Kisan

He waited patiently every year, 
for a miracle in the form of rain. 
What came were just harsh winds and the scorching heat, 
his seeds wouldn't grow, again. 
What did he do to deserve this curse? 
His wife and children dragged into this barren hell,
their tears were running dry too,
as dry as the village well.
It will take an entire nation,
to get up and help them out,
about time we started to realise,
there are lives being lost due to the drought.
Another one drinks some poison,
his friend hangs from a tree,
have we ever thought of their plight?
When we ask for 5 apples at the price of three.
Let us remind ourselves everyday,
especially when food goes waste,
that a family struggles for your food,
somedays they forget how rice tastes.
Let us be considerate,
when we open a tap and let water run,
because there are people out there,
who died looking for water, under the burning sun

I am sorry

I am sorry,
because I don't have the body type your son and society deserve.
I am sorry I love opinions and have some of my own.
I am sorry I enjoy the company of the opposite sex even though it isn't part of my culture.
I am sorry I am studying to be something more than just a demure wife.
I am sorry I curse because it isn't what a woman is supposed to do.
I am sorry I didn't live up to your standards of beauty.
I am sorry I decided to live and explore the world on my own.
I am sorry I wear the clothes I do. I know, I am always asking for it.
I am sorry I don't fit into any mould of what a good girl is supposed to be.
I am sorry I can't cook and won't be able to take care of your son, who doesn't know how to cook either.
I am sorry that my family forced me to study, work and travel. They must be the worst.

Most of all, I am sorry for you. For assuming there is just one 'type' of woman. For feeding your son the confidence that he can look like a goat but will still get a wife who is thin, loving, faithful, quiet and submissive. I feel sorry that my parents, as confident as they are, still fear I might be alone forever because you told them so. I am sorry I don't fit in with your requirements.

Actually, I am not sorry. Because, it has taken me years to finally love myself. To realise what I want to do and who I want to be. I don't want to be a Victoria Secret model. I want to be happy and healthy and I don't need a man to approve of my ways for me to be either. I am happy eating, studying, working, reading, dancing, playing with puppies, seeing the world and learning about it.
I feel sorry for myself, that I tried so hard to please you and your needs.

But, not anymore.

So, fuck you! I am not sorry. 

Follow you

The phone moved almost to the edge of the table. 

His face was a silhouette in that fluorescent glow.

Was this love? She didn't know.

But it was fun. 

"Where are you?"His phone beeped.
He watched her move.

She was beautiful. 

"What are you doing in a motel?"

The messages didn't stop,

neither did he. 

"I am coming to pick you up. Dad is angry."

She pushed the phone off the table with one hand,

the other was holding on to him. 

It was hot! 

Not just the temperature, 

everything else too. 

The door knocked.

They banged.

The door slammed open. 

He fell off the bed,

but she wasn't done. 

Damned technology ruined everything.

They found out too soon

and he had taken too long.

Home

The lights twinkled like jewels on a princess’s hand,

She watched bright eyed as the plane hit the tarmac,

Smooth? Her heart thought otherwise!

Welcome to a new city, your new home, a new life.

What about the one I left behind? She wondered,

All the known faces and warm smiles, will they remember?

Can I call someone mine? Or are they all back home?

In the city I left behind.

Waiting for calls and getting up to messages,

Those are the things she looks forward to,

Watching families hold hands, friends laugh and lovers kiss,

She had all those things at some point too.

Don’t worry, said a voice on the phone,

Things get better, faster than you’d know.

Soon, you’ll make new memories of you own,

And this new place will start to feel like home.

Tashi Delek Bhutan!

(This piece was written for an online magazine)

Legend says that a famous Tibetan saint heard a loud thunder when he was building a monastery and the thunder sounded like the voice of a dragon preaching the Buddhist teachings. He named the monastery Druk and started a religious sect called ‘Drukpa Kagyugpa”.  This religion became the state religion and the country was named Druk Yul or the Land of the Thunder Dragon. The name Bhutan was given by the British. It is derived from the ancient word “Bhotania”, which meant “end of the land of the Bhots” (Tibet).

