My Mother

This was a poem I wrote (9th May, 2005) for her, only for her. She was there with me then. But then she is not with me now in her physical presence, but literally she consists the whole, the entire of my life.

Oh, What a peaceful appearance!

Pleasant personality, brilliant outlook!                  
     Amazing gesture!
Who is she?
She is my Mother.

My mother, the greatest soul,
my heartfelt pride,
she touches my whole soul.

Whenever I call "Maa",
it just echos me "aa".
Oh what a sweet word?
Towards her I just gets attarcted.

Every touch of her,
fills my body with a-
new determination,
and enriches my ambition.

With her every embrace,
my confidence boosts,
revitalizes me for my troubles.

Her presence in my life, just a glance,
brings me in a world of paradise,
A lovely feeling,
that only I can realize.

Even She is what for me,
I can't define.
Just fearing her dis-mission,
What would be my condition?

Seeing her glittering face,
I receive everlasting grace.
Her love for me I can't measure,
in the core of my heart, I can only treasure.

Every encouraging words of her,
I gain a new strength,
to march ahead in my life,
the lonely ferocious way,
uncountable thorns beneath.

She has the power to pluck the luck for me.
The much I express, it will become endless.

I am here in my life due to her,
Without her presence I can't live anymore.

She, a polestar in the stormy days of my life,
without her am just a dead body in live.

I adore Lord with the deepest gratitude,
for creating this undefinable relation,
in world abide.

Great U Mother,
an idol of sacrifice, a symbol of dedication,
examples of patience, perseverance,
an endless source of assurance.


With Love,
Swagatika      

"LOVE"

Love, a sacred feeling,
          a tranquil thought,
          pure dedications,
          willingness to give and give,
          and needs no return.
Like a tender touch of moonlight night,          
        smell of drenched soil,
        soft petals of rose,
        lines of a poet giving hope,
        just a beautiful tale to tell.
Oh, You last witness,
       a sweet suffering,
       remover of stress.
      a desire of first rain,
      a dazzling dawn.
Love, the wealth of a noble heart,
          darling of honesty,                                  
          words of unity,                                    
          steps of development,
          builds of creativity.
The highest definition,
       that crosses all minds,
       all bodily feelings,
       contains soul's grace.
You love, the gross gain,
                the words of dignity,
                calls of eternity,                                                           
                happiest plaza,                                                              
                no sign of harassment, no question of pain.
Love, all in one,
          the heartiest desire,
          bridal fire,
          lamp of evening,
          the temple bell ring.

                                                                                 
A story of forgiveness,
    you teach to believe all, 
    to accept all,
    a world of truthfulness,
    that never ends.
A rarest achievement,
    priceless possession,
    blessings of heaven all around,
    no signs of hale.
The fragrance of love lasts forever,
the holiest approach we wants more and  more.


Love, the most fruitful creation of God, presence of it in one's life, removes all types of poverty and enriches his/her life with the coolest touch of peace.



With much Love,              
Swagatika

Not a Traditional Husband

Before knitting the matter that happened, we have to ponder over the meaning behind the term, "The Traditional Husband". What do you mean by the term? OK, the answer may vary with persons, situations and a lot of other factors. Again traditionalism falls upon the gestures or the behaviors? Complacency or re-activeness? Cooperative or non-cooperative? Let's bring an end to all of these argues. Come to the point, I mean to the story-line. 

      The train was rushing with its highest zest to reach the destination. Seems it was competing with somebody to reach the goal and win the prize. Mrs Mishra and I were enjoying some salted dry fruits and a hot pour of coffee. All the nearby fellow passengers were still enjoying their post lunch nap (for some people travelling in train means sleeping and sleeping and only sleeping). Suddenly Mrs Mishra told me, " your's is not a traditional husband, Mrs Mohapatra," you are so lucky. I smiled at her words obviously with a pride heart. Manoj was near the entrance gate at that time. He is always fond of observing the snaky motion of the train, and the natural beauties zooming past by the side of the track. Again Mrs Mishra added to her gossip, Manoj is so caring to you throughout our journey, its quite visible. He cares for your every needs, even before your expressions. He is so simple at heart dear, quite unlike to a traditional husband material, care for their wives is not a word in those people's dictionary. Also, you two look alike, there so much similarities in both of yopur face. He is definitely a soul mate of yours. You two are just made for each other. He never orders you a thing for his own, never shouts at you. He is always smiling and soft spoken. God bless you both.

