A tree of ripe fruits........

In that dense forest, innumerable trees grew, rather thrived. The competition for light and water and space being so high that it seemed that each one intimidated the other by its sheer size. Some of them fruit bearing, out of which the fruits of some were edible while the others were abhorrent. The animals and birds jumping all over in all the tress; but there was one tree which was distinctly unique, as many birds made it their home.

The reason being the fruits in it. Rich ripe fruits, helping the winged species to thrive and breed. The tree inherently a bit sad when some of its ripe fruits were targeted, while it was imagining a life to be spent with its off springs, the fruits, especially the ripe ones. But little did it realise that a tree which yields ripe fruits is always a target not just for birds but the human species as well. It is probably a way to energise and motivate the tree to bear more fruits and in the process become an incon which gives for the betterment of others.

Just so, in our case, when we lose something - an object dear to us or somebody dear to us, can it be looked at as a way of the higher power pushing us to learn to give, and help us in the process of ripening spiritually? Is the higher power, sculpting us to be something better by taking us through the acid test? Are we in a way chosen from the crowd? If so, why would I not be ready to lose? After all, do I really lose anything, for I dont think I own any thing now nor did I own anything in the past and never shall in the future. Probably am just a temporary caretaker so what is wrong if the rightful owner takes things back?

Two poems that impressed me........

Some poems have left a lasting impression in me. "Leisure" and "The Solitary Reaper" are two such poems. Some how I have felt these yearnings in me but never can ever be so articulate, so if this interests you please do read.

Leisure

WHAT is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—

No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

There are different expressions and metaphors here where the poet says that we neither have the time to enjoy even small events of beauty or be at leisure over an extended period of time. This brings to my mind a discourse titled "life and inner leisure by Swami Dayananda Saraswathy".

The Solitary Reaper

BEHOLD her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.


No Nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.


Will no one tell me what she sings?—
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?


Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;—
I listen'd, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.

History.

Many people define History, as the story of the victor as told by himself or herself, or by others on his or her behalf.

But to know the full story, we need to get a glimpse into the other side as well, and mostly it is not possible. However, there is one such story, which as indians, we should be aware of. The uncensored version of the statement in court made by Nathuram Godse, which has recently been put on web. The Marathi play "Me Nathuram Godse Boltoy" was banned by the Maharashtra government some years ago, probably at the behest of their masters.

Nevertheless, if you have the patience and interest, go to

http://www.nathuramgodse.com/

Further just to arouse some interest in you, is the quote from the Judge who handled this case, Justice Khosla:

Justice Khosla after retirement. in a pen picture of the Court scene as it then passed before his mind's eye has said:

"The highlight of the appeal before us was the discourse delivered by Nathuram Godse in his defense. He spoke for several hour' s, discussing,, in the first instance, the facts of the case and then the motive which had prompted him to take Mahatma Gandhi's life ...... "The audience was visibly and audibly moved. There was a deep silence when he ceased speaking. Many women were in tears and men coughing and searching for their handkerchiefs. The silence was accentuated and made deeper by the sound of an occasional subdued sniff or a muffled cough...

"I have however, no doubt that had the audience of that day been constituted into a jury and entrusted with the task of deciding Godse's appeal, they would have brought in a verdict of `not guilty' by an overwhelming majority."

Nathuram had displayed the same ability while arguing his case before Shri Atma Charan, the Judge of the Special Court, Red Fort, Delhi.

Laxmi Mittal on TATAs......................

Most of you know Lakshmi Mittal is one of the most>successful business men in the world as well as one of the richest (top 5).