To the locals this place is and will always be Druk Yul. It is the land of abundance, beauty and extremely happy people. Bhutan claims to be the happiest country in the world and the reason behind this is the Gross National Happiness, a phrase coined by the 4^th Dragon King of Bhutan, His Majesty, Jigme Singye Wangchuk.  My parents and I decided to visit Bhutan and confirm firsthand what we had heard.

If you are an Indian travelling to Bhutan all you need is a passport and a love for the mountains. Indian nationals don’t need a visa to enter the country. We don’t need to pay the Royalty fee either, which is 250$ per person per night. The easiest way to get to Bhutan is by air. Druk Air, the national airlines of Bhutan, flies regularly from the international airports at Kolkata and Delhi to Paro. The aircraft is an ATR 42- 500, smaller than the usual airbus and the journey takes 1 hour 15 minutes.

Bhutan begins to surprise you the minute you land. The landing strip (yes! there is just one) is in between two mountains with a river, the Paro Chhu, flowing next to it. Paro gets its name from this river.  It is considered to be one of the World’s most challenging airports to land in and my mother sure was holding on to her seat till the plane touched the tarmac. The airport is small and for the first time in many years I got off the plane and walked straight into immigration. No aero bridges or buses carting me around.  My first whiff of Bhutanese architecture started at the airport. The building is multicoloured with wooden panels, small arches and paintings, with a sloped roof that is green in colour. There is a rule that all houses in Bhutan should follow the same style and if a person wants to build something else they need a permit to do so.

The best way to see a place is by road. Our first journey was from the airport to Thimphu, the capital city.  Bhim, a small man with a large smile (their claims were coming true) was our driver for the trip.  You can also book a taxi only till Thimphu for 700INR or 700 Ngultrums, the currency of Bhutan. The drive takes an hour and a half counting the few stops in between and is breathtakingly beautiful, with the river on one side 

and lush green mountains on the other.  We stopped at two places en route. First up the Tachogang Lhakhang Bridge, it is a suspension bridge that is made entirely out of iron chains, over the Paro Chhu. It was built by Thangtong Gyalpo in the 13^th century.  As spooky as it may seem in the beginning, conquer your fears and walk across. This is one stop you will never forget. Our second stop was at the Chuzom meaning “The confluence”. This is where the Paro Chhu and Wang Chhu (the river that flows from Thimphu) meet. The sounds of the current drown everything else out. There is a toll gate at this point and you will keep wishing the queue took longer. The rest of the drive is serene. You see mountains and more mountains along the way, peach trees growing everywhere and beautifully built houses that look the same but are still so different.

The Tachogang Lhakang suspension bridge!!! We crossed  it  

Thimphu is the most modern of all the cities in Bhutan. The main market is a long road at the city center and most hotels are located around the area. We stayed a little away from the market at Upper Motithang, because we wanted a view of the valley. Our hotel, Peaceful Resort, was a fairly priced 4 star hotel (2500INR-3500INR/ per night) with a fantastic view of the valley and a very lazy dog named Bruno.  The rooms are minimally decorated with big beds and connected balconies, ensuring you start a conversation with fellow visitors. 

Hi Brunooo :)

All shops in the market accept the Indian Rupee so don’t worry about exchanging currency after you reach. We reached during lunch and made our way to a restaurant called Tandin. The entire place is wood paneled and overlooks the Wang Chhu. The Bhutanese cuisine has a lot of options for both vegetarians and non vegetarians. Indian food is easily available but being as adventurous as possible we decided to eat some local food and were pleasantly surprised. The happiest country loves chillies and everything from their curries to salads has them in it. My favourite dish is the Kewa Datshi, a simple looking dish with potatoes, cheese and chilli that is eaten with hot rice. It is delicious and so addictive that this was all we had throughout our trip. There are different variants of it made with mushroom and chicken as well.

Kewa Datshi (With potatoes) Emma Datshi (Mushrooms) Hoegaay Salad ( chillies, capsicum and more chillies) and Rice.... A typical Bhutanese lunch.... Absolutely delicious :D

The market has hundreds of shops that sell local handicrafts. The Thimphu handicrafts emporium is a great shop that has some lovely masks at decent prices and you can bargain too! When in Bhutan, a mask, the local dress (Gho and Kira) and a prayer wheel are must buys. If you are in the capital on the weekend don’t forget to check out the Weekend Market at Norzim Lam. People from all over Bhutan come here with their wares. It is a treat to the eyes and the ears too, because the shops are kept right along the river. The treats don’t stop here. Thimphu’s places of attraction are one of a kind. Most tourists opt to take taxis on a day tour and see the entire city. They charge 1000Ngultrums per day, 1500 if you want a guide. Our guide’s name was also Bhim.