  While enjoying the flattering words about my husband, I am here thinking, ya I am the luckiest chap to have him in my life. He is there for everything in my life. To support me, to be my side, to help me in every front of our house hold chores. Even you will not believe, he cares for me just like my mother in my illness. He believes in me at the time when my own confidence betrays me. In short words, a friend, philosopher and guide. I think the more I write about him, the more it seems insufficient to describe him. I am showing my deepest gratitude to the Lord for blessing me with such a complete life partner.

   Hey dear, what are you thinking about? Ya, mmm, no, nothing. He was here, ya Manoj was asking me what was I thinking about. I just smiled at him with all my heart open and he seems to understand every bit of thoughts of mine. Mrs Mishra is just winking at me.

   Here is a pic of  me and my not so traditional Husband.

With Love,

Swagatika

Bank Account

Here is a heart touching story named "Bank Account" that was in my mail today. A story of value, belief and devotions which would definitely teach you the sole importance of relationships in our life. Recently I bagged the opportunity to read, rather engulf the beautiful narrations by Preeti Shenoy, one of my favorite best shelling author, in the form of her 3rd creation, "Tea for two and a piece of cake". How beautifully she narrates about the depth of the relationships that only can be understood after reading it. Divorce the rising monster among our current society, is determined with a vow to destroy all the relations of our society. For the impatient couples, it is mandatory that, they should communicate a lot before taking any drastic steps.

So Read, and I am sure you will definitely bathe in the depth of the story.

Priya married Hitesh this day. At the end of the wedding party, Priya's mother gave her a newly opened bank saving passbook, with Rs.1000 deposit amount.

Mother: Priya, take this passbook. Keep it as a record of your marriage life. When there's something happy and memorable happened in your new life, put some money in. Write down what it's about next to the line. The more memorable the event is, the more money you can put in. I've done the first one for you today. Do the others with Hitesh. When you look back after years, you can know how much happiness you've had.'

Priya shared this with Hitesh when getting home. They both thought it was a great idea and were anxious to know when the second deposit can be made. This was what they did after certain time:
- 7 Feb: Rs.100, first birthday celebration for Hitesh after marriage
- 1 Mar: Rs.300, salary raise for Priya
- 20 Mar: Rs.200, vacation trip to Bali
- 15 Apr: Rs.2000, Priya got pregnant
- 1 Jun: Rs.1000, Hitesh got promoted
.... and so on...

However, after years, they started fighting and arguing for trivial things. They didn't talk much. They regretted that they had married the most nasty people in the world.... no more love...

Kind of typical nowadays, huh?

One day Priya talked to her Mother: 'Mom, we can't stand it anymore. We agree to divorce. I can't imagine how I decided to marry this guy!!!'

Mother: 'Sure, girl, that's no big deal. Just do whatever you want if you really can't stand it. But before that, do one thing first. Remember the saving passbook I gave you on your wedding day? Take out all money and spend it first. You shouldn't keep any record of such a poor marriage.'

Priya thought it was true. So she went to the bank, waiting at the queue and planning to cancel the account. While she was waiting, she took a look at the passbook record. She looked, and looked, and looked.Then the memory of all the previous joy and happiness just came up her mind. Her eyes were then filled with tears. She left and went home.

When she was home, she handed the passbook to Hitesh, asked him to spend the money before getting divorce. The next day, Hitesh gave the passbook back to Priya. She found a new deposit of Rs.5000. And a line next to the record: 'This is the day I notice how much I've loved you through out all these years. How much happiness you've brought me.'

They hugged and cried, putting the passbook back to the safe.

Do you know how much money they had saved when they retired? I did not ask. I believe the money did not matter any more after they had gone through all the good years in their life.

When you fall, in any way, Don't see the place where you fell, Instead see the place from where you slipped. Life is about correcting mistakes.

LOVE IS PRECIOUS! DON'T MISS IT!!