Lighter side of life...

Take a look at the lighter side of life, take a break from the hustle and bustle of city life, chill out, unwind and break the routine. Stop ignoring the beauty of nature and start admiring and enjoying it.

Feel the freshness in the air when the first flower of spring is blooming.

Sense the subtleness when a gentle breeze of the mountain is blowing.

Look at the tenderness when a shooting bud of the plant is just emerging.

Listen to the song of the Koel when it announces the arrival of the spring.

Taste the crystal waters, found on mountain tops when you go trekking.

Watch the Sunrise at the Seashore; observe how the sparkles get generated when the bright rays of the dawn dance on the tides.

Smell the purity in the air when the first drops of the cool rain water quench the thirst of dry land. Energize your lungs with the pure scent of rain-kissed earth.

When nature has so much to offer, to please all our senses, let us take time to relax and call for a vacation.

Innocence of Childhood…

Cotton-wool clouds rolled into the blue sky as I rested in the dark shade beneath a spread of mango green, heavy with fruit.

The mango orchard was full of fragrant flowers and succulent fruits. Birds screeched as they flew from one branch to other. In the whole orchard, I was sitting alone; I looked like a butterfly resting on a leaf.

Suddenly I could hear voices; I looked around as a crowd entered into the orchard. Most of them were school kids, dressed in smart uniforms. Their hands were loaded with coloured toys.

There was a pond in one corner of the orchard, covered by trees. Some kids ran around the pond and few stood on the edge. The children giggled watching themselves in the clear water of the pond. They built pyramids and castles with sand beside the pond.

One child hurled a stone at a sleeping dog as another hurled a shell into the pond water. The first one laughed as the dog ran away with fear and the second laughed at the gentle ripple which spread as the shell fell into the water.

A whistling child came running to me and flashed his two-toothed smile. I made him sit on my lap but he was restless and managed to slip away.

Really, childhood is the best part of life and childhood memories are the sweetest ones to be cherished for the rest of life.

Random Thoughts on the Grave…

This is a post, which the reader may feel a bit harsh, a bit bitter and a bit sour to read. But as life is a combination of all tastes, here is a brief account of my random thoughts on the grave.

You can hear the echo of the skeleton’s laughter when you are near a grave. All through his life, man runs round and round the materialistic desires and after reaching the grave he realizes the truth that makes him have the last laugh on his life.

The grave is a place where dreams get shattered and are pulverized to dust. Simply, it can be called the place of burial. It is even a place where people cry all the salt out of their tears till the tears become salt-less and faces of surrounding people appear as white as marble.

Can a graveyard be considered a sacred place? Here is a real-life example which may assist you to answer the question. Once, in a crematorium, the pungent smell of burning human fat mixed with the thick smoke rising from the fire and moved towards the sky. The smoke of the pyre that got engulfed with burnt carbon particles was carried by the heavy wind that flew in the direction of a nearby temple and the devotees inhaled minute amounts of it. Here, the religion comes into question and can you call all those who have inhaled the part of that smoke while in prayer, impure? If they cannot be called so, then can the crematorium be considered as a sacred one.

Tears, wrung from the heart, soak through the white ashes of the bones devoured by the fire. Last remains of people keep lying in heaps of ashes all around the place. This cremation ground sees the end of all.

The crematorium keeper warms himself from the pyre flames in winter. Also, roses which bloom all over the grave look as beautiful as the ones which grow in the garden. Bees which collect nectar from the garden do collect it with the same enthusiasm in the graveyard also, suggesting that both life and death are not two distinctive paths but are like the parallel railway tracks which always run together but never dare to meet.

Man is like a thirsty deer that readily springs up and runs madly at the sight of a mirage, assuming it to be water, in a desert. All through his life he chases the illusions called desires and finally give up when he arrives at the grave.

The Restless Boy Returns…

This is a sequel to my September post “The Restless Boy”. Majority of the readers wanted a sequel and after taking my own time to bring it into a presentable manner, finally here it is. Go on my dear reader, check what the boy is up to this time. I’m sure you could spot mischief in his cute little eyes.

The rattling sound of bullock carts, herd of buffaloes grazing, earthen pots being sold on pavements, women walking on foot through mud tracks and balancing brass pots full of water on their hips, flakes of dull green cow dung on either sides of the road - yes, you guessed it right, we are at the threshold of a village, the place where the cute little boy lives. It is vacation time for him and we are sure to find him engrossed in games.

