Thursday, October 6, 2016

On a trail of novel beginnings...

A youngster smitten by the splendor of nature’s bounty, sky piercing mighty mountains, crazy photographers, a resolve to reach and kiss the pure water laden cloud at the top, and perseverance of a newbie who just refused to give up…

We spice up the story with…compassion, m├ętier, resolve, friendships, having our meals sitting in the lap of mother earth, from her immense cooking pots directly to our taste buds, a sky full of thousand times the number of stars any of we city kids had ever seen and a creepy red viper snake…And what we get, is perfect foretelling of the story “Kudremukha” - The Horse Headed Hill…

And so we 6 started on a beautiful trekking adventure, roughly 6 hours away from the jostling city of Bengaluru, in a Toyota Innova at the dead of the Bengaluru city Friday party night...And off we went, through the beautiful highways, followed by swirling and stomach turning roads of the Ghats section and finally followed by a Jeep ride through the most difficult swampy road till our homestay (Mahindra, Take a Bow!!!)..

And thus commencing the trek… 18.4 miles… scorching sunny, then shady, and then rainy, uphill and downhill, sweaty, then breezy, stony, then muddy… quenching our thirst directly from the sweetest and purest spring waters, taking our strength from the mesmerizing views of the fog laden hills and running our way through the damp trails from leech attack!!!

Nobody trips over mountains…It is the small pebble that causes you to stumble…Pass all the pebbles in your path and you will find, you have crossed the mountain…

And so we crossed it, only to revive our strength with yummazing food and star studded new moon’s night sky, complete with millions of twinkling stars, clear and complete with all astronomical patterns, to be forever imprinted on our memories… 

After local sightseeing next day from the water-falls and dams and feeling blessed at various famous temples of the region, as we were nearing our city life, we found ourselves not quite ready to believe that it’s over… 

But then the best realization was still yet to come… 
“We crossed the mountains of apprehensions, bathed in the pool of waters shimmering with novel beginnings…” And it’s surely an end of one story, but a beginning of MANY… 
  

Perfect Planning, Management, Modesty, Kannada Translations and Enthusiasm credits: Vijaya Srikara
Perseverance, resolve, determination and exemplary sportiness of a first time trekker credits: Nikita Jain 
Display of friendship, compassion and selfless support to the group and true true awesomeness credits: Sushant Vernekar 
Route guidance, bypassed Chickmagaluru sightseeing, creepy survival story of red viper snake attack, persistence of trekking barefoot and management support credits: Vinay Shivanna
Perfect Photography even without a professional camera, identification of red viper snake and willpower credits: Sai Chaitanya
And finally, Memories Preservation Credits: Shivani Shastri


P.S. I wrote another blog with same title, back in Pune...
So these are called phases for a reasons, they repeat themselves... 


Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Inspections – Retros and Intros…




You know that thing which used to be your top-secret…that thing you claimed no one knows about you but you…That thing which made you believe that you were unique…that feeling that was not on display for the whole wide world to see and comment on…that ultimate sheath that protected you from judgements…that layer of makeup that always worked to make you look Oh-so-lovely in parties…that mask that used to hide your pimples…

It was the secrets of your personality…Scarlet, Blue, Golden and Black… all hues…

Fortunately or unfortunately, the secret is out...the mask is slipped…the make-up washed away with heavy rains… 

How???

So, you posted a misogyny/misandry statement on fb.
(You must have gone through a shitty breakup/divorce)

You post lovey-dovey pictures with your partner too often.
(Uncomfortable Public display of affection)

You post your own picture too often…
(psycho-ego-centric behavior)

You post pictures from your recent vacation. (Note: Nobody cries with regular worries when camera is clicking)
(You are the happiest person in the world with absolutely no worries. You are enjoying your life to the fullest and posting pictures is your desperate attempt of getting people jealous of your awesomeness.)

You share your political views.
(You are trying to influence others. Or even if you are not, you are definitely igniting unnecessary debate. Why dude Why???)

You share jokes/cartoons/good morning/good night messages.
(You have absofuckinglutely no work)

You do not use social media in any form.
(You DEFINITELY are a freaky creepy introvert!!!)

  #JustSaying #GeneralMusings
*Hashtags… Such an attention-seeker…
 **Please dont judge me! 


Thursday, April 14, 2016

Betrayal

Turning around...it's all yellow
The lush green lawn...
Just yesterday needed mowing...
Waves crashed over dreams...
Just yesterday, sun shone so bright...

With Icy cold silences
A walk hand in hand
Unapologetic
Cruel destiny
The only truth that sticks...
Destiny....
And we manage to dance
To the tunes of life's
Oh not so melodious
Songs of despair. ..

And when has life
Not betrayed...
those who believe...

Saturday, September 19, 2015

Dancing to the tunes…



 An Invention of Life,
In the memories of living,
Haunts the fears forever
And we still dance to the tunes…

Shadowy and vague,
Tomorrows untold,
Slips like handful of sand
And we still dance to the tunes…

In a city without walls
In a lake of unknown depths
Stuck Deep in a dark forest
And we still dance to the tunes…


No flowers on grave,
All sent on his b’days,
Fragrances persevered
And we are dancing to the tunes….

What he meant to us
Flowing in tears,
Memories, musics and joys,
And we are dancing to the tunes….  




Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Bhaai, Bros And The Bandhan of promising Raksha…

I grew up amid a lot of bhaai-s, first cousin bhaai-s, second cousin bhaai-s and their respective cousin bhaai-s. My mom told me that she knew roughly 50 bhaai-s I had. I myself knew some cousin in ashok vihar, someone in munirka, some other relative in greater kailash and so on, almost in every corner of NCR.
So basically I believed that Delhi, pardon me, NCR is MY PLACE, that I was safe there and that there are very high chances that if a random guy ever tries to mess with me, some random bhaai of mine will kick his ass.

For all my bhaai-s, I was a “Good Girl”. Raksha bandhan was a shopping spree of its own unique kind. I’d send rakshis and vermilion rice, wrote long letters to all my relatives, telling them mostly about my studies and classmates. And it used to rain and I used to thank God for showering his blessings on me and keeping me safe by being there for me always in the human form of so many bhaais I had.
Childhood is time of happy days of ignorance bliss.

But times change, people change. And by my experience, time always, always changes for good.

 And so I came outta the safety net of my bhaai’s protection and into the real world. Where boys were just classmates or colleagues and not brothers, friends were just friends and not brothers, even if they said they want to be more-than-friends, they most definitely dint mean they want to be brothers. You could tie a friendship band on their wrists but this species will suddenly migrate to some unknown land near mid of August. It was okay for them to make fun of you and they dint kick anyone’s ass if they tried to make fun of you either. If you give them a friendly punch, you receive a friendly punch too. If you eat out, you share the bill. If you like something for yourself when you go shopping with them, You pay the bill. You also share the autorickshaw bill. They wont judge you if you booze with them and some will offer to drop you home safely if its late. Its okay for them to sit at the back seat while you ride your activa. Its okay if they have a crush on you, you can talk about that like adults. And if they don’t, you can tell them all about the cute guy you have a crush on. They may even step in to help you. Like many single-in-the-city newly-made-confident girls of my time, who started believing they could take care of themselves, I somehow liked the latter arrangement with men better and hassle free. These men made amazing friends, much better than my other girl friends (I know almost all the girls I know, will agree).

But I don’t know how, I suddenly became “Not A Good Girl” for my “bhaais”. I don’t know by what, they felt offended, as if THEY were proved weak, now that I started taking my own decisions. I don’t know when, they decided I am not the same sister material anymore and I have no fucking clue why, they all started blaming me for “misusing my freedom”…
I was confused, they were so proud whenever I managed to get “highest marks” even in class tests, now they were blaming it all on my education. They taught me how to ride a bicycle and now they hated me for owning a vehicle of my own coz that made it convenient for me to go “anywhere anytime”. A banker cousin of mine suggested that I should take a flight to home twice a month coz “girls just do their jobs for fun and my future husband can worry about savings”. They mesmerized my imaginations by telling me endless stories of their tours across the world, but to cover 15 mins distance between Delhi Airport and home, their egos will get hurt if I took a taxi and come by myself. I can tell them my wishlist on the things I want to do in MY life, but a male member (elder or younger, doesn’t matter) should have the final say.


In parallel universe, some lucky sisters were blessed with brothers, custom made more suitable for our times, called bros. Big bros and small bros. Bros, who were their partners in crime.
Big bros were protective by default but refrained from checking their messages, whatsapp and facebook accounts. They tried to understand their sister’s outlook, gave their suggestions when required, but respected her decision anyway. With their maturity, they acted as a bridge to fill the generation gap between her and the parents and made sure she faced less of the teenage hardships he faced while dealing with the parents. But they made sure the little sister also fights her own unique battle and learn by her own mistakes. And when she came out a winner, they gave their cheerful hi-5 and said, “You Go Girl!”…
And there were small bros, who basically minded their own business. They never tried to interfere in the sisters life and pretend to be protective for her just coz they were “the man”. They were affectionate and occasionally asked for extra pocket money. They truly believed that since, the sister is elder and is more experienced, she will protect them from a situation if need be and not the other way round. They believed in her capabilities and respected her decisions. They treated her exactly the way they wud have treated an elder bro and were not swayed by anyone who told them that they are the “ghar ka ladka".

...
...
...


For a lucky few, if you had a real bro, your life must have been super easy and you would have never had to explain yourself to anyone. To all such lucky girls and their bros, Happy Rakshabandhan . You guys are blessed to enjoy this festival in its true spirit.  

For not-so-lucky others, Gals, you have come a long way. Trust me, even people who don’t approve of you, secretly wish they had the guts to be like you. So always wear your attitude, love your lovely self and rock the world like you’ve always had.


And finally to all the "bhaai’s" , Guys! life is what happens AFTER you are out of your make-believe world of fake dominance. I hope that happens for you soon…Cheers!!!


Monday, August 24, 2015

Bring it on!


Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Poetry, Prose and an Adorned Milestone...



“She fought with rhythm, rhyme and repetition,
He strictly followed the syntax,
She advocated relationships with sound
His meaning of words was a matter of fact…”

“She enjoyed manipulating grammers and truths,
He stuck to the rules of comprehensions…
She chuckled off with “seen” and “felt”
He had his own conceptions…”

“She argued that prose is all accumulation
And she knows “isolation of emotions”
But then, she tampers the truth,
And he knows his punctuations…”

Condensed, imaginative, inspired...The poetry decided she’ll always flow free…But with his ethical language command,The Prose continued to create more meaning…

And then…
In lines and verses and couplets and stanzas
Together with artistry, creativity and literature…
The Poetry and The Prose,

Expressed an idea, made a point, and reached a conclusion… 





P.S. The metaphors I struggled the most with and had the most fun with...
Photo Courtesy: Bibhav Behara and Swatee Nayak
Inspiration Courtesy: Anish Kumar. Thanks for filling my life with more meaning than I could ever dream of comprehending.