Mandi Trip: A trip that almost wasn't to be (Part 1)

This trip almost didn't happen. Well there's a lot in it to tell so I will divide it into parts....

The decision

I had planned it long ago for research purpose. But then that time it didn't strike me how difficult it would be to reach to such a place or how the situation might vary with time. So my health fell, again and again and with it fell my confidence. I couldn't do a 12 hour bus trip. Heck, I even hated train journeys and would take flight whereever possible. I didn't do long journeys. Never had. Flights were different. And now with bad health...a weak stomach, recovering from a bad case of viral, well it seemed impossible. And there was the extreme cold which seemed equally terrifying right then. I even feared going alone. What if one of the terrible stories of incidents with girls came true? What if the bus fell due to bad weather. Fears engulfed  where there had been none. And I couldn't cancel. I had asked for this. I felt trapped and terrified.  Terrified to refuse. Trapped into going.

Then it changed. I remembered how we should always do one thing that terrifies us. So this would be it for the year.  And then I realised I didn't have to go.  Nobody would kill me if I didn't. I was even given the choice not to go. I could easily settle back into routine and have a relaxing weekend additionally. But I would always feel I wimped out. Of course there was still the need to go not just to overcome fears but also to learn and to keep my word. To do what I took as mine to be done. But it certainly helped to have it as a choice till the very end. Now I wasn't trapped into going, now it was an internal choice.

And I was off. Off to a new journey. The thought in mind ...there's a difference between foolhardiness and courage. Often we don't which we are doing this much later. I wondered which this was. Of course for many, it would be trivial but that varies from person to person and also in different situations.

More to follow....the journey....the trip, the reflections it brought and a lot more...

Cycle of influenza

Warning: This may be a cribopost!

December, a month I always look forward seems to have taken a strange contrary turn this time. Things which can go wrong, are.  And that doesn't even include the unexpected. Lets take the long, strong bout of flu. A normal flu flutters in and out as we solder on. We may even welcome a day's rest for it. This one  however, had all sorts of stages:

1. Collapse: I am dead to the world. Help.
2. Hopelessness: My life is over. This will never get better. Maybe it is some deadly disease....maybe I need to reevaluate my life at every level.
3. Too far off: Ok, maybe it will get better but too late for me to ever catch up in this race called life. Maybe it will last into weeks or months gobbling away all my leaves and thus leaving me helpless and clueless about the world. 
4. Desirelessness: There is nothing that I want anymore. I am too fed up. What was it that I wanted from life?
5. A stray hope: So I found a single thread towards what gives me/ used to give me  happiness. So now, holding that tiny thread forth,  lets see the next tiny step. Desires are coming back!
6. Alive again: Life is good and I am alive again.
7. Haziness: Just as life seems better again, the aftereffects of illness and medicine turn grey in the form of weakness and a thick veil of haziness. I am physically better but the mind refuses to work. I am only 50% of what I originally was. Help!

And there we are! A cycle of flu eating time up time, health and sucking up all joy.

Haircuts and style changes

There is a theory I have developed with experience about haircuts and changes in styles. A change in haircut or hairstyle invariably leads to a change in personality.  Whenever I am looking for some change, I go for a change in style. Sometimes it's for the better and sometimes for worse. But it's a new journey. It's tougher of course when you are not looking for changes and still want a change in look. Because it WILL still affect life. Besides experience there is also a logical basis to it. As we change our look, something in our personality undergoes a delta change. We become more carefree with a shorter cut or more ready for experiencing changes with a wilder or more experimental look. A traditional, long style may depict more maturity and a greater need for stability.

This may also be true for beards and moustaches though that would be based more on theory and observation than experience! A moustached look would represent a more traditional and also somehow more responsible outlook. A  clean shaven look may represent a disciplined personality. An unshaven look may reperesent a transparent, confident nature with no need to prove anything to the world. A more experimental look again may be a way of reaching for different flavors of life. 

With that said, lets see where this new journey takes me.

