Getting drenched in the multiple shades, I hope to keep all of them bottled and spread out on the canvas to bring out something so alive............

...........that my heart bounces to see and spirit cheers to recall !


Here is something for my lovely readers, few things I’ve come to develop a liking for, things I would love to plant in the nursery of my mind to blossom fresh !

The mixed fragrance of the jack-fruit being peeled and bargained over by cart-sellers even in the early hours, blended so naturally with that of the fresh Mogra flowers heaped up alongside as garalands, worn by women to mark off the day’s beginning and chosen by men to give an auspicious start to their occupations.

The sensation of this sight and odour every morning when I set out from home and take a turn at the corner of the street is a treat to my senses that spontaneously sweeps me over...... and is rather awaited now !

Next in sight comes the old man joining his hands for alms. Passing him always left me with a feeling of guilt as I walked away in the conflict of thought whether to stop or not.
Soon the feeling was overcome when I offered him ample to swipe off that guilt. Now, my mind stays puzzled to see his joined hands as soon as I witness him, whether it’s a feeling of gratitude or contentment or want, I know not !

The cool breeze by the window seat of the bus even on sunny days which are in no time overshadowed by black clouds and the welcome showers catch your sight, be it any hour of the day !

Running around to get the right bus and attempting to read the minds of dozens of people everyday rather than their lips when they converse in a language non-conversant for me, gives a pleasure of its own. Playing with my black scarf that I always like to hang around keeps me not-wet while stealing on a drop or two, I can never resist !

Those long and solitary walks on new and endless streets everyday, passing through and crossing places I always desired to, wondering, when, in what company and on what occasion I would be able to explore them……few of them being,

Rangashankara, the much acclaimed theatre at J.P.Nagar that I yearn to visit ! Just awaiting the right play to be featured and the right company to watch it, both of which I wish not to be able to resist !

Café @ Rangashankara, for once I want to sit there without the thought of the ticking clock, taste the teffee and all that it has to offer to my all-game taste-buds.

The Magazine Store @ M.G.Road, I wonder I’ll able to hop in to pick my selections and play with the Persian cats they pet !

The Tuckshop @ Whitefield, where we can barter almost anything and everything, for instance, a Tee for fish curry and rice !! It happens to broaden all possibilities of realizing our desires into reality.

The colorfully adorned windows at M.G.Road always catch my eye making me wonder if I’d be ever able to re-innovate myself with them, the streets perfectly thronged by queer youngsters especially during rains, who are out on a feast for their senses, the picteresque is a perfect miniaturization of Delhi’s Kamla Nagar !!

New Girl In The City :) :)

It was like a dream come true when I landed on the Bangalore International Airport, the sunny morning of 20th April !

Rather, it was better than a dream in many senses…….the city of my perfect imagination….!

It’s been ten days I’m here and I feel that every breeze in the air and every drop of the 4 o’clock rains seems to pour down a shower of joy and love.

They seem to silently whisper a thousand lovely messages into my mind that keep flashing in everything I do and everywhere I go.

The flutter of the leaves is like a chuckle that invites me to laugh with them and the thunder is like an urge to join their dance of glee !

The people make me feel one of them with humble acceptance and their cheer keeps my spirit high. Every place I visit, it feels, I belong there and things that surround me are like the way they are meant to be…..


P.S : Hello friends ! Thank you for encouraging me to keep posting and for all your visits and comments. Those who haven’t, please do so. :)

Also, this is the first post, wherein, I am sharing my real-time experience with you all, unlike all my imaginary creations. So, I would be highly pleased to receive your comments on the same.

Wish to keep writing further about my new encounters :)

Trinkets.........

Tiny angels fluttering their wings, Sprinkling the dust of hope and light in the dark and lonely woods.

Jingling bells chiming at the quiet altar of a temple, causing heads to turn, forcing them to wonder, whose prayer will be answered today !

Tiny bells of anklets being heard from a distance, raising a whiff of desire in hearts that listen with earie silence.

The incensed smoke rising from a recent worship, provoke curiosity as to what form they will adopt, what they will symbolise.

A chuckle often has meanings to convey far more than is apparent.

A blink of an eye serves the purpose when words are too heavy to be said.

A small pat on back or a warm little hug can assure, life is beautiful.

A jar full of colorful marbles can make a child rejoice.

The ripples sent out by a small cascade can be the icing to calm a worry.

A casual invitation to waltz with your loved can leave all grudges behind !

Tiny but thoughtful things that adorn our lives are often forgotten or overlooked when most required. Such 'Trinkets' make the journey easy-going and often more pleasant than one can aspire for !

