doksaab.in

Category: My Reveries

  • लव मैरिज

    लव मैरिज

    “डॉकसाब देखिए हमारे बच्चे को क्या हो गया है, ठीक से साँस नहीं ले पा रहा है। कुछ करिए डॉकसाब।
    जल्दी।”
    घबराए से एक बुजुर्ग एक माह का बच्चा गोद में लिए दूसरे मरीजों को धकियाते हुए अंदर घुस आए।
    उनके पीछे पीछे एक सहमी हुई सी महिला भी थी, ज़री की साड़ी, हाथों में चूड़ियाँ, माँग में सुर्ख़ लाल सिंदूर।
    शायद बच्चे की माँ थी । बच्चा खाँस रहा था और साँस लेने में आवाज़ें निकाल रहा था। मैंने तुरंत उसे
    अपनी मेज़ पर लिटाया और आला लगा कर चेक करने लगा। बच्चा सीरियस नहीं था। सिर्फ़ नाक में झाग
    जैसा फंसा था । मैंने तुरंत सक्शन से नाक साफ़ किया और बच्चे को उसकी माँ को पकड़ा दिया।
    “साबुन चला गया था नाक में। नहला रही थी क्या?” मैंने पूछा।
    “जी” उसने दबी आवाज़ में कहा।
    “आगे से ध्यान रखना नहलाते समय। बच्चे की दादी नहीं है घर पर? उनसे कहो ना, वो मदद किया करें
    मालिश-नहलाने में”
    “नहीं, वो साथ नहीं हैं, हम अकेले ही रहते हैं” दादा जी बीच में बोले।
    “ओह, तो फिर कोई दाई रख लीजिए। इतनी कम उम्र में अकेले बच्चा संभालना मुश्किल होता है” मैंने माँ
    की ओर इशारा करते हुए कहा ।
    “और इससे कहिये थोड़ा सावधानी बरतें, बच्चा एकदम ठीक है, कोई दवा देने की ज़रूरत नहीं है, घर ले जा
    सकते हैं । वैसे नाम क्या है बेबी का ?”
    “कबीर” बुजुर्ग जो शायद बच्चे के दादाजी थे, हाथ में फ़ीस थमाते हुए बोले।
    उस दिन के बाद से दादाजी कबीर को लेकर अक्सर ही आने लगे। साथ में हर बार कबीर की माँ। वैसे ही
    पूरे मेकअप में।
    “देखिए हमारे बाबू को बुखार है”
    “डॉकसाब, हमारे बच्चे का पेट ख़राब है”
    “हमारा बच्चा बोलना कब शुरू करेगा?”
    “हम लोग इसे ऊपर का दूध कब से दे सकते है?”
    दादाजी हमेशा कबीर को सीने से लगाये रखते। क्या पिलाना है, कैसे नहलाना है, टीके कब कब लगेंगे
    बच्चा पालने के ऐसे कितने सवाल उनके पास होते। कबीर को मेरे पास आते शायद चार पाँच महीने हो
    गए थे पर मैंने आज तक उसके पिता को नहीं देखा। दादाजी के साथ हमेशा उसकी माँ ही आती थी। पर
    मुझे इससे क्या। हो सकता है किसी दूसरे शहर में काम करता होगा। जब छुट्टी मिलेगी तो आयेगा।

    एक दिन अखबार पढ़ रहा था कि अचानक एक जानी पहचानी शक्ल पर नज़र पड़ी। कबीर के दादा जी
    की तस्वीर शोक संवेदना वाले कॉलम में छपी थी। -“सीआरडीआई के रिटायर्ड साइंटिस्ट प्रोफेसर सक्सेना
    की अड़सठ वर्ष की आयु में हार्ट अटैक से मृत्यु”। शोक संतप्त परिवार की सूची में एक पत्नी, दो पुत्र-
    पुत्रवधू , एक बेटी और कुछ नाती पोतों के नाम दिए थे। कबीर को गोद में लिए हुए उनकी छवि मेरी
    आँखों के आगे कौंध गई। थोड़ा दुख हुआ ये खबर पढ़ कर। कितना ख्याल रखते थे अपने पोते का।