A piece of interesting News on Tata Steel as expressed by Lakshmi Mittal

Quote:Following is a note written by Lakshmi Mittal after his visit to TISCO recently: I visited Jamshedpur over the weekend to see for myself an India that is fast disappearing despite all the wolf-cries of people like Narayanamurthy and his like. It is one thing to talk and quite another to do and I am delighted to tell you that Ratan Tata has kept alive the legacy of perhaps India's finest industrialist J.N. Tata. Something that some people doubted when Ratan took over the House of the Tata's but in hindsight, the best thing to have happened to the Tata's is unquestionably Ratan. I was amazed to see the extent of corporate philanthropy and this is no exaggeration. For the breed that talks about corporate social responsibility and talks about the role of corporate India, a visit to Jamshedpur is a must. Go there and see the amount of money they pump into keeping the town going; see the smiling faces of workers in a region known for industrial unrest; see the standard of living in a city that is almost isolated from the mess in the rest of the country. This is not meant to be a puff piece. I have nothing to do with Tata Steel, but I strongly believe the message of hope and the message of goodness that they are spreading is worth sharing. The fact that you do have companies in India which look at workers as human beings and who do not blow their software trumpet of having changed lives. In fact, I asked Mr. Muthuraman, the managing director, as to why he was so quiet about all they had done and all he could offer in return was a smile wrapped in humility, which said it all. They have done so much more since I last visited Jamshedpur, which was in 1992. The town has obviously got busier but the values thankfully h haven't changed. The food is still as amazing as it always was and I gorged, as I would normally do. I visited the plant and the last time I did that was with Russi Mody. But the plant this time was gleaming and far from what it used to be. Greener and cleaner and a tribute to environment management. You could have been in the mountains. Such was the quality of air I inhaled! There was no belching smoke; no tired faces and so many more women workers, even on the shop floor. This is true gender equality and not the kind that is often espoused at seminars organised by angry activists. I met so many old friends. Most of them have aged but not grown old. There was a spring in the air which came from a certain calmness which has always been the hallmark of Jamshedpur and something I savoured for a full two days in between receiving messages of how boring and decrepit the lack lustre Fashion Week was. Jam shedji Nusserwanji Tata had created an edifice that is today a robust company and it is not about profits and about valuation. It is not about who becomes a millionaire and who doesn't. It is about getting the job done with dignity and respect keeping the age-old values intact and this is what I learnt. I jokingly asked someone as to whether they ever thought of joining an Infosys or a Wipro and pat came the reply: "We are not interested in becoming crorepatis but in making others crorepatis." Which is exactly what the Tata's have done for years in and around Jamshedpur. Very few people know that Jamshedpur has been selected as a UN Global Compact City, edging out the other nominee from India, Bangalore. Selected because of the quality of life, because of the conditions of sanitation and roads and welfare. If this is not a tribute to industrial India, then what is? Today, India needs several Jamshedpurs but it also needs this Jamshedpur to be given its fair due, its recognition. am tired of campus visits being publicised to the Infosys and the Wipro's of the world. Modern India is being built in Jamshedpur as we speak. An India built on the strength of core convictions and nothing was more apparent about that than the experiment with truth and reality that Tata Steel is conducting at Pipla. Forty-eight tribal girls (yes, tribal girls who these corrupt and evil politicians only talk about but do nothing for) are being educated through a residential program over nine months. I went to visit them and I spoke to them in a language that they have just learnt: Bengali. Eight weeks ago, they could only speak in Sainthali, their local dialect. But today, they are brimming with a confidence that will bring tears to your eyes. It did to mine. One of them has just been selected to represent Jharkand in the state archery competition. They have their own women's football team and what's more they are now fond of education. It is a passion and not a burden. This was possible because I guess people like Ratan Tata and Muthuraman haven't sold their souls to some business management drivel, which tells us that we must only do business and nothing else. The fact that not one Tata executive has been touched by the Naxalites in that area talks about the social respect that the Tata's have earned. The Tata's do not need this piece to be praised and lauded. My intent is to share the larger picture that we so often miss in the haze of the slime and sleaze that politics imparts. My submissions to those who use phrases such as "feel-good" and " India Shining" is first visit Jamshedpur to understand what it all means. See Tata Steel in action to know what companies can do if they wish to. And what corporate India needs to do. Murli Manohar Joshi would be better off seeing what Tata Steel has done by creating the Xavier Institute of Tribal Education rather than by proffering excuses for the imbroglio in the IIMs. This is where the Advanis and Vajpayees need to pay homage. Not to all the Sai Babas and the Hugging saints that they are so busy with. India is changing inspite of them and they need to realise that. I couldn't have spent a more humane and wonderful weekend. Jamshedpur is an eye-opener and a role model, which should be made mandatory for replication. I saw corporate India actually participate in basic nation-building, for when these tribal girls go back to their villages, they will return with knowledge that will truly be life-altering. Corporate India can do it but most of the time is willing to shy away. For those corporate leaders who are happier winning awards and being interviewed on their choice of clothes, my advise is visit Tata Steel, spend some days at Jamshedpur and see a nation's transformation. That is true service and true nationalism. Tata Steel will celebrate 100 years of existence in 2007. It won't be just a milestone in this company's history. It will be a milestone, to my mind of corporate transparency and generosity in this country. It is indeed fitting that Ratan Tata today heads a group which has people who are committed to nation-building than just building influence and power. JRD must be smiling wherever he is. And so must Jamshedji Nusserwanji!

