Sacrifice.........

    It is really difficult to live every moment for another, by strangling the dream of your life.  For you, for me, for everyone, to fulfill your dream, your parents, brothers and sisters, uncles, aunts, every member of the family, kill their countless dreams in their minds.  Forgetting your own dreams makes your dreams come true.  That is, your dream does not come true unless your sacrifice has a full stop.
            You must have seen a small village.  There are more footpaths than paved roads, some houses are paved, some houses are mud, some are grass huts, naked children will play outside, huge, huge, pimple or vada tree, pulling bidis under it, eating tobacco, crossing people painted in chat things.  That's how it used to be.  This is the case in that village.  The main asphalt road was getting a footpath through the small footpaths of this village. Gopal was treading mud on the same footpath.  Stopped at the bus stop waiting for the bus to go to college.  The busstamp near the village is a big noticeable tree or a leaf tapari or a barber shop.  One of the biggest trees in the village.  Gopal was standing under the Vada tree.  Due to the recent rains, the atmosphere was very pleasant.  It seemed so.  Still, the clouds were a little thicker.  It was raining so there was no dog on the bus stand.

           At that moment, a 58-60 year old gentleman was holding a red bag in his hand.  He had a pen in his pocket.  So he was realizing that he was literate.  Yellow tobacco stains appeared on the crumpled white shirt pocket.  Slippers that meet the needs of the feet, slightly torn - broken, but still sewn.  The wool eats water and falls to the ground.  In the same field, after working hard, the heel is very prominent. The face is sad, depressed, desperate and overwhelmed with anxiety.  This grief was clearer than the cloud in the eye.  Wiping the rain-soaked bowl with his hands, he put the bag aside and sat down under the householder's head. So Gopal took one look at him.  And he sat down on the wet table with a little space beside them.  Seeing that the car had not arrived yet, he took out his mobile phone and started playing games on it.  It chirps like a bird, quiet, cool breeze.  He forgot about it and immersed himself in the game in his mobile.

 Suddenly a sound of crying came to his ears.  But since he was busy playing the game, he didn’t pay attention before.  But a similar whisper was heard.  So Gopal immediately looked to the side.  The gentleman on the side was pressing the shell wrapped around his neck to cover his face.  So the sound was suppressing to some extent.  But innumerable streams were flowing from the eyes like springs.  Gopal was very upset to see them.  Quickly shut down mobile games.  He put it in his pocket and went to them.

 Gopal - Uncle, what happened?  That's how the householder came to his senses.  Sadly, he forgot that he was sitting outside.  Then I realized.  Shealy wiped his eyes and just shook his head.

 Gopal (not staying) - Uncle, will anyone say anything?  Is there a quarrel? Still uncle was just shaking his head.

 Gopal: Do you remember anyone?  Saying this, the accumulated grief of the householder became unbearable.  Just like a baby cries at the loss of its mother.  The householder burst into tears.

 Gopal - (with watery eyes, to be patient) If you have something in mind, you can speak.  The grief in the mind remains constant.  And to put it bluntly.  That's what my mother always tells me.

Householder - started looking at Gopal with tears in his eyes.  Who knows what they thought after looking at Gopal.  But as the rain of words fell from their mouths, they began to speak like drops of water.  Sometimes in a rush we tell a stranger everything.  That's what happened.  Gopal was relieved in a few moments by the householder telling him everything like a noisy nallah.

Householder - It is difficult, Ray Baba, to leave one's own dream for another and live for life.  Every day I get a little bit of grief.  And it reminds you of the sore throat of your dreams.  Dad's umbrella suddenly disappeared, I was the big, little sister, brother, mother eating four mouths.  Left school before entering tenth.  Leaving the shame of work, we started working as much as we could.  Because in front of my eyes were hungry anxious faces.  We started making money to satisfy everyone's hunger.  Even if we don't learn, we will teach our sister and brother.  Did they learn? And did I learn?  There is only one.  So Sesame did not fail in his duty as an elder brother.  Both were made teachers.  I got married.  But then he played so much in his life that he never turned to me.  It would be difficult to work hard all your life to fulfill another's dream without adding money.  I forgot my dreams and engaged in fulfilling those dreams.  We started crying in the boy to recover from the grief given by the brothers.  I wanted to be a singer.  But it was not to be.  I wanted to make the child a singer.  Did he become a singer? And did I become one?  So he was sent to Mumbai.  A few days later, he forgot about this father.  And Prem got married and settled there.  He received the award yesterday.  He said that the same credit goes to my guru and wife.  In his speech I was looking for me Ray!  But look, I wasn't there!

