My Wanderings 110. Better to aim at a lion and not killing it rather than hunting for Jackal and killing it.

            It is not sucesses only which make us  perfect in life but failiures also help us in making our life perfect. The experience we get from failiures is sometimes more important for us than what we get from sucesses. . Actually we should have a fair mix of successes and failiures in our life, which will make our life balanced.  Success is acheived mostly because of good luck i.e when opportunity meets our preparation but failiures makes us to create opportunities as per our preparations . 

                   Dreams are something which are important for person to accomplish but more than that we sometimes  get more from pursuing that dream , and not accomplishing it, then we  accomplish many of them.  

                 When we send our kids to play organised sports like football , soccer, swimming whatever for most of us, it is not because we are desperate for them to learn the intricacies of the sport . What we really want them to learn is far more important  i.e. team work, perseverance,  sports man ship , the value of hard work , an ability to deal with adversity. This kind of indirect learning is sometimes more important . 

                   There is lot of talk these days about giving children self esteem . It is not something you give them .It is something they have to build. There is only one thing to build it . You give them something they can not do, they work hard until they find they can do it , and you just keep repeating the process. 

                    Sometimes credit was given for choosing  difficult problem and not solving them rather than choosing easy problems and solving them completely. 

                    Many startups choose their CEO's from failed companies , to make their enterprise a success , because they recognise the potential in them , and who  later on came to their expectations and proved them right. 

My Wanderings 109. Short Story No. 61. His Estranged Mother

               It was cold  January of Nineteen ninety eight  when I was transfered to Srinagar on promotion from Pathankot.  There were my  several other batch mates from Jammu and other parts of India who were alloted accommodation in our Banks guest house near Badami Bagh area alogwith myself. The rooms of guest house were shared by two persons each  and I also had to Share my room with another batch mate from Jammu, who appeared to me  very sober and  gentle person.

          After a day or two  because of rush created at the guest house due  to arrival of  our batch, another colleague of ours  was asked to share our room , who most reluctantly joined us as he was not happy to share the room already occupied by two persons. He was in no humour to have chat with us either,  because he appeared  very  angry ,  as he had  a hot  argument with guest house manager over  sharing  of the  room. We did  not also like   his presence much  in our  room as we took it as an intrusion in our privacy and  it could   make  our room crowdy. But we were helpless to stop the entry of third person in our room. Later on he compromised with the situation  and slept like a log till  late while snoring throughout  the night. 

In the morning after breakfast we all shifted to our  workplaces with out much ado.  

                            After a  few days he started conversation with us . His name was Jugal Dhar  and he was also from Jammu. He was  very handsome person  having   fair complexion with a tuft of brown hair  on his head and with blue eyes. He appeared very intelligent and daring. He was very much concious of his rights and would fight with any  person who tried to  compromise with them. It was not only his own rights , he would fight for others also if he found somebody in distress.

                He mostly used to talk about his father,  who had passed away before his birth . He once said, " My relatives tell me that my father was just like an English man , very tall and fair with golden hair." Whenever asked about her mother ,he would cut the sentence short by saying, "she also died after my birth and I was brought up by my uncles in a joint family". Sometimes , he would narrate the harrowing  tales of his torture by his uncles, aunts and cousins right from his childhood . They appeared to us like horror tales. One of the tales which I still remember is that once he was going to appear for exam. through snow laden paths wearing the shoe of his cousin and when the  later  came to know about this, he chased and forced  him to take off his shoes. Jugal had to reach exam centre bare footed. There were so many horrowing  tales of his torture which he had to undergo during his childhood. But being  intelligent and fast in accademics he completed his education and got a good job . Thereafter , he  started living independently . Later on he married a girl from  an affualent family after falling in love with her. After his marriage the horrowing experiences of his life came to an end. He loved his  wife and children so much.

            Once he told us that he was having some heart ailment for which he had an  operation recently and now he was alright but he was taking  some high antibiotic injections  weekly at near by hospital . Sometimes I also accompanied him to hospital as it was advised to him by his  doctor that he should not go alone to the hospital for taking injections. One day he said to me, " I am very much scared about my health problem. It is not for me that I worry but it is for my children , who are in their teens yet. I consoled him by saying that nothing will happen to him and  he will live a very healthy life but he said nothing in response and looked at me with a fake  smile. 

                        In the meantime one of our colleagues was transfered and Jugal was alloted new room to share the same with another person.  But the bonds of friendship developed with him for the last few months continued. 

                         Later on somebody told us  that the mother of Jugal was very much  alive and not dead as stated by him. Actually after death of her husband and  birth of Jugal , she had remarried and left her toddler son with his uncles at parental house. She never cared to know about Jugal till migration of our community to Jammu. It was after the death of her second husband her step sons,  whom she brought up with love and care, deserted her at jammu as they themselves were living in  small one room hutment because of scarcity of rented houses at jammu those days 

Jugal had already constructed a house at Jammu for his family as he had shifted to jammu much earlier. His biological mother came to know about the whereabouts of Jugal and one day knocked at  his door. When Jugal opened the  door of his house , she disclosed her identity to him. Jugal was shocked to see her all in blood and flesh.

