Story of likeness and trust! Chapter-5
Story series continues.
In about a month's time, every morning at 8 (I.S.T), expect a new story from Artist Address.
This story being published here, is the fifth chapter of a long narrative story written in April 2013.
Next day when I met Devika, she was angry on me, after I scolded a farmer from the hills who was spreading the rumours of ghosts around. Well, we were there for another day and he was enjoying the very rumours. He wasn't seen again around our hotel that day. Then I joked about the farmer himself being a ghost and we let that fear not sit upon our heads any longer. Peace was my purpose and not to make the farmer guy feel bad. I had seen him being more and more encouraged to spread the myth, once people started believing his words. Let it be, he was gone away being frightened for good.
Devika remarked, "You know dear, you yourself feel bad, if you speak to anyone in an angry tone. Think over it!" Sighting my wrath unleashed on the farmer.
Then came that farmer in the evening, who was coming to the hotel to distribute the fruits from the fields and to everyone's amusement; he was guilty of his actions and accepted that he was at fault. I patted him and told him, that it was fine and he should take care of the atmosphere henceforth. Devika kept an eye on my behaviour. Somewhere I did make him feel comfortable and somewhere I wanted to make her feel at par with the celebratory mood. She remarked again, "You know, you are very connected to your soul. You are a connected being. Having said this, I feel you can compare yourself with love, you can define peace and you are attached to the nature of peace."
I tried to answer her but that further ended in asking a question from her,
"Well, what makes you feel so strongly this way? How could you define my intense?"
She was serious in her tone, "I told you Gagan; I am no accountant. I am more of a person who can concentrate on a person's psychology, than his net worth in numerals." She smiled and left.
I was happy that someone looked within my being, something that I had forgotten to do when I was myself stuck in the money game. I said to myself, "You are not at peace and you pretend as if you are fine."
I reached my hotel room, and laying on the bed I closed my eyes. The inner voices screamed at me, as if asking questions, questions which I wanted to answer.
"Gagan, you know; you have chosen an incorrect profession for yourself. You are an emotional guy and you could be an artist. You need not make any big efforts to be so. Your life experiences, your downfalls have well taken out your feelings in the form of sobbing; i.e. your tears, your sadness. In between all these you lay and you have grown with them as a man. You must have been driven by this big world to take up the profession you have continued with, but deep inside you just pretend. You aren't at peace."
I was left speechless. Even the inner voices had resolved. Those voices had said everything they wanted to, but was I listening to them, really? Other than being troubled all the way. I had no words to relieve myself, rather few more tears fell on my cheeks.
Soon I left my room and went to the hall where Devika was sitting. I sat next to her, where she was alone, waiting for her girl friends.
She was silent as I started my speech but she wasn't surprised at all. "Yes, you may be right. But I find no importance or need to talk about what was the past, I can better talk about my future in joy and merriment. I can make it better. You know dear, Devika; I do sing and play the guitar too. I run from this world and seek a place in eternity. Returning from my office, I do practice the songs I know on my guitar. I love to sing."
She smiled and encouraged my acceptance of my love, and she replied to me. "Yes, I knew you would be honest. But what was the need to hide your talent? I heard you the other day on the Mehndi ceremony, when you sang a ghazal, it was phenomenal. After all it was your art, your love."
I told her not to think this much and let things the way they were. But, she made me understand things in return. "Gagan, you got all right to rule your life, to make your own decisions. You can't ever be sure if you will really succeed. The beauty is that you hold on to the faith and give it a try. The problem lies when we think too much and do nothing. Time moves and we need to learn from the past and without being very ambitious just give our best. Things can get better for sure."
We talked a lot more that evening and made sure, we would carry it forward the next day too. Soon, we parted and were busy getting ready for the grand reception at night.
To be continued..
In about a month's time, every morning at 8 (I.S.T), expect a new story from Artist Address.
This story being published here, is the fifth chapter of a long narrative story written in April 2013.
Your views shall be appreciated. Keep following Artist Address, and if you want to share your art work here, then feel free to communicate your ideas, by writing to Artist Address at, (modernite25@gmail.com).
Chapter-1, 2, 3 and 4 can be read at www.gagansvaid.blogspot.in
The journey continues.
V
Chapter-1, 2, 3 and 4 can be read at www.gagansvaid.blogspot.in
The journey continues.
V
I was offensive if I found anyone not obeying one's task in the supposed manner. In childhood I would often point out at the inefficiency that people laid in their tasks just to make their work easier. But the world called them smart people, some were so impressed that they found them street smart. I was not one ever; rather I was the most difficult guy from within. This I say because, I got most failures in my school life, as I went on living by things not the way those came; but my own way. I often took the long way whereas I could have done a work successfully had I been more cautious as to make the best deals. If I learned something then it was for the very joy of learning.