The weekend market... I could shop here forever :)

Places to visit in Thimphu: National Institute of Zorig Chusum (Thirteen Arts):  It is an arts school that provides instruction in the traditional 13 arts of Bhutan. The main subjects are painting, sculpting, embroidery and wood carving. There are courses that take 6 years to complete. It is a treat to the eyes and the soul as you watch hundreds of students carry on generations of artistic tradition forward and doing it happily. The Zorig Chusum gift shop sells all that the students make and a part of the earnings goes to the individual student. 

A student working on his Buddha drawing at the Zorig Chusum 

The National Library of Bhutan: The national library isn’t too far away from the art school.  This place has such an old world charm, it has huge windows, teak wood shelves and a lovely painting of the Buddha when you enter. Walk in to see the world’s largest book called  Bhutan: A Visual Odyssey Across the Last Himalayan, on display.

The Trashi Chhoe Dzong: The Trashi Chhoe Dzong is the main attraction of Thimphu. Dzong means fortress though nowadays it houses both civic offices and monastic bodies. The King and his cabinet of Ministers work here and so do the head Monks. This Dzong is open to the public only after office hours (5pm – 6pm) on weekdays and (8am-6pm) on Sundays. The central courtyard (Dochey) is of magnificent proportions and accommodates the locals of Thimphu during the Tsechu Festival. Tsechu meaning “day ten” is celebrated on the tenth day of the Tibetan Lunar Calendar.  Similar to the houses all over Bhutan it has wooden panels on the windows, small arches and beautiful paintings of Bhutan’s history all over the walls. You can spend an entire day here and will still not be able to do this Dzong full justice.

Motithang Takin Preserve: There are many things specific to Bhutan, like the Takin. If you haven’t seen a Takin in Bhutan, you will never see one again. This animal is an odd mix of a goat and a bison. Try getting to the preserve early morning and you might just be able to feed one. 

Weird looking Takin 

 Dochula Pass: If you want a spectacular view of the Himalayas a visit to the Dochula pass is a must. This pass is the most known and used pass in Bhutan. It goes all the way to the Punakha Valley. Before you start your drive to Dochula Pass, pray to the weather gods for clear skies so that you can see the range. We met a few visitors who didn’t see it the first time and came back the next day hoping they get lucky.  The drive to Dochula is an attraction in itself. You get to see huge Chortens (burial mounds), water prayer wheels and all kinds of flowers along the way.

At Dochula, Chortens for all the saints

Once we had taken in all that Thimphu had to offer we made our way to Paro.  There are buses from Thimphu to Paro every half hour and the ticket would cost 50-100Ngultrums depending on the bus. You have share taxis that are more common and they charge 300Ngultrums per trip.  We met the Chuzom again and sat on the banks of the Paro Chhu as we saw a plane land. Unlike Thimphu, Paro is a very relaxed town, where afternoon siestas seem longer than usual. The market place is much smaller than in Thimpu but the handicrafts and the prices are almost the same. Most visitors go to Paro to see two things, the Taktsang Monastery (Tiger’s Nest) and the Paro Dzong. Most hotels will offer a bird’s eye view of the Tiger’s Nest and a few offer a taxi to the Dzong and back.  We decided to see the Paro Dzong before we made our way to the hotel. 

The view from the Paro Dzong

Unlike the Thimphu Dzong, the Paro Dzong is run entirely by the monks and if you get there during lunch time you can hear more than 200 monks chant. Even though most Dzongs are similar in their construction the Paro Dzong is more spectacular because of the view from the lower courtyard. It is picture perfect. There is a historic museum very close to the Dzong that holds a vast collection of masks, definitely worth a visit.

The resort we were staying at was Ugyen Phendeyling Resort. A 3 star hotel (2000-3000INR per night) that offered a good view of the tiger’s nest and served a mouth watering Kewa Datshi, that still makes me salivate. 

