Thursday, November 12, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Omnipresnt
In the scent of the mud
Shoaked with first drop of rain,
In the smile of the mother
Just after the labour pain,
In the shining Sun
And in the gloaring moon,
I saw your presence,
I smelt your essence,
Oh God Almighty you are there,
Here, near and everywhere
In the voice of bird
In the song of the field
In the smile of a child
And also in the earth looking like a bride.
Shoaked with first drop of rain,
In the smile of the mother
Just after the labour pain,
In the shining Sun
And in the gloaring moon,
I saw your presence,
I smelt your essence,
Oh God Almighty you are there,
Here, near and everywhere
In the voice of bird
In the song of the field
In the smile of a child
And also in the earth looking like a bride.
Some feelings for God
I love you God,
Not because you are good,
But because you have created the world,
With a mixture of sorrow and pleasure,
Which inspired me to face all the problems
And to stand on my own,
Without having a supporter.
I hate you God,
Only because you created
one Bill Gates and one Laxmi Mittal
And At the same time
You created a lot people,
Without having bread for stomach,
And cloth for body
And who are under BPL.
I pity you God
Because of your lonliness and friendlessness
The rich has no time to spare for you
The poor has no time to share with you
I am neither rich nor a poor
But I don't want to come to you
Still I admire you Oh God!
For your pleasant creation,
The bird, the flowering plant,
The sun, the moon,
Above all the human being
With love and passion.
Not because you are good,
But because you have created the world,
With a mixture of sorrow and pleasure,
Which inspired me to face all the problems
And to stand on my own,
Without having a supporter.
I hate you God,
Only because you created
one Bill Gates and one Laxmi Mittal
And At the same time
You created a lot people,
Without having bread for stomach,
And cloth for body
And who are under BPL.
I pity you God
Because of your lonliness and friendlessness
The rich has no time to spare for you
The poor has no time to share with you
I am neither rich nor a poor
But I don't want to come to you
Still I admire you Oh God!
For your pleasant creation,
The bird, the flowering plant,
The sun, the moon,
Above all the human being
With love and passion.
Mystry behind the door
God!
Where are you?
......... Open the door.
Oh! He might be there--
--Behind the door.
Quickly I opened the door
And peeped out.
None,
But a small little doggie,
Staring with great hunger!
Shaken by pity
Offered some food to eat.
The doggie left happily with a wagging tail.
I kept my search on ....
It was a cold winter,
An old man was there
Behind the door,
Shievering with cold .
Again the pity struck ,
To provide some food and wine,
Covered him with a coat of mine,
And saw him left smiling .
Not finding Him
Left me with a broken heart.
To my utter surprise
Heard someone saying
E.....e.....e..... Why are you disappointed?
The voice was from other side of the door,
"You have just seen me
As a doggie,
And also in the form of the old man."
Where are you?
......... Open the door.
Oh! He might be there--
--Behind the door.
Quickly I opened the door
And peeped out.
None,
But a small little doggie,
Staring with great hunger!
Shaken by pity
Offered some food to eat.
The doggie left happily with a wagging tail.
I kept my search on ....
It was a cold winter,
An old man was there
Behind the door,
Shievering with cold .
Again the pity struck ,
To provide some food and wine,
Covered him with a coat of mine,
And saw him left smiling .
Not finding Him
Left me with a broken heart.
To my utter surprise
Heard someone saying
E.....e.....e..... Why are you disappointed?
The voice was from other side of the door,
"You have just seen me
As a doggie,
And also in the form of the old man."
Saturday, November 7, 2009
HEAVEN’S CHILDREN
The two children Shyam and Preety were not siblings. They had no idea about their parents. When I asked where they came from, they pointed towards the sky. I could not understand. They clarified and told they were from heaven ( the God’s house).
