Enthralling Trails

“Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.”―   Mahatma Gandhi It was a cold day, the tempe rature  seemed dipping each day to make us shiver. The green foggy expanse at the  University of P u n e made us aware of the wintry afternoon. The English Department was cold that afternoon, both literally and symbolically. It was just after lunch time, the clerks were slowly regaining their composure. A few were yet to come back to their seats while a few others were with the Head of the Department. I wanted to meet the Head to inquire a few things but he was busy attending to many others. I stood to look around patiently as there seemed nothing much to do. The office has a glass barrie r like the banks with a wooden board jutting out for students to use it as a support to write. There is a cane sofa in the corner near the door. The doors  were wide  open and the chill could be felt as the room faced an open courtyard. I saw her come in sniffing, she wa

“All the statistics in the world can't measure the warmth of a smile”   ―   Chris Hart She saw the pictures of the assassinator in the newspaper. The news said that a teacher was burnt alive to terrorise the students and then the students were shot dead. The terrorists looked like any other young person she had seen. They looked straight into peoples’ eyes as there was no fear, just unpleasantness. Perhaps their eyes gave away the nastiness they bore. As she peered closer she saw him standing third, in the center stood he, he was none other than her adorable son.  How handsome yet so ugly. A sob escaped through her mouth. Where did she go wrong? How painful it was to watch her little one thus. Little was he? He was a full grown adult but for her he was her ‘cheeko’. As she mused she recollected the day he was born. It was a bright morning when this lovely child made way into the world. He was fair and divine looking.  People congratulated her saying that he would remain her

“Don’t let mental blocks control you. Set yourself free. Confront your fear and turn the mental blocks into building blocks.”   ―   Roopleen ,   After thirty odd years, I met a few of my childhood classmates. After we exchanged a few pleasantries I had the opportunity of seeing the pictures of their recent visit to our school ‘Kendriya Vidyalayas Golconda No1’. All Kendriya Vidyalaya look alike maybe due to the layout. I had taught in one of the KVs at Pune for more than a year. Each day I would be hurled back into the past when I would hear the prayer ‘Asthoma Sadgamaya…….. Twelve years in a school is a long time. The pictures of my classmates included their banter with our childhood teachers who have grown old but remain pleasing. My classmates showed me my first form teacher, the art teacher and many others.   Looking at my art teacher Mr B.A. Reddy a torrent of memories arose. I recollected the art period in the school which was a lovable brea k during the hectic schedul