Our last day in Bhutan ended on a high. We started our trek up the Tigers nest at the crack of dawn. The Taktsang stands on the edge of a cliff at 10,240ft. It is believed that Guru Padmasambhava flew to this spot on the back of a Tigress. The trek up takes two and a half hours, with a little stop at the cafeteria halfway, for tea. A word of advice, don’t walk up with a local, you will never match up to their speed. Even though everybody worries about climbing up it is walking down that is more difficult. The closer you get to the Tigers Nest, the more it will defy your imagination. It is an experience of a life time and was a surreal ending to our trip.

Taktsang :D

Bhutan is a land like no other. Modern yet so culturally and traditionally rooted with the happiest bunch of people and some spicy chillies. The picture perfect surroundings are the cherry on top. Till next time, Kadrin Chhe Druk! 

Wanderlust

I wonder what causes this wanderlust

Is it the smell of a place five minutes after you reach?

Or being greeted in an unknown language

Maybe it is the wafting aroma of a meal made in a different kitchen 

Could it be moving to foreign music

Or is it getting high on a local brew

How about finding the famous market

Even bargaining your way through. 

I have a feeling it is the people

Animals included too 

Do hills cause this feeling?

Or waves reaching the shore 

Is it a sunset you watch in silence 

Counting the stars? 1,2,3,4?

How about the words you learn from the locals,

Or learning new games as the children play,

Could it be the vehicles you take to commute

or fellow passengers along the way? 

Oh! I don't think I shall ever find,

what causes this crazy feeling
I have been infected now

and only travel can be my healing. 

Dilwaalon ki Dilli

I cant begin to imagine what Qutubuddin Aibak would say if he saw the present day capital. Chances are he might faint, recuperate, get duped and then learn exactly how to fall in love with a city that will grow on you.

The first day I got off at the Hazrat Nizamuuddin Railway station, with over stuffed bags and an eager heart, I knew this shehar was going to rope me in and make me fall head over heels in love with it, at least I hoped all that would happen and believe me when I say this, it did. 

There are more than a few things this city showed me and I know its going to be difficult doing justice to that but I am still giving it a shot.

• The city: For the first few months I was in complete awe of the size of the city and how it was laid out. The five unforgettable regions of Delhi had to be learnt by heart if you wanted to work the place  out. 

Central Delhi: Lutyens Delhi is the administrative area of Delhi that was designed by a British Architect names Sir Edward Lutyens. It has the Rashtrapathi Bhavan, Parliament, India Gate, Rajpath, Ashoka Road, Race Course Road etc that make it the best piece of real estate around. It is completely normal to spot the finance minister drive into his bungalow or watch traffic make way for the PM's Convoy. It also is the cleanest part of Delhi. 

South Delhi- The side where the nouveau riche decided to settle down. The typical Southy would have a gated house, at least 3 maids, will only talk in English and always have manicured nails. She will be the so called modern mother who would see her child only in between her yoga, gym and zumba class. She lives and breathes society parties and kitties.

North Delhi-  Purani Dilli, is north Delhi with places like VishwaVidyalay, Laal Quila, Jama Masjid, Civil Lines and Sadar Bazar. It is the most talked about part of Delhi and most active. From Sound and light shows at laal Quila, to cheese maggi in front of Miranda House, the galli and nukkads to reach daulat ki chaat, Friday prayers in Jama Masjid and the most famous Karims are all a part of North Delhi. There isn't a specific species to this area but most business start here, flourish here and crumble here. 

West Delhi- All the shop owners in North Delhi build sprawling bungalows in the West. Rajouri garden, Punjabi Bagh, Rajender Nagar, Patel Nagar are all places with old money and family heirlooms that have been eyed by most family members. This is where the actually DILLIWAALAH originated. From more than just a few experiences I can say, a true blue Dilliwaalah is the man who will curse at the signal, have at least 3 cars at home ( all dented), call a flat- a flat and never a home because only independent houses can be homes and will eat at the same restaurant because he is used to it. He will be the uncleji, mamuji, chachaji to more than 40 kids and will plan his Diwali parties well in advance.When you see him on the street you are most likely to make a face but when he is in the shop shouting orders to some kid 'called bittu' he will be the nicest man around.This man will make you believe you are buying the best product and if its spoilt he will say ' koi nahi ji' and change it immediately.... 