Quotable quotes

During my college days, we would find a quote on the board which we would see everyday before setting about on our floors. Soon we began to look out for it. It was interesting and a good way of setting about the day. So around 6-7 months ago, when I got a chance ( board),  I recalled those moments and started writing a quote a day, most weekdays. At first it was exciting and easy and a good conversation starter for a new person. It also was good to see people stop by and read them. Later it seemed tougher, you don't feel as equitable each day and not all quotes are appropriate everywhere. But slowly I realised it helped me the most. No matter what else was happening, I was bound to start the day with a positive or at least interesting thought and that definitely set a better tone for the day.

When you read quotes everyday, you do tend to develop some of your own reflections also. Here are some reflections of the past 6 months:

Only the graceful and open hearted deserve apologies.

Too much and too little time are both equally deadly.

In the age of texts, there lies a tiny tale within the original undeleted texts and the final ones that actually 'qualify'.

Many come in for chatter but the ones who mean to stand by you, stay for the silences

Just like on diving in the sea takes some time to get bearings, in the same way, after being wordless, it takes a while for words to come again.

Don't count the minutes, makes the minutes count ( ok this exists in the form of days but I find it more appropriate for minutes)

Life is about those stolen "just happy moments" that come in between those "so hectic moments"

Gathered leaves wear coats of endless colors, each one painted  by time (I think I wrote this but this written a long time ago so only 90% sure)

Some of the greatest memories have no photos, no status updates, just a satisfaction of a moment well lived.

Just like our technological devices, we also need rebooting at times. Sometimes it's ok to pause, reflect, smile and then restart.

This Childrens' Day, glad to be grown up!

Today is Childrens' Day and as different people recall their childhood and glorify those times, I seem to have a different perspective.  This time, right now is the best. There have been many forwards about single life being great and maybe it is so for many. To each his own. But this post is for those married people in their 30s leading normal, stable lives. This time is the best. You are married, maybe with a child or two, a stable job  or if lucky then career, you have a set of stolid friends and are more or less "settled". And that's actually great!  Lets rewind and see why.

Childhood is a time of dependece, unstability and uncertainity. You don't know who your friends are. You get bullied. You fear being  a laughing stock the most during this time. You don't know what you will do with your life. You are complete "dependant". This starts somewhere  in school.  For some this starts during middle school and for some, earlier. The phase before this fades with time and preserves fewer memories. Homework, marks, competition, discipline and peer pressure define a typical child or typical Indian child. Maybe some hobbies come to play at some point of time.  They come with their set of guilt of "not  studying". The child becomes a teenager. Their priorities change. Friendships, crushes and latest trends become more important. There begins the start of their push for independance. Teachers' and parents' opinions suddenly seems very remote. Friends matter though that may or may not help. This is also the time maximum hearts are broken. Sometimes even by so called friends. This is the most unpredictable age as interests and dreams start taking directions and many plans made earlier go haywire. An aspirant doctor may want to become an actor, a would be scientist may suddenly want to be a writer and so on. Sometimes there is a basis and sometimes it is just an exploration. But as they push boundaries, some may feel too bound and unable to explore which could be the start of a lifetime of regrets and blamegames. Others explore, push and thus starts the phase of uncertainities. College starts and suddenly the freedom  becomes variable.  You are in a transition  from childhood towards adulthood. Future becomes important. Relationships become serious, friendships more selective and careers more result oriented. You measure everything in terms of how it will affect your some remote future.  You also experience some "in between" pleasures. You also make great memories. But the rest of the time the future looms a ahead like a gray hazy cloud of smog.  As you approach forward, you realise, moving ahead paves the way and that's all there is, different paths for the rest of the life. Crisscrosses which never end but do decrease with time. As you make more decisions, you move away from the mesh and more towards a major direction with minor diversions. Of course, conditions apply !

A few hit and trials, a few setbacks, some success earlier or later in different aspects of life and you are here. You are settled.  You know whom you want to spend the rest of your life with. You are "home". You know what you want to do in the rest of your life. Another direction settled.  You live with your own little family. You are independent. You can be as slovenly or neat as you wish. As lazy or adventurous as you wish. You meet your little one. Suddenly you can explore a fresh childhood without the pains of actually experiencing it. Or maybe those pains of helplessness increase for parents later but not for the next 6-7 years probably! You have a set of stolid, trustable friends. People you can depend upon. You have more confidence. The world, in which you have your own niche is no longer scary. Ridicule is no longer as feared. You can revel in  your uniqueness and best of all, the little things are just that, little. They are no longer the end of the world. You are cushioned by stability in different aspects of life. Life has an entire spectrum to offer as you get ready to taste its diverse flavours.