Now we have reached his house. His mother is sitting in the veranda and stitching a patch on the old umbrella. The jar which used to be packed with home-made country cakes is now empty; definitely the boy is not at home. As usual, he is on an outing. Come, let’s catch him.

The boy is nowhere to be seen. On his way home from school, he used to often spend hours in the mango orchard, wandering around in search of the ripened fruit. Sometimes he goes in search of a disused well and peeps into it to estimate its depth. But as it is vacation time, he does none of these and hence it’s difficult to spot him.

Look, there he is, the boy is as cheerful as ever. He is not wearing a shirt but is busy chasing dragon flies in the fields.

Look, the boy is sitting on the bamboo fence and staring at the chameleon. He is busy observing with innocent eyes, the way it changes its colour.

Look, the boy, though soaked in sweat, dances restlessly to the tune from the latest film as dust clings to his wearied feet.

Look, the boy is hiding among the rocks and feeding on the sunlight and the wind.

Look, the boy is sitting on the bank of a river and throwing stones into it. He laughs as the ripples shy away.

From clothesline hung in the courtyard, a crow caws as the boy returned home for lunch. He draws cool water from the deep well and takes a bath. He sings his favourite song while washing his dust stricken body. What is he having for lunch? Well, I could spot salty mango pickle on a green plantain leaf. Wait, he is now mixing the steaming rice with the pickle and ghee. He is gobbling tiny morsels of the steamy mixture.

Just after lunch, is the boy relaxing, where is he? Look, there he is in the garden, playing with earthworms of various sizes.

It was a long sun burnt day and finally after his days work, the sun was packing his bags, giving way to his counterpart, the cool moon. Oil was poured and the temple lamps were lighted. Then, the temple bells started ringing. The boy on hearing them ran down the lane and hurriedly climbed the steps and reached the temple.

There were fireflies in the temple surroundings and the boy looks astounded as he notices a spark at the end of each firefly’s tail. As the temple deity was being decorated with scented tulasi garlands, the boy smears his forehead with vibhuti and sindoor and offers prayers to God, wishing that his mother should give him innumerable chocolates, biscuits and sweet pan cakes.

the cute little boy is restless, as always…

Simple Thoughts on Life…

What is life - perhaps a coin, a repeatedly tossed coin and death is simply the other side of this same coin of life. Life is all about common concerns, anxieties, hopes, attitudes and visions of the present and future. People mistake this coin of life to be a biased one, but alas, it will be too late till the day they realize that it is in fact a fair coin with the ferocious death on its other side.

The day has changed on the calendar. Yesterday is gone, joined with the past and will never come back. Yesterday’s flowers are dead in their vases; they will be replaced by today’s fresh ones and so is life. Generations come and generations go leaving behind their remains which keep lying in heaps of ashes, but a change is certain. Nothing is here to stay forever, everything has to keep moving.

A newly lighted candle, burns with a lot of enthusiasm. It emits a lot of light and enjoys the attention of everybody in the room but never realizes that it is melting and getting diminished. By the time it realizes it melts completely and is now too late to save itself. It suffers by flickering a lot and finally sleeps, leaving the room in darkness, and such is the case with life.

In this infinite universe, every being is like a grain of sand in a flowing river. In the river called fate, we get carried away along with its flow all through the course of our life.

Rhythm of Morning...

After such lengthy posts, here is an opener for a series of very short writings. Such tiny postings are intended to relax the reader.

The silent hour of night has come to an end giving way to a ravishing golden dawn. Can you hear the cry of a child? A woman next-door is giving her child a bath. The southern breeze is blowing the drops of dew off the cheeks of flowers. The newspaper boy is on his way down the street. You can also hear the sound of oil splashed onto the burning pan, someone started to cook. The phone is repeatedly ringing, but everyone around are quite busy, people rushed to offices, while their children walked to school.

A car speeds by, forming a cloud of dust and dry leaves, leaving behind thick black exhaust fumes. Women as a part of daily prayers are worshipping the tulsi plant. The ants are singing in chorus, servant maids have just arrived; one cleans a rag, another washes dishes, another beats clothes, various sound waves mix up to form a rhythm, the rhythm of morning.

Dreaming my dreams...

This post is here to justify the title of this blog. The reader must imagine beyond barriers of his mind to understand the true essence of my dream.

It was a tired day. All through the day I slogged and drenched myself in sweat, only to finish the work on time. A strong penchant for recognition made me work hard and gradually transformed me to a complete workaholic. Finally, I started to tread in the path of depression.

