Posts Tagged ‘Pooja Tripathi’

Japan: Dignity amidst destruction

April 5, 2011

Not a single visual of chest-beating or wild grief. Sorrow itself has been elevated.

Disciplined queues for water and groceries. Not a rough word or a crude gesture.

The incredible architects, for instance. Buildings swayed but didn’t fall.

People bought only what they needed for the present, so everybody could get something.

No looting in shops. No honking and no overtaking on the roads. Just understanding.

Fifty workers stayed back to pump sea water in the N-reactors. How will they ever be repaid?

Restaurants cut prices. An unguarded ATM is left alone. The strong cared for the weak.

The old and the children, everyone knew exactly what to do. And they did just that.

They showed magnificent restraint in the bulletins. No silly reporters. Only calm reportage.

When the power went off in a store, people put things back on the shelves and left quietly


— Pooja Tripathi

From a facebook note by Pooja Tripathi.

Yes, that is what I noticed some time ago, very stoic behaviour, no blaming of God, they accepted it as the force of nature.

Thinking of Home
Wishes and cranes with love
How to save people in Eastern Japan
Thoughts and prayers for Japan

Dreams do come true

April 4, 2011
nostalgia by Eisblume

nostalgia by Eisblume

When a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person to realize his dream. — Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

There are always two choices in life, either put up with the conditions as they are, or take the responsibility to change them. — Pooja Tripathi

I’m constantly blinking my eyes trying to stay awake
I feel like I’m fallen and I know I better awaken
I’m constantly reminiscing on what are the meanings of my dreams
My dreams are beyond an ordinary dream
In my dreams I have already been here and there
I feel like I’m trapped in a cage
Because it continues to leave me puzzled like a maze
I feel like in life it is meant for us to dream
Because dreams are what bring life to reality
All I know is I must awaken before life passes me by
Because I pray when I die I get to live in the sky

— sehar

A doctor by profession and a child by heart. A teacher by choice and a dreamer by soul who aspires for civils,A poet,a blogger who wants to be a writer,A dancer who is an optimistic and believes in enjoying every moment of life – good or bad because gift of life is life itself,An aquarian whose life’s motto has always been “LIFE IS FOR ONCE,MAKE IT LARGE”………….n thats ME

There are always two choices in life, either put up with the conditions as they are, or take the responsibility to change them.

Pooja reads and comments on Paulo Coelho’s blog. One day to her surprise, Pooja recieved an e-mail:

Dear Dr. Proja
I prefer to post your story as my “Reader’s story” later this week, that is why I did not approve the comment
I am copying to my good friend, also a warrior of the light, Priya, who will make the necessary corrections.
Thank you for sharing

The e-mail was from Brazilian writer Paulo Coelho, and true to his word he published her story on his blog.

There are always two choices in life, either put up with the conditions as they are, or take the responsibility to change them.

It happened one fine day when I was at my father’s clinic attending to his patients whilst he was out of town. A lady named Saraswati came with her one year old daughter. The baby was burning with fever, when I took her temperature I realized it was at 103. I scolded the lady for not bringing her baby in any earlier. The lady started crying, saying she did not have the money for the doctor’s fees and medication (I didn’t pay much attention to this since this is a very common occurrence at my father’s clinic).

Saraswati then told me her story. She had got married three years ago; her parents paid a dowry of 10,000 rupees. However, her husband ran away with the money and leaving her pregnant. Saraswati returned to her home and took on the job of a servant. Her husband’s family did not care about whether her daughter was sick or well since she was a girl.

After telling me her story, Saraswati left. I did not charge her, but I knew that this would not solve her problem. I thought about Saraswati all night and wondered what could be done to help these illiterate, cheated and downtrodden women.

Then the next day I received a call from my aunty who needed a housemaid for her daugher-in-law who had just had twins. I felt as if God had showed me a way to help Saraswati.

I recommended her to my aunty. My aunty gave Saraswati a good income and a good home to live in.

After a few days she came with her sister who was educated and was looking to become independent like her sister. I recommended her to one of my friends for a receptionist’s position. From this came the idea of NAARI, an organization for making women self-dependant.

Setting up NAARI was not an easy task, since there are so many legal formalities for female organizations. I was very young and all alone, so I dropped the idea. And then one sunny morning when I was having coffee a group of women came to my house (guided by the ever so dear Saraswati of course).

Everybody had a common story, cheated, exploited and dowry victims.

I recommended nine of these women to domestic maid jobs.

Now these ladies are independent and all eleven of them are working hard to live a respectable life. I may have not been successful in giving them an organization but when one day Saraswati came to my home with a box of sweets because she had got admission for her daughter at a nearby school, she fell to my feet and said : you have given my daughter and I a respectable living, may God give you much success.

I realized I had done nothing I just showed them a way – a way to self-respect and thereafter, all eleven of them continued this tough journey themselves.

She thanked Paulo and he replied: “Thank you for sharing the story. you are not only a beautiful soul, but a good writer too (went through your blog.”

And having been in communication with Pooja all evening, I can only say I agree with Paulo, she is a beautiful soul, who radiates an outer beauty, and she is a good writer. As my lovely friend Iva with who I was chatting later would say (and says of me), she is a typical Aquarian.

But it did not end there. She had e-mails following publication on Paulo’s blog, one of which she reproduced as it was yet another story, which was also posted as a comment on Paulo’s blog to the original story.

On the eve before fleeing my homeland in April 1975, I was struck with a mysterious infliction (some kind of severe, internal bleeding and clot). Some at the hospital announced I only had a few days to live. Others with my condition had already died. My father refused to believe in this fate for me, refused to give in to the despair swirling around him. He was not alone.

There was a young, female doctor who performed an immediate surgery on me to remove whatever it was that stood in the way of my breath and caused blood to pour from my mouth. I was four years old and one of the few memories I have from that time in the hospital was being in a room full of sick and dying children and thinking, “I am not going to die. Not today. Not here.”

Doctors like you make a difference. Hope makes a difference.

Thank you to you and to all the doctors out there saving lives. As we say in Vietnamese, cảm ơn bạn rất nhiều. Thank you so much.

We all have dreams, but how many follow our dreams? We make excuses, then we bemoan our fate and are envious of others who have all the luck.

We are all presented with the same opportunities in life, the difference is that some grasp the opportunities that life offers them, are like Santiago in The Alchemist prepared to take risks to fullfil their dreams.

For me it was as a dream come true when Paulo Coelho invited me to his St Joseph’s Day party in Istanbul. Meeting him was like meeting an old friend I had known forever. Being in Istanbul, was in itself like being in a dream.

Meeting my lovely friend Sian was like a dream come true. I often used to think when we met, would I wake up one day and find that was all it was, a dream.

When I came back from Istanbul I went to see my lovely friend Sian. I wanted to share with her the excitement of my trip to Istanbul. I told her of how meeting Paulo was like meeting an old friend who I had known forever. I or maybe she said it was like when we met, something clicked, as old as time itself we had known each other, two soul mates reunited

The Road Not Taken
Dreams Do Come True
Two Choices in Life
Reader’s story: two choices in life

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