Stairs

worn-steps
Sue Vincent’s #Writephoto

At last I am here. Eyes brimming, I look at the stairs, worn by the vagaries of time but flanked with love by Mother Nature. Do you think you could guess my ecstasy? Never. Not even my soul mate could feel the flutter of my heart. Holding hands we look at the steps as I hurtle back in time and he gently embraces me.

“Thank you,” the words are muffled in my throat. I had yearned for this day. Recurring dreams evoked me to come here. We had planned this visit for ages. A visit I would cherish for the rest of my life. A visit that brought me back to my childhood. I am thrilled that the stairs have not been altered, each one holds my steps – tells a story of those carefree days, each one reverberating the games we played – running up and down, skipping two or four – the center of competition for the children of the house, each one a promise to self.

Time flew and exhilarating on the wings of youth, I went up to university and lost touch with those little moments of sitting on the stairs to share stories of the day, to watch stars and sing songs, oblivious of the world.

Grandpa was a youngster when he admired the construction workers while his dad was away at work. He would rush home after school to see how each brick was laid. He had told us all the stories of getting inspired from the workers he observed. He aspired to be like them. The charm of his stories and his loving face was associated with these stairs. A heart-warming memory.

Emotions overwhelm me as I step on the stairs that nurtured me; that gave a spring to my steps and taught me to climb higher. I did but I left them behind. Almost forgot about them. I sit and share many stories that I had buried into the fissures of my heart and realize how tiny moments are more precious than achievements of life – in fact they mold us. A cheerful and free childhood is a blessing.

The blue door opens and children rush out to play games on the stairs. They look at us curiously as if we were blocking their playground. We stand aside and watch – games never change.

© Balroop Singh

Thanks to Sue Vincent for an inspiring Thursday #writephoto prompt Worn

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The Horizon

causeway
Sue Vincent’s #Writephoto

This image reminds me of a real story of two kids who thought that the sky and the earth meet and they would be able to touch the horizon. Everyday they watched in awe and yearned to go there. The day their moms left them in the care of their grandma, they got the opportunity. Holding each other’s hand they walked toward their favorite place. Grandma thought they must be playing with the ducks near the pond. Adventure ran through their blood.

They quickened their pace as the sun shone brighter. They walked and walked, far away to touch the horizon. When moms returned home in the afternoon to discover the missing kids, they were blamed for being careless and irresponsible. A frantic search ensued. Grandma rushed into neighboring houses, hoping the kids must be playing with their friends.

The big news was delivered to Mr. J. Singh, an authoritarian man with haughty demeanor who considered talking to women a waste of time. He was furious and thundered: “These women can’t even take care of two kids!” Only grandma could face his wrath and order him to send men all around the village. No success!

Having realized the gravity of the situation, Mr. Singh took his bike out and told grandma that the kids must have fallen in the canal. Mumbling some obscenities at the women of the house, he drove away to request the local authorities to stop the discharge of water so that the bodies could be retrieved.

Never could anyone imagine the delight at the face of Mr. Singh as he returned home with us, chatting away to glory! Grandma ran to the storehouse to carry round blocks of Gur (jaggery) to be distributed to all those who came to congratulate!

Nobody was interested in their story and who saved them!

Within hours, Mr. autocrat announced: “Catch the morning bus and go back to the city. I’ve had enough of your adventures.” Nobody dare argue with him but we tried. Still our vacation was cut short.

I was one of those kids and the other, my cousin.children-1586249__340

Balroop Singh.

Thanks to Sue Vincent for a lovely Thursday #writephoto Causeway.

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Why Are Birthdays So Special And Emotionally Charged Moments

sleeping2-c-akirahbabe.blogspot.com_Every year there was a day when this girl waited for darkness to descend soon. She also waited for the house to be quiet and then she cried her heart out, silently, to her pillow. The sobs would not subside till she fell asleep.

She knew nobody is going to empathize with her tears, she knew nobody would even ask what was her problem. She had known that for eight years now and she didn’t expect any words of affection.

The sobs of this little girl would have never ceased if the Birthday fairy had not given her the assurances. She caressed her long, soft hair and sat beside her. She told her very softly that there would come a time when people around her would not forget her birthday. She assured her that this day was going to be the happiest day of her life only if she waits a few years.

This childhood fantasy gave great solace to her, assuaged her hurts and raised her hopes.

The first few lessons she learnt were that a girl can never claim to be equal… that birthdays are only for boys…that girls have no right to question certain norms of her society.

But she also learnt to think positive.

She kept her hopes and expectations to herself. She didn’t want to share them in the fear of getting disliked.

Conflicting emotions churned in her heart and mind, trying to balance out.

Seeing seemed more powerful at that impressionable age but she didn’t let those impressions entrench themselves in her. She took an inspiration from the subjugation and discrimination, which stared starkly at her face.

Her promises to herself kept getting firmer with each year. She learnt new lessons with each put down and her resilience grew to unimaginable heights. In fact it became an invincible part of her personality.

At least she had the freedom of thought, she told herself. At least she had the capabilities to distinguish between virtues and vices. At least she had the opportunities of learning, which many around her were deprived of.

All who live in neglect are not that strong, they have the tendency to drift into negative crevices. They learn to accept all the atrocities calmly.

All are not so positive and imaginative to have met the birthday fairies!

For her, birthday was just another day till she met her soul mate.

Were childhood dreams true or was this just another phase of life? – this question often reverberated around her.

Yes, a day did come when there was no dearth of flowers, cards and wishes around her on her birthday.

It followed year after year. Her husband made this day special for her in all the loving ways. Her friends, her students and her children added brilliance with their smiles and wishes.

Birthday was not just another day now. It ushered in new delight, even the sunshine seemed to be special!

Birthday Quote

All this could be possible just because she met an open minded man who let her flower into a luminous personality, who didn’t impose his views on her, who didn’t consider her to be another woman of his era but respected her.

Celebrating birthday of all the children of the house is essential as:

  • It gives them pleasant memories,
  • Makes them sensitive
  • They learn the values of togetherness and love
  • They grow up into cheerful and confident individuals,
  • Happiness of those little moments, which make them the center of attraction, is a learning experience for them,
  • Highlights the importance of self-love

We all cherish childhood memories; clutch them all the more as we grow up; they conjure up those moments of delight when we look at a familiar spot or a child we love… and the childhood yearnings return.

Birthdays are those landmarks, which evoke such memories. Some special emotions are attached to them…love, gratitude, respect, admiration, pride and honor are imbibed effortlessly.

Do you have any such memories, which are difficult to share?

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Balroop Singh.

Image credit: http://princesskaurvaki.com