His son on the other hand, the modern Dilliwaalah, will drive his new 'Merseddis' to the shop, carry an Iphone, wear Hugo Boss, but will never ever have the knack of business like his dad had at his age. He will have a wedding that will cost more than a little village and a wife whose father would've paid for most of it. This man and his wife will wear a Gucci shirt, carry an Hermes scarf and a Prada bag but will not know where the brands are from and what they are actually famous for. Believe me when I say it , it is these people that make Delhi what it is.

East Delhi- This is the Middle Class- trying to make it big- part. Localities like Mayur Vihar, Preet Vihar, Patpargunj are all filled with people saving enough to buy the smallest available house in Rajouri Garden. They will talk of all the above mentioned brands but will buy the closest fake from Sarojini.

The one thing I forgot to mention was, where you live is a very integral part of who you are, at least for the Dilliwaalahs. 

• The Food: Chole Bature in Pahargunj, Gali Parathe waali's garma garam Parathas, Seekh Kababs at Karims, Pani Puri in Karol Bagh, Roshan di Kulfi, Milkshake at Keventers, Lemon tarts at Wengers, Masala Dosas at Swagat,  Butter Chicken at Moti Mahal, Kathi rolls in CR Park, Tandoori momos near Venkys, Anjeer Doodh at Pandara Road, Chocolate Paan at Prince Paan. PHEWW!!! If you are a foodie living in Delhi, make sure you buy some loose denims or switch to Salwars where the fat is hidden, because Delhi sure can make you eat. Every meeting, function or conversation for most Dilliwaalahs revolves around food. The first question in most houses will be ' Khaane main kya hain'. They love their food and it shows. It is the only place where a function is judged by the food served and women are chosen by their culinary skills. There will eternally be some food festival on and a restaurant somehow pops up every third day. If you hear a 'Mazza aagaya yaar' you know the place is going to be successful. 

• The Lingo: If you hear a 'haanj madamji the minute your out of home, you know you are in Delhi. The average Delhite will curse at least 3 times a day, say 'Koi Nai ji' more than 30 times and will definitely add in ' Badiya Hai and Hojaayega' whenever required. There are new words coined every day at the signals, in schools and at offices, some go on to becoming famous while the others just wilt and fade away. I have always been known for my sailors dictionary and Delhi just reaffirmed that and added a few more to it. It isn't just about the word with the common Delhiite, it is the emotion, the timing and the ability to include family members you dearly love. The outcome is always brutal but hilarious. 
• Jugaad:  Life wouldn't exist in Delhi if it weren't for this word. It means a lot of things but mostly just an innovative fix to a problem, big or small. Everything from the political system to the new piston on 'Kishan Bhaiyyas' bike is Jugaadu. It has been fixed by a smart man who knew the right people, never mind if they are shady, to get the job done. The most Jugaad is done during weddings when the tent will be held by a clothes line and the Panditji would've been rented from the colony waala Mandir. It will be the only time a chef who can sort of drive will be sent to buy last minute saaman because all the other drivers were busy bringing in the guests. This word gives you hope, makes you worry and question your surroundings. It will never let you trust completely but will also teach you how to put complete faith in a quack who thinks he can fix something for a cheaper rate. 

• Delhi Winters: Tadpaaye Tadsaayere Saari Raat Jagayere yeh Dilli Ki Sardi, I couldn't have found an apter way of explaining how Delhi winters feel. There is a world of a difference in staying in Delhi for 5 days during the winter and squealing every time fog came out of your mouth to actually living in the capital  for those 3 months of biting cold. Its fascinating to watch how the people gear up for the cold, with their woollens put out to dry, new ones bought at Janpath and Gaffar Market. When the fat Razai is taken out of the trunk and the thermals are kept ready. It is a different feeling to wake up at 630 am on a cold January morning and walk out only to have this icy cold wind slap you in the face and wish you good day. There is a sense of relief when you enter a room with a heater, thaw your hands and your face and readily agree to a hot cup of chai. The joys of eating Shakkar Ganji and Kulche's at the thela waala are like no other. But, nothing beats the process of getting dressed for the winters, the auntyji's in their shoes and long kurta sweaters, Unclejis with their checked mufflers and monkey caps, pinky strutting her boots and long coats and Bittu lighting a sutta as he chills in his sweatshirt and watches Pinky from the other side of the road. Delhi winters can become depressing and needs a lot of hard work but it is completely worth it. 

