Session IV

Twilight at the Park

- Pinky Rathi
Red rimmed eyes with shadows like corals in their depth bore witness to her
painful night. She knew her back was strained, the hard surface of the bench was
hurting her but it was the only bench which gave her a view of the walking trail,
hidden behind the hanging branches in midst of two trees. She didnt want any
company and the spot was perfect.
She looked intently at the two men walk past her, father and son. A prickle and
twinge in her heart, she bit on her already worn out red lips. The salty taste in
her mouth were just in line with her raging emotions.
Diffused light of the early morning sky, was a reflected her own sombre
A flash of sitting on her

The diffused light from the sky during the early evening or early morning when
the sun is below the horizon and its light is refracted by the earth's atmosphere.
b. The time of the day when the sun is just below the horizon, especially the
period between sunset and dark.
2. Dim or diffused illumination.
3. A period or condition of decline following growth, glory, or success: in the
twilight of his life.
4. A state of ambiguity or obscurity

Twilight is the time between dawn and sunrise or between sunset and dusk,
during which sunlight scattering in the upper atmosphere illuminates the lower
atmosphere, and the surface of the earth is neither completely lit nor completely
dark. The sun itself is not directly visible because it is below the horizon. Owing
to the distinctive quality of the ambient light at this time, twilight has long been
popular with photographers and painters, who refer to it as the "blue hour", after
the French expression l'heure bleue. Twilight is technically defined as the periods
between sunset and sunrise during which there is natural light provided by the
upper atmosphere, which receives direct sunlight and scatters part of it towards
the earth's surface.[1]

I Am A Tree
A Hobos Song

I was walking in the park

September 23rd, 2009 | Author: The Tree
This one takes me back. Its Marillion, Fish-era, performing the Misplaced
Childhood album live. Lavender, the song below, was always one of my favorite
Fish lyrics. The first verse is just so bloody evocative to me. Anyway, heres the
video (from the Loreley concert).

I was walking in the park dreaming of a spark

When I heard the sprinklers whisper
Shimmer in the haze of summer lawns
Then I heard the children singing
They were running through the rainbows
They were singing a song for you
Well it seemed to be a song for you
The one I wanted to write for you, for you
Lavenders blue, dilly dilly, lavenders green
When I am King, dilly dilly, you will be Queen
A penny for your thoughts my dear

A penny for your thoughts my dear

I.O.U. for your love, IOU for your love
Lavenders green, dilly dilly, lavenders blue
When you love me, dilly dilly, I will love you
A penny for your thoughts my dear
A penny for your thoughts my dear

daily alliance daimoku 6-9 am 9-11 pm

lets us awaken to our mission of accomplishing kosenrufu together with sensei
Meeting Content
Study Beacon Chapter and mentor disciple spirit
Future division dance and all division songs
6 experiences of victory in faith
Message fm Sensei chant for it
Focus on Home Visits
Individual guidances
Human Revolution
Daimoku 90 minutes daily
Shaka Buku eachone to introduce one person
Attendance 250 members and guests

Session III Baby found near the Dargah

What according to you is ones true identity and what is that one value you
thank your family for? the judge asked her.
Anamika went cold, her wide smile faltered. Eyes, which had been sparkling just
moments past, registered shock for a second. She looked at the judge and
brightened her shaky smile hoping to outshine her pause and the sudden silence.
As she struggled, her mind just drew a blank. Identity! True identity! Family
values, they were not alien words, instead wasnt these words exactly that her
whole life had been about.
As the past 20 years of her life flashed through her mind, it took all her 5 years
of training and grooming to keep smiling. This moment was too important to let
her past shroud her thoughts now. She realised, the world was waiting for her to
answer. A quick glance at the camera reminded her of innocent eyes that would
be watching her. She could not mess this up. It was time to give due regard to
the judges query. And it was just that, a query. The mask came back on.
Directing an over bright smile at the judge Anamika reached to the deep
recesses of her heart and breathed.
Good evening members of the jury and thank you for the question. A true
identity is that what we build from what hand life deals us. And the most
important value that a family is the importance of sincerity in all our
relationships she quickly finished. The judge looked disillusioned waiting for
more. Anamika shivered.

