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Originally posted by: Rafa.LunaPotter
I declare one thing!!!
I like Shekhar!!!*hugs*LOL..coming to teh update Hema di...:))Loved it...actually loved the flow..from one part to the other!!!It was awesome!!!Great job..:))
Originally posted by: aish_punk
hey hema di..nice update..
i loved the way Shekhar teased her!..he wanted to prove it to her that he loves her n shes not ready to accept it?..somehow, he did shut her up!..Shekhar is a sweet guy, making her realize what she's missing out on, i really like him. The metaphor u used in reference to the feathers was very well written!..He lied to her that he knew Prashanth..n she actually believed it for a moment..lol..but thank god he admitted it..otherwise she would have died by guilt!..n he was knocking sense into her..she knew he was right, though she hated defeat..interesting!..idk what conclusion she will draw out of this, waiting to know.thnx 4 d pmupdate soon-aish
🤣that me laugh!! shekhar is awesome... im liking him more n more! n hema.. jeeez u scared me there for a sec... dont do that plz😆 rly nicee part!!
so atleast sandhya feels something for prashant.. it might just be love =)
OMG ...are u serious??😲 then i must say ur a fantastic writer... 😃not many people would be able to do that... i mean it wasn't like i imagined a similar person .. but the exact same one u had in ur mind!! thats rly cool....good job!! n honestly i didnt even know his name was kunal.. i had to look it up... i just knew this guy from rdb looked like prashant😆
Excellent part!
I loved reading every single word! Which is quite an achievement because one gets derailed if there are unnecessary words in the story.
Maybe, a friendship is possible between her and Shekhar???
Waiting!
@about the sis thing : You see, I have a twin sis, who hates reading. I mean the only ones she likes are short stories. But she always asks me to tell her the 'story' of the 'book' I have been reading. So I tell her the story as new parts appear. So whenever we both are bored, she asks me what happened in this story (ex. At the Edge or Solace) and then we discuss it. :)
Sorry for the late reply Hema...busy week, but I read it right away! 😉
LOVED Shekhar. He's going to be the fairy godmother in bringing our two buddhus together! 😛 They are buddhus, of course. They need someone else to tell their feelings for them, but lovable, adorable buddhus 😆 You better have something special planned for Prashant, because he's my favorite and I don't want Shekhar overshadowing him! Can't wait for the next part! I hope Shekhar gets to actually meet Prashant too. Would love to see how that encounter goes. I'm glad Sandhya met Shekhar. She needs someone to shake up her world.
The sun rose and set each day with renewed beauty in front of his mesmerised eyes, insinuating to him, whenever his mind happened to wander beyond the colours he saw, that days were passing, dates were changing. Yet, cut off as he was, he didn't know exactly how long it had been since the day he had left his job and said goodbye to his parents. Sometimes, it seemed like yesterday; sometimes, like decades ago. Actually, it had been nearly two months now, the sneaky voice of reason within him butted in. Two months, Prashant smiled sadly at the thought.
Time was a strange little being, whimsical and erratic. He felt he had lived a number of lifetimes in those two months, and yet he had done nothing, it would seem, other than go for long walks, teach art to school children and while away the rest of his time by painting what met his eyes and visited his mind. Most of these paintings, he had given away to people he met, as mementos. Some paintings, he had kept, for companionship. One in particular, he kept for sustainance.
Prashant was at Old Siddhpur, a remote village snuggly nestled somewhere in the flanks of the Himalayas. It was the mountain that had lured him towards the north. Its unflinching, cold, powerful, overpowering, towering presence had always reminded him of how small he was, how inadequate. But the mountain was also graceful, benevolent, protective, and the mystery embodied by its virtually unattainable peak allowed him to dream of limitless possibilities and hope for the highest of triumphs. It was the pursuit of truth that had led him and he believed he had found it there, emanating from the looming mountain: that pure, ubiquitous current that permeated the state of being.
Old Siddhpur - because there was a New Siddhpur too, across the river, many miles away, where all the young men went to seek work, and where the husbands all the women dreamt of came from - was an idyllic place that could boast of no remarkable happenings, exciting resources or famous personalities. It could thus be easily forgotten by the rest of the civilised world, and allowed to rest blissfully in its own lulling indolence, unblemished, eluding self-consciousness.
