There is a multitude of wants in our life, which seldom manifests itself into a definite aim. Generally for lack of planning, we do whatever is urgent but not important. This is against the time management matrix and results in failure. Lack of planning always brings us back to the spot where we had started.
In order to achieve one’s goal, it is important to know where one is exactly at a particular moment. Then only one can decide where to proceed. This will prompt us to identify and explore the ways that will help us achieve them. Along with this assessing one’s capabilities and qualities, the inherent power, enhanced through efforts can make our efforts meaningful. These who worked hard and worked in the right direction were not disappointed by a few setbacks. Once fully determined, success becomes inevitable.
Jagdish Narayan’s new shop began functioning steadily. His elder son, Ram Prasad, soon realized that he would not attain his goal in the vocation they were pursuing. He began looking for some other profession. He had studied only up to the second standard. However, poverty and deprivation had taught him the lesson which no school ever teaches. He constantly remembered the humiliation and the circumstance that compelled them to leave Manendragarh. Since a big business presupposed capital, he decided to work as a partner of a rich businessman. He became a partner of three persons in quick succession. One particular partnership filled his pockets with bundles of currency notes.
By establishing ‘Shri Laxmi Rice Mill’ in Bilaspur, six months prior to my birth, 30 years old Ram Prasad had become Seth Ram Prasad. This flashback was to apprise you the fact that I was quite comfortable in contrast to my father and grandfather who had undergone long spells of suffering. Yet there was nothing charming or interesting in my life. I could not realize when did my childhood end and when did I step into adolescence. My grandfather and father remained indifferent to me. I do not recall a single occasion when they said something enduring or affectionately picked me in their arms. I was growing in the family as an unwanted entity. Maybe outburst of affection was not considered respectable or worthwhile feeling that this might spoil the child. When I revisit my past I find that there were plenty of signs to confirm that I could become a spoiled brat. Love and careful concern are basic needs of a child. In that period children used to be born and grow in spite of the lack of care. The number used to be quite considerable hence only the obstinate ones or short tempered one were handled with care while the remaining ones were taken for granted. I was growing as a timid child undergoing regular punishment, scolding or dreadful awe. I began accepting that I was nothing but a bundle of follies.
The scent of new books and copies used to tempt me so much that I kept standing at these shops. I often thought that I would become a bookseller when I grew up, the wish never materialized. Throughout my life I planned several schemes, dreamed of ambitious projects but being unable to stick to one particular decision, my weaknesses overpowering me, I simply kept dancing to the times of circumstances. I tried to seek happiness in whatever I decided to do and kept internalizing a sense of duty. In such a swarm of dreams, I succeeded in realizing at least one, despite obstacles of becoming an orator. These I shall discuss a little later in the fourth decade of my life. Let me, for the time being; focus on my childhood aspirations, curiosity to fasten life and a desire to mature as fast as I could.
Babbaji, was diagnosed throat cancer in 1959. He was taken to Tata Memorial Hospital, Bombay (Mumbai) where he was administered Radiotherapy. After his return, he renounced business and the sweetshop Pendrawala became the responsibility of my elder brother Roop Narayan. I was to assist him. He began giving the old patterned shop a modern look. We together made it run quite successfully. I continued both schoolings as well as the business though I could not devote much time to my studies.
Babbaji had to bear the ordeal of cancer for a very long period. Scriptures tell us that suffering is a result of past deeds. Quite often I used to wonder what kind of sins bring such suffering. The man who lived the life of an ascetic after becoming a widower at the age of thirty! He extended financial support to any needy person who approached him instead of amassing wealth. There is a proverb which says, “When you help someone it should be such an act if you are giving with the right hand, left hand should be unaware of it.” This stood true for him. What I saw and as much as I knew him I found him a saint at heart, deeply religious. His condition would often vex me to ask, ‘What kind of treatment God metes to those who have faith in Him?’ He breathed his last on 1st February 1962. Relatives and acquaintances were informed. His bier was prepared. When the bier was being taken for cremation my six-year-old brother Rajkumar asked, “Where are you taking Babbaji?”
It was my first experience to attend a funeral. When he was cremated I kept enquiring what happens after death. As I had heard and read I began visualizing various kinds of images, Yamraj, the Lord of Death, perched on a huge buffalo, Chitragupta, the account keeper of deeds, heavenly dancers dancing in ecstasy and huge boiling cauldrons of oil. The curiosity still persists. Though I read and hear a lot of religious discourse, yet I do not consider them reliable as I do not have firsthand experience. Past birth or rebirth are issues that keep me agitated?
**********
That period brought a wealth of emotions. I used to internalize feelings in my own way thus began preparation for adolescence. Experiences in the family, reading books and magazines, films turned me into an emotional person, resembling the nature of my mother. My first acquaintance with Hindi literature began with Bhagwati Charan Verma’s novel, Chitralekha followed by Gopal Singh Nepali and Gopal Das Neeraj’s poems. I developed an aptitude for literature. I was highly fond of Gurudatt and Acharya Chatursen’s novels.
