Victor’s Dream – Part One

Victor’s Dream
Shomu was a lovable child who loved his family very much.  Being eldest, he wanted to grow up hurriedly and give his Mother whom he called Amu and (dad)Baba, a hand.  Early on he became aware of their daily grind to provide for his two brothers and him. 

Baba was a cobbler and polished shoes also.  In his skilled hands even old worn out shoes got a new lease in life.    His mom sewed and repaired for the neighborhood on an ancient machine which was diligently oiled and kept fit.  The three children attended the local school as their baba wanted them to find another profession as cobblers had meager earnings.

Shomu always considered himself a winner and often wished he could change his name to Victor.  He was very fond of this word which he had learnt in his English class.  Slowly the family started calling him Vicky to please him and the old name Shomu was forgotten.

After school, Vicky would run home and help his brothers with homework and his beloved amu with household chores before joining his baba.  He relished polishing shoes and make them shine.  Baba would indulge him but only after ensuring that he had finished his school homework.  Vicky would whistle happily and shine shoes to his heart’s content.  He always got a bit more in tips than his baba.  It was mainly his happy face and cheerful manner that pleased their clientele. 

Vicky had just turned sixteen when he was forced to run his baba’s shoe repair business alone as they’d lost him tragically when a bus with failed brakes mowed him down along with others in its path.  After a lot of hue and cry the bus owners had given each victim’s family a large sum of money.  Vicky’s amu had quickly banked the money for her sons’ higher education and in case there was an emergency.  Vicky joined night school so that he could work in morning to help amu manage the house.  He also ensured that his brothers studied hard and did not get into bad company.

Sen Dada was a regular customer of his baba and now Victor’s. He was in the lottery business.  Each month he’d jested with baba that he should buy a lottery ticket as he’d surely win.  Sen Dada always told baba he was a lucky man indeed with three obedient sons and a hard working bahu (wife).  Baba had remained impassive and always refused
to buy a lottery ticket that cost Rupees twenty.  Now again, Sen Dada tried to sell the lottery ticket.  But Victor stuck to his guns and shook his head and continued shining the shoes.  The shoes literally glistened and Sen Dada could see his face in them.  He was delighted and decided to gift a lottery ticket instead of paying for his shoeshine.  Victor in a weak moment accepted the ticket, breaking his baba’s rule.  He apologized to baba in his heart.

 

On his way home, Victor stopped at the nearby Durgabaari

and placed the ticket in front of Kali Ma asking for her blessing.  He also told Kali Ma that as far back as he could recall he had always felt like a winner and maybe this ticket would get his family out of poverty and a better way of life.  Then he sped home.

 

The lottery was a bumper one and the prize money was a whopping fifty lakh rupees.  Every Calcuttan who could afford twenty bucks had bought a ticket.  The momentum had built up and the excitement was palpable and could be cut with a knife.  The madness and razor edge excitement was akin to the one when India played cricket with their arch enemies Pakistan.  Next morning was the drawing day. 

   

Sen Dada always kept ten tickets for himself.  Now he held nine as the tenth one he had gifted to Victor. 

The numbers were announced and everyone rushed to buy the evening paper as it carried the results in print.  Victor had been so busy whole day long that he had completely forgotten about the ticket.    Suddenly he heard sounds of drum beats approaching as a group of ten of so of his friends and family approached with Sen Dada leading them.

 

Dada came near and embraced him like a son.  He said, “Victor, you are indeed a Victor.  Your ticket has won the prize money.”  Victor’s mouth fell open.  Then pure joy coursed through his veins making him giddy with happiness.  He pulled the ticket out of his pocket and it matched the numbers in the evening paper.  Suddenly Victor uttered the words, “Where should I keep it, what should I do?  Where should I keep it, what should I do?”  He kept muttering these sentences over and over again.  Victor had lost his mind after his victory!

http://www.binaguptapoetry.com/vicors-dream-part-two-1106.htm

all pictures are from the internet disclaimer

A Journey- a Connection

A Journey- a Connection

 

Sometimes, certain journeys are like a renaissance painting, a bit blurred but pleasant on the eye and soul soothing.  Such were the trips we’d made consecutively a few years ago during our visit to India.

My sister has great faith in this particular Devi shrine in Himachal and both times she was delighted to have us n make it a family outing.

