TWO JOKES

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ON THE BANKS OF THE YAMUNA

I have always been an aimless wanderer all my life. It was no surprise then that I landed in the Holy City of Mathura one fine morning.

Having no particular agenda on my mind, I let my feet take me wherever they would; and thus it was that I landed at this secluded spot on the banks of the river Yamuna. Once there, I made myself comfortable; just lying down under a shady tree. There was serenity in the atmosphere, the river flowing quietly by. I was enjoying the peace. I don’t remember how long it was but suddenly  it was evening, just about time for the cowherds to gather their herds and head back to their village.

Just then, I heard some musical notes wafting their way from across the river. Ah, someone was playing the flute. I strained my eyes to check who it was, but in the prevailing haze could only make out that it was a boy who had a flute pressed against his lips, surrounded by cows and leaning against one of them. I was spellbound. I had heard the original flute maestros Pannalal Ghosh, Keshav Dhorda and even the modern day Ronu Mazumdar cast their spell on the audience and had swayed to their music just like  a cobra would before a snakecharmer.

But this? This was just out of this world! Soul stirring? Nay, simply DIVINE!!!.

Who could this boy be? A fallen angel?  Or an advanced soul fallen from grace because his meditation was interrupted by some heavenly damsel and who, therefore, was cursed to do some penance on earth?

Just as I was trying to find an answer to my questions, I saw a sublime figure going heavenwards. Whereas I could not see the face; the distinct crown with peacock feathers gave away the identity! Krishna?  LORD KRISHNA?!!! Had He come down again to his beloved Gokul and Vrindavan just to relive his childhood  days and revive old memories even if fora very short while?

I headed home, truly blessed!

 

Follow the Breeze

A soft breeze is coming

To take my mind away

Having moved the clouds

Just as a shepherd tends his sheep

Setting  the seawaves rocking

Swaying the flowers in garden

Inspiring my feet to dance

Asking me to leave my cares behind

Scale one mountain  after  another

Hop from star to star

And swim the seven seas.

 

PUNISHING THE STOOGE

One very hilarious incident comes to mind. No need to check its veracity. I swear by it.

During the Quit India movement of 1942, there was no senior leader left to guide the Nation after they were all arrested on the 9th August. Many Freedom Fighters went underground to keep the struggle alive in any manner they thought fit – not always non-violent. And many new leaders emerged, as if from nowhere, in various parts of India.

One such, who had a large following of volunteers, was in Ahmedabad. Being on the
“WANTED” list of the British Government, he went into hiding. There was an Indian Police Officer who was responsible for the arrest and subsequent sentencing of quite a few Freedom Fighters who were languishing in jail then. This had angered this leader who had vowed to put a gun up this officer’s behind, if ever he was caught.

One unfortunate day, this  “braveheart” ventured into the Khadia area in Ahmedabad, known for its maze of lanes and by-lanes and which even the police feared to enter. He was spotted, overpowered and brought before this leader for delivering justice!

A court martial was held and this Officer, now trembling and with  tears in his eyes, was pleading  for mercy! What mercy? Had he shown any while arresting the Freedom Fighters?

By now, quite a crowd had gathered to witness the proceedings. They were all baying for his blood. By and large, everyone hated those in Government service and they were looked down upon as British Stooges.

Mercy petition dismissed, the leader asked for a Twelve Bore Gun, which was quickly produced. Remembering his vow, he loaded it with a cartridge and placed it… you know where! The pronouncer of the judgement was also going to be its executioner!

The Officer, now certain of his end, started crying. The  crowd  was waiting with bated breath to witness the public execution of a police officer. The countdown began. One, Two, Three—–BOOM! There was a loud retort sending a few pigeons feeding nearby, fluttering away. The next moment, a roar of laughter rent the air.

The leader had fired a blank!!!

 

MONSOON

Leaping over the southern mountains,

Accompanied by thunder,

The rains have arrived.

Having eclipsed the sun,

The moon and the stars,

And holding lightning as a torch,

To show it the path.

When as a drizzle,

Parched  Mother Earth

Spreads its scent,

And when it pours,

Flooding rivers, ponds and lakes,

Happy is mankind

And thanks the Lord.

For the Bounty He has sent.

 

Monsoon Beauty

There goes the rain

Having stolen my heart and mind

That pretty danseuse – lightning

Mesmerizing me

By her steps

Totally in tune with thunder

The stream of water coming down

Set to a heavenly rhythm

Accompanied by a deep drumming sound

Driving the wind crazy

Running hither thither

What beauty the dark clouds have

What magic they posses

My mind stays still

Beholden by its beauty