Learning From A Son

The alarm clock danced on the table near the bed,my head buried in the pillow, I took one hand out of the blanket and banged the clock without looking at it.The humming sound of birds that sat on the snow clad branches of the stunted trees lining our street could be heard easily. The ear-splitting sound of the clock made my ten year old son to wake up. I caressed his head gently so that he could sleep a bit more. I covered him with one more blanket so that he could feel the cold to a lesser degree.

I stepped out through the wrought iron gates of the house. The streets glistened with fresh snow and the sky was a blameless blue. Snow blanketed every roof top that showed snow had nudged its way into every crack. I picked up the newspaper lying unclad on the floor near the gate. I prepared the breakfast as my wife was away for some official work. After a while, I could see my son in flannel pajamas moving out of the room rubbing his eyes in half-asleep condition. His arms around me forced my lips to play a smile.

“I want to sleep more,” He said in an adorable voice.

I laid the groundwork to get him ready for the school. He put on his school dress and I tied up his shoe-laces.He sat on the big dining table covered with a checked table cloth, spoon and knife in front of every chair placed around it. Like deserts imploring for rain, his eyes waited for the breakfast. An electric heater was placed under the table to wipe off the cold around him. I poured the searing milk in the glass, bread popped out of the toaster in the dish plate. I served the breakfast swiftly that he ate with a calm and patient look.

“Dad! The breakfast is delightful,” He complemented.

I got preoccupied in the kitchen, washed the dishes while singing a beautiful song.There was a knock at the door, my son left the breakfast and cheered with exhilaration, his finger pointing towards the door.

“He must be the garbage man!”

He sprinted towards the door to open it. I saw a man with a long torn black woolen jacket and white snow over it. A woolen cap over his head ,beard long enough to touch his stomach, a mole on his left cheek and torn apart gloves from where shivering fingers were coming out. A child behind his back was peeping with an innocent look. He came out slowly and smiled at my son, moved his hand to shake it. I grabbed and pushed him aside.

“Wait! I am bringing the garbage here only,” I said in an arrogant voice.

The boy was shivering with excruciating cold, his shoes sole was about to part away. I brought the garbage and gave them.

“Can I get a blanket for my child?”  Man’s voice full of sorrow.

“No,” I shouted in vexation.

My son rushed into the room and brought the blanket that was kept folded on the bed. He gave it to the child and shook the hand with him.

“Why?” I said with an angry look.

“Like I, he will also be feeling cold” my son answered me.

I looked at him with bewildered face and was ashamed of myself very next moment. I shut the door and told my son to consume the left breakfast on the dining table. I dropped him to school and he waved me adieu, I kissed his forehead and thought of transforming like him.

“We should think like children because they just know the language of kindness, love and compassion. So, leave the ego and help those who are in need.”

I Was Somewhere else.

The incidents I experienced latterly changed my life. There were a lot of moments to be cherished. There were unexpected happenings that made me a changed man, made me strong and rethink what world is. All incidents made me to believe that it doesn’t hurt to be nice.

I was in the metro train listening to my favorite playlist, I felt some vibration. It was an email which said,

“Selected In Infosys”

My eyes rolled multiple times on that million dollar line. It was an awesome moment as I was craving for it from a long time. I gave the news to my family which made them cheerful. I thought I had done something meaningful that day.

It was Infosys Mysore. When I passed through the Gate 2 and entered the campus. I felt

“I was somewhere else”

There were no words to explain the marvelous architecture, clean roads, Rules and Regulations, ECC rooms that were no less than a 5 star. I was feeling proud and it would be harsh if I forget that day.

Class L1-067 in GEC-2 will be remembered all my life. The people here were astounding. It was the best class ever in the whole harsh training period. I got a bunch of friends and constant visits to Tonif and GEC-3 made me to love Mysore more every day. The real happiness was about to come. The day came and I shouted

“Hey Friends, I got a niece”

I was near the bowling alley and tears were trickling down my cheeks. I hugged my friends and thanked to God for giving me the most beautiful gift ever. It was the day which made me to cry out of happiness. 

