An Unlucky Day

             We were just about to board the plane when a loud blare of announcement terrified us. “All passengers about to board Flight 129 should immediately rush back to the waiting hail. We have to search for a time bomb. The flight is cancelled.” It went on repeating. We were all shocked and disappointed. We, Anil and I, had no alternative but to take a taxi for home.

             It was 11 o’clock. The airport road was dark and lonely. I was thinking of my mother. She had earlier forewarned, after consulting our family priest, that the day was unlucky for a journey. Suddenly we saw a man in the middle of the road flailing his arms desperately like windmills, and we stopped. He was bleeding from a cut in his cheek. He said, “If you could give a lift…..’ and got into the back and sat by me.

             From the little conversation we had, I could guess he was a total stranger in the city. In his right pocket, near my side, something was bulging out. It looked like a pistol. I became suspicious. I wanted to test him. I referred to the police patrol on the road. His voice pitched higher, he grew tense, he seemed uneasy. That clinched it.

             I suddenly saw a way to handle the whole thing. Earlier on his request we had agreed to put him up for the rest of the night. So we had to inform home. I stopped the car near a telephone booth and went to phone. He also came up and stood close to me. I knew where my father was for a special night inspection on that day. On the phone, I told him’ to make arrangements for a man to stay there. He was surprised, ‘Here of all places!’ I said, “Yes, you will be glad to have him.” I took the seat of the driver on the pretext of giving him some rest. I took a different route and drove directly into the police station.

             Five policemen came running with the stenguns ready. I said hoarsely, “Quick he is armed.” They dragged our passenger out and got his pistol. Then everyone began to relax. My father, the Superintendent of Police of the city, presently appeared and patted my back, Well done, my son!” He showed me an old newspaper. There was the man’s photograph with a note: Rupees 50 thousand rewards to help in catching Jhambir, a dreaded criminal charged with over 10 cases of murder and dacoity.

             I again remembered my mother. Did she say the day was unlucky for a journey?

The Autobiography of a Dog

             A wonderful career has been mine from the time I left my mother’s side and began a life of adventure in this little village of Midnapore. I am called Jimmy. I was born in an opening in a wall in one of the dark and dingy lanes of the village. A year after my birth, my mother left me alone and I lived upon the craps thrown by the people in the neighborhood. I do not recollect having met with any accident in my childhood, and the first six months of my life, after my separation from my mother, passed peacefully. I grew up to be strong, handsome and swift. I believe that was the happiest part of my life. I had no work to do, and could run about anywhere I liked. But that could not last long.

             One day a man, riding a donkey, came into the village and saw me eating a loaf of bread which I had stolen from a house. He seemed to take a liking for me at once and ordered one of his men to fasten a leather collar round my neck. My kidnapper then sold me for fifty rupees to a gentleman in a neighboring village. He, as it happened, was a man of means, took me home and gave me a good meal. I was very faithful to my new master and many a time saved his house and property from burglars. In course of time his children grew so fond of me that they would take me out for a walk and send me after a ball which they threw at a distance. When they fondled and patted me, I wagged my tail as a sign of gratitude. I never snapped at them even though they sometimes beat me.

             At last this good old master died, in a very advanced old age, and then I became the property of a certain Christian gentleman. This gentleman, giving me the name of Bob, took little notice of me. Luckily for me, his wife was a benevolent woman, who treated me with the same kind care and consideration us my previous master.

             After a few months’ stay I ran away and embarked on a life of adventure. One day I was crossing the main road, when suddenly there was a loud hoot and I had hardly time to spring for safely when a large and a silent motor car just grazed my tall. How careless!

             Now I am growing old. They say that a dog lives up to 12 years. I have no time to worry about death. The only thing that is worth worrying about is food. I have grown weak and helpless. I remain hungry all the time. I go about smelling the backyards of big houses. I get only kicks and stones. If by chance I lay my paws on a piece of bone, the younger and stronger dogs snatch it away. My old muscles avoid fighting. I now really lead a dog’s life, as the saying goes.

