बच्चों की मनोरंजक कहानियाँ – लौट आई खुशी – बच्चों की छोटी कहानियाँ हमेशा आकर्षित करती है चाहे प्रेरक हो या मनोरंजक – बच्चे कहानी बहुत चाव से पढते हैं. नन्हें सम्राट में प्रकाशित पढिए एक मजेदार कहानी बच्चों की मनोरंजक कहानियाँ – लौट आई खुशी कल दीवाली है पर आज मणि बहुत उदास है. मणि […]

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Hi, folks, this week I'm going to write my version of The Valley of Dry Bones in the first of a series called Close to the Bone.

When I was in my twenties, I joined a cult. It was a short lived thing that was all about religious propaganda to control others. This propaganda was wrapped up in a big quilt called the ABSOLUTE TRUTH. Of course, there was a booming preacher (a modern day apostle) called Brother because we would not want to be too familiar. He had a direct line to God; everyone needed to hear his message to be part of the true church. He answered to no one but God.

Under his guidance we learned important truths. Church had to be attended at least four times a week. Friends outside the Church weren't a good idea. Birth control wasn't a good idea. Sending your children to public school wasn't a good idea. God had big plans, and you needed to be in the Ship of Safety.  Demonic forces were roaming around out there that would take you down...Trying to live up to this holy propaganda was sort of like having all the flesh ripped from your body and leaving you as a pile of dry bones.

So I stuck to this mess for almost eight years. I never did leave; the cult imploded around me. I wish I had left, but I was shredded instead. There is nothing noble or redeeming about my story. Toward the end, my friend Barbara was losing weight. Too much. She was probably under a hundred pounds. I'd found it all. I had gained three children and seventy pounds in three and half years. Barbara, like me, would give large chunks of her money to the church. We didn't need anything; God was on our side. I'd saved up some extra money from collecting aluminum cans (five dollars) and took the money over to her house to help her meet her rent.  I also wrote a little poem about how on the other side of life we would find peace. Barbara took the money. I hugged her and said goodbye.

A few hours later, I was at church when I was told Barbara drove her car onto a train track and stopped. Beautiful Barbara was crushed by a screaming train on her way to pay the rent. I cannot not express the panic that I felt when I learned how she had died.  We were God's chosen people. Weren't we? I was numb and bleeding inside. I kept saying the same old religious propaganda but my belief in the ABSOLUTE TRUTH died with Barbara. I am crying while writing this. It was 25 years ago, but part of me always lives in that moment. My friend took her life and where was I?

I had my part in it. I'd tied myself in knots trying to support an unsupportable vision of God brought to me by an uneducated self-styled apostle who I should have declared as wrong.  Who knew there was so much power in just standing up and saying something is wrong? Everyone but me. Here is my message. If there is something you need to stand up for, please do. Please. Please. Please. Even if it sets the world on fire. I am standing here, handing you the torch.

Thanks for dropping by. I will continue with Close to the Bone.  I hope that my story will inform yours.

Instead of a doodle I'm posting a picture of Barbara.  A light lost.

When some one says to you "that's just a fairy tale," it generally means that what you have just said is untrue or unreal. It is a polite but deprecating way of saying that your words form a lie or gossip. Your story is make-believe and unreliable. It has nothing to do with reality and experience. Fairy tale is thus turned into some kind of trivial story.

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Child Artist … हेतवी पारिख जिन्हे सपने देखना अच्छा लगता है उन्हे रात छोटी लगती है, जिन्हें सपने पूरा करना अच्छा लगता है उन्हे दिन छोटा लगता है…..!!! ऐसे ही अपने नन्हे मासूम सपने पूरे करने मे जुटी है आठ साल की हेतवी पारिख. जी, हां, वही हेतवी पारिख जिन्हे आप आजकल सब टीवी के […]

