We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves

~ Gautam Buddha

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Out of mundane

Few icons stay in the memory due to their undeniable mark so even the mentioning of their names bring enthusiasm in the tone. Still there are some ordinary that knock the hankering consciousness when the slightest semblance floats in air, smell and sight.

The wet humid air is the trademark of our place, we the favorites of the rain god most of the months bask or rather bath in rain. Reasons are myriad left on reader discretion- when there is coastal storm in Bay of Bengal, or monsoon or just to be with us or surprise us , annoy us or amuse us whatever be the reason rain is here for longest.

Life is a window of experience, when we open it for some fresh air it amazes us with its ever changing frame of memories long happened, long buried. It refuses to go seeking its outlet like a wayward child always loves to have its own way that comes, knocks and gushes out unchecked. Last week the uncalled drizzling again opened the ---.

The day was usual sunny. In the second half the gale started its tantrums trumpeting its might with thunder and lightning and soon the scudding black clouds followed them.

In normal days as a young mother the dramatic exaggeration of weather would impress me with its artistic appeal .I would get instantly in love with everything- the black clouds,the peculiar intense light at the back drop giving impressive hues to vegetations. But that day the tempestuous air fanned my anxiety with a feverish child as her lips were turned pink and swollen due to fever. There was precautionary power cut in the colony and lone land line phone was dead.

A bit tired with long howler of tempestuous weather I had been anticipating a quick relief. Holding my little one to my heart the lashing and wiping of rain seemed hard to me. The surging fever was defying to yield even in that created nip of coastal depression. Her orange lips turned puffy and parched. She mumbled something in half slept state. Standing near the window with racking nerve I had been waiting for my husband's return seeking an instant remedy for the crisis.

A homeopath doctor,famed for the best cure of children at the place was available, we decided to visit him.

The long spells of coastal depression had bathed the plateau region and now in setting dusk the flora was donning the lustrous green hues. My racking nerve had been spent entire evening watching anxiously for some respite for my little one. Soon the hues outside got darkened that matched the gloominess of my inner self.

On that bathed outdoor the rolling wheels stopped infront of the thatched roof clinic. At that time the clinic appeared depressingly dull to my anxiety ridden mind.
In long waiting verandah many people were sitting on the benches kept over there and more were standing for their turns. Waiting for my turn with feverish child in my lap mentally I was discarding everything ordinary over there. A gloom casted out of my ego on the mediocrity of the place but the selfish human instinct forced me to appreciate the therapeutic benefit that was being offered there.

The musty evening was rather cold that day after the long spell of lashing rain. Waiting endlessly with a feverish child in the are made me impatient.I saw out of turn few people were entering the doctor's cabin pretending to check the list of waiting patients. In the queue in front of me an old lady had been waiting with her sick grand child.The boy was squirming in fever and was crying feebly. Her soiled disposition was narrating the worn out hardship of her life.

After viewing the disruption in queue and long wait tempted me I got up from my place with my uneased baby. I was aware it was the turn of that old lady’s grandson. But my motherly instinct went unruly, unable to bear child's suffering for long I decided to enter in the cabin overlooking the frail lady with her ailing grandchild.

Both of us were at the door step of the cabin the old lady and I with our purposes but a strange sight awaited me over there. The doctor in his early thirties was as simple as his clinic, he gestured to me politely but in authoritative tone to sit and wait for my turn. He ushered the old lady to bring the child for checkup.He checked the child earnestly and patiently listened the symptoms then he signaled me to avail my turn.

That day this encounter of me with humanely faces touched my heart. Suddenly the ordinary place seemed unique as a uniqueness of humility was flowing in the air. It was the place where dedication was working ignoring all the trivialities of the material world where most of the time money, status and disposition rule.


  1. the way u walk the readers thru s gr8...
    try leaving a line space between paragraphs...
    also use paragraphs instead of one big para...

    cheers :)

  2. You are a beautiful story teller Arpana but your stories, the emotions you express tend to get lost in the words you use. And agree with Ram, you need to give paragraph breaks for an uncluttered look.

  3. Thanks Ram for your suggestions, i would definitely follow it.

  4. There is point in your suggestion Purba i am too trying to discard unnecessary words that blur the clarity of narration.

  5. Thanks Team G square and Shri Ayyangar for kind words.

  6. Well penned down... Loved it!!