Santa Comes Home!!

SANTA COMES HOME!!

25^th December, 2014; The town of Cochin is busy in celebrating the Christmas with all the vim and vigor. Jingle bells can be heard from the neighborhood and the air everywhere around carries a scent of delicious cakes and meat. But almost secluded from all this fervor is this small house by the church where many missionary sisters clad in their white attire are standing by the bed of an old lady. By the somber looks and tears on the faces of them it appears quite naturally that the old lady is in grievous pain, as if almost breathing her last. She has a wrinkled old face and a small little smile perched on her lips even as her tired eyes are scanning the doorway as though waiting for a Santa Claus to arrive.

25^th December, 1996; It was a cold, chilly Christmas evening in London. An Indian family of a mother, a father and their 2 year old toddler were travelling the city in their car, soaking in the pleasures of a festival for the first time on a foreign soil. The Menon family had arrived a month back in London thanks to a wonderful job at Central Engineering which came knocking Mr.Menon’s way almost serendipitously. 2 months back he had found the advertisement for the offer in Times Of India for which he had applied and had immediately got the call from the employers. It was a big dilemma for Mr. Menon whether to accept the job offer or not since he had his mother alone at home. His dad had just died last year of a cardiac arrest. But then after a lot of contemplation and deliberation he came to a decision that he would accept the job offer and settle in London with his family. He would then make efforts so that he could also get his mother to London. The Menons arrived in London one month back. They were staying with Mr. and Mrs. Patterson in a duplex as paying guests.

As their car was approaching the nearby garden, Mr. Menon realized that the car was going off balance which sent a shiver down his spine. The tyre had probably busted. Mr.Menon quickly pulled on the brakes but the car had already started meandering and was fast losing control. And DASH! It collided on to the tree.

Five minutes later the ambulance arrived. The doctor was quick to find that both the persons, a man and a lady were dead already. He then heared a baby crying from the back seat and was astonished to see a baby alive in a small cradle on the back seat. Through the car details he managed to find that the owner was Mr.Patterson. The policeman called Mr. Patterson at the sight to inquire about the identities of the persons driving his car. He also handed him the baby boy..

25th December,2014, Cochin; And the wait of her eyes seems over. A young man walks out of a car and is about to enter in. He has his student identity card tied to his neck which reads, ‘ALEX PATTERSON, STUDENT at OXFORD UNIVERSITY’.. ‘’He has come!” exclaims the old lady which is followed by a bout of heavy coughing by which time the boy is already near her bed. The boy looks confused at such a sudden exclamation. All the curious eyes of the missionary sisters are staring at him as the old lady grabs his hand and kisses him gently. Alex finds many eyes welling up and is taken aback at this emotional setting.

“Oh! Alex, I couldn’t die without kissing you! Come, hug your grandma!” the lady says with a new found enthusiasm.

Alex appears dumbfounded by this lady who calls herself his grandma. Alex’s mother, Mrs. Patterson had told him that there was a very old friend of hers, a Christian missionary staying in India by the name Sarah Menon whom Alex identifies as a ‘Santa Claus aunty’ for she sends Alex a small replica of Santa Claus every Christmas!! Alex had never met her and he had never been to India so he was very excited about this and had readily agreed to visit his mother’s old friend in India. Mrs. Patterson had also sent a letter with him which she had told him to hand only to Sarah.

“Don’t be surprised my child. Open the letter your mother has sent with you and read it!”

Alex does as he is told.

The letter read,

Dear Alex,

It’s a long kept secret but we believe the time has come when we need to inform you something. I don’t know if Sarah has revealed the entire story but yes, she is right. She is your grandmother. We adopted you when you were just 2 and had lost your mom and dad, Mr. and Mrs. Menon in a fatal car accident. We didn’t have a kid and you were too small to realize that you had lost your parents. You and us, we, both were missing something and so when the opportunity presented itself, I suggested to your grandmother if we could adopt you as our son and she agreed because if you had come to India there would be no one to look after you. In your best interests, Sarah,with a heavy heart agreed to our proposal and decided that you would stay in London with us. Sarah didn’t want to reveal this to you because it would have affected you adversely in your formative years. It was only because she was ill we mutually decided to break this news to you. In a way she has made a sacrifice no grandmother could have ever done. Hug her tight and be proud of her.