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    सुखवंत कलसी कार्टून की दुनिया के सम्राट Journey from commerce to comics !!! बच्चों और बचपन का नाम लेते ही मन मे बहुत सारी बातें उभर कर आती हैं जैसाकि पढाई, मासूमियत, शरारतें, मस्ती और कार्टून. जी हां, बच्चों और कार्टून का गहरा नाता है. चाहे वो टीवी पर देखें या बच्चों की […]

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कुछ जानी अंजानी बातें इकबाल आजाद से (मशहूर टीवी अदाकार) एक अच्छे अदाकार की यही खासियत होती है कि वो जिस भी किरदार मे ढले अपनी अमिट छाप छोड जाए. मशहूर टीवी अभिनेता “इकबाल आजाद” अपने हर रोल में ना सिर्फ अपनी छाप छोडने में कामयाब रहे हैं बल्कि असल जिंदगी मे भी उनके व्यक्तित्व … Continue reading IQBAL AZAD

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उफ ये फैशन … मेरी सहेली मणि अभी मिलने आई. जबरदस्त जुकाम था. अरे!! अभी पिछ्ले सप्ताह ही बुखार ठीक हुआ था. अब फिर से ??? माना कि मौसम बदला है दुबारा सर्दी आ गई है पर मणि अपना ख्याल बहुत अच्छी तरह रखती है. स्वेटर या शाल जरुर लेती है फिर ये दुबारा ??? … Continue reading Article … fashion World

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मुझे यह बताते हुए बहुत खुशी हो रही है कि “नेशनल बुक ट्र्स्ट” की और से प्रकाशित मेरा लिखा बाल उपन्यास ” वो तीस दिन”अब On line हो गया है अब ना सिर्फ आप इसे आर्डर पर भी मंगवा सकते हैं बल्कि On line पढ भी सकते हैं… !!! मुझे पूरी उम्मीद है कि आप … Continue reading Wo Tees Din

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Hi folks, ah, the holidays, and of course, I'm running a little behind. This month I'm offering a little series I called Gifts. This will be short and sweet. There is a story in the Bible in the book of Ezekiel. This my retelling. Here how it starts. The Lord takes Ezekiel to valley of dry bones and asks him if the bones can live.

Ezekiel answers, "Lord only knows."

The Lord tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones.

(We don't prophesy in these days, and I sure do feel left out. The idea of a prophesy is to let someone know what is coming in the future. If you are a writer, you might understand this more than most.)

Back to the story. Ezekiel shouted to those bones."You dead bones, this is the Lord talking and not me -- I'm sending breath in you. And you will come alive. I'll put tendons, and flesh, and skin on you. I'll say it again, I'm putting breath in you, and will be alive. And the whole world will know I am the Lord!"

After that there was a noise. Bones rattled! They snapped together. Then came the tendons, and flesh and the skin. But instead of folks, there was a pile of dead bodies.

The Lord told Ezekiel to prophesy again. "Wind from the four corner of the Earth come into these dead bodies and make them live." And the wind came and a mighty army sprung up, rearing for a fight.

Then the Lord told Ezekiel what it all meant. "Those bones are my people.They have lost hope. They think they are dead.  I'm going to make them alive and I'm going to give them the little corner they are hankering for. Let them know I'm doing this because that's the way I am."

To wrap this up, if you feel like an old pile of dead bones, and you are wondering if you will ever get a chance to snap together and march out there and take your corner.  Remember this story. Wait for the wind.

I will be back next week with another of the Gifts series.

Here is a doodle.  "The sun, Moon, and the stars"

The most disingenuous three words in the English language. Unless you are the ultimate cynic and cast your lot with I love you. I hope that’s not the case.

Do we ever mean it when we ask? Really? When is the last time you passed someone in the hall and said “how are you” and truly wanted to take the time to know how they were? I’ll bet it’s been a while.

I’m not holier than thou. I say it all the time and rarely care. If some slick gunslinger is quicker on the draw than me, I even add the oft-disregarded, “I am well, and you?” Of course, I don’t want to know.

Until yesterday.

I get these wild hairs – often they involve really stupid things, but this one actually had redeeming potential. I decided to spend my lunch hour in the lobby of my building asking people I saw, “How are you?” and giving them available time and a proper interest to see if they would answer.