Unquote:

Patriotic fervour...................shouldn't you be proud?????????

The Buddha, Adi Sankara, St. Thomas, and many other great saints walked this land, taught various philosophies, but uniformly preached, brotherhood and love for god. The land of great epics, fantastic mythologies, upanishads, vedas.........what else, oh yes, the Ramayana, Mahabaratha and ofcourse the famous Bhagavad Gita..........so many god men thereafter, who have been revered not just by people of this country but from far and wide.

A time when the principle of Dharma ruled, more than the man made laws, rules and regulations. A period when life was definitely better off. Definitely a period, of which people would have been proud of, and today's generation, may be yearns for it.

These were probably a bit far off in the time line for our generation.

Let us get to a time which is more closer to our horizons.

People who fought for independence, people who industrialised this nation, people who fought against some of the despicable practices in the society, should we not be proud of the Tatas, Birlas, Rammohan Roys, Bharathis.......Then we also had the Jinnahs, Gandhis and Nehrus and the British. British ruled over us, enslaved us (which we let them do as well and then were whimpering) but instilled a strict sense of discipline in general walks of life. Not that we didn't have it before, but earlier it was dictated by a different system which had its own flop sides as well. The British, ensured that some of the indians remained an underprivileged lot, but they brought science into this country, and also taught politics to the otherwise lay Indians, introduced the constitution, law, railways alongwith Jallianwala Bagh. But the trains ran on time and you didnt have to bribe a government official for your ration card!

So we may not be completely proud of this period as it had its shades of grey as well, but still took us forward.

Then let us get a bit closer, zooming into the last 30-40 years. I recently read a book by Thomas Friedman. In that book, he compares the politicians of the US and China. Most of the top politicians in China, are either from a Science or Engineering background while in the US most of them are lawyers. That is the reason he states that the quality of the next generation in the US oriented towards Science or engineering is so dismal as against China, or even India.

The Indians being oriented towards science or engineering, please don't mistakenly attribute it to the background of our politicans. Friedman would have given up writing if he had read the CVs of our politicians.

Politicians in this country, not all, but most of them based on which we can have it as a generic theory - are corrupt, uneducated, or even close to being illiterate. But some of the uneducated ones had commonsense and have done great good for the country like the Kamarajs, but that is a rarity. What you see today is a state which subsidises liquor, in the interest of the health of its public (please dont search for logic here!), gives everything at close to free of cost, in the name of support, but then what would motivate the beneficiaries to ever contribute to this society.

Early morning, when I go for a walk, the one thing which stands as an eyesore is the rampant tea shops in the city of chennai. A bunch of idle fellows, with the choicest of filthy language, squatting in front of the tea shops or a nearby house and talking loudly, disturbing the otherwise pleasant morning. The ladies who unfortunately married these worms, have to slog as domestic helps, while these enjoy the cheap, bottled liquor from the government outlets.

Am absolutely proud of this, are you not?

Merit - Screw it. Everything has to be caste based in this secular nation. Don't worry, you did read it correctly, just a juxtaposition of oxymorons but that is what our country is. The Singh & Singh Co., have been wreaking destruction on the student masses for their own political gain. A political party which has been in the forefront of this country's freedom struggle doesn't have an indigenous leader, while another is like a flock of sheep, raided by a lion, chaotic and disoriented. But when you ask these so called leaders about what they do to improve primary education, it is as good as shouting this same question into the Grand Canyon! There you will hear an echo probably but here, nothing. I was reading in one of the leading national dailies, that some girl students who were studying in the government run schools in chennai, have quit, as the toilets are completely unusable leading to infections.

Are you still not proud of being a citizen of this holy land? If not, then either my language is bad or you didn't understand a wee bit of this crap.

OK, let us look at ourselves - the CITIZENS of this glorious land. Public Convenience - is meant to be kept clean, so relieve yourself and enjoy nature on the road side. So what is the argument the mobile sprinklers offer - biodegradable!!!!!!!!!!! Pavements are not meant for walking, they are for shops, or hawkers. Hesitant they start, and after a few months, make a rightful claim, and what do you have when the government (if at all it acts) acts, a fantastic stay order from an authority which spends most of its time, doling them out. DAMINI, the movie which created a stir in its time, echoed this frustration, when the protagonist shouts his throat out to the judge - "what do you have to offer, dates, and dates and dates and ...........dates".

