Little Chidia and lover Sparrow met and lived in a nest they built on the tall Peepal tree. They had a very poetic love life chirping and pecking, so much so that other birdies looked Chidia and Sparrow with jealousy.
Days passed by…. Little rosy Chidia became rosier. One day Lover Sparrow saw Chidia pensive and tired. Sparrow became anxious and worried. On repeated queries Chidia gave him mischievous smile, her beaks got red, and she shyly pecked Sparrow.
Sparrow could not make out a thing, but he was confident, his Chidia bird is not at all unhappy, though in suffering.
On an evening when Sparrow came nest, he found Chidia with two little chirping chicks, their beaks open. Then only he realized that all these days Chidia seemed disturbed was because she was carrying these two Eggies. No wonder, he started feeling at clouds, his beaks rose up, overwhelming with joy, he danced and sang a birdsong.
Head held high, he flew out to fetch bits of wool to keep the little birdies warm. He flew again to the woods to catch the best worms for the young ones. Needless to say, life of Chidia and Sparrow turned around the little chicks, thenceforth. On a fine day they baptized the chicks with beautiful names. The chicks were named Chirpi and Chukoo. Sparrow and Chidia were found busy with Chirpi and Chukoo all the time. They screamed with joy at even the silliest play the chicks did. Days and months passed by, Peepal tree shed leaves once again. The little nest became smaller for the family. Sparrow never looked tired, he continued his flights in search of warm clothes and worms for Chirpi and Chuko.
Gradually, the nest became less noisy as Chirpi and Chukoo made little chirpings and showed weak anxiety in the worms Sparrow brought home. Chidia knew of the restlessness in the nest, but Sparrow was not told.
One day when Sparrow came home with a beak-ful of worms, Chidia was found alone in the nest. She seemed happy and proud, that her Chirpi and Chukoo flew away in to the sky on their own. More so, they have also found their own partners to live with and were collecting hays to build their own nests.
Sparrow was not very enthused and looked sad. He became worried for the chicks as he has never let them wander alone. He lost interest in worms. He did not flew out to get clothes. The rain did not thrill him any more to have a peck on the beak of Chidia. So much so,he wanted to leave his old nest which seems utterly empty to him.
Chidia was, however, at peace. She chirped in to the ears of Sparrow…. Chirpi and Chukoo are having new chicks in their nests. We should visit their nests and embrace the little ones.
Saparrow again straightened his wings. After all, every thing has not come to an end. He has got jobs to finish..
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
A Priceless Award
Last week I posted my entry in the ‘Meaning of Independence’ contest called for by TERI. My entry was awarded 1st prize. Above all, it is more a matter of pride as the winning entry was personally handpicked by none other than Dr. R.K Pachauri, Director General of TERI.& the Chairman of the ‘Nobel winning’ IPCC. However, I register a note of regret for I had not turned up for receiving the prize. It is a loss. A loss I will be recalling for many years to come.
I was congratulated by many a friends. I also have mailed the piece for them. For others, it is once again given under in the format which I sent for the contest.
"What does being part of a sovereign democratic nation (whose independence and current form have come at a price) mean to you? What can you do to further the values associated with independence that we celebrate on this day?"
------------------------------
1. I feel great being a part of this sovereign democratic nation as the colours of India we see today are made with our own wisdom and labour. BUT………I recall my journey from Jamshedpur to Kharagpur. I saw a herd of my countrymen, lean and dark, scarcely clothed, board the train with loads of fire woods over their heads. The dead wood they collect from the jungles would be exchanged for a few rupees to buy two meals for the family. I weep inside, whenever I recollect what I saw then, for I could do little for these brethren of mine. Today’s Statesman reports that 77% of Indians live BPL. I urge our enlightened youth to be the ‘Adhar’ to lighten these ‘billion lives’ and be partners in filling their bellies and minds.
2. Given a chance, I’ll be back to village, plant trees, conserve water and contribute greening the environment. Here in Delhi, I pledge using less water and electricity and will say NO to plastic so that my grand children can enjoy the freedom and independence, my father fought and won, in its fullness.
--------------------
M.M. Mathew
LIC
Extn: 2751
I was congratulated by many a friends. I also have mailed the piece for them. For others, it is once again given under in the format which I sent for the contest.