    उस दिन मैं क्लिनिक बंद ही कर रहा था कि कबीर को गोद में लिए उसकी माँ अंदर आई। अकेली।
    “डॉकसाब कबीर को सुबह से बहुत तेज बुखार है। डोलो दिया था और ठंडी पट्टी भी रखी पर कम नहीं
    पड़ रहा”
    “परेशान मत होइए, इधर बैठिए, अभी देखते हैं”
    वो कबीर को गोद में लिए हुए स्टूल पर बैठ गई तब मेरा ध्यान उसपर गया। सफेद साड़ी । कोई
    मेकअप नहीं। एक हाथ में एक सोने की चूड़ी। चेहरे से जैसे रौनक गायब थी।
    “प्रोफेसर साहब का सुन कर बहुत अफसोस हुआ” मैंने कबीर का बुखार चेक करते हुए कहा, “उस दिन
    अखबार में देखा। मैं नहीं जनता था वो साइंटिस्ट थे”
    बुखार 103 के ऊपर था।
    “आपके पति नहीं आए साथ में। कबीर को इतना बुखार है उन्हे आना चाहिए था”
    “प्रोफेसर साहब मेरे पति थे”
    मैं चौंक गया। “ पर वो अखबार में तो उनकी पत्नी और बच्चों के बारे में ….”
    “वो उनकी पहली पत्नी हैं, हमारी लव मैरिज हुई थी । वो मेरे थीसिस गाइड थे। शादी के बाद सबने उनसे
    संबंध तोड़ दिया था तो वो मेरे ही साथ रहते थे”
    “दवा दीजिए, दो दिन बाद फिर दिखा दीजिएगा । वायरल फीवर है ठीक हो जाएगा” मैंने पर्चा पकड़ते हुए
    बोला।

  • On why Santa did not come to my house.

     

     

    Santa did not come to my house this Christmas. Why would he, my daughter didn’t hang her socks this time. For the past so many years she had hung her best socks in the terrace on Christmas Eve.

    It all started when my six year old daughter’s teacher told her about Santa and his sledge.  “Papa, does Santa really come to our homes at night and distribute gifts,” she had asked innocently. “Yes beta”, I had told her. “So If I hang my socks on the terrace, will he fill it with chocolates”.  She was still doubtful. “Yes, if you have faith in Santa, he will”. Since then every year on the Christmas Eve, I used to bring home a lot of chocolate and fill her socks when she was asleep.  First thing she did the next morning was run to the terrace to check her sock. How excited she got when she found the toffees. “Papa look Santa gave me “Fruit & Nut” while I had asked for “Crackles”. She got “Crackles” the next Christmas.

    That Christmas eve, I returned late from my clinic and forgot to buy chocolates. Nishtha had gone to sleep.  My wife told me, “Nish has hung a big sock on the terrace. Now what will she feel when she will wakeup in the morning.”

    “Oh she will feel excited; his Daddy Santa will fill her socks with toffees.” I told her and went back in search of any open shop. It was late and the only shop I found open didn’t had chocolates. So Santa filled her socks with cheap candies.

    “Papa what happened to Santa this time? Didn’t he get chocolates at north pole?”  She asked jokingly.  She was fifteen now. “Papa” she continued, “I know, it’s you who fill my socks with toffees. Tushar Bhaiya told me that Santa is a just a story.” I was sad. I knew she had grown up.  “Tushar is telling you a lie, Beta. I don’t fill your socks with chocolates. It’s all because of your faith. If you believe in Santa and hang your socks, he will come every time with gifts.”

    This Christmas, she didn’t hang her socks. The toffees I had brought for her are still lying in my briefcase.