 I also want to wear Isni clothes.  It should be very tidy.  But Rs. 150 per day to Isnia per day. It will have to be spent by the child.  So I have never worn Isni clothes in my life.  I am also a man.  I thought I should take a car, but Pora was late for college and hours were running out so I gave him a car.  I suppressed all my desires, aspirations, fun.  You know when it feels the worst, when the one you sacrificed for is not aware of it.  Now what do you think I earned in life?  Nothing. We just lived and died.  Now I am old. Fear of death has disturbed my night's sleep.  Unfulfilled, partial dreams do not let peace.  Similar thoughts come to mind.  Then he sits for hours, staring like Samadhi.  People say it is crazy.  But I'm not crazy.  An artist is just as gentle for art.  Nothing left.  Can you hear me  I mean, you know, I'm not crazy, because the dreams of the dead are so heavy that I can't go on without going crazy.  There were tears in my eyes.  The facial expressions were changing.  The nest of such a day was coming out.  Gopal was coming from Gahi to see their longing.  Just then, householder, I will show you as a song. Wait ..

 Gopal: Yes, listen. No, yes, he was very happy.  An artist who has been struggling for years has had the opportunity to showcase his art, and if he doesn't accept it, it's new.  The householder happily agreed to sing.  To this day, no one has heard the same song.

 "Life is not angry with you, I am surprised

 I am disturbed by your innocent questions

 To live, you have to handle the pain, not just the thought

 If you smile, you have to smile, you have to pay off debts

 Sometimes I feel like smiling, like I have a debt on my lips

 From you ... "

 
      His voice was really captivating.  Seeing the ups and downs, the melody, the sweetness, the firmness.  It was as if the householder was a wild diamond.  As a separate neglected stone.  The alchemy of the sound was such that the trees, leaves, flowers, vines and gopals were all satisfied.  Even the thick clouds began to rain.  It was as if he were praising the song like a true rasika.  Wad was also crying when he heard the grief of the householder, his story and the magic in his voice.  There were tears in my eyes.  The sky was falling.  Gopal was lost in voice.  At that moment, the sound of the bus came to his mind.

 Householders - Come on, my bus has arrived.  The rhythm felt good. The householder got on the bus and left.  Gopal was looking at the bus for a long time.  It's as if the bus is taking an unknown avaliya, unknowingly.  And on the way, the emperor of anonymous music was scattering the lyrics of his song through the window to mix with the rain.

 A storm started in Gopal's mind.  Some memories began to come to mind.  The conditions of his home are the same.  Stomach on hand.  There was no boy-girl distinction, but the parents had put an option before Gopal and his sister.  We can only afford the education of one of the two.  You two decide among yourselves. Who wants to learn it? The sister said, "Let's teach Gopal." Gopal was so smart but she gave up her dreams for her brother.  Gopal was thinking only one sentence in his mind, "It's bad that the one for whom he sacrificed is not aware of it," Gopal took out the phone and called his sister.

 Sister - this is Gopal Bol baby,

 Gopal is calm, listening to her voice, sister - hello ... is there any sound coming ??

 Gopal - Tai .. Thank you so much.  I will always respect the sister who embraced her own dream.

 Sister - Gopal Bala ... Gopal cut off the phone saying that.  It was raining.  He wiped the raindrops on the screen of his mobile and took out the wallpaper of the old heroine and set a photo of Tai.  She looked at the photo and smiled sweetly.  Maya pursed her lips in the photo.  And put the mobile back in his pocket.  Just then a college bus arrived and he left.  There are many such people around us in the house.  Who always live for others.  It takes a lot of heart.  You have to take care of such a different person. In your life, someone like that has given up.  Now remember them at this turn of life.  It will work even if you are not grateful for a long time, but don't be ungrateful.




 - Avinash Waghmare