way as inner engineer to mend the wires

Wires of purity get revitalized and humans come together to witness divinity.

Divinity that sparkles as a spectacle from the sky above to the world as midnight meditation

Meditation together with the mystical theory of pancha bhoota aradhana for yogis

Yogis who take pledge to serve others with love and do daily acts of kindness

Kindness that is a true human virtue beyond caste, creed or religion of people

People who join hands with the mystic to stand together as messengers of world peace

World peace that bombs the evil intensions and showers self-esteem, compassion and care

Care for self and others, proactive deeds and happiness though daily practices by us as a Yogi

A Yogi who does the right thing at the right time to serve the highest good to safeguard human race.

B - BEAUTY BEYOND BOUNDARIES

Welcome to the era of speed that helps us cross boundaries upon a breath.

The best thing is the presence of beauty in anything and everything we cross.

A beauty that exists as a blessing for Nature and reflected in human nature.

It is the bond of humanity that spreads the peaceful thought in the air we inhale.

The echo ‘I am Love and a Gift for mankind from the Divine’ enters each soulful mind.

A power on the Earth to protect and flourish beauty in various forms and emotions.

The passion of humanitarian love meant to eradicate the atrocities of war and destruction.

With the purest message of ‘Creating One World’ bringing the world immersing all virtual global boundaries.

Every smile signals acceptance above racism, for a universal family built on equality and honesty.

Where the beauty within reflects in the unconditional acts of kindness beyond the heaps of money.

There will be the overflow of happiness and gratitude as the lovely springs in the valleys of countries.

The fluttering of the white flags will be the spectacle from the sky above to indicate the happy lifestyle.

People- black or white, rich or poor, healthy or weak, educated or illiterate help and care for one another.

Finally, peace and love is gifted to all with the virtue of Godliness, angels speeding to pass unconfined beauty beyond boundaries.

A - Attention and Affection Appreciated with Gratitude!

When eyes become the remote control to reach the heart

They wander freely in the Universe anywhere and everywhere to filter the purest art

This art is the beautiful creation of the Almighty, ushering love most unique

Where expressions and characters showcase shades of joy of every clique

Continued association channels the best and makes way to more attention

It is with familiarity that the beautiful seed shoots up the flower of affection

Affection, they say grows deeper and shines brighter in the journey of time

The springs of love get woven to build meaningful relationships over time

The perfume of fondness envelops the aura and the heart connects to the breath

The winds of change take people to far places, yet the mind connects to every breath

Where the seasons change and so does attention, the memories of affection remains fresh

A grateful heart shares the memories to reminisce the thoughts of pure love afresh 

GratitudeHumans : The Magical Shoemaker

Google Images

“Her tiny feet touched the floor beyond her knee upright

Her tender fingers trembled as she held on to the wooden chair set right.

She fell with a thud and expressed the pain through a shrill cry

While every time the exercise continued, there were a lot of eyes to pry.

The bone specialist suggested a neuro flaw that was rare and unseen

The desire to see her walk seemed a mission that was slow to be seen.

The medication oils gave no respite but a silent melancholy to all

The tiny feet yearned to move as she saw the others doing it all.

The magical day arrived when the solution knocked at the doorstep

The cobbler, a mid-age man with perfect hands to design shoes going every doorstep.

A regular face and a smiling persona who valued the gifts in kind with gratefulness

His art of mending shoes was seen in the patience and his simple mindfulness.

He was back from his village and smiled at the tiny tot who responded quick

The agony was shared and took his tools as though to perform a trick.

The tiny footprints were taken with care and he settled down on his chore

No questions asked, the mother held the child who was on a mischievous crawling chore.

Google Images

An hour long wait gave the little princess her first customized shoes

The shoemaker had made it special by adding a lot of pink hues.

The next task was to make her accustomed to this new accessory for her feet

With prayers and patience the mission seemed to progress with the first few steps on her feet.

Within a week, the miracle happened and the little one seemed more confident

The special shoe was a precious asset that made the family very much confident.

This special shoemaker made even more frequent visits every since that day

His special creation made her walk, play and run in her style  every day.

He was considerate and would always appear at the right time

When her shoe would desperately need a magical makeover with size, shape and time.

The smiling cobbler would take home cash, sweets and new clothes for his family

The girl would always await his arrival to mend her shoes and flaunt it to all happily.”

The job of a cobbler may seem menial but it may become a blessing to those who need the right footwear to make the initial steps.  These men wander in the sun and rain from one street to another to mend shoes. The art of mending the torn shoes is unique and the passion for perfection is innate as can be seen in the shine on the shoes. Gratitude to all these hardworking cobblers who are angels of hope for thousands and a blessing for the school or office goers.

MyJampoTales: I See the First Icy Rain

                        

As the thick dark clouds loomed across the sky to make visibility dimmer

The rain brought respite in the scorching summer simmer.

With the force of wind so strong that the branches broke off the guava tree

The sound of the gusty weather tempted me to peep through the window carefree.

The sudden deafening sound of the thunder revoked my plan as I snuggled under my cottony quilt

With the main power supply cut off in our locality, the lightening revealed the canals with piles of silt.

The candle illuminated the darkness in the house one a while with the pitter-patter on the panes

The calculations pertaining to the speed and velocity of light flickered in my memory lanes.

The asbestos sheet on the roof seemed like being subject to stone pelting from the sky

There were familiar voices to heard outside while I opened the widow half way facing the sky.

A chilly feel send goose-pimples as I maneuvered my arms out to feel the numbness

The white irregular pieces strewn in my garden were like snowballs in the muddy, grassy wetness.

The rain has subsided, permission granted, I ventured into my adventure game

At first in the pockets of my skirt and then a steel glass helped store the milky chunks all tame.

I wasn’t the only one, but many in my neighborhood were as busy as me with glee

While I held few white stones in my palms, I could feel the cold arresting my arms, as it formed drops to flee.

Before the era when technology rules, the first feel of the icy rain was truly blissful

As I perceived the hailstorm with joy , the white ice stones still remain amazingly beautiful.

Note: This is a mini-series of my childhood and teen years in Jamshedpur through which I wish to share memorable tales of people, culture, food, festivals and lifestyle in the early 80's  and 90's.  I call it MyJampoTales. Photograph credit goes to Google Images/ Social Media. Thanks for stopping by, to read and rekindle your childhood memories as well.