I’m fatigued; my body resembled an image of stone, my veins became stiff as my blood started to freeze like ice. I dropped onto the cot like a lifeless lump of flesh and went into sleep. In this silent hour of night, shadowed by the feathery clouds, I slept like the statue on the street, in the dead of night, hoping for a better tomorrow.

In the cool moonlit night, I dreamed my dreams.

In my dream, I saw camels and horses flying in thin air,

In my dream, I saw sand turning into sugar,

In my dream, I saw mountains turning into bread,

In my dream, I saw river water turning into honey.

I grabbed the mountains with my hands, sprinkled the sand turned sugar on it and took the whole honey river into a teaspoon and poured it on the mountainous bread and started eating. Just then, it rained, oh the rain drops are turning into milk as they touch the ground and the milk thus collected in the puddles on the road, is curdling.

On my way, I met a group of souls, who repeatedly changed their costumes, sometimes human and sometimes other. I went near a mirror and looked at my own image, oh, I look just like the ones I had met on the road and my costumes resemble human. Should I plan for a change? Maybe sometime later, now I’m quite busy wandering in distant lands.

Then I went into an orchard, my goodness; the leaves are changing into fruits and fruits to leaves. Each branch is bending down laden heavily with hundreds of ripe fruits. The sea of corn fields are producing infinite yield. The sky became transparent and showed all the planets and look, there far away I could spot the milky way galaxy. This dream revitalized my soul, re-energized my body and rejuvenated my mind.

Suddenly, I felt something very soft, like the feather of a bird. Flexing my facial muscles, I woke up. It is not a feather; it is the tender ray of the morning sun. Oh, the night was too short and my dream was like a flash. I wish I could sleep for a longer time, so long that a clock cannot hold and dream all my dreams at once. But I love to watch the sunrise.

The sky is welcoming the sun with hearty colors which are so pleasure to watch. Dawn is undeniably the pleasant and most beautiful part of a day. Now, the sun has shown in the sky, spreading light to all corners. The bright light of the sun brings noble feelings to every soul.

Sitting on the branch of a tree, the early bird wagged its tail ceaselessly. Bells of the temple make the sound of purity. Souls in human costumes began their morning walk down the lanes.The gentle rays of the sun gave enough warmth to the hen's egg, helping her to hatch the young one.

The sparrows flutter and spin searching for grains in the freshness of the morning breeze. Seeing laughter in the sun, now the clouds display different combinations of colors. The shy sun is so excited by the new day that his smile brings us the hope of a great day.

Life is full of joys and sorrows, smiles and tears, hopes and fears. It is our duty to forget the bad and retain what is good for future.

The Mischievous Mosquito...

Here is a short story from my childhood diaries, having humorous flavor. You may not laugh out loud but a smile is assured.

This happened when I was in my fifth standard. Competitions were being conducted in our school, prior to the sports day. I took part in running race, short jump, cricket and table tennis. After a tiring day at school, I returned home worn-out and exhausted and desperately wanted to have bath, eat something and sleep. But things took a turn, there were relatives at home.

My uncle and his family came to visit us. His two kids, both younger than me, were busy playing with few of my old toys. I joined them and played till dinner time. Then again, it was a long dinner; people were eating less and talking more, driving me nuts. After a long post-dinner conversation, they left at eleven ‘o’clock in the night. Oh at last, I can sleep now; I ran into my bedroom and dived onto the cot like a fish evading from the fisherman’s net and plunging back into the waters to breathe free. I was happy that I could sleep and dream the whole night.

I closed my eyes and was at the threshold of sleep when I suddenly heard a faint buzzing sound. Slowly, the amplitude of the sound wave increased, I didn't pay much attention and continued to sleep. But I was forced to wake up to find a mosquito buzzing right at the opening of my ear. I tried to hit it with my hand but I couldn't spot it in the surrounding darkness. Then, I covered my face with the blanket and tried to doze off, but the buzzing noise could be heard again, louder and thunderous than before. I lost my patience, got up immediately and switched on the tube light.

There he is, the young mosquito, flying high almost touching the roof, like an eagle soaring in the sky. I brought a mosquito repellent coil, lighted it, placed it near my bed, switched off the light and slept. Again I could hear the same old buzz down my ear; the noise was enough to raise my temper. I got up took some cotton, stuffed as much as I could into both my ears, covered my face with the blanket and slept again. My goodness, the buzzing can be heard again, I pressed the cotton in my ears with index fingers of both my hands. Ah, now I could hear only my heart beat and breathe nothing else.

