A TIRING , LOVELESS TORTOISE - (About - Aneet Randhawa)

A TIRING , LOVELESS  TORTOISE

A NIGHTINGALE SINGS TO A TIRING , LOVELESS TORTOISE

I am taking the liberty to post what I consider what one of the most touching kinds of an exchange between me and one of the finest people on Facebook, Aneet Randhawa I have been extremely fortunate in receiving love in abundant, unlimited treasure from some genuinely warm, affectionate and caring people on facebook. But even by my own standards, Aneet's has been a most soothing yet stunning surprise. Never did a surprise occur so smoothly, so noiselessly and so much at a time when it was perhaps most needed,considering some negativity that had begun to creep in some of the exchanges on my wall.

Aneet's little courier, carried on the wings of breeze, not only erased the negativity but more than fully atoned for whatever absence of genuine compassion might have been felt on my wall over the past couple of days.

For this, as for a lot else, there is only thing one can do, but even that one thing would perhaps mar the grace of Aneet's melody:

Here is Aneet's surprise gift to me - which by itself became a most forceful advertisement for all that I have been writing about love on my wall over the past five six days.

(TODAY, ABOUT AN HOUR AGO)

A VOICE IN THE WIND

Dear Harcharan Bains uncle, I wanted to share my success at the selection board with you post commissioning, do not why, I owe a lot to u for this success and this medium FB which gave me an opportunity to interact with u, I didn't do any spl preparation for the ssb, it was virtually you echoing thru me, I think they actually selected you under my garb, I successfully deceived the selection board, donno if I really meet their yardsticks, a big thanks to u bains uncle

(BELOW: MY LITTLE SELF-ADDRESSED POST CARD SET SAIL ON A PAPER BOAT AFTER ANEET'S MAIL)

THE HOUR WHEN NIGHTINGALE REDEEMED A DARKENING VALE

Aneet Randhawa :: Goodness Gracious ! Even when the rest of us are busy debating whether love is spontaneous , free as fragrance and the winds, or transactional - petty, a give and take deal, here you come , Aneet, speaking a language all your own , and speaking to us with the mind of roses and hyacinths and nightingales !

I do not know which great and noble act of virtue are your words a reward for me for ! This is truly the greatest gesture of love ever of the purest and the most sacred kind ever extended to me by anyone in all my years on this planet. Yes, I have always loved you and truly been happy in just your presence out there but that is something which a remarkable child like you must be quite used to from so many others.
But no, I am not going to try to find out to what do I owe this most amazing and incredible offering of love. I intend to bask in it and just relish the unsolicited and undeserved blessing of Nature and Life to me.

This is perhaps God's or Nature's or Life's ( whatever you believe in) way of responding to the thousands of little or long, reply-paid self-addressed return mail love letters I have been writing and setting sail on my paper boats everyday. Someone out there seems to have decided to write a most touching and beautiful acknowledgement of all the songs I sang from my roof tops.
And the medium chosen was THE ONE PERSON about whom I have always felt as if he had always been my own child - Aneet. This is an hour of gratitude from a parent to a son. Thank you, Aneet. And Only you could have done it for your aging elder.

With one stroke, all those long and winding books I wrote on Facebook stand vindicated. In just one God-chosen moment,, the nightingale has chosen the hour of her song to fill a love-forsaken valley - a valley that is "now overflowing with her sound."

This is an hour of miracle. This the hour of love. Should I even say, Thanks, Aneet !! You seem to have loved and smiled even that into irrelevance , rendering love as the only point of relevance to this life..

I could go on - for such is the divine purity of nature of your gesture of love, but no....its just this,: I love you, Aneet. .

(Overlook or correct the typos. Its a family archive.)