Grateful By Ketaki S. Vaidya

निर्गुण निर्मोही सब  तूने मोहि बना दिया शून्य गहरे अँधेरे में  प्रेम से दीपक जला दिया।    धागे अब मोह के ये  बंधते ही जा रहे है  दुनिया के पाश में हम  फसते ही जा रहे है।    पर सोचते है ये हम भी  गर एहसास ही ना होता  धरती न प्यारी होती  अम्बर ना गहरा होता।    एहसास है तभी तो  गीत सुनते है तुम्हारे  महकती है सारी बगिया  खिलते है चाँद तारे।    जब दर्द ये मिला है तभी मरहम पता चला है  अंधियारे के बिना तो  वजूद दिये का भी क्या है?   खुलके बरस रहा है  वह प्रेम है तुम्हारा  चाहे प्रकाश कह लो  चाहे कहो ओमकारा।  

"म्हातारी म्हणाली, "चल रे भोपळ्या टुणूक टुणूक"", "उस बरगद के पेड़ के नीचे दादाजी बैठा करते थे", "The wolf said, "I will huff and I will puff" Do these lines sound familiar? Can you imagine your childhood without these stories?  The child is not sleepy. At late night, he/she wants to continue jumping around and continue making noise. Grandma or any adult takes the charge. For the promise of a bed time story, the kid gets ready to put on pajamas and at least sit in the bed. Then the adult starts slowly with the story. The whole mood changes, the magic happens. The bouncy kid suddenly becomes attentive and in few minutes surrenders to the sleep and travels to the dream land.  On the rainy day, kids are not able to have an outdoor recess. The whole class is bored, noisy and in terrible shape. Teachers picks up a book. Tells the students to sit on the rug. Slowly starts reading the first page of the story. The magic happens. The whole cl...

मऊशार तुझी हि वाळू पावलांशी बघे ती खेळू  कशी चमचमते किरणांनी  जणू पृथ्वीवरती तारे  गारुड तुझे हे सारे  उंच तुझे ते माड  आभाळा भिडती द्वाड  झावळ्यांची गूढ ती गीते  नवचैतान्याचे वारे  गारुड तुझे हे सारे  वाऱ्यात  सुखद गारवा  रंग आभाळाचा नवा  श्वासांत भरुनी घावे  अस्तित्व तुझे हे खारे  गारुड तुझे हे सारे   लाटांची तुझीया गाज  जणू चंद्राचा आवाज  होतात तुझ्या स्पर्शाने  अणुरेणू पुलकित कारे  गारुड तुझे हे सारे  दडली किती रहस्ये पोटी  मंथनात दिधल्या भेटी  अजूनही वेचतो आम्ही  शंख, शिंपले, समुद्री तारे  गारुड तुझे हे सारे 

" He is gone," my childhood friend said. We stayed silent for a moment and a small drop of sadness landed in our hearts. We were talking about pimpal (sacred fig) tree, which used to be present in all thick and thins in the wide lane where we spent all our beautiful childhood days. What a tree that was! It was always at the background of the place which we called home, where we played, where we sat on steps and shared our secrets. After monsoon, it used to be full of leaves, blessing us with its presence. It appeared like a guardian, looking after us. I heard that it was a very ancient guy. Though, at the same time it looked so new when he got his new leaves at the dawn of a Spring. It appeared playful when its branches swayed with a gentle breeze. It appeared wild and at times crazy when the wind blew harsher during the rainy, stormy nights. It had many stories to tell. Me and my friend listened to all of it together. Some kids also thought that there was a ghost residing ...