Why We read the Bhagavad Gita, even if We can't understand it?

An old Farmer lived on a farm in the mountains with his young grandson.

Each morning Grandpa was up early sitting at the kitchen table reading his Bhagavad Gita. His grandson wanted to be just like him and tried to imitate him in every way he could.

One day the grandson asked, "Grandpa! I try to read the Bhagavad Gita just like you but I don't understand it, and what I do understand I forget as soon as I close the book. What good does reading the Bhagavad Gita do?"

 The Grandfather quietly turned from putting coal in the stove and replied, "Take this coal basket down to the river and bring me back a basket of water."

The boy did as he was told, but all the water leaked out before he got back to the house. The grandfather laughed and said, "You'll have to move a little faster next time," and sent him back to the river with the basket to try again. This time the boy ran faster, but again the basket was empty before he returned home. Out of breath, he told his grandfather that it was impossible to carry water in a basket, and he went to get a bucket instead.

The old man said, "I don't want a bucket of water; I want a basket of water. You're just not trying hard enough," and he went out the door to watch the boy try again.

At this point, the boy knew it was impossible, but he wanted to show his grandfather that even if he ran as fast as he could, the water would leak out before he got back to the house.

The boy again dipped the basket into river and ran hard, but when he reached his grandfather the basket was again empty. Out of breath, he said, "See Grandpa, it's useless!"

"So you think it is useless?" The old man said, "Look at the basket." The boy looked at the basket and for the first time realized that the basket was different. It had been transformed from a dirty old coal basket and was now clean, inside and out.

"Son, that's what happens when you read the Bhagavad Gita. You might not understand or remember everything, but when you read it, you will be changed, inside and out.
That is the work of Krishna in our lives."

The story of Pencil & Eraser!

Pencil: I'm sorry

Eraser: For what? You didn't do anything wrong.

Pencil: I'm sorry cos you get hurt because of me. Whenever I made a mistake, you're always there to erase it. But as you make my mistakes vanish, you lose a part of yourself. You get smaller and smaller each time.

Eraser: That's true. But I don't really mind. You see, I was made to do this. I was made to help you whenever you do something wrong. Even though one day, I know I'll be gone and you'll replace me with a new one, I'm actually happy with my job. So please, stop worrying. I hate seeing you sad. :)

I found this conversation between the pencil and the eraser very inspirational. Parents are like the eraser whereas their children are the pencil. They're always there for their children, cleaning up their mistakes. Sometimes along the way... they get hurt, and become smaller (older, and eventually pass on).

Though their children will eventually find someone new (spouse), but parents are still happy with what they do for their children, and will always hate seeing their precious ones worrying, or sad.

"All my life, I've been the pencil.. And it pains me to see the eraser that is my parents getting smaller and smaller each day. For I know that one day, all that I'm left with would be eraser shavings and memories of what I used to have..."

Thank you !!!

 

THE CREATION OF THE TEACHER

The Good Lord was creating teachers. It was His sixth day of 'overtime' and He knew that this was a tremendous responsibility for teachers would touch the lives of so many impressionable young children. An angel appeared to Him and said, "You are taking a long time to figure this one out."

"Yes," said the Lord, " but have you read the specs on this order?"

TEACHER
…must stand above all students, yet be on their level

... must be able to do 180 things not connected with the subject being taught
... must run on coffee and leftovers,
... must communicate vital knowledge to all students daily and be right most of the time
... must have more time for others than for herself/himself
... must have a smile that can endure through pay cuts, problematic children, and worried parents
... must go on teaching when parents question every move and others are not supportive
... must have 6 pair of hands.

"Six pair of hands, " said the angel, "that's impossible"
"Well, " said the Lord, " it is not the hands that are the problem.  It is the three pairs of eyes that are presenting the most difficulty!"

The angel looked incredulous, " Three pairs of eyes...on a standard model?"

The Lord nodded His head, " One pair can see a student for what he is and not what others have labeled him as. Another pair of eyes is in the back of the teacher's head to see what should not be seen, but what must be known. The eyes in the front are only to look at the child as he/she 'acts out' in order to reflect, " I understand and I still believe in you", without so much as saying a word to the child."

"Lord, " said the angel, " this is a very large project and I think you should work on it tomorrow".

"I can't," said the Lord, " for I have come very close to creating something much like Myself. I have one that comes to work when he/she is sick.....teaches a class of children that do not want to learn....has a special place in his/her heart for children who are not his/her own.....understands the struggles of those who have difficulty....never takes the students for granted..."

The angel looked closely at the model the Lord was creating.
"It is too soft-hearted, " said the angel.

"Yes," said the Lord, " but also tough, You can not imagine what this teacher can endure or do, if necessary".

"Can this teacher think?" asked the angel.

"Not only think," said the Lord,. "but reason and compromise."

The angel came closer to have a better look at the model and ran his finger  over the teacher's cheek.

"Well, Lord, " said the angel, your job looks fine but there is a leak. I told you that you were putting too much into this model.  You can not imagine the stress that will be placed upon the teacher."

The Lord moved in closer and lifted the drop of moisture from the teacher's cheek.  It shone and glistened in the light.

"It is not a leak," He said, "It is a tear."

"A tear? What is that?" asked the angel, "What is a tear for?"

The Lord replied with great thought, " It is for the joy and pride of seeing a child accomplish even the smallest task. It is for the loneliness of children who have a hard time to fit in and it is for compassion for the feelings of their parents. It comes from the pain of not being able to reach some children and the disappointment those children feel in themselves. It comes often when a teacher has been with a class for a year and must say good-bye to those students and get ready to welcome a new class."

"My, " said the angel, " The tear thing is a great idea...You are a genius!!"

The Lord looked somber, "I didn't put it there."

