www.telugubhakti.com The Hand

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Dear Hemantha Kumar,

 

Love and Love alone.....

 

You are not at all wrong, and not only that, you are absolutely right. I

firmly believe in that. But, the problem is that our society, especially the

South Indian culture does not permit the " touch " , especially between opposite

sexes. Touch conveys or body languagae conveys many things, which the words

fail.

 

Love and Love alone...

 

P. Gopi Krishna

 

Hemantha Kumar <andhraputhra wrote:

I might be wrong and not remembering right. But recently as I remember to

have read that when interviewed, the director of the movie " Black " or is it

" Sparsh " who said that people nowadays are not having the " touch " when they are

interacting. He meant the real physicl touch by the hand.

 

After reading that I pondered and I indeed could not recall many people

touching each other while communicating at least by and large. And what a

difference an affectionate touch could make. It would convey such warmth and

caring.

 

No wonder the boy drew the hand. Touch is important in our lives.

 

Thanks and best wishes too

Hemantha Kumar Pamarthy

 

Paritala Gopi Krishna <p_gopi_krishna wrote:

Posted by: " Ganesh *** " Kriyababa1 kriyababa

Thu Nov 22, 2007 5:46 am (PST)

 

*T H E H A N D

 

Thanksgiving Day was near. The first grade teacher gave her class a

fun assignment -- to draw a picture of something for which they were

thankful.

 

<snip>

Douglas made a different kind of picture.

<snip>

Yes, his picture was different. When asked to draw a picture of

something for which he was thankful, he drew a hand. Nothing else.

Just an empty hand.

 

His abstract image captured the imagination of his peers. Whose hand

could it be? One child guessed it was the hand of a farmer, because

farmers raise turkeys. Another suggested a police officer, because

the police protect and care for people. Still others guessed it was

the hand of God, for God feeds us. And so the discussion went --

until the teacher almost forgot the young artist himself.

 

When the children had gone on to other assignments, she paused at

Douglas' desk, bent down, and asked him whose hand it was.

 

The little boy looked away and murmured, " It's yours, teacher. "

 

She recalled the times she had taken his hand and walked with him

here or there, as she had the other students. How often had she

said, " Take my hand, Douglas, we'll go outside. " Or, " Let me show

you how to hold your pencil. " Or, " Let's do this together. " Douglas

was most thankful for his teacher's hand.

 

Brushing aside a tear, she went on with her work.

<snip>

 

 

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