Story : Hashi - Khushi

                              Hashi – Khusi

       I have a small  terrace garden in the balcony of my small flat like people in big bungalows  have  gardens at their entrances. In the heart of the city, my terrace garden is a patch of serenity, a reminder that even small spaces can hold vast beauty. Beautiful flowers bloom. I occasionally count them, one, two, three ……... and I forget to count further as I get lost in their sweet, serene smile and faint fragrance: smell of Hibiscus, Champa, Jasmine, Harsingar (Parijat) and Marigold fills my house.  I love flowers, like them I too love being part of important events of peoples’ lives. Flowers make good events better and the bad ones bearable. I Don’t  have a rose plant . It is said that rose flowers are not offered to God. Flowers are an integral part of our lives; Birth, marriage, farewell, welcome, death, zindgagi ke saath bhi zindagi ke baad bhi (With life and even after life )!. Whatever may be the occasion, their  fragrance and smile remains the same as if teaching us an important lesson of life:being resilient to whatever life offers.

It was the month of June 2007. The humidity of Kolkata becomes more painful with the onset of summers. My house echoed with the chirping of small birds, which consider it their birth right to peck at the grains scattered on the floor whenever the sun filters through the window. One early  morning I saw that two small white round eggs planted  in the wet soil  of the Harsingar plant. Two  beautiful cream white eggs .I watched the Mother pigeon warming the eggs daily. She would fly  upto very short distance for food and kept a watch full  eye over the eggs. I became  very busy taking care of the mother . After all she was going to be a mother. Pregnancy and childbirth are natural processes that a woman have undergone down the years. Each one of us can do it. It is up to us to make to a pleasant experience.  Whenever Mother pigeon  left , I quietly  poured some   water and kept a few  grains. The soil of the plant was  also be kept moist so that the mother gets comfort in the summer .The eggs started growing bigger.  After  few days the mother was sitting continuously forgoing her food, perhaps the time for hatching was nearing. The  status of the mother is higher than that of God, whether she is human or animal, that is perhaps a belief. I named them: Hashi and Khushi (Laughter and Happiness). Before going to bed ,  I  daily checked the water in the arrangement and closed the door gently behind me. I always felt, doing this, the way I used to feel when the children were little, going into their rooms just before I went to bed, making sure they were comfortable and safe. One day after returning  from office  , I found two beautiful little eggs were missing. Perhaps  the crow had eaten. At the edge the Mother pigeon was sitting.  I don’t know what was going inside her. How does she express her pain? After few days I went to Tezpur  University to take  classes. During Morning walk in Campus Premises, I saw an oval shaped black  stone with white vein curled around its neck. In my hometown Himachal, such a stone is called Shivaji and is worshipped. The saying, "If one believes it is God, if not then stone," belief and faith are what give an object its sacredness. I brought it home. Few days later two beautiful  round white eggs appeared once again  in the pot. My heart leapt with joy. I immediately brought that stone of Lord Shiva and placed it in that pot and with folded hands prayed , O God, I have you to protect them ! I could not!

- Pankaj Mala