New Year’s Resolution 2017 – I Will “Flower” Where God Has Planted Me

New Year’s Resolution 2017

You must know how to Flower where God has Sown You

Inspirational Pep Talk

By

VIKRAM KARVE

I learnt more about the Art of Living by reading good literature – rather than from hearing sermons and moral lectures – or from high-falutin philosophy or spiritualism.

One thing good about the Navy is that it inculcated and fostered the reading habit in me.

I read a lot of sea stories and novels like The Cruel Sea, The Caine Mutiny, Run Silent Run Deep, HMS Ulysses, Tales of the South Pacific  and so many more.

One sea novel I like very much is THE CAPTAIN by Jan De Hartog

In this story – the protagonist is a Merchant Navy Officer who is frustrated because – owing to reasons beyond his control – he gets stuck in Tugs whereas he wants to sail in the main fleet.

Seeing his frustration – his Tug Captain gives him a maxim:

“ Ou Dieu vous a seme – il faut savoir fleurir ” 

which roughly translated means

“ You must know how to flower where God has sown you ” 

or

“ wherever God plants you – there you must learn how to bloom ”

The young Merchant Navy Officer takes this to heart – he works very hard on the Tug – and then – he works with dedication, sincerity and devotion to duty throughout his career on Tugs.

In due course – he becomes the most famous sea-going Tug Captain – and ultimately the owner of flourishing company with a huge fleet of ocean going tugs.

Inspired by this book – I too tried my best to imbibe this philosophy in my life – especially in my Naval Career – and – I tried my best to “flower” wherever the Navy posted me.

It is good philosophy to apply in your life:

“Wherever God plants you – there you must learn how to flower and bloom...”

“LIKE IT” OR “LUMP IT”

If you do not get what you like – then – you must learn to like what you get – and – you must make the most of it 

Like they say in the Navy:

If you don’t like it – just lump it.

“Like it” or “Lump it” 

There is another saying I read a few years ago:

If life gives you a lemon – make lemonade.

Yes – when life gives you a “lemon” – use that “lemon” and make “lemonade” – instead of cribbing and carping – wallowing in self pity – becoming bitter and spreading bitterness – and making your own life hell and everyone else’s life miserable.

Like they say in NLP :

There is no such thing as “failure” 

There is only “learning experience”

So – metaphorically – the “lemon” is the failure – and – the “lemonade” is the learning experience.

And this “learning experience” will enable you to “flower” and “bloom” wherever you are “sown” or “planted”

Well – I have tried to follow this mantra: “ Ou Dieu vous a seme – il faut savoir fleurir ”  

When I was in the Navy – wherever the Navy transferred me – to whatever job they assigned me – whether they promoted me or not – I tried not to get disillusioned or demoralized – and in my own inimitable style – I tried to do my best to “flower” and “bloom” wherever I was “sown” or “planted”. 

Yes – I made “lemonade” with all the “lemons” the Navy gave me.

I am trying to do this after my retirement too – trying to “flower” and “bloom” in the back-of-beyond lonely place called Wakad, near Pune – where God has planted me after my retirement. 

That is one of the reasons you are reading this Blog.

Yes – the result of all this “flowering” and “blooming” is this prolific Blog and the couple of books I have written. 

Well – I am going to “flower” and “bloom” away and “bash on regardless” with my Blogging and Writing – since this is the best thing I can do where God has planted me. 

God has given me the “lemon” of loneliness. 

And – from this “lemon” of loneliness – I have made the “lemonade” of my blogs and my books and all my writing.

Have a good day - whatever “lemons” you get today – just keep making “lemonade” and enjoy every drop of it.

Sometimes you may feel a sense of “failure” – you may feel that you have “failed” in life.

There is no such thing as “failure” – it is all in the mind.

And still if you feel a sense of “failure” – think of “failure” as a “lemon” – and make “lemonade”.

Talking of the “lemon” of “failure” – let me tell you one thing I have learnt from my own life experiences.

Sometimes – failure is good

You can take my word for it.

Remember the maxim:

“ Ou Dieu vous a seme – il faut savoir fleurir ”  

(wherever God plants you – there you must learn how to flower and bloom)

Apply this to your life – and you will “flower and bloom” wherever you are.

Dear Reader: 

Wish you a Very Happy New Year 2017 

May you “flower and bloom” wherever God has planted you.