  • Mother’s Milk

    “Hello Anju, how is your daughter. She looks very thin, aren’t you feeding her properly?” This was her second visit to my clinic.  I could immediately recognize her. The last time I had given her a long lecture on the advantages of breast feeding. She had at that time come with her husband and her newborn baby. She had told she was feeding her cow’s milk.
    “Why not your milk?” I had almost shouted.
    “I am not able to, DokSaab.” She had said, a strange pain mixed joy expression on her face.
    “Why not? You can if you try.” I kept on hammering.
    “You work some where?”
    “Do you feel it will destroy your figure?”
    She just kept looking towards her baby and hadn’t replied.
    “Look Anju, You don’t realize you are depriving your daughter of her birth right. I can only advice, it’s up to you to follow”

    This time she had come with her mother-in-law.
    “I am worried too, DokSaab” she said, “I am doing all I can, but she keeps on crying”
    “Are you breast-feeding her?” I came directly to my favorite subject.
    She didn’t reply and turned to look at the posters.
    “No DokSaab, even I have told her to feed the baby, but she will not listen” her mother-in-law intervened.
    “What’s the matter, Anju? Even after my advice, you are still not giving her your milk. What type of mother are you”
    “DokSaab, I…” she just started sobbing and went out of the chamber.
    “These gen-next mothers, they don’t listen to our advice. They think they know all” her mother-in-law grumbled.
    “What can I do, except giving her right advice” I said and gave the vaccine to her baby and they went.

    “Doctor I wanted to talk to you about Anju”, he must be her husband, I think I have seen him before. “I know what you want to say. She is not breast feeding her baby. Even I have tried to convince her”
    “DokSaab she wants but she can’t”
    “If she wants then why doesn’t she feed” I was surprised.
    “Sir, we thought we’ll not let any one know. But when this morning you chided her in front of my mother, Anju realized we should have told you.”
    I was getting impatient “What should she have told me, and why didn’t she tell me in the morning.”
    “Well DokSaab she still wants to hide from my mother and others. DokSaab, we are married for seven years but couldn’t conceive. We tried all the possible treatment. Then we were told about Test-tube baby. It was then Anju decided we adopt a child. This baby she hasn’t delivered, so how could she feed her. She just doesn’t want anyone to know and later reveal that to our daughter.”
    I was feeling ashamed to have scolded Anju. “I will say sorry the next time she comes. Tell her no one will know from my mouth.” I said smiling.

  • My Wish

    I wish I could sing…

    but did not find a song

    I wish I could write…

    but did not find a story

    I wish I could fly…

    but did not find the wings

    I wish I could dance…

    but did not find the steps

    So many things I wished I could…

    but did not find the wishing well.

  • In Love

    I think I am in love.
    In love for the third time.
    First time it was when my uncle gifted me my first storybook, a famous five by Enid Blyton. I was just 11 years old. My love for books has never diminished since. Not even my love for Sandhya, whom I married after four years of a torrid affair, could lessen my first love. Whatever her hatred for books, she learnt to share her bed with my books.
    That was till Rags4u came into my life. We met in an online forum discussing books. She was a literature graduate doing P.G. and a bookworm like me. We shared all our knowledge of books. She had a great collection of classics. We talked about fiction, dramas, poetry, genres of literature, Ayn Rand, Harper Lee, Lawrence, Huxley. When at home I used to think about which book should I discuss with her, when at office I used to rush my work so that I may sit at my PC.
    I was feeling so good that Sandhya asked one evening why was I so excited these days. “I am in love with Rags4u,” I told a confused Sandhya, ” Well not that I don’t love you, you are my life, but I cant imagine a day without talking to Rags4u. I feel great when I see her online. Whenever I read a good novel I want to share with her. I think this is love, platonic love, Sandhya”.

    She was smiling. I think she has understood me. After all she is my second love.