Discovering Life: PG Express: It's worth the wait (Part 2)

This is it. The Convocation. The recognition of years of effort and all that is much more than effort. And suddenly student life is over forever. Or maybe that has just been formalized now but it got over much earlier. Between thesis submission and defense, a PhD scholar slowly weans away from student life, towards another world. That happened. After defense, one loses all fears of uncertainity so convocation remains a mere formality. And that's what it seemed like until the Vedic mantras started. It was just the rehersal. The person conducting it explained that they meant that the institute and teachers have done all they could and now it is upto the students to take this knowledge further. Next came the oath. And subsequently the goosebumps. And the memories. The memories include the pride of being able to gain  knowledge from such great minds,  to learn at such a great institute, of achieving more than expected. And all the good stuff. There is a lot. But there have been posts about it. This post is not about that.

Because somehow this time I remembered all the tough moments. The tears. The toil. The time before it all started....how unreachable it seemed, right from school...yes it was an early dream.  The victory of joining and then the fears. The time of struggle when one could just plod on with no clarity. More tears. The harsh questions. The determined answers. The constant feeling that "it WILL work out somehow". The sleepness nights. The weekendless months. It was tough. Tough in so many more ways than just academic. And finally there was also the time when I also finally wondered whys of doing it. It comes to everyone in some or the other phase. For me that started when it was nearly over. When the next steps became hazy.   When you know that you that are oriented for a specific field. Yes, field matters after so many years. When you  can't bear the experience and effort not being acknowledged.

Yes, soon it all worked out and the questions became long forgotten. Until these chants. Was it worth it? Yes. Would I do it again if given a chance. Yes, of course.  But that doesn't change it WAS tough. What did it teach me? Confidence and persistance. There is nothing that can't be done. Somethings just take longer and some just need more effort. Just like after childbirth, one gains the courage to bear any kind of pain, with the reminder that it is minisculine compared to that,  same is the case with PhD. You gain the courage to take up any task and know that you can do it, because you have crossed  much bigger and stronger hurdles. And survived. 
You come out stronger.
And realise it's ok to cry a few tears of joy at that final moment.  They validate all those other tears.

Some places are just humane

Though there are many pending posts, this one deserves to be written today. It's been 6 months for me at the new work place now. 6 months of learning, fun, excitement and a sense of accomplishment. 6 months of new stuff which keeps happening. 6 months of flurry.  Some jobs are good, some are bad, some to be tolerated, some for timepass and some to be enjoyed. And then there are those rare ones which become a way of life. They directly or indirectly touch other aspects of your life. They change something internally. For me it was a sense of respect and a sense of humanness. You lose it in student life especially PhD. You are meant to do as instructed. But suddenly you realise that you are amongst the human race again...people who have personal lives and a sense of individuality and don't mind stating it and understand that you do too. With time you lose a sense of constant fear. It's like school for geeks (people who actually look forward to it!). Of course there are ups and downs, days of busyness and days of laziness, days when you are eager to go and days when you just wana go back to bed. But it's the right place when the work part is still fun.
It's the right place when you have smiles coming and going put.

How is it compared to other places for me? Well PhD has seen enough posts to it.  The other places, the work was good but they made me wonder if one can get too old for new friendships. Or too whatever after PhD. Yes, no lucid words for that state. They made me miss that one best friend terribly.  And I so longed for it...to have that one great friend to have tea and talks, to nag when sleepy, to just be with.  It was lonely and somehow having less work can make such situations harder...you end up watching the clock after a while.

  So it's always good to be in the thick of things. To be given responsibility and new opportunities. It makes you want to grow and learn and when learning is fun and appreciated, you don't mind a bit of extra effort. It's also good to be part of all the celebrations that keep happening: festival celebrations, writing competitions, dress up days and lots more. At one point my mom felt I dressed for occassions as much as my 4 year old!

