Devotion (Story)

(A story my grandmother, Smt. Rani Gupta had narrated to me.)

Once upon a time, an old woman lived all alone in a hut close to the edge of the forest. She used to collect food and firewood from the forest and spend most of her time taking care of a small idol of God just like a mother takes care of her child.
One stormy evening, the old woman had a visitor, a priest, from the neighboring village. who was on his way to the town to visit his relatives. He approached the old woman and asked her if he could spend the night in her hut's verandah and leave for the town once the stormy weather was cleared. The old woman welcomed him to her hut and offered him food and bed for the night's rest. While he retired to the bed laid out in the verandah's corner he saw the old woman take food to God's idol place in a corner of the hut and feed it the way a mother feeds her child.
The following morning when the priest woke up and looked inside the hut to thank the old woman, he found her busy bathing and feeding God's idol and treating it like a child. The priest cleared his throat to attract the old woman's attention. On hearing the priest's voice, the old woman turned around to wish him and asked him if he would like to have breakfast with her before he could leave for the town. The priest agreed and sat down to have breakfast with her.
During breakfast, the priest told the old woman she was not worshiping God the right way. He then taught her a few mantras she had to chant and all that she had to do while offering prayers to God. He then thanked the old woman and headed towards the town.
After completing his religious engagements at the town the priest returned to his home and resumed attending to the religious duties.
One night, the priest had a dream, he dreamed that the old woman's idol of God was weeping like a child and told him, 'I have lost my mother because of you! She does not love me anymore. She is always busy chanting mantras she does not understand, therefore. my mother and I are really sad. Please go and tell my mother to take care of me the way she used to take care of me. She used to speak her heart and mind to me. she would sing songs and lullaby to me. I was her child and you made me her revered God.  She now fears me and mindfully practices all religious procedures and formalities you taught her to doggedly follow. I miss my mother's love and care and how she used to speak out her worries and happiness while attending to her child. You have forced me to become her revered God"
When the priest woke up in the morning, he immediately visited the old woman's hut and found her seated all alone in the verandah looking lost and sad. The priest approached her and offered his salutations... He then narrated his dream to her and asked her to worship God the way she used to, just like her child. The old woman, who was listening carefully to what the priest had to say, was very happy. She said that God had visited her too in her dream and asked her too to take care of him like her child.
The priest thanked the woman and returned to the village temple.

I enjoyed this bedtime story whenever my Nani(Maternal Grandmother) would narrate it.
Now when I contextually refer to this story along with our Indian Philosophy "Visitor or Guest is like God." I wonder about all the official paraphernalia spending of tax money (the public exchequer) on the so-called state visits when any Head, be it the President, Vice President, Prime Minister, Defense Heads or Business Heads visits any place within the country or any other country. It is an ironic-paradox, the elected/non-elected political, who represent the public need to spend an astronomical of tax-payers' money on their safety. If the public they represent is a threat to them, then we should question the efficacy of the spirit of democracy and republican democracy.
You may generously "comment" your interpretation of the story I had heard from my Grandmaa.

The Child in Us

The child in us makes us curious to know

About anything strange it finds.

The child in us loves life full of adventure;

taking failures in its stride.

The child in us has a loving heart, until it’s filled with envy and strife. 

The child in us allows our heart to well up and cry.

The child in us learns the meaning of stealing and claiming-

 With the two words: ‘yours’ and ‘mine’;
Until it realises inherent spirit of
"liberty", "integrity" and "responsibility"
the very basis of "our" life -
How life of every individual, every element
Integral to our world's("creation's") harmony or otherwise.

When the truth hurts the happiness of the child in us, it begins to lie.

The child in us revels in innocence until it learns to judge:
with punishment and reward
for the "wrong" from the the "right".

The child in us loves unconditionally-

 until it’s challenged to set limits on its rights.

The child in us revels and acknowledges nature’s creations-

 until it learns to feed its lust and greed to "thrive".

The child in us is humanity until it is taught-

 to believe in gender, creed, religious, regional and political divide.

The child in us makes us angry with the ability to find out why.

The child in us has an ego that grows when fed on fear.

When the child in us identifies itself
through comparison causing anger, resentment;

that invariably makes it believe in “Might is Right”!

The child us is lost when thrown in the arena of competition to be successful or die.

The child in us reaches out to a sulking and hurt friend with good cheer of life.

The child in us fears the fear, yet challenges itself to overcome the fright.

The child in us enjoys limitless flights of fancy, until-

It sets limits to its imaginative mind.

The child in us takes up any challenge-

For the happiness of all them who are in its life.

The child in us is our hope and love for our life.

So, the child in us will live in us, as long as we are alive.

