monster under my bed..

beneath the macho exterior , gruff voice and a rough manner hid a sensitive soul..
it had been a long day today...long but exciting ,tough but terrific.
Vinnie had been out camping with his mates , he had climbed up a steep hill without missing a beat ,he had dropped down the rock face in record time....through out the day he'd had been leading from the front.And doing it well.

now the last log had died glowing red in the bonfire ....the songs had been sung,the stories exchanged, the backs patted, the ghost story told..

the doors were all closed ,the wind howling along the jackals or was it only the jackals and no wind?all his mates were snug in their sleeping bags..so was he ,or seemed to be or should have been!

he could not sleep.
he could hear the wind wailing in the trees , he could see strange shadows on the walls of the wooden lodge ,he could feel his heart thumping....ghosts...lost souls....intangible monsters and all the things that go bump in the night were lurking slinking roving rambling prowling around ready to grab attack assault maul him if he moved a limb.he knew it .he could feel it.

he was awake and lonely in his wakefulness.his throat was dry and he needed a drink of water.but...he was in the attic of the lodge and the water was down the stairs..

he would die of thirst...
he would die of fear...
he tried to wake one of his friends , he grunted ,turned over and would not wake up...not at all.
perched on the top of the mountain,in the morning ,he had been scared but he had forgotten about his fear once he had taken the first step up!
he recalled it, he was scared now but maybe he would forget his fear once he would take his first step down.
he was trembling but he got up ..
he would definitely not die of thirst...
he thought and this thought brought a smile to him....and he was downstairs.

drop down the mountain...

Kerry is a cheerful, fun loving and a cool girl.
At the moment she was neither cheerful nor fun loving.She felt far from cool.In fact she was a bundle of nerves.Her hands were clammy .Her heart was hammering away in her chest .She had never been so scared in all of her sixteen years.Convinced that she was going to die in a few minutes , she was clinging to the rope that was her only link to safety, with all her might.
She had woken up in the morning with her usual exuberant smile.Even more cheerful than other days since she was going for team building activities with her school mates to an adventure camp in the Aravalli hills.The bus ride had been full of masti and unadulterated fun.They had all been looking forward to the rest of the day with anticipation..

Time for her to rappel down the rock face..a sheer drop...some seventy feet down...
Harness in place..rope tested...helmet buckled...instruction over.
Fear struck.
Kerry was immobile with fear.
Frozen on the ledge from where she had to rappel down ,she decided that she definitely did not want to do this...never ...never ever...she would ask the instructor to pull her up.

She could hear the cheering of her team ,they were calling out her name ,encouraging her to go on.She could hear them shouting her name over and over again......and again.
Her team would lose if she backed out.
She called out to the instructor to ask him to pull her up.
She heard herself say OK .
The rope began to slide down and she was rappelling down...trembling shivering scared.When her feet touched solid earth ,she could not stand up straight.She was surrounded by her team mates ,caught in a group hug,she did not recall how afraid she had been a few minutes ago...
she just could not!
i call her a hero.

the sportsman

this is a true story.this is not my story but perhaps mine for the telling.
here it is...
he could not think beyond his sport , a young boy hardly ready for the world plunged himself headlong in his passion .

in the morning he woke up with not a thought in his head but that of his sport...in the afternoon ,sun or rain, he remained on the field ...in the evening he worked on his physical fitness....and when he was exhausted,he fell on bed ...maybe he dreamt too of his sport.

he grew up to be a straight and a simple young man who believed in two values in life.one ,the power of hard work ,and two..the strength of determination...all around him were people ,friends ...team mates...sportsmen...coaches who were absolutely sure that here was a winner.

whenever he appeared on the field, he made headlines....absolute success was a hair's breadth away...or so it seemed.

the more he was disappointed,the harder he worked...
the harder he worked,the closer seemed his aim...
the closer seemed his aim,the more dedicated he was...
the more dedicated he was,the more focused he became...
the more focused he was,the more disappointed he was...
it was a roller coaster and there was no getting off for him.

till the ride crashed and his hopes dashed to ground and his dreams shattered as if they never were.

plunged in despair,he swore never again to pick up a ball.
but without his passion he could never be who he was.
everyday was misery ,every night a nightmare.
frustration tore at him ,anger clawed at him.
hard work did not work...and life is not fair..
he learnt these two lessons in the classroom that is life.

he stayed caught in utter despair.however ,since he had always thought that for him life was cricket and cricket all life,he could not remain away...

it took a lot of courage....to lace up his spiked shoes and get back to what he loved best...
he did it...
i call him a winner.

why i write about courage...

'the world speaks to me in pictures,
my soul answers in(music) writing....'
tagore again..

this day today reminded me of a memory so far unwritten,never unremembered but never written...
it was this way...

in this most practical world of trivial pursuits and monetary considerations ,there lived a poetic soul... more in the flight of her dreams than in the firmness of the terra firma , more in the goodness of her deeds than in the reality of the outcomes ,more in the joy of her smiles than in the pain of her existence.

her very existence was pain,she suffered from one of the most crippling diseases ever known to mankind ,and she knew she would never be cured...every day she would go through the prescribed exercises with firm fortitude , everyday she would take her pain killers to begin her day...but she began her day with a smile for her loved ones and a kind word for all who knew her.

all through the day ,she had a multitude of visitors ,some brought her cares that she cared enough to share ,some brought troubles that she would halve with a word of encouragement...and she sent away everyone with a song in their hearts and a feeling that there wasn't much that was wrong with this world....and whatever was wrong could be fixed with a do-it fix-it-forget-it attitude,all one needed was a little courage and someone to believe in you.

she was that someone...and she taught me all i know about courage...love and faith.
she is not with me today...but she is still with me.
every act of courage makes me believe again...
so i write.