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Karmanye Vadhika Raste

Karmanye Vadhika Raste ..

 

The species of human beings is very peculiar.

 

Four incidents triggered me into writing this piece.

 

A group of young boys live exactly opposite us. Good and decent boys ' friendly and always courteous. These boys would often ask us for water or tea. We willingly gave it to them and always with pleasure. It was an extremely hot summer and one day they returned home late in the night and asked us for cold water. We gave them the 'matka paani' ' with a smile ' politely, honestly and sincerely telling them that none of us drank refrigerated water. They looked at us strangely ' and probably thought that we did not want to give them refrigerated water ' well what they thought was their matter ' we knew we were honest and just let the matter rest. Incident cleanly forgotten ' a few days later ' on my way out I saw them borrowing a bottle of cold water from another neighbour ' I smiled and wondered- .I wondered-    and smiled.

 

Our next door neighbour has two girls ' aged 5 years and 8 months respectively. They did have a tough time managing both of them during the summer vacation. The father did all the vegetable shopping for the family as the mother had her hands full just managing both of them. They would frequently borrow from us ' a lime today ' a tomato on another day ' chillies ' little things ' never of much consequence ' and we willingly gave it to them ' we understood their predicament ' and all was fine till one day they asked for a lime and I did not have one. Another day ' it was a tomato ' and bingo ' I did not have that too ' and all of a sudden the borrowing has stopped.

 

The girls fell sick ' one after the other ' during the summer ' and I played the role of a Good Samaritan and looked after them when the mother was visiting the doctor. But the next time the 8 month old fell sick ' I had a lecture to deliver ' and said as much ' and ' yeah ' you guessed right ' the baby sitting duty while going to the doctor has stopped ' pronto! It took a different turn - but ' when ' often the mother had to buy something from the market ' she would enquire if I was free and leave the kid with me. One fine day ' the normally quiet 8 month old 'simply started bawling her lungs out ' she clearly wanted her mamma and refused to be consoled. I was at my wits end ' not knowing what to do ' even the maids pitched in to console her ' but in vain. On her return the mother herself witnessed the fervour with which she was crying ' but incredulously ' both the kids ' have now stopped coming home.

 

I had to use two sensible family members as a sounding board before I could sort out my thoughts. I recalled how happy I had felt when one of my ex students made a long distance call one fine evening just to say that she quite often thought of me and that she missed me because now had no one to edit her articles and send it to the local newspaper. I had touched a young girl's life in some positive way ' and she had called me up to thank me for it. What a beautiful virtue ' gratitude is ' I mused to myself .

 

Suddenly everything fell into place 'helping people when I could was within my control ' what they think of me when I cannot help them is beyond my control '  and the Bhagavad Gita's verse came to my mind ' Karmanye Vadhika Raste ' Maha Phaleshu Kadachana ' It was my duty to help people when I could  - but never to expect gratitude or understanding. On my part -I knew I was not trying to teach anyone a lesson and that thought brought me peace And so life goes on ' I've  learnt one more lesson thoroughly' You do your duty  but don't expect gratitude and understanding from anyone ' at all!

 

Brinda R Shah.

 

 

Posted in Introspection.

3 comments

By brinda shah – August 19, 2009


Sab Saho Mast Raho

SAB SAHO MAST RAHO


He has always been my friend. I would talk to him, write to him, fight with him, go off into elaborate silent wars with him or simply share his company by listening to soul stirring chants or sing school prayers ' the words of which I always understood. Vedic Chants or the reputed Suprabhatam ' I do not claim to have mastered ' neither do I understand their profound meaning ' But YES ' YES ' YES ' they did give me a strange sense of peace ' a sense of serenity and the power to accept (without grumbling )the trials and tribulations the forthcoming day would bring.