Most people don’t stop long enough to notice my disarming voice beckoning them to unburden themselves. The first seven I asked kept moving and gave the appropriate return without so much as an upward glance.

I don’t believe that anyone is “fine” like these seven told me. Pawn your lies and rote responses elsewhere.

Number eight seemed to think I had serious mental problems and eyed me warily while reaching into her purse for either a small handgun or pepper spray. Needless to say I decided against an elevator ride with this charmer. “I’ll take the next one, Bonnie Parker.”

You can trap the elderly.

In walked a slow, older gentleman. Number nine. He began scanning the directory and seemed somewhat confused.

“How are you?” I asked in a very welcoming and reassuring tone.

“I’m fine young man, just fine,” he replied. Something was different, though. Before he spoke, he turned and made eye contact.

He was rather unkempt, smelled like my high school gym teacher, and had a thick bushel of hair growing out of each nostril. But he smiled warmly. In fact, he smiled all over… an infectious smiled that started at his lips, slowly ran through his eyes and worked its way off his person and onto me. I liked this old dude.

“Say, would you know where the office of Litton & Driscoll is located,” he asked.

“I think that’s on the fourth floor.”

He patted me gently on the chest with some paperwork he had rolled into a tube, like a kid’s telescope. “Thank you, friend.”

“Don’t mention it.” Judging from his demeanor, this might be my first victim who actually was okay. He might just be fine. I had to be certain, though. “Are you sure you are fine?”

He looked at me long whilst I returned my best, biggest, dopiest smile.

“Well, I am headed up to settle my wife’s affairs. So, if you want an honest answer, I suppose I’m not fine.”

Oh boy…  Panic!   In over my head…  I thought I would learn about a foot ailment… or a wayward kitten. Not this. Why am I so stupid? All of me wanted to say, “I’m fine, and you?” But I got myself into this.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine.”

“You married?”

“Yes, sir. For 22 years now.”

“Seem young for that.”

I really liked this old dude.

“How long were you married?”

“Fifty-three years last August….”

And so began a wonderful story of love and loss.

You know what? I’m glad I asked. In fact, I’m going to break the habit of asking when I don’t care. From now on, I will only ask, “how are you” if I have time and interest in the answer. Try it yourself. Better yet, come join Joseph and me for coffee tomorrow morning and see that infectious smile.

Little bee, no swerving from your line when you deliver the goods back home.

A busy place with no door but when you enter you still use your buzzer.

Then back again from flower to flower, collecting the pollen that gives you power.

It’s home again, little bundles carried to feed the Queen

Justice is a matter of belief that fairness has won the day, that truth and honesty has prevailed …

But alas, Justice is only a perception that many times is corrupted by greed …

As they come together and chatter about this and that the world watches to see if they can really fly or are just a lot of noise …

What’s on my mind?
Indigenous peoples and their worry about being over run by other populations I guess could sum it up.
I suppose if cougars, wolves, elephants and such learned to shoot guns or band together better they would kick out the human populations who have transgressed on their land but as people go I believe we need to understand the reason for others unlawfully entering areas already overpopulated.
Overpopulation where they come from, economic despair, greed, the making of money into a God and the lust for power over others seem to be good places to start .
Seems to me that as people from a planet with finite resources we need to try to make all places a good place to live so people want to stay where they are. Make everywhere a good place to be.
Sharing with others does not have to mean give away my happiness but it could mean helping you gain yours. I hope I can do that with more than one other and if we all did it for just two other people it would cure the problem in my mind at least.

What would I do if I did not tell my stories? I might be “asleep” in life.  But even in sleep my stories dance in my mind. They wait. They hear my “voice.” That “voice” is a part of them. Where soul and chance meet, in their midst are cinematic images. They must be given an account in […]

When you are feeling all alone, if you just sing out loud you may be surprised how many others will join in with you …

I was just thinking that it’s not the perfect flower I look for in my photography, it’s the perfect feeling, same with my friends, they all have little flaws just like me but when I close my eyes and think of them I only know the sweet essence of their perfection and see how wonderful life is to let me see them … Love you all !