This is not fair, definitely not fair, I’m tired, I have tolerated enough and in spite of all the arrangements that I have made for myself, I could still hear him, the foolish mosquito. I got up, straight away switched on the light, cancelled the peace treaty and declared war on the notorious mosquito. The room was full of thick smoke produced by the useless coil and look, there he is, flying like a fighter jet through the clouds of smoke looking as energetic as ever. He seems to be untouched by the smoke. Maybe he knows how to control his breath or may be this stupid mosquito coil is meant not to drive away the brutal mosquitoes but to encourage them.

The cruel mosquito was hungry, he desperately wanted to drink my blood and while I was looking at the coil, he established himself on my hand and when he was about to pierce his needled mouth, I hit him hard, I’m sure he is crushed under my palm. Unfortunately no, he is again back in the air, doing stunts like a winged warrior. If required, I will spill my blood for my country but will never spare even a tiny drop to such an idiotic mosquito. I laid my hands on the table, took the tennis racket and attacked him with full swing, but alas, it was a futile attempt as the goon escaped from the gap in the net. Then I grabbed my cricket bat from the floor and decided to hit the scoundrel mosquito for a big six, going out of the stadium. I swung the bat raucously but failed to read the line and length of the ball and got beaten by the swinger.

If I were the president, I would command my whole army against this deadly mosquito. In a fit of anger, I took a pillow in my hand and threw it with full force in the direction of the roguish mosquito. Oh my goodness, what have I done, the pillow went like a missile and hit the flower vase and the clock, which were on the table. There was a big thud, enough to wake the neighbors; both the vase and the clock fell on the ground. The little rascal was now near my shoulder, again buzzing. I tried to crush him between my hands. He flew away like a bullet fired from the gun's nozzle and my hands made a big clap producing a raucous sound. The silence of the night made the sound more clear and loud.

My parents, grand mother and sister all rushed into my room. ‘What the hell is going on here’ was the first question. By the time I could answer it, I found that this cheater mosquito quietly slipped out of the window. I got a tight scolding for breaking the vase and cracking the clock; that too in the middle of the night. The clock stuck two, my God; I was fighting with that gangster mosquito for almost three hours. Fully exhausted, I just dropped myself on the bed.

The next day, I woke up after a bit of struggle, but my eyes were still red. At school, my friends had a hearty laugh listening to my story. By the end of the day there was a big smile on my face, like to know why? Ah, I smartly managed to sleep in the class after lunch.

Journey through the Countryside…

Here is a short and sweet imaginary journey through the countryside. The amount of pleasure you experience while reading this post solely depends on how well you use your imagination.

Are you ready to give the eyes of your mind, a big treat? Here is what the countryside has to offer...bamboo-rich mountain slopes, fully bloomed flowers swarmed over by bees, red-beaked parrots biting ripened fruits, cool waterfalls, farmers sowing seeds in their well ploughed broad fields, blue lily blooms in the lake waters, curl-horned buffaloes giving milk to their toddling calves, clear water puddles filled with leaves, boys bathing in the chilled lake waters at dawn, herds of cows with bells round their necks are grazing, hares are running on the cool grass, appealing view of the sparkles created by the sun’s first rays upon the lake waters, etc. It would be a pleasure to watch all those scenes. This is the season of cool rains; you find greenery almost everywhere. Visiting the countryside in this season is like a blessing in disguise.

Look at that mesmerizing scenery of the mountain tops vanishing into the clouds. Are you able to hear the syrupy sounds of birds and bees? See towards your left, can you find the deer wandering around? Now turn to your right, is there a beautiful lake? Take a deep breath; can you smell the fragrance of fresh flowers in the air? If your answer is yes, then here we are, just arrived at the right place, ‘the countryside’. The dove coos excitedly and the bees are singing in a happy choir, announcing our arrival.

The air here is full of oxygen, enough to raise the spirit of the lungs up to the brim. Leaves are scattered by the southern breeze. The blade of grass is soft, smooth and silky. The farmers are sowing paddy seeds in their wide fields and also clearing the weeds. From the lake’s grass-grown bank, you can observe the reflection of the beautiful landscape in the cool lake waters. At the far corner of the lake, a flock of white swans are swimming. Such a sweet smell, are you carrying a bottle of perfume with you? No, actually the air is filled by the smell of jasmine buds, yes, few jasmine plants have grown on the edges of the paddy fields and this scent is their contribution.