 


He never lets me down ' it's just that I have to understand his subtle ways. Our 3rd floor flat overlooks a busy intersection of main roads. My favourite areas are the balconies. I frequent it umpteen times in a day while performing the household chores. I often get a glimpse of an auto parked under our building or plying people in our neighbourhood. It carried a boldly written line in Hindi  - Sab Saho Mast Raho. It was simple, effective and profound at the same time. Probably he knows that we are undergoing a turbulent period right now and it is his way of saying ' Be calm in the midst of this crisis but do not forget to be content. Contentment will lead to happiness. It took me a while to decipher this message ' but whenever I catch sight of this auto I smile and thank him. I had a lot to be thankful for and this somehow gave me the courage to pass through the darkness of the tunnel. He was there with me ' that was enough.


 


On one occasion - my son and I were discussing the problems he faced as a hostelite. The problems were complex and diverse. Getting used to differing food habits, temperaments, languages and idiosyncrasies of 200 teenagers housed under the same roof is no cake walk. I was his sole confidante. He had not yet forged a strong bond of friendship. We were sitting in the balcony and we noticed a boy half my son's age pushing a handcart laden with fresh flowers. Did he ever go to school or college? Had he ever eaten a pizza? Could he go out with his family to eat an ice cream? Yet he did not look sad or angry. He seemed content with his lot and was vociferous in trying to sell the flowers to passers by. Message received ' loud and clear ' I know -he did not promise me a problem free day or life ' but by looking at others who are less fortunate than us ' our problem seems to acquire its right dimensions. We have this strange tendency to harp on a problem and kept thinking AND TALKING about it. We love to magnify the problem and allow it to grow to gigantic proportions. Perhaps we should learn ' LET HAPPY THOUGHTS DOMINATE OUR DAY TODAY ' problems if seen in their true dimensions ' will simply fade away into tomorrow.


 


My mother was suffering from unbearable pain in her legs. Even the slightest of touches made her wince in pain. She spent yet another sleepless night. Her face was pale and fatigue was writ on it. Yet she spent her quiet time with her Holy Books and rituals. What courage and what faith!!!!!


 


Pain ' unbearable pain ' whether it is emotional, physical or mental 'jolts you to the very core of your being. It is during such trying times that we dig into our deepest reserves of faith and strength of character. It is then that we turn to him and know that he will take us through this difficult time. That he is there with us, beside us - always. The tears flow freely, the intensity of pain is excruciating and you feel truly truly alone. No one ' no one 'but you can truly understand what you are going through ' except him. And he will take care of this too. Sab Saho Mast Raho.


 


Just a passing thought ' why are we so eager to ridicule others??? If we do not understand another person's perspective or priorities ' does it give us the right to ridicule them or their actions or habits??? As long as their habit or way of living does not interfere with our own or we are not being forced to follow another person's beliefs blindly ' we should have no reason to complain. The least we could do is accept them the way they are ' at the very most ' we could respect them ' and allow them to lead their life the way they wish to. Why do we always measure other people with our yardstick? Why do we sit judgment on people's actions and beliefs all the time?


 


When our loved ones are in pain, we too feel sad. But we can call on him; he has a toll free number and is available 365 x7 x24. He will not charge you any consultation fee. You may not like the bitter medicines called 'pain' that he prescribes ' but at the end of the day/life ' he will promise to make you not only better but also 'a better person.' He has only one condition ' YOU MUST COME WITH FAITH ' A LOT OF IT. He is my friend ' God ' and he will also bless you!


 


BRINDA R SHAH

Posted in Introspection.

2 comments

By brinda shah – August 19, 2009


The Lullaby

The Lullaby


 


As gentle as the gentlest of breezes,


You soft touch smoothens the creases,


There is no reason to fret and frown,


For I know you are there when we are down.


 


Deal with the blows if you must


But give us the strength to rise with the dust


You'll give it in fair measure no doubt


To experience you I need no clout.


 


All weary and tired and nowhere to go


I reach your threshold with a will to lie low


It was then that I heard the mellifluous tone


It stirred and uplifted my soul ' weary to the bone


 


The pealing of temple bells and the rhythmic chants


Dispelled the darkness of the mind as fear became scant


Like a tender sapling you look after till I take root


Find your own answers says your silence mute.