  • Confessions of an Eve Teaser

    I was born and bought up in a family where Eve teasing was not a taboo. It was in fact a favorite activity during any family get together. My father had a natural ability to tease. And he had so many eves around him to tease. My mausi (mom’s sister), four mamis (mom’s brother’s wives) , my tai ji (his bhabhi), they all loved Dabboo Dada (my dad). The things he said to them, made them blush, though I could hardly understand the meaning at that time. Now when I recollect, I smile at the double meaning sentences he spoke, some times bordering to vulgarity. His was a Mazaak ka rishta with them, he told me.
    So teasing females came naturally to me. I used to tease my sisters till they wept. Throwing their dolls over the almira, drawing Kaajal mustaches over their faces while they slept, stealing their “Dear Diary” and then reading it aloud at dinner, were some of my favorite activities. My next target were the girls in my neighborhood. Making faces at them, tying their ponytails to the chairs, calling them names. They cried, complained to my parents, but then came again the next day to play with us. My dad told that teasing was a fun activity which promoted bonding .    He said it unites people while embarrassing them and expresses affection though humiliation. Ironic, isn’t it !!
    Later through my psychology books, I learnt more about this behavior.     Teasing has been described by psychologists as privileged disrespect, playful annoyance, and a mock insult. The contradictory nature of this word is best conveyed through its derivation. Teasing roots from the Anglo-Saxon word taesan (to tear apart) and the French word attiser (to make warm). Teasing ranges from playful joking to aggressive bullying and can be expressed both physically and verbally. While bullying takes the form of hitting, kicking and other violent behaviors, teasing is manifested through nicknames, facial gestures and taunting .
    Teasing is a pervasive activity that occurs in most group contexts including family, friends, coworkers and teammates. While teasing is commonly thought of as an ostracizing mechanism, new research has suggested that teasing actually facilitates bonds within a group and acts as an indicator of intimacy. While teasing is most prevalent among group members who are familiar with one another, teasing can be used among strangers to communicate friendliness and indirectly express affection. Thus, teasing can actually integrate the rookie by revealing both the norms of the group as well as the status of it’s members.
    So convinced that teasing is a harmless activity, I continued this habit of teasing my female classmates in my medical university too. It appeared that they enjoyed it too as they started calling me Mickey (Mouse).     It never occurred to me that teasing, or rather eve teasing could be a crime. Until I read a news item about a girl, Sarika Shah. She , a student of Ethiraj College in Chennai, fell victim to eve-teasing in the vicinity of her college; she was manhandled and the injuries she sustained proved fatal. It was then that I realised eve teasing could be hurtful, humiliating and sometimes dangerous, even fatal.
    I was convinced that eve teasing is a menace which has to be tackled, but remained indifferent to the problem. That was till my daughter became a teenager this month, and the starting of Blank Noise Project in Lucknow. I know something has to be done. We can not remain a mute spectator any more. and BNP is the first step in right direction.

  • Duty Bound

    C.P.
    [1]

    It was my first day in the RNM hospital. I was very excited. I was given the charge of Pediatrics ward. That was my first independent assignment. Till now I had always been under some senior, and had only carried out their decisions. Now I could take my own treatment decisions.
    I was having a little chat with the nurse when this ward boy came panting.

    -Doctor, there’s a very serious baby in the OPD.

    We rushed to the OPD. An old woman was holding this newly born baby, and was crying.

    -Doc saab, save my baby.

    The man, around seventy, was looking at me very earnestly.
    I placed the baby on the couch. He was blue, limp, not breathing, and blood stained. I put my stethoscope on his chest. His heart was beating, very slow.

    -Tell me what happened.

    -Doc saab my bahu gave birth before time, we could not bring her to the hospital. this baby has not cried after birth.

    I started resuscitation almost mechanically. Clean the mouth, put in a tube in his wind pipes and pushed oxygen. All the training I had received I applied on this child. Within minutes His color changed. He took one or two gasps and then started breathing rapidly. I started a IV drip and shifted the baby to ICU.

