Walking through life

 

Soft pleasing music, the sweet fragrance of Parijat in the air while walking in the starry moonlight, all make up to what is the most peacefully, pleasing end to my day.

I just love walking. It is that simple. It’s like my default response to everything there is. Feeling good? Walk. Feeling grumpy? Walk. Feeling confused? Walk. Feeling upset? Walk. Feel like punching someone? Okay, maybe punch and then, walk.

It’s not about walking with a specific destination in mind. Just strolling around, while contemplating, is I feel, the best way to sort your thoughts out. There’s a certain calm that descends over me when I walk. A sense of deep relaxation. I take that as the time when I allow myself to pause the thoughts I’ve been worrying about and reward myself with a few moments of peace no matter how my day has been. It is in those moments that the most amazing ideas, solutions and perspectives arise.

It's not like I’ve been a walking person all my life. Being the lazy baby I was, I always threw tantrums whenever I had to walk through the shortest distance. But my smart mum found a pretty amazing way to get me walking. She offered me a ‘Champak’, my favourite magazine back then for every time I walked to the market with her. Well, that pretty much closed the deal.

I feel the best way to bond with anyone is by walking together. The best conversations are the ones held over long tranquil walks. Strolling together, just putting out your thoughts is the best way there is to know and blend with people. When two individuals walk together, they synchronize their footsteps, automatically aligning to the other’s pace and state of