Hope you will forgive us for being selfish. But I hope we made good parents.

Come back soon..

With Love,

Mom.

Tears rolled down Alex’s cheek as he folded the letter and tried to keep it back in the enevelope. As he turned the page he found another letter addressed to Sarah. It was written-

Dear Sarah,

Returning you your Santa. Hope we could fulfill the promise.Merry Christmas.

Your friend,

Mrs. Patterson

By the time Alex has read the whole letter, a small replica of Santa Claus is in front of his eyes which his grandma has pulled out from under her pillow. Alex hugs her tightly and weeps...

A DARK winter day..

It was just another usual day. We woke up at 5.30 to the calls of  ''Allah U Akbar!'' from the neighbouring mosque. My husband , Rashid, who works in the army , had to go early for his winter session of military drills. So I wanted to make no delay in preparing his breakfast of omlet and bread for he would get a harangue from his senior if he got late to training.
At 6.30 I bade him goodbye shouting ''KhudaHafeez!''
As I came out to my balcony to see him go, I saw Salma who was up on her terrace to dry her clothes. It was yet only 6.30 and even the sun was not out so I was surprised to see her on terrace so early and inquisitive as I am, I called her out shouting, ''Salma, why are drying your clothes so early!?''
She told me with a bit of sadness that her son, Salman was ill and she had to take him to the doctor as early as possible. She had always prided on her son's school attendance record. Last year she had served the entire society with sweets after her son had received 100% attendance record in his class 4. I was so envious of her that day that I had almost decided to make sure that Rahim would also get a similar certificate this time. Just then i remembered I had forgotten to wake Rahim up. It was getting late and the school bus would be there in a matter of just an hour. ''Rahim, wake up my boy!', I shouted from the balcony and ran towarde his room only to see him rolled up in his blanket in a deep slumber even as a ray of sunshine which had just emerged from the distant horizon was kissing his beautiful rosy cheeks. He was the apple of my eye and I would've loved to let him sleep some more and behold the sight. But I had to wake him up. He just had to get that 100% attendance certificate. So I shook him a little and then a bit violently until he was wide awake. He was an obedient boy, unlike many others in the society , who hated going to school. He got up, rubbed his eyes as I gave him a long, lingering kiss on his rosy cheeks. His 10th birthday was just 2 days away and me and my husband had bought  him a new bicycle. But my husband had wanted to keep it as a surprise and so he had kept the bicycle in our garage,  away from Rahim's curious eyes. So for the next 2 days at least he would have to use the services of his schoolbus to commute. I was so desperately waiting to see Rahim race down the street on his bicycle that I made sure to keep my husband reminded about it every day. I served Rahim his breakfast, and got his schoolbag ready.
Like our routine , I asked Rahim to say his prayers before leaving. Prayer, its a small word,  spoken in a 1000 different languages and yet it's meant for the same thing all around the world. It's just that we consider it a religious activity, which, it is not.. It's just a spiritual,  humanistic ritual asking the almighty to keep everyone hale and hearty..
By the time Rahim completed his prayers, the bus was already waiting for him and he quickly rushed down the street as I waved him goodbye from our balcony only to see him disappearing fast from my sight..
Today is his birthday.
But the bicycle still sits there in the garage, waiting for someone to ride it.. I wish I had not been so obsessed about the 100% attendance certificate and had just let him sleep that day. He would've been still awake.

Reshma,
18th December,
Peshawar.

A DARK winter day..

