The Idea Of Happiness

                                                                           

    By Arjun Bhojane

       

 "Happiness is not a thing to achieve, it is a thing to feel"       Arjun Bhojane
             
                In our life we are always busy to find out the happiness in different things with different ways. These things most probably should not mean always big in size and shape. Like house, property, bank balance etc but it may be smile on the face of innocent kids, feeding one bite to an orphan, donating one coin to the needy, caring and sharing with others can also give us tremendous joy and happiness in life.
              Happiness is like a perfume; if you spread it on others, you will also get a few drops on yourself. If you make others smile then your face also get smile automatically. Happiness and success both are important in life. If we get success in life, we gain happiness but to gain the happiness, success is not always required.
              Happiness is something that comes into our lives through different ways and enters into our heart. As blood circulates in our body through veins, happiness also spreads in our life. Happiness and breath play the same role in our lives. We can feel both but can't see. When we see the difference between these two, we can share our own happiness with others but breath can't.
             Breathing makes an individual alive. Happiness makes millions of life...

         
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Make Your Own Way

                               By Arjun Bhojane

                                                                                If no one trusts in you
But you have to,
 Everyone may raise doubts in you
 But you shouldn't



      


The path of life slides slowly;
Like sand through your fingers,                                     
Life becomes darker than night
But you have to fight









        You must show to the people;
       You are not a stone of untravelled road,
       But rolling stone of the path
  And will be milestone for others.


         
           
Others may make your thorny way;
But you must have a hope of ray,
You have to find your way                  
If not, make your own way.                                                 
                                                                                                
                               


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Who is Illiterate Father Or Son?

                                              By Arjun Bhojane

             
           

                      My native place 'Ekdara' a tiny village located in Nanded district of Maharashtra state. All the villagers do farming only. As they don't have other source to run their livelihoods. They have to fertile land but lack behind in proper water harvesting management.  A very tall, bald headed, having long moustache, dark complex, white turban, gruff voiced and quite respectable man in the village, Govindrao, my father, son of motherland.
               He is in his 70's now but still wakes up at 4:00 am and go to field to water the crops and fetch the milk from cattle. My father though he was illiterate but very well knowledgeable person. I was really amazed when he talked about Indian politics, government policies, finiancial planning, agricultural planning, calculation of maths on his fingers, weather prediction, Indian festivals, rituals and many more things. I am post graduate but don't have  even 20% of his knowledge.
             I remembered an incident, when I was in hostel in district place. On the weekend I went to my native place, it was harvesting time my father asked me to calculate, how much expenditure and benefit we got from the crops  for that year, I was searching calculator to do it but before that he told me answer. Really I felt very small how he could do it so easily, even he had not attended school.
            Politics was his favorite topic to talk on.  As if he could be the member of Parliament and  presenting his view with minute details. Few years back when it was time of Polling of Maharashtra Assembly. Many political leaders and their followers visited to our village. In front of 'Hanumana' temple  our village has big open ground where all the villagers used to assemble for general gathering or festival time of village. As it would be announced through loudspeaker of temple, it was quite every political leader was convincing to villagers, how their party could be suitable to be elected.
                 Most of the villagers were very happy this time because they would get money and liquor for voting, night time party in the farm of Sarpanch of the village. Even my father was also called for party but he denied as usual . He always told to the villagers, 'If you want our village should get basic facilities, water and light for farming and proper education for children in village, then villagers ought to stop such malpractices in the village'.
           When I was in the 7th class at village school. History teacher taught us lesson on 'Indian Festivals' where he narrated about Holi, Diwali, Pola, Vijayadashmi etc. I asked my father about Pola festival so he gave me detail information about it.  As he said, it is a special festival in Maharashtra where all the farmers worship bulls on this day. On this special day farmers give bath to the bulls, decorate them with ornaments and their horns are painted with different colors. Bulls given royal treatment, they are worshiped in front of Hanumana temple of village and farmers showed their gratitude  towards bulls(Baliraja).
                 This is how my illiterate father always literates me with his knowledge and wisdom. He learnt all lessons from life experiences. His depth of knowledge, sense of timing, state forwardness and many more things, that I have to learn from him. I have read many books, completed B.A., M.A. Degrees but still lack of that perseverance and potential like my father. Then I questioned myself, who is illiterate father or son?
 
