UNCLE’S SHIRT A Story by M.A.Rathore

 UNCLE’S SHIRT 

A Story by M.A.Rathore

I can remember the story as it happened. This incident that I am going to relate to you happened many years back when we two friends left our respective sweet homes to pursue our aims for the job of some high rank, viz. RAS, IAS. My college friend Rajender Singh Sindhu was with me. I was a novice who could not perform the activities even his daily requirements such as making chapattis, and vegetables and even washing my clothes except that I could sweep my room well and wash my kitchen wares perfectly. We divided our duties; he was given the charge of making Rotis and vegetables and I was assigned the cleanliness of the house along with the clothes that I had to wash and iron them. 

 In the next flat, there lived an Uncle on the second floor. He used to work in an electrical department and was a middle-aged energetic man. Once he washed his shirt and other clothes. God knows how that shirt came to our compartment. I picked up that shirt and was ready to surrender to Uncle but instantly an idea came into my mind if I could iron that shirt, it would be much better for Uncle. I went to him to give his shirt back well-ironed. He thanked me for my services and went back to his room. The next day he came with so many clothes in his hands for iron. I stood bewildered and motionless. What was to be done? Years after I suddenly remember the incident as if it happened yesterday.  Copyrighted. 

HOPE A poem by M.A. Rathore

HOPE

A poem by M.A. Rathore

 

Never lose hope

You will never know

What the future may bring,

Future waits for you

With a garland and a ring;

No matter whether you suffer hard today

For your desired goal,

Don't let yourself leave

Believe you shall perform it one day.

 

One by one, you take a step

From the first task walking towards success,

With your mother's support

And a constant practice of talking;

Now it's time to get the fruit of the ripened action,

Sowing, watering, reaping,

And winnowing is at the last stage.

 

Your mother is waiting for

The day to come off with a fine feast;

All hidden sorrows will end,

So never give up hope.

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MY PET RATS A Story by M.A.Rathore

MY PET RATS 

   A Story by M.A.Rathore                        

“It is better to pet a cat at your home. It will kill all the rats, and you will feel relieved after getting rid of all the rats which are destroying the provisions at your house and teasing you at night; while they acrobat on an electrical wire which passes over you where you sleep.” Won’t they tease you like this, Sir?” asked a boy who was so curious and was looking serious to solve my present problem within a short time.
“Sir, do you believe in Lord Ganesha?
“Yes, but”
“The mice are the vehicle of Lord Ganesha. If you want to get rid of them, it is better to serve them ‘Modak’, the most delicious confectionery Lord Ganesha used to like.” suggested another boy who was so smart yet with a traditional bent of mind.
“Hum, OK. I’ll try.”
“I would suggest you pour petrol or kerosene over the hole where the rats live in your house. It will burn them all. Another boy suggested someone who looked mysterious in his looks and had a long haircut in some modern style.
“Hum, thank all of you for suggesting to me so many ways to get rid of the rats that have been teasing me the whole night,” I said.
I was presiding over as the guest of the last session of the five days SUPW Camps at Govt. Boys School, Mundwa. By the time we were in some teachers’ training camp on special education for disabled children or children with special needs. Mr. Kasaniya was the head teacher and the manager of the camp. He was the backbone of the institution; amiable and kind-hearted by nature. On the concluding day, I was asked to address the volunteers at the camp. It was a great experience with the grownups. They were all respectful students; young and getting maturity. I was in terror of the rats that had usurped my house with their band of robbers. I couldn’t able to sleep at night due to their access of them. They were everywhere. In the daytime, I used to think they were playing and won’t destroy anything from my house. But it was the way I was thinking. They started playing the entire night and cut everything they came to contact; even my documents were not safe from their clutches. All of a sudden there came an idea. I thought I should ask the students for their views regarding the issue. The session ended with laughter and so many questions left to answer them.
I came to my house with so much brooding in my mind which was going on. As soon as I entered my room I forgot all my sorrows as usual while I sat with my pen to compose a poem on daily bases. The last session took me midnight and a call for sleep. I went to sleep and had a deep sleep. All of a sudden I was awakened by the rats which jumped right on my chest; I got up terrified; threw the rats far from my body; sat on my cot throbbing and with sweat; sued them away and went to sleep again, but what could be done? They made me woke up the whole night. I sat again and tried to think the different ways of getting rid of them. I remembered the counselling of the boy who suggested me serve ‘modak’ to the rats.

It was winter. My mother had sent some ‘modak’ made of pure ‘Deshi’ ghee and so many other things we generally add; prepared at my home with lots of love for me. I got up and threw a piece of ‘modak’ in and around the hole which was made round by biting the corners of both the doors just between the centre, and went to sleep again. Yes. I got up late in the morning the next day though I was getting late for my school. The next day while I was preparing my dinner I had an idea flashing again in my mind. I made a chapatti; added some ghee to it and put it inside the hole. The whole night I was sleeping with ease though sometimes I could hear the quarreling of rats I was not much disturbed by them that night. The next day I got up; I had an idea again which was as fresh as my creative mind then. I started thinking like Skinner and Pollock, the great psychologist and scientists who had experimented on the animals like rats, cats, dogs and monkeys and invented so many ways to control the behaviour of animals as well human beings.

Now I had understood all. I began to behave friendly with the rats and provided their proper diet to them just before eating my meal. I whistled in a shrilled voice and put the food over there. I managed their food even on the occasions when I had invitations from some marriage party. I used to collect something for the rats from the nearby houses in the neighbourhood.

Months rolled by. I noticed there were not more than one or two rats left. And I had hardly seen them together outside the hole of the room where they had made a perfect hole in the centre of the doors. It was not easy to enter any cat through the hole. One of the rats was growing in size. It was not easy for it to cross the door through the hole now. As usual, I provided them with their meals. After winter vacation I came back and saw there, small rats playing there as if they were enjoying their holidays at their grand paternal house with me. I felt they were my children and grandchildren. Together with them, I used to dine as if it was my own family. Now they were my pets. The time I had to leave my old rented house I felt panged for my pets. Even while I am writing the story of my pets, my heart is benumbed instantly for them. “Had the cute pets with me?”Jai Ganesha. © 2017