    -Uncle if you came five minutes late we could not have saved the baby. But now he’s out of danger. We’ll keep him here for two days.

    -Doc saab you are God for us,
    said that old man and fell on my feet.

    -That’s was my duty, uncle, I have saved so many such children before.

    I had done a good resuscitation job, as always. A victorious smile was on my face

    [2]

    I was about to leave my clinic, when Uma phoned from the reception,

    -there’s a patient having convulsions, should I refuse sir, its already very late for you..

    -No Uma , let him in, how old is he?

    -about fifteen, sir.

    I am a senior consultant and after fifteen years of practice can afford receptionists and can refuse patients. Patients have to take appointment in the morning to consult me in the evening.

    In the examination room this young boy was lying on the table, and convulsing vigorously. I just made a cursory glance at him and asked the nurse to give intravenous calmpose. Within minutes his jerks stopped and his body relaxed.

    He had a strange round moronic face. His limbs were shrivelled. a repulsive odour was there around him. even from distance I could tell the diagnosis, Cerebral Palsy.

    -How long has he been like this,

    The lady was sobbing. His husband, around my age, but looking older, looked at me. there was a mixed emotion on his face, joy, of seeing his child sleeping peacefully, and agony, of parenting a CP child.

    -almost always. But we could only come to know when he was unable to sit while other children his age were running. We have been to a number of hospitals, so many specialists, but he will always remain like this. Only death will cure him.

    -was there any problem at the time of birth?

    -Yes,     spoke the lady , for the first time,

    -he didn’t breath when he was born. his grandpa took him to the nearby hospital where he was admitted for three days.

    I could now see anger on the face of his father.
    -I regret that moment my dad took him to that doctor. He saved my son from death but gave him this cursed life.

    -Which hospital did your father took him to?

    -RNM.

    I felt a lump in my throat which I could not swallow. The words of the nurse on duty that day were still fresh in my ears, Don’t save this baby Doc Saab, You know how much damage his brain must have had by now. What life will you give him, and I had snubbed her, Who are we to predict future, Sister, we can only do our duty.

    -why did your dad took him to that hospital instead of letting him die in your home. and why have you brought him to me, instead of letting him convulse to death. I tell you why, you don’t want to be responsible for his sufferings and me to take the blame.

  • net-pal

    The pandal wore a deserted look. Last of the guests were going home after dinner. Gaurav was getting bored and desperately wanted to go back to his room to change. A long night full of various ceremonies was still awaiting us. I also wanted to change into something light. This wedding outfit for jaimala was killing me. Meeting so many people on a single evening was exciting and strenuous. I was too tired. So many people came to bless us and I had to get up every time to greet them or touch their feet. Almost every one whom I expected came. Mehra Aunty was there with her three daughters, all wearing similar dress just like uniforms. Sagar Uncle came in the same old gray suit, which he wears on every colony wedding. So many relatives, close and distant, all came.

    Meenu Di’s bag was overflowing with small decorative envelopes, which the guest gave as the monetary token of their priceless blessings. She must have collected a handsome amount by now. Gupta Uncle and Aunty were genuinely excited looking at me in this Bridal dress. Doctor Thakur came alone, gave me a small red envelop and left soon telling about some serious patient at his clinic. He has treated me when I was a child. I was expecting her wife to come too. She is ten years senior to me but we are good friends. I looked for Meenu di but she was away, so I kept the envelop in my hand.

    All my friends got themselves photographed with their Jeeju. Sheila was becoming especially very flirty with Gaurav and I had to push her away. Every one whom I expected came, every one except him. All evening I had anxiously waited for Ajay to come. I got a little disappointed by now. He had promised He’d come. But now the functions were almost over. Gaurav gave me a shy smile as he went with his friends. My gang, Simran, Pooja, Neha and Jaya were giggling at some lewd joke. I stretched my legs and tried to relax on the sofa.