The cuckoo started screaming, flying from one branch to another, like a weather satellite with his forecast of rain. Suddenly there is a cloud burst, wait don’t run for shelter, we have come for enjoying the beauty of nature and not to shy away. Get drenched in this celestial seasonal rainfall, who knows, this may be our life’s last rainy season, don’t let go such an occasion.

Did you happen to drink few drops of this rain water? They must be really sweet? Aren’t they? They ought to be sweet because this gigantic cloud family rounded up the whole globe collecting the vaporized drops from all the oceans, seas, rivers, lakes, ponds and almost every water body they have come across and here they are offering us the taste of their longtime collection.

Here, I have a small doubt, who told these clouds to sacrifice themselves by melting in air and pour down the joy of rain? Well, it was according to Mother Nature’s holy plan, once she called an angel and said “Our crops stood thirsty for water, send a message to the clouds to shower rains and quench the thirst of dry fields, on their way to distant lands”. The angel conveyed Mother Nature’s holy message and from then onwards, clouds follow the instruction and we are blessed with rains in this season every year.

Each rain drop created its own ripple on the lake surface and here is an awesome view of multiple ripples caused by the rain drops. Also it can be observed that the clouds are watering the newly sowed paddy fields, allowing the seeds to absorb water and get adjusted to the soil. The clouds decided to relax a bit and the rain had to stop for a while, now you can see that butterflies in various colors started flying around.

A farmer just finished sowing seeds in his field and offered his little daughter a bunch of sweet lilies which had the scent of eternity. He was glad that the rains had come at the right time and hoped to get a rich harvest like the previous year.

On this happy occasion, he planned to give his fellow workers a small treat. He went inside his small hut and brought a basket full of fruits and served sweet plantains, pomegranates, ripe jack fruits on banana leaves. Juice of those fruits will taste like nectar as they were plucked from trees which had grown on the fertile hilly land. He then brought a clay pot that was hanging by the side of his hut and offered sweet butter from it, which was prepared by his wife. The feast came to an end with the guests washing their hands from the old well, present beside the hut. The well is an old one; its walls have worn out and covered by moss.

Then the farmer gets ready and leaves for the village fair, promising to bring a sari to his wife and pretty bangles for his cute little daughter. It's time for us to take leave, let us meet the farmer and his family again and be his guests during the harvest season treat. I’m sure, his hard work pays and he will taste enormous success, yielding a rich harvest of his crop. By the time we reach here next season, he will have mountainous stocks of paddy and we can get to taste the sweet rice.

Understanding Friendship...

A friend brings laughter even in tears,
A friend shares your hopes and dreams,
A friend believes in you when faith is running low,
A friend makes the world we live in, a better and a happy place,
A friend shows you that the greyest day is brighter than it seems,
A friend reduces your burden by sharing both your joy as well as pain,
A friend encourages you to take up new challenges, always assuring his help,
A friend has a caring heart whose warmth and patience never seem to have an end.

Memories of a friend makes you smile. Friendship is such a relationship that cannot be completely described either in words or in any other form. As we are human, it would be obvious to have many fellow human beings as our friends. But think of friendship with other souls present in nature. Many centuries ago, man started the practice of domestication of animals and birds for companionship and amusement. Later, this led to man-animal and man-bird friendship. Even today you find many people having pets at home. Pets at home don't remain as mere companions but are treated as friends; they share a relationship with everyone to finally become a member of the family.

Let us try to find out more about the relationship or some kind of a bond which exists between man and other objects of nature. Who can explain this to us? Ask the old man who takes his dogs out for a walk; ask the fat lady who feeds the pigeons every morning; ask the fortune teller who keeps roaming around with his parrot; ask the circus man who rides his horse daily; ask the young man who feeds squirrels in his garden with nuts; ask the cute little village boy who plays with the rabbits; ask the little girl who spends most of her time round the aquarium feeding the tiny fish; ask the shepherd about his flock; ask the cowherd who takes his herd for grazing; etc. All of them tend to give a common answer that the relation they share is nothing but friendship, proving that friendship is possible between every soul which exists in nature.

Here, I would like to narrate a true story of a human-bird friendship. This story dates back to early 1990’s. When I was studying in primary school, there used to be an old beggar sitting under a banyan tree that was opposite to our school gate. The passerby gave him coins and people living in the nearby houses gave him leftover food. A crow lived with him, sitting sometimes on his shoulders, sometimes on his head and his lap. It used to always stay with him and both the old man and the crow ate from the same bowl. If the crow found food somewhere, it would fly and get the food in its beak, sit beside the man and eat, such was their friendship. The beggar used to get water from somewhere in a bottle and would pour it in his palm, the crow would stand on his wrist and drink water from his palm. All day the old man used to talk something with the crow and in response, the crow cawed. People around used to say that the crow, in its previous birth might have been a close relative of the old man and in this birth a close friend. After an year or two, when we had summer vacation, the old man and his pal left that place, don’t know the reason why, but they were gone wandering, never to be seen again. The duo left leaving behind a moral that friendship can be done by a soul with every other soul in nature.