They were in between the age of eight to ten. I had seen them several times in various places. I am a doctor by profession. And I have my own clinic, near the Unit – I market, Bhubaneswar. It was dry summer, when I saw them first. They were busy in collecting polly bags. I was astonished. What would they do with the rejected polly bags? When being asked they told that they would deposit the bags in the factory, where it is recycled and in return the factory owner would give them rupees ten to twenty and with the money they could arrange their dinner. My heart was filled with joy. Yes they the future of my country. They are working to get their bread, in stead of begging (what is common in our country).
At 12 O’ clock when the sun was over our head, I closed the clinic and started my car to home for launch. On the way I remembered that my sister had told me to post her letter. I had forgotten to bring gum. All the shops were closed at that time. I was worried. Suddenly my eyes fell upon a small child near the post office gate. It was sitting back to me. He had some official stationeries like covers, gum, stapler etc. with him. And he was no other than Shyam. Aeeee…eeee what are you doing here and where is Preety? He looked back and smiled. “It is one of our part job Sir” , he said. “Preety is selling handmade butter milk to the people in the market and here I am earning some money by helping others. We have our accounts in this post office, and have already deposited Rs. 5000/- in the account. We will read and will become doctors like you.” My eyes were watered. If all people will have the mentality like the two children, there is no doubt that our country will prosper. He also said “we are in standard fifth and a headmaster of a school is helping us”. After getting my envelop pasted, I gave him one rupee coin (his due). But he denied.
Sir! You are a doctor and you are saving lives. I will not take money from you. But I request you Sir, please do come to our slum, where I am staying, at least once in a week, so that the poor people will be benefited. The boy requested me politely. I could not believe myself. Is it really possible in the earth? Since that day I have been visited the slum at least twice in a week. Actually the two children were heaven’s children. And the slum was a heaven due to these two children. The road was clean and so also the pond near the slum.
Some days passed away. It was the new year day of Oriyas. The two children were on new dresses. They have hats on their heads. It was the time of evening. And the two children were busy in catching fishes from the pond, when I noticed them. There were lot of fishes gathered near the pond and all were caught by them. They would sell some of it and rest of them would have been divided among the habitats of the slum. At 9 O’ clock in the evening when I was back to my house, I saw the two children with a big fish in their hand. It was for me at free of cost, because according to them I was their God. I could not believe myself. My inner conscience cursed me. I have not followed the motto of my profession. I am working for the shake of money. I could not understand, how I was motivated by the two children and came forward to serve the slum dwellers at free of cost. One more surprise was awaiting for me inside my house. My old father told me that the little girl was helped him in getting a railway ticket, standing in a big queue was no other than Preety.
I remembered that some days ago my father was to go to Delhi to visit my younger brother, for which he asked me to bring a ticket for him. But I had no time for such nonsense(?) works. I would have asked the travel agent. But I did not do because of my greediness. And the little girl had not only brought a ticket for my old father, but also did not receive money for this, though it was one of her way to earn money. But……What I am doing? Is it right? I was so deep in my thoughts that I could not sleep.
In the morning my eyes were just closed, when I listened the yelling of the two children. I came out. An old man shaded with blood was with them. They requested me to save the old man. And in return they would give all the savings of them and rest the amount they would give in installments. Now it was the time for me to rectify my mistakes.
I hugged the two children and moved towards the Operation Theatre. At the end when I told that the operation was successful and the hospital would bear all the cost for treatment, I was the God is smiling through the Heaven’s Children.
***
They were in between the age of eight to ten. I had seen them several times in various places. I am a doctor by profession. And I have my own clinic, near the Unit – I market, Bhubaneswar. It was dry summer, when I saw them first. They were busy in collecting polly bags. I was astonished. What would they do with the rejected polly bags? When being asked they told that they would deposit the bags in the factory, where it is recycled and in return the factory owner would give them rupees ten to twenty and with the money they could arrange their dinner. My heart was filled with joy. Yes they the future of my country. They are working to get their bread, in stead of begging (what is common in our country).