"What does being part of a sovereign democratic nation (whose independence and current form have come at a price) mean to you? What can you do to further the values associated with independence that we celebrate on this day?"
------------------------------
1. I feel great being a part of this sovereign democratic nation as the colours of India we see today are made with our own wisdom and labour. BUT………I recall my journey from Jamshedpur to Kharagpur. I saw a herd of my countrymen, lean and dark, scarcely clothed, board the train with loads of fire woods over their heads. The dead wood they collect from the jungles would be exchanged for a few rupees to buy two meals for the family. I weep inside, whenever I recollect what I saw then, for I could do little for these brethren of mine. Today’s Statesman reports that 77% of Indians live BPL. I urge our enlightened youth to be the ‘Adhar’ to lighten these ‘billion lives’ and be partners in filling their bellies and minds.
2. Given a chance, I’ll be back to village, plant trees, conserve water and contribute greening the environment. Here in Delhi, I pledge using less water and electricity and will say NO to plastic so that my grand children can enjoy the freedom and independence, my father fought and won, in its fullness.
--------------------
M.M. Mathew
LIC
Extn: 2751
Thursday, August 12, 2010
A subject for contest
I feel great being a part of this sovereign democratic nation as the colours of India we see today are made with our own wisdom and labour. BUT………I recall my journey from Jamshedpur to Kharagpur. I saw a herd of my countrymen, lean and dark, scarcely clothed, board the train with loads of fire woods over their heads. The dead wood they collect from the jungles would be exchanged for a few rupees to buy two meals for the family. I weep inside, whenever I recollect what I saw then, for I could do very little for these brethren of mine. Today’s Statesman reports that 77% of Indians are BPL. I urge our enlightened youth to be the ‘Adhar’ to lighten these ‘billion lives’.
Given a chance, I’ll be back to village, plant trees, conserve water and contribute greening the environment. Here in Delhi, I pledge using less water and electricity and will say NO to plastic so that my grand children will enjoy the freedom and independence my father fought and won in its fullness.
Note :
The thoughts relate to a contest by TERI. Since the contest has a 100 words boundary, which I could not cross wishing not to lose the prize I may win.So that is it and I leave it as such.
Given a chance, I’ll be back to village, plant trees, conserve water and contribute greening the environment. Here in Delhi, I pledge using less water and electricity and will say NO to plastic so that my grand children will enjoy the freedom and independence my father fought and won in its fullness.
Note :
The thoughts relate to a contest by TERI. Since the contest has a 100 words boundary, which I could not cross wishing not to lose the prize I may win.So that is it and I leave it as such.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Three legged bird
Paul (not the Disciple), the soothsayer Octopus dropped the ball of the mighty Germans in their own net. The Germans lost 1-0 to the under-dogs Spain, true to the Paul prophecy. The majority of angry Germans now wants to make a salad of ‘Paul’ or to fry him or to put him to sharks. I suggest let them put Paul to the gas chamber which they are good at as they have done to the Jews during WW-II.
I recollect a folktale about a Paul in Kerala
Pyilee (a malayaleised version of Paul) was an Egg trader.
Once Pyilee was on a local train to Ernakulam with baskets of eggs to be sold in the Ernakulam market. Pyilee’s co-traveller was Prof Thomas, a well learned professor of so many sciences. The local train rolling on its parallels was on its way to Ernakulam occasionally bugling and coughing smoke.
Nothing else to do, Pyilee engrossed in counting profits of his day’s trade folding and unfolding his five fingers & knuckling them in between. Pyilee then noticed the handsome professor lost in deep thoughts. Pyilee was hurt for he thought that the professor was bored and really needs a joyful company to ride through. Pyilee, therefore, volunteered him a helping hand …..…“ Sar Engotta ” ( Where are you going, Sir?)
The professor, though not liked the countryman’s anxiety, murmured –‘Ernakulam’’
After some more time the simple Pyilee put another step to proceed the diologue…
Sare… Ernakulam is well two hours away… so why don’t we engage in some talks to pass time…
Smirking on the country-man’s advance Professor sarcastically put across “ “Thanickenthariam… Eee Lokathile” (What on earth you know about ?) chuckling and whispering “ other than the eggs”
You are right Sir, agreed the illiterate Pyilee… I am an egg-seller least literate… but yet we shall give a try” .