It was a period; I spent in the company of friends playing hockey, football or Kabaddi. Studies continued though there was neither planning nor seriousness. What to do or what to become, such issues never bothered at that age. Of course, I was allergic to court or police stations. Avoiding them I kept myself busy in the business though I wanted to get rid of it. While the elders in the family wanted to induct me in business soon after I finish matriculation and get me married. I wanted to be, at least, a graduate so that my wedding invitation could proudly proclaim my name: Groom: Dwarika, B.A.
In 1961, when I was fourteen, a film Janglee was released bringing the scenic beauty of Kashmir, melodious tunes set by Shankar Jaikishan, Shammi Kapoor in his antics and beautiful Saira Bano. Saira Bano’s eyes appearing as a deep lake, her slim figure, enchanting beauty mesmerized me. Whenever she spoke, I felt as if the sweet juice of Dasheri mango was dripping down her lips. I used to sleep with her photograph under my pillow because someone had assumed me that by doing so she would come me in my dreams. It is another matter, once Meena Kumari did come in my dreams instead of Saira. I didn’t have the wisdom to keep Meena Kumari’s photo under my pillow compelling Saira Bano to appear in my dreams!
**********
It was the last year of matriculation exams. The teachers had scared us to death, ‘It is a board exam, work hard, lest you would topple down.’ There used to be a long rush of customers at the sweet shop hence I had to work overtime for longer spells. Daddaji would often reprimand, ‘Say goodbye to your studies. You have studied enough. Report at the rice mill and earn a few dimes.’ The adolescent was perplexed whom to obey.
Anyway, by giving higher priority to studies I devoted my energy to it because I must show something worthwhile to continue further studies. I had fully devoted to my studies but the matriculation result brought an unexpected surprise.
Valuation of answer books was done with utmost stinginess. Seventy percent of candidates had to remain content with the third division while twenty percent managed to be placed in the second. Only ten percent would find themselves in the first. Not only did I score first division, I also secured more than seventy-five percent marks (i.e. distinction) in three subjects. Thus my purpose was saved and my elder brother Roop Narayan came forward to support my plea. He got me admitted in C.M.D.College of Bilaspur in Commerce faculty. Instead of shining as Seth Dwarika Prasad, I got an opportunity to receive the brilliance of higher education so as to add glory to my future. (Seriatim)
In order to achieve one’s goal, it is important to know where one is exactly at a particular moment. Then only one can decide where to proceed. This will prompt us to identify and explore the ways that will help us achieve them. Along with this assessing one’s capabilities and qualities, the inherent power, enhanced through efforts can make our efforts meaningful. These who worked hard and worked in the right direction were not disappointed by a few setbacks. Once fully determined, success becomes inevitable.
Jagdish Narayan’s new shop began functioning steadily. His elder son, Ram Prasad, soon realized that he would not attain his goal in the vocation they were pursuing. He began looking for some other profession. He had studied only up to the second standard. However, poverty and deprivation had taught him the lesson which no school ever teaches. He constantly remembered the humiliation and the circumstance that compelled them to leave Manendragarh. Since a big business presupposed capital, he decided to work as a partner of a rich businessman. He became a partner of three persons in quick succession. One particular partnership filled his pockets with bundles of currency notes.
By establishing ‘Shri Laxmi Rice Mill’ in Bilaspur, six months prior to my birth, 30 years old Ram Prasad had become Seth Ram Prasad. This flashback was to apprise you the fact that I was quite comfortable in contrast to my father and grandfather who had undergone long spells of suffering. Yet there was nothing charming or interesting in my life. I could not realize when did my childhood end and when did I step into adolescence. My grandfather and father remained indifferent to me. I do not recall a single occasion when they said something enduring or affectionately picked me in their arms. I was growing in the family as an unwanted entity. Maybe outburst of affection was not considered respectable or worthwhile feeling that this might spoil the child. When I revisit my past I find that there were plenty of signs to confirm that I could become a spoiled brat. Love and careful concern are basic needs of a child. In that period children used to be born and grow in spite of the lack of care. The number used to be quite considerable hence only the obstinate ones or short tempered one were handled with care while the remaining ones were taken for granted. I was growing as a timid child undergoing regular punishment, scolding or dreadful awe. I began accepting that I was nothing but a bundle of follies.
The scent of new books and copies used to tempt me so much that I kept standing at these shops. I often thought that I would become a bookseller when I grew up, the wish never materialized. Throughout my life I planned several schemes, dreamed of ambitious projects but being unable to stick to one particular decision, my weaknesses overpowering me, I simply kept dancing to the times of circumstances. I tried to seek happiness in whatever I decided to do and kept internalizing a sense of duty. In such a swarm of dreams, I succeeded in realizing at least one, despite obstacles of becoming an orator. These I shall discuss a little later in the fourth decade of my life. Let me, for the time being; focus on my childhood aspirations, curiosity to fasten life and a desire to mature as fast as I could.
