Whimsical Fantasies

The year was 1998. It was my first visit to the town of Puttaparthi, the name which I'd only heard of vaguely. 'Sai Baba', the man with big hair as I described him when I was young, lived there. I'd only seen him in one photograph, with my grandparents also in it and it was always in the the living room of their house. Everytime I asked about him, my grandpa would just tell me, he's Baba. I do not remember anything more than that. Subsequently, I started witnessing miracles in my aunt's house. Vibhuti coming out from calendars and photos, honey from shirdi baba's idol, rings materialising in a cup of vibhuti began to occur regularly. It was a very different vibration and I was intrigued but all I did was witness them. I had just entered my teens and I was still naïve. It was Christmas time and mom's brothers were visiting Bangalore on vacation. It was an amazing time for my sister and me specially since we got to spend time with my cousin, whom bot...

A story I read on Paulo Celho's blog..  A man came home from work late again, tired and irritated, to find his 5-year-old son waiting for him at the door. “Daddy, may I ask you a question?” “Yeah, sure, what is it?” replied the man. “Daddy, how much money do you make an hour? “That’s none of your business! What makes you ask such a thing?” the man said angrily. “I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?” pleaded the little boy. “If you must know, I make $20.00 an hour.” “Oh,” the little boy replied, head bowed. Looking up, he said, “Daddy, may I borrow $10.00 please?” The father was furious. “If the only reason you wanted to know how much money I make is just so you can borrow some to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. I work long, hard hours everyday and don’t have time for such childish games.” The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door. The man sat down and started to ge...