                       
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Once Upon A Time In Childhood

   
                                         
                                          By Arjun Bhojane


             

                              I came from the office in the evening around 6:30 pm. As I entered into the gate and I rang the doorbell once, twice but no one responded. Again I  tried it.
"Wait coming." Ramu kaka hurriedly opened the door.
'Why so late kaka'? I asked him with tiresome face.
'I was busy in the kitchen, Saheb' he answered.
Where are the others? I asked.
All are at home, in their rooms, they must be busy.  I kept office bag on the sofa in the living room and went to my room for getting fresh.
              Radha, my wife was fond of painting. Our home was full of her paintings . She gave me tea and some snacks.
Where are the kids? I asked her.
'They are playing in their rooms.' She replied.
I went to Menu's room.
Menu, my daughter, 7 years old, was playing game on iPad while lying on her bed.
              Next to her it's big coloured teddy bear was kept in the corner. Different toyes kept in the wardrobe, her tiny cycle stood in another corner, untouched for many days.  On her right side, one painting was hung on the wall in which some kids were playing 'Lagori' popular game of kids once upon a time in childhood.
              I remembered the days of my childhood when my school used to get over in the afteroom everyday. I would go to the farm with my friends playing 'bicycle tyre.' We had competition who would play tyre as long as for the day, would be the winner, as a reward he would get the lots of berries from the tree.
             Once upon a time in childhood we played glass marbles/Goti, where my friend Raghu was most of the time winner and he took all the marbles in his pocket of half pant. We were eagerly waited for summer holidays. Once our school shut for vacation. We went to our grandmother's home when we went to swim into the river every for hours and hours.  In the afternoon we would play 'Gilli-danda', hide-and-seek or 'Vish-Amrit' but playing kite on the terrace was my favorite.
             Suddenly my mobile rang and broke my childhood memories.
'Oh! papa, when did you come? Meenu asked me.
'Just now, dear' I responded.
             I sat next to Meenu and she started telling me, curiously how she had completed the final round of the game and her proud feeling of winner. As if It was a great achievement for her. But my mind was questioning to myself.
'Is this same childhood I had?
Don't you think that touch screen and internet snatched their innocent childhood? These children may have bright future but no childhood at all.


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'History Runs In Cycle'

                       
                                         

                              By Arjun Bhojane

              Today's world is the world of science and technology, now a day everything we do online we buy and sell things, do office work, home work even order the groceries and food also  just using the our fingers rather tapping our fingers on the smart phones. Do we really becoming a smart enough ?
            My grandfather who was almost in his 80's laughed at me while I was opening the lock of smart phone with thumb print.
He said, " Why are you showing thumb to your mobile?
Is it any paper or document ?"
Are you selling your phone to someone ?
I was confused, so I asked him,
" I don't understand grandpa "
           Then he explained me about thumb print.
In our time, when we want to sell a piece of land, house to someone we used to give thumb print on some paper. Then he asked me again , 'Why are you showing your thumb to your mobile?  As usual I answered,
 ' To open the lock'.
His funny reply to me, 'Was your phone illiterate to put on the thumb?
We both laughed.
           Door bell rang, I went to open the door, that's my mother returning from the office.
"Hello mother" I said.
"why it took time to open the door?" she asked.
'Oh! Mother', I was just talking to grandpa.
It's ok, then, she uttered.
Grandpa was watching the TV news, where he saw how a company manager cut the salary of staff for punching late on biometric machine in the office.
Then he asked to my mother, ' what is biomertic machine?'
              Mother narrated him, it's a machine where every employees must give their thumb print for attendance for the day.
"Thumb print !" grandpa asked surprisingly.
'Yes' said mother.
'They don't have office note book for attendance.'
'No' said mother.
It's 21st century everything is online now. Its paperless, cashless and faceless -Digital India.
             Grandfather curiously asked, 'But still you have to follow our old time method of 'Thumb' for doing work'. Even though you are well educated people.
I think grandpa's opinion partially true. And mother had no answer for him.
It's like new wine in old bottle. History repeats itself after sometime.
             Now a day new generation is using torn and worn out jeans under the name of fashion where it was old time in villages people  would use stitched clothes due to insufficient money.
            In the marriages now a day bridegroom wears   Kolhapuri Chappals,shoes, put on Dhoti and wrap 'Pheta' to the head as fashion and prestige. But all these things are the part and parcel of human history. Don't you think so?
Aren't we moving around the our history?
As the Sun revolves around the Earth.
           I remembered the lines of Irish poet W.B. Yeats of his poem. I quote
        "Turning and turning
           in a widening gyre
           The falcon cannot
           Hear the falconer"
                                  ('The Second Coming')
In the first two lines he asserted, history runs in cycles frequently in our life.
                       
                                                                   
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