 


Your presence I first felt through my mother


Through the daily rituals performed by my father


I could never fathom the meaning or the reasons


But a sense of peace I felt from a distance.


 


The loud chanting and the cymbals would jingle


A holiday from school and some guests to mingle


Sweet meats to eat and new clothes to wear


To innocence this meant a festival rare.


 


On family and friends I would always rely


To solve my confusions about looks that belie


I questioned the façade and was shocked by reality


Without hesitation and thought inflicted was cruelty.



 


To most questions the answers from my seniors I got


But my values and beliefs with reality they fought


I needed to find my own answers I realized


And through books and experiences I vandalized.


 


With each passing experience I learnt something new


That by values that are inherent success will come to few


The going will sometimes be bitter and you'll find you are weak


But you lack the gumption  a sound value to tweak.


 


Your sleep is your parameter of a conscience clear


You hold peace of mind and honesty dear


But yet when you face that all time low


Just take your time and let the time go slow.


 


You thought of him when the going was good


He is sure to come when bad is your mood


You can't take the unfairness and ask for justice


But He has to balance the books and long is the list.


 


Says He:You continue to chart your own way little one


I'll hold your hand when others have long since gone


I'll gently calm you down and wipe your tears


And make you face your deepest fears.


 


Your questions continue to haunt and torment


But you will never in front of me lament


Yours eyes with sleeplessness are red and weary


But your faith in me I can see clearly.


 


Its then that I hold your heart and sing a lullaby


As you sleep peacefully - I smile serenely.


Carry not the problems of the world on your head


For all of you have to lie on the bed you have made.





 


The credit and debit you leave to me


Just focus on being the best you can be


If ever you need someone to set you free


Just remember to dial a number called ' HE!


 


Sleep well ma cherie ' tis not for you to despair


Accept people the way they are without a care


Wrong or right is just your way of seeing things


Leave the judging to me without any hinges.


 


In this world there are no free lunches


But each will follow their own hunches


The person who rises above the mundane


Is the person who in the long run will gain?


 


Rest in peace and do not despair


Do good today and try to be fair


Do not do my work for me and play God


To each his punishment I will accord


 


Farewell dear mate and tis enough for today


I know you'll call me when you have a bad day


Ill come for certain but will do what is good


Decipher what I do and do not brood!!


 


Brinda R Shah


 


 


 

Posted in Poetry.

1 comment

By brinda shah – August 19, 2009


The doer

The Doer


 


It's a story of yore with a moral which may be old


But I promise that it will to you a new facet unfold.


Having formed a clan a task was decided


And how the myriad facets of mankind were highlighted!


 


To a family of five sons a certain task was allocated,


Having sired them they tested them with breath bated.


In each one of them they found a treasury of virtues,


But in their character they were several hues.


 


The loser would always give up well in advance,


His excuse would be he is too frail to dance.


But oh with a smile which is dubious and fake


He would quietly point out the doer's mistakes.


 


Next was the grumbler ' for off and on


He would whine and cry for reasons unknown.


Finding fault without giving up on a chance to quibble,


He points an accusing finger at the doer with a voice on treble.


 


Third in row was the coward for though he was intelligent


Did not have the gumption to put thoughts to action!


He loved to play safe but would point out the errors many.


 


Fourth came the worker with the highest paid price,


He lent a hand only if gratification was paid in a trice.


His question was why should I ' when I am not paid,


The task will be done by someone more staid.


 


Along came the ideator and his ideas were ideal,


Oh! The task had to be redone but his words became feeble.


Ah to have lofty ideals and create a vision is all good


But it takes many trials before a task be done as it should!


 


Quietly came the doer and amidst the fighting and quibbling


Picked up the task and set about it without waiting for his sibling.


They jeered at him and mocked at him aplenty,


But their words had no effect on him ' such was his gentry!


