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aut me aut nihil

aut me aut nihil = Either me or nothing. no,no... me not boosting. me have an inferiority complex and trying to compensate :D 

Monday, June 06, 2005 - 12:04

All the proof

Note: Only after writing it completely i realised the point of view could have been better and the structure was also mediocre. You all know how lazy me is :D

Shankar, aged 10, standard 5, rank 3, was a unique little boy. He lost both his mom and dad to a road accident a couple of years ago and lived with his grandparents in his quiet, native village. The boy greaved, but recovered because of the love and affection of his grandparents. His grandfather became his mentor, his hero and his companion.
The old man understood very well what the boy was going through. He knew that the young boy looked up to him and he took over the role of a father.
Three months after the tragic incident, during a regular visit to the nearby temple, Shankar told his grandfather, "Sir, I have no faith in god. I refuse to kneel and pray before a god who took my parents away from me. I won't come inside." The old man had no answer and the fact that Shankar knew, his parents met with the accident while they were going to a temple didn't help either. He let the boy stand outside the temple while he went inside.
From then, Shankar never went to the temple or prayed to God. He refused to say prayers in the school assembly. The only time he ever joined his hands for prayer were during the pooja done for his parents every new moon day. He was happy that his grandpa respected his decision and never spoke about his lost faith again.
It changed one sunny afternoon.
Shankar was watching the other kids play, waiting for the lunch reccess to end when he saw his grandfather. It must be new moon day today and time for the pooja, he thought.
The old man said, "Lets go home, kid! I told ur teacher."
Shankar replied, "I'll get my bag, sir." and ran into his classroom.
He got the bag and informed the teacher, "Ma'am, my grandfather..."
"Yes, i heard. You can go home.", she said.

Shankar came out and started walking the five-minutes-walk towards his home with his grandfather. He liked walking with his grandfather since it brought back cheerful memories of walking with him, holding his hand, to the market and eating colorful candies when he was young.
"Grandpa, do you remember, we used to go together to the market. You would buy me those candies and chocolates from the sweet store."
"Yes kid, i remember. I actually got you some sweet. Ladoo... prasad from the temple.", said the old man and offered Shankar some.
Shankar kept walking like he didn't hear his grandfather. He never accepted any offering from the temple and his grandfather knew this.
The old man smiled and said, "Shankar, you should not go on like this. Fear of God is neccessary even though you dont believe in God."
Shankar reasoned in an almost serene voice, "Sir, i have fear in my elders. I respect them. I believe in what i see and refuse to believe in something that i have not seen or heard. How is that wrong?"
"It is nothing to do with right or wrong. It is a way of living. You are all the proof that i ever existed and you symbolise each and every one of your elders and your ancestors. I ask you to think again, without the anger, about your decision."
Shankar walked quietly for a while before he nodded yes, almost as if not wanting to disappoint his grandpa.
The old man smiled cheerfully seeing the nod from his grandson and continued, "You have learned the Gita, which says God has a purpose for His every action. One shouldn't stop believing when His actions are different from one's desire."
"But even in the bible, nobody believed Jesus until he resurrected Lazarus from the dead. Let god do a miracle. Then i would believe in him. A miracle, nothing less!", retorted Shankar.
He waited for a reply but his grandfather never did. He turned and searched but saw no one around. As his home was just around the corner he continued walking and noticed a small crowd outside his home. He walked slowly towards the mob when he saw his neighbour and asked him about the crowd.
"O dear Kid, i don't know how to tell you... but your grandfather... died this morning."

Dedication: To my grandfather, Pichamuthu, after whom me named this blog, Pichuva. Afterall... he gave me mine, Mathi.


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