About life today.

12/18/13
Life is a roller coaster, so uncertain what will be next. But challenging it  and come out of it is success and can bring happiness. But one should not forget there will always be some rough surface on the path which we have to encounter.
How one can make happy for others while advice coming from leaders as if they are like high priests. That is not lesson for Buddhism I am sure.

The Letter

Dear Nilu

I was ten when I met you and fell in love with you instantly. It was the day I accompanied my grandmother while visiting someone in Kalinagar village in Jiribam India.   You immediately captured my attention. You were so tiny and cute and playful.

             I  still remember on the way to Kalinagar just at the side of the sugar cane field something was going on. We could smell sweet and tingling hitting our nose. Grandmother asked me “ Do you want to drink something sweet?”

            “I don’t know, is it good?”

            “You can try”

            So we turned toward the shade where the villagers were busy making brown sugar from sugarcane juice.   Inside the ditch, logs of woods were kept burning. On top of the fire is the large tin container for boiling the sugarcane juice until it was solidified into Jaggary ( brown colored sugar). The woman who was among those villagers handed me an earthen cup containing the hot sugarcane juice . It was very good. 

            Then when we came toward Tomba’s house that was when we passed your gate and saw you following Moina the girl who just got water from the pond in front of her house. (Moina had the hair cut of a bang on the forehead and on two sides of her cheeks covered  cut to  chin length.  That was the sign those days, in our custom to show that the girl was now of marriageable age.)  Moina just got her pitcher filled with water from the pond and ready to go inside her house, my grandmother called her name.

“Moina , how are you doing?”

Moina turned her face and smiled and answered, “ Oh ---------where are you going to, Aigyabok?” she asked, responding to my grandmother. (Agyabok means grandma with respect)

“Going to Tomba’s house, we’re wondering about that little thing following you?”

“Yes I found it when it was very small and  lost its parents”

“ So cute” I said.

Moina then asked me “ Do you want to have it?” I couldn’t believe my ears.

“Yes, yes” I shouted with excitement and looked at my grandmother anxiously waiting for her response. She seemed surprised at the unexpected outcome. The asked Moina, “What do you feed a squirrel?”

“Give her some corn and nuts, also fruits.”

            Later we came to know Moina the girl who took care of you was to be married soon. So she wanted you to have someone who will take care of you. She put you in your wooden box with some rags in it for you to sleep. You didn’t cry or try to run away. Your fur so soft and fluffy tail, how I enjoyed touching it.  You didn’t mind and played with me.  Since that day you had been my constant companion for nearly one year.

            That was  seven decades ago that I met you and lost you one day without any warning. The terrible day you were crushed under the foot of the 180 lb weight of our dear guest. He was unaware of your habit of following people in the house and he stepped on you accidentally. The shocked moment made me cry for days and I could never forget you.

            This year 2012 during winter months, a couple of squirrels made their nest between the roof and ceiling of our house facing backyard , bringing all the strings from the nylon umbrella which turned into pieces ultimately becoming  their nest. One of the couple always stood looking toward our kitchen expecting some food. Because we had stopped feeding birds and it was mainly their source of food. It stood as if asking us why no bird feeds? We felt pity on it and gave cashew nuts and ground nuts and became its regular waiting schedule sometimes even knocking on the glass door. When Spring came it disappeared suddenly and never came back. I felt sad  again bringing the memory of my beloved Nilu of my childhood days. So it is to let you know that I always miss you and can never forget you, my beloved Nilu.

Your friend, Jamuna

Birth day celebration for Bianca on her 18th birthday Oct 2nd 2013

My sweet lovely grand daughter Bianca's 18th birthday on 2nd October was celebrated with friends and families. It was a fun gathering most of them being from Shillong and Assam. I am so proud of my cute Bianca who is now studying in Toronto University. That was a perfect time for me as I could attend my College graduates alumni and also her birthday.
I still remember the day of her birth just as if happened only yesterday but time passes by so fast It is as if at a blink she has grown so big. God bless her my little one.

RAKCON graduates reunion in Toronto Sept 27-29 2013.

Rajkumari Amritkaur College of Nursing Reunion

Rajkumari Amritkaur  College of Nursing, New Delhi graduates had reunion on September 27 and 28 at Toronto Ontario at the residence of Ms Ushi Choudhuri. About 40 members attended the get together and had our social event in the evening with song and dances from the members. Next day was our formal introduction and getting to know each other, followed by sumptuous lunch. I was the most senior, being a graduate in 1958, Two other members were 1959 grads. The youngest graduate was of 1990. I had presented my books of poetry to Ms Ushi Chouhduri the graceful lady, the hostess of the event as a token of appreciation for her hospitality. Listening to the members about their achievement and success. was really heartwarming.  