Work as worship is no longer the notion of work; work for money is the new definition of good working culture. Cultures change, these are good from many spheres; but have negative impacts on the freedom too that the youngsters destroy their lives in. They drink excessively in name of stress, disrespect partners, having the freedom to choose any other. Life changes, cultures change and love gets downgraded into bits and pieces. To sense joy is to watch movies, but it's good because our cultural values have become of this. In school few boys and girls gave me the name of Baba Adam; a man who lived in old times. I agreed to their suspicion. I didn't accept the world as it was, so the differences met me. I couldn't change myself; I rather became more open to express what I honestly felt.
Work as worship is no longer the notion of work; work for money is the new definition of good working culture. Cultures change, these are good from many spheres; but have negative impacts on the freedom too that the youngsters destroy their lives in. They drink excessively in name of stress, disrespect partners, having the freedom to choose any other. Life changes, cultures change and love gets downgraded into bits and pieces. To sense joy is to watch movies, but it's good because our cultural values have become of this. In school few boys and girls gave me the name of Baba Adam; a man who lived in old times. I agreed to their suspicion. I didn't accept the world as it was, so the differences met me. I couldn't change myself; I rather became more open to express what I honestly felt.
Next day when I met Devika, she was angry on me, after I scolded a farmer from the hills who was spreading the rumours of ghosts around. Well, we were there for another day and he was enjoying the very rumours. He wasn't seen again around our hotel that day. Then I joked about the farmer himself being a ghost and we let that fear not sit upon our heads any longer. Peace was my purpose and not to make the farmer guy feel bad. I had seen him being more and more encouraged to spread the myth, once people started believing his words. Let it be, he was gone away being frightened for good.
Devika remarked, "You know dear, you yourself feel bad, if you speak to anyone in an angry tone. Think over it!" Sighting my wrath unleashed on the farmer.
Then came that farmer in the evening, who was coming to the hotel to distribute the fruits from the fields and to everyone's amusement; he was guilty of his actions and accepted that he was at fault. I patted him and told him, that it was fine and he should take care of the atmosphere henceforth. Devika kept an eye on my behaviour. Somewhere I did make him feel comfortable and somewhere I wanted to make her feel at par with the celebratory mood. She remarked again, "You know, you are very connected to your soul. You are a connected being. Having said this, I feel you can compare yourself with love, you can define peace and you are attached to the nature of peace."
I tried to answer her but that further ended in asking a question from her,
"Well, what makes you feel so strongly this way? How could you define my intense?"
She was serious in her tone, "I told you Gagan; I am no accountant. I am more of a person who can concentrate on a person's psychology, than his net worth in numerals." She smiled and left.
I was happy that someone looked within my being, something that I had forgotten to do when I was myself stuck in the money game. I said to myself, "You are not at peace and you pretend as if you are fine."
I reached my hotel room, and laying on the bed I closed my eyes. The inner voices screamed at me, as if asking questions, questions which I wanted to answer.
"Gagan, you know; you have chosen an incorrect profession for yourself. You are an emotional guy and you could be an artist. You need not make any big efforts to be so. Your life experiences, your downfalls have well taken out your feelings in the form of sobbing; i.e. your tears, your sadness. In between all these you lay and you have grown with them as a man. You must have been driven by this big world to take up the profession you have continued with, but deep inside you just pretend. You aren't at peace."
I was left speechless. Even the inner voices had resolved. Those voices had said everything they wanted to, but was I listening to them, really? Other than being troubled all the way. I had no words to relieve myself, rather few more tears fell on my cheeks.
Soon I left my room and went to the hall where Devika was sitting. I sat next to her, where she was alone, waiting for her girl friends.
She was silent as I started my speech but she wasn't surprised at all. "Yes, you may be right. But I find no importance or need to talk about what was the past, I can better talk about my future in joy and merriment. I can make it better. You know dear, Devika; I do sing and play the guitar too. I run from this world and seek a place in eternity. Returning from my office, I do practice the songs I know on my guitar. I love to sing."
She smiled and encouraged my acceptance of my love, and she replied to me. "Yes, I knew you would be honest. But what was the need to hide your talent? I heard you the other day on the Mehndi ceremony, when you sang a ghazal, it was phenomenal. After all it was your art, your love."
I told her not to think this much and let things the way they were. But, she made me understand things in return. "Gagan, you got all right to rule your life, to make your own decisions. You can't ever be sure if you will really succeed. The beauty is that you hold on to the faith and give it a try. The problem lies when we think too much and do nothing. Time moves and we need to learn from the past and without being very ambitious just give our best. Things can get better for sure."
We talked a lot more that evening and made sure, we would carry it forward the next day too. Soon, we parted and were busy getting ready for the grand reception at night.
To be continued..
Next in--
(Chapter- 6) At,
Time: 8:00 A.M.
Time: 8:00 A.M.
Date: 16/12/2014
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