I was thinking I should recollect, compile and save all the stories I learnt from my granny and all the games we played we when were small. I thought that will help me understand myself better…why I am what I am…
Morning over the tea my mother told me about the story of the ‘Gaja-Graha’, Gaja is elephant, graha means crocodile, Gajendra was once sporting in the waters of a lake when a huge crocodile came along and caught hold of one of his legs and started pulling him down into the water.Gaja struggled till he lost his power. He was slowly becoming weaker, and the crocodile was becoming stronger… he could not save himself in this struggle. It was at this time that he called out to the Lord! Please come along and save me. It is said that even as he uttered the word Govinda, Lord appeared on his vehicle, Garuda. He killed the crocodile with his çaìkha and chakra, and saved Gajendra. At last she said….As long as we think that we are strong enough, we keep on fighting or struggling in our life. When we find that we are indeed helpless, we seek the help of the Lord.
Late in the evening I was about to leave and over the phone my friend was telling me the story what happened over the day and we were catching upon stuff.
After 2-3 days I sat with a book which had a lavish narration of stories from Greek mythology: “The giant Argus had 100 eyes. Someone’s children are served up at a dinner feast. Andromeda was rescued by Pursues, married him, produced 6 children and was transformed into a constellation. The story of a hunter whose wife thinks he is having an affair with the breeze and winds up shot by her husband's javelin.”
Saturday couple of friend’s are coming down ….again stories & more stories….to know, to inform, to laugh, to cry, to learn, to love and to hate and to criticize, stories of terror and sympathy, stories to construct and to destroy….to live and to die. Stories of the village and stories of the nation. Stories of raise and the fall…To sleep and to awake. Managers have their stories and the developers have their own…
Story becomes history and the history becomes story ….Little fact & little fiction.
I inherited the stories and pass some more stories to my descendants…
A day will come where I myself will become a story…
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