Python Under My Grapefruit Tree

The Python under My Grapefruit Tree. (published in Story Circle Network June 2009) It was the summer of 1942 at Jiribam district in Manipur state of North Eastern India when one of the villagers came to inform my father that some men killed and brought a big snake. My father went out to see; then he called us to come out, so my mother, grandmother and I joined the crowd. There lay a creature as if in deep slumber. I, seven year old and scared, stood behind my father looking at it, unable to believe my eyes. I was told that it was a python. It had smooth skin with a brown blotchy pattern. Seven or eight people were standing in a circle. One of the villagers was complaining that he’d lost his goat. He was going to the sugarcane field that crossed the stream bordering the field and backyards of the government quarters. When he saw this big snake he called his friend for help. They decided to contact the police department . Police came and shot it. Herpetologist refer two types of python found in India: rock python, found in all parts of India, and regal python usually found in North Eastern India and Nicobar Islands. Pythons are believed to live in cool, shaded areas near rivulets, coming out only at night to hunt for their pry. I remember it was long, may be, about seven feet, I am not sure which type of python it was. After it was shot, three men from the rivulet pulled out the majestic snake, and laid it undr the shade of my grapefruit tree. As a child the image of the gigantic python remained with me as a scary one. As I grew older, I felt sorry for this beautiful snake with dark brown blotches and smooth skin, a creature that God had created with meticulous hand. It met a terrible tragedy by losing its life because it was hungry and swallowed somebody’s goat. But I was glad it could rest under the shade of my favorite grapefruit and hoped the tree gave peace to its soul.

Silent Dream

Silent Dream On the track leading to life’s destiny The train chained By chattering thoughts Speeds on non-stop. The restless mind crowded with the Wagons of happiness and sorrows Is embedded in exuberant past and present. Those alternate moments of joy and woe Are marked permanently on the pebbled path of life, Its swiftness unconceivable. Even the mighty hands of knowledge and science Cannot slow it down. As it moves on uninterrupted Unaware of the ones, left alone in the desert sand The myriads of the lonely souls Mingled and lost with the whistling wind of obstacles Floats in the air in despair. The heaven and sky shed tears of rain to quell the anguish While mother earth opens her arms. Fleeting images of the hills and plains, And the tunes of the birdsongs Whispering to the moon and sun Give melody to my silent muse. These hovering invisible fleets of thoughts, Run forever on the track of my silent dream.

A Spared Bill

A  Spared Bill

I overhear the clicking of coins

in his hand-held container.

As I approach nearer, he shakes it

more rapidly with a rhythm.

I turn my head to glance,

and see an old man in his tattered cloth,

looking anxiously toward

all those people who pass by.

He catches my attention

with his toothless grin.  

He captures me in his unhidden smile

while I fumble inside my purse.

Alas, the coins are missing.

A dollar bill pops up!

While I drop the bill into his container

it does not make a clicking sound,

but he looks happier in his toothless grin.

March on Timeline

March on Timeline

On the timeline of life’s path

Marching on,  

As fast as a deer

And slow like a snail’s move,

Quiet noise of self

Stirred out into the bowl of peace,

Churned into a buttery compassion

Brave heart stumbles into a wish

Where peace and love be

Found wrapped up in a humble fold.

It is March, another addition to my life’s  

Existence. Today I need to hold on the

Path I have chosen to share happiness

To the world at large.

 So is my choice to march on at any pace given to me.

Bent Creek

Bent Creek

                                                                                                            

My daily walk usually starts from the left side of our lane but today I decide to turn right.  Again I walk up the slight hill, then immediately turn left to cross the small bridge over the creek. A ripple to soft music whispers and lures me.

I can’t help but stall my walk; turn toward the creek and peep through the net fencing. It looks so calm and gentle with a melodious tune of flow. I send my greetings to it and in response the creek giggles though the ripples while it continues its journey. I continue to view it as solemn silence and peace enter me.

The Last Glimpse

The Last Glimpse.

On the deck of the Sapphire Princess

By the Eastern horizon

An enchanted moment of glory

Dreamlike,

The sun casts a a smile of rainbow

A final farewell before its deep plunge

Into the ocean.

The parting, a sad transition

Clouds stands stunned

Ready to shed tears of rain.

Sky’s hue turns ashen

As the smoldering fire of sunshine vanishes

I stand still longing to capture

A glimpse of the rainbow 

Beyond comprehension

Only secluded images of the

Moment of glory remains.

                                         Written by Jamuna Advani on 29th December,2012