Harsh Training continued from morning to evening, glued to our system screens, studying and understanding the concepts of programming. Hands on Client and Development Square haunted us all day and night. Then we had a trip to Wayanad, scenic place filled with serene beauty which couldn’t be described in words. It was a treat to the eyes. We reached Banasura Sagar Dam where early-afternoon sun sparkled on water and dozens of miniature boats sailed, propelled by crisp breeze. It was a view; nothing could capture better than your eyes. 

I completed my generic which was the first major achievement I conquered. The day was special and we made it to GEC-3 for the success party.

Stream training was going smooth but the tough was yet to come. I got liverish and had to rush back home. Seventeen days on bed which made the training period extend up to twenty days. Many friends left Mysore and there were tears all around. I started feeling deserted. I was drowned by cake all over on my birthday. The celebrations were stunning. When I took a shower, I couldn’t find the place on my body where the cake was not present. 

I was expecting that my training would come to an end but a Re-Skill training was conducted which was scheduled for the period of one month. It was really irritating to live in a place that needs friends to cherish.

I completed my Re-Skill training and was posted to Chandigarh. The last day in Infosys Mysore, there were mixed emotions popping in my heart? I was happy to be posted but didn’t want to leave the campus where I spent six months of exhilaration, hard-work and enjoyment. Nights spent at Fiesta food court and musical fountain in-front of GEC-2. All the memories were gracious enough to grant me a nostalgic tour. I passed the gate no. 2 again but this time on the other side. I felt the same,

“I was somewhere else”

Suffocated Dream

A ray of light peeping through the window of my room and chirping of birds made me to get up and start a new day. It was like an inspiration to do something meaningful. I yawned multiple times before getting up from my bed. It was a bit cold out there. I took my piano keyboard from the cover and started playing a soothing music. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. I hurriedly put it back and stood up to open the door.

“What were you doing?” My father asked suspiciously with an angry look on his face.

“I was about to open my books meant for studying,” I replied with a terror look.

He came into my room and tore apart the posters of famous pianist that hung over the wall. I bought them from the pocket money that I saved over the last three months. He took my piano and smashed it on the floor with a bang.

“Please don’t,” I appealed with tears in my eyes.

After a while, I was sitting on my bed with tore pieces of posters all around me and broken piano in my hand. I was looking at them in such a way like my inspiration had been torn apart. I took out the books from my bag and started studying.

After some time, my phone rang. I picked it up.

“Hey Aakash,” someone said.

“Hi,” I said with suspicion.

I tried to recognize the voice in the mean time and asked hesitantly

“Ravi! Is this you?”

My voice recognition resulted into a positive result and a smile played on my lips. He invited me to a music show that he had organized in the heart of the city. It was a great opportunity to show my passion but I visualized my father in-front of me with an anger look commanding me to study for the exams.

“I can’t come. My father will never allow,” I said with a terrible voice.

I disconnected the phone but the voice of my friend kept echoing in my ears.

“There is a live show in the heart of the city. Come and show your talent”

I packed my piano and left home when my father was not there. I thought that I would be back before my father would be here. I met Ravi who made me to register and I was all ready to show my passion which makes me happy. Audience was there in adequate amount to watch the live show. I was a bit nervous but inspired myself from inside.

“I can do it,” I reiterated to myself.

Soon Ravi signaled me to play the piano. I took a deep breath and started to run my fingers all over it. When the show ended, all were chanting

“Once more! Once more!”

I waved my hand to the audience and thanked them for appreciating my art. Soon there was a knock at the door. I woke up from sleep with books on the bed, broken piano on the floor and tore pieces of posters all around. Soon I realized that it was a dream.

For few days, I studied hard and scored whopping ninety percent in exams. I received the result with no exhilaration.My father was contented with my result.He hugged me,clasped in his arms,my dream got suffocated.

God Is One

 “Morning teacher,” students chorused as soon as I entered the class.

Every student was dressed in proper school uniform and polished shoes. I stood on the podium and smiled at everyone.

"Morning," I replied with a pleased voice.

I instructed everyone to open the book. The noise of turning pages could be heard clearly. All were looking interested to learn something new. I took a marker and wrote on the board.

“God is one”

Some students had a demented look on the face after observing this million dollar line. I could hear some of them whispering to each other.

“Is it so?”

On the other hand, some were looking on the board with a vague smile on their face. I made the students to close their books. I rolled my eyes all over the class and was amazed to see some bewildered faces around. I decided to have a discussion among the students.