A group of huddled kids far away in a small room, waited with bated breath. They
were oceans away but she could feel their expectant eyes on her. It was just for
them Anamika continued, Our true identity is what we create, everyone starts
with a blank slate and it is up to us what we write on it. Its not a background or a
family that is our true identity it is our self-respect and character. A resounding
applause broke out as the judge sat down satisfied.
She had won the title that day. She was Ms. Universe. As per the contract
Anamika travelled the world as Ms. Universe. In the media, at the events and in
social groups she was the new face of beauty with a purpose. Nobody cared
about her name. She was just Ms. Universe. All her years of hard work had given
this. This was who she was now. What people saw.
In all her finery, the white Chanel gown, her Ms. Universe crown adorning her
head, Anamika barged into the small room where she knew all of them would be
seated gaping at the Discovery Channel. Her arrival was a surprise. Turning at
her loud hello they all jumped up to hug her. In two minutes she was
surrounded with a group of 30 children of all ages yelling in joy. Anamika
realised, she maybe Ms. Universe outside, but here, in this chaos, she was just
their Didi. They recognised her as the one who taught them, the founder of this
venture Hope. As easily as she had adorned the crown, Anamika slipped back
into the role of Didi. She knew they looked up to her for answers to the
questions life threw at them. They were kids who came from abject poverty and
the venture was a small foundation where they could learn to build their
character. They were trained in any skill that they liked. Here they got the
opportunity to move forward, no matter where they came from.
Anamika unlocked her sanctuary, her bedroom. Nobody entered there. It was a
space that she kept to herself. The walls had all kinds of certificates and degrees.
Numerous trophies adorned the shelves. Her ward robe was full of her childhood
clothes, from school captain jacket to her colleges rotary cap. Keepsakes,
collected over the years or on her travels. All of it was lined up in a chronological
way, in a manner of last the 20 years. To an outsider it would look like clutter but
to her they were proof that she had lived these moments. Each item here in
some form or the other answered the world who she was. She removed the
crown and put it on the shelf. Another trophy.
She sat down at the dressing table. The mask slipped, her clear eyes clouded.
After 6 years of sheer hard work. She wondered if she had succeeded. The
judges final question still rankled, What according to you is ones true
identity?
As she stared at the mirror but no image reflected back. The mirror was covered
with clippings of paper, scrawled labels collected just like the keepsakes,
clippings of identities, Class monitor, Prom Queen Rotary Secretary,
Founder & Chair Hope Didi and now she stuck another Ms. Universe. But
it was among all these labels, a newspaper clipping stood out in the centre Baby
found near Dargah.

With a hand on my head injury, I witnessed as the local senior official had a word
with my friend, some moments past, he had been on the phone having word with
some unknown person. It had all felt so surreal. Later my friends father, one of
citys leading doctors explained it was the trauma of the accident. Wonder what
he would say was the malady impaling the local authorities present.
Anna Hazare Campaigners had termed it Corruption. A spectator to the lakhs
thronging in support, my righteous self too had felt a tug. Indeed India had to
stand up against this disease taking over our country. Work limited personal
attendance but intrinsically I supported the cause. It was time to take cognizance
with the idealist within, time to stand true to self. Hard debates with friends,
colleagues or family. Disgust against what ailed our countrys leaders? Where

was the sense of national pride towards fighting corruption? The time for a
change had come. The nation was rising as one and I sure was part of it. I felt
power within.
Till that fatal day. The way our car had swerved, the fact that the bonnet hit on
the drivers side, the fact that we were at 40 km speed, the local witnesses that
saw the truck negligently speeding on our side of the road, hitting us head on. It
was an open shut case. But not truly, cause we the complainants were swayed
with the strong credence that it wasnt in best interests to lodge an FIR. Rhetoric
questions were sowed. Our friend, the only male, travelling with four women, did
he really need the trouble of leaving the car behind? Did we really want to take a
daily four hour drive to the local courts with lawyers? This could be a long drawn
investigation. Wouldnt we rather check for fractures instead?
At a makeshift nursing home, a broken down building stood for the village
hospital. Bewildered, in shock, worried, dazed by the intensity of the local truck
union gathering outside the hospital, for my friends and me, the officials words
were gospel.The local beat officials smiling convincing us of they had our sincere
best at heart. No monetary benefit discussed so was it the simplistic petty
corruption for the officials urging the easy way or just in a days work? Was it the
chat up on the phone or just our interest at heart for the smiling beat constable?
Was he just reducing his burgeoning workload or increasing his back pockets
burgeon from an unknown source?
My friend chose to not lodge an FIR. Mere hours away from the financial capital,
close to the home of the crusader himself. The irony stood out. We were
powerless, courage and inclination to take the culprits to task lacking. Wonder
what Annajis campaigners would say. Long drawn TV debates, street protests,
boiling blood and a forum against the malady doesnt ring true at an ordinary
accident site.
As fellow passengers we had participated in a string of major corruption scandals
from the telecom licencing scam to the alleged fraud at the international
Commonwealth Games. But found ourselves vulnerable at the accident site.
Despite best intentions, corruption had extended to our personal live on that day.
We could not argue with the grinding daily routine of petty corruption that
perhaps is at the root of it all.
Whether its waiting in the queue to check on a passport renewal even after3
months of application, my brothers pay some extra above the standard fee to
avoid "too much bother" seemed reasonable. But I had stood strong ground. I
will toe the line. "And no one does anything. The politicians won't do anything
because they are all corrupt too. I had supported the campaign whole heartedly.
Someone needed to be accountable. But were my friends and I are accountable
for our decision to not account for the accident itself. All these protests are very
inspiring but will people really change? After that day, I don't know. It wasnt a
state institution or a private authority, I was disappointed with myself.