:)

The Best Teacher

There is a story from many years ago of a primary school teacher. Her name was Mrs. Thompson. And as she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children a lie. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same.

But that was impossible because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stallard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he didn't play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. And, Teddy could be unpleasant.

It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers. At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last.

However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise, Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners…he is a joy to be around."

His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."

His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."

Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and sometimes sleeps in class."

By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents wrapped in beautiful paper and tied with pretty ribbons, except for Teddy's. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag.

Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist. Teddy Stallard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thompson, today you smelled just like my mom used to."

After the children left she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing, and arithmetic. Instead she began to teach children.

Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets."

A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer-the letter was signed, Theodore F. Stallard, MD.

The story doesn't end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he'd met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the place at the wedding that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of course Mrs. Thompson did.

And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together. They hugged each other, and Dr. Stallard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, "Thank you Mrs. Thompson for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference.

Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."

LOVE YOU DAD!

The First Picture is of Kshitij & Second one is Me with Papa!

No Guru, No God mean more to me than my Papa ... He is my God, And I worship him so much.
Today on the occasion of Father's Day I have written a letter to him, good 3 page letter.
Feeling so good now.
I told him how much proud & खुशनसीब I am that I am His Son.
that He didn't tell me how to live, but that I watched him doing so & That was enough.
& I wrote many things else, remembered my childhood days.


I just love him so very much. He is my Life, my God, my Everything ...


Papa, Really grateful for the life You have given me. Best Education, schools & colleges.
For Pocket money & silly expenditures. 
For all my nonsenses & For my Stupid Acts 
& 
For all the things which I am not even aware of. 
Basically, 
Every Single thing ... 


You are the Reason I am, 
You are all my Reasons ...

You spoiled me & yes thus I am so very Dependent on You, can't walk a mile or take a decision or do anything.
Bahut pareshaan karta hu naa aapko?

Love You, Dad.
Love You So Very Much.

Becoming obsessed with my fears at the expense of my dreams!

It was some restaurant, guess the one I visited a few days before and
I met my immediate juniors of engineering college. Don't ask me how we
happen to bump in each other, it quite seems like all planned. And
they have such pity on their face for me, that I left UltraTech and
joined a local B-School. What might have went wrong with him, Why not
any other better B-School of Pune or Mumbai with a better package and
standard.
It was for a few seconds I was with them.
It was only when the phone rang and I woke up that I realized it was
but a dream, a bad dream.


My previous job which I barely ever felt that I did, only I know how
dispassionate I was there. Pay-rolls, sitting in office, other
functions, the natural aptitude what they call it, dealing with people
damn it not Me, not my type. Ever since I left it and started walking
on the other side, chose to walk the path of great resistance life
hasn't been easy for me. So many questions, this constant turbulence
which is happening inside all the time, reasoning explaining why this,
why not that.


Yesterday I met a friend of me, this time not in dream but in real and
he still was suggesting to think one more, HELLO I have joined and you
know everything, different interviews I gave for a teaching job, about
my offer letter, the day of joining and we have been talking about my
job responsibility and how I am feeling awesome about this job for
last 41 minutes to be precise.


Another friend I met after years also kind of asked me, " Don't u
think a little more experience in Industry would have been good? "
OK. Yeah she also said You doing the right thing, your previous job
wasn't made for you and many other things in my support and actually
loved my decision.
But when I sleep I don't remember all those supporting words from
people who loved my decision and praise my so called doing different
things always from the world, REAL WORLD!


Fine. I am in office again, ready to start day's work. Yet I must
confess everyday, every moment I keep reminding myself of the greatest
warriors - Patience and Time, to feel good and alive and happy. No, I
am not trying to convince myself. And right I don't confess, I am
telling you.
My Dad, as my Mother said felt sad and was worried about my decision
to do such a low paid job. I told him - Papa I accepted it, fine won't
earn good money.


I know for myself and 'accepted' can't have a car, even a new bike for
some more time & won't be able to spend lavishly when I will meet
friends, show-off. Have a new mobile or give my family a good amount after
making my own life comfortable. Asked them for his support a little
more.


I am scared but confident. I am happy, no doubt. And Yes I am where I
always wanted to be, the place what I know I belong to. Leave apart
whether or not I am True/RIGHT!


Not gonna spoil what I have now by desiring what I have not;
remembering that what I now have was once among the things I only
hoped for. Though not completely the way it should be.


He he, I read it somewhere “If you want to feel rich, just count the
things you have that money can't buy” !!!
Ok!

Standing At The Fork In The Road

The path of least resistance:

Focus on making good money, have a secure job, buy a house, buy a car, live for the weekend, work for the man – even if you’re uninspired, trapped and aggravated, save up money to retire and enjoy life then. In the meantime buy lots of stuff, concentrate on building relations, networks. Come office, seat on your table, insulate yourself from the outside world, that office is your whole world, go back to sleep. Repeat cycle daily.

The path of great resistance:

Live now, enjoy your work, work for yourself, don’t buy a car – walk to work, ride your bike, take the train, invest in yourself what you value more which is a lifestyle, by loving your work the week becomes the weekend and the weekend is just another night. Work is your play. Be exposed to the intricacies of the natural world, to people, to life flowing all around you. Smile and take action.

I feel crazy of myself for choosing the harder path and sometimes think that there’s something wrong with me for not chasing the money-house-job complex.

I know it in my heart that very soon I will have to make a decision…I will have to choose & the only way to move forward is to pick one and start walking. Presently, I am neither here nor there kind of situation.

Because of the weight and impact of the moment, and limited preview of each option, I find myself completely paralyzed at the head of the fork unable to execute and make a decision.

Internal navigation system seems to be jammed too.

I don’t understand why is it became so important for me to do what makes sense, is practical or what everyone thinks one should do…

Please share your thoughts by commenting….