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Showing posts with label Ponderings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ponderings. Show all posts

Monday, 7 September 2026

Education : A Poem Based On An Old Inspiring Story

 

Education

Long, long ago

In a Gurukul,

A dumb student, Varadraj,

Struggled in vain

To study and learn,

But, always,

His laziness and foolishness won

And he became and remained

An object of fun.

His classmates surpassed him,

Completed their studies

And left for home,

Leaving him behind,

Ashamed and alone ….

Gurujee’s perseverance,

Patience and compassion

Also gave way,

One day

And with heavy heart

And kind words,

Varadraj was told

To leave for home ….


On his way back,

Dejected, despair-loaded Varadraj

Stopped by a well

To quench thirst

And his eyes fell

On the eroded stone wall

Of the well.

He wondered,

If a rope can erode,

Leaving pits and marks

On stony well wall

Can hard-work not carve,

Can hard-work not enliven

My stone-dumb brain ?


He went back

And told this to Gurujee,

Who gladly

Gave him

One more chance,

Not in vain, again,

For he worked hard

And excelled ….

Gurujee’s kind support

And purity of his pupil’s

Intentions as well as Efforts

Fetched desired results.


- Vanita Thakkar (24.08.2009)

During my tenure in Academics - as an Assistant Professor and later, as an Associate Professor in Mechanical Engineering, while teaching heavy / complex subjects like Heat Transfer, I used to inspire my students to work hard and to be self-confident by narrating this story, assuring them that they are far better than Varadraj - the dumb student in the story ....

I had this story in my Hindi Prose lessons in the fifth standard and it had inspired me a lot as a student .... At the end of the story was a small two line verse, which is called Dohaa - "Karat Karat Abhyaas Ke, Jadamati Hot Sujaan, Rasaree Aavat Jaat Te, Sil Par Parat Nisaan" .... given in the picture ....


One day, I thought it could be a penned into a good poem and wrote this poem ....

Sunday, 6 September 2026

The Award : A Short Story

Vipraa came to know that Dr. Yashwant Patel – the well-known, veteran Gujarati writer-thinker-philosopher had received one of the highest Civilian Awards of the country. Wow !! Great !! Vipraa was acquainted to Dr. Patel. She had attended one of his lectures, more than three decades back and later got the opportunity to meet him. He was a renowned orator as well and Vipraa – a second year college student then, was impressed by his ability to hold the attention of his audience. How she had wished her professors would have at least a few percentage of that ability !! ….

The trail of other memories followed and she recalled her interactions with the renowned, as also controversial personality …. Yashwantbhai (that is what Dr. Yashwant Patel was addressed as) spoke with jesting nonchalance, with traces of pride in it – on all the opposition he was facing – all the letters that he was receiving against his writings ….

A Queer Comment ....

“Chhaayaa looks like a shelly cow ….” Yashwantbhai had commented about a common acquaintance, hearing which Vipraa was taken a back. The phrase “shelly cow” (called “vasuki gayeli gaay” in Gujarati) was new to Vipraa, but she could grasp the feel of what it meant. Later, she found out that it apparently means an old cow, usually in poor condition and found “useless” as she cannot be milked …. What Yashwantbhai said about Chhaayaa did not sound good at all. Not that Vipraa and Chhaayaa were great friends. Perhaps Yashwantbhai could know that they are too different to be friends. However, for some time, Vipraa and Chhaayaa were friends – if not good friends. At least that is what Vipraa thought. Chhaayaa was a professional and Vipraa was a college student then – more than three decades ago. They knew each other and had worked together for a couple of months, in a Youth Organization, to which Yashwantbhai was the mentor. Yashwantbhai, in his fifties then, enjoyed good influence on the founder of the Youth Organization, Rajiv, though behind his back, Rajiv openly and clearly expressed his reservations on Yashwantbhai’s “limitations” that Vipraa found difficult to understand. Rajiv was under some stress, perhaps, to maintain his hold on his group members. There were questions being raised on the vision and objectives as well as on the ways of functioning of the organization. Vipraa, a teenager at that time, could sense that there was something wrong somewhere and tried to see if there could be a change for good …. It couldn’t work. Perhaps she was too small, too simple, too naive …. Whatever !! Vipraa was sure of what she thought was right and good for herself. She distanced herself from the organization and its hassles, wishing and praying for the good of All …. Chhaayaa was close to Rajiv and perhaps had gone closer than what could be expected of a decent relationship …. Vipraa wondered as to how that was possible ??!! And if they are so close, why do they not get married ??!! ….