UNDULATIONS

Relationships are like the particles of sand on a beach. They change their form and morphology with every approaching or departing wave in the sea.

The sea, which is said to have the power to engulf almost anything, and yield nothing back, is like the puppeteer, in whose hands, the strings of our relationships are firmly bound. And the fate of which depend on every movement he makes. The audience laughs when he’s cheerful and it cries when he is gloomy.

Similarly, our relations keep changing their course and ways with the incidents in life. They may crop up all of a sudden, they may last for decades without even a conscious effort, their charm may be lost despite all endeavors to sustain them and they may re-kindle when one least expects it.

We dance the dance of glee if the master Creator is so pleased and we mourn in the vanities around when He has chosen all but us as the puppets of his latest show.

We can never define our relationships as something that is constant. We may call a person our ‘best friend’ until time an tide has separated them apart so that they are hardly aware what each is living through. Not that we do not make a conscious effort to rekindle the friendship, but, the fire comes out only when there is a spark.

Another person might have been just a familiar face a few days or months back. But, in the course of time, becomes the counterpart of all that has gone past you. S/he is not only the sole witness of what you will never be able to share with anybody but is also the helping hand when you feel too feeble to lay the brick for the step you want to take ahead. S/he may hold the candle for you when you come looking for it in the dark room and may ring the bell of hope when your heart has stopped listening to it.

You wish to clutch the person’s hand forever who has eventually meant the most for you and at times the only one for you.

Still , the gambling time takes its turn and you are once again thirsty for more affection, and more attention. You direct your steps towards someone you had left way behind in the long run. You wish to make it all the same as before but the time has sped and the emotions have fled. You try to upturn the heavy-set rocks and you try to uncover all that was hid underneath. But every time you do that with a hope to find some roots intact and some leaves alive, you only get withered remains, you only get the powdered moss.

The dirty hands sometimes wonder if they should stop turning and upturning every stone. But, that is the dance the fingers dance, and that is the show the puppeteer runs !

For without show, there would be no puppets, there would be no audience. There would be no cries, there would be no smiles and hence we call this life, ‘A Life Full Of Undulations' !

A Handful Of Dreams......!!

Dreams…often we say that we should follow our dreams or rather chase them, that dreams are not those we see while sleeping but those which don’t let us sleep.

But, agreeably, they mean differently to different people…one may strive whole life to achieve his dream but may not be actually happy after achieving it, because the time span required to accomplish the dream may be long enough to change its definition and relevance in one’s life.

A student walks into a university with A Handful Of Dreams. New city, new people, new goals! He feels very timid in front of the great barriers created by this materialistic world, the unattainable boundaries and limitless heights to be soared make him tired before he can feel that he is actually flying. He starts penetrating through the small cracks and crevices, to make his way through. The competitors eye him suspiciously or rather its just his perception, an outcome of the inner fear that dwells every moment, the fear of being out competed and the fear of rejection. Still, he moves on and gathers all the courage for a small flight, small endeavors…some fruitful…some futile. But, that is the mystery and that is what tempts him, the taste of success ! One small accomplishment shapes several bigger goals.

In a span of time, he feels secure having made a place for himself, a niche of his own…where he can perform and out compete the rest. This breeds satisfaction, love and appreciation. The discovery of new ties and ties that would never last. He is so overwhelmed he hardly realizes he has left a part of his life behind. The life an ordinary man leads, the life of which one never dreams but just lives.

He is now at destiny’s call. He performs as demanded. There is no more a will, or a task he can choose or loves to perform. He has expectations to fulfill and he has standards to meet. He feels he is rushing but there is no time to stop. He feels he is being carried away but there is no way he can look back. The ties have changed their meaning, the ties that no more exist. He now reflects upon the ordinary life, pondering if it is really ordinary !

He now suffocates in the web he has created for himself. He wants to escape but is entangled in the mesh. His efforts are now mere traps that were laid by the ones who were left behind in the race. He wishes to stand out but is stuck amidst the rest.

But, he decides not to quit. He resolves to bear the heat and withstand it all the way. He silently trudges the path and comes back to his nest. The wings are now tired and it pains to flutter them. His ambitions are fulfilled but his desires are injured.

Days go by and so do months. He is no more at a receiving end, neither praise nor complains. He walks by when he comes across and so does the inner voice. But the season has changed and he doesn’t sense it. There is balm in the air and he is yet to receive it.

He once again comes back to the same place, the same people, who, are now loaded with warmth and the healing touch. There is embracement and unsaid reverence that makes him feel at ease. He is showered with blossoms, and is happy once again. The sense of accomplishment returns as he leaves and he is again ready to strive for A Handful Of Dreams…….!!

Keep aspiring and you will attain it !!