Along the way ...1

    A usual crowded evening in mumbai..i was aproaching to Andheri station to return home. Crowds rushing by, making their way through hawkers. I spoted a pirated book seller. Books! an easy bate for me. Couldn't stop falling for it this time as well. Didn't intend to buy really..but why not just shuffle few pages..quench the thirst for printed words. The shuffle ended up in me selecting 3 books to buy. He stated the cost for it which I found bit high for roadside pirated stuff. I was about to make up words to initiate bargain. I like to try my hand at this bargaining skill every time though I don’t remember a single time when it was successful.
    Suddenly the surrounding changed…as if an approaching storm was spotted. The expression of terror in his eyes exhibited his thumping heart. Suddenly I was invisible for him. Other hawker stalls around disappeared within fraction of seconds! A number of policemen appeared all around. With their advent the hawkers disappeared in the manner which reminded me the way other animals drinking at common water, desert the place at arrival of predators! When I realized what was happening I was left all alone with the 3 books in my hand and the heap of books in front of me vanished! I stepped aside, also spotted the book seller winding up things as being on a war front. He had zero intentions to keep an eye on me. “Is this a signal for me to walk away with what I have got without paying? Is this the time when I am going to get return for all the extra money which I have paid before due to the bad bargaining skill?” Finally I approached him, tucked in the amount which I thought was right for the books and just walked away. He still didn’t care to acknowledge my existence!
    I had moved 10 steps away when the voice from behind stopped me, “ Madam, the amount is not full”… “It is the right amount” I was trying to pull in myself back to the preparation of bargaining. “ No madam, please, I can’t accept this less amount..the remaining will be deducted from my salary…” during all this conversation his eyes were still judging the conditions beyond me. Finally I dug into my valet for the remaining change. “ I could have easily gone away without giving you a single rupee. You know that well. I followed you to give you the money. You should consider that and take only the fair amount from me” I said handing over the money to him. “ ऐसा नहीं होता मैडम ...किताब का पैसा लेके कभी कोई जाता नहीं" The deal was over, leaving a deep impression on my mind. I found myself smiling all the way back home. What was that smile for?…for a strange incidence, for the repeated experience of a failed bargaining attempt? Who was the hero of this story? The seller who obtained what he wanted even in a tough condition or me who returned home with the pseudo satisfaction of not taking disadvantage of his critical condition? None of us may be. May be the real winner was the generalised character of book worms portrayed in the society…

celebration time!

celebration in the air...
celebration of art,
celebration of love...celebration of pioneer work,
celebration of readers' thirst...

It's nice to see the world around showered with the reasons to celebrate...at least this time it won't smirk at my mind which celebrates its existance for the sake of celebration.

The first victory story

There once lived a great warrior. Though quite old, he still was able to defeat any challenger. His reputation extended far and wide throughout the land and many students gathered to study under him.


One day an infamous young warrior arrived at the village. He was determined to be the first man to defeat the great master. Along with his strength, he had an uncanny ability to spot and exploit any weakness in an opponent. He would wait for his opponent to make the first move, thus revealing a weakness, and then would strike with merciless force and lightning speed. No one had ever lasted with him in a match beyond the first move.

Much against the advice of his concerned students, the old master gladly accepted the young warrior's challenge. As the two squared off for battle, the young warrior began to hurl insults at the old master. He threw dirt and spit in his face. For hours he verbally assaulted him with every curse and insult known to mankind. But the old warrior merely stood there motionless and calm. Finally, the young warrior exhausted himself. Knowing he was defeated, he left feeling shamed.

Somewhat disappointed that he did not fight the insolent youth, the students gathered around the old master and questioned him. "How could you endure such an indignity? How did you drive him away?"
 "If someone comes to give you a gift and you do not receive it," the master replied, "to whom does the gift belong?"

Victory and defeat are each of the same price.