The city can make you cry and laugh at the same time. Its people will disgust you and be equally warm. There will be at least 3 cases of Delhi belly before you get used to the Khaana. The gaalis will always get more innovative and its winters always more harsh. But, if you haven't lived and loved Delhi by now, I think its time you did. 

Yeh Dilwaalon ki Dilli hai bhai, Yahaan Pyaar aur Jugaad se sab chaljaayega :D:D

Go by

Let's just rewind this fast paced life, 

back to dusty summer holidays and dry winters,

when a parent teacher meeting after the break, 

always gave you jitters. 

How about we take a walk down memory lane, 

our first day of junior college, sweaty palms and thundering heart beats, 

all that the teacher said, was lost in translation,  

wondering if you should bunk the chemistry test or atleast write 3 sheets. 

What happens in undergraduation, never stays there, 

there are stories that spread through out college, 

some you wish you were a part of,the others 

were just erased from your knowledge. 

After undergrad life became a blur, 

you kept wishing for it to slow down, but the speedometer never looked the same, 

there was work, masters and some crazy intoxicated days, 

a few times when life seemed like a fucking ridiculous game. 

Of all the things I miss the most,

it is the freedom to watch everyone else run around, 

Time really has flown, 

because I seemed to have joined that crowd too, my feet never on the ground. 

Free Fall

Have you taken that leap of faith ,
into the hands of the universe,
praying the fall is soft ,
and the bruises not too sore,
Did you jump off ,
knowing what to expect, 
or you let the mystery linger?
the sweet taste of fear, 
and that trickle of excited sweat,
telling you to hold on ,to that one last strand of hope,
questioning your decision,
and wondering if you could go back to that cliff,
stranded halfway , free falling and losing control ,
you breathe hard and say WHAT THE HELL !!
i have one shot at this,
lets start flapping hard,
or looking for Clark Kent and his cape,
giving up the fantasy,
you make the umbrella your parachute,
and land on a soft patch of grass .
out of breath and exhilarated, 
you look back at that cliff ,
and it doesn't seem that big now,
like every hard time that passed,
you just needed  that moment,
that moment to JUMP OFF :) ...

This one time :)

This one time , give me a chance

to choose what i want to do ,

leave me alone and watch me leap, 

Don't lift me up ,

just watch from the side and keep your arms open ,

if I need a hug ..I will ask,

Let me fall in love ,

with a man who makes me happy,

who doesn't protect me but  still protects,

I will find that man ..hopefully , 

This one time , i will wander in a crowd

If I am lonely .. I will walk back to where you dropped me off ,

Smile and tell you I was still lonely ,

This one time .. give me the cash ,

I will lose some, lend, borrow and owe,

there will come a time when i will earn my own ,

When i do ..I will tell you it's much harder when it's your own money,

and suddenly it dawns on me ..

I have to give myself that chance..

This one time .. it's about ME ..:)

Sounds

Shlokas from my pious neighbours house
she hums while packing lunch
it continues for a short bit
but chores take over
listen carefully, its calming.
I hear those sounds coming from the street
friendly banter and some pleasantries
listen carefully, its fun.
The auto guy loves his new speakers
I might go deaf by the end of this ride
but I listen, its loud.
The office is quiet
there are ratings to beat
but you catch a tune from a jolly coworker
listen carefully, its happy.
The day's over and I'm on my way back
some have plans, the other are impromptu
movie, some food and a smooth drink
listen carefully, its pleasing.
Back in my room
barely lit and in a mess
I fall on my bed,tired
I listen carefully, its nothing.

Obituary

A very bright sunny morning in June, 

armed with a degree, confident and beaming,

he walked in with very big dreams,

Of writing stories with spirit,

some that had  change lives, 

and others that lives had changed. 

The obituary section was where he was placed, 

he wrote about the dearly departed, the terribly missed, 

even the occasional ' his time had come',

he worked that column alone,

pasting sad faces and grieveing memories, everyday,

before it went to press.  

Was this what he had wished for? 

to build a family from writing about death,

wait each morning for a teary eyed family member,

or to watch, as hearses passed by.