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

1. These are my personal views. Please do your own due diligence while selecting a philosophy of life.

2. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)

This article is an abridged version of my article posted online at urls: http://creative.sulekha.com/ou-dieu-vous-a-seme-il-faut-savoir-fleurir_469567_blog  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2010/10/ou-dieu-vous-seme-il-faut-savoir.html  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/10/learning-art-of-living-from-literature.html and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/11/navy-philosophy-like-it-or-lump-it.html and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/10/insipirational-self-help-mantra.html etc

New Year’s Eve Party

Here is a story I wrote 10 years ago on New Year’s Eve – in December 2006. I think it is worth a read before you head for your New Year’s Eve Party...

“HAPPY” NEW YEAR – a Story By Vikram Karve

She licked the salt from her hand and drank the shot in one go – then had a long swallow of beer that met the tequila’s burn as it rose.

 

Everyone clapped and cheered. 

With that one act she had crossed the barrier.

She was no longer the rustic girl from the mofussil.

Now – she was one of “them”.

No longer would she have to hear those derisive jeers and taunts which pierced her heart – dehati, behenji etc – for now she would “belong”.

 

“Hey, Mofussil Girl, that’s not the way to have a shot,” Cute Girl said.

 

“Please don’t call me Mofussil Girl,” she said.

Then Mofussil Girl looked at Cute Girl.

Cute Girl was one of those sophisticated synthetic urban beauties who looked real chic.

Cute Girl was Mofussil Girl’s role model.

 

“Then let me see you do a Los Tres Cuates,” Cute Girl said.

 

“What’s that?” Mofussil Girl asked.

 

“Come on Mofussil Girl, don’t you know what’s a Los Tres Cuates – ‘The Three Chums’ – The Tequila Slammer?” Cute Girl said.

“No,” Mofussil Girl said.

“It is the best way to drink Tequila. Look, I will show you how it is done,” Cute Girl said.

Cute Girl put some salt on her palm, licked it off, downed the neat tequila shot in one gulp down her throat, picked up a wedge of lime and pressed it between her teeth, biting hard into it.

“See – that is how you do a Los Tres Cuates – now you do it,” Cute Girl said.

 

Mofussil Girl sprinkled some salt on her left palm and picked up a tequila shot from the bar with her right hand.

 

“Be careful,” a voice said, “It’s her first time.”

 

“Oh, come on, Killjoy. She’s a tough girl. She’ll drink all of us under the table,” Cute Girl said.

 

It was now or never. 

Mofussil Girl knew that once she proved her capacity to drink she would gain real respect and acceptance in this crowd and she would truly be one of them. 

She downed the shot in one go. 

As soon the tequila shot hit the pit of her stomach, a rash of gooseflesh raced up from her insides, tremors reverberated through her body up the back of her neck resonating into her brain and she felt her as if her brain might explode – like a terrible black orgasm.

And then she felt a high – a high like she had never felt before.

 

Everyone cheered Mofussil Girl.

Then a voice said, “Let’s drink to that,” and they all had a few shots of Tequila – in quick succession – one after another – one after another – shot after shot – till they were swinging high.

 

“Let’s hit the dance floor,” someone shouted, and propelled by unseen hands Mofussil Girl was in their midst swinging away on the dance floor to the rocking music. 

The atmosphere in the disco was electric, fantastic, like she had seen in the movies. 

Mofussil Girl felt wonderful, mesmerized, and with her inhibitions dissolved in the alcohol inside her, she let her hair down and danced so unabashedly and vigorously that soon she lost herself in the ultimate state of frenzied ecstasy she had never felt before. 

This was the hep, hot and happening way to celebrate New Year’s Eve – not sitting with a pizza and ice cream watching the boring New Year’s Eve programme on TV like she had done for the past few years and like her roommate was doing right now.

 

Mofussil Girl danced continuously without break. 

The dance-floor was packed with bodies, rubbing against each other. 

Suddenly, the lights went off and it was pitch dark. 

The DJ announced, “Ten seconds left for the New Year.” 

And then he began counting: “10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1” and suddenly all the lights came on and everyone seemed to have gone berserk. 

Hooters, whistles, horns, drums, shouts – all had raised the noise level to a din. 

Total strangers hugged and kissed Mofussil Girl wishing her a Happy New Year. 

The reverberating music, the wildly passionate crowd, the dancing strobe lights, the intense smoke, the fantastic cacophony, her sheer excitement and the intoxicating alcohol inside her – it made Moffusil Girl’s head swim so much that she negotiated her way and swayed across to the nearest sofa and slumped down on it.

 

Moffusil Girl tried to focus on the dancing couples. 

Everything was a bit hazy. 

Moffusil Girl’s head began to swim even more and she felt thirsty and reached out for the glass of water across the table. 

As she stretched across the table she swayed and rolled back uncontrollably into her chair. 

Her stomach seemed to be full of mercury, ice-cold and enormously heavy. 

Her face felt hot and beads of perspiration began to appear on her forehead. 

She pushed herself forward again, trying to reach the glass, and knocked it across the table. 

Her brain began to fade, and she leaned her elbows helplessly on the glass edge of the table and felt her head fall on her wrists.

 

“You’re okay?” Cute Girl asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Mofussil Girl said.

 

“Come,” Cute Girl said holding out her hand, “Let’s get some fresh air.”

 

Mofussil Girl took Cute Girl’s hand and followed her like a zombie into the dark. 

Outside it was cold, and in her drunken haze Moffusil Girl could barely sense the maze of hands groping her, supporting her unsteady body and propelling her towards the car park.

 

Mofussil Girl felt there were two persons within her as result of the baleful double personality that comes into being through drunkenness – the first acted as if without any brain at all, in a mechanical, vacant manner – and the second observed the first quite lucidly, but seemed entirely powerless to do anything.

 

“Shove her in the backseat,” a male voice said.

 

“And you come in front,” the man in the driver’s seat said to Cute Girl.

 

The car drove off into the darkness.

Hearing a shuffling noise on the rear seat, the driver asked, “Hey, what are you guys up to?”

 

“Giving her a drink,” a male voice said.

 

“Be careful, she’s already had too much to drink,” Cute Girl said.

 

“Just priming her up!”

 

“It may be her first time.”

 

“Really? Then she’ll need more priming. I’ll give her one more swig.” 

And then the man roughly forced the bottle into Moffusil Girl’s mouth.

 

“Shall we do it here?”

 

“No. Not in the car. We’ll go to our usual place.”

 

“Shit! Bloody Shit!”

 

“What happened?”

 

“She’s puking.”

 

“What?”

 

“She is filthy drunk! She is vomiting all over me. Stop the car before the whole place is covered in puke.”

 

They stopped the car.

 

“She’s badly sick,” Cute Girl said, “It was her first time and she’d had too many shots. I told you not to force booze down her throat.”

 

“What do we do?”

 

“Let’s clean her up and go ahead.”

 

“Shit! She’s still puking. She is vomiting all over the place. It’s bloody nauseating. I have lost it.”

 

“Disgusting! Let’s dump her here.”

 

“Here? No. Let’s drop her back,” Cute Girl said.

 

“Drop her back? Are you crazy? And ruin our New Year’s fun?”

 

“We’ll get into trouble.”

 

“She’s so drunk that she won’t remember a thing when she wakes up in the morning.”

 

So they dumped Mofussil Girl in a desolate spot and drove away to enjoy the New Year. 

 

Wallowing in her stinking vomit and shivering uncomfortably, Mofussil Girl stared vacantly into the dark sky, never so frightened, never so alone. 

She wanted to cry – but tears refused to well in her eyes and her throat felt dry. 

Her recollections and images of the terrible night were just vivid flashes in a void. 

Her head throbbed with pain and her body ached as she retched again and again – puking again and again – till there was no vomit left inside her. 

Feeling totally shattered and enveloped by unimaginable agony she lapsed into a zombie-like state of suspended vacuum. 

The urbanization of Mofussil Girl was complete.

 

And at exactly the same moment, Moffusil Girl’s roommate was drifting off to sleep tucked in her comfortable warm bed, after watching the boring New Year’s Eve Programme on TV.

Moffusil Girl’s roommate was full of envy as she imagined her friend Mofussil Girl having a great time at the New Year’s Eve Party.

She wished she had accompanied Mofussil Girl to the grand New Year’s Eve Bash. 

Wondering with envy how Moffusil Girl was enjoying her New Year Party, the curious roommate dialled Moffusil Girl’s cell phone number to wish her a Happy New Year. 

The mobile phone kept ringing in Moffusil Girl’s puke-drenched purse.

But Mofussil Girl did not answer the phone.

Mofussil Girl did not answer the mobile phone because she was in a drunken stupor, totally inebriated, dead drunk, passed out stone-cold, in a state of unconsciousness, oblivious to her surroundings.

So – Moffusil Girl’s roommate sent Mofussil Girl an SMS: “Happy New Year”.

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

     

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

 

This is a revised version of a story WANNABE GIRL LIBERATED WOMAN written by me Vikram Karve more than 10 years ago in the year 2006 and posted online by me a number of times in my various blogs including at urls: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2010/10/wannabe-girl-liberated-woman.html  and  http://creative.sulekha.com/wannabe-girl_68833_blog  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2014/12/happy-new-year.html and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/12/wannabe-girl.html etc