I enjoyed working on this cartoony spread for Group! The spread and some take-outs, below…

Hi! It's Louisa again. Today I'm going to review the book Cold Hard Cash, part of the Sammy Keys series by Wendelin Van Draanen. :-)

Not very many people take the expression "scared to death" literally, so Sammy Keys must have been pretty surprised to find out that she had literally scared someone- to death! And when this guy, an old guy too, pulled out bundles of cash from his pockets and begged Sammy to "get rid of them", she pretty much had to oblige, so she threw it out the windows of the fire escape. Nothing could stop Sammy from going back later to see if anyone had found the cash. And taking it. And spending it. And while she naturally felt guilty spending a dead guy's cash, she was so excited about finally having pocket money, she didn't wonder much about where it came from, and why someone was carrying thousands of dollars around in their pockets. This book has the perfect balance of old lady disguises, pool parties, bratty little brothers, dramatic mothers, excitement, police cars, charmingly sneaky old men, colorful cowboy boots and scruffy hotels.This is one of the many wonderful books in the Sammy Keys series, by the lovely Wendelin Van Draanen.
I recommend this for sixth grade and up, after a particularly scarring incident in third grade (let's just say I wasn't used to murder).  If this story sounds interesting, be sure to check out the rest of the books in this series, starting with Sammy Keys and the Hotel Thief.

I had a dream!

Note my declaration is past tense meaning there is no similarity in weight or profundity to Dr. King’s Dream. No, I had a dream that scared me enough to rouse me from my deep slumber to ensure the security of my homestead. You know, that hazy stumble to check the locks on the doors, ignoring the fact that if someone wanted in badly enough, a locked door wouldn’t stop them.

Because I didn’t fully wake, I don’t recall the entire dream, mostly just the impact it had on me – then later, the impact it had on others. I am a very deep sleeper. For years I have said that comes from having a clean conscience. I’m not sure that is true, I just say it to make myself sound righteous.

This dream involved a thief. But he wasn’t just any thief, he was after one thing: our light bulbs. I have heard of houses being stripped of all their copper tubing, never their bulbs. We switched to compact fluorescent long before the government told us we had to. I wonder if I harbor a subconscious grudge about paying more for light bulbs now and my dream was anti-government.  Or maybe I’m against the technology that takes ten to fifteen seconds to brighten the room whenever I flip a switch.  I’m like everyone else, when I want light, I want it immediately. Who knows, but this thief had the old time black mask. I somehow saw him in my mind before I got up, which should have been my first clue that he didn’t exist.

Retrieving my trusty Louisville Slugger from behind the bed, I slowly walked out to the den and checked one door, club at the ready. (Yes, I am an Army certified expert marksman who doesn’t keep a weapon in the house – unless you are a bad guy, and then I have an arsenal.) Door one, secure. Stumble on to door two – secure. The kitchen is declared safe. Front door, fine. Back door, copacetic. Even in my foggy state, something told me not to try the stairs…I didn’t listen to myself.

I stormed downward, ‘Old Hickory’ at the ready, around the strategically positioned sectionals all facing the TV screen, all the way to the door which was tightly locked. Hmmm, nothing to worry about. A yawn. A scratch. I drag my old bat like the Mighty Casey trudging back to the dugout and went to sleep.

Little did I know that to the television watchers in the basement, I had become the entertainment for the evening. I never realized they were there.

Two things to preface the story:

1 Because I rise so early. I typically fall asleep long before the rest of my family. Often in a chair or on the floor where I pick myself up from a puddle of drool, then wearily migrate to bed…which is a problem because:

2. It’s kind of a nightly crapshoot as to whether I have the acumen to dress properly….

I don’t know who was in my basement, or what stage of dress I was in. I haven’t heard from the sheriff’s office, so I assume I was covered. Now that I think about it, I wonder if the bulb thief himself was down there eating my chips and drinking my Dr. Pepper!