I am an anti-marriage person ….

And Yashwantbhai – he is known for his views against marriage. He himself told Vipraa that he is against marriage – “I am an anti-marriage person ….” Much later, Vipraa came to know that he had even initiated a campaign against marriage … !! ?? What for ? He himself is happily married !! His kids also got married later !! And as far as can be known – they are quite happy !! Still he spoke with such confidence and pride that he is anti-marriage – against marriage !! Why ??!! This is where Vipraa could not agree with Yashwantbhai. She never spoke to him about it directly. She treated Yashwantbhai with great respect – as a good writer and orator and an elderly renowned personality ….

How and why does such a great thinker and writer take pride in speaking against, even running a campaign against marriage – a relationship that is the basis of a healthy family life in a healthy, strong society …. !!??

Did he not give a thought to the option of understanding and talking about the essence of, the importance of, the dignity of that relationship …. Does he not owe anything of his achievements to his parents and their relationship; to his family life, to his marriage and to his wife …. ??!! ….

Before turning against any tradition, especially publicly, is it not wise to understand what it stands for, what are the misconceptions prevailing about it and how they can be overcome, to ensure that the essential auspicious thought and conviction behind its evolution are upheld …. ??!!

In a lighter vein, Vipraa observed that the fashion of running away from marriage and blaming marriage has never got old among men for ages !!

Feminism .... ??!!

Some other aspects of Yashwantbhai’s views also puzzled Vipraa. While speaking to Vipraa during their telephonic conversations on the Raamaayana and his own writings on the great scripture, Yashwantbhai more than once emphasized on focusing on the characters of Taadakaa and Shoorpanakhaa – the two Rakshashis or demonesses – saying they turned bad due to the atrocities they faced and due to curses of sages …. Vipraa felt puzzled when she heard that for the first time and more so on its repetition for the second time …. Then, the next time, she gave her reply to the advice – “It is better to focus on Shabari.” (In Raamaayana, Shabari is a tribal lady, an ardent devotee of Lord Raama and a disciple of the great Sage Matanga, who tells Lord Raama about Hanumanji and where he can be located).

Yashwantbhai had written in one of his articles that Shoorpanakhaa had done nothing wrong by flirting with Raama and Laxamana and that she should not have been punished for doing so …. was she punished for “flirting” with Raama and Lakshamana or for trying to harm Sitaa ? Vipraa had asked about this, but she did not get any reply ….

Well, is such a stance – of favouring vamp-like characters – called feminism ? Or is that being kind to ladies ? What type of feminism is it – women have the right to be wrong and bad ??!! ….


Vipraa found Yashwantbhai cautioning her against various evils prevailing in the society, especially against women, many of which were undoubtedly genuine – but he never talked of solutions, or efforts / attempts being made towards seeking the right solutions or attempts being made towards overcoming them. He sounded neither optimistic nor solution-oriented, in spite of his known associations with social works and social reforms. Was he so much taken to the awe of magnitude and complexities of the problems that he had lost sight and track of solutions …. ?

In a couple of bouts of credulity that Vipraa had witnessed during his lecture sessions, Yashwantbhai showed tendencies of trusting and committing on behalf of those who were not true enough to him – from what they spoke of him behind his back. And perhaps, as a lame excuse to the consequences of such blunders, he sometimes posed off that he enjoys being misunderstood …. Vipraa wondered if Yashwantbhai could see that his gracious servings of hot and sour spicy grey stuff to fans suffering from hyper acidity could be harmful to their health as well as his reputation.

In view of all this, Vipraa had her own doubts and concerns about how much and what type of justice Yashwantbhai was doing to all the appreciation, the respect and name he was commending in the society ….

Life takes its own course and amidst challenges of striking a balance between circumstances and priorities, acquaintance with Yashwantbhai turned into memories of appreciation and lessons from his lectures and writings and some interactions with him.

And of course, there can be no denying to the fact that Yashwantbhai speaks and writes well on a good range of topics – that include philosophy, religion, politics, nature and so on, with some traces of spiritualism …. and is much appreciated ….

