It started with something called ‘Not at all’

She was keeping a jar full of laddu’s on the shelf. I came running to her and said, “Aai, ask me whether I want laddu’s or not?”…(In Marathi)..ahh she was surprised but she did ask.. “Tula ladoo have ahet ka?”(Whether you want laddu’s or not?)…and all excited me quickly answered in English,‘No, not at all.’ ‘Ohh..’ she said and hugged me. I was in fifth standard in which I learned first few words of a language called English.

I still wonder why she hugged me? I am pretty sure she must have shared this incident with my father. Neha, spoke in English!

Today I find it easy, as if it was never an issue for me. But it was! I have no idea why I suddenly remembered this incident from my past and here at this very moment I realise how far I have come in life.

I know I am 20 and people might think that calling it a LIFE is a bit too much but whenever I turn the pages of past I do feel I have come far…very far from everything that happened.

Regarding the language, people around me are surprised that I come from the vernacular school, Marathi medium to be precise and it was followed by my best friend confessing that looking at me I seriously don’t look like those from the Marathi medium!

Hah…who are those? And why are they called as those?

I remember I used to whine about not sending me to the English medium!Then my Aai would say, “I always wanted to send you to an English medium school, but you know your Baba!” and then the conversation would follow with how my Baba is ultimately right as she never really opposed him!

So when people ask me how come I picked up this language I always share an anecdote about Ferguson college when my favourite English teacher told us that if she (who studied in a Marathi medium in a village where she didn’t have English till her 10^th as a subject) can stand and teach us today, why can’t we learn?

Till today I used to think Ferguson College and My English Professor were my mentors but then I remember the ‘not at all’ conversation with my beloved mother and I say ahh I guess no, not at all!

It was her…It was her dream…

And I wonder if she is watching me here sitting in an office of a leading English daily, writing this blog in English!

It’s been nine years…I am conversing with my self and not with you!

Aai…I wish I could talk to you in English and see your beautiful eyes lit up with pride…

Well not your every wish comes true…

When she left…I felt something back then I didn’t know what was that something called but today I know the word…It’s void…yes, the word is ‘Void’…

A place to remember…

I think each one of us has a special place in this world. A place where you get to feel the significance of yourself in others life. A place which is so comfortably placed in your memory that what so ever happens you will remember the time you spent there.

It can be anything from a bench on Kharghar station to the table for two at the four Seasons!

In my case, it’s a bus stop. Yes, it’s a Bus Stop in my long left home town Pune which I will always remember. This bus stop is near my house from where I catch a bus to Mumbai almost every alternate weekend.

Now why this bus stop?

We are a family of six! And all the members are always excited to send me off to Mumbai (they won’t agree but that’s the truth). Each one of those five seek an opportunity to drop me to this bus stop and wait till I board the bus…and Bus takes ages to come (as always). So meanwhile standing on the bus stop I listen to my family tales! You know I have never heard Fairytales , they were always family tales even when I was a little girl!

Staying away makes you be in that blissfull ignorance about the insights in the family issues. Ya , and they are literally issues!

My father finds this time to inspire me to go ahead and make a place in this world and build up a status (be humble and down to earth‑ very important points) and what not in this world! grhhhhhhhh…I just keep looking at the bus and feel sorry for the bus driver who eventually becomes a victim of my cursing for every second in my mind…

“Why the bus is getting late, why its always late.I hate this pune’s traffic, dada!” it puts my brother into flames who spends every second on this bus stop in convincing me not to go back..then he says, “ya ya..you are a Mumbaikar now. You hate everything in Pune, including me!”…ahh how clichéd (says my mind- mind you, its always my mind which talks on this bus stop)

My sister makes a point of bringing out a fight out of nothing there and making all sorts of misunderstandings that one human being can possibly make on this whole earth.

Sometimes I do wonder she has taps inside her eyes, always ready to pour water out…

So ultimately this place , The Vanaj bus stop in Kothrud, Pune 411038 is always filled with those emotions I am actually deprived of throughout the 15 days. Its always good to be there once in a month! Only once…

Then the bus comes…makes that unexplainable sound of a break and the conversation ends…I board the bus and look out of the window to give them ‘a bye for now see you soon kinds’ look and then starts a journey towards my destiny.

This all might be unusual, funny or even boring at times but this place makes my loved ones tell me few things which they don’t tell to anybody else. This bus stop, might be just a bus stop for others but for me its place where I bond the best with my family members.

I guess it’s a good enough reason to come back to Mumbai…

Because while going back to Pune , I always wonder which tale my family is going to tell…

When loneliness becomes a habit…

I could see them, chatting, strolling on roads together, bunch of youngsters walking past everyone in their own world. They looked so happy to me! I remembered my days when I used to spend hours at a tea shop, sipping tea and pouring words continuously.

I remembered my school friends and our constant giggling. Endless discussions on the matches we won and lost while we were in school!

My job compels me to meet various people. They share their experiences, sometimes good, sometimes worst. Then at office I sit between gang of girls where I never feel alone. As the day progresses the feeling of loneliness starts making its way through and then comes the moment when I have to walk alone towards my home every night.

