My Interaction with the God!!!

It has always been an issue of debate over the centuries, whether prayers really make an impact. I do not intend to hit anyone’s ism over the issue, but yes several times I heard an unknown voice around me. Neither I am a saint nor a satified soul….I am as human as anyone else is. But, still I have realized a never before experience several times in my life, which always strengthened my belief in the existence of that supreme power.

Like any other Hindu, even I believe on a long list of Gods, praying their different incarnations as per my demand. But, Lord Hanuman and Lord Ganesh have always remained my all time favourites. While, I love Hanuman for his innocence and devotion, knowledge is the USP of lord Ganesh for me.

Seeing them in the form of a semi-animal since from my childhood, I never had expected their human appearance. But, one day something superbly strange happened with me. I met a person, whom I had never seen. Interestingly, that person appeared as if he had emerged from the road or just dropped from the heaven itself, coj there was no other way to reach the place I was standing. He knew my nick-name and of course what I did last night. He asked me, why I am looking up-set and that I could achieve anything in my life because “he is with me”. Well, it could be a blowing experience for anyone…meeting someone you never knew who is reading your face like a book at a place sans any creature for miles.

I sped away from there and later asked myself whether ‘can he be the GOD himself’. Well, I do not know!! If GOD could speak English and attire in Tide-white Kurta-Paijama. Also, I never imagined extremely handsome and red-brown haired God. But, then, why that person could not be the god himself? Whatever, but his appearance and experience was extremely soothing for me.

One of my Psychiatric friends used to say that majority of people live in the world of illusions. I don’t know if it was an illusion or the reality. But, I could never overrule the fact that god actually exists and remains with us all the time. Perhaps, this is the reason, why my petty prayers done in my washroom often come true!

Mousetrap

A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package. "What food might this contain?" the mouse wondered. He was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap.

Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning: "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it."

The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The pig sympathized, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers."

The mouse turned to the cow and said, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"

The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose."

So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap alone.

That very night a sound was heard throughout the house -- like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey.

The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught.

The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital, and she returned home with a fever. Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient.

But his wife's sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.

The farmer's wife did not get well; she died. So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them.

The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.

MORAL
So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn't concern you, remember -- when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk.

Everbody Needs Somebody

I want to exist
To be somebody for somebody.
A candle that burns itself to give light
Or a stain on a white paper.
Good or bad
I just want to exist for somebody.
I want to hold hands and walk by somebody
Watch the stars at night with somebody
To really live life with somebody
To live in heart of somebody.
I’m ready to change for somebody
I’m ready to forget me for somebody.
I want to be happy with somebody
Want trust of that somebody.
I don’t know whether I will ever find somebody?
That who’s next to me every night somebody.
Calm me down in my frustrations
Hold on to my needs this somebody.
Is there one like this somebody?
Or am I expecting an impossible somebody?
I wait here open arms for that somebody
Are you waiting like this,somebody?
As a friend, lover,father,husband…..or even enemy
I at least want to be somebody.

Alone or Free?

I was just going through these few lines from the book of Zahir by P Coelho

"How we strive for companionship.To be in touch. How strong the need is to feel wanted. I think that is one quality that separates us from the animal kingdom - to be wanted. To feel that you belong to some one. And yet somewhere why do we scream 'give me my freedom' . I wonder what do we want to free ourselves of. If being single today i have the freedom to do what i want , why am i still alone. Is it because I am just no longer wanted?"

“…., that there is nothing worse than the feeling that no one cares whether we exist or not, that no one is interested in what we say about life, and that the world can go on without our awkward presence.

I began to imagine how many millions of people were, at that moment, feeling utterly useless and very unfortunate – however rich, charming and delightful they might be – because they were alone that night, as they were yesterday and as they might well be tomorrow. Students with no one to go out with, older people sitting in front of the TV as if it were their soul salvation, business men in their hotel rooms, wondering if what they were doing made any sense, women who spent the afternoons carefully applying their makeup and doing their hair in order to go to a bar only to pretend that they aren’t looking for company; all they want is confirmations that they’re still attractive; the men ogle them and chat them up, but the women reject them all disdainfully, because they feel inferior and are afraid that the men will find out they’re single mothers or lowly clerks with nothing to say about what’s going on in the world because they work from dawn to dusk to scrape a living and have no time to read the newspaper. People who look at themselves in the mirror and think themselves ugly, believing that being beautiful is what really matters, and spend their time reading magazines in which everyone is pretty, rich, and famous. Husbands and wives who wish they could talk over supper as they used to, but they are always other things demanding their attention, more important things, and the conversation can always wait for a tomorrow that never comes.

That day I had lunch with a friend who had just got divorced and she said to me: ‘now I can enjoy the freedom I’ve always dreamed of having.’ But that’s a lie. No one wants that kind of freedom: we all want commitment, we all want someone beside us to enjoy the beauties of everything, to discuss books, interviews, films, or even to share a sandwich with because there isn’t enough money to buy one each. Better to eat half a sandwich than a whole one. Better to be interrupted by the man who wants to get straight back home because there’s a big game on TV tonight or by the woman who stops outside a shop window and interrupts what we were saying about, far better that than to have the whole of everything to yourself with all the time and the quiet in the world to visit it.

Better to go hungry than be alone. Because when you are alone – and I’m talking here about an enforced solitude not of our choosing – its as if you were no longer a part of the human race.”

Over Reacting??

Lalitha Krishanan's post is disturbing http://ilivelife.rediffiland.com/scripts/xanadu_diary_view.php?postId=1163329196 - not only because it is yet another tale of a groping adult but also because even now, she seems to feel a helplessness against what happened to her all those years ago. Lalitha, I can only say thank you for bringing about an awareness by sharing such a personal and painful experience - giving us a first hand account. The past is now behind you but there is a future in the form of other children - if you see something wrong please speak up! The key maybe is 'caution' not 'hatred'.

It was close to 11 in the night, a friend and I were standing at the bus stop watching at a man in his mid thirties talking animately to two young girls. The girls - not more than 16 hung on to every word of his, wide eyed and adoring . At first glance it seemed as my friend remarked, 'an uncle baby sitting' It soon however, became very evident, that the hungry gleam in the guys eyes were certainly not very fatherly. A look around and I realized that there were quite a few young girls spending the late hours of their night there. Girls in their teens, expensively dressed and well educated, attempting sophistication with a cigarette between their lips, at ease with men who were not family, indifferent to the hand resting casually on their thigh or draped across their shoulder.

Are parents in a misguided attempt to being 'cool' and 'a good friend' forgetting that it becomes imperative to put their foot down once in a while? Maybe, they don't care, they know no better or have no time... How is it that even educated and upwardly mobile parents don't realize when their child is being exploited?

The scene at the bus stop was disturbing - maybe I am over reacting...