Page 26 - Balvihar january 2024
P. 26

Small Moments make


                                      for A Great Life!




           “Hush…! thought Meera as she silently giggled, “This jar is filling up fast. So many good things…”
           She quickly shut the jar and jumped off the wooden bench on the front porch of her tiny
           cottage and scrambled into her house.
                                                  Meera lived in the quaint village of Chinnapur amidst
                                                      lush fields. Her sparkling eyes and cheerfulness made
                                                        her the epitome of joy in her village community.
                                                           Her days were filled with the simple pleasures
                                                             that village life offered.

                                                                  Meera had a secret — every evening as
                                                                   the sun cast a warm golden glow across
                                                                    the village, she would sit by herself
                                                                    and open a small old notebook, with
                                                                   a small picture of Sarasvati Ma in the
                                                                   first  page,  followed  by  a  title  —  Mere
                                                                   saath, meri baat.
                                                                  In this, she wrote the small good things
                                                                  that happened everyday.

                                                                 It was almost like a ritual — it could be the
                                                                melodious  song  of  a  cuckoo,  the  vibrant
                                                             hues  of  a  blooming  wildflower,  the  shared
           giggles with friends, a puppy dancing up to her and licking her hands.
           After writing her chit for the day, Meera carefully folded the chit and dropped it into her most
           priced possession — a glass jar, where she preserved these daily notes of happiness. This jar
           stood like a testament to the countless moments that filled her with happiness. Each chit she
           put into it was a tiny treasure; joy that she discovered in the seemingly ordinary life.

           One day as luck would have it, the jar slipped from her hands and shattered into pieces. Meera
           watched aghast. It felt as if her happiness had been scattered across the floor. Heartbroken,
           Meera sobbed herself to sleep that night. Nothing or none could convince her and none could
           fathom why Meera was so distressed.

           After all the glass jar was just a trivial possession.
           But Meera's father realised otherwise. After Meera fell asleep, he found the fragments of the
           jar and amid the shattered mess he discovered the small chits that Meera had meticulously
           written. As he carefully unfolded each note, Meera's world of joy, unfolded before him. The
           scribbles  painted  pictures  in  front  of  Meera’s  father’s  eyes  of  the  little  joys  that  filled  his
           daughter’s days — the first raindrop on her nose, the taste of freshly plucked raw mangoes,








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                                                 Balvihar - January 2024
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