Saurab and his drums (Story of Transformation 19)

My cell phone blinked with the notification that it needed some space.

I went through the pictures that I could delete. Going through the old photographs is just like reliving those old days. I stuck on this picture.

Saurav, playing drums on school's annual function of 2072

Saurab, I knew him three years back. He was in his grade six then. A good looking, silent boy, who liked sitting in the last bench. Whatever you would ask, that wouldn't matter much to him. Sometimes I would feel, the wall beside him would speak but Saurab! No, he wouldn't. It was so difficult for me to read his mind. What he was thinking or what he was going through. Every pedagogy says you must touch the life of your student as a teacher. Touching his life was a big goal, I wasn't able to just have a good conversation with him.

****

First term exam was approaching and I was preparing for their speaking tests. I wasn't able to think of any questions that would make Saurab speak. Then, in one of my classes, I realized him beating his desk and smiling. I stared (by the way it was not an angry stare) at him, he stopped beating. I noticed, he has cute smile. I asked him what he was doing, but he didn't speak.

****

Saurab was there just opposite me ready for the speaking test. Since I had seen him beating the desk, I just asked him whether he liked playing drums. I could see him smiling. He nodded to say yes. 

"Can you share something about drums?"

"A drum set is played by a single player with drumstick held in both hands and the feet operating pedals that control the hi-hat cymbal and the beater for the bass drum. ........" 

I guess he learned all that in his music classes, but whatever he was telling it was a very new knowledge for me and a moment of happiness for me as I was listening him speak for the first time. Slowly we had a good rapport. We started talking about drums. He even promised me to teach me playing drums but it was my fault, I couldn't be his good student. But he turned as my good student. Saurab changed drastically. He always used to write about drums. I could see his writing skills improving. The characters of his stories always had a drummer. He used to share about how he learned a new beat. 

He was inspired to come to school and read just because of that drum set. Saurab who used to fail earlier, amazingly he secured 10th position in last session's final exam. He shared that news so enthusiastically. I hope he is improving every single day.

It's already two months I haven't seen him playing his drums but I am sure he must be learning new skills day by day. I can guarantee that some day he would turn out as a best drummer of the nation as he aspires to be. I can't imagine how happy I would be to see him playing his drums among thousands of people with his evergreen cutest smile on his face. 

The Art of Loving

Photo Credit: youqueen

I love flowers.

Roses, Marigolds, Jasmine, Sunflowers.... I love their color, their fragrance. I love their beauty. If you ask me how long I can spend my time in the garden, you would be surprised to know I can be there day and night. When the dew touches their petals, I love watching them as they turn red with shyness. I love seeing them falling in love with the bees. I love listening them humming along with the sound of those noisy insects at night. I love their mad dancing which they generally do in the lights of fireflies. Whenever I see them growing old and withering, I feel sad and pray for their long life. I want them to grow beautiful.

My dad loves flowers.

Roses, Marigolds, Jasmine, Sunflowers.... He scratches all day in the garden. He wakes them up every morning from their deep sleep early in the morning with some healthy breakfast for them. He protects them from weeds. When they grow messy, he trims them and gives them a wonderful look. He knows their strength. When he sees them weak, he tends them with some extra care. For some he arranges crutch. He knows who has grown hungry after their mad dance and who is growing old. He tries as much as he can to protect their beauty and zeal with so much of love and effort.  

Sometimes, I think what if my father would not be there to take care of all that mess of our garden? Yes, it's not enough just to love flowers. One must prepare himself and truly work to grow them. 

Then, I think what if I replace the word 'flower' with 'child'. Will there be some difference? Don't you feeling loving is an art? 

शुुन्यता

शुुन्यताको परिधीभित्र 

एकान्तमा हराउदैछुु

फगत एक जीवन न हो

शुुन्यतामै रमाउदैछुु । 

अजबको उकुुसमुुकुुस

एक्लोपन आफ्नो बनाउदैछुु

खरानी हुने जीवन आखिर

मनको महल जलाउदैछु ।

अचम्मको कोलाहल छ 

मनैमनमा द्धन्द चल्छ, 

जीवन के हो प्रश्न बनाई

मनमस्तीस्क निकै पोल्छ 

अनि... विस्तारै,...विस्तारै...

शुुन्यता फेरी पनि आफ्नो बन्छ ।

गजब छ! यो शुुन्यता पनि!

कहिले अति प्यारो लाग्छ,

अनि कहिले गाहृो, अत्यन्त गाहृो लाग्छ । 

Where the joy resides...

No, I don't remember much. I can't remember numbers. I find difficulty remembering names. Sometimes I remember just the faces while sometimes I remember just the incidents with no names or faces. When my friends share so many interesting incidents of our childhood, I wonder was I there? I feel memories love staying away from me.

I know keeping things in mind is difficult for me, thus I am thankful to Dr. Spencer Silver who attempted to develop a super strong adhesive but accidentally created sticky notes. Yeah! Serendipity. Wow! I remember the theory of serendipity. All thanks to Dr. Rajiv Subba sir. Few months back, I was lucky to be in one of his sessions. Sorry, I don't know the date.

I sometimes, think that I have a withered brain. Nevertheless, even in my shrunken memory there are some beautiful memoirs. I remember the day when my brother was born. I still can feel that joy when I first touched his chubby cheeks. I remember carrying him for the first time. Whenever I see a child crawling, I feel like it is my brother creeping. I still remember our fights for the broken glasses. My brother has grown tall, actually taller, but I still see him a child.

Few days back, we had a big fight.

“Of course, it was his mistake.”...

“Oh! Oh! Sorry. I forgot. It was mine mistake.”

He was expecting a call from me but I forgot to do so.

“Yeah, absolutely, I was busy.”

“He is such a child, what’s so big issue on that?” Yeah! I thought the same. After few minutes of our fight, I was so fresh and lively. I felt that was what I was missing in my life: that reminder that there

is someone who loves me more than any other in this world. He, whom I can rely on, almost for everything. He, who fights with me for so many small things but whenever I am sad, he is the one who is ready to fight with the world for my happiness. I realized I had forgotten to smile. With his
fight, he brought a huge upward curve on my face.

With the endless parade of work, cleaning, cooking, doing assignments, and many other petty and big things, I felt I was starting to live a life forgetting to live. I had ended up caring for my loved ones and myself. I had forgotten leading a happy life; appreciating moments, sharing joys.

Happiness lies in small things. I found happiness fighting with my brother. No, once again, I do not remember the date but yes, I remember our grumbling on the other side of the phones. Yes, I remember to smile.