Archive for February, 2009


If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream–and not make dreams your master,
If you can think–and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings–nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And–which is more–you’ll be a Man, my son!

–Rudyard Kipling


Everything is gonna be alright, baby………..

This is a conversation between a Dad and his child:

The train was about to leave the Chennai station.  5 year old Shyam was quietly playing with his Penguin toy that I bought him at the station. I made him sit on my lap and started playing with him.  He looked up suddenly and said, ‘Daddy, when will we see Mommy?’.

‘Mommy will be at the Bangalore station, child. You are going to see her as soon as we reach bangalore’, his dad assured him. He gave a faint smile and got himself engaged in playing with his Penguin again.

‘Daddy, when will I see you again?’, he asked again looking up. My heart sank at the question. How was I going to explain to him that he was not going to see his parents together ever? His dad explained ‘You will come to see me during the summer, sweetu’ and his dad tried to look away, trying to escape the questions in his eyes . He held his dad’s  hand tight and asked, ‘Why?. Why will you not be with me and Mommy in Bangalore?’.

‘Because Daddy and Mommy are not going to live together, child. But you as soon as the summer arrives, you will come to Daddy and we will spend time together. Daddy will take you to the park and you can play on the slides and swings. Daddy will bring you ice cream and chocolates. But first you must be a good boy and spend time with your Mommy.’, his dad said with a heavy heart, trying hard to keep his gaze into the uncertain eyes of the child.

‘Will Mommy come with me to see you then?’
‘No child, Mommy will not see Daddy. You will come alone. Daddy and Mommy will not meet each other.’
‘But why Daddy? Why?’

And a tear rolled down his left cheek. It has always been like this with him. It is always the left eye which gives way to his tears first. And he started sobbing then. Pressing his head against my chest and curling his little arms around me. I did not know how to comfort him . I did not have logical answers to his ‘Whys’. I did not know what went wrong. All I know is Shyam did not deserve this.

I held him tight. Trying to calm him sobbing. The deep humming of the train engine went on in the background.
P.S. – Inspired by a little boy and his father, sitting next to me in one of the Shatabdi trains I took once. The conversation didn’t take place actually. Just a work of fiction.

Tryst with Nature………