लिखी भाग्य में जितनी बस उतनी ही पाएगा हाला,
लिखा भाग्य में जैसा बस वैसा ही पाएगा प्याला,
लाख पटक तू हाथ पाँव, पर इससे कब कुछ होने का,
लिखी भाग्य में जो तेरे बस वही मिलेगी मधुशाला।
Love
one fine day it was raining intermittently
Dad asked to keep inside to obviate catching bad health.
It was sometime in 1959
I remember I was sitting beside Dad cot with sweet roti in my hand which mom made in her kachha kitchen which was adjoining to the living room but showers did wet on venturing to go to mom chullah fired by woods or say twigs of cotton plant which Dad called chatia in his chaste punjabi way of speech
I do not remember when night made us all asleep and in the morning Dad went to his farm assignments . Dad was too punctual without any watch to get up at around 4 O' clock in the morning.
I remember a mango plant was sprouting where the kachha nalha of the house roof top showered the rainy water whole the time
2nd day morning I inquired Dad why that beautiful sprouting vanished from its place.
Dad was not so quick in his reply and keenly observed the point where I was pointing to
Dad whispered may be snake has eaten the tasty buddy plant.
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