Babbaji, was diagnosed throat cancer in 1959. He was taken to Tata Memorial Hospital, Bombay (Mumbai) where he was administered Radiotherapy. After his return, he renounced business and the sweetshop Pendrawala became the responsibility of my elder brother Roop Narayan. I was to assist him. He began giving the old patterned shop a modern look. We together made it run quite successfully. I continued both schoolings as well as the business though I could not devote much time to my studies.
Babbaji had to bear the ordeal of cancer for a very long period. Scriptures tell us that suffering is a result of past deeds. Quite often I used to wonder what kind of sins bring such suffering. The man who lived the life of an ascetic after becoming a widower at the age of thirty! He extended financial support to any needy person who approached him instead of amassing wealth. There is a proverb which says, “When you help someone it should be such an act if you are giving with the right hand, left hand should be unaware of it.” This stood true for him. What I saw and as much as I knew him I found him a saint at heart, deeply religious. His condition would often vex me to ask, ‘What kind of treatment God metes to those who have faith in Him?’ He breathed his last on 1st February 1962. Relatives and acquaintances were informed. His bier was prepared. When the bier was being taken for cremation my six-year-old brother Rajkumar asked, “Where are you taking Babbaji?”
It was my first experience to attend a funeral. When he was cremated I kept enquiring what happens after death. As I had heard and read I began visualizing various kinds of images, Yamraj, the Lord of Death, perched on a huge buffalo, Chitragupta, the account keeper of deeds, heavenly dancers dancing in ecstasy and huge boiling cauldrons of oil. The curiosity still persists. Though I read and hear a lot of religious discourse, yet I do not consider them reliable as I do not have firsthand experience. Past birth or rebirth are issues that keep me agitated?
**********
That period brought a wealth of emotions. I used to internalize feelings in my own way thus began preparation for adolescence. Experiences in the family, reading books and magazines, films turned me into an emotional person, resembling the nature of my mother. My first acquaintance with Hindi literature began with Bhagwati Charan Verma’s novel, Chitralekha followed by Gopal Singh Nepali and Gopal Das Neeraj’s poems. I developed an aptitude for literature. I was highly fond of Gurudatt and Acharya Chatursen’s novels.
It was a period; I spent in the company of friends playing hockey, football or Kabaddi. Studies continued though there was neither planning nor seriousness. What to do or what to become, such issues never bothered at that age. Of course, I was allergic to court or police stations. Avoiding them I kept myself busy in the business though I wanted to get rid of it. While the elders in the family wanted to induct me in business soon after I finish matriculation and get me married. I wanted to be, at least, a graduate so that my wedding invitation could proudly proclaim my name: Groom: Dwarika, B.A.
In 1961, when I was fourteen, a film Janglee was released bringing the scenic beauty of Kashmir, melodious tunes set by Shankar Jaikishan, Shammi Kapoor in his antics and beautiful Saira Bano. Saira Bano’s eyes appearing as a deep lake, her slim figure, enchanting beauty mesmerized me. Whenever she spoke, I felt as if the sweet juice of Dasheri mango was dripping down her lips. I used to sleep with her photograph under my pillow because someone had assumed me that by doing so she would come me in my dreams. It is another matter, once Meena Kumari did come in my dreams instead of Saira. I didn’t have the wisdom to keep Meena Kumari’s photo under my pillow compelling Saira Bano to appear in my dreams!
**********
It was the last year of matriculation exams. The teachers had scared us to death, ‘It is a board exam, work hard, lest you would topple down.’ There used to be a long rush of customers at the sweet shop hence I had to work overtime for longer spells. Daddaji would often reprimand, ‘Say goodbye to your studies. You have studied enough. Report at the rice mill and earn a few dimes.’ The adolescent was perplexed whom to obey.
Anyway, by giving higher priority to studies I devoted my energy to it because I must show something worthwhile to continue further studies. I had fully devoted to my studies but the matriculation result brought an unexpected surprise.
Valuation of answer books was done with utmost stinginess. Seventy percent of candidates had to remain content with the third division while twenty percent managed to be placed in the second. Only ten percent would find themselves in the first. Not only did I score first division, I also secured more than seventy-five percent marks (i.e. distinction) in three subjects. Thus my purpose was saved and my elder brother Roop Narayan came forward to support my plea. He got me admitted in C.M.D.College of Bilaspur in Commerce faculty. Instead of shining as Seth Dwarika Prasad, I got an opportunity to receive the brilliance of higher education so as to add glory to my future. (Seriatim)
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