 


Attention to this quiet little doer had always been scant,


They all had dismissed him for he carried no brand.


But for the world he had a message loud and clear,


The job is always be well done ' but be prepared for a 100 jeers.


 


But do not hesitate to befriend that single soul who stood by you to cheer!!!


 


 


Brinda R Shah.

Posted in Poetry.

1 comment

By brinda shah – August 19, 2009


Heart for sale

HEART FOR SALE


 


A funny thing, folks, I realized today,


I experienced grief but tears were at bay.


 


Tears which would over a trifle flow,


Were unaffected by death ' the greatest blow.


 


I looked at my heart, with my soul's faint light,


And mused at length o'er  it's sorry plight.


 


T'was worn out and frayed with too many patches,


And was bolted and locked with heavy latches.


 


I unbolted the latches ' yearning to be free,


I removed the patches and decided to be 'Me'.


 


I removed the embedded shards of glass,


I hoped this pain too would surely pass.


 


But the blood from it continued to flow,


Time ' the great healer- was painfully slow.


 


Yet when the time came it would never fail,


But I becoming weary put it up for sale.


 


Feelings, emotions, dreams and desires


For a tuppence here you can hire.


 


With it's blazing, blinding, artificial light,


You can pass through life's darkest night.


 


Along with the heart I'll give you a soul lamp,


Though it's flame is slightly dull and damp.


 


But, if you tend to it ' I assure you peace,


It may even give your weary life a new lease.


 


On using the lamp to your heart's content,


Will you give it to a man despondent?


 


They bought it on seeing my sad smile,


I wonder if they realized that it was fragile.


 


They haggled over the heart and took the soul free,


But finding it worthless, chucked it into the debris.


 


 


BRINDA R SHAH.


 


 


 


 


 


 

Posted in Poetry.

1 comment

By brinda shah – August 19, 2009


The dust storm

THE DUST STORM


 


Surely you must have heard of a storm in a teacup ' but I bet you have never heard about a storm in my nasal cavity ' well I recently had a dust storm in my nasal cavity and poor me 'I had done nothing to kick up such a big storm. Here I was being kind to my family ' by getting myself a glass of water ' before I tucked myself in bed  - I flicked on the switch and I see two antennae ' long ones ' literally threatening me ' the remaining part of the cockroach is hiding behind the matka ' and I let out a loud screech 'my poor husband ' comes running immediately and catches me before I faint look at that ..that that .what ..what???cockroach.!!!I said pointing a finger in its direction.


 


He lets me fall down with a thud ' just like him to do that ' slaps himself on his forehead ' and says ' I should have expected it from a nutcase like you ' and I let out another screech .a fainter one I am about to faint again ' dumbo ' now what is it????………………..look ' chipkali ' on my kitchen platform ' my shining clean platform .and I race back to the living room and stand on a chair. What the hell are you doing now??? Well ' you are going to shoo it out of the house aren't you ' you always do so- Real funny aren't we ' what do you think I am  - a Chipkali Chaser ' it's 11 in the night ' and I'm dead tired ' so why don't you just go to bed and allow me to watch my movie in peace .and he vamooses ..leaving me with no option ' but to go to sleep  - taking with me ' in my nightmares -the chipkali and the vanda ( cockroach)


 


The next morning is a Sunday


 