More than anything else, recently the USS Nimitz anchored off the chennai port, and the sailors of Nimitz, were seen doing community service, cleaning up the garbage in some places in chennai. Wow! chennaiites - Great to feel about oneself, we need a bunch of sailors to get off a warship and clean our mess. Take a walk along the marina beach in the morning, you will never see sand, you may speckles of sand amidst plastic and rubbish.

Are you still not proud of yourself? Holy cow, you are extremely indifferent then.

Come on, this is the software hub of the world, IT of the world is dependent on this subcontinent, why are you still not proud or is it that am such a deep rooted pessimist. I know your question - so what the hell have you been doing? Well, I pay my taxes, sincerely follow the signals and rules, renew my license, insurance and passports on time, and do what the government tells me to do and never deliberately violate others' rights. Whenever i have issues, i dont resort to violence, take it up with the authorities but nothing happens after that, and hey i do cast my vote, but i don't have much choice there, and most important i have stopped blaming the government because they are not supposed to do anything! I have also realised recently that in democracy you have the liberty to choose your tyrant while no other system offers this luxury.!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am still proud, cos, despite all these challenges thrown, the country is still surviving and doing well. The meritorious crowd survives somewhere, and succeed and help in sustaining this land. In your body exist parasites, bacteria and virus, but the person is alive with all these, maybe at some stage, you are afflicted and then die, but as of now, my country is living, but there is enough infection to kill it, what i dont know is the age upto which it will live or its tenacity to bear, resist and fight. I will share another article about TATAs and that is written by none other than Laxmi Mittal their competitor. I may not have many reasons to be proud of the administration or the lack of it, or the political system but am proud of some Indians, for sure.

Are you proud?

Tradition....

A very religious man, of conventions and traditions, that was what he was lately, as years rolled on. He was not like this when young. He had studied medicine, been a famous doctor, had a good practise and made lot of money. His wife a beautiful lady, now with a face more kindly looking , more modest, not in any hurry to impress others with her beauty as was her wont during her younger days. Theirs was an arranged marriage, but neither of them had any regrets whatsoever, they had a good life, good family , and procreated one son, a brilliant sharp minded lad, who was becoming an engineer. The father had traveled far and wide, been to the US many times. He had stayed away from family for months, when he was specializing in his studies, he used to commute between the US and his native place about 4-5 times a year. Every stay of his in the US was for about 4-6 weeks. He learnt the advanced technologies of his field and was one of the few world renowned brain surgeons.

He looked very smart in his younger days. He was given to enjoying the fun and frivolity of life as they came, but never did he run after them. He didn’t take to drugs or liquor, but he enjoyed the company of his colleagues , both male and female, going out for parties, hiking, Christmas eves etc. Kate was one of his best friends. A brilliant young doctor from Florida, she had come to the same university as he was, for improving her proficiency and she was one of the select few students to be admitted to that course, where he was a part time teacher. They were not so young to be differentiated as student and teacher, but that was the position they had. A blonde young girl, of very good attractive features. He a smart young occidental lad, who had just married but had to leave his wife behind to pursue his studies. His wife stayed with her parents to complete her collegiate education. Their friendship was not one which demanded. At the same time, she was aware of his marital status and background and she was in no hurry for marriage, not until she finished her education and specialization in her field of medicine. They had a very special attraction to each other, a blind one probably. She appreciated his expertise in the subject , sense of quick wit and humour. She was staying in the hostel and alone, while he was alone too during his stay there. It happened during one of the weekends, when he was invited to her place for dinner. Everything was to be blamed, the ambience, the weather, the music in the room and the smell of good food, and the fine French wine. He was about to leave, while she held his hand for a second and looked into his eyes. Her eyes blue, and soft, he had never seen her from such close quarters. The time span extended from just the second, and things went out of control, which led them to a blissful night.

The next morning was bright and sunny, the flowers white, just outside the window, and a small sparrow perched on the sill calling for her mate. They both apologized for the erratic night, but then they didn’t give a second thought later and they left for their classes. Three weeks later she left, bidding him farewell and he returned back to his native place to practice medicine. They never met again and those days were not one of email communication. It was history which faded into the depths of the cranial cavities never to be seen again.