Image Source: https://matadornetwork.com/read/parents-guide-kids-burning-man/

SIGNATURE

I began my career as a school teacher. After a brief stint of an academic year as a teacher with the school, the school authorities recommended me as a computer instructor and project coordinator to the computer education company they had assigned the turn-key project of setting up a computer education center for the school. I used to enjoy reading about computer science and methods of learning to make the lessons and the learning process interactive and interesting for the students, and above all, for myself. During my tenure with the computer education company and their client schools I often was urged to do B.Ed. to become a qualified teacher. I somehow did not prefer the option because, I had seen many of my colleagues, who were qualified teachers, quite well versed in the learning methods and principles, did not apply any of them in their teaching activity and preferred lecture mode of teaching. Please excuse me, it is not a general statement, I am merely sharing my observation with you as an unqualified member of the teaching fraternity. Currently, I am not associated with any educational institutions to be aware of the current teaching methods the teachers are using in the classrooms.  

I was a college student when I had visited a few European countries with my parents. Fascinated by the well organized and developed life in those countries fueled my aspiration to study, work and settle down abroad. I belong to the generation that decided on their career based on the profession that was in fad or ease of employment, rather than based on their talent and capabilities. The fad of professional studies like MBA was the factor that influenced my decision to pursue MBA studies abroad. Above all, my mother wanted me to pursue MBA studies abroad. So, after completing my work in school, office and at home, I used to spend the remaining time in preparing for the TOEFL and GMAT exams. After my success in TOEFL, I made a few futile attempts to clear GMAT. I focused more on my failure in GMAT exams rather than on the reason for it. I ignored the fact I had not understood my likes and my inherent potential before I chose to study MBA overseas. This eroded my self-confidence and made me withdrew in my shell. 
My maternal grandmother Smt. Rani Gupta could sense my grief. She asked me to get a pencil. a pen, and a notebook and teach her to write in Hindi. She told me when she was a little girl, her brother used to go to school, while she had to stay at home. When her brother used to return from school, she used to ask him to teach her all the lessons he had to learn for the day. That is how she had learned to read Urdu and Hindi. Now, she wanted me to teach her to write in Hindi. Her enthusiasm motivated me to heed to her request and I began teaching my grandmother to write in Hindi. Within a few months, she was able to write in Hindi and proved to be an excellent learner and teacher too, for, she helped me regain my self confidence.

On a weekend, when I was at home, my grandmother asked me to go to the post office, that was just a stone’s throw from our house and get two application forms to open two savings account. When I got the two application forms, she filled an application form in Hindi. She smiled when she completed filling the form with her signature at the end of it and said, "I always wanted to fill my details and sign on an official document and my granddaughter has helped me in realizing my dream!" She then asked me to fill another one for my savings account. After my work at school, I used to teach computer application to the C.A. Inter-level students for a monthly fee of rupees three hundred per student. This may appear out of the context, but it is pertinent to mention that in 1995/96, The Institute of Chartered Accountants of India introduced computer studies (computer application) in its CA Intermediate syllabus. The computer application curriculum focused more on the theory (awareness of computer concepts) rather than focus on how to use the computer as a tool in accounting activities. I used to give my salary and the coaching fee earnings to my grandmother as my contribution to take care of the household expenses. She had saved three hundred rupees from the money I used to give her every month. She gave it to me and asked me to divide it into two equal halves and use it to open the two savings accounts at the post office.

I am really happy for all my friends, relations, colleagues, above all,  teacher-learners, who have successfully realized their dreams, wishes, aspirations without losing confidence in their ability to fulfill their dreams and aspirations. I always think and feel, I have fulfilled my wish and realized my dream through them.

The Tree (Story)

“Oh no not again!” exclaimed Nagamma. It was her daily ritual to look at the old banyan tree in the courtyard of the village’s primary health center and mutter under her breath, “Look at your heap of rubbish on the ground!  I have to spend the entire day to clean all this!” Wielding a broom stick she would wrap her saree’s pallu around her waist and would begin sweeping the dry leaves of the banyan tree strewn in the courtyard. 

Nagamma, a young widow from the village, was hired by the doctor on duty at the primary health center to clean the courtyard. There was an old banyan tree in the courtyard with few cement benches beneath the tree for the patients and their companions. Each morning, Nagamma would open the gates of the primary health center to clean the courtyard and the garbage bins.

When one of the visitors to the center found Nagamma grumbling about the leaves shed by the tree, chuckled and suggested, “Sister, why don’t you ask the doctor to tie a net around the branches of the tree to stop the leaves from falling on the ground.” Nagamma grimaced and continued with her work.

It was a cold winter morning, when Nagamma reached the center’s gate, she found the doctor waiting for her. He greeted her and said, “Nagamma, your service is needed for fifteen days because we have decided to cut down the banyan tree and construct an extension of the center in the courtyard. Don’t worry we will pay you for the fifteen days that you will work here at the center.”….