Time passed by.. but the tireless Pyilee did not give up.. So he offered the learnt Professor a way to pass time. He invited the Professor for a ‘Quiz’ session. The amused professor submitted to Pyilee with a condition that for any question un-answered by either, the loser will give the quizzer 100 rupees. Pyilee, pleaded for a 50% discount in his case as he was the poorer of the two The Scholar professor agreed to Pyilee’s condition and offered him to kick the first ball.
Sari Sare, Pyilee, after some meditation, kicked the first ball..
“ Bhoomiyile Ethu Pakshickanu Moonnu kalullathu’? ( Name the bird on Earth that has three legs)..
The sceptic professor chuckled, then decided to give a try to prove the idiot wrong. His scholastic medulla oblangetta browsed through various branches of zoology… but could not locate a creature with three legs, leave alone a bird with three legs.
He pulled out a crispy 100 rupee note and flashed it to Pyilee and challenged him to name that wonder bird.
Pyilee briskly put the crispy currency in his purse and pulled out a muddy old 50 rupee note and respectfully placed before the Professor and said, Sir, I surrender….
“Enickum Angine Oru Pakshiye Ariyilla Sare…” .(I too do not know such a bird on earth…)
I recollect a folktale about a Paul in Kerala
Pyilee (a malayaleised version of Paul) was an Egg trader.
Once Pyilee was on a local train to Ernakulam with baskets of eggs to be sold in the Ernakulam market. Pyilee’s co-traveller was Prof Thomas, a well learned professor of so many sciences. The local train rolling on its parallels was on its way to Ernakulam occasionally bugling and coughing smoke.
Nothing else to do, Pyilee engrossed in counting profits of his day’s trade folding and unfolding his five fingers & knuckling them in between. Pyilee then noticed the handsome professor lost in deep thoughts. Pyilee was hurt for he thought that the professor was bored and really needs a joyful company to ride through. Pyilee, therefore, volunteered him a helping hand …..…“ Sar Engotta ” ( Where are you going, Sir?)
The professor, though not liked the countryman’s anxiety, murmured –‘Ernakulam’’
After some more time the simple Pyilee put another step to proceed the diologue…
Sare… Ernakulam is well two hours away… so why don’t we engage in some talks to pass time…
Smirking on the country-man’s advance Professor sarcastically put across “ “Thanickenthariam… Eee Lokathile” (What on earth you know about ?) chuckling and whispering “ other than the eggs”
You are right Sir, agreed the illiterate Pyilee… I am an egg-seller least literate… but yet we shall give a try” .
Time passed by.. but the tireless Pyilee did not give up.. So he offered the learnt Professor a way to pass time. He invited the Professor for a ‘Quiz’ session. The amused professor submitted to Pyilee with a condition that for any question un-answered by either, the loser will give the quizzer 100 rupees. Pyilee, pleaded for a 50% discount in his case as he was the poorer of the two The Scholar professor agreed to Pyilee’s condition and offered him to kick the first ball.
Sari Sare, Pyilee, after some meditation, kicked the first ball..
“ Bhoomiyile Ethu Pakshickanu Moonnu kalullathu’? ( Name the bird on Earth that has three legs)..
The sceptic professor chuckled, then decided to give a try to prove the idiot wrong. His scholastic medulla oblangetta browsed through various branches of zoology… but could not locate a creature with three legs, leave alone a bird with three legs.
He pulled out a crispy 100 rupee note and flashed it to Pyilee and challenged him to name that wonder bird.
Pyilee briskly put the crispy currency in his purse and pulled out a muddy old 50 rupee note and respectfully placed before the Professor and said, Sir, I surrender….