If I had had one brain synapse firing, I could have just flipped a switch and known if my bulbs were gone.

But I would have had to wait those accursed 10 to 15 seconds!

                   जय रक्तदाता

बात 1974 की हैं तब मैं  नौ साल की थी. हम हरियाणा के जींद मे रहते थे. वहां शाम को अक्सर रेस्ट हाउस मे खेलने जाते. वहाँ  एक पानी से भरा pond था. खेलते खेलते अचानक एक लडकी उसमें  गिर गई बच्चे तो बहुत खेल् रहे थे पर मैने आगे बढ कर  उसे डूबने से  बचाया.  दिन सभी बच्चे मेरी जयजयकार करते  हुए  उस लडकी को घर ले गए. उस दिन के बाद से  और लगभग आज से तीन साल पहले तक मैं यह बात हर किसी को बताती कि मैने एक बच्ची को डूबने से बचाया.( वैसे वो लडकी आज चंढीगढ मे सफल वकील है) 

पर तीन साल पहले जब मुझे  रक्तदान के बारे मे जानकारी हुई और  मैने इस क्षेत्र मे काम करना शुरु किया तो उस बचपन की धटना को मै बिल्कुल भूलती चली गई. तीन साल पहले एक मित्र का फोन आया कि 2 साल की बच्ची के दिल आप्रेशन होना है खून चाहिए तब  संजय गुप्ता जी की मदद से दो चार डाक्टरो को फोन किया और  अनायास ही उस बच्ची की मदद  हो गई यानि खून का इंतजाम करवा दिया और दस दिन बाद बच्ची  सकुशल घर लौट गई. इसके बाद और भी फोन आने लगे और  मैने अपना देश भर में नेट वर्क बनाना शुरु किया और तब से अब तक कितने  लोगो की मदद कर चुकी हू अब गिनती भी नही है इसके लिए मेरा अकेली का  योगदान नही था. इसके लिए मेरे मित्र  बहुत सहायक सिद्द हुए हालाकि बहुत को तो मैं जानती भी नही हू मात्र फोन पर ही बात हुई  पर यह जरुर पता था कि यह लोग रक्तदान के प्रति बेहद बेहद जागरुक है और वाकई मे इस क्षेत्र मे कुछ करना चाहते हैं

14 जून वर्ड ब्लड डोनर्स डे के उपलक्ष मे मैं अपने कुछ रक्तदाता  दोस्तों को धन्यवाद देना चाह्ती हूं  डाक्टर संगीता पाठक(दिल्ली), डाक्टर रवनीत कौर(चंडीगढ), श्री राकेश सांगर (पंचकुला) , दिल्ली की ब्लड कनेक्ट की पूरी कर्मठ, जोशीली और मेहनती  टीम,  श्री राजेंद्र महेश्वरी(भीलवाडा), श्री दीपक शुक्ला(जलगांव) , डाक्टर सोनू सिह (दिल्ली),  जगदीश कुमार (जम्मू) संगीता वधवा(मुम्बई) 

बात ये नही है कि ये कहाँ  कहां रहते हैं  आज आन लाईन के जमाने मे सब तुरंत हो जाता है. इन  का नेट वर्क इतना मजबूत है कि कोशिश करके ये कही न कही से रक्तदाता खोज ही लेते हैं आज की तारीख मे मेरे पास ऐसे 30 से ज्यादा नाम हैं जो इस क्षेत्र मे अभूतपूर्व कार्य कर रहे हैं और मेरा प्रयास यही रहता है कि आज की तारीख मे किसी भी जरुरत मंद का फोन आए तो मै कैसे भी करके मदद कर सकूं.

इन सभी ने मुझे विश्वास जताया है कि जब भी रक्त की जरुरत हो आप फोन करिए इंतजाम हो जाएगा. मुझे लगता है कि दुख और परेशानी की घडी मे अगर ये शब्द सुनने को मिल जाए तो तकलीफ आधी हो जाती है. 