Shooting seedling is a symbol of new life and growth and when you water it every day, after some days a certain bond gets created between the plant and you and the day when it becomes a big tree, you get reminded of the day when you first put the seedling into the soil and watered. All these days you have been observing growth in the plant and today, it’s a huge tree. You share a friendly relationship with that tree. If we think a little beyond, yes, friendship is possible with almost everything; did you ever feel that the mango tree in your backyard is your friend? You spend most of your childhood playing underneath it; you ate the delicious fruits of the tree; you read lessons sitting in its shade; you climbed on its branches and escaped your father’s beating; is the tree not doing every task a friend is expected to do?

Look at the flower in the garden, in spite of having a short life span, it pleases our eyes with its bright colors and fills our nostrils with its fresh fragrance. Though it cannot speak, still it has life and can be made a friend too.

I would like to give a real life example to prove how a friendly bond first starts between a man and an animal and steadily develops into a strong bond that later becomes an inseparable one. One of my friends had a pet dog, everyone in his house loved it very much and the cute little dog responded with equal affection. It was considered one among the family members. We friends used to like the innocent looks of the pretty white dog. Whenever we visited his house, the dog would recognize each one of us and move around wagging its tail. Also, it would stand on its hind legs and give a handshake. All of a sudden, one day it got sick and was down with a deadly disease. Doctors tried everything which was possible but their attempts went in vain, leaving the dog struggle with lot of pain. Finally, unable to resist the disease, the dog gave up its fight for survival and its soul got liberated leaving everyone shocked. My friend and his family were struck with grief and couldn't digest the fact that it no longer exists. My friend pronounced on the day that never again should they have a dog as a pet in their house; his family agreed. After almost a year, they somehow accepted the fact but its memories will never leave them. They were very much upset by the incident and dropped the idea of going for a pet dog again.

No soul can ever overcome the pain in losing a friendly soul's company. Everyone hopes that friendship to remain intact as long as they live. God has given his creation a beautiful bond between hearts, a boon called 'friendship', which is as vital in this world as breath is for a living soul.

The Restless Boy…

Here is a page or two from my childhood diaries. To make it more interesting and to allow the reader to recollect his childhood days, you can notice that instead of me, I have chosen the cute little village boy to fit into my character. The reason behind projecting the boy in a village atmosphere is, its pleasant and blends well with childhood innocence.

The restless village boy…why is the boy labeled as restless? Well, here is the reason…

I see the boy chasing the yellow butterflies down the street.
I see the boy running barefoot through the burning sand, only to reach the ice cream vendor on time.
I see the boy climbing the lower branch of the tree and peeping into the pigeon’s nest to enquire whether its eggs hatched or not.

I see the boy sitting in the classroom and day-dreaming. It’s an important lecture and our boy is busy building castles in the air.
I see the boy climb up the hill within minutes to meet his pals, the shepherd and his flock.
I see the boy in mango orchards, stealing a mango in the gardener’s absence.

I see the boy drench in the rain and make paper boats float on the stream of rain water.
I see the boy playing the game of marbles with his neighbourhood friends.
I see the boy roaming with his friends at the village fair, intending to buy every toy on display.
I see the boy fleeing from the village and reaching the shrine on the outskirts.
I see the boy pull a blade of grass and throw it as high as possible into the air and laugh aloud.
I see the boy hanging along with his friends from the tree branches, like a monkey.
I see the boy running through the paddy fields and drinking water from the field pumps.
I see the boy wandering aimlessly in the streets, like the flowing river water through a valley.
I see the boy flying a kite and feeling proud as the kite soars high into the sky.
I see the boy celebrate his birthday and share gifts, books, toys, and marbles with his friends.
I see the boy singing in chorus with his friends, in loud jubilant voices.

I see the boy swimming in the lake waters, trying to catch the tiny fish that are touching his feet.

At last he is back home after sunset, with pocket full of marbles which he won in the game. When his mother questions him why he was not home after school, he just chuckles and goes running into his room.

