Every day I take this flight of stairs
I climb fast and tumble down
I gasp , I admire the beauty on the way
But I wonder why I tumble down?
When I see people tagging along
I rejoice that it leads to some new adventure
For some stay and some disappear
But we weave memories along the way
For when we dream , we can be whatever we want
I can be a star , a cloud or the wind
I can be a song or the moonlight
And even the smile that plays on everyone’s lips
I take this flight of stairs
In my dreams , To hinterland
I realize whether I climb up or tumble down
I see a new vista every time.
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The festival of lights is here. And there is such a hullabaloo about the festival . The newspapers , media , social media sites abuzz with sale , designer clothes and materialistic stuff. Not to forget there are celebrities and film stars inviting you to take a peek at their homes and to their designer wardrobe. Do we associate each celebration with how much clothes we buy , how many jewellery sets adorned our body and how cool parties we threw ?
Long back while growing up in the ancestral home at Dhanbad , My grandfather had a brigade of servants working at our hotel and the soap factory which my uncle used to run. Deepawali was the time when he used to buy clothes for all the people who used to work for the businesses run by him . He had a big heart and he will treat all the people working for him as his own children . And that’s the reason everyone used to adore him . He was magnanimous and would lend money to anyone in need.
I remember I and my younger brother used to go to school in a rickshaw . The rickshaw puller was Lakhiram and he was like a hanuman , always ready to do anything for my grandfather. He will wash his clothes , clean his White Ambassador Car . He was the man for every small need he had. But my grandfather always treated him as someone from his own family . We were kids then , mischievous and playing pranks on others. We will always trouble him , pulling his Dhoti , running behind him .
And those days there was no television and no facebook. Everything was real , celebrations were inclusive, bursting crackers , exchanging sweets , getting money from the elders as blessings. The collected money would be pushed inside a Gullak folded and pleated. Lakhiram had a son Naaru and whenever he visited our home , he was treated as a family member . Even awarded money just like us .
Today Naaru is married and works for BCCL ( a public sector company) . His children go to school and Naaru lives a comfortable life , even owning a Car and living life like a Gentleman. Most of the servants who used to work for my Grandfather are owning shops , working and earning a decent life. It is only because he instilled values of Honesty , self respect and the joy of hard work.
This Deepawali I pay my tribute to my Grandfather , for his values and for his memory and for all the things he taught me . As I type this tears swell in my eyes and I miss him dearly . Sometimes growing up is so hard and I wish to be transported in the time machine to be again under his affectionate tutelage.
Love you lots BABA…..
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