I have lived in a hostel since childhood. When I was younger, I would often hear my peers and hostel mates blame the administration for some failure - bad rooms, intermittent water, power cuts, mismanagement, etc. The administration consisted of some from the school administration and some elected members - who were elected by the students from amongst themselves. It was a belief that the administration has a responsibility to provide our needs, and since we have voted them to and pay our fees regularly (well, then only about 4% of the students would have the right to complain - the others were exempted from paying the fees for various reasons, or some who manipulated their financial condition to fit within the exemptions, and some who simply did not pay the fees), they have to be our caretakers. Hence, speaking against the hostel administration was normal, and widely acceptable. The administration, on the other hand, would not act against everyone who speaks against it. Maybe, dissen...
A mother gives birth to us. All our life, with the blessings of Goddess Saraswati we yearn to get the blessings of Goddess Lakshmi so that Goddess Annapurna favours us. The beauty of ‘Mother’ nature always appeals more than the best of technological comfort. A woman is the vehicle for humans from heaven to earth. Sadly, forgetting the debt of the umbilical chord, a man starts overpowering women as he grows. This is akin to a child playing langadi. While the child balances and hops on one leg, the other leg is comfortably forgotten. But after some distance, both legs are necessary for comfortable walking. Similarly, the role of women is conveniently ignored in society thereby losing an imperative balance. What may have started as a sign of respect to the so called ‘fairer sex’, many actions soon assumed an authoritarian aspect and slowly graduated to superstitions. The easing of strenuous activities like climbing long innumerable stairs of temples or cooking in unventilated hot kitc...
Ashok’s mother was looking at his sketch of a clinic that he wanted to open in his village. As she flipped the pages of his blue diary, she read about his struggles, about the beautiful moments of his life, about his dreams and plans. She read about his desires to sacrifice the comforts of life and work as a doctor in his village. One page mentioned his plans to combine the knowledge of ancient Indian medical science and modern medicine to provide holistic healing to villagers in a sustainable and cost-effective way. As pages turned, the diary started getting wetter with her tears. Who will fulfil these plans now? Will these dreams always remain a dream? Will her son be satisfied with the work he has done so far? She was proud of her son, but would he be satisfied with what he could do? She remembered looking at him as she held her baby for the first time. She looked back at his efforts and work to help the sick. She was anxious when her yo...
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