बेशक, रक्तदान के क्षॆत्र मे अभी बहुत बदलाव आना बाकि है लोगो मे जागरुकता लानी बहुत जरुरी है पर जब ऐसे कर्मठ और मेहनती लोग होंगें तो जल्द ही वो दिन भी आएगा कि जब देश मे शत प्रतिशत स्वैच्छिक रक्तदान होगा. 

यकीन मानिए बहुत खुशी का अहसास होता है जब वो स्वस्थ होकर घर चला जाते  है. जरुरतमंंद को जब कहती हूं कि आप चिंता मत कीजिए इंतजाम हो जाएगा तो उसकी फोन पर भराई आवाज मे जो एक खुशी झलकती है वो बयान नही की जा सकती. यकीन मानिए उस दिन खुशी के मारे  भूख प्यास भी उड जाती है.

अंत मैं बहुत  बहुत धन्यवाद देती हूँ डाक्टर युद्दबीर सिह ख्यालिया जी का जिन्होने मुझे ISBTI( इंडियन सोसाईटी आफ ब्लड ट्रासफ्यूजन एंड ईम्योनोहैमोटोलोजी) के माध्यम से रक्तदान की महत्ता से रुबरु करवाया.

मोनिका गुप्ता

From the archives of the Portsong Guardian, dated May 1924:

A great loss occurred in Portsong today. Mae Wilkin’s cow, Flossie, took ill several weeks ago and poor Mae found her hooves up in her pen this morning. Since Flossie routinely slept in that position, Doc Harkins is not quite sure of the time of death as Mae can’t seem to recall the last time she saw her upright. The old doc is quite sure she has passed, though.

The death of Flossie not only leaves an empty stall in Mae’s stable, it leaves a great loss to the farming community at large. In 1908, Mae’s late husband, Homer discovered Flossie had quite a knack for weather prognostication. While his peers mostly considered him a lunatic, Homer persevered in honing the skills of his heifer until he finally won over believers after she correctly predicted the great hailstorm of March 1910.

His description of her amazing talent was detailed in the transcript of a radio interview by noted Savannah broadcaster Edwin F. Teague:

EFT: How did you come upon the discover of her ability?

HW: I began to noticin’ she always worked her cud on the left. I thought that to be a might peculiar, so I asked her about it one day.

EFT: You talk to her?

HW: Why sure I do. I talk to all of ’em. It sooths ‘em to hear my voice. No good milkin’ ’em without talkin’ sweet to ’em first. They’d squirt out beans or nothing at all if they weren’t peaceful! Anyhow, she didn’t have no answer. But the nexday, just by chance, I noticed she were workin’ it on the right. On about noontime, the sky opened up and cut loose a fierce storm.

EFT: So you noticed a pattern after that day?

HW: Yesir. It happened thataway every time. In fact, when it got to be planting season, I went out to see which side she was chewin’ on before I did anythin’.

EFT: Did you have trouble convincing other farmers about this skill?

HW: At first. If I were at the feed store out yonder in Linkston, I’d tell ’em what the day held and they’d laugh at old Homer. But after I was right so many a time, they had to listen to me. When I told ‘em it were Flossie, they laughed at me until the big storm in 19 and 10 turned out to be the Mighty Hailer! They quit their laughing after that.

EFT: Yes, how did you get from rain prediction to a storm of such magnitude?

HW: Well, it goed like this. When I went out to the field that day to check the weather, she had her mouth filled triple full and slop were coming out both sides. So I know’d it were something unusual coming. I asked her if it were so and she just lowered her big, soft brown eyes to the ground and I knew. I went running around town tell folks to tie down the winders, ‘cause I knew a big ‘un was on its way.

EFT: She prevented a great deal of loss that day. Thank you for your fascinating story, Mr. Wilkins.

Ironically, directly across from the story on page 13 was the following advertisement:

Wanted: The Portsong Guardian is seeking a weatherman for immediate duty. Part time - morning hours. Pay commensurate with experience. Bovine preferred.

Photo credit: William Warby (Flickr: Cow)