40 years-3 months -12 days into the job,

his heart gave up, it stopped, right in between a memorial service column, 

walking away from it all. His family rushed to his side,

a pastor was brought in, a coffin was ordered,

and an obituary prepared. 

Suddenly, everybody wondered,

who would write his? 

Musica para el alma

After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music-Aldous Huxley

One tabla, a sitar and a man's nectar like voice, all making love to a note. The lyrics, their aphrodisiac. Silence before they start and the grand finale high. My music sense stopped at just being able to appreciate good music. Much as I would've liked, it did not budge from there to my voice box. I am not vocally challenged, and so what if I am. That hasn't stopped me from loving Elvis or singing Adele. My music palette has tasted everything from Metal to Reggae, they were just an adventurous order from the menu I think. But, we all have a favourite dish, I found mine.

To listen to Abida Parveen, Nusrath, Rahat and Bulle Shah's lyrics all wrapped beautifully with just the right amount of instrument, aaah, Peace. Its like the perfect Lasagna-Cheese,Pasta and just the amount of tomato sauce to make your existence worth it.

Sufi is my happy place. I fall back on Sufi to fall asleep after a hard days work, to stay awake as I rethink my decisions and to just sing with. It isn't just the music, its the voice, those words, the pitch blending together perfectly like the colours of the rainbow. No particular demarcation but you can point them all out.

Tiger Tails

Greedy Langurs, tall green trees and herds of Chitals giving you a cheeky look while crossing the road after looking right and left. This was just a little taste of how driving through the Mudumalai forest reserve felt.

The first thing our driver said to us was ' if you spot an elephant, it’s a good day. But if you spot a tiger, your holiday is made.' We were charged and kept pointing at anything that was slightly yellow and ruffled, as a tiger in the bush. The chances of spotting a tiger were bleak but we were hanging on to a little string, I’d like to call 'tiger hope'. Thinking of taking this wildlife game a step at a time we decided an elephant first, then a tiger.

Half way to the border we spotted a wild tusker minding his own business and chomping on some shrubs. When you see an animal as big as that, apart from being in awe of its size alone, most people wonder if it actually is as wild as the stories say. Not making a sound we took a couple, maybe more than a couple of photographs and drove on. We sat in silence still thinking of that big guy and what he, must’ve thought of us. The game had begun.

The next level in the game was going to be much tougher. Seats were exchanged, the most observant was made to sit near the driver and the loudest was sent back. When you enter a forest it’s almost as if Mother Nature works her magic on you. Your senses are suddenly at its prime and the silence is too. We breathed as much jungle as we could.

Slowly the attention moved to the newly acquired iPod. Will technology ever leave us alone? The loud yawns had begun even before our holiday did. ‘No tigers here, just Google a picture’ someone said. Our tiger hope was crumbling, not giving up yet; the boy in front was still on the lookout. He scanned through every inch of the quickly passing jungle and kept his eyes peeled for any movement. And, boy oh boy! There was movement. That very old cliché about how something’s in life just stay for a fleeting moment. This was our moment.

That marvellous carnivore took one leap in front of our car and was gone even before we could finish saying ‘tiger’. The boy in front was the only one who saw the beast clearly. The driver saw his head and was thanking every supernatural force for the sighting. The people in between caught a glimpse of the paws and were raving about how big they were.

I on the other hand, the back bencher, saw that tiger’s tail. The game was over, the winner had tales to tell his grandchildren and the loser had a tail to tell hers.

Tomorrow

In my experiences over the years and they seem too few to me on most days, I have learnt that a person can do only that much in a day. He can watch the sun rise and spray its rays, making sure they seep into every crevice. The sun stretches and is all set for an entire day of hard work. The man is too. As he walks to work, the horns, footsteps, yawns are all drowned out by the thought of how work will be that day. Its a queezy mixture of hope and anticipation. He makes plans for the evening, even before logging on to his computer. The plans never end in my head, he thinks. Decides what to have for lunch and at what time. Deadlines, screaming, more deadlines, office banter is the usual. Time for a break, the ac is too cold. He walks out lights a cigarette and watches his colleagues go about doing what they are programmed to do. Is this what I look like too, he laughs. Back to work, the day goes on. Logs off and decides to work on those plans. He yawns, tomorrow, maybe.

Of fools and more

Any fool can criticize, condemn and complain and most fools do-Benjamin Franklin ..