A beautiful quote from Khalil Gibran brought Vipraa back to her present :

“I have learned silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to these teachers.”

With prayers in her heart, Vipraa got back to her work.


- Vanita Thakkar (26th August, 2020)

© 2020 Vanita Thakkar

Sunday, 7 June 2026

Dusk - Poem

 


Dusk - at Dharmashala, Himachal Pradesh, India .... by Vanita Thakkar (May, 2017)

Dusk


The western horizon is turning crimson,

The shadows of trees are beginning to lengthen.

The lotus folds in, trapping the bee

And to their nest, the birds are returning.

The sunshine is gradually drifting away,

The humming breeze sings of the departure of the day.

Here ends another day's work !

And countless feet turn homeward,

To be back before the lamps are lit

And the moon peeps in to greet,

For, soon in, the night will crawl

To wrap the land in her dark shawl,

Under whose folds, we shall creep

Into the world of dreams, in our sleep.

All the tiredness may it absorb !

While the Sun goes to light up the other end of our Orb.


- Vanita Thakkar (28.11.1989)

 


Sunset - at Dharmashala, Himachal Pradesh, India .... by Vanita Thakkar (May, 2017)

© 1989 Vanita Thakkar

Thursday, 28 May 2026

Perfection - a Poem .... What Is It ? an Aspiration, a Quest, an Expectation … a Tool, a Weapon ... Let Us Explore ....

 



Perfection


Perfection – unattainable :

A guiding star

To students, artists,

Continuously inspiring

Them for improvement;

A source of humility

For the Enlightened,

Saving them from

The vices of blindening ego.


Perfection – unattainable :

A tool and a weapon.


Perfection – unattainable :

But, measurable ?!

By man –

Whose perfection lies

In being imperfect ?!


Perfection – the Creator’s Nature :

Dissolve in its infinity

Through surrender.


- Vanita Thakkar (12.09.2008)



 

Perfection : an aspiration, a quest, an expectation ....

Perfection : tool - to chip and chop, crave and carve ....

Perfection : a weapon - to shake and break - individualities and identities .... ??!!

- Vanita Thakkar

 



© 2008 Vanita Thakkar

 

Tuesday, 19 May 2026

By The Train Window - Poem

 Dissolving Into The Vastness Within And Around By The Train Window ....


Sunrise by the train window .... Photograph by Vanita Thakkar


By The Train Window


The green, far-stretching fields,

Touching the horizon,

Sweep past the train window.

The gushes of wind

Engulf my being,

Unwrapping, unfolding

The layers of silence within,

That surge out

As a stream of

Humming emotions,

Formless thoughts,

Timeless yearning,

Emerging from

Unchartered mountains of memories

Flowing over and across

The winding and twining

Lanes and passages,

The contours and forms,

And flashes,

Scattered in the vastness within,

And spreads over and over

Over-board the rocking train window,

Into the swiftly moving

Fields and wilderness,

Rivers and streams,

Mountains and hills and rocks,

Over to and beyond

The clouds crawling lazily past

The boundless bent sky.


- Vanita Thakkar (09.06.2015)

 



Camouflaged Trust - Poem

 



Trust overladen with hidden, blind expectations creates unwanted and undue stresses and strains. Such experiences expose parasitic tendencies in relationships, in which the contributor gets exposed to the risk of being consumed by the receiver and has to be careful. A pure, determined mind can help with the confidence required to overcome and overpower such difficulties.

- Vanita Thakkar (22-02-2021)

 

Camouflaged Trust


What is it

That comes along

Camouflaged as trust

And claimed broken ?

Appreciation,

Which keeps turning upside down ?

Or peeping curiosity

Soaked in sore patience,

Seeking answers

That lie within ?

Or cleverness

Often mirror-imposed in fox

For its scavengerly habits ?

Or all these together

And much more

Unknown to my ignorant awareness,

Turning me into a protagonist

In a farce of converting

Disguised, disastrous expectations

Into challenges,

Too overbearing for my frail being,

But for the unfailing grace of

That Omnipresent Nobody.


- Vanita Thakkar (03.04.2011)

Monday, 18 May 2026

Consolations - Poem

Plight Of Womanhood .... Continued Refusal To Learn From Past, To Change For Good ....How Long, How Far .... ??!!