It was just another usual day. We woke up at 5.30 to the calls of  ''Allah U Akbar!'' from the neighbouring mosque. My husband , Rashid, who works in the army , had to go early for his winter session of military drills. So I wanted to make no delay in preparing his breakfast of omlet and bread for he would get a harangue from his senior if he got late to training.
At 6.30 I bade him goodbye shouting ''KhudaHafeez!''
As I came out to my balcony to see him go, I saw Salma who was up on her terrace to dry her clothes. It was yet only 6.30 and even the sun was not out so I was surprised to see her on terrace so early and inquisitive as I am, I called her out shouting, ''Salma, why are drying your clothes so early!?''
She told me with a bit of sadness that her son, Salman was ill and she had to take him to the doctor as early as possible. She had always prided on her son's school attendance record. Last year she had served the entire society with sweets after her son had received 100% attendance record in his class 4. I was so envious of her that day that I had almost decided to make sure that Rahim would also get a similar certificate this time. Just then i remembered I had forgotten to wake Rahim up. It was getting late and the school bus would be there in a matter of just an hour. ''Rahim, wake up my boy!', I shouted from the balcony and ran towarde his room only to see him rolled up in his blanket in a deep slumber even as a ray of sunshine which had just emerged from the distant horizon was kissing his beautiful rosy cheeks. He was the apple of my eye and I would've loved to let him sleep some more and behold the sight. But I had to wake him up. He just had to get that 100% attendance certificate. So I shook him a little and then a bit violently until he was wide awake. He was an obedient boy, unlike many others in the society , who hated going to school. He got up, rubbed his eyes as I gave him a long, lingering kiss on his rosy cheeks. His 10th birthday was just 2 days away and me and my husband had bought  him a new bicycle. But my husband had wanted to keep it as a surprise and so he had kept the bicycle in our garage,  away from Rahim's curious eyes. So for the next 2 days at least he would have to use the services of his schoolbus to commute. I was so desperately waiting to see Rahim race down the street on his bicycle that I made sure to keep my husband reminded about it every day. I served Rahim his breakfast, and got his schoolbag ready.
Like our routine , I asked Rahim to say his prayers before leaving. Prayer, its a small word,  spoken in a 1000 different languages and yet it's meant for the same thing all around the world. It's just that we consider it a religious activity, which, it is not.. It's just a spiritual,  humanistic ritual asking the almighty to keep everyone hale and hearty..
By the time Rahim completed his prayers, the bus was already waiting for him and he quickly rushed down the street as I waved him goodbye from our balcony only to see him disappearing fast from my sight..
Today is his birthday.
But the bicycle still sits there in the garage, waiting for someone to ride it.. I wish I had not been so obsessed about the 100% attendance certificate and had just let him sleep that day. He would've been still awake.

Reshma,
18th December,
Peshawar.

A DARK winter day..

