Sunday, 29 December 2013
Friday, 20 December 2013
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.
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
Saturday, 9 November 2013
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.
Monday, 4 November 2013
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.
Wednesday, 24 July 2013
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.
Friday, 31 May 2013
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.
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.
Thursday, 16 May 2013
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.
Thursday, 9 May 2013
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
Friday, 26 April 2013
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?”
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