We piled into a Tata Sumo van in wee hours.  Bro-in-law’s  best friend Jay likes to drive.  After invoking  Hindu god Ganesh and   goddess shakti also knowns as “devi” we were on our way.  Jay is a diehard fan of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan hence out of his copious pockets he withdrew some tapes and we were treated to some soulful sufi music.   We were entranced.  The mood was set for the trip.

I have absolutely no road sense, so will only dwell on what my mind captured on these trips.  On our way after several hours, I recall having a sumptuous meal at a  (roadside diner)   Dhaba.  Then we were climbing the mountains and the hairpin curves around white limestone/sandstone cliffs were rather daunting.  Luckily none of us was nauseous and then we had halted midway up the mountain at a Shiva shrine inside a cave.  This was a natural cave temple of Trilokpur containing a stalactite and stalagamite dedicated to Shiva. High on the ridge of the cave we saw the ruins of a palace and baradari (audience hall). Ihe Shiva temple was very ancient and we had to bend very low to enter this shrine.  Outside, there was a lovely waterfall(banganga) and I felt this is how mount Kailash would be with Ganga flowing out of the Shiva locks as he meditated.

  After paying due obeisance we were on our way reluctant to leave as it was very peaceful high up in the mountains. The Kangra valley is one of the most picturesque valleys of lower Himalayas. Ancient Hindu Temples like Bajreshwari Devi, Chamunda Devi, Baijnath Shiv temple and Jwala Devi ji dot the country side. The valley, sheltered by the sublime Dhauladhar range, is green and luxuriant. It provides a tremendous contrast in nature.

I recall visiting the various “Devi” shrine during these trips. The one place that completely enchanted me was this ancient shrine of Mata called Bagalamukhi.    The Bankhandi temple is located on the Dehra-Dharamsala road, Kangra. There had been a rock fall and a good portion had fallen inwards inside the cave itself.  The inner sanctorum was intact and the caretakers had built a small entrance and veranda around it.  Belief had it that whatever boon you ask there will be fulfilled.  My sister firmly believed in it after a narrow escape and her husband had promised  the Devi that he would return to give thanks and hold a langar (lunch)for the local children and their families. 

After due respects everyone was busy mustering up the locals and preparing for the langar feast.  I absorbed the peace and tranquility of the place.  It was incredible.  The aura and the vibrations were amazing.  Mercifully there were no crowds and in fact at that time we were the only ones there.  I was allowed to sit in the inner sanctorum and the bliss was tangible.  I closed my eyes and meditated.  I was transported.  It was almost an out of body experience.  I was floating and drawn towards the deity. Peace descended on my bruised spirit like a soothing salve.  The Mother had taken me in her arms and removed all my hurts absorbing them and filling the void with love.  I was in a blissful state.  had journeyed within and without. This shrine’s power was quite potent and I felt it fully. I cherish this experience holding it close to my heart.

*In Hinduism, Bagalamukhi or Bagala is one of the ten mahavidya goddesses. Bagalamukhi Devi smashes the devotee’s misconceptions and delusions by her cudgel. She is also known as Pitambara in Northern Parts of India. (wiki)

**Kangra HP, rich in culture and history is sheltered by the massive Dhauladhar range of mountains and this majestic mountain range surpasses all others in its grandeur The history of Kangra valley dates back to vedic times, more than 3,500 years ago. It finds mention in the Puranas the Mahabharta and in Rajtarangani. Kangra valley is one of the most picturesque valleys in the Himalayas. The famous Bajeshwari Devi temple is located in the town.  Kangra town is situated at the confluence of the Baner and Majhi streams, overlooking the Banganga torrent famous for temples, forts and now a speedily emerging as a business centre. There are two other important Hill stations in district Kangra known as Dharamsala and Palampur. All in all, Kangra with a numerous important temples is a great destination for people looking to go on a religious holiday escape.

Dharamshala is full of Buddhist air and McLeod Ganj is Dalai Lama’s official residence, and home to several Buddhist monasteries and thousands of Tibetan refugees.  We got a taste of mini Tibet here.  The shrine of Budhha was very majestic and peaceful. (Source-internet)

pics. from internet

The Lovers (Short Story) Part 1

Kunal Kusho had done India proud.  He had bagged an Olympic gold medal in archery filling every Indian heart with joy.   The media had gone crazy and every news channel had interviewed Kunal.  Pretty soon every Indian knew who Kunal Kusho (KK) was by now. 
 
