My very first Lohri!!

January 13th, 2013!
Woah!! Look at that,it is two 13s there! ;)

Haha! For everyone who said that today.. I just wanted to share something I realised today, I felt it was important I wrote it down somewhere(later thought, why not share), lest I overlook and forget! It might sound stupid for some,nevertheless that wouldn't stop me from writing it here!

We have so many superstitions, (the 13 thingy I was referring to before), true having an awful day gives every reason to sulk, But doesn't that only mean, this placebo is robbing you of all the opportunities that can kick the day up?! That is old wine! Yeah, it is a universal truth so, I don't have anything new to share there,moving on.

Ohkk ok,Here is what I really wanted to write on,We are so vulnerable and gullible most of the times. We are so full of inhibitions (This stands no exception to the so-called most egalitarian societies of the west). We judge! A lot, and today, I realised that does more harm to us than to the person who is being judged! It is like living in a coffin. Though I can not share the incident that made me realise this, here is what, We end up naming relationships, quantifying them. We always have this preconceived notion that some people 'close' to us can always make us happy. While some people, are always nettlesome. Not at all true.
Well,an hour of Lohri celebrations, pop corn, winter night,bonfire, songs and a few friends, shattered this impression of mine. I had one of the most memorable days, away from home.

Turns out,a truly hearty, selflessly happy person can always make others happy. It is like the sun! It is a radiation,warm and soothing.
People are only what their feelings make them, we never know what their journey is all about,judging them would be robbing ourselves from all the happiness a person can potentially share with us! We might as well make ourselves less gullible.

May be a little less of judgement, can promise a hell lot of happiness. People may not be the same, but then unfeignedly shared happiness has no substitutes. True celebration, is all about sharing,shattering all the inhibitions we brought along with us! We all come in uniquely wonderful, the pursuit might change us,after all.. It is but the 'Difficulty of being Good '

The delicate rhythm of a boatman’s song

His eyes had a glitter of glee and celebration, the bicycle sped past the village temple, the aarthi was going on and devotees were singing the bhajans, usually he would have stopped to have put the tilak on his forehead before he went home, but today all that was echoing in his ears was the rhythm of the boatman’s song. Screeching halt infront of a magnificent household, the 6 year old carefully placed the cycle in the shed,he ran towards the house. He was excited as this was his first time alone in the village on the cycle. He rushed inside, saw his aunt sitting in the verandah, panting and all puffed up started singing the song he heard by the river, it was about the river itself and how it flows, like life.. 


“I went to the river all by myself aunty! All by myself! I am all grown up! I was playing near the mango tree, by the school, the fisherman was singing this song while getting his net ready.”

“Oh, so it is a boatman’s song huh?”


“Yes aunty, he told me all about fishing, casting the net and the baits. Then his children came from the school. We played hide and seek, they bought me an ice-gola. I promised that I ll come to play with them every day.”


“So you played with those kids? Go take bath before you enter the house. They are not good kids. You are never going to play with them again.”


“But aunty! They were very nice to me. We had a lot of fun. I promised them. Why shouldn’t I play with them?”


“They are bad kids. They go to a bad school where they teach everything wrong. You should not touch them and you are not going to play with them. Now stop asking me more questions, go take bath now!”


His eyes fell, excitement drained, he left to take bath, that night when his mom asked him to come to dinner, there was one question gnawing his nous.


“Mummy! Aunty said the boatman’s kids went to a bad school and that everything they say is wrong! But I saw mummy, their teacher, like ours, also told them that 2 plus 5 is 7. Why is it that I should not play with them?”


The only answer he got was a pat on the head and a sigh.. He did not get the answer for years, and after he knew the answer, he never felt a rush of excitement seeing the river. It saddens him that he could never play with those kids again.


But he could never stop admiring the delicate rhythm of the boatman’s song.