CONSOLATIONS

“Well, well, dear !!

This world didn’t spare

The divine Sita,

Purity embodied

And the dazzling Draupadi,

Blazing Womanhood,

Who are you and I ? ….”

Thus go consolations,

Sometimes soothing,

While at times piercing

The perpetually bleeding

Sores of Time,

Wailing wordlessly

At stagnated sensitivity

And vicious wiliness,

Regressing Manliness.


- Vanita Thakkar (17-03-2015)


We often hear such gratifications / consolations when there are talks about injustice to women ....

Sometimes, they are also used to caution / discourage a successful lady, steadily progressing on her chosen path, urging her to be "satisfied" with her share of achievements .... The reasons behind such discouragements can be very many that may even be too difficult to decipher immediately, but there is a clear, definite oversight to the sense of duty, commitment or necessity that prompts the lady to work towards perfection / excellence and resulting success ....

Plight Of Womanhood ....

Continued Refusal To Learn From Past,

To Change For Good ....

How Long, How Far .... ??!!


The Plight Of Sita .... ".... Prove Yourself ...."


Draupadi's Ordeal .... The Worst Insult Of Womanhood Right In Front Of Elders And Distinguished, Respected Courtiers ....

 

© 2020 Vanita Thakkar

The Waiting Princess : Poem - on being one’s own friend ....

 Being One's Own Friend .... My Poem That I Feel Is Closest To My Heart ....


The Element Of Friendship Is The Essence In Every Relationship That Breathes Life And Health And Happiness Into It ....

- Vanita Thakkar (05-08-2018)

THE WAITING PRINCESS

The messenger of dawn galloped by

On his winged horse across the sky,

Whispering to the sleeping lives –

“The Sun is about to arrive.”


Dew was sprinkled by the trees,

I was stirred up by wet breeze.

Slowly, I spread my wings

And came out of my new dwelling.


The Eastern dark curtain was lifted

And, in, the golden sun rays drifted,

Asking the lotus buds to arise,

Who, with trembling freshness, opened their eyes.


With the passage of night’s shadow,

From my throat, music began to flow

In praise of the glorious way

With which Nature welcomes a new day.


Suddenly, a sweet voice came along !

Oh !! I forgot my song !

In its direction, I flew;

As I went closer, sweeter it grew.


“Who’s singing ?”, I asked curiously

To the huge, old banyan tree.

He said, “You are a new-comer, I guess,

For, you don’t know the Little Princess.”


Through the leafy curtain I glanced

At the graceful way the Beauty danced.

“Ah ! Here comes a beautiful morning !

Come, oh birds ! with me, you sing !


“For, my friend will come today,

With whom I’ll dance and play.

She’ll come from a distance, quite long.

Greet her with a warm refreshing song.


“I’ve waited for her, day after day.

The brightness, today, makes me feel gay.

My heart is filled with happiness, unknown.

I shall no more be alone .......”


Enchanted by her enthralling grace,

The wind decreased her pace.

The trees waved, with the slow cadence

And the flowers spread wonderful incense.


She sang, awaiting her companion,

The dusk came, she knew not when.

Gradually, her voice became faint.

Clouded with despair, she went.


At dawn, lost hope, she found.

Again, I heard her sound.

Everyday, the same thing happened,

But, never came her awaited friend.


Till winter, there, I stayed.

Everyday, for her, I prayed.

Then, her icy hands, cold began to lay

And I had to go away.


Often, I thought of her,

And went to her woods, next summer,

Wishing, now, when I see,

A happier person she will be.


Again, her melodious voice, I heard.

But, the words she sang, totally differed,

“A new day has arrived

And a new light derived.


“The flowers, birds, trees and the sky –

Are all unchanged, but not I.

I welcome the awakening of a new person within

Who makes me perceive the scene,


“In a broader and a wiser manner.

Of loneliness, I no more murmur.

I don’t crave for anyone at my sides

For, I’ve found a friend, within myself who hides.”


- Vanita Thakkar. (17.05.1989)



 

Being One's Own Friend First Is Essential To Be A True Friend To Someone Else ....

- Vanita Thakkar (17-05-1989)

 

© 1989 Vanita Thakkar

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