I have won! I have won! Now I can approach Mr. Singh with confidence.  I love Guddi dearly but her family is rich and well known in Punjab.  I am afraid they may not have a high opinion of me.  They may consider me a country bumpkin or worse a simpleton.  Yes we are simple folks who have kept our ethnicity culture and traditions alive despite encroachment by outsiders in the name of progress.

   
 
Sikkim, my beloved home is indeed a Shangri La and it is doubly dear now that I’ve met my love here.  Thank God for the swine flu outbreak overseas that made Sikkim her choice for vacation instead of Europe.

  
 
Sunaina (Guddi) was aptly named as she had large doe shaped eyes with gold flecks, light brown hair to match and a svelte figure.  Her coloring was wheatish with a perfect nose and lips.  Overall her features were well sculpted and hailing from a robust sport loving family from Punjab, she was in fine form and disgustingly healthy.  Even her back breaking routine as a medical student had not made a dent in her stunning looks. She was a beauty in every sense of the word and was used to guys falling head over heels in love with her.  Tom and Jerry as she lovingly called her two older brothers Sunil and Kapil both hockey players kept her under their watchful eyes and no one dared to misbehave with their little sister “Guddi” (doll).  Guddi was effervescent and bubbly and her only fault was she loved challenges so much so that she got into many scrapes.
 
Kunal (KK) was from Gangtok, the capital of Sikkim.  He found the spirit of sports all around him as he was born into a family with many well known sportspersons including Sikkim Royalty.  KK took up the game of Archery at a tender age and emerged as an excellent Archer and his illustrious career culminated when he was honored with the Arjuna Award by the Government of India.  He became a household name after winning the Olympic Gold medal.  KK was quiet by nature.  He was fairly tall at five feet ten and had an athletic body due to a five mile run every morning.  His face had a haunting quality, with dark brooding eyes that had the stillness of a deep thinker.  His looks were swarthy and his eyes had a hint of slant that added to his intriguing persona.  His looks beckoned and held yet did not encourage.  He was an introvert yet once people got to know him they loved him lifelong.  He was true and loyal to a fault.  Unspoiled by his success, he was down to earth and took it all in his stride.  Besides archery, he was a writer and had written many books under the pen name “Shivam”.  His books sold well and fetched handsome royalties.  Besides which his family owned property and a couple of restaurants and travel business in the state.  They were an entity in Sikkim.  He had one elder sister Pema Kusho who was married and lived in Katmandu, Nepal.  One odd thing about him was that even though local girls and others chased him around and sent alluring feelers, he did not trust anyone.  He had a deep seated fear of betrayal in love.   His parents knew better and did not force marriage on him either.  They felt he needed to find a soul mate himself.  They however hopefully rang bells and made wishes whenever they visited Buddhist monasteries.  They were eager for a grandchild.

 
Guddddiiii! Her friends jeered.  “We dare you to make that runner fall in love with you! They had challenged.  None of them was aware of KK’s identity and had only seen him run every morning like clockwork and they had seen his agile body and impassive face and had fallen for him.  Guddi (Sunaina) was here for two weeks with her childhood friends Pia and Sia who were fraternal twins.  Together they created quite a ruckus and folks usually smiled at their boisterous ways.  Guddi said “No Problem. He will be eating out of my hand long before our vacation is over!”  She planned well for her “love game” (shikaar).

 

Next morning wearing her jogging suit, light makeup and ponytail she ran headlong into KK.  Her onward rush knocked them both off their feet and they fell down in a heap.  Brushing themselves they got up and apologized profusely to each other!  KK said “Please let me make up for this and take you out for lunch!”  Guddi was delighted! Her plan had succeeded.  KK had thought it had been his fault! She shook hands and promised to meet at the nearby restaurant and triumphantly entered her hotel.  Pia and Sia pounced on her and seeing her gloating smile they understood.  She said she had been invited for lunch.  They giggled collectively.  Guddi wanted to look her best and hence pulled out the beautiful sheath dress that she had purchased in the local market that enhanced her beauty manifold.  She was a knockout in that dress and soon went for her rendezvous.