At 12 O’ clock when the sun was over our head, I closed the clinic and started my car to home for launch. On the way I remembered that my sister had told me to post her letter. I had forgotten to bring gum. All the shops were closed at that time. I was worried. Suddenly my eyes fell upon a small child near the post office gate. It was sitting back to me. He had some official stationeries like covers, gum, stapler etc. with him. And he was no other than Shyam. Aeeee…eeee what are you doing here and where is Preety? He looked back and smiled. “It is one of our part job Sir” , he said. “Preety is selling handmade butter milk to the people in the market and here I am earning some money by helping others. We have our accounts in this post office, and have already deposited Rs. 5000/- in the account. We will read and will become doctors like you.” My eyes were watered. If all people will have the mentality like the two children, there is no doubt that our country will prosper. He also said “we are in standard fifth and a headmaster of a school is helping us”. After getting my envelop pasted, I gave him one rupee coin (his due). But he denied.
Sir! You are a doctor and you are saving lives. I will not take money from you. But I request you Sir, please do come to our slum, where I am staying, at least once in a week, so that the poor people will be benefited. The boy requested me politely. I could not believe myself. Is it really possible in the earth? Since that day I have been visited the slum at least twice in a week. Actually the two children were heaven’s children. And the slum was a heaven due to these two children. The road was clean and so also the pond near the slum.
Some days passed away. It was the new year day of Oriyas. The two children were on new dresses. They have hats on their heads. It was the time of evening. And the two children were busy in catching fishes from the pond, when I noticed them. There were lot of fishes gathered near the pond and all were caught by them. They would sell some of it and rest of them would have been divided among the habitats of the slum. At 9 O’ clock in the evening when I was back to my house, I saw the two children with a big fish in their hand. It was for me at free of cost, because according to them I was their God. I could not believe myself. My inner conscience cursed me. I have not followed the motto of my profession. I am working for the shake of money. I could not understand, how I was motivated by the two children and came forward to serve the slum dwellers at free of cost. One more surprise was awaiting for me inside my house. My old father told me that the little girl was helped him in getting a railway ticket, standing in a big queue was no other than Preety.
I remembered that some days ago my father was to go to Delhi to visit my younger brother, for which he asked me to bring a ticket for him. But I had no time for such nonsense(?) works. I would have asked the travel agent. But I did not do because of my greediness. And the little girl had not only brought a ticket for my old father, but also did not receive money for this, though it was one of her way to earn money. But……What I am doing? Is it right? I was so deep in my thoughts that I could not sleep.
In the morning my eyes were just closed, when I listened the yelling of the two children. I came out. An old man shaded with blood was with them. They requested me to save the old man. And in return they would give all the savings of them and rest the amount they would give in installments. Now it was the time for me to rectify my mistakes.
I hugged the two children and moved towards the Operation Theatre. At the end when I told that the operation was successful and the hospital would bear all the cost for treatment, I was the God is smiling through the Heaven’s Children.
***
Why I want to write?
It is a difficult question to answer that why I want to write? I don’t think that one is writing, because he/ she want to write. Rather it is a medium of expression of ones feelings, it is a medium to convey your messages of heart and above all it is an in born art. And one, who is having that art, can write. Somebody has told that “Pen is mightier than sword” and that is true. A good writing can change a society, can awake a society and also can format a society. And we have examples of past revolutions in front of our eyes. By strong writings one can raise his/her voice against the undoes of a society. I am writing because I have that in born quality and that spirit, that enthusiasm, what a writer ought to have.
Surendra literature on the back drop of history
Past of the present has its foundation on the present of past and what is not present becomes past in the coming days, a page in history. If ancient history, medieval history and pre and post independence history of India are taken as base, many stories pass through the screen of memory and many characters in the stories come to front. That history contains from truth and on the base of the truth, rests some legend. The so called legends are developed into full fledged literature embracing major and minor characters. That is the special trait of Mr. Surendra Mohanty.
Literature has different divisions consisting of Autobiography, Biography, Short stories, Essays and Novels. To look at these divisions of Oriya literature, would reveal the literary maturity and artful handling of them by this versatile writer.
