everything happens for a reason … does it?

One day I decided to go on the mountain peak to forget the world, to get away from the nagging bickering family.

I wanted to reject the suffocative fumes of enmity, of mistrust; of accusations rushing from all directions to engulf my soul, to throttle my existence.

I wanted to escape from the crossfire of friends and enemies, arguing about whether I was innocent or guilty.

Why allow them to overpower me with their unreasonable guesstimate?

When I reached the top, there already was a crowd of disgruntled dejected ones camping there, busy turning it into another tower of Babel and hatred.They stood on this small clearing, quarrelling with one another, I didn't know what about.

Disillusioned, I slowly started the descent, to be back to where I started. Some of those who were on the upward journey looked at me with disdain. They must think I am stupid.

I was confused. Should I go up again , or should I continue the descent?

Somewhere in the middle, I looked around for a grass blade. There was no vegetation. It wasn't so when I went this way earlier. What had changed? Green had turned brown. I saw only one tiny and vulnerable sapling behind a rock, as though it was placed there intentionally. I touched it hesitantly. It visibly shrank at my touch as though I was a pariah. I spoke gently, “Hey I am a human being, I won't harm you.” My own voice sounded so viciously loud to my own ears, so false, that the sardonic look of the tiny plant may itself rip me apart.

I trundled down, then I ran , sprinted, became breathless and slid down, tumbling down the precipice.

When I opened my eyes, I saw this gigantic man in uniform looking down at me fiercely. There was a growling dog beside him. He shouted, "Who sent you?"

My mouth was parched and the voice refused to come out , stuck in the throat.

“You must be the spy.”

“No sir, I am not,” I managed to force the voice out of my throat which sounded like the whimper of a dying mouse.

“How come you are on government property when there is an ongoing war, when there are enemies everywhere with armies of viruses and mosquitos… I know they have sent you to distribute them,” the giant screamed, looking menacingly at my withered tiny frame.

“You have to have to be buried or incinerated. You are the enemy of the state.”

“No, I am not. I am an ordinary person who went in search of silence,” I pleaded.

"Silence? You mean you want to get silent weapons to silence us?"

His voice had now reached a crescendo and his eyes looked like burning cinders.

By then, ten of his clones gathered around me and threw me in a dumpster truck.

I propped myself up to the side of the truck and looked up at the sky. It was hazy, there was smoke spewing out of multiple chimneys in the vicinity. The roads were deserted as though they were bombed.

No one on the road. No one in the parks.

There was an eerie silence but for the noise of the engine of the truck.

Where were the people, the crowd, the congested roads with constant honking of racing reckless vehicles, the noise and chatter?

Where was my family?

Why was I longing for the same thing that I ran away from?

Will someone tell me what my crime was?

Lata Prakash
birthdays and more

Yesterday I watched a Marathi serial where children give a surprise birthday party to the mother on her 65th birthday. She is woken up from her sleep; the cake is cut, songs are sung and a garland made of as many chocolates as her age is presented to her.

A few days back a friend of mine was peeved because she had just fallen asleep and was woken up by her enthusiastic family. She expressed happiness that they had taken the trouble but in truth she was upset as she couldn't go back to sleep after that and sleep is precious for the elderly.

Surprise parties and celebrations are a trend amongst the millennials.

This is a western tradition unnecessarily adopted in the last forty odd years promoted by movies and television and is followed blindly by people across India.

Our day is from sunrise to sunset.. So the birthday should be celebrated during daytime before the sun sets. Darkness is considered inauspicious for celebrations. This should be kept in mind especially when it comes to senior citizens!

I had heard this in one of the talks of Mahaperiyava of Kanchi. It is a good idea to let it be known to our children.

Today the old lady in the Marathi serial got admitted to hospital. No wonder.

Lata PrakashComment