Most of the people at Old Siddhpur were either nomadic traders, shopkeepers, artisans or farmers of some kind. Monks often came to visit from the nearby monastery, to impart their teachings and help at the dispensary, healing, with the lore of ancient medicine that they possessed, those patients whom the doctor could find no cure for.
One of these monks, Lama Tzu had rapidly become Prashant's favourite person at Old Siddhpur. Lama Tzu was one of the most aged monks at the monastery. He was crinkled and crumpled up by the long, difficult life he had led and the miseries he had seen, and also had a most endearing child-like smile. He took pleasure in the simplest and tiniest of things and had a way of clapping his hands with delight whenever he was happy, that made him seem no older than a toddler. He spoke in smiles and similes and one-line anecdotes, but mostly listened, passively. It was this perpetual receptiveness, in Prashant's eyes, that constituted the essence of his abysmal wisdom.
During the course of his stay at Old Siddhpur, Prashant had also grown increasingly fond of Gopa Ma, the elderly lady who owned the teashop and in whose house, he had been given a quarter of a room to share with three school-going boys who were Gopa Ma's grandchildren. She was a woman of impeccable integrity, terrifyingly stern and strict, and about as inflexible as a rod of lead. But, strange as it may seem, she was also one of the most soft-hearted people he had met. Her eyes leaked at the slightest emotion she felt and everyone in the village that wasn't older than her, called her mother, aptly so. In addition, Gopa Ma was also the most prospering gossip monger in the village, which was saying something, seeing that competitors to the title were hardly scarce.
The day of Prashant's departure was closing in. He had promised his parents he would be back home in two months. He would miss Gopa Ma, Lama Tzu and all the wonderful people he had come to see as family. His situation reminded him of one of his favourite Robert Frost poems; he had promises to keep too.
On his last day, there was going to be a party at Gopa Ma's teashop organised by the villagers to bid him goodbye. The very thought filled Prashant with mind-numbing nostalgia. He had always found it excruciatingly hard to say goodbye. He was the sort of person who fell in love at the drop of a hat, and the relationships he forged, became a part of him far too quickly. Thus, letting go of them had always felt like tearing away a part of himself. This was why, after Amrita had left, he had resolved to detach himself from everyone, to save himself the inevitable pain. He would not love again, he had decided, because whenever he loved, he loved too much and suffered for it. And now he had gone and done it again. Old Siddhpur had become a part of him.
Since the monks would not come to the party, Prashant had gone to see them at the monastery with three paintings he had made for them. Lama Tzu had told him by way of farewell, "life is like a river." Prashant had turned and begun to walk away when Lama Tzu called him, and said, "giving too much is always better than not giving enough, and not receiving enough is always better than receiving too much." Prashant had waited for him to elaborate but the monk had merely smiled and gone back to his quivering rosary.
The party was more grandiose than Prashant had expected. In fact, the party was not at the tea shop but outside it, since everybody would obviously not be able to fit inside. Every single person from the village was there, including the greedy moneylender with whom Prashant had never gotten along well; the woman who had falsely accused him of eying her indecently (earning him a most severe beating at the hands of Gopa Ma and public humiliation to boot); the man he had yelled at for beating his wife; and even the thief who was now avoiding his eyes because he had once run away with his wallet. The presence of these characters was surprising, but then again, ever since he had set foot in Old Siddhpur, he had never ceased to be surprised.
He discreetly asked Gopa Ma about it. She laughed at his ignorance and said, "This party is a gift from the village. Everybody needs to be here because the village is not a place where people live; the village is people who live in a place. No matter our differences, we are all one. Oh, and everybody likes a party. But shush now, there's going to be a speech. We all prepared it."
"Prashant," read Tai, the moneylender, the designated speaker, since he was the most influential man of the village, "this speech comes from all the villagers to say good bye and wish you all the best in your life ahead. You are a good person with a beautiful, selfless heart and everybody can vouch for that, including those of us who sometimes spoke harshly to you.