    I was thinking about Ajay. Why didn’t he come? This would be the first time when he didn’t come after promising. It was about three years back when I first met Ajay. I had just finished my Intermediate and waiting for the results. Jaya and I were having lots of fun. Roaming all day on my black scooty. Tea at Tulsi, coffee at Barista, chaat at Royal Cafe, or just window-shopping at Janpath. It was Jaya’s idea to go to CyberX, a cyber cafe near our home, for chatting.

    I had never tried chatting before though I was using net for my school projects and emails. The cafe was full. It was pleasant homely hall; interior was cozy and cool considering the sultry July weather. The moment I logged into the yahoo chat room with my mail ID, garry_abc, my PC screen was full of chat requests popping up like popcorn in the machine at Tulsi. “asl”, “ctc”, “hi babe”, “wanna have fun! garry”. I was at my wits end. I just closed all the windows.

    Then one window popped up, ” HI garry, this is ajay, 27/m/india, extremely bored, and no one to chat 🙁 , can u help me plz”. I don’t know why but couldn’t resist his desperate appeal. “hi ajai 19/f/in here”. He told he was a fresher ENT Surgeon at Nehru Hospital, Allahabad living alone with no friend in town. We began to chat almost every day. He said he was free in the evenings and so my evenings were booked for chat with Ajay. We talked about so many things. My likes, my dislikes, movies I saw, books I read, music I listened, my family, my friends. He was interested in all about me. Clock struck 5 and I couldn’t resist reaching CyberX. Most of the time alone, but sometimes Jaya sat by my side. His style was hypnotic. His use of words was fascinating. I had never seen him. That day I asked him to come to voice chat. He had a rich deep voice. Just chat and few emails were enough to bring me to this state. I was in love with him. Ajay was in my dreams, in my thoughts.

    But whenever I tried to be a little personal with him, he evaded replying. He changed the subject very diplomatically, talking about his patients and his hospital. I thought he was being shy, and will open up.

    My Inter result was as expected, but I couldn’t get through CPMT. Since Dad was not in favour of my sitting idle preparing for next attempt, I joined a course in dietetics, at Naini Agriculture University Allahabad. NO one could guess why I chose Allahabad over Delhi, but Dad was satisfied that I will be nearer to my home. Only Jaya knew why, but she promised she’d not tell. Ajay was excited too.

    My first month at Naini was very busy, so I couldn’t chat with him, only few hurried emails were the only exchange between us. Then again it was the usual daily chat. I asked him to come someday to my hostel, but he said he was very busy because many of his colleagues were on leave.

    Jaya had come to his uncle’s place in Allahabad that weekend. She came to meet me and I agreed her that we will ourselves go to meet Ajay at his hospital. Nehru Hospital was just like a typical district hospital, smelly, overflowing with patients and their relatives. We managed to reach the office. “There’s no Doctor Ajay here, not since I came here 3 yrs back” said the Medical Superintendent. We came back disappointed.

    That evening I told Ajay about our visit to his Hospital. He didn’t reply. just disconnected. He didn’t come online after that. I was very angry, and hurt. So this man was making a fool of me. I’ll never forgive him. I became busy with my studies.

    Then one day I got his email. “sorry garima. I never wanted to hurt you, but unintentionally I have done so. I know you will not excuse me, but I am writing this so that I may feel lighter in my heart. This guilty feeling is unbearable. Garima, its true I am a doctor living alone, not at Allahabad, but Lucknow. But I am married, my family, wife, son and parents live at Gonda. I never told you that I was a bachelor and never tried to flirt with you. That day at Logon, I was checking my mails, I saw you chatting on yahoo. You were looking cute. I snooped your ID and sent you that chat request. I started enjoying chatting with you. Just to avoid any chance of face-to-face contact I told you a lie about Allahabad. I did my MBBS from Allahabad, so I knew a lot about Allahabad. When you joined this dietetics course at Allahabad, I knew I was in trouble, but I never knew you would start searching for me. I don’t know which of my words gave you this Idea, but there was no romantic suggestion in my chat. Its that I was alone and enjoyed chatting. I treated you as a true friend. If you believe me, and excuse me, and after all my lies, still keep me as your friend, then please reply soon, or just ignore this and you will never hear from me. Yours Ajay”