She said to Jugal,"  it is an old saying -whether ilegitimate or legitimate one should have her own child  and you are my legitimate and biological son. I  want to  stay with you in this old age. 

But Jugal refused her offer and shut the  door of his house.  When Jugal entered his room , he fainted and recovered from the shock after a long time. Then Jugal noticed her several times on the road side waiting for him ,whenever  he was leaving for office. But Jugal never entertained her. 

          Now reverting to Story  it was month of December of the same year ,  the Jugal came to Srinagar after a long leave to join his duty.  He was alone in his room and I was also alone in my room. He requested me to join him in his room. I promptly accepted his request .  He offered me a drink or two. We both enjoyed the evening in his room listening to ghazals  of Jagjit singh as he was a music lover. Next day when I came from office , somebody knocked the door of my room.

              As I opened the door,  it was a waiter who told me that my  friend Jugal is sinking in his room . I hurried towards the room of Jugal and noticed that some of our colleagues had already arrived . I touched the face of Jugal and then his pulse . His face had turned blue in colour and I could not find his pulse . In the meantime ambulance was called  and we took the Jugal to hospital, where he was declared brought dead . Next day body of Jugal was brought to Jammu and handed over to his family for cremation.

                  In cremation ground people  noticed an old woman wailing and weeping a little far off. Perhaps she was his estranged  Mother. After this scene no body ever noticed her.

My Wanderings 108. Short Story No 60. Her Last wake up call

                           Arvind was a very daring and straightforward person right from the time I came into his aquantance. He boldly encountered all the problems which he faced in his life. After changing various jobs he finally got settled in central excise department. He got married to Usha a very beautiful and educated girl who was working as a teacher in state  education department .  It was love cum arranged marriage as he had  fallen in love with her at first sight and arranged marriage with her through the involvement of his parents. Usha was really a very nice person with all the womanly virtues like humility, love care and honesty. 

            Their married life was going on  in most cordial  and compatible manner and they were enjoying the blessings of married life to the hilt. After some time  they were blessed with a baby girl, who came into their life like a divine boon.

          It was  only after the birth of their daughter that  Usha began to show some signs of ailments which continued through out her life  and always  became a  reason of worry for her husband Arvind.

          Strange are the ways of nature as no body can anticipate about what is stored for him in providence.  First she had  cynocytes  which latter on developed into chronic asthma and made the quality of her life miserable .  Then after some years she was diagnosed with heart problem which required immediate operation . After  successful operation some of the problems of couple were mitigated at the cost of  some care and attention which she required  through out the rest of her life.  But the  problem of asthama continued to add sufferings to her life . A small exposure to dust or soot would make her life miserable. She would often complaint that death was better than these sufferings  which she had to undergo because of these illnesses.

                One day her husband in order to console her said , " Sometimes it takes a wake-up call from God to alert us to the fact that we're hurrying through our lives instead of actually living them; that we're living the fast life instead of the good life. And I think, for many people, that wake-up call takes the form of an illness.

" But why the other people who are not ill so often,  do not require this wake up call from  God,"  replied back Usha. 

"  Life is difficult for every one , every one has bad days but  God tests his dear ones only  by putting them in  more adversity and misery. The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful than all," said her husband . These consoling  words of  Arvind brought a smile on the face of  Usha and she fell asleep. 

          With the passage of time and ageing process Usha became  more vunrable to these chronic illnesses  as her immunity was very low. Sometimes attacks of asthama would make her life very miserable and she had a narrow escape from death like situation. One day while cursing the quality of her life she exclaimed in great sorrow,  "Chronic illnesses are like uninvited guests who never seem to leave.  They stick around sometimes, for life time , reshaping the way our body function . They don't just play with our body , they can also mess up with our minds. Living with chronic disease can make us  feel letdown, isolated,angry  and downright sad."

"But chronic illnesses can also be an  opportunity to find strength , grace and sometimes humour in the face of challenges it provides," replied Arvind.

"Oh, it  is all what's app knowledge .  only the wearer knows where the shoe pinches", said Usha vehemently. 

Arvind could not coin a proper reply to Usha's words and choose to remain silent. 

                      He was very much worried about the health of Usha. Moreover, he felt the intensity of the  problems of Usha deeply and a mere thought of it would bring sadness to his face.  He knew already  one day Usha will leave him for good and he may  not be able to do anything. His life will become desperate and desolate  with out Usha. His body will become  just like a living corpse in her absence . His life will be aimless and rudderless too . He will not bear the death of Usha in any case. How he will look up after his daughter which was now in  her teens . These thoughts of separation from Usha would bring tears to  his eyes but  he always mustered the courage and encountered Usha with resolute and smiling countenance. 

              One morning Arvind slept till  late in his bed. His wife Usha came to awaken him but all in vain. Oh God ! Perhaps that was her last wake up call to him . Doctor was called in , who declared Arvind dead and cause of death was heart attack. Usha fell down on the floor with a wild shreik  and was motionless. The people around thought for a minute that she too has passed away. But after sometime she got up and mustered courage to arrange for the final rights of her husband while consoling her teenage daughter , who was weeping vehemently. 

         A death from a long illness is very different from a sudden death. It gives you time to say goodbye and time to adjust to the idea that the beloved will not be with you anymore.