I recently went on a school exchange programme to Ahmedabad.  On this trip, I was fortunate enough and honoured beyond words to visit the Gandhi Ashram. The ashram remains untouched, a monumental edifice not in its architectural greatness. The grandiosity is that of the humble man who lived in it, serenely spinning yarn by the banks of the quiet Sabarmati and inspiring a whole nation to non violently fight for their basic human rights. The place is quite uncared for, understandably, barely surviving in the hands of menial government funding. Yet, every hair on my body stood on end walking through the dusty lanes and decently maintained rooms remembering the great dialogues and deliberations and the great wheels of fortune that rolled in this humble and sacred environment, leading to one of history’s greatest revolution fought with will power and the arms of the mind.

 

There was no guide to show you around, thankfully in a way! The place was completely open to any kind of visitor and I wasn’t surprised to see a local school, (probably and I am praying that that is why they were there, with a greater mission of exposing their kids to such a great idea as the ashram) having what seemed more like a picnic by the concrete steps under the beautiful tress that whisper a thousand words. Children ran amok in gay abandon least aware of where they had come. A few displays in the exhibits, the room had nobody but me, even had the glass cracked!! A book store seemed to attract some visitors and it was heart warming to read some original letters that Gandhi had penned to many personalities of the times, from Nehru to Hitler! I was touched to see some of our new generation kids buying books by Gandhi to know more about him and some memorabilia and books for their grand parents.

 

There were a few places where one could, amidst all the hustle bustle and ordinariness that modern life has reduced such a grand vision to, feel the noble presence of Gandhiji and his exemplary ideals. One was a wall where his famous quote “My life is my message” was etched in his handwriting using concrete. The other was his little cottage, one nook that seemed to silently convey the man’s deep compassion and serenity in its bare simplicity. It was his cottage and even though one had to take a peek at the cushion that he sat on and the desk that he used and the charkha by his side that he spun, through a wire barrier, Kasturba’s room was open to visitors. There was nothing in it but four walls and an in built shelf.  Tears rolled down my eyes as I felt ashamed at how much I am dependent on others and things for my modern day, so called progressive life.

 

As most people milled around, including some of my own, walking around in the nature enveloped place like tourists, more in order to tick off one more site of their lists, I got lost in the past, when this place had a different feel and was walked upon by greater souls and when this place was the heart of a nation’s fate and the hearth of a great revolution. A revolution, that is till date remembered for its immense power and yet without the use of any arms or weapons.

 

 

 

 

Santa has come home

 

I put up my stockings

In the night, waiting

For Santa to drop in,

And bless me.

 

A heavy snow storm

Shrouded my room

in cold and white,

And I prayed.

 

In the dark of gloom,

Early hours of dawn,

A figure appeared,

And smiled.

 

Santa was here!

Finally, so near!

Pure and white,

And I felt so loved.

 

Santa in his white flowing,

Touched my whole being,

Gifting me his caring heart,

And his loving soul.

 

He spoke “My son

you have so far won

my gifts so rare,”

And I waited.

 

“That I now have the greatest

of them to share. The best

is intelligence and love,

And that too in perfect harmony.”

 

My stockings swelled,

With gifts never before beheld,

Immense, eternal

And life giving.

 

As his sleigh swished away,

Into the awakening morning sky,

A flake of snow drifted in

And laced my eyes.

 

A grateful whisper,

A loving prayer,

From a son to his father,

For a visit so dear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The latest gizmo in offering from Sony Ericsson lies in my hands. The new W550i, a walkman phone. Loaded with power is a techonologically advanced mobile, that does everything possible. Apart from its solid and yet stylish body, (I find the lite phones too effiminate and vain), its vivd colours and fabulous features, it is also a great music player. wether you want to download songs on MP3 or listen to FM, its sound plugs give you a theatre feel. Unbelievable how far technology has reached where the phone today is a walkman, a camera, a video recorder, an alarm, a torch, a reminder and sound recorder. all these features packed in with the trusted name of Sony and ericsson, can only give you a quality product. So all those gizmo greedy like me and all those music lovers, (Now that about includes everybody) go for it and buy this latest walkman offering. satisfaction guaranteed.