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To share...





As I was walking on the narrow pavements flooded with rain water near my college, I saw an old man with a heavily rimmed, almost broken pair of glasses just sticking to his nose. He was very feeble and exhausted of all spirit. He wore a tattered and almost brown dhoti and was barefoot, leaning on a stick. He sat on one corner and started to open his packet of food that he had luckily earnt for the day. 

His hands terribly shook when he unwound the packet and by the time he opened it, half the food was spilt on the ground and he had just a bare minimum to fill his stomach with. He laid the packet slowly on the ground and started to eat it.

Just as he was beginning to eat, there was a stray dog beside him lying on the hard floor. It seemed to be recently stoned in a terrible way, that it was even unable to move, it kept looking at his packet of food with yearning eyes. The old man looked at the dog, he stared at it quietly for a while, and then to my surprise, his face carried a weak upward curve. He silently laid half of the food he had in front of the ragged dog and quietly started munching away his share of the stale rice.

Tears pounded on to my cheeks as I saw this act of his. I went near him and handed him a 10 rupee note and resumed my pace. There are a very few people with such a generous nature 'To share'. From the elementary level, we are all told stories just to imbibe in us, the goodness of sharing things with each other, but in reality it is inscribed in the hearts of a very few. 

The old man might have never stepped into school, never been told stories about so many good things that we have learnt. But he had in him, even though unmistakably poor and ignorant, the precious characterestic to share anything he got with somebody or some being in his life.


All images used in this post belongs to Vinod Velayudhan, a photographer who records beautiful moments and delivers precious memories. Visit his site www.vinodvv.com to view his pictures.

Comments

  1. Well done. Heartfelt too.

    Joy always,
    Susan

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  2. Touching post Gayatri . The part about that person not having attended any school asks hard hitting questions . Some time back I had written a short fiction on very similar lines . http://www.jaishwrites.blogspot.sg/2012/09/the-family-share.html

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    Replies
    1. Thank you so much Jaish :) Will definitely read your story :)

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  3. A wonderful one Gayathree!! He I think is the best person..... :)

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    Replies
    1. Thank you for dropping in Akash :)

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  4. Heart melting one Gayu. He is an example.Good post :)

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  6. Well done for giving him a 10 rupee note. Sharing and caring doesn't come with education, rather it comes with experience. :)

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    Replies
    1. True that Sivaranjani :) Thank you for reading :)

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  7. Nice one :)
    Remembered a quote which I read somewhere long back - "The poor are the best in sharing, as they know the pangs of suffering"

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    Replies
    1. very true, A poor man is rich at heart than a wealthy miser. :) Thank you for reading Kaushik. :)

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  8. Really good :')
    Simple incidents change our perceptions to life and our thoughts.

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    Replies
    1. yes yes :) and I'm happy it happened to me. :) Thank you Lak :)

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  9. That was an emotional and heartfelt tale, Gee. Be it fiction or poetry, you write really well. Keep at it! :)

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FEBRUARY 15th, 2012





















What writing means to me...

As lonely as a cloud, as boring as boredom itself, I was. I grew up as a typical child at school but a very hefty one, I am still the same. I managed to cheer people with my innocence but did not manage to make happy friends to last a lifetime because of my gross physique. I couldn't play as I had no playmates at home and my only hobby was to sit and watch tv.

When I was studying in kindergarten, I used to visit a nearby shop with my dad. My dad was busy shopping for groceries and I engaged myself in observing things around me. The people who had mixed emotions that outshone on their faces, an old man cycling with a lot of strain, probably getting back home, the lady vendor with her dirty saree pinned up to her waist and squatting on the floor, selling vegetables, the autowala bargaining with his potential customer, the green trees which arched high with its countless leaves, the flowers that smile at me on the road side, happy child…