On the other hand, on the people front, no, I didn't get that single best friend here either.  In fact being in an all guys group reduced that possibility right at the onset. But I got the next best thing. I got to speak to a whole bunch of people on a variety of topics. In others places there were generally two versions of groups....either the news or the food/homefront gossip....both felt like misfits. Here when you don't have that one person, you talk a lot many, you hear a lot. And yes a great many of those discussions would involve bikes, beards and gyms but they can also be amusing. You get to meet readers, writers, artists. You get to discuss technology, philosophy, books, movies and family....just maybe all with different sets of people or maybe all in one.  You get freshly inspired. You meet parents, single people and those in transitions. You meet the females in unlikely places...or most likely places! And you know you fit in when there are  those who care enough to ask you when all is not great and also those to go and tell when something exciting happens. And you realise that noone is  too old for friendships though the degree and type changes. Many times there is no time to talk or even pause at all but those are also good days knowing that you got something good done. Or sometimes even knowing that you are not going to be swordpointed if you do get stuck/stressed/sick. Sometimes that's all you need. To be able to remain human. Maybe that's what they mean by live and let live.  And maybe that's what  sustains one in a particular place. Flying is great but it's a whole lot easier when you know that the ground is safe.

Dislongingness

Sometimes festivals and celebrations become too peopled. They are fun but can lead to a loss of equilibrium. Or maybe years of seclusion make it so. PhD changes a person such that you keep longing for it to be over but once it is, it also leads to withdrawl symptoms. You tend to miss the the quietness of lab. That one place that you can anytime go back to. That one work that is all yours for what seems like forever.  And though, it torments you in different ways throughout the years, when all goes wrong in the world, it is like a refuge where you can rush to. Of course being surrounded by natural beauty makes it even more inviting and more solitude inducing. 

This is about that state of 'dislongingness' (using the poetic license as no other word describes the feeling as well) that one experiences after years of solitude and aloneness. It comes out at odd times like an unruly toddler and you know not what to do about it.

Dislongingness

Where do you go when you want to run away?
When there is no longer any single refuge
When the heart feels a dislongingness
A disenchentment from the world in general
And longs for not quiet time but solitude
Away from peopled loneliness towards aloneness

Is there a way I wonder
To achieve equilibrium
A perpetual calmness

We all have our good and our bad moments
Our loud and our quiet moments
Our alone and our peopled moments
Our pensive and reflective moments

We smile through the good
Wince and move on through the bad
But then come the moments of loud silence
Moments of peopled loneliness
Which disturb our inner peace
The inner child wants to run away
But with you remains trapped within masks of social obligations and pleasantaries
The inner child seeks familiarity
But finds familiar strangers
Smiling outworldly, ignoring blindly the silent pleas

This time lets give that inner child a chance to be free
Lets run away with it and all inhibitions forgo
Lets follow it and see where it leads
We may find a once lost refuge from long ago

The Tragically Tiny Tales@Diwali

This is the second part of #TTT. These are some Tragically Tiny Tales of Diwali. The TTT was expecting some sweet tales of Diwali but what came out from here was a different perspective of the festival of lights....the light within a person....when it lights up and when it dies out. So here they are!

#TTT1: This Diwali also they couldn't travel. As they lit crackers and celebrated, far away the light from her eyes faded and her wait ended.

#TTT2: This Diwali she had no crackers. No sweets. Just two twinkling eyes which erased the pain of that Diwali that had wiped her world.

#TTT3: This Diwali she got a unique gift. Her eyes saw light for the first time as his once kind act paid out once the light died out from his.

Hats off to all #metoos

A wave of #metoos are there on social media. All women were in some way or the other sexually harassed or assaulted put the status as metoo signifying that "yes, it happened to me too" so that the world can wake up and see how many women get downtrodden everyday.

