Born Again

In Bhubaneswar, the ancient temple town that lies between crumbling shrines and mango trees, lived Nirupama, a widow. She had been a schoolteacher once, famous for her strict ways and her sharp tongue. But when her husband died suddenly and she quarreled with her son, she closed up the world for herself, passing her days in silence.

Every morning, she swept the front of her small tiled house, observing the world go by—a grocer arranging his stand, temple bells tolling, a newspaper vendor shouting headlines. She barely noticed any of it.

She saw one day a young street boy, dusty and barefoot, drawing with charcoal on her compound wall. She was irritated at first, approached him, prepared to scold. Before she could utter a word, however, she saw what he was drawing—a drawing of the goddess Durga, smiling peaceably, her eyes full of kindness.

Nirupama halted. "Who taught you this?" she inquired. "No one," he shrugged. "I draw what I feel.

That evening, she could not sleep. The boy's drawing persisted in her thoughts, as did his response. The following morning, she took paper and a pencil to him. "Draw here." she instructed, laying them out on the porch.

From then on, each morning, the boy would come. Nirupama would observe silently initially. But gradually, she started serving him breakfast, followed by questioning, then instructing him on color, proportion, and mythological tales.

She opened the locked storeroom, cleaned it, and converted it to an improvised studio. Passersby started stopping, observing, enjoying, and contributing materials. Nirupama, who had been quiet and defeated before, had found renewed purpose.

One morning, as they watched the sunrise over the temple spire, the boy asked her, “How do you know so much?” She smiled, “Because you taught me to be born again.”

Moral:

It's never too late to begin anew. Each day offers a chance to change, to grow, and to matter.

Inspiration:

Every morning we are born again. What we do today is what matters most." – Gautama Buddha