He knew how the gray matter worked, and what could go wrong if he touched the wrong part of the brain with his scalpel during a surgery. Yet he never understood emotions, or how they originated, and what made the human mind so complex. But all set and done, he was the only Indian in the world’s most famous panel of brain surgeons. He had performed about 300 operations during his 2 year stay in the US while also studying. He still had a few good friends left in the US. These had happened 23 years ago. His son was 24 now. He was surprised at how time flew. His wife enjoyed the company of the society’s elite , the wife of judges, police chiefs, ministers. Their party was always a congregation of the town’s “Who is who”.

That day she came back excited after a party. It was five days since their son had left for the US for his masters. She came in hurriedly and he was reclining in a couch reading the evening’s newspaper. She desperately wanted to share the gossip from the party.

“Why are you so tense” he asked.
“You will be too, if you know what I know.”
“So will I be told….?” He asked
“I don’t know how to tell you. It is about the daughter of Mrs. Grewal, the police chief’s wife.”
“What happened?”
“Mrs. Grewal’s daughter is in love.”
”And you think that is important news…..” he asked quizzically.
“No, not that but the fact that she is in love with her cousin, who is blood related. Isn’t that incest? A sin? And she is proud to share it with us as a news. And the tragedy is they have found a way to make this work.”

Now he was intrigued, he sat up, folding the newspaper…
“How…”
“Oh. They are going to give their son in adoption to one of their relatives, so that they are not related in anyway and the marriage can still happen”.
“Wow… that is interesting. But giving him in adoption, how does that remove the blood relationship or lineage or whatever it is??”
“It seems that is what the pundits have told them and it is supposed to be in line with the scriptures or traditional practice , who knows and I don’t care, I couldn’t tolerate what she said, such nauseating ideas and justifications. Couldn’t she or the boy find any one else in this whole world to fall in love and marry. She studied abroad, she could have married a boy from there, than going through this shameful act.” She was panting now.

“I agree with you, this is absolutely unheard of, and worse is the way to make this work. Why can’t they talk to them and explain it, and avoid this marriage.”
“I suggested that, and you know Mrs. Grewal gave me a look which could have turned me to ashes, as if I was the person committing the mistake and she was right. I don’t plan to attend the marriage and neither do I plan to make this friendship work. I am through with her. A family of no values, no culture , tradition….. I am going mad thinking of this.”

It was five months after this happened. Mrs. Grewal and her husband came to visit them and extended an invitation for the wedding. Though tense and burning inside, she was an epitome of outward calmness, while he had a cool discussion. Mr. Grewal explained how they were helpless, and finally they had to go through this process of ‘adoptive marriage’ to make things work.

‘But Mr.Grewal does it change any of the fact that they are brothers and sisters, though not immediate but still….?” He queried surprised.

‘I know sir, but there is no point in talking to them any more, they are firm, and after having waited for 4 months if things wont change, I don’t want to be a cause for their unhappiness in the immediate future. So saying he gave the invitation card and left.

“These people can’t convince their own children, and yield so readily. What a shame?” he said as he was reading the card.
“You still are curious to read the invitation card!!” she scorned at him.

The marriage was a week later. On the day of the marriage, as is the case everywhere, they attended, even though they didn’t prefer to. It was to be seen rubbing shoulders with the elite members who had come to attend the function. It was an assemblage of the society’s rich and famous. It was a short visit, for less than an hour, and they left home.

As soon as they arrived, there was a telegram. It was from the US. Their son was getting married within two days. The girl was American.

The mother was furious, confused, exasperated, everything. Within minutes she felt that the world was crumbling down and the floor below her feet slipping. So was he, unable to react, as the momentum of the matter was not fully in. He was the first to recover.

”Ok, what is there to be upset about this, anyway. He has liked a girl there and he is getting married. So what?. You said that it was OK with Mrs. Grewal’s daughter, so why not with our son.?”

She took some time to come back to her senses, and said, I just didn’t expect this. I thought our son would be as religious and traditional as we are.

Just because the boy is marrying a girl of his choice doesn’t mean he is not religious. Further she is a computer engineer and from a good family, at least that’s what he says, so why bother. We will talk to him tonight OK, now relax.

That evening, he called up his son, and spoke

“Appa, hope you have read my message by now. She is my colleague, studying with me, and both of us have thought it out well. We are confident of landing good jobs. We have been contacted by some of the leading firms, and in a matter of 3-4 months, we will be well settled. She and I are the toppers from the University, she is very beautiful, blue eyed, I will send you her foto later appa.” It was one continuous non-stop litany.

