Saturday, August 11, 2012

We all touch the world in ways we will never know.....!

It was her Daughter who rescued Veroniica. The older woman had been swept away, drowning in waves of what ifs and what might have beens. Her Daughter Bethany's hand on her shoulder broke the inner turmoil's hold.
"What's wrong Mum ? ", her daughter had asked, the child's eyes seeming to see into her soul.
" Just regrets Loved one ", she told her reaching out to tweak Bethany's sun kissed nose.
" What regrets ", her daughter pushed.
With a sigh her mother relied, " I've always wanted to write stories but never got around to it, I am always too busy with something or someone else."
" Oh Mum ", her daughter began with passion in her voice, " You are always telling stories, its all I hear you do ! Every time anyone in the neighboorhood has a problem you tell them a story and they listen ..... understand ..... and things are fixed or on the mend. All I can ever remember is you tellin' stories. " the serious twelve year old told her.
Smiling, Veronioca looked into Bethany's eyes and then proceeded to hug her.
" Well I suppose I do tell stories, I just always thought I would write them down and I would touch the world. "
"You do touch the world Mum ! Just like when you told James's Mum that story. We all touch the world in ways we will never know. You can't not touch it, you can only choose what kind of touch yours' will be. " What do you do when your daughter throws your own words back at you. You do the only thing possible, hug her close and deep, then tickle her till she screams.
Twelve Years Later Sunshine High School. Written in white chalk and underlined on the blackboard was this morning's english assignment. The Person who most affected my life / my family's life the most. Written neatly underneath was a list of possibilities. Mother, Father, Grand Parents, Aunt, Uncle, Brother, Sister, Cousin or Family Friend.
The young female teacher split the soon to be teenagers into small groups. They quietly worked at their projects till one groups voices rose in squeals of delight.
" Really " said one student.
" Yes, Really. "anothers voice replied.
" Wow." they all said in unison.
The teacher went over and shushed them and the sheepishly returned to their talk at a quieter level.
A week passed and each of the students was asked to give a presentation on the project. The group that had been loud the week before approached the teacher.
" Miss Rown ? "the groups leader began. " Could we all do it as a group ? " indicating the students gathered behind her.
"You see....we are all talking of the same person. " the girl told her excitedly.
Miss Rown replied, "A lot of students have choosen the same family member".
The girl interupted, " No Miss.Rown you don't understand......its not the same family member. We..." she said indicating the others again. " We all chose a family friend, and well you see....each of our family friend turns out to be the same person. "
" Well....." Miss Rown said. " That is exciting, how about you go first.
"As the first child in the group began to speak of the woman her family had known and been infuenced by, Miss.Rown's suspicions began.
Each child told of a woman known to them as The Story Teller who had always helped their families by telling her stories. Miss Rown was now sure. The children spoke of how the woman was a friend of their families and had always solved riddles for them and told them stories that they all treasured. The class erupted in applause and the Teacher had a tear in her eye as the last child spoke her last lines and let them linger in the air.
"Though she always wanted to write her stories we know clearly she lived them. We also know ours and countless others lives are richer for her touch. For it was a loving touch she chose. "
Miss Rown stood up clearing the emotion from her throat. "You all spoke so wonderfully." She told them as the applause died down.
" It's quite amazing that you all know this one wonderful lady and that your lives have been touched by her stories. Whats even more amazing is that the story teller you speak of.....? She took a very deep breath and a very proud Bethany Rown said clearly, " Your Story Teller is my mother. "
-Source Govind Bhagwat from unknown.

14 comments:

amber said...

SIR ILANGO JI good morning

Nilesh Patil said...

Good Morning Master & Friends

durga said...

good morning.sure master,it will never be known .it"a feeling of understanding in the receiver that changes his life.
as i often ,rather always felt about your skill of objectivity during market hours.we can actually extrapolate this objectivity to many life situations also.now that practice has become my passion .good day.

numchar said...

So true ....have experienced so many people have touched my life in positive way and I am indebted for that.

I wonder do I return the same touch back ..? How do I know ? hmmm!!!!

shriram said...

Excellent as always ilango ji !

Am off the grid : annual break for next 2weeks,get the mind refreshed!

Hope to see our Country's nothern most borders & visit some places where our brave soldiers fight more wid the terrain & climate & less wid the enemy...

And, If lucky will get a ride atop a Bactrian Camel :-)

Keep the fire burning guys ..

JAI HIND , JAI GANESH !

sandeep said...

master great write up indeed

Piyush Sharda said...

happy birthday prabhakar

Dinesh Rishi said...

Respected Master and Friendz

Next two weeks I may not be available
as advised by Doctor not to sit in front of screen
due to Lumbar spondylosis.

sometimesbullsometimesbear said...

Shriram wish u a great holiday. Do upload some pix for us.
Dinoo we will pray for ur good health. U will be fit and fine very soon.

SANPOT said...

Ilango sir, thanks for the nice post.
Good Night.

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