 

KK could not stop chiding himself.  “Why did I have to call her for lunch? What has come over me?  I should’ve apologized profusely and come away! Why can’t I stop thinking about her? He questioned himself.  He decided to be polite and not give away to his feelings.  He had to collect himself and be calm.  His heart seemed to have a mind of its own. 
Lunch was an eye opener for the both of us.  After I had literally floored him with my brush, why do I feel floored now?  I seem to be drowning in his deep mesmerizing eyes!  He is an exotic bird of this wonderful Shangri La and I know the family back home would be shocked by my choice! But this time, I feel I have really fallen hard.  I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, my hands and eyes are fluttery and I cannot stop wondering about him.  I wonder how he feels about me. O God! What is happening to me? Is this love?  It is painful, so it must be real.

 

I was so excited that I was finally going to meet her.  Now my tongue is tied in knots.  Am I psyching myself to shine in her eyes?  Why can’t I string two words together?  And I consider myself a writer.  If this is love then I am surely doomed!

 

KK and Guddi had a silent lunch broken by intermittent monosyllables
Both felt strong emotional undercurrents.

 

The only good thing that came about during lunch was that Guddi came to know KK was a national hero and a celebrity in his own right and the restaurant staff and owner felt honored by his patronage.   This fact filled her with joy.  She also felt relieved inside!

 

During the next ten days, KK and Guddi came to know each other well and shared all their feelings and emotions.  They became inseparable as they were totally in love.  KK’s parents were delighted and came to love and accept Guddi wholeheartedly.  Pia and Sia tactfully left them alone and were secretly happy for their beloved friend.  They too came to know and love KK.  Now all of them were keeping their fingers crossed as the last hurdle was to get a blessing from Guddi’s family.  They felt that would be a hard nut to crack!

http://www.binaguptapoetry.com/the-lovers-part-ii-mirza-sahiban-1022.htm

Robin And his pet Dog Goofy

The little boy was ready to move on. He was missing his sister and wanted to find her. Early next morning he bid the innkeeper and his children goodbye and left for the forest. The innkeeper had packed a generous lunch bag for the boy’s onward journey.

The forest was cool and misty.  Bravely the boy decided to keep going as long as there was light.  As the evening shadows lengthened and the dappled sunlight played hide and seek with the tree boughs, the boy decided to find a cozy spot to lie down for the night.  He was of slight built and a dry hollow tree would easily do for him.  He gave a sweeping glance all around when suddenly the ground under his feet caved in and he was dragged underground.  Wildly he tried to hang on to the undergrowth but was sucked into the earth and the ground closed up after him. 

The boy came to after what seemed an eon.  He found himself resting on a soft bed and his sister lovingly hovering over him with eyes full of love.  His eyes opened wide and then his heart stopped.  His sister’s eyes were sorrowful.  He hugged her tight and asked about her sadness.  She replied that she missed him terribly and even though she longed to be with him she had been given another task on the other side of the world.  There was another orphan baby who needed her.  She had been allowed one night with him before leaving.  The boy requested his sister to tell him another story.  The sister agreed and said listen:

There was a small family consisting of a young doctor Sam Souza and his wife Mona who was a busy interior designer.  They had a seven year old son Robin.   They loved him dearly and as they were busy career people, they had asked the boy’s maternal grandmother to come and stay with them.  This way the boy would not be lonely and they would not be worried either.  They also bought a small dog, a beagle named “Goofy” for their son Robin.  Robin loved his granny dearly and the pet dog put him on seventh heaven.  Both the dog and child were inseparable.  They did everything together.  Only when the boy was in school, “Goofy’ kept vigil by the window and bounded out even when Robin was a mile away from home. 

One day, while playing in the schoolyard, a bully pushed Robin hard and he fell and suffered concussion.  At once the principal called Dr. Souza to come and get him.  In the meantime, the school nurse did her best to look after Robin who was as white as a sheet.  The bully too was feeling bad for a change.  Also the principal had made him do 200 sit ups holding both his ears in front of the school.  Everyone had jeered at him but he finished his punishment full of regret. 

