He was all there alone, sitting under that peepal tree and counting something day and night. He loves to watch kids playing out there – different sorts of games, sometimes – football, cricket and at times just running to catch each other’s arms. He always smile to the lovely beauty around him and his favorite sport is to park his wheelchair under that same peepal tree and count and count and watch.
I felt confused observing this behavior of his, so one day i approached him to ask – ‘Hey, what do you count all day long ?’ with a smile he returned the reply,’ The blessings i have that all these kids lack and you know that am winning already in this game’.
That was amazing, an awakened child – lots of physical obstructions, still happy and content maybe that’s what i need to count everyday to win this game of mine 🙂
Infinite Being ❤
‘When people do sit on you ? How do you feel Mr. chair’, asked the human.
‘Well, i’m glad am of some use to the humankind whose so mean to throw me, kick me and hurt me thinking am inanimate object’, sobbed Mr. Chair and almost broke down when he spoke those 2 heart breaking words – inanimate objects. Handing him the handkerchief, the human heart cracked inside just to see the state he made of creatures both animate and mute around.
An ambulance was called carrying a carpenter to fix Mr. Chair’s grief – a heartbreak, clearly he showed the signs of depression, tired of serving, haunted with human presence for years.
And every news channel flooded with the reports and questions never to be answered, what kind of development is this ? Where are the rights of a chair ? Who permitted trees to be chopped off to be converted into furniture ? Who will take care of plastic ones when broken ?
Mr. Chair went through various treatments finally, unable to survive the heartbreak had to left this world with last words on his lips,’ If ever i was reborn, i’ll never be a human’.
That’s we are.
Make your human avatar of some use not misuse.
Short story from :
Infinite being ❤
How pure we were, when born and how the spoiled adults made of us in a course of time, it’s remarkable to see how generations are spoiling generations with limited knowledge and perspective to glue newbies to so called ‘LIFE’, projecting their insecurities and never accepting them.
Here’s 3 rightfully wrongs to be beware of :
- God is up : No, god is not up. It’s right inside you and you need not to search him anywhere then within and within every other being. God must be laughing on us stating,’Morons, will search everywhere except within, for me’. 😁
- Control : Day before yesterday i saw ‘Love you zindagi’ trailer and i was mesmerized with the idea that how since childhood we are taught to supress than express and later on which create various psychological and communication issues that may lead to suicidal instincts or purgation of emotions in a wrong way.😶
- Competition : We are not born for it, to compete or so called theory of survival. Our essence knows what we are and how much and for how long we can go with our natural, in built self. In way of fixing, spoiled Adults actually break up, letting the natural light to burn in hell 😢
So, it’s important for us to make our next GEN smarter and capable but not with old values and rigid ideas, if this was the case we won’t have creativity and abundant opportunities around instead 9 to 5 work.
Think about it and pls counter attack, if you disagree in any way. Stay Amazing😊
With 💗 Infinite Being.
The last time i asked this question – Who am I ? i possibly end this with a very profound line that it’s not body that am made of, it is something eternal, that’s indivisible, cannot be destroyed and up above like you’re the spectator of most of the things going around. And this time too, few days back i asked the same question and i was convinced am not what people see me as in physical terms and at least being a descendent of God, am not that limited in my powers. Then my mind wandered to those saptrishis who were reservoirs of eternal power and bliss. I hardly doubt their powers because whatever in terms of miracles we are doing by creating new discoveries are already there around us that we have forgotten. The changed climatic conditions, scenario and what not we have spoiled as proud and brat homo sapiens.
so, back on who am I ? It raised more questions than satisfying me with an answer to calm my mind. If am a soul, then why this soul, why this body, why these activities, why am behind materialistic things, why i want to be remembered, why exactly people die, why Bhagvata Gita has so much relevance ? Why ? Why ? These Why put more Whys in my way and till i get the answers why not you ask the same question yourself – Who Am I ?
Till next time ! May God bless you with the same question.
She was there on the roadside sitting in front of the temple selling garlands made of Marigold and beautiful roses by her side. From a distance she appeared a girl with parted hairs, almost beautiful flicks that touched her forehead whenever the wind tried to enter through it and a pony tail with white ribbon neatly combed dressed up in royal blue jeans, a black shirt sort of and a yellow top underneath the black shirt. She was a bit dusky in complexion, with beautiful black eyes and a comparatively small face, must be a student or a drop out can’t say.
The moment a boy who was carrying a luggage behind his so jugadu motor cycle with a long carrier attached to it passed by, she called out and he stopped, she continued as,’ Oye, mummy ko bhej deo’ (Listen, send mom here at the stall) and he looked at her and said,’ Ji sahab or yes, boss’, smiling and went his way. Meanwhile, she passed her time asking guys this and that and even beating up a small kid for abusing or such offensive words.
‘ Oye, tu mere raide ka dhyan rakhega, me tjhse 2 rupiya dunga’ ( Hey boy, will you mind my stall, i’ll pay you 2 rupees) smiling, she winded up her stall a bit and went out to seek her mom, i guess. I just got to see her SWAG, the entire gestures of her body speak more of her as a boy and i miss that girl being neglected.
To me she appeared a Boy dressed as a girl or maybe the society made her a boy finally.