“See my son, we were a bit disturbed when we read the telegram, but later mother and I have thought it out, and we have no issues with this. But our request is, as soon as you get married, please come down with the bride, so that we can complete some of our family traditions. Is that OK?” he said. His wife was standing next to him, listening to the conversation over the speaker phone, and she added

“What do you mean asking him if it is OK. He should come. That is it. No more arguments.” She said

“Ok amma, no problems we will come don’t worry. We are planning to get married exactly a month from now. I showed her your photographs, and she said that you were very cute amma. OK got to go now, bye”.

The line clicked and went dead.

On the day of the marriage, the telephone line between the US and the parents’ house was busy, talking to their son and their new daughter-in-law. After about an hour, it was decided that they will come to India in a weeks time to complete the traditional practices of the family, which involved, going to some of the temples of their family deities, and completing other rituals at home.

The great day came and they drove to the airport. All the relations had come. There were about 50 of them at home, very close relatives and friends. The flight was on time, and the father met his son and his daughter in law at the airport. She was dressed in a sari, and he was very surprised. Though a corner of his heart ached, at the non-Indian bride, sari was a consolation to satisfy his slight depression. They drove back home. All introductions were over, a grand lunch was organized in honor of the newly wed. Most of the family members went to sleep, while the parents were talking to the son and his wife. Discussions were about future plans, career, place where they were planning to settle in the US etc.

The plan was chalked out for the trip to the temples, which was to start the next day. A ‘thaali’ was already in the house, a short marriage ceremony in the traditional style to be performed to satisfy the locals here. Then they would visit two other temples. Everything was to be completed in a week. The girl then started talking about her parents, her father was an engineer while her mother managed the household. She excused herself to get her family photos to show. Her mother went through each photograph as she was explaining things. Being an American certain things didn’t seem unconventional.

She said “You know, actually he is not my biological father” as she was speaking to her mother-in-law.
“What do you mean not your biological father?” she said surprised and a bit aghast.
At this the father sat up leaning towards the center of discussion very much interested. A loud silence fell over the room, where they sat. The son was not a wee bit worried as it didn’t matter to him .

“I was not born out of the marriage between my mother and my foster father”. She said
“I don’t know who my father is actually, and my mother didn’t have any background or photograph of him. But she was deeply in love with him it seems , and I am a product of that love. But this is known to my foster father and my brothers and sisters. Why do you look shocked and surprised?” she asked looking at the mother and slowly turning to the father-in-law.

The album was slowly slipping out of the mother’s hands, and the father caught it, before it fell down. The mother didn’t know how to react or respond. She was non-plussed. This was the second shock. Adding to her misery was the fact that her son was very cool and indifferent. On the other hand he was whispering something to his wife and they were laughing.

The father slowly looked at the album and the photographs. His face turned ashen grey. Never in his wild dreams he thought he would see this , nor did he imagine anything like this to happen .

The mother was Kate Mcallister. His friend of younger days, with whom he had spent a night. But yet he was not sure if this girl was his offspring. She had the exact blue eyes of her mother. Was there a shade of oriental features in her? He didn’t know. But knowing kate well, and the age of his daughter-in-law, it was not impossible that this was his daughter. The daughter whom he never knew existed, none in his family knew of that single instance. So was he going to reveal it? But to what avail even if he did?

Further life was not a movie, where there is a background score or a blurted dialogue to show that people who meet are consanguines. They are humans who meet, and emotions take over. He had seen the brain in all its complexities and solved them when they failed, but never did he understand the invisible tricks it weaved on people. It had just finished one in his immediate family. A very unique situation, much worse than the Grewal’s. There they knew that the boy and girl were cousins, not immediate brother and sisters as in this case. They had gone through the formality of adoption, which he couldn’t think of , as that meant he had to dust some skeletons from his past.

The best decision, was to live with certain facts and let them remain a secret. The rest of the evening and life he spent thinking on how certain things happened, and why certain things never happened? Why couldn’t his son recognize the girl as his sister? Does it not happen normally even if they have not seen, just like in the movies? Cursing the Grewals was so easy for him and his wife, now he couldn’t even grumble loudly about things in his own backyard. The more he ruminated the fact that his daughter was married to his son, the more unbearable it became. But the fact remained that, when they met there was no way they could know of their common ancestry and there was no way he was going to reveal it now, as it was too late. The best thing he decided was to let certain facts die with him, a peaceful death.