The left over is never right!

Be it feelings or food, the left over is never right!

We struggle to forget happenings and endlessly fight,

Over what was over in time gone and long past.

Move on and go ahead for the world is wide and vast!

A bit of sourness in the food is enough to spoil it,

And the same sourness however small, causes a dent,

In relationships cherished and savoured over years,

Carry on, losing not the valuable lessons learnt, sans fears!

A bitter taste your tongue feels each time you eat,

A food that is spoilt much the same way you feel the heat,

Each time you try to set right a sour relationship,

As love of the heart is weaker than the word on the lip!

Leftover food tastes as bitter as the left over feelings,

It is wiser not to look back and brood over past dealings!

Live life afresh as every new day is better than the old,

As it comes with promise which is worth its weight in gold!

Each day arrives with a new promise...

The 'Ironman'

In India, we can hire the services of the ‘isthri’wala or the ‘Iron’ man. His job is to roll press or steam iron the clothes that we give them. Some of the apartments have a complete laundry shop running at the basement.

When I was still at school, the apartment systems were not so popular and I grew up in an independent house. Back then my father had built a garage while constructing the house. But unfortunately (or fortunately, I am unable to assess), he could never own a car. Undeterred by his economic constraints, he gave the space to the ‘Iron’ man of our street.

Initially I found this a hindrance as my play area was occupied by him most of the time. I would, ignoring his presence, lift my head high in the air as I walked past him. I thought that he would understand my protest and as though by magic, vanish from the spot!

That never happened. After a few years, my father sold the house to a flat promoter, to sponsor our higher education. He booked a flat for us and we relocated for a year till the flat was ready.

We moved back into our flat and as per my father’s instructions, the garage, this time was covered and made into a study room.

The ‘Iron’ man settled himself outside the gate.

When I walked past him, I no longer lifted my head as I had grown a little older and probably a little wiser too! If he did not have the garage for his shop, neither did I have the place to play. In fact, I felt sorry for him!

One day I returned from a match, absolutely tired and drained. I was bruised badly on my knee and had lost in the last round of the match. The journey back from the venue was not comfortable either. As I opened the gate to step inside, the ‘Iron’ man called me to tell that my parents had gone out and would only be back in the evening. He handed over the key to my house.

I could not take that as I wanted to share my physical and emotional hurt with my mother. Before I knew what I was doing, I burst into tears.

The ‘Iron’ man, withdrew the key almost instantly. He sat me down and asked me what had happened. I took control of myself. Wiping my eyes, I told him that I was hungry and I will be alright. He walked up to his small mobile cart and took out his lunch box (Those were days when fast food and pizza joints were non-existent).

He gave it to me and asked me to eat. I looked at him in utter disbelief.

He asked me to take half of the food in the lid of the box and leave the other half for him. As I started eating the food, he told me something that changed the way I viewed life.

“Food meant for one person can be shared between two or three people, but the food meant to be consumed by two or three people can never be consumed by one person!”

Life has a strange way of teaching lessons. I have not forgotten to pass on this lesson to my children and always encourage them to share their food and their knowledge with people around.

I realised that knowledge is incomplete when not put to practical use. The great poet Thiruvalluvar, in his book Thirukkural has written thus:

“Paguthundu Pal Uir Oombudal, nooloar

Thoguthavatrul ellam thalai.”

When translated this means that sharing what you have with all life forms around you is the best virtue one can possess!

An uneducated ‘Isthri’wala, taught me how to practice what is considered as the best virtue by the one of the most learned man to have lived on earth!

A person from humble roots can be a storehouse of great wisdom!

The ball that set the feet rolling again!

Vibha was worried and rightly so! Her pre-teenagers, along with their friends, were becoming lazy, tech-addicts and lonely.

One day she found her son hiding the remote behind the sofa cushion, because he did not want to share his T.V. time watching his friend’s favourite show. She tried to convince him but all her logic fell into deaf ears.

“Mama, he does the same when I go to his house!”

Vibha wondered if the kids were growing up right. She realised that to get them outdoors and moving, she would have to get the entire neighbourhood kids on their feet!

Luckily, a new sports academy was set up and a few sports were introduced. Vibha went home with a new basketball.

Her children were eager to begin their basketball coaching at the new sports academy. Vibha initially accompanied them. One by one, all her children’s friends wanted to know about the academy. She spread the word passionately and told parents how playing a sport can help the children in their academics too.

Her efforts paid off and the children from her neighbourhood started playing basketball.

Vibha knew that the children had become fond of basketball, but she did not know that they were absolutely in love with the sport until, one day, the old ball had a burst bladder!

R.I.P., basketball!

What followed by way of posts on the face book pages of these children stunned Vibha!

Her children posted a picture of the disfigured ball and almost instantly, there were about a dozen mourners. Some even wrote comments like, “R.I.P. our favourite ball!”

Vibha was moved and in spite of a tough day at work, she took the children to a sports shop to replace the flattened ball!

The happiness on the face of the children made up for Vibha’s efforts.

The next day when she woke up she saw the old ball sitting pretty, near her bedside. She took the ball in her hand and inspected it. The tear in the bladder was stitched by rough and crooked stitches by her son the previous night.

The crooked stitch gave a new look to the flattened ball...

It was then that Vibha had realised how the old ball had become an integral part of her children’s life!

Gasping Freedom!

Freedom flew up above in the form of birds,

Freedom grazed the green grass as cattle herds.

Freedom touched the expanse of earth as water,

Alas, freedom went to man to make sun hotter!

Freedom gave light to the night sky as moon,

Freedom, by its very nature, is life’s greatest boon.

Freedom gave the wet firmament the coloured hue,

The freedom to build skyscrapers ruined the view!

 

Freedom moistened dry earth as rain showers,

Freedom blossomed on the green plants as flowers!

Freedom stood towering above the land as mountains,

Alas, they stood shortened by man-made fountains!

Freedom made the earth rich in precious metals,

Freedom enriched fragrant flowers with colourful petals!

Freedom filled the forest with green trees and wildlife,

But freedom reached mankind as sword and knife!