Hazare is campaigning for a powerful new anti-corruption ombudsman with the right to
investigate senior politicians, officials and judges. His critics say this would be undemocratic,
and worry about the division of powers. But for people like restaurateur Vishal, Hazare is a
hero. "At least he is doing something," he said. "No one else is."
Though bribery, or "graft", is a fact of life for more or less everybody in India, the
demonstrators are largely urban, educated and relatively well-off. "What you are seeing on
the street is a middle-class rebellion," said Mohan Guruswamy, a former senior official in the
ministry of finance and founder of the Centre for Policy Alternatives thinktank.
Support for Hazare is particularly strong among those who have benefited most from India's
recent breakneck economic development but are frustrated by a largely unreformed public
sector that delivers poor and haphazard services. They are often the young.
Tens of millions of school and college-leavers pour into the Indian jobs market each year.
growth and with skill levels low and good jobs scare, unrest could rise.
Senior Congress party politicians this week argued that some level of graft was "inevitable"
in a developing economy. However, analysts said the extent of the problem in India which
ranks at 87 out of 178 on the campaign group Transparency International's index of
corruption is unique. "India is comparable to China, doing better than Russia, less well than
Brazil," said Robin Hodess, the group's research director. "But bureaucratic and petty
corruption is extreme in India."
Some say India's generally patchy law enforcement is to blame. "We are politically advanced
in terms of institutions," said Guruswamy. "We have courts, a parliament and a long tradition
of democracy ... but very few people are ever held to account." Last week a senior judge
faced unprecedented impeachment proceedings 25 years after the alleged offence.
Others say those who pay the bribes are to blame too. One supreme court lawyer who refused
demands for commissions in return for sanctioning payment for work he had done for the
government, said giving in to corruption could be down to "deep powerlessness" or simply a
"I just want to get on with my day" type of attitude. "As Indians we see corruption as
something that permeates our lives, like air pollution, but we need to think much more
carefully about it," he said.
But the widespread anger is also due to a sense that modern India not only deserves better but
needs to at least moderate rampant corruption to compete on the world stage.
"In India we are sometimes a little slow or dysfunctional but civil society, simple democracy
can make a huge difference," added Thoniparambil.

Double shock

I could feel only the pain in the head, as I reeled and tried getting up from the
car seat. I couldnt remember where I was or what had happened? For that
matter when had it happened? Who was with me? I recognised the people
around me but I still really couldnt understand what had happened? When had it
happened and How?
My friend shook me, as she started asking me some quick questions. Thats how
she relates it. They say when you get into an accident, your first reflex comes to
fore. All I remember feeling is that I have to teach whoever did this to us a
lesson, mind you I didnt know who was the enemy or what he had done but a
lesson was to be taught.
As I walked towards the truck I had no pen nothing in my hand but want to write
but ready to fight I was. All this ofcourse is a surreal memory as I sometimes
wonder if I truly was in an accident. I guess the regular headaches are evidence
of it.
If you file an FIR, you will have to leave the car behind and come back here with
a lawyer. I remember the Sub Inspector telling my friend in the makeshift that
they call a hospital. I remembering getting up from the bed to understand why
he was trying to make it our fault. I have always been a regular honest citizen of
India, then why suddenly I felt as if I needed some untold powers to feel safe in
my own country.

Session III Baby found at Dargah

Buttering the toast, and pouring coffee, he read the headlines of the local
newspaper. His wife asked him, We have to attend the Agarwals party tonight.
Please come back early so that we can reach there on time. He looked up and
smiled and nodded.
Ashwini was relieved. He had been in such a grave mood for the past two days,
but he seemed to be in a better mood now she reflected as she bade him
goodbye.
Ranjeet didnt flinch at the unnatural scent that assailed him as he walked into
the laboratory.
did you read the headlines today sir? Another baby found at the Dargah. This is
the third baby left in the month. Another healthy baby boy, with not even a
scratch.

Ranjeet ignored his assistant as he walked past him to the board. Standing in
front of the board, he stared at the city map. Pins were put to highlight the
Dargahs in the city.