    There was sincerity in his reply. One month I had not talked to him. But I missed him. That evening I sent him my reply. I was now more relaxed with him. He joked about finding a very handsome doctor for me. Before the completion of my dietetics degree, Dad settled my Marriage with Gaurav. Ajay approved of Gaurav as soon as he saw his photo. He said both names, Gaurav and Garima had same meanings. The marriage was in February. I e-mailed the scanned wedding card to him, as I was scared to ask his address and personally invite him. But He promised He’d come.

    “Hey do you want to stay in this pandal the whole night ” Jaya was standing in front of me. ” Oh no, just coming” I said and looked at this red envelop. Out of curiosity I opened to see how much money did Doctor Thakur gave. There was a thousand-rupee note, and a small letter. Jaya snatched the letter and started reading.

    ” Hello Garima, God bless you. May your Life with Gaurav be full with joy. I promised so I came. Chatting with you were the most memorable times in my life. I hope you will be able to forgive and forget me.
    Dr Thakur aka Ajay ”

  • Why should I worship God

    “God Fearing”, that’s what we call people who believe in God.
    But is it really the fear of God that drives people to believe in God. Should we worship God just out of fear. Fear that He can Harm us if we don’t believe in Him. Fear that some bad thing will happen to us or our near ones if we don’t worship. I have heard certain “vrat katha’s” where it is being told that so and so showed disrespect to the God and by the next evening he lost all his family and wealth, he didn’t eat prasad after the vrat katha and next day he was falsely implicated in a robbery and was arrested, subsequently when he repented, the king had a dream that this man is innocent and should be released. The moral of every vrat katha is that those who do not believe will be ruined, so one must believe in God.
    I have always believed in God, not out of fear but because of my upbringing in a religious family. God is our guardian, tvamev maataa ch pita tvamev, I was told. Why fear Him who is my mother and father too, brother and friend too. So I beleived in Him without any fear. I had full faith in His ability to take care of me while I performed my duties towards my family and my society religiously. There had been periods of disbelief like when my dad passed away while he was alone , away on an office tour. I lost faith in God, asking Him why this happened to me even when I always prayed and followed His path . But these periods of disbelief were shortlived, and soon I started visiting temples and keeping my weekly fasts. My regaining of faith was not out of any fear, but because of accepting things as my Fate.
    But now, after so many years, I feel that it doesn’t matter whether one worships Him or not.I have been religious all my life, never harming any one, and am still struggling to make ends meet, while there are my friends who have risen on the social ladder to great heights by hook or by crook. I have seen people committing all sorts of sin and rising in all fields of life despite God. And I have seen people dedicating their life to the selfless service of mankind, and suffering the whole life. There is no God to punish the sinners and to help the pious. Its all in your mind. If your conscience allows, you can do whatever you feel like. There is no one to fear except your own conscience . God is only a myth created in your mind to restrict you to a set pattern of behavior approved by the society. One can rise or one can fall depending on his deeds. Whether he cares for God or His believers is immaterial.
    So I ask myself , Why should I worship God?

  • Should I Write

    I read Ashok’s Blog today. Since then I am thinking that I should also write. I have so many ideas churning inside my mind. All I ‘ll have to do is write all that, or rather type on my keyboard. How easy it is. In fact I have the talent. Its just that I am lazy. Several times I have felt so strongly for (or against) certain issues that I think of writing to the editor of the TOI. I have my points and counter points arguing in my mind. I sit and arrange all and start to write. But then I think why am I writing . Who will read my views? Will it have any impact on him? or whether my article will be published or not. And that’s the end of the writer in me. I simply put away the notebook and go to sleep. And with me goes to sleep all those thoughts which if written and shared may have made some impact.