Rough Book

The anticipation kept building up in the last week of the holidays before starting back to school, new shoes, uniforms, books,pencils,erasers have all arrived and decorated the study table. All the notebooks have been covered with standard brown paper and neatly labeled but jut not assigned toany subject since it was the teachers call to ask for a 200 page ruled or white notebook. The text books however have been passed down from elder siblings and the task of erasing all answers from the endof the lessons got serious. An occasional sneak peek at the first lesson or a glance through all the pages of the text book for images was a common thing throughout the holidays. I can recollect the beautiful picture of the earth in color in the Geography book was a favorite specatale.It was as if I couldn’t wait to get back to school.

First day of class 7 section C, a huge classroom with many new faces and finally we got to meet our new class teacher once her introduction was done and the roll numbers issued each of us gets to introduce ourselves to the class which was typically just our name, which was the dreaded part of the first day. I couldn’t wait to start writing in the new crisp notebooks and especially since it was the 7th grade we got to use ink pens to take notes.

The second period rolled in and a we saw a new face for the English teacher, this was also the first time since we get a different teacher for every subject and she seemed so very knowledgeable and equally excited to start teaching. My excitement was sky high to take some notes in the new note books but the teacher had then asked us to write only in the Rough book and to be copied in the fair back home. It had to be a quick call to define a notebook as rough, some opened a new notebook and prepared to write in it but I didn’t want to just take notes in a new book, I reached for my bag and pulled an old notebook which happened to be my 6th grade English notes. There was nearly half the book empty so decided to fold a paper at the end of the written stuff and labeled rough book class 7 on it and prepared to take notes. We were taught The Solitary Reaper a poem by William Wordsworth.

BEHOLD her, single in the field,Yon solitary Highland Lass!Reaping and singing by herself;Stop here, or gently pass!

He wrote this poem as a part of his MEMORIALS OF A TOUR IN SCOTLAND, 1803 a poem aboutA young girl reaping and singing by herself in melancholy as the author listens from a distance he wonders if she is singing about the battles or family matters or about her sorrow, loss or pain working and singing effortlessly to herself as he mounted a hill after which he heard no more but the music bore his heart.

This poem was so beautiful and as I wrote down the meanings of some words I seemed to have understood more of what Wordsworth was trying to say and at that moment I hadn’t cared about me writing in a rough book, the poem was great and I had a great day already in school and more so exactly what I was waiting for to get back to school. The poem was so inspiring that I had to refer to the notes from my favorite poem Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening. By Robert Frost in the 6th grade from the same ‘Rough book’ and as I found the famous lines ‘Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though;’ I knew exactly how I learnt that poem and grasped the essence of it. I remembered my basics and I felt I was back in the groove right on the first day of school and poetically enough I knew I had promises to keep And miles to go before I sleep and was back to the Solitary Reaper.

I went home in the same excitement and finally wrote the summary of The Solitary Reaper in a brand new 300 page note book with crisp hand writing and a firm understanding of my insight to Wordsworth’s thoughts. Now I am still not sure if at the end Wordsworth had himself wanted to be at a Solitary place singing in melody away from sorrow and pain or wanted to meet her to ease her pain but again we are not sure what she is singing about or if she is even sad, we just have thoughts and thoughts on a mind are like bubbles on water, each bubble is short lived but gives room to another. I selected a notebook with hundred extra pages than suggested in hope that I can carry this forward to my next year as a Rough book, a book which will help keep my cumulative thoughts together allowing me to fit in school maybe on the first day again and maybe I can add a few lines to my summary on the Solitary reaper who was Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides.

THE SOLITARY REAPER By William Wordsworth

BEHOLD her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.

No Nightingale did ever chaunt
More welcome notes to weary bands 10
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.

Will no one tell me what she sings?--
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago: 20
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?

Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;--
I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill 30
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

The Three Questions

The Three Questions

A king was well learned in all the Vedas and governed his people very well. There was no dearth or want of anything but three questions always bothered him, he visited many places and met many scholars in vain to find the answers. One day he decided to assign this task to a great scholar who was very learned in literature and philosophy, he summoned the scholar and gave him the questions bothering him.
Where is god?
Which way is he seeing?
What is his work?

The scholar was given six months to find answers to these questions and in return was provided enough money to last , If he was successful in providing answers he would be treated well in gold and silver otherwise be banished from the kingdom. The scholar went home worried and tensed, he was a learned man but not very practical and with this task at hand he was worried and fell sick. This man’s farm was taken care by a little boy who would graze the cows, he was very clever and blessed with knowledge. One day he saw his master worried and decided would go help him , although the master was a learned man he was arrogant to share his problem with a 12 year old but finally decided he would share the problem as the time to meet the king was approaching fast. Once the boy heard the questions he assured his master to be at ease for the rest of the days and asked him to give a note on the due date that he is sick and the note bearer has the answers.

The day finally arrived, the king was very excited to learn the answers he had summoned all the neighboring kings and gathered a great audience to witness this event. The crowd was waiting anxiously to see the great scholar but he didn’t show up instead they saw a young boy walk towards the king and handover a note. The king read the note and felt it was appropriate to let the boy answer the questions as the scholar himself had requested for it.

The king broke the silence and the declared that the boy has the answers and asks him to begin, with a smile the boy replies that since he will be teaching the answers he gets the status of the teacher and needs to be seated on the throne while the king takes the role of the student and needs stand by his side. Shocked with the request the king consults his ministers and decides to do so as it is customary for the teacher to be seated and steps aside.