It was just another usual day. We woke up at 5.30 to the calls of  ''Allah U Akbar!'' from the neighbouring mosque. My husband , Rashid, who works in the army , had to go early for his winter session of military drills. So I wanted to make no delay in preparing his breakfast of omlet and bread for he would get a harangue from his senior if he got late to training.
At 6.30 I bade him goodbye shouting ''KhudaHafeez!''
As I came out to my balcony to see him go, I saw Salma who was up on her terrace to dry her clothes. It was yet only 6.30 and even the sun was not out so I was surprised to see her on terrace so early and inquisitive as I am, I called her out shouting, ''Salma, why are drying your clothes so early!?''
She told me with a bit of sadness that her son, Salman was ill and she had to take him to the doctor as early as possible. She had always prided on her son's school attendance record. Last year she had served the entire society with sweets after her son had received 100% attendance record in his class 4. I was so envious of her that day that I had almost decided to make sure that Rahim would also get a similar certificate this time. Just then i remembered I had forgotten to wake Rahim up. It was getting late and the school bus would be there in a matter of just an hour. ''Rahim, wake up my boy!', I shouted from the balcony and ran towarde his room only to see him rolled up in his blanket in a deep slumber even as a ray of sunshine which had just emerged from the distant horizon was kissing his beautiful rosy cheeks. He was the apple of my eye and I would've loved to let him sleep some more and behold the sight. But I had to wake him up. He just had to get that 100% attendance certificate. So I shook him a little and then a bit violently until he was wide awake. He was an obedient boy, unlike many others in the society , who hated going to school. He got up, rubbed his eyes as I gave him a long, lingering kiss on his rosy cheeks. His 10th birthday was just 2 days away and me and my husband had bought  him a new bicycle. But my husband had wanted to keep it as a surprise and so he had kept the bicycle in our garage,  away from Rahim's curious eyes. So for the next 2 days at least he would have to use the services of his schoolbus to commute. I was so desperately waiting to see Rahim race down the street on his bicycle that I made sure to keep my husband reminded about it every day. I served Rahim his breakfast, and got his schoolbag ready.
Like our routine , I asked Rahim to say his prayers before leaving. Prayer, its a small word,  spoken in a 1000 different languages and yet it's meant for the same thing all around the world. It's just that we consider it a religious activity, which, it is not.. It's just a spiritual,  humanistic ritual asking the almighty to keep everyone hale and hearty..
By the time Rahim completed his prayers, the bus was already waiting for him and he quickly rushed down the street as I waved him goodbye from our balcony only to see him disappearing fast from my sight..
Today is his birthday.
But the bicycle still sits there in the garage, waiting for someone to ride it.. I wish I had not been so obsessed about the 100% attendance certificate and had just let him sleep that day. He would've been still awake.

Reshma,
18th December,
Peshawar.

YUVI- The forgotton Hero!?

YUVI- THE FORGOTTEN HERO!?

In the by lanes of Chandigadh,

A story unlike any other was being written.

Emerged a southpaw out there to mesmerize the viewer

Diving like a tiger to the ball that wasn’t even near

At Lords’ when the victory wasn’t even in sight,

He produced a miracle with an unmatched might!

At Durban, he was a BATman on a mission to kill

With a gorgeous swooping motion, he decided to thrill

And as he decided to bend his back knee

The fans knew it was a 6 to all their glee..

For me, an Indian smacking an Englishman was pure vengeance,

For opponents, he was always the disturbance!!

A character on field and a dude off it,

Advertising world had found a new style icon!

But then the form dipped

Injuries took a toll

Controversies and attitude was questioned

And brought forth a YUVI we hadn’t known!

From a star he was now considered a liability

But nothing could take away his ability!!

Came the hour and came the man..

When it mattered, he mattered the most!!

At Motera against the Aussies, he batted for his life!

At Mohali when his bat was mute

His bowling played a captivating flute

To lull the Pakistanis out!

At Wankhede, he brought us tears!

As the nation of a billion rose up for Cheers!!

Little did we know then that his body was a home to a tumor?

Oh yes, he eventually did recover!!

For he was a warrior wanting to fight!!

But the magic was missing

Against Sri Lanka in the T20 worldcup finals he was made the villain

And a Champion was forgotten!!

And as the 'HELICOPTORS' of politics started to hover,

He too knew it quite well that his chances for selection were fewer

And yes, they dropped him from the team,

But couldn’t from our memories which we shall cherish as a sweet dream..

Lion shouldn’t die a silent death

So don’t be surprised if he decides to roar his way back!!  

A REASON TO BREATHE...

A REASON TO BREATHE

A young man exited out of a hospital on a wheelchair, a bandage wrapped around his leg which had got severed while trying to defend his motherland. Alas! He not only lost his leg but also the battle. A small village which was the mining hub of the country had been captured by the militants from the neighboring enemy nation.