The sound of marbles dropped on the floor by a running child was echoing inside the room.

The boy is shocked to find a hole in his pocket, maybe while climbing the mango tree the pocket might have torn, but he is content that he did not lose any marble. Finally, in the darkness of night, the tired boy is in his bed. After being restless the whole day, Is the boy calm and relaxing now? No, though he is sleeping, he dreams of doing all that he had done the whole day again and again.

the cute little boy is restless always…

Song of a Bird...

City life is losing its tranquility and becoming noisier day by day. A decade ago, during the hour of dawn, we could hear the birds singing on the trees. Now things have changed drastically, tell me when was the last time you noticeably heard a koel’s cry announcing the sunrise? The crack of dawn in cities has lost its splendor. Birds, disturbed by the urban noises, make their music short-lived. The popular myna-parrot duets have become tales of the past. One day, perhaps they will stop singing, leaving us amidst loud noises of vehicle engines, blowing horns, screaming loudspeakers, shouting vendors.

Here is an account of my journey through the woods. I happened to travel through the dense forests of Mudumalai (located in Nilgiri District, the western most part of Tamil Nadu in south India) and Bandipur (located in the Chamarajanagar district of southern Karnataka in south India). The Bandipur National park is contiguous with the Mudumalai National park. They are the most famous and thrilling wildlife sanctuaries in south India. These two Reserve forests share the border of south Indian states Karnataka and Tamil Nadu.

We were travelling by a car and the road before us looked like a natural tunnel, formed by many a branch of giant trees which were on either side of the road. It was quite a misty dawn, cloud piled upon cloud and there was slight drizzling. After almost an hour the clouds melted away in air giving way to the bright sunshine. One cloud didn't give up that easily and tried to make its presence felt, as the reason it was still drizzling and the simultaneous occurrence of rain and sunshine lead to the formation of a beautiful rainbow.

The rainbow installed a new life into the birds; they setup their orchestra and started composing a fluorescent song. The notes of the song can be heard till the farthest corner of the woods. Look at the birds, the golden eagle is flying high up in the sun-illuminated sky and looks as majestic as ever, the magpie robin is dressed in black tie and enjoying the dawn, doves are cooing in joy, providing the picture of peace, the woodpecker is pecking the bark of a tree, producing perfect rhythm and beat, cute little sparrows are chattering deep inside the woods and parrots with their red beaks are wandering in the orchards for a bite of the ripened fruit.

All of a sudden, the driver hard-pressed the brakes and our car came to a perfect halt. "What happened?" was the question in everyone’s mind but before we tried to find an answer, oh my goodness, a beautiful peacock was standing right in the middle of the road and was moving slowly to the side with utmost grandeur, we took a snap or two and in an instant the bird bounced away into the woods. Just a close glance at our national bird, filled our hearts with lot of joy.

What about the birds living near the water bodies? What are they doing? The swans are spreading their wings and waiting for the first rays of the sun to touch their delicate feathers, cranes are playing the game of fish, whoever catches the bigger one, is the winner, the ducks are swimming in the cool blue waters of the river and just look at the little kingfisher, he is a specialist in tearing the water-curtain and catching fish, is happy hunting his breakfast. The seagull is sailing on the waves of the wind and occasionally going down in groups to the sea waters in search of fish.

The bird, sculptured in feather and bone, makes us forget the silence of the morning butterflies, by singing songs of nature. With the first flutter of her wings, she illustrated freedom. Let the bird family always have the freedom of wings, never try to prison them in cages. Why to cage them and use them as pets, robbing their freedom of flight and making them cry. Instead, pay attention to the song of the free bird.

Birds spin in the air, yearning to be noticed. If you meticulously observe nature, you get carried away by its beauty. Man is a devotee of nature; he should worship nature with utmost joy and respect.

Alone in the Garden...

One morning, i sat on a bench underneath a tree, in a beautiful garden, all alone…

The Sun is about to rise and the world is waiting for his eternal shine. The sparrows in the nest have just woken and scheduling their journey to the corn fields in the west. The squirrel and its mate started playing with an empty nutshell, the slightest movement that they made obviously showed that they were excited and enjoyed in their surroundings. Suddenly, there was a gentle spray of cool bright water droplets on me, is it raining? No, the southern breeze started blowing and the dew collected all night over the leaves of trees, is showering like a blessing.