I used to have a inspirational quotes poster stuck in my room and this quote has always had a funny effect on me . It wasn't too long ago I came to live alone ..not too far away from home , but far enough . Made friends ,met people and most importantly watched them (read-not like a stalker). Each sapien's company I had the pleasure of being in, either disproved this quote for me or nailed it on the head .There were situations that brought out the fool in people , some conversations did( I am sure a lot of mine would've made me look like a complete idiot , but let us not go there:P ) ,a couple of beer's or maybe even over lunch .What stood out in this crowd were not the wise ,but actually the lesser fool .The one who could control what he had to say , complain lesser and work more and give things a chance . Quite surprisingly there were a lot like that ,some who came knowing they should try and be the lesser fool and the others who were learning .

I was learning,I still am .

Mirror

Its not just another nice face,

now ,that mirror shows me more

sides i swore i never had ,

never really is a long time,

Dressing up for a date ,

morale boosts before a meeting,

and kisses to your pretty self,

have been cleaned off like comfortable dust on teak .

The photographs on the sides,

some taken at that very spot,

are all stacked ,staring at the draw,

where did it all go ,i ask that woman,

who was once confident ,soulful and much in love,

why don't i see running mascara from a fight,

or kisses from a new lipstick ,

where are the flashes in the middle of the night,

and my supermodel pout?

All gone she said ,

you forget ,I have two faces.

spun

He stood on the portico watching his son spin the top that had kept him entertained for hours as a kid. That piece of wood with the little metal rod below that had years of usage shown all over its once neatly varnished self. He noticed the interest had slowly reduced and a new toy somewhere knew it was his lucky day. In a matter of seconds that top was left on the table next to his attention span. Where have all the wood shops gone? What would a kid do if a block of wood and other tools were given to him, like they were to me?

We have spoilt our offspring. Consumerism is ingrained now .Everything has a faster and an easier method .The ability to create a piece of you from a block of wood or some clay has been swapped with the ability to know which toy is better and which row of the market it is in. Toys R Us need a makeover and should start with their name .It should say “Toys Were Us”. Now they are just pieces of plastic produced in large quantities in a sweat shop somewhere which have no attachment except for the screws.

He walked into the house and cleaned the string, wound it around the top and spun it with all the skill he had. It turned out perfectly and spun like a ballerina in a big recital. That’s where the line had been drawn .The brouhaha of being the consumer and the reach for plastic hadn’t taken over completely, there still stood a little boy proud of his creation and already thinking of another. He wasn’t yet the CONSUMER par EXCELLENCE.

NO !!

Little haley saw the world
through her bright blue eyes
safe inside dads arms and protected under moms breast
her walk was cushioned ,
her fears shoo'd away from under the bed
and this pink world was how she wanted it ,
without ever having heard the word NO .
Little haley was not little anymore
she still had her wayy with dad and mom ,
but the world was evil ,
it was out to torment her ,
throw life's darkest and watch, as she ran for cover ,
she cried when she saw that rainbow repainted
she cringed as the pink turned to crimson ,
NO had settled in ,comfortably and snug ,
Rejection came unannounced and never seemed to leave ,
heart break and betrayal stalked like a creepy character ,
and Happiness was a relative who had died ,
She sat on her favorite chair and thought about this troubled reality ,
rocking that chair vowing to bring some change ,
she threw rejection out and made trust her friend ,
she pushed heart break aside and called laughter home for supper,
That rainbow got back its old color
and LIFE started to shine through those windows
The word No does pop in sometimes to say hello
but he is treated like an acquaintance now ...
Little haley knows how to choose her friends :)

Waves

Floating on a plank
in the middle of nowhere
surrounded by thrashing waves
the water acting like a snare
drenched in salt
and life's misgivings
staying still waiting for that tide
life underwater is not what I want to see
Hanging on to hope
but questioning it too
I float on that plank.
Flashes of the past
the judgement's and shackles
fleeting memories of the good
all that seems distant
feeling solitary yet accompanied
by life of the ocean
I float on that plank.
Thirsty and aching
from all the experience
using what i have
wishing to have learnt more
I paddle with all my might
on to new shores
It could've been the end
but whats life when you give up
I live to see another day
saved by the waves of my mind.