Robin stayed home for two days.   Now boys will be boys and he was a bundle of energy and asked granny if he could play outside with Goofy.  Granny agreed and both went out with a ball.  They played catch for a while and then the next ball went further than intended and Robin asked Goofy to fetch.  Goofy loped off quickly.  Robin waited for him to come back but he only heard a tiny squeal and then there was silence.  He ran towards the trees where the ball had landed and to his horror he saw a python slithering away and by the lump in its body, it appeared that it had swallowed poor Goofy.  Robin was horrified, scared and then tearful.  He ran home shouting granny grannyyyyy!  Granny came running out with his dad Sam who had just come home to check on his son.  Tearfully between sobs Robin told them that a python had eaten his beloved Goofy.  They had no reason not to believe the boy who was above average in intelligence.  Also he could identify animals from a very young age.  Dr. Sam called the forest department and reported the incident.  He was informed that indeed a python had escaped from its enclosure from the nearby zoo and they had been searching for it whole morning. 

Robin was sad and missed Goofy terribly.  His parents wanted to get him another puppy but he was not ready.  They decided to leave him alone with his grief.  In the evenings after school Robin would play alone with the ball hitting it on the back wall of the house and catching it.  He was missing “goofy” and in a fit of anger he hit the ball hard and it went farther then he had intended down the road.  He ran to fetch it when suddenly all hell broke lose.  A car came swerving and would have hit the boy but for the dog that came flying out of nowhere and pushed Robin out of harm’s way!   As Robin got up and dusted himself he saw “Goofy’ vanishing into thin air.  His heart leapt in joy.  Goofy had saved him.  In the meantime the angry car driver came to him and shook him.  He told him to never do that in future.  He advised that Robin should always look in both directions before crossing the road.  If the dog had not saved him, he would’ve lost his life today.  Then he enquired about Dr. Souza.  He had important documents for him. Robin took the stranger home who told all present the miraculous escape of Robin and the wonder dog.  

Everyone was stunned. They informed the insurance agent that the dog had died a month ago!  He was shocked to learn this bit of news. 
He described the dog in detail and now they were certain that Goofy had returned from dead to save Robin’s life.

Note: Animal ghosts — or phantimals — even those of dinosaurs can be seen at certain locations that have a terrible history,  it seems as though there may be a sort of “warp” or portal where apparitions can more easily materialize

The Nightingale of Sonakpur

The little boy was happy at the inn and as the innkeepers’ children were clamoring for one more fairytale, he decided to stay for one more night before resuming his quest for his sister.
 
Next morning after day school, the innkeeper’s eight kids formed a semi circle once again around their young storyteller.  Their faces were all eager in happy anticipation.  They had finished their homework and ate lunch in record time and were ready for another story.  The innkeeper’s face was beaming in delight.  He was happy that his kids had their own bits of words streams in their treasure chest now.  The boy began:
 
 
In a distant land east of here over vast plains of Europe and Asia, the mighty Gobi desert of Mongolia and the snow capped Himalaya Mountains there was a small kingdom nestled in the Ganges plain.  It was in the country called Hindustan.  The kingdom’s name was Sonakpore and the king had a beautiful daughter named Suvarna whom he adored.  She had recently come of age and the king wanted to find a suitable groom for his daughter.  He sent out an open invitation to all the young men in his kingdom.  Caste, status, religious belief did not matter.  All the suitors had to do was answer three questions to the King’s satisfaction and if their answers satisfied him, then he would gladly give his beloved daughter’s hand to the winner.
 
 
Princess Suvarna was beautiful.  She had large almond shaped eyes.  They were intensely dark like liquid black crystal.   Their beauty was further intensified by long curly eyelashes that fanned her rosy cheeks.  Her face had chiseled features.  She always wore a smile and constantly daydreamed and clapped her hands.  She was like a happy go lucky child and everyone broke into a smile on seeing her.  Her happiness was very contagious.  She spoke with her expressive eyes and even before she opened her mouth her wish was fulfilled.  Hence she hardly ever got a chance to speak.  Everything was served to her on a golden platter.  She had been brought up lovingly by a father who spoiled her and a mother who wisely instilled caution, respect for elders, proper conduct, kindness, humility and other qualities that would give her respect and dignity in life.  Above all her mother taught her to have faith in God.  
 
 
The whole kingdom was in a festive mood.  Aspiring young men from far and near, princes, wealthy merchants, handsome paupers, even the town idlers all made their way to the palace.  One by one they entered the palace gates enthusiastically and then as quickly they would be seen leaving the palace with downcast eyes, defeated.  In this manner, many days passed by but the king was not satisfied by even a single suitor.  He was in a state of despair.  He would tell himself, “is there not a single young man in my kingdom who can make my darling princess happy and I can rest in peace knowing that she is in capable hands”!  The king started getting sleepless nights.  The queen on the other hand was a noble lady and had complete faith in god.  She knew there was an appointed time and place for everything and was not worried.  She slept soundly.
 