This morning is so pleasant that the birds seemed to be rejoiced by the atmosphere and they started giving a full-throated cry of bliss. Every flower is enjoying the air it is breathing. Various birds engaged themselves in fun and frolic. I can hear the frogs croaking tirelessly near the tiny pond, located amidst the beautiful garden. They are happy to view the sparkle made by the early sun rays on the dew collected grass. The musical bees began their work, buzzing around in the bushes and savouring the finest of the nectars from the fully bloomed flowers.

Is it true that I'm all alone in the garden?, no, there is every soul of nature around me and I look upon nature as a source of immense pleasure. God has created a beautiful relationship between the human heart and the lovely objects of nature, man must realize this link. If you enjoy the beauty and freshness provided by nature, you attain spiritual bliss.

Now i left the bench and started walking to a corner of the garden, where i found that the young rose plant is expecting its first flower, since three long days the plant is waiting patiently for the tender bud to grow fully and now the flower is just starting to breath...the angel started playing the softest tune...

Heaven started showering its choicest blessings. The gentle rays of the early sun are touching the delicate petals of the just born flower, giving it sufficient warmth to survive. The young rose plant has just fulfilled its dream and the new-born flower is attracting the attention of every soul in the garden. The rose plant will again wait to watch how quickly its flower starts to bloom and would be proud on the day, when the little flower reaches its richest bloom.

Pray for the happiness of every soul and understand that everything in the universe is destined to work according to Mother Nature's holy plan.

Nilgiris Calling…

Nilgiris….here we come, bruised by the busy and polluted city life. Time to relax for the tired hearts and enjoy the beauty and bliss of nature - blooming of flowers, ripening of fruits, songs of the birds and dance of the squirrels. This atmosphere will surely infuse a new life into the stressed out mind, reminding the precious bond between man and nature. There are many choices; you can seek beauty in meadows or in woodlands or on the mountain tops. The breathtaking view of clouds kissing the hill tops, to pour down the joy of rain, is priceless.

Nilgiris (meaning - the blue mountains) are a range of mountains famous for high altitude hill stations, extensive tea plantations, beautiful lakes surrounded with magnificent gardens, dense forests, scenic views of valleys, sparkling tiny streams and what more can you ask for, everything that nature has to offer is available in the Nilgiris.

The Nilgiris, because of its pleasant climate and natural beauty, is a tourist’s dream. I happened to fulfill that dream this year, in mid-July and here I am, glad to share my experiences… Drink the dew collected on the tender tea leaves; you feel the taste of eternity.

Udhagamandalam (Ooty), called the Queen of hills, is a very popular hill station, located in the Nilgiris, it has gardens with cool green grass on which the tired minds may lie down to relax. Boating in the lakes surrounded by scenery, is such a pleasurable experience one would never like to miss out. The green carpet of tea plants on the hills is sure to develop passion in everyone, for the sensuous beauty of nature.

The scent of flowers blooming, in air we breath, give an everlasting and soothing effect which energizes our lungs. Midst of such beautiful sights and sounds of nature, one can imagine playing in the lap of nature, like a baby with its mother. Interpreting this beauty in spiritual terms, knows no bounds. Spiritual manifestations of nature appeals more than its eternal or physical manifestations. Here, you can realize the God in nature and nature in God.

Travelling in the ‘Nilgiris toy train’, which connects Ooty to Mettupalayam, is an experience of a life time. As the train takes you up the hill and down the valley, through tea estates and tunnels you get numbed by the mesmerizing beauty of nature. The view of tea plantations from the train window, leaves a mark on you, giving you a feeling that the colour green, is at its best ever.

One good visit to "The Majestic Nilgiris" will not only refresh the body and the mind, but also strengthens the soul...

Welcome to Beyond Barriers...

Hearty welcome to "www.beyond-barriers.blogspot.com", a dream to start a blog, is just fulfilled. Through this platform, I'm intending to share all my experiences and random thoughts. I'm delighted to start this blog today, on the occasion of my birthday, shall cherish this for long.

This blog name "Beyond Barriers", is derived from one of my favorite Raga Jazz Fusion Music. Beyond Barriers is a refreshing experience through which flute maestro Hariprasad Chaurasia, keyboard wizard Louis Bank, drums by Shiv Mani, vocal by Shankar Mahadevan and others take the listener, using Raga Yaman, through a breathtaking journey of musical fireworks.

I take this opportunity to express my sincere thanks to my family, all my friends, relatives, well-wishers for their able guidance, support and encouragement.

Beyond Barriers...{Expression of Imagination...} is the language of imagination and passions.

Get ready to shoot your comments, share your ideas and opinions, hang on... my first post is already on its way.