Enthralling Trails

In my daughter's eyes I am a hero , I am strong and wise and I know no fear ―   Martina Mcbride Abhi was around three years old when he lost his mother. He had a younger sister Preethi who was a year old then. His father Madhuresh Pa ndey found it hard to come to terms, but the best resolution was to get married to take good care of Abhi. Thus young Rajbalaa became Abhi’s new mother within three mont hs of the loss. Abhi belonged to Gopalganj in Bihar which is one of the administrative districts in the state of Bihar . Abhi  and Preethi were left with their grandparents till they began proper schooling. Abhi spoke Bhojpuri fluently, though Bihar is a state that originated from a school of  languages, people say the dialect is  a mixture of Bhojpuri, Hindi, Urdu and many more languages. Abhi’s grandparents had a large piece of land which was cultivated painstakingly to grow the basic necessities for the family. They bestowed the values of humility, frugality, love

 “If you really want to eat, keep climbing. The fruits are on the top of the tree. Stretch your hands and keep stretching them. Success is at the top, keep going.”   ―   Israelmore Ayivor Badarika was a chubby little girl who resembled the Jujube fruit in the garden.  She was the healthy and well nourished daughter of Baltishn and Balamani. Balamani was ind eed a jewel in Bali tshn’s life as she was soft spoken, poised, organised and able. She loved her role of a homemaker in Baltishn’s life which was carried out with utmost sincerity. The couple belonged to Odisha, but had moved to Dornala in Andhra Pradesh in search of a job. Luckily Baltishn landed a job in this remote village which was near Srisailam, a tourist spot. Once when the young couple had gone to Srisailam, Balamani had the opportunity of eating the Jujube fruit. She stored the seeds carefully in her saree and planted it at Dornala. She was blessed with a baby girl that year and Balamani named her Badarika as the

“Listen to the trees as they sway in the wind . Their leaves are telling secrets. Their bark sings songs of olden days as it grows around the trunks. And their roots give names to all things . Their language has been lost . But not the gestures.”   ―   Vera Nazarian Raju looked at the leaves deeply. The leaves had shrivelled, yet the distinct halves were visible. Sita had shoved the wrinkled leaves in his hands in the customary manner, saying that it was gold, ‘ Sonaacha pata ’. Normally, the gold is returned back to the person wishing prosperity, but Sita had thrust a leaf in Raju’s hand  as  a souvenir.  This was  a bullion for little Raju as the Aapti tree at the boundary wall was more than his friend. He had seen the tree for the first time at Anshul’s house. It was close to the compound wall near the entrance gateway. The tree was a huge one with many leaves and thorns and tiny, delicate pink and white flowers.  The branches bent down to welcome people, and many times

Guppy was a Shark pup, it was born akin to a dog pup from the stomach of Helena the shark. Helena wasn’t overjoyed to  have Guppy as her Shark pup, because  it was one of the many Shark pups she  had borne. She had sometimes seen her whole spawn of eggs eaten by whales or other large fishes in the ocean  in spite of the care taken. It taught her lessons of detachment and  mysticism. Guppy was sensitive and loved the other shark pups. Within days of its birth, it saw the whole family disperse in their own ways, but Guppy held on to the seaweeds. It loved the fishes here, the place was a muddle of marine and freshwater fishes due to the concoction of  river water and sea water. It was a congregation of Cuttlefish, Eel, Catla, Snubnose Dart, Dolphin, flying fish, Crab, Herring, Jew fish, and many more, but Guppy loved the magnificence of the blue whale. The blue whale had kind eyes, but Guppy had blinds that could be drawn on its eyes when it slept. One of those days, as it

“ He who has conquered his own coward spirit has conquered the whole outward world - Thomas Hughes   It was  late  in the evening, in the month of September, the month when  festivities  begin with a charm  for  Lord Ganesha, it drew  little Chetan closer to the Lord just  as the happiness felt  in  the spring.  The festival brought gaiety, it preceded other festivals like Navratras, Dusshera and Diwali.  Every nook and corner had a Shamiyana, and a name attached to the locale. The customs and traditions during the celebration differs from  place to place. While  the people in Andhra Pradesh take a pride in revealing the beautiful idol of Lord Ganesha, in Maharashtra the idol is brought blindfolded  with a figment of mystery for the Lord and his followers. In South India the idol is placed snugly in a shopping bag, while in Maharashtra the idol is seated on a raised platform. The crowd utters numerous chants  in triads  appreciating the blessings of  Lord Ganesha. Children are

Nationalism is a shared feeling of being one in spite of the  odds in a society like poverty, creed, beliefs, social and economic conditions. Nationalism is well preached  as patriotism well before elections prioritizing  a secular spirit, sovereignty and fairness to bond people. Who would prefer not to be a Nationalist in a country like India , which is known for its rich heritage and ethnicity at the brink of the trustworthiness of people.   Rekha sat down and rested her back to the wall of the railing, cold wind gushed through the openings making her shiver, and  she felt clumsier than ever in the uniform given by the educational institution.  She yearned for the warmth of her saree. She bent to  have a look at herself, she was wearing the hard leather like, boys shoes,  a navy blue pant and a striped shirt. It was the uniform of the institution where she worked. The dress was introduced as a mark of respect, and to make the maids look modern and well-groomed to suit the envi