I knew you were crazy ' but today you will need a psychiatrist 'what -may I ask ' are you trying to do today ' madam???? with this pile of newspapers in your hands???? asks my bewildered husband. I am going to clean the kitchen ' look at all the cobwebs .and the dusty newspapers on the shelves spray insecticide no vandas or chipkalis for me ..I had cobwebs in my dreams yesterday too .but I was talking to myself .he had already put on the vanishing act ..I let him be ' men ' that extraordinary species ' you just had to bear their idiosyncrasies ' he let me do all the muttering and banging that I did ' It was my way of attracting his attention and asking for help ' half an hour later ' after he has finished with his paper and coffee ' he tiptoes through the mess .and finds me very ' very -very busy indeed —-reading the old newspapers ' which I had spread out amidst the utter mess on the floor ' cleaning spree or raddi reading spree?? pretending to be busy aren't we?? ..come on ' now ' lets finish the whole thing .quickly .he brings the duster and dusts dusts .mops mops .the shelves ..and I go Achhooooooooooooooooooo hand him an arm full of jars and tins .two shelves later ..after more dusting and mopping and more Achooooooooooooooooooooooooos .he catches sight of the Chipkali .and chases it around for half an hour till it disappears out of the window .me I had fainted again while sneezing my nose out a hanky around my nose and hair .looking like Phoolan Devi ' the bandit queen we somehow manage to clean the entire kitchen ..by now the weather for the forthcoming 4 days had been forecast - by my nose ..day one .incessant Achoooooooooooooooooing the sneezing spree .only let up ..while my loving husband fed me hot tomato soup bought from my favourite joint (Can a person who has a dust storm in ones nose rustle up lunch???- elementary ' my friend) day two was intermittent dust storms .with frequent bouts of sneezing .and a chest congestion ..my loving husband got me a new hot water bottle ' and reported for work .day three blocked nose, ear and watery eyes I manage to rustle up a simple meal .and day four ..the Ganges is flowing through my nose .and the sink has become my best friend and my nose could certainly put Rudolf the red nosed reindeer to shame!


 


Well ' I decided to put an end to my permanent animosity with the Chipkali dude and the Vanda bhai(cockroach ' nutto ' how many times do I have to repeat it).So next time they bait me with their antennae or their yucky looks ' I'd rather create a storm in a teacup and make myself a good cuppa of ginger tea than have a dust storm in my nasal cavity. So if you come visiting to my house ' cobwebs may welcome you and vandas may crawl over the floor ' but you bet ' you'll get an excellent cup of tea  - and now you'll also know the reason ' for both!


BRINDA R SHAH

Posted in Humour.

2 comments

By brinda shah – August 18, 2009


The parachute




THE PARACHUTE


 I was in the midst of teaching adjectives one fine day and to make the topic more interesting I asked my students to  describe me. I had expected words like strict, stingy etc but was shocked when they described me as ancient, old-fashioned and redundant. On questioning them ' they told me that I always sported the chipko  look! I do admire  Sunderlal Bahuguna and the way he stuck to all the trees to protect them and I had unconsciously aped him by ensuring that my hair stuck to my head with parachute hair oil.


 


They patiently educated me and made me realize the importance of changing with the times. They told me of particular brands of shampoo that I needed to use in order to look like a trendy  teacher and eked out a promise from me to try one during my next shopping expedition.


 


Your'e right 'they had caught me off guard ' identified my one weakness and had fully exploited it as they were determined to change me for the better.


 


In keeping with my promise to them ' I steeled my heart when I approached the miniscule hair oil counter and treacherously turned  a blind eye to my favourite hair oil ' parachute. I selected the requisite shampoo and with a heavy heart weaved my way to the cash counter.


 


I had just moved up the serpentine queue ' when in sashayed  a jeans clad damsel. Before anyone could even whimper in protest ' she unclasped her long , thick , wavy , black tresses sealing all the lips  in the line permanently. My fingers refused to listen to the red alert sounded by my brain and I ran a gentle hand through her hair to feel it's softness. I envisaged that this is how I too would look if I used the shampoo but  was jolted  back to earth when I found the tresses ' the whole lot ' description et al hanging limply from my hand the very next minute.


 


The bubble burst , my vision cleared and I raced through the shopping mall with  my overladen cart ' poohing  back all the shampoohs onto the rack and returned a  la Sunderlal Bahuguna  clutching my saviour ' the parachute hair oil bottle!


 


BRINDA R SHAH

Posted in Humour.

1 comment

By brinda shah – August 18, 2009