Such exemplary courage these women have to change their status to #metoo. Because this metoo doesn't signify  rape but any form of sexual assault or harrasement. This includes the supposedly minor things that get hidden under like lewd remarks, horrible stares, the bad touches and the physical discomfort in crowded transports which almost every woman faces. Most of them ignore these as minor ailments thinking that it's not big. Big being rape. But noone has the right to assault anyone at any level. Or make them feel unsafe or uncomfortable. So back to these women. When they post #metoo, they open up and the world doesn't know how badly their dignity was battered, just that it was. Each will assume the worst and that itself is enough to pull one down a little. A person may only have been the victim to a bad touch in the bus but the world may think they were raped. And the world may forever treat them differently. And that is why I say they have courage.

Not everyone has that courage and that's ok too. "The victims don't owe anyone their story" as someone very rightly shared. 

Lots of men are sharing their status as #wetoo , #iapologise to signify that it hurts that so many people close to them have been suffering because of uncultured people of their gender. Well why am I writing this? What is my story? For now,  I am just an observer who wants to appreciate this movement. Does that make me a coward? Who says a woman can't be just an observer?

My third home

My third home
Where the heart smiles
Where we walked miles
Where flowers bloom 
And natures serenity was a constant companion even in my gloom

Where there is a spring in step to reach
Ten years with this place
Never has arriving here been without joy and a smile on my face
 
And now as new joyous homes abound
Its good to still have an old surround

P. S.: (My third home@IITD)

The Tragically Tiny Tales

I was recently recommended Terribly Tiny Tales which seems like an entirely new genre. An interesting one at that since one has to write very short stories. In some cases just as big as 160 characters. Well, I coudn't resist trying my hand at some of those, though it seems that most become "Tragically Tiny Tales", tragedies and twists being easier to portray in this format. Writing in this format seems like walking on a tightrope: it's very easy to slip and fall on the floor of ridiculousness or worse, ordinariness rather than walk along the line of genuineness. Thus would love to know which of these do manage to toe the line!

TTT1: All the people she longed to have tea and long conversations with, had time now and were having tea and long conversations, at her funeral.

TTT2: "Your place or mine", she asked. "Ours", he replied slipping the ring into her wrinkled finger.

TTT3: "She survived cancer!", he rejoiced, speeding up as he sailed overboard and couldn't survive the car crash.

TTT4: Theirs was a story of words. Yet they never talked.

TTT5: In her childhood, she longed to settle and they used to wander. In her youth, they did settle, while she got used to wandering.

TTT6: Ten years ago, we talked for the first time, enthralled in each others words till 4am. Ten years, a marriage and a kid later, we still do sometimes!

P.S: I had started this post much earlier with the title. In retrospect it seems less tragic at least in the literal sense of the word!

Long weekend: Part 3 ( What mask will you don today?)

As the long weekend draws to a close, there is that slight natural resistance to move from a relaxed carefree state to the daily rush. The weekend which seemed too long was good after-all. But it's a good life where Monday (or in this case Tuesday) and Friday both bring some amount of joy.

However, it is not so for all or maybe not for any all throughout the life. When the joy dies out of either workplace or home, people experience blues. Monday blues for some. While others have weekend blues. Some have social blues. Ever wonder why it is so? Because we all wear so many masks. We wear masks as defence against the world. Some of us might wear as many ten masks when in an unfamiliar environment.  As the environment and people become familiar, sometimes these masks may fall with time.  Sometimes they may even increase. It all depends on what we expect from the people around us. Every one of us has that fear of a jab at our self respect. Be it in an unfamiliar environment by  strangers or by acquaintances in terms of ridicule. Or harsh words by people which have the power by position, relation or closeness. At times it could in the form of doubt by people close to us. It could be in the form pity by people who witness that slight or vast downfall of our pride.  So we wear masks.

Masks which may say 

"I am not afraid"

"I am not alone"

"I didn't just mess up"

"I don't fear/mind getting yelled at"

"I am not ill or worried about my health"

"I am not tired"

Or even positive situation masks which may say...

"I am won't show I am too happy"

"I won't show my delight at that praise or compliment "

"I won't show that I feel lucky in my current situation"

And so on....