Rather it can be told that there is no easier and developed medium to recollect history on path of readers other than the writings of Sri Mohanty. Surendra literature has an identity of its own on its mythological and historical background.
Rather it can be told that there is no easier and developed medium to recollect history on path of readers other than the writings of Sri Mohanty. Surendra literature has an identity of its own on its mythological and historical background.
SHORT STORY SECTION
The short stories days back to the emancipation of the Jews under the leadership of Mojes, from the shackles of Egyptian empire, to the rise of Orissan Empire, its history laden with rise and fall, fortune and bad days with rich historical knowledge. The short story collection ‘Kabi O Nartaki’ is based on mythological and historical characters.
BIOGRAPHY
Starting of British occupation of Orissa in 1803, and decline of Orissa nationalism till 1903, the declaration of regeneration and rebirth of it from the platforms of Utkal Sammilani the history of Orissa over a century is epitome in the Biography of Utkal Gourav Madhu Babu ‘Shatabdira Surya’ is unique.
Surendra Mohanty’s autobiography ‘Patha o Pruthibi’ discloses the declining trend of values and morals of the post political landscape of India as well as Orissa.
NOVELS
His milestone creations ‘Neela Saila’, ‘Neeladri Bijaya’, ‘Krishnabenire Sandhya’ on the background of 16th century history of Orissa Gajapati kingdom give inklings of Orissa history, its achievement and subsequent disintegration which revolves round the great lord Jagannath. On the other hand, his novels ‘Andha Diganta’, ‘Neti Neti’ on the back drop of British rule, pre and post independent Orissa highlights the ups and downs in political and social life.
Be it a case of flood or famine, where individuals are treated like pawns on the political chess board, his writings represents the soul of oppressed, mute individuals, their silent protest on established moorings of society and indifferent bureaucracy. His literature had the echoes of unfulfilled dreams, aspirations, frustrations of the common man as its background and foundation.
This will offer an interesting subject to be looked into and to be researched.
Surendra Mohanty’s autobiography ‘Patha o Pruthibi’ discloses the declining trend of values and morals of the post political landscape of India as well as Orissa.
NOVELS
His milestone creations ‘Neela Saila’, ‘Neeladri Bijaya’, ‘Krishnabenire Sandhya’ on the background of 16th century history of Orissa Gajapati kingdom give inklings of Orissa history, its achievement and subsequent disintegration which revolves round the great lord Jagannath. On the other hand, his novels ‘Andha Diganta’, ‘Neti Neti’ on the back drop of British rule, pre and post independent Orissa highlights the ups and downs in political and social life.
Be it a case of flood or famine, where individuals are treated like pawns on the political chess board, his writings represents the soul of oppressed, mute individuals, their silent protest on established moorings of society and indifferent bureaucracy. His literature had the echoes of unfulfilled dreams, aspirations, frustrations of the common man as its background and foundation.
This will offer an interesting subject to be looked into and to be researched.
The fate of the writers
Recently I have gone through an Oriya Magazine (monthly). In the rules and regulation column, it is written that priority of publishing articles should be given those writers, who are the subscribers of the magazine. That means quality of the article has no value. On the other hand, the writers, whose articles are published, should get a free copy as complement. But the rules imply that the writers have to pay for the free copy. The editor has also forgotten about the payment to the writer. So, how can one make writing his/her profession?
Provision of toilets in D.M.Us (local trains)
Some days before, a person who is known to me was died in an accident. He was going to Bhubaneswar from Berhampur. It is a three and half an hour journey. He was getting down for urinal, as there is no urinal in such trains. One the other hand such trains used to stop only 2 to 3 minutes at the stations. While trying to get into the just running train, he slipped down and died. Most of these local trains are long route trains like Visakhapatna to Paradeep, Berhampur to Bhadrak, Khallikote to Bhadrak, without having any urinal. That is why these types of accidents occur everyday. So, there should be provision of toilets in local trains to avoid this type of accidents.
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