 
The three questions were simple and those which any loving father would ask of any young man who wished to marry his daughter:
 
1)   How will you take care of my daughter?
2).  How will you keep her happy?
3).  How will you keep her from harm?
 
 
So far the answers had been like this:
 
Rich suitors:  I will have my whole country at her beck and call, guard her night and day, be with her all the time and appoint personal maids who stayed with the princess full time.  Have official food tasters taste all food before she ate, keep a physician available close by and so on and on. 
 
Handsome but Poor suitors and the rest:
 
After marriage, I would move into the palace to be with your daughter.  Thus you would continue caring for her to your own satisfaction and peace of mind.  When in due course of time, you pass away, I can take over the reins of the country and this way there will be no disruption in caring for your daughter or the kingdom. 
 
The king so far was not happy with any answers.
 
 
Gopal was a simple cowherd.  He was also an obedient loving son. Daily after meeting the needs of his aged parents, he would leave with the family cows herding them towards the green pastures in the Ganges plains and lower grassy parts of the mountains.   Gopal was dark skinned yet very attractive.  His face had a serenity that attracted and held spellbound all those who saw him.  He was hard working and never idled except whilst grazing his cows.  Then, he would sit under the shade of a clump of trees and pull out his precious flute and immerse himself in music.  The sweet tones of his flute would echo in the plains and valleys and for a moment all the listeners would halt and drink in this sweet nectar of wafting notes.  They felt an intoxicating languor and a sudden burst of vigor. All their troubles seemed to melt away.  Everyone looked forward to Gopal’s mesmerizing flute playing.    His midday meal was simple.  He carried two flat round pieces of unleavened bread, a pickle, a hot green chilly and a small onion.  In a small can he carried buttermilk to drink with his food.   He was simple and uncomplicated as was his life.
 
 
 
One day as he was getting ready to play his flute, one of his friends from the village who was the merchant’s son stopped by and told him about the king’s search for a suitable husband for his princess.  He also informed him that he too had tried but had been sent packing by the king.  He suggested to Gopal that he should try for the princess’s hand too as it was an open invitation to all.  Gopal knew his mother had been after him to get married and was looking for a suitable bride.  He thought let me try and surprise mother.  
 
 
Next morning he got ready very early and wore his favorite lucky jacket.  When his parents questioned him about this, he said he had been invited by his friend Neelkanth for lunch in the town. He had arranged for his cows to be grazed by another friend.  He was ready for the palace.  He was confident and fearless.
 
 
The king was told about the arrival of yet another suitor for his beloved daughter.  His face brightened and suddenly he felt hopeful inside.  Eagerly he made his way towards the Public Hall where he held all important meetings and conducted the state business.  This hall had a comfortable throne made of gold and studded with precious stones.  The seat was made of the finest soft velvet and was royal purple in color.   All the numerous gateways had long flowing sheer curtains that billowed in tune with the cross currents of the air that passed through in cross ventilation.  The palace was constructed in such a way by an able master architect that it remained cool even in the hot summer months.

 

 Trumpets heralded the arrival of the king and the royal session began.  Gopal was presented to the king.  The king was impressed by the bearing of this cowherd.  He carried himself with confidence.  The king put forth the three questions to him:

 
How will you take care of my daughter?  Gopal said, “Your highness I will care for your daughter in the same way as I care for my parents whom I love dearly”.
 
How will you keep her happy?  “I will try my best to keep her happy, your highness.  That is all I can promise”.
 
 
How will you keep her from harm?  Gopal replied, “Birth and death are in the hands of God.  I will try my utmost to care for her.  I cannot promise more than that.  Rest is in God’s hands”.
 
 
The king was very happy with Gopal’s answers and decided to marry his daughter to him.  After ensuring that he was not offending Gopal’s parents, he had a nice home built where Gopal had his old home so that his daughter could be comfortable.   Gopal and his parents accepted all this grudgingly as they were proud people and mindful of their self respect and dignity.  As per Gopal’s wishes, the king had a simple marriage celebration and bid a tearful farewell to his daughter.  The queen was happy as she had fallen under the spell of Gopal.  She knew her daughter was in good hands.
 