Some are professional masks and some are personal masks. At times a team may see certain professional masks getting created for outsiders and falling away within. Acquaintances become friends as they see masks falling away one by one. Sometimes people see through your masks and they fall apart. Sometimes you yourself let them fall away as your fear dies out for a particular person or group of people. However, at some basic level these masks stay. Some as temporary based on situations and some permanent ones. Some we acknowledge and some which don't admit even to ourselves.

When do they start getting created we wonder. Well I would say as the innocence of childhood and trust of childhood decreases. As children start getting judged and being put to task, their trust crashes. They start having that first fear of getting hurt. Maybe when a small child literally hides to eat that chocolate. Or that teenage who keeps that big secret for the first time. Maybe once they would have told but now they don't expect the understanding from the person in front of them. It could be parents, teachers or peers. Slowly we realise physically hiding is not possible. Maybe it happens after the first public scolding. You wear your first public mask then..."It doesn't hurt, I am not embarrassed" mask. Next time it maybe a peer who breaks your trust and you wear the "You are not close enough to hurt me, I don't care" mask. With time, they masks keep getting added to our faces and we start wearing them as a prevention. Sometimes it's a common "I am feeling great" mask to hide all stresses.

There are some places still where all these masks fall. All of us generally have one or maybe a few people who have seen all our masks fall.  It may be the partner, the best friend or parent. They are those who see  all masks falling apart, who see the worst in us. Maybe snot-crying, maybe the temper, maybe the lost state or maybe some other. But they witness that, gather the pieces and judge us none-the-worse.  They become our lifetimes. Our homes. Homes are where the heart is at peace.  A place away from all masks.  Until next time when we move out of that comfort zone. So, ever wonder, how many masks are you wearing?

Long weekend: Part 2 (The Half-dead Tree)

A few days ago I came across an interesting sight. While walking across a now familiar lane (isn't it strange, the transition between an unfamiliar lane becoming familiar .....more than time I think it's comfort that makes some place familiar, but I digress...), I came across a half-dead tree. Half of its leaves were bright green while the rest were wrinkled and dead.  Right next to it was a younger plant in its flowering stage. To me it was as if a standing poetry was greeting me but I couldn't find words for it. It seemed to evoke so many strong symbolism as if endless. As if there was a lesson which Mother Nature was trying to teach naive old me but I couldn't grasp it.

I still don't know what it was exactly but here are some interpretations which it seemed to evoke.

Stages of life: Shakespeare might have given Seven Stages but this scene showed the four very basic stages of life: childhood, youth, middle age and old-age. It showed so vividly how each stage affects us and how close each stage is to the next. How each needs the next to co-exist.

Familiar environment, different outcomes: People of same roots, same  environments can sometimes turn out so differently like branches of this tree. Why so? Maybe even  with the same roots, their environment varies or maybe it's just individuality. People take different paths as they grow and with their decisions, some prosper and some wrinkle out.

The half-dead parts within each of us: I think this impacted me the most as I gazed at that tree.  Some words came the next day, jumbled  and hurried as they were, they demand to be written as they were....(sometimes I feel words control writers more than vice versa!)

The half dead tree

The half dead tree
A tree which is half dead and half alive
What does it need to thrive?
Water, care and a little sunlight...
Why then did the Sun shine on only half of its hide?

Reminds me of our halflight
The hidden, frozen, sometimes swished, half dead parts within us
The parts which are by the world trodden
And then by us forever buried and hidden
Together they weigh like lead
Bringing us with them down
Like dry leaves, some may fall with time
while others remain..
Tarnishing us, our outward perfect bright lives

The half dead tree
Causes the heart pain mingled with longing, regret and doubt
Really what is life all about?
Why the deadness in live things
When life itself is so short
And with moments of danger so fraught?

The dead leaves here are a painful sight
A longing to make it all right
A reminder to follow the path of light
Why do we gave way to might over what is right?

Why is it that the display is always bright
While the backend murky and dark
why make life seem to be just a lark
when in depth we find our spark

Bring it out in the open the half-dead parts say
Don't wait for the leaves to die
Let the sun shine today
Before it's too late
Don't wait for that one fine moment, that right date
Life won't keep giving chances
We can't not do our deed
And then 'tis all  fate!