The soldiers who had lost their lives fighting bravely had achieved a rare martyrdom and were now being honored posthumously. He remembers of a time two months ago when he was home on his official leave, serving his ailing mother who had been diagnosed with a terminal ovarian cancer when a telephone bell rang aloud summoning him to his regiment as the news of the insurgency had been reported. Like any other soldier, he too decided to put his nation before family, despite knowing there was nobody at home to look after his ailing mother, his dad having died of a cardiac arrest three years ago. When he reached his regiment, he got the sad news of his mother’s demise but he couldn’t go back home, not even for the final rites which were then performed by their neighbors while he was busy preparing to fight against the nation’s own neighbors.

The war began in a few days’ time and lasted for a month. The army tried out of their skin to resist the powerful militant attack but couldn’t save that small village. The enemy neighbors had now cruelly and brutally engulfed one the most industrially potent village of the nation.

Thanks to his good fortunes that he had survived only with a severed leg while his friends and enemies fell dead in bloodshed like leaves falling off the tree on a dark, early winter evening.

Here he was now, being escorted by a nurse on a wheelchair, being driven out of the same hospital where his ailing  mother  had lost a battle too, against cancer , while he was away protecting his motherland!

He anticipated that his countrymen would still be in shock of the lost war. But as he got across to the street opposite the hospital, he saw a group of people, possibly college students, laughing and giggling, celebrating a friend’s birthday! He was shocked and amused at this scene which he had hardly hoped to witness!

He felt sad for his condition, for what he had made of himself, for what he had lost, for what he was never going to get back!

He then wheeled past a garden where he saw an old man having his evening walk, a pair of lovers sharing an ice-cream on the bench across the milk-bar and the surroundings appeared to him as though nothing had happened, that the whole world was still the same, the same blue skies and the green grass, the same sunlight filtering through the trees, the same breeze rustling through the leaves!

He realized this was how the world functioned, that there was a tinge of sadness in everyone’s life, the gloom and despair which was so omnipresent yet not distinctly evident! Perhaps that old man might have had a tiff with his son and daughter-in-law and decided to come to the garden for a relief. Perhaps that girl had failed in her university exams and her lover was trying to console her with an ice cream!

Whatever the reason, he was happily amused to realize how quickly everyone had found a reason to exist, to survive, to tide over the adversities and begin breathing again!

What was lost was never going to come back, but there was no point in sleeping under the same blanket of despair when one had the choice to throw it aside and let the sunshine kiss the wounds which time had gifted! For he knew that when there was sun shining in one corner of the world, there must be snow in some other corner; that though the wounded might be mourning for the dead, there must be millions celebrating the birth of a new-born too!!

The world moved on and he hoped his life would move on too! He wheeled across the main road to his lonely home, determined to find a reason to breathe in this crowded world....

THE REINDEER V/S THE MUSK DEER

 "Butterflies can't see their wings. They can't see how truly beautiful they are, but everyone else can. People are like that as well!" - ANONYMOUS


As a kid, I was always fascinated by 2 amazing fables, each involving a different breed of DEER.

The REINDEER, with its long curvy horns was so proud of them that this obsession almost crossed narcissistic heights. But we know how the end came! Its horns got entangled in the low lying branches while trying to escape a hunter chasing it which ultimately led to its grim death! The slender legs which it had found embarrassing and worthless were the ones which had helped it run that far until its horns, the prized possession, led to its downfall and death!

The other story involves a MUSK DEER who kept running around vainly in search of the fragrance which was actually emanating from its own body!! The MUSK DEER dies without ever deciphering the mysterious place that gave off the fragrance- its own body!!

We too are either REINDEER or MUSK DEER in our lives! Either we give too much importance to the things we possess which are actually not valuable or like a MUSK DEER we are unable to find the real assets and qualities and keep searching vainly and wantonly while it actually lies within us, waiting, begging, imploring us to bring it out to on our 'talent list!'

Let us be a smart MUSK DEER and realize our strengths and once we find them let us refrain from becoming a REINDEER!!