Ever since you have come here, you have helped in every way you could, as though this was your own village. Tirelessly, you helped rebuild the dispensary after the avalanche. You also risked your life to attempt to rescue the people trapped in the snow. After you went in, everybody said, what an idiot! But you managed to save the lives of people we thought we had lost forever. For this, the Norbu, Langyang, Twen, Moatsu, Mano, Ilom and Ki families want to thank you from the bottom of their hearts, even though they know they can never thank you enough.
You have also helped a lot at the school. Principal Matthews says, 'You brought fresh ideas to the school, and we will always remember you as our beacon of light and hope, ever so optimistic and motivating.' Your students at school who think you are a very good teacher have made a painting for you which ... where is it? ... Oh... okay, the painting, we will give you later because it is not dry yet.
Where was I? Yes, Gopa Ma. Gopa Ma says that you always tried to help with house chores, even though you don't know anything. You helped at the tea shop and broke a total of nine glasses. But she forgives you because you paid for them, and were a good son that always listened to her.
Your brothers who shared their room with you say that they like you because you always played games with them, even though you are an adult. And also, you do not snore and never hit them. You also taught them Hindi, and so, they have decided, that when they grow up, they will go to Bombay to act in Bollywood movies and dance with Preity Zinta.
You are a city boy so you don't know our ways, which is why you got into trouble with our daughter Kima. Where you live, maybe it is acceptable to ogle at girls. But you only complained a little bit when you were rebuked by your elders, and you understood quite rapidly that you had erred. Kima tells you that she has forgiven you.
You also got into a fight while you were here but you did it to protect Jantsu from Nying who beat her up. Because of you he has stopped now, apparently.
Uh... There are many names here of children who ... uh... who want to tell you that you are very funny and tell beautiful stories. You can come and read the names here afterwards. There are too many. They all consider you to be their best friend and would really like it if you stayed back.
We will never forget you. Some of us don't like you that much because you sometimes criticise our ways. But we cannot deny that you mean well, and you are a truthful person who is polite and well-mannered. You are also very humble. You do not have the airs that we thought you would have, being a city boy. You sincerely tried became a part of us and to learn that you will leave, makes us sad, some more than others.
We were not all happy when you came. We thought you would pollute the place and bring in filth to corrupt the youngsters' minds. But you were different. You loved the trees, the forest, the riiver and the mountain. You have as much respect for Nature as we do. And you also have great respect for people. You have a very big heart and accept everybody into it. So it was only a matter of time before we came to accept you as one of us.
We were not all happy when you came, and we are all not happy when you leave. You blended so well in the village that sometimes we forgot that you are only a guest. Of course when you started asking many stupid questions we remembered that you are Prashant, that annoying city boy.
But even though you are going to leave, you will remain in our hearts and the beautiful paintings that you have given us will always remind us that there was a Prashant who came to live with us and he was a good person. We wish you well, and we hope to see you again."
Tai, the moneylender sat down with a sigh and everybody clapped. Prashant's eyes were moist. Before he knew it, he was being choked into a tight hug by Gopa Ma. She had been hugging him a lot, ever since she had learnt that he was going to leave.
And then, it dawned upon him, all of a sudden. Life is a river, Prashant told himself. We come, we go. Life comes, life goes. And it goes on, ever-changing, yet always the same. The words of Lama Tzu made sense now. Well, at least the part about the river.
Time to flow homeward. He saw it now. Every goodbye was also a new welcome. We come, we go, we come. He smiled. Home somehow reminded him of Sandhya. It had been two months since he had distanced himself from her so that he would not inadvertently come between her and her dreams. She was probably engaged by now, or married even. Life is a river. Their rivers flowed in parallel, never to meet.
Prashant revealed !😆
The distinctive style uptil now was mostly composed of dialogues, but this turn in the style seems to suit yo and the chapter fine! Actually, the way Prashant's character came forward was really good. The imagery and the analogy of the river - really good. He was expounded from his own pov and others' pov, that is the reason I loved this chap so!
Really really looking forward to the next part! Update soon?
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon
