Mirrors.

A little bit of this, a little bit of that, a little bit of other things.

~a picture worth a thousand words.

Vintage Winds.

So, with the year's ending in a bash. Had an elite sunday at the Vintage car rally, celebrated the authenticity, originality and class. Words are just not enough.

Elves and something magical.

With the Christmas spirit in the air, one can’t help but feel the festivities and the chills. It’s my favorite time of the year, and so probably the reason I’m spending so much time thinking, planning and browsing over Christmas plans. And to be amidst the fogged up screens and whistling winds, Christmas couldn’t get better.

The dreamy season of December brings along with it a whirlwind of wishes, hopes, sharing, ideas, greetings and transports of delight. So, I did something different for my blog this time. I went around asking everyone what it meant to them. Once I asked them “what does Christmas mean to you”, it’s like I set something entirely new in motion. The responses I got varied from electrification to peevish moods. Sitting here on my office desk, I hope to have stirred up something in every mind somewhere.. even if it’s through a simple WhatsApp message. Christmas tends to have that effect on people maybe, or maybe it’s just the nip in the air, or is it the festive mood, or maybe the spirits.

So, the first response I got, read, and I will quote, “Cold winter outside, warm feeling inside, peaceful and warm time with loved ones.. nothing too loud. And oh yeah happiness. Festive feeling. Sharing it with people close to me.” That was the first. Trigger something in you?

What more, it’s about gifts, decorations and the shade red. Alongside, it’s about believing in a myth/a legend that there’s someone out there who’s selflessly giving you every Christmas, a world of red without asking for anything in return.

That’s just how Christmas is. Putting life into the palest of things, sprinkling magic and sparkle all around.

I got rejoinders and elliptic from a simple ‘nothing at all’ to ‘exams’ to ‘party’ to ‘carols’ to a ‘holiday’. Even the simple idea of cake and coffee is celebration. Oh! And how can I skip the mention of Newton’s birthday to me. Sanchit says for him it’s partying on the eve, decorating a tree at home, not to miss gobbling up the yumm cakes and later spend a bit of time with the family, and then asks me why I ask. Answering him, it’s important for me. To know what it is to you. To see what will get you enthralled about it, what will set the fire on. To share that feeling. To scream it out to the world.. that happiness, that joy, the excitement. To make you a part of it, and let myself be a small little part of yours in turn.

Since it’s too much to type and words may not get his expression of excitement right, I got a whole new outlook on Christmas. So, the phone rings in the office to explain me what Christmas is. To start with, it’s red, it's decorations, it’s going to the Cathedral at midnight taking all the magic in. To set in to the mood, its jiving and waltzing through the dance floor and giving way to igniting fires.

For everything its worth, what’s Christmas to you? 5 days from here, what and where do you see yourself.. Carnivals, pianos, snowflakes, gifts, stockings.. get your attention caught.

So, what it means to me. What my favourite holiday, my most loved time of the year mean to me. I don’t know if words will justify the feelings, but here I am making one shot to let you peek in.

~December is that month of mixed bag of feelings and emotions. The holidays send your emotions in several directions. That tango of mind and emotions starts its beat just as soon as the December nip takes over. All those tugs and heart-strings normalize up, down and ricochet sideways. Memories are all on emotional tips and trigger familiar scents of magic. Christmas is a time of nose-talgia. Think of peppermint and pine. Think of cookies and cream and cakes, of dough, hot chocolate on the stove and wine in the closet. Of smells of wood smoke through homes, offices, restaurants, bakeries, everywhere.

Think of the omniscient flavor of music. Diluting our thinking minds, targets the heart directly. Traditions are an instigator of a wave of emotions. And they’re more than comforting, be it the memories of pleasurable traditions or the bittersweet. The snore memories are threads of traditions formed over a lifetime so precious, it’s a sense of history and connection. *stirs a cornucopia of feelings*

Be a part of it. The Christmas tree. The jingling stars and goofed up decorations. The angel. The bells. Oh! The mistletoe. The wreath. Indulge in. Dance a bit- Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen- sing along the red nosed Rudolf.

The entire approach of Christmas fills me up with expectations. It’s like riding up on a roller-coaster with a giant hill of anticipation. And when the celebrations begin, you fly through. It’s almost the end of the year, so remind yourself of life being perfect as it is.  (it loves you back)

So what’s in my jar of Christmas this year, is the scent of eggnog whisked well with the dough in the oven and the bayberry candles lit up. And since I’m a person of traditions, my Santy has for me a stocking full of Christmas classics. To top my cake with a cherry, my cup of hot chocolate awaits the grasp of my frozen hands.  The Christmas lights and the walk down to the Cathedral just isn’t long enough.

So telme, what are you up for this season, this Christmas? Get yourself in the Christmas spirit. Turn on some “Christmassy” music, make a batch of Christmas cookies, hang up those Christmas ornaments, learn a song; get out of the house.

Get a gift, it doesn’t matter to who.
Be young again. Get in touch with that wondrous feeling called Christmas.

“Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before! What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!”

-Dr. Seuss

Transitions.

-Creating magic.

It’s that time of the year when you can’t help but fall in love. The dewdrops on tips of leaflets, the twinkling stars in the moonlight lighting up a face.. the sun playing hide ‘n seek amongst the clouds, or the spattering raindrops against your windowpane; preparing you for the mystical dance. Try how much as you may, you can’t resist that repressed smile at the corner of your lips.

Summoning the beautiful thoughts swirling around my head, that surreal dream of the crescent moon upon a cliff with the floating cocoons in a tidal space, that magic is happening. And it’s happening now. Fresh footprints, leading you out of this world and into the colourful one of wondrous and fragile hearts. A place of secrets, it’s all yours to paint, in everything and anything your heart desires, answers in silence.

Looking into the depth of my eyes, yours is that one tale I wanted the honor to imprint into words. I remember talking to you a couple of nights ago, coming up with ideas to write the tale of the journey through time. The version and the brass tracks.

~Listening, seeing, knowing, absorbing..i see how far you both have come. From the birthday wishes to the wedding trial sessions. It’s that one thing I choose to let me reach out and elope to a universe as yours. So, rewinding each bit of my memoir of you, (I regard you both as one, so the ‘you’) I recall finding the post on facebook to have been replied to. That was a first.

So, of what I know, about couple of years back, at a college camp during one of the birthdays she actually did get caught off guard, was when they actually met. Only to fall in love at that glance. And that’s where their story began. All those years of ‘lookachupi’ and years apart, he finally asked her that long overdue question. And there’s no looking back ever since. I’ve seen them grow, teach, love, care and learn from each other-with each other. It’s their surety and clarity about one another and the bond they share that leaves a person spellbound and feeling blessed being a small part of their story. Sitting here, these words come flowing out thinking of them. Perfect is all I can really say. And I wouldn’t call them words, but thoughts and this is the easiest way to tie such knots.

A skipped heartbeat, they’re binding their stories together in a matter of days. We all are trying to learn our parts and revise, putting all the lines right, not to miss a chance to say words at that right time.. To stand by those who’ve sparkled into everyone’s lives. ‘Love: in those special moments spent together; those laughs and giggles shared; those secrets kept even today and promises kept in the heart. That day, can’t wait to see the dawn and sun shining in your eyes (glistening with fierce pride and courage- rising to only shine.)’

I can’t promise you much, but for the love I have for them, for the least I can do, I give my word to them to not let the thoughts waver or words fade.

Loads of love.

Aspectabund.

So, been a while here. And can’t say how soon life changes and colours itself so soon. First things first, it’s an erratic world of deadlines and work force. That should hopefully justify disappearance. Also, did I mention the fact that I bunked the only job I had and flew over 12 cities to be where I am. And I gotta say, not bad at all. That was over 3 months back now.

So what have I been up to all these past couple of months? I travelled for one. Explored the city of Nawaabs. And this time a trip down with a paper and pen for the notes and thoughts to flow. Met some interesting awesome minds. Checked out the Comic Con and lived the life of comic for the duration. Besides all of this, dissolved nights in dragon-berries with the lit stricken deadman on the couch. And if I didn’t say it, this is all me at work. Sounds perfect, doesn’t it.

I’ve been struggling with this entry for so insanely long. Mostly trying to arrange my thoughts and figure out my twisted head spinning bazillion stories. Thinking, if it was the halt at the airport watching that old couple holding hands gazing at the sunset, or the night stay with Megh catching up after a year over the desserts amongst other things, or was it the endless stories in the trains of people coming in and out, worth writing about.  I realized, that one thing that became a constant in my life was this blog, even it wasn’t regular. It makes a difference when I’m told it’s high time I get down to writing. It’s funny, I figured how I tend to write only when my head’s not on my shoulder. That space of mental blocks and conventions, so this life constant had to come through unregulated in admiration of the chaos.

~Isn’t it funny how day by day, nothing changes..yet, when you look back, nothing is ever the same.

I was recently told it’s alright to fall back once in a while. So, about a couple of days back, I connected with this really old friend from about a decade ago. I talk too much, I inferred right away. So the night before I was to meet this friend, I panicked. Enters, to kick my ass, my partner in crime, the alter-ego and sends me out anyway. Dude, Sakshi, did I ever thank you #iykwim.

Well, that night did end. And when the sun came up the next morning, the night didn’t (I realized) dissolve. To add to my favourite commotion presently, Diwali and birthdays hit an all new high. Bucket lists were struck off, new ones were made. Riding on tides, “hey stranger.. just another day”, and you know what I mean. Paradisiacal dance, candles twirling and temptation.

“Once upon a time is really here and now.”

-AngiandSilas.

Paperboats.

High above the ground, sitting by the glass window watching the rain splatter.. footsteps on the concrete with the voices in the street; I guess I hear every sound on the ground. Even street lights dancing in the moonlight, across the park, I know of glitter in the dark. From the window view, I can see the colors turn blue, painting pictures as fresh as the water clear. Days have passed, in the silence, the murmur, the whispering of the birds; waiting, patiently and eagerly, for the hue to break. The footsteps on the city ground now grow old and wear out, eventually, and fade away.

Ask me to define magic to you and I’ll tell you about the ferocious waves rising and elegantly receding back. Ask me about colors and I’ll walk you where the rainbow meets the pot of gold. Ask me to describe emotions and I’ll show you the storm, thundering sky and the sunlight trying to break through. Talk to me about going, we can swim to the ocean-bed where everything torn apart steps boundaries.

~'to see the world in a grain of sand,

and heaven in a wildflower,

hold infinity in the palm of your hand

and eternity in an hour.'

William Blake.

Nearby a river with a boat afloat, alone wavering in the splashes of the waves, he sees the stones on the riverbed closing in. Down as he sways, slowly disappears into the mist.

limits

locked chains; and
closed windows
breathing through a muzzle,
tired, worn out.
Time- lasting for more than it should.
       - prevailing longer i would.
Striking thunders impossible to bear;
shattered glasses wrapped in the desolate wounds.
       ~Loud cries- telling me to go.
Breaching- the unmistakable bullets;
quivering footsteps- the song repeats itself;
taken away, by tears of a pristine heart
bound, by eyes shimmering in the dark.

Message in a bottle

'A tear cometh to the eye,

A lone cry

To the lip;

I know the dream you seek.

In memory.. of precious times

Nostalgia: is a powerful trip.'

-Nikita Das

~Sharing everything, each small little event in a day had become such an important part of my day, my life, that now with it dwindled, the directions are a little tough to figure. Stare at the blank piece of paper for over a couple of hours in hope to spill thoughts, feelings; for something to trigger it all off. And all is given up, it begins to pour out of nowhere. The clouds broke off to let the moon shine bright in the sky.

We usually think we have our entire lives to share all that’s been missing, not realizing what’s there waiting for us right at the next turn. Every end of a great chapter is the start of a new book. You think of some things as unimportant, that could be said tomorrow, be shared tomorrow.. but more often than not, it’s the tomorrow we all await that find us off guard, unaware, unprepared of the cataclysmic disasters.

Monsoon's first rains. Worli Sea face. Lands end. Acrid yet subdued and subtle winds and waves. The Victoria. And a cup of hot chocolate.

Mumbai is one of those cities where you know no one stops no matter what. Come hell or high. Driven by the enthusiasm, forbearance and watchfulness of the people, this city is one of the most vivacious I’ve ever come across. Amazing how when people decide and choose to walk hand in hand, what an indestructible wall it creates. A smile across each face is a trait Mumbai inhabits. The locals, the buses, autos and cars..everything in perfect sync with the other. It’ll never judge you, the city, or the people; at every corner you can be certain to find a smiling face striking a conversation. The sea just adds more to its eminence and charm. Personal love, was to spend my time at the Bandstand between the land and the sea, watching the sunset, the sky change colours..from pink to orange to blue to black..for the night sky to set in and the city lights to add to the glitterati of it all. It’s really scintillating to just be there and watch the change of the pastel shades of the sky..to hear the mellow waves splashing at the rocks. I wished for you to be a part of it someday. The thing is, I could rant about this city for as long as anyone can imagine; but instead of doing that, I hoped to steal you and show it all to you. Even though you’ve seen it. Even though you know it all. Still. No matter what i say, it’ll always be less to express its grandeur. (i wish..)

So, this is about one of those days when things didn’t really turn out as planned. Not that they usually do around me, anyhow, sometimes unpredictable is all you have to be. So i set sail into the city. It was always welcoming. I had to do something i hadn’t done as yet. I couldn’t leave any stone unturned..i never do. So there I reached my first stop for the night. Worli sea face they call it. A deep orange shade of the sky and the cacophonous waves made a perfect compatible partner. I wonder if it would have been the same if the rambling of the clouds didn’t spark up the moment and light up my eyes. I eagerly awaited the first showers of the season. Also, it’d be my first rain in the city. And I wanted the world to convoy me in the joy it would bring to me. So, soon enough I was at Mumbai’s very favourite Marine drive. My heart couldn’t contain with the joy I felt. The lights that outlined the city looked more than just simply dazzling. The subtle raindrops tapped on my window, played on my face. I was in love with it. The sea splattering against the walls, the waves soaring so high that they seemed to merge with the rain, had me spellbound. Yiruma (river flows) played in the background. I could see the city lights shimmering on one side of me and the other I saw the rough, dark untameable waters.

Since obviously I have my inquisitiveness on a roll, I had to go for the ever so famous Victoria ride. Not soon after we were seated, did the rain build up and began to pour cats and dogs. I was gone from the drives of the marines for a good half an hour. Came back absolutely drenched and soaking wet, and the biggest smile of content. Sneezing, dripping and shivering, approached the Oberois’ Palms to fetch myself a hot cup of hot chocolate. And till date, I can give my word for their hot chocolate to be unparalleled, unrivalled. That night, we dried ourself up under the dryer in the washroom. Felt silly, but then who had the time for take note of it all. But I was pretty tired with my achievements tonight. So, at the break of dawn, decided to find my way back home. Though there was one last place to go to. Near home was Mumbai’s lands end. Obviously after a pretty enthralling day, so to calm down, to gather up the events so I could cherish them for a long time to come, I wanted to just spend a few minutes up there. And you know, a cup of aamchi Mumbai’s cutting chai can be quite a zealous ally. And the sight of the sunrise completed my perfect memory.

It’s fascinating how the simplest things are the ones we cherish the most. How understated and unpretentious it all is, yet, this very simplicity is deceptive to all, even the most experienced eye.

I always wanted to share the story of this night. To show how happiness finds its ways in the most unexpected ways. It’s overrated, this life. It’s as naive as you are.

Vagabond

My head spins a million stories. Each day. Every hour. All random moments passing by. Honestly, it’s tough not to when you’ve grown up listening and reading them.

So, twenty-one genres of stories; seven types of plot lines and four structures. Born in Delhi and brought up in a multitude of cities, places and faces, I could spend years warming up to the idea of settling down.

It’s about the journey, not about the destination. And I happened to accept and follow this with all my heart and soul. Though there are parts and phases of the journey that I may have forgotten, left behind or have decided to overlook, probably because of myriad reasons. As a child, I remember how mum dad would always remind us of the pending essay to be written on our way back from a trip or an outing. Lost count of the pending blank pages of my notebook. Having a map on the inside of my closet and marking every city visited made me fall head over heels in love with travelling. Checking that list of things to be packed, the insomnia with excitement of the journey, the butterflies in my belly at the time of departure, and to know that this is just the start. Well, that’s my favourite part of an adventure. The beginning. The start of the journey. That feeling that I can take on the world if need be. That sweet smell of independence. Adding yourself to your own hall of fame.

I’m 21 years old. In these few years of my life, I have managed to conquer 38 cities that I can count off from the top of my head. It’s no big accomplishment or attainment, but I come from these 38 cities, these 38 destinations, the hours of venturing through them, the bazillion minutes spent recollecting memories from these destinations. I’ve met some wonderful people through this time. It’s something I find myself passionate towards, meeting new cities, new lanes, new homes, new people. Cultures, languages, beliefs, religions. Truth, lies, dejection, honesty, purity, love, hate.  Places, names, faces. I don’t travel to run away, be it from my home, from my people, but to come back to them and know why I am where I am.

So what’s your story. Adventure. Mystery. Saga. Romantic. Slice of life. Faction. Speculative. Or even urban. Would you travel the world to find yourself. Would you hide yourself in a shell to remain an enigma.  Or would you live life and love. Would you be a part of the nature of reality, or maybe even be an answer to sorts of questions. What length would you travel to, to know.

“Traveling is a brutality.

It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. You are constantly off balance.

Nothing is yours except the essential things –air, sleep, dreams, the sea, the sky – all things tending towards the eternal or what we imagine of it.”

- Cesare Pavese

Fluorescence

So, well, putting thoughts into words has never been an easy task. Especially every time you touch the pencil to paper there’s an ocean of thoughts flowing through. Definite case of overwhelmed mind and heart.

This has taken a long time coming. It was about half a year back that writing pulled me in and Green Life gave me my most awaited break. Overwhelmed, the person I am, couldn’t put my feet on the ground. My editor, my mentor and the lady I look upto seeded the idea of a blog in my head. I have spent months ever since thinking of an apt name, the ideal articles, the designs, pictures and what not..thinking of what should be written that would be appreciated. Into picture, enters my best friend. As I was told, “sometimes, it’s alright to pick things from the top of your head.” Well, here I am.  This was long back when I was a blink away from creating this blog and then other things amongst college caught my attention. Recently, I made a new friend, gem of a person really. She wrote me a feedback to one of my first published articles and kicked me to take up blogging and this time actually do it. Encouragement does find its way through.

 ~Cut Thrusday, April 25,2013.

Today, I’m sitting here trying super-hard preparing for my last ever exam (for a while atleast) and all I can think about is filling up the blank sheets of paper with thoughts. Overwhleming.  My college is ending tomorrow. I honestly don’t know how I feel about it. The most crucial years in a person’s life, the learning, the fun, the madness, the chaos; it’s pretty much right for people to put it as an end of an era. Times of common bonding, and secrets kept and of battles together fought; the unfulfilled, unusual duty of friendship neither aimed for nor deserved. A place where we grew together, learnt together but most of all learned from each other. I came here so unacquainted to the city, the people and what was in store for me. I came with dreams and hopes for a ride worth the while. And when I think back to it, the four years of life, the most important ones, the most exciting ones, its been all worth it. Every bit of it. Think of love, friendship, indifference, arguments, fights, heartbreak; every high and low of emotions been experienced and felt at full throttle.

Anyhoo, diverting to the subject in priority to be, artificial intelligence and it’s like red mango-pink orange-yellow watermelon.

Back to present day.

Ah, the bliss and satisfaction of winding up the last paper of your engineering. Unparalleled. The feeling of ecstasy, frolic, jubilance and cheer, along with that sense of achievement, it’s as though you can take on the world. This being the last day at college, I wanted to make sure I took in everything that made my years. Starting from my hideout, to each familiar face, to the walls of the classrooms (the red brick walls), to twirling slippery staircases and to the boy in my socks. I took one good last look and absorbed it all. And then, I did something I have wanted to do since a long time; I ran towards the gate and out of it, without as much as a glance behind.

Sitting here today in my balcony, I wonder the answers to a lot of questions swimming around in my head. About taking the road less travelled or making the conventional calls. Whether following dreams and passions or the facts of existence. Gumption vs naivety. I also wonder if I’m the only one in this fix. I calm myself down, ‘everything in life is figured out except how to live it’.

“Before me is infinite power.

Before me is endless possibility.

Around me is boundless opportunity.

Why should I fear?”