I immediately call my family members, chat with them. Then after reaching home I call up my friends and again chat with them. The question that still remains is for how long phone is going to keep me company. For how long movies are going to divert me from thinking about my loneliness and not a single day goes by when I don’t press the repeat the play list button on my mobile! Sometimes I wonder why the hell I am doing this. Why the hell am I alone living with the old lady, eating outside food when my parents own a three storied bungalow? Is it independence or my passion? I wonder!

There is nobody here with me to fill up this empty space. Then I am lying awake till two at night thinking about the good old days. I seriously wonder whether I was sleeping and this storm has suddenly woke me up or I was in a misconception that I can mange myself alone!

I stay alone still I am so occupied by the thoughts of others. I haven’t eaten a rashogullas’ because my friend who likes them is not with me. When a friend mails me from England I just keep smiling the whole day! Then suddenly my best friend rings me and asks, why every blog of yours ends with you? The only answer I could think of is because I am the only one whom i spend time with these days.

Does this mean that a person like me is in a need of a companion? My answer is no, I have enough friends and too many family members who are ready to keep me company willingly but the time has changed now. I am no longer a so called sincere girl with all the notes and answers with me. I am no longer a girl who would fall for anybody just to seek company. Life is more about bigger things now. I have always done what I wanted. There is not a single decision that I regret in my life. My only regret while writing this blog is that I am sounding like 40 whereas I am just a 20 year old girl full of energy. At the end what makes me happy is that I have so many memories to cherish when I am alone. I have so many things to share with my family when I go home once in a month. I meet my cousins once in a while and we all roar in laughter thinking about our childhood tantrums.

Here I wonder again…I feel empty still so occupied! I may be living alone but good memories keep me company and my decisions keep me going…!

Another blog that ends with me…but I am not disappointed because I am thinking about how these words are keeping me company!

Reading Blues…

As a person who loves writing I have experienced a thing called ‘writers block’. It’s a state of my mind where you just can’t write even a word. You may try as much as you can but it doesn’t help…but these days I have been thinking if there is something called as ‘readers block’ as well!

‘A reader’s block’, a state of mind in which you don’t want to read even a single word. Then suddenly out of the blue you realise that books are piling up on your desk, books which are yet to be read, books which were bought buy you, some of them even gifted looking at your passion for reading and some recommended by excited friends who took up reading because of you!

These days I actually do have an ample time to read but I am not reading at all. When I realised that I am not able to grasp a single word, I started trying hard, you know as I guess any passionate reader would do. So I sat on my sofa with a book and a determined mind. I tried to remember it’s first few chapters as it was a book I left halfway through…then with absolutely alert eyes I started reading the book after 10 minutes I was in a sound sleep.

So every morning I tell myself don’t worry lets start with a newspaper and I fail to reach the editorial page! Even while reading a sports page or a recruitment section I think about things which are in no way connected to the text in front of me…so when I realise I am not reading, I am just holding a page in front of me. I start reading the text again which I read few minutes back! Ahh …this cycle never stops.

I can literally hear Ayn Rand, R.K.Narayan, Orhan Pamuk and various other legends calling me from my stuffed to death bookshelf…”come on..you can read me..don’t you remember how you used to read us with zeal..with a shine in your eyes..!” and all I can answer them is a big, boring yawn..ahhhhhhh…

Just at the point when you are depressed with your suddenly realised ‘reading blues’…your father comes up with two new books as your graduation gift. “Read them beta, they will inspire you in your journey in the field of journalism...” says your excited dad…

This incidence follows with a series of cosmic questions like why this is happening to me, why I am not able read and why my father always strikes a wrong timing?

No..no...I will come out of this phase. ‘Yes I will’ says the Inner me to myself! This time I have changed my plan a little bit..

I am sitting on my sofa..with a cup of tea and a magazine in hand…lets see how many minutes I’ll survive!

Reflections: An insight

While looking at a pattern of a tree outside reflected on the wall of my bedroom, I always wonder if the tree is more beautiful or its reflection.

I have always observed that the reflection of a moon in the water is so much more subtle and touching…I wonder why?

Have you ever seen a reflection of sky in the water…sometimes its so camouflaged that at a point you won’t be able to differentiate which is the water and which is the sky! So what does a mirror show to you? Sometimes when I look at my reflection in the mirror, I keep thinking that whether its me or someone who I want to be is looking back at me!

Its interesting to know how you perceive yourself at a certain age. I clearly remember my Sanskrit period in school, our teacher was explaining a Sanskrit poem in which while talking she said, “At your age you have a fascination of the mirror, you keep checking how do you look and you find yourself to be beautiful!” That was so true! You, yourself are never ugly in your own eyes and the respective mirror plays a fantastic role in this.

What will you do when you feel like talking to yourself? Like a woman in that poem who doesn’t like to grow old and curses the mirror for it! isn’t she cursing herself? Isn’t the mirror actually reflecting her own insights which are making her feel old and tired?