 
Gopal saw his wife Survarna for the first time on his wedding night and was mesmerized by her great beauty and childlike simplicity.  He fell in love with her.  Suvarna too liked this simple cowherd and was crazy about his flute.  She would begin to sway to his music as though under a spell.  There was only one problem in their happy married life.  Suvarna could not talk!! Try as she might no words would emerge from her lovely mouth.  All her life she had been given everything on a platter even before she uttered a word.  Gopal was grief stricken.  He decided to find a cure for his beloved wife.
 
 
Exactly a year ago this day.

  
 
Gopal was as usual lost in his flute playing and was unaware of his surroundings.  Suddenly, an old monk had appeared out of nowhere and asked for food.  Gopal had  emerged from his reverie and had offered his lunch pack with due respect.  The holy man ate the simple fare with great enjoyment.  After he had enjoyed the last morsel and drunk the buttermilk, he had suddenly changed in appearance.  He transformed himself to the Indian god Shiva.  He now had a tiger skin around his torso, a snake around his neck, matted hair, and a trident in one hand.  He was astride a magnificent bull.  Gopal was wonderstruck and quickly lay down flat on the ground to pay his respects in the Hindu way.  The lord was very pleased with his simplicity and had asked Gopal if he desired anything from him.     Gopal said Lord I have everything I need.  All I need is your blessings for my friends and family.  The lord was very pleased with this answer and had then given him a holy chant of seven words.  He said, “every time you chant these words, a gold pot would appear out of thin air with whatever food you desire and it would not empty until you have fed your family.  Then it would disappear”.  Lord Shiva next said, “ Gopal you have to make a solemn promise to never reveal the secret about this divine boon”.  Gopal had promised the lord accordingly.  As Gopal had fed the lord with his lunch selflessly God had rewarded his act of kindness.  Gopal’s family had never slept hungry from that day onwards.
 
 
Gopal had only one thought in mind.  He wanted to gift his lovely wife with a stream of words.  His mind was in a whirl.  Suddenly he had a brilliant idea.  He went to a secluded spot on the nearby hill and prayed to Lord Shiva fervently.  He asked for the lord’s blessing in his efforts to make his wife speak and sing. Next he chanted the sacred words and the golden pot appeared.  He wished the pot to be full of sweet fragrant words.  He opened his eyes and found the magical gold pot full of alphabet soup with all kinds of glorious words floating in it.  It appeared to be a healthy vegetable broth.  He quickly took it home and made Suvarna drink it to the last drop.  When the soup was finished, the golden pot disappeared and she fell into a deep sleep. 
 
 
Next morning, Survarna woke up with a lot of excitement.  She felt on top of the world and wanted to sing.  She opened her mouth and out came a beautiful melody never heard before.  The old parents and Gopal himself were enchanted.  They quietly they let Suvarna sing to her heart’s content and rejoiced.  Their cup of happiness overflowed.
Gopal sent a letter to the King and requested him to hold a musical competition in exactly a week’s time.  He next prepared Suvarna with all the songs he knew.  He played the flute and she sang the songs in accompaniment.  Together they created magic.  They were ready. 
The following week, Gopal and his family donned their best clothes and boarded the horse drawn carriage which the king had gifted his daughter.  It was pulled by a pair of   finest Arabian horses this side of the mountains.  They were at the palace gates in no time.  The king and queen were waiting at the entrance and with great fanfare and pomp escorted them to the main hall. The nobles and citizens of Sonakpore were already seated.  Gopal, Suvarna and his parents were seated next to the king and queen and the evening began.  All the known artists, maestros, singers, musicians presented their items.  The hall echoed with “bravo” and thundering claps in appreciation.  Now it was Gopal’s turn.  Gently he helped Suvarna to her feet and together they stood in front of the audience.
Gopal removed his flute from his belt and started playing.  Suvarna soon opened her lips and sang along.  Her voice was crystal clear and pure.  She poured her all into it and the king and queen were beside themselves with joy.  They had been as much in the dark about this miracle as the townspeople.  Everyone was on their feet clapping and weeping in happiness.  There was no question about the winner.  The king named his daughter
The Nightingale of Sonakpur.  He kissed Gopal on his forehead in gratitude.  The queen always knew things would turn out well in the end as she had implicit faith in god.

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