“Enickum Angine Oru Pakshiye Ariyilla Sare…” .(I too do not know such a bird on earth…)
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Sacred heart ripped out
The recent trip to Kerala, I had a prioritised mission. I wanted to watch the ‘Good Friday’ celeberations of Kudamaloor church. I had last participated the programme in 1971, the year I left for Delhi. After that, though I wanted, I could not make it. This time, I had planned my Kerala trip to suit the good Friday. I must confess, the enthusiasm with which I wanted to visit my hometown, especially the key institution of the village, Kudamaloor Church, famous for it’s Good Friday programmes as also for being the birth place(parish) of Saint Alphonsa, could not sustain for long. The Kudamaloor St.Mary’s church was believed to have been built 900 years ago by the then king of the province, Chempakassery Raja. With so many wonderful architectural marvels, the old church in it’s present form might have been built not less than 400 years ago. The icon of the church was the beautiful painting of The Lady with baby Jesus with Kings, placed in the centre of the Alter of the main hall in a huge glass frame meticulously placed to fit in the painting. The church also has stone carvings inscribing some historical tit bits written in a Malayalam script, which the present generation could hardly understand. The stones were placed as floor marbles. With wide huge stone walls, the church hardly needed any cooling. In my last to last visit I had noticed that the floor has been done up with new ‘Rajasthan marbles’ probably to make it look modern. The carved stones were plucked and placed along the wall, as if to make it to speak it’s own age and ethnicity. I feel it would have been beautiful if it had remained where it was already laid. This time, what pained me most was the scene of the Altar of the old church. Empty, vacant, as if the ‘heart’ has ripped out. My church, Which I wanted to visit again and again, stand like a skeleton of the old church.
I saw the most famous painting of the ‘Mukti Amma’ is now framed and placed in front of the new church.
Next time, I may see a green patch in place of the old marvel. My heart weeps.
I saw the most famous painting of the ‘Mukti Amma’ is now framed and placed in front of the new church.
Next time, I may see a green patch in place of the old marvel. My heart weeps.
Sacred heart ripped out
The recent trip to Kerala, I had a prioritised mission. I wanted to watch the ‘Good Friday’ celeberations of Kudamaloor church. I had last participated the programme in 1971, the year I left for Delhi. After that, though I wanted, I could not make it. This time, I had planned my Kerala trip to suit the good Friday. I must confess, the enthusiasm with which I wanted to visit my hometown, especially the key institution of the village, Kudamaloor Church, famous for it’s Good Friday programmes as also for being the birth place(parish) of Saint Alphonsa, could not sustain for long. The Kudamaloor St.Mary’s church was believed to have been built 900 years ago by the then king of the province, Chempakassery Raja. With so many wonderful architectural marvels, the old church in it’s present form might have been built not less than 400 years ago. The icon of the church was the beautiful painting of The Lady with baby Jesus with Kings, placed in the centre of the Alter of the main hall in a huge glass frame meticulously placed to fit in the painting. The church also has stone carvings inscribing some historical tit bits written in a Malayalam script, which the present generation could hardly understand. The stones were placed as floor marbles. With wide huge stone walls, the church hardly needed any cooling. In my last to last visit I had noticed that the floor has been done up with new ‘Rajasthan marbles’ probably to make it look modern. The carved stones were plucked and placed along the wall, as if to make it to speak it’s own age and ethnicity. I feel it would have been beautiful if it had remained where it was already laid. This time, what pained me most was the scene of the Altar of the old church. Empty, vacant, as if the ‘heart’ has ripped out. My church, Which I wanted to visit again and again, stand like a skeleton of the old church.
I saw the most famous painting of the ‘Mukti Amma’ is now framed and placed in front of the new church.
Next time, I may see a green patch in place of the old marvel. My heart weeps.
I saw the most famous painting of the ‘Mukti Amma’ is now framed and placed in front of the new church.
Next time, I may see a green patch in place of the old marvel. My heart weeps.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Richeness means.....
Today, there was a picture of Anil Ambani with marigold flower garland around his neck, standing in front of Tirupati temple, in the front pages of some popular English dailies. Similar pictures were seen of Mukesh, Amitabh Bachan, Abhishek Bachan and A few such newsworthy souls of India. I am sure, they all were there to please the deity who, they believe, will shower them with blessings (of course wealth in billions), for their offer of a few lakhs. Rich Indians, no matter their religion, offer hefty sums to deities of their choice.
A few days back, there was a picture of Mr. Gate who with his extra bills(wealth),(which keep swelling every moment), busy shaking hands with kids in a remote Indian village, for whose, health, education, up-liftment, he spare his extra wealth. His wife also join him in this act of worship.
A few days back, there was a picture of Mr. Gate who with his extra bills(wealth),(which keep swelling every moment), busy shaking hands with kids in a remote Indian village, for whose, health, education, up-liftment, he spare his extra wealth. His wife also join him in this act of worship.
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