“I wanted everyone to share their views on this statement,” I asked enthusiastically.

“The statement is false,” Aakash stood up and said with suspicion.

“It is true,” Rakesh revolted with his hand up in the air.

I smiled and asked Aakash the reason. The reply was so significant that made all class to re-think again. He shared an incident with us.

 He was walking on the street with his father and saw a church on the way. He insisted

“I want to go inside.” His father denied and replied.

“This is not our God. We will go to temple, our God is there”

He insisted for it again but his dad admonished me. There were tears in his eyes and they moved further.

“My father would never tell a lie,” he said this and sat down.

After analyzing the incident, I realized that parents are the first teachers whose teachings children imbibe from the beginning. The thinking should change from the beginning to make people understand that it is just a matter of words either we call god as Jesus, Allah or anything. At the end, they all are the same.

Soon the bell rang, students packed their bags and there was a hush outside the class the very next moment. I got down from the podium and gazed at the line multiple times on the board. I just smiled and went away.

A Heart Shaped Balloon

One frigid over cast day, I was strolling down the roads of a slum with my friend and rain drops were falling on our leather jackets.

“It’s biting cold today,” I said with a shivering voice.

We both traversed through the area watching several ladies selling vegetables on the road side. Poor children wearing torn sweaters were running on the streets with a wide smile on their face. I tried to count the holes in the sweater but my endeavor ended up in vain. I caressed the head of the child who surpassed me. He turned and greeted me with a decent smile.

We moved forward and found a geriatric selling helium balloons on the road side. The heart-shaped balloon seemed more prepossessing than a heart-shaped gold ring in my friend’s hand.

“I want this balloon,” my friend shouted enthusiastically.

“How much for this,” I asked

“Rs 10,” The seller answered in a gruffly voice.

We took the balloon and moved on. I could clearly see the real happiness in her glowing eyes after getting the balloon. She almost forgot the ring in her hand which I gifted a few days back. We just covered few steps and found a kid sitting in the car peeping through the closed window. His eyes were not deviating from the balloon. He cleaned the foggy mirror with his hand to get a clear glance. As soon the car passed us, he started to squall which I could hear.

I put my arm around my friend and we walked through the foggy road with a heart shaped balloon.

“Happiness comes from small things”, I mumbled to myself.

Humanity Has No Boundaries

The weather was good and I was strolling down the busy roads of Connaught place. I saw a destitute child with a dog in the corner of the road. I was having an unopened food packet that I purchased from the store. They both seemed striving from hunger.

The dog was lying down besides the boy. He was gently caressing the dog with his hand. A positive vibe waved through my body after I saw the love and affection between them. I headed towards them and offered my food packet. There was a vague smile on the boy’s face. He tore the food packet and offered it to the dog.

“Hey! You are not hungry?” I asked.

“Yeah! But he is also starving,” He replied with a broad smile.

I was amazed to see the dog picking up the food and returning it to the boy so that he could eat it. I was mesmerized to see the bonding between them which made my eyes wet. I just stood there and smiled.

"Humanity Has No Boundaries"

Never Complain

I was heading back home in the road transport bus after a frustrating day at office. I was grumbling my day and negative thoughts were coming in my mind.

“Why life is so hard?” I mumbled to myself.

Then a boy came and occupied the seat next to me. He was having a guitar bag on his back and was looking very composed and mature. I couldn’t resist asking him

“Hey! Where do you learn music?”

He told me the place that skipped from my mind. Coincidentally, we got down on the same stop and ascended in the same direction.

“Where do you live?” He asked

I answered and asked his age with suspicion. He was merely 14 years old but his maturity and composed look surprised me a bit. He was wearing a wide smile on his face all the time. I asked about his mother, the thought of asking about his mother came from nowhere.

"What does your mother do?"

The reply was so appalling like someone jolted my head with a stick.

“My mother ended her life by jumping on the railway track”

There were tears in my eyes but he smiled and said “Life is full of ups and downs, you never know when wheel of fortune brings you the bad time. So never complain and always wear a smile. This makes us strong.”

The words hit my mind which made me speechless for a moment. After a while, he parted his way   and waved me good bye. I just stared at him and mumbled to myself

“Thanks God for giving me what I have.”