Save the half dead tree
Save the half dead you and me

Long weekend : Part 1 (Follow your bliss)

A long weekend generally means lots of activities and hustle bustle and before you know it you are at the end of Sunday night and back to the daily rush. It's good, it's fun but sometimes quiet weekends are also nice. When nothing big happens but you just relax and peel away life pleasures at your leisure. Sometimes we are wise enough to keep time for them while sometimes these are enforced upon us. God gives us various signs to slow down. Sometimes it's as simple as a common cold which puts you in bed and prevents you from making elaborate plans. Irritating though it might be, sometimes sickdays are just what we need to slow our pace and have a little quiet time. Well having one such quiet weekend at hand, I plan to complete a series of half-filled or even half-thought posts. Lets see.

Part 1
Follow your bliss...

This is the first such one. It started as a simple thought and a response to it. Sometimes it triggers a more elaborate thought process where you realise upon reflection there is much more you want to say or express.  For yourself. To free your thoughts. Some thoughts, though very simple, just want to be written. Well here's where all such all such half thoughts end up....as posts to be kept forever.

Follow your bliss whereever it leads you, it seems simple enough. Or do we follow life's practicalities? The practicalities would say there's "our daily bread" to earn,  there are responsibilities. Yet who says that we can't do both?

It's possible to follow bliss at some level everyday. It could be for a few minutes which leads to a lifetime practise. It means saying yes to your heart, to your instinct. It starts with simple stuff that makes one happy like chasing butterflies and watching clouds. Smiling at people without a worry. Not analysing or hesitating before you say something good to anyone. Goodness does no harm. Writing blogs, reading that childhood book again. Feeding your soul with at least one worthy conversation everyday. Maybe even eating that dessert. Buying something ridiculous which catches your fancy. Or bigger stuff like going for that much awaited trip. Taking up the job that makes you happy. Giving more time to that much  awaited, half-forgotten hobby. Learning something new regularly.  Sometimes taking an off day just to pause, reflect and recharge. Slowing down at times in between the daily rush. Removing negative people from your lives. Surrounding yourself by positive ones.
Following your instinct. Following your bliss. Following all that makes your heart smile.

One done, lets see how many others get coverted to posts!

Trees

Trees swaying their greens
telling you what life means
leaves come and go
but trees stay, they belong to long ago
winds can blow leaves right out
but the stronger ones stick out
leaves with their changing hues
driving away all blues
still they eventually fall and say bye
but sturdy branches don't die
this is story of the tree
but it could well be of you or me
do we with our roots stay
or with wind do we sway away?
………………………………………

Wordless days

Wordless days, hungry days
Sleepless nights and sleepy days
All end in an equal haze....
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Wordless days,
Sightless gaze
Smileless face,
It's all a needless chase...

Food for soul: Books n music

Novels, the storybook land of wonder leave a part of themselves within us.
But in music we leave a part of ourselves
Ultimately going back to those phases whenever we read or hear that piece.
Or get transformed by mood, thought or action at first go.
Such is the magic of creativity
At times to me it surpasses even beauty

Some things never change...

Sometimes the internet with it's strong memory can teach you about yourself. I recently realised this through Facebook and this very blog. Facebook has a feature called "On this day" which shows what we posted on that day some years ago. I saw a post from three years ago in which I had photos of clouds for two successive days. What is strange is that that's exactly what I have been doing recently!
Coincidence? Well here's more. Recently I was browsing over my old posts, specifically poems. And they still seem as relevant to me....even those which were over ten years ago! The words may seem crude but the words still make sense to me. And I think that's unusual even for writers. Or maybe it's just hard to acknowledge.  Or have I not grown at all? Or is it that some basics remain constant despite the ever-changing world? Like outer coverings to the inner soul.  Maybe  we remain the same, our individuality ageless while seasons and years change and with it what changes is only our response and mannerisms.

What do you think? Would love to have some thoughts here.

Kuch pal

Zindagi mein mukaam to kai hote hai,
Kuch manzilen, kuch raaste banke reh jaate hain,
Kabhi thehro to dekho,
Kuch pal apne nishan chod jaate hain...