And remember,"LIKE IN THE CASE OF REINDEER'S HORNS V/S LEGS, GOOD THINGS, GOOD PEOPLE MAY NOT APPEAR TO BE BEWITCHINGLY BEAUTIFUL ON THE OUTSIDE AS THE REAL BEAUTY, LIKE THE FRAGRANCE OF THE MUSK DEER LIES WITHIN!"

THANKS FOR READING!!
Do share if you like!!

"ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?"

ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?

Sometimes I want life to be a pencil so that bad memories could be erased! Sometimes I want it to be smooth flowing Gel pen! But life indeed is a question paper where only ball pens are allowed!! No erasers, and only rarely gel pens!!

In this hustling bustling, tech-savvy and a fast paced world, there are times when you are not living but actually surviving or rather passing each day as it comes! And life seems a tepid affair and our clairvoyance says- ‘The grass is greener on the other side!’ What this other side implies is our destination after life. For Ramesh, the other side means ‘swarga vaatika’; for Imran it means ‘Jannat’ and for Joseph it means ‘Heaven’!

But even after accepting the fact that we’re born to die, does it mean- ‘We shouldn’t live?’ Ask a terminally ill cancer patient about to die, the value of 1 day or even 1 hour! And ‘PRECIOUS’ is what he would tell you! Malady is detrimental but for him it turned out to be an eye-opener! In 25 years of his life, he hadn’t seen the real world since it was all smoky! His eyes had failed to marvel at the sight of sun-rise and dew drops; his ears had failed to catch the melodious voice of cuckoo chirping in those distant mango orchards! His hands were oblivious of the delicacy of the flowers and butterflies; his heart, unaware of the word called- Empathy!!

It was only 3 months back that he was diagnosed with a terminal last stage lung cancer! The chemotherapy having failed, he was forced to swallow the bitter pill-Death, which was approaching insidiously but inevitably! He died today morning, a somber death but in his valedictory, in his diary, he wrote-

“For the last 90 days, 2160 hours and each of the 12960 minutes to be precise, I was actually breathing, actually seeing, actually living and finally realizing what ‘LIFE’ actually was! I might die any moment but thank you Cancer for making me realize the value of each priceless breath!”

Friends, the question really is do we need to get afflicted by a malady to understand the melody of life? Do we need Death to make us realize the value of each precious moment?

It’s upon us to decide whether we want to LIVE or merely sleep our existence to death?

THE WARRIOR OF LIGHT

'THE WARRIOR OF LIGHT'

                                           

"On a fateful night when he set on,

He was his own;

All Alone!!

The nightmares were aplenty;

The resources always so scanty!

The victory was nowhere in sight'

Still he set along with all his might!

Ready to tackle the enemy soldiers!

Ready to climb mountains and boulders!!

For all the world had taught him was- to fight!

For he was - THE WARRIOR OF LIGHT!!

Challenging all the wounds, scars and tears,

Defeating all the arrows, swords and spears;

With his GRIT he slew all his fears!

And yes, there was of course a struggle!

But never once did he buckle!

For him the trouble was just a short-lived bubble!!

Through a dark tunnel leads a way to enlightenment!

The path to victory was never without a torment!!

For those who are ready to challenge their FATE

Befriend the word called - THREAT!!

And so the warrior rode on...

Ready to fight another battle

With a resolve stronger than the hardest metal!!

He was his own;

All Alone."

So what happened to the warrior? What was his FATE?

              But first of all, who was HE?

           "YOU, ME and WE ALL."

Yes, in a sense we all are 'THE WARRIORS OF LIGHT'. We have dreams and we have a purpose. and yes we have a HOPE; hope that we will one day find the LIGHT- the purpose of our life!

But in this journey and on this path to enlightenment 'WE ARE ALL WE HAVE'!!

There is nobody who can listen to your 'inner-calling', but you!!

"Destiny is not an excuse for failure!

Believe and the world is yours!"

-M.S.DHONI

"The Secret of life is to fall 7 times and get up 8 times!"

-PAULO COELHO (in 'THE ALCHEMIST'