Right Write

                     When I first came to this strange world And desperately cried to wriggle out, You held me hugging to your heart; I love you. When as a child, I played mischiefs And everyone mistook them for notoriety, You bore them with merciful smile; I thank you. When in school, I had volumes to toil on my table And the pressure just grew unbearable, You sat by me night after night tending my nerves; I respect you. When for days I was down with illness And the blinding pain wreaked dire despair, You were the soothing balm; I prostrate you. When as an adult, I tossed on cross-roads Unable to decide and direct my course, You stood steady to steer me through; I revere you. When I grew responsible and old And, at your expense, engrossed with family, You still held my hand like a child; I admire you. When Time beckoned from far beyond And on the final journey, you set out your sail, Your smile still serene and blis

As I walk down the path of life, Make me, O Lord, feel The wild thorns that grow along, Make me struggle and stumble, Make me, O Lord, bleed. That I may lend a helping hand, A word of love, a smile To help a staggering soul along Cross a weary mile. That I may live to love And cause the sun to shine Everywhere I go. That I may smile off Every heart’s gloom, Rob the thorns of pain And cause the roses to bloom. As I walk down the path of life, Bless me, O Lord, With ennobling sufferings That I may serve Thee more.

Alone, alone, all alone, Alone in the wide, wide world, Alone in the din, Alone in the bustling crowd, Alone all abound. Let the cavalcade pass by Loaded with fun and frolic, Roars of laughter, Peels of revelry, As on the side lines I stand stark and stoic. Should I then be lonely?... Deep down the abyss, The ripples of emptiness, Let me, o Lord, hear Thee. Let me feel Thy ineffable presence. In my vivacious void, In ecstasy of exuberant yearning, Let me love Thy gracious glory. Alone but not lonely, Aloud in endless quietude Let me then pray Thee And one with Thyself be.                                                                                       11/2017

                                                11 August 2016. I was then Additional Commissioner, ESI Corporation at its Hqrs Office, New Delhi. I had gone to Dwarka with the Director General in connection with a meeting. At 4.00 pm evening, we checked in to Hotel Dwarkadheesh on the sea beach where the meeting was scheduled the next day. My room was commanding a wonderful view of the sea. Post tea, with two local officers I set out on a stroll that led us to the famed Dwarkadheesh temple. Legend has it that after the Mahabharata war Lord Krishna had spent his later life at Dwarka, a fact testamented by this temple. On return from temple, as we were just entering the hotel gate, my cell phone rang. It was from my brother at Bhubaneswar. In an alarming tone he said “Mother is serious. She needs be taken to hospital immediately. Could you arrange something through ESI?” I spoke to my colleagues at the Bhubaneswar office and asked my brother to consult them and get her admitte

                                         One remembers the powerful reminiscence of her romantic youth by Mrs. Rose played by Kate Winslet with the help of a sapphire locket in the film ‘Titanic’. The locket helps her retrace her love life beset in the back-drop of an epical ship wreck. I have no memorabilia to fall back upon. My memory thrives on its own strength. It was a hot summer afternoon. The university had closed for the vacation. So I ventured out with my girl- friend to a nearby village. About three kilometres from the campus, through undulating verdant pastures, nestled in a dense mangrove at the foothill of Barpahar, Mahua was an ideal picnic spot. As we reached the outskirts of the village we were greeted by heavily laden mango trees, their branches swaying in gentle breeze while warbling cuckoos set music in the air. At the head of the sleepy hamlet, which apparently had a cluster of about twenty cottages, was a humble little thatched house. I knocked at its doo

                                         “Hello…”I waited for reply. No response. After some painful seconds, I shouted into the mouthpiece, “It is me, Kalyan”. The silence lingered. I grew restless. As the agonising moments ticked by, several questions crowded my mind. Would she or wouldn’t she approve of my obtaining the phone number from Swapna,  held the number a well-guarded secret. On many occasions earlier she had never heeded to my pleadings to part with Enee’s number. Until yesterday…I can’t reason out why. Thirty long years…My mind drifted back again. After doing schooling from two different places, destiny drew us together as Enee and I joined Science College at Rourkela for our Inter Science and as luck would have it, we were not only front door neighbours but also got into the same group for lab practicals.  From the window glances at home to cycling together to college to practical lab sessions, our closeness grew. So much so, our separation during graduation, a