The king asks out loud "Where is God", in response the boy requests for a jug of milk and asks the king if there is butter in the milk, the king replies that the milk has to ferment and later churned to separate the butter . The boy replies just this way God is one with the entire universe, he who practices and spends time in looking for him will be successful in seeing him, but the persistence and the devotion are required just as extracting butter from milk. The audience was elated listening to the answer based on a simple comparison yet with so much complexity.

The next question was asked "Which way is he seeing?" The boy looks towards an oil lamp and asks the king which way the flame is pointed at ,surprised the king replies it’s not directional but the whole room is illuminated. The boy explains just the way sunlight is spread throughout the universe ,Gods reach is spread throughout which includes the human mind as well and so it is best to keep the mind open to feel god within and his reach has no bounds and is not biased.

The crowd was pleased to see a genius at work and thought "A Daniel come to judgment", excited himself the king finally asked the last question "What is his work?".The boy replies that he brought a simple cow herd to sit on a lavish throne in comfort and took the king of kings down to stand in obedience with folded hands, that is the kind of work he does, whenever and wherever a decline of righteousness and predominance of unrighteousness prevails at that time he manifests himself personally.



The above story is an excerpt from the Vigyana Yoga(chapter 7) ,Bhagavad Gita as narrated by Sri Vidya Prakasanandagiri Swami .In chapter seven Lord Krishna gives concrete knowledge of the absolute reality as well as the opulence of divinity. He describes His illusory energy in the material existence called Maya and declares how extremely difficult it is to surmount it. He also describes the four types of people attracted to divinity and the four types of people who are opposed to divinity. In conclusion He reveals that one in spiritual intelligence takes exclusive refuge of the Lord without reservation in devotional service.

My Day Today

And I was getting late as usual to work and battled my way across the construction signs on the local roads and finally managed to get on freeway not before giving the “I was here first look” and the occasional honk and now that I was comfortably moving at the
Needle on the 20 mph, I had the comfort of taking a sip of the freshly brewed coffee my sweet wife had handed me before I left home and then pushed the decibels up to a comfortable level on the radio. That’s when I thought I heard something familiar and yes I was correct it was the distant voice of the street hawkers vibrating in distant harmony with an occasional tinkle on the bell and this one was apparently one who would sharpen kitchen knives. It was the Morning edition on NPR and the program was about the “The Lost Sounds of Old Beijing” and how family run older professions are being given up for more advanced and less labor intensive work for higher pay.

But the melodic noise and cries made by the knife sharpening hawker on the radio sent me thinking down the memory lane where we would all be eagerly waiting on a hot summer afternoon for a similar rhythmic note, there is the loud roar when heard the first time but then there is calm again just to wait for it again and all are listening as carefully as one can just to confirm. The sense of anticipation, happiness and disappointment can be seen in the group waiting, disappointment is because none wanted the sound to fade, which meant there was more time to wait until the next street is taken care of. To loud cheer it’s heard again this time closer, the sound is a mild tap on the side of a hollow wooden chest followed by the ring of a little bell. He is here the Stick Ice cream guy pushing his little two wheel cart with hand painted pictures of stick ice in various colors on the side and a shade on the top, shade was probably to keep the ice chest cool.

The wait is over, time to get the savings in exchange for the favorite stick ice. However the wait is eminent the kids from the next block who couldn’t face the disappointment of him choosing this street followed his way. There were always fixed places the cart would stop probably to allow a larger group of people. Summer time was the one time when I would get to wait for the ice-cream guy, with schools given a vacation there are a lot of kids around the place and the eagerness is just the same all around. The severe Indian summer heat makes the parents set a time to play out in the open when it gets a little cooler in the evenings, waiting for the ice cream would keep us occupied for a longer period of time which was better than playing board games or being forced to start studying for the next years courses at hand in school.



Apart from the one or two grown ups who would bring in their toddlers for a treat, the rest were all in a groups, usually the playing together group. You could scream out what you wanted the best but you had to wait your turn and everyone was served with equal importance. Mango was the favorite flavor of the time but mine was Grape, we would suck out the sweet flavor first turning the side into white ice before biting carefully not as to break the whole ice of the stick. With water dripping of the side of the stick and the effort not to waste one drop of it and most of all the warning received from the mom not to stain the clothes would make all the kids with the sticks in their hands walk precariously while the others who are still in line are hoping to do the same sooner and have a slight worried face as they see many mango ice sticks around hoping there would be some left in the box for them , but sure is a refreshing and a happy moment when you finally get one and there was always enough for everyone.


Just like that all get what they wanted and start leaving with probably a couple of sticks in their hands still following the same precision for someone home after shelling their hard earned money with colorful lips telling the flavor they had and I stand there trying to get a good look on the side of his wooden ice box before I leave with my Grape ice stick, guess I was just making sure the ice box was intact and that I can continue to keep my ears tuned to the distinct noise in a way that I wouldn’t miss seeing him the next time he goes by.

All are gone and I start walking my way back and a couple of moments later I hear the same beat, there is a sudden rush of excitement and I turn around to see the stick ice cream guy take a turn to the next street just to be eagerly welcomed by others. But for now I am still holding the dried out stick and my fingers have a purple shade on them from the stick ice and I am relieved that it is still the same sound I would have to wait for.


Guess anticipation of good things happening in the future holds more value and excitement than the present and seldom do we remember that we are probably still holding a dried out stick, maybe its time we look at the colored fingers and tell ourselves
Yes I will wait for the sound again with the same zeal but for now I have the stick ice in my hands giving me a reason to wait and happy that I could get one today.