In my house there are three mirrors, one makes me look bold the other clearer while I am always afraid to look in the third as its wider and it makes me look fatter! Its so simple…what I feel is what I see in the mirror. Its my perception combined with my insights reflects me. The moods keep changing, the feelings keep changing so is my reflection, what is constant is the mirror and its quality of reflecting whatever comes in front or to be very precise whatever is real, just like as it is.

But whether its real, vicious, tricky or a simple lie depends completely on how true to you are to yourself. Once a friend said in a discussion that, “I can lie to the world but how can I lie to myself?”

I think this sentence completely suits the moment when the mirror reflects you.

“Tell me what do you see within, what do you see in my eyes? Do you even recognize me?” I asked the mirror one day and he proudly replied, “I see you! Your eyes reflect that now you are ready to face the world…and your mind says you are about to fly away…I will miss you!”

It rained today…and I lived the moment!!!

I left my home in agony, in suffocation. It felt as if something is binding me, bothering me so much that I am not even able to breathe. Is it because of my unemployed status or the house full of people, is it because I don’t exactly gather what I am doing properly or I am considering few things which I was pretty determined to ignore.

I knew the shop is going to be closed but it served the purpose of going for a long scooter ride, alone thinking about myself, my life and it started raining.

Monsoon rains are so enjoyable. I have always wondered how come rain has a power of washing away all the miseries of your life and gives you the courage to start afresh! Yes! I felt it.

The city of Pune in every season keeps telling me to go back to my roots. It keeps encouraging me to feel that, yes I belong here! Any and every time I left this city was always to come back…Pune was totally washed today.

It felt as if Mother Nature is gently bathing her lovely child. Today I tried to wash all my grievances in the same rain and I was successful enough. I sang my favourite songs to myself while coming back home, I felt rejuvenated.

Then I remembered how my cousin and I used to play in the rain in our balcony. I went there and played with water…splashhh...was the sound as I kicked the water. I guess it was the worries that splashed in the rain and I let them drain in the void.

In this span of time I realised that I am doing nothing but enjoying the moment. I did not care about what will happen in the future…ahh I did not even think about the next minute. It was present and I was absolutely present over there, getting wet in the rain. Drops of happiness falling continuously on my face…as I closed my eyes what I could listen and feel was just rain.

My usual habit of enjoying the rain is by sitting at the corner of our sofa in the living room closing my eyes and just listening to the sound of rain…I did realise today that I can do the same even by being there… outside on my own without any fear. There is no need to worry about anything after all life is about creating memories…living them in moments and rejoicing them afterwards!

I guess rain has made me converse within…It has taught me to just loose myself and live every passing moment…

I wish to continue my lessons with rain…

Right now its time for a hot cup of tea…Happy monsoon!!!

The Great Himalayan Trek…

One thought crossed my mind as I was watching the great Himalayas, What makes a man travel? Any man travels to explore new places or to explore himself? Throughout my Himalayan expedition I was occupied with such cosmic questions yet I was at peace. There was no regret, no guilt, no insecurity. There was no rage about my past, no worries of future. There was just one goal and that was to reach the top exactly at 13,800 ft and one focus, that was ‘Me’.

Himalayas are not only beautiful but mysterious as well. It makes you go silent. You just keep looking at the snow covered peaks and think its so near but eventually those peaks are miles and miles away from you looking down at you. You don’t feel like talking to anyone, you just want let the environment sink in you.

Throughout the trek I wrote random thoughts in my diary. I was not bothered to mention any schedule, day’s routine or anything particular. What I wrote was what I thought. Have you ever been in such trans where you are at complete peace? you cant predict what will happen tomorrow yet your not worried! You know, feeling good about yourself! I was in such trans till I returned. The atmosphere there sets you in such trans. You feel the silent mountains are talking to you.

“Who are you? Just like one of those trekkers who come and go, who consider reaching on top of me as an achievement? And eventually have very less time to admire my beauty?” asked me the proud Himalayas and I answered, “I am not one of those who are exploring you. I am not one of those who consider you as an achievement. I am here to explore myself. Your beauty and greatness has compelled me to do that.”

The ever changing weather in Himalayas post another challenge to your mental strength. There may be a bright sunshine in the morning but after a while suddenly its all cloudy and you already know that its going to rain and going to get tougher, still you know you have to climb . Your goal is set, your road is fixed , tackling its difficulties and reaching on top is what matters.

If I talk about my ultimate realisation in this wonderful trek of Himalayas then that is very simple. I trek because I love nature, I love that activity, I love meeting new people and I simply love clicking photographs and creating wonderful memories. I do not envy those who consider reaching on top as the whole and sole purpose of trek. I do not envy those who hate getting tired and fail to admire the beauty of the mountains. If you aren’t tired then how will you stop and take look at the green lush valleys, snow covered peaks and get back the energy to move ahead? If your photographs do not create memories of a shared laughter with friends then what is the purpose of being together on a trek?

So now I do believe that anybody who has a will power and absolutely loves nature can trek. But do trek with right vision, otherwise it will just turn out to be a hectic holiday. As you reach the base camp you hear a word , acclimatization…more than my body my mind was acclimatized in the great Himalayas…and after this great Himalayan trek I am finding it difficult to acclimatize at home…