The Autobiography of a Rupee

             I was born in a building called The Mint. My parent was a metal strip from which we were made round. Thereafter we were embossed with two ears of corn and the figure with the words ‘Rupee’ and ‘1991’, to indicate the your of birth on one side. On the other side, the Lion Capital and the words, ‘Bharat in Hindi and ‘India’ in English were embossed. Each disc was given a milled edge too. After finishing they called us, ‘rupee coins’. In shining metal and with the figure and letters very beautiful and distinct, I was very proud of my smart appearance.
             My active life began when I was removed from the Mint and paid ova the counter of a bank to a gentleman who cashed a cheque. He put me into a leather bag: but I was not there for long as he gave me to a confectioner. The confectioner was so pleased with me that he shut me up in a greasy drawer. I continued to be there a close prisoner for many months, till at last I was exchanged for two 50 paise pieces. My new master, to my unspeakable grief was a miserable old fellow. He clapped’ me into an iron chest, where I found five hundred more of my own species lying in the same confinement. The only relief was that we were carried now and then into the fresh air and counted and placed in different heaps. After an imprisonment of several years, we were taken out by a young man. He gave me to a young lady, who put me in her purse. She soon handed me to a servant to pay the grocer’s bill. I thus rambled merrily from pocket to pocket till I was worn out. The corn plant became faint and the lettering on my back became almost rubbed out. I was deemed useless for the world and every one turned up his nose at me. Eventually I was given away in charity to a blind beggar. The beggar bought tea in exchange for me and I was placed in the tea dealer’s box, only to be extracted by his son who took me to a pedlar as he wanted to buy a few toys. The pedlar banged me on the ground to see if I was genuine. He looked at me closely, made a few insulting remarks about my battered condition but in the end accepted me with great reluctance, At last I was sent back to the Mint.
             There were many more of us there—all time honoured old fellows, but in bad shape now. It was being whispered around that we were to be cast into a furnace and turned again into the base material of our bodies—only to be recast again.

Chaos after Rain

             It may sometimes be difficult to believe what we see after the rain. The water-logged road after two days of incessant rain. The broad Rotary Road lined with trees and houses on both the sides. This is one of the busiest roads of the city, difficult to cross on normal days due to the heavy rush of traffic. But that day it was different. The road was submerged in knee-deep water in front of our house.

             It was morning. Not a single bus or car could be seen plying on the road on that day. The students with rucksacks on their backs were wading through knee-deep water to reach their school nearby. The wheels of the parked cars were under water. Anil, my brother, could not move his car. In the foreground Anil can be seen. He volunteered to take my youngest sister to school by carrying her on his back. But he could not make it. The unusually heavy downpour continued in full fury for two days continuously. There were flashes of lightning accompanied by peals of thunder. The drainage system failed completely. There was severe large-scale water-logging. At some places, the level of the water was chest-high. Most of the civic services came to a standstill. School children and office goers bore the brunt of the consequences. It took 2 to 3 hours for the harried motorists to reach their offices.

             Public transport was severely hit. It caused hardship to everyone. Traffic jams became the rule of the road. There were several accidents. The vastly reduced number of buses which plied were chock-full. It caused frayed tempers. Most commuters were drenched. They feared impending attacks of cold and fever over the coming days.

             Rail tracks were submerged in water. It disrupted train services. Roadside vendors and stall owners were unable to do business. In the low lying areas temporary mud and bamboo structure houses collapsed; but the merciful God prevented any loss of life.

             Rainy season has a unique flavor. It is fascinating to see the sky laden with dark clouds and lightning tearing across them. But when rains change the streets into swift rivulets, often deep, it is difficult to say whether it is a challenge for man or it is his misfortune.

Democracy is the best form of Government

              It has become a fashion to sneer at “Democracy”. People think only those governments succeed where there is a dictator at the top, where a strong man rules with an  iron hand. Too much freedom, according to them, leads to chaos and anarchy. Let us first examine what democracy means. It is a form of government where those who control the government are elected by the people and are answerable or responsible for their actions to the people.

              This keeps a healthy check on all their activities and prevents anyone from  becoming an absolute ruler. The world’s biggest democracies are the U.S.A., Britain (it has a monarchy, but its powers are limited and there is democratic rule), India. France. etc. Democracy also means a form of society where there is no privileged class and in which individuals may rise to power because of ability and hard work. Democracy is also an ideal way of life because it lays emphasis on equality, liberty, brotherhood, tolerance and peaceful co-existence.

              Is there any alternative to all this? Look at the countries where there is dictatorship. President Saddam has brought grief, calamity, and war to his country. Look at Afghanistan. there is total anarchy — cultural, political and spiritual. Israel and Palestinians are still fighting — one is not giving up what it has taken by force, and other is not giving up fighting for its rights. look at what happened in Bosnia-Croatia. Nothing was solved by war or terrorism, Finally, only democracy wins.

              The Soviet Russia was so powerful with communism, a form of dictatorship. But look how it ended! The dictators, the terrorists have short lived success and in the end those who live by the sword, die by the sword.

              Democracy is the only hope for the world. Look at our own country. only democracy can save it. Otherwise it will lead to disintegration of our country. If we don’t believe in ideals like equality and brotherhood and peace. Where will we end. We are a vast country with many religions, cultures, language and unless we believe in equal rights and opportunity for all, we will be divided into fragments and play into our enemies’ hands. Threat of nuclear war loom’s and only sane people. believing firmly in democracy can save us. Democracy teaches us to be tolerant and peaceful. Democracy teaches us to be unselfish and work for the larger interest, for the good of the maximum number of people. Without ideals we cannot have progress. without tolerance we cannot have peace. The world cannot afford war or dictatorship and democracy is the best form of government for the world.

Is all Art Useless?

             Men are at times very moody. They speak out very odd things like the saying that we are discussing. If all art were useless Leonardo da Vinci would never have made the portrait of Mona Lisa with a bewitching smile. Leonardo da Vinci would never have drawn a flying machine. More recently Shah Jahan’s Taj Mahal would never have been regarded as the marble marvel. If there were no art much of the charm of life would have been taken away. All men have an aesthetic sense that enables them to behold and appreciate the beauty in nature and in life around. A smiling flower, a green valley, a gorgeous building, a dancing fountain, a singing canary. a flowing river all are artistic creations of the creator. It was because of this beauty that Keats wrote, ‘A thing of beauty is a joy forever.’ Art is beauty and beauty art. Life without art will be useless and not ‘all art is useless.’
             The difference lies in our attitudes. Some are negative in their thinking while others are positive in their thinking. This reminds one of an incident.When two persons looked out of the gate of the Jail. One saw a  pool of mud while the other saw the beautiful bright stars. Beauty lies in our own altitude Art life giving. It is soothing and consoling. These are beautiful depictions In the form of  pictures, architecture, writing, carvings, mouldings and in all variety of life. These beautiful things of artistic concepts are so charming that we are never tired of looking at them. We admire not only the artistic creations hut also the artists who made them.
             Art is the expression of human heart in various phases of the growing civilisation plunging forth Lu unknown goals and targets. It is because of art that man could discriminate between trash and consummate writing. Art inspires life wonderfully and makes it worth living for all its fascination. But for art all life would have become useless. Art is only a means to an end and not an end in itself. Those who say that all art is useless seem to be ignorant and unrefined in their taste and temperament, Art is not useless but it is the most useful aspect of human life.

The Problem of Unemployment in India

             The greatest problem existing in our country today is the problem of unemployment.

The Government has recently announced a major programme for the creation of three million jobs for the educated unemployed in the private sector by 1994-95.

             The proposed plan of action seeks to create three million additional jobs — 0.5 million for graduates and 2.5 million for non-graduates and these employment opportunities will be created outside the Government sector.

In solving the problem of educated unemployed, first it is necessary In train them through vocational education, In acquire skills in trades or professions which will enable them to find employment in the private sector.

             Secondly, it is essential to create inure opportunities for self-employment among the educated, by providing financial aid in terms of modest capital to them.

A massive programme of training computer professions must also he taken up. Repair and maintenance of electric goods would employ a large number of people.

             Lastly, self-employment through public sector is yet another important measure. The public undertakings could reserve some proportion of dealerships. contracts and service agencies for the educated unemployed.

             Thus the Government seeks to tackle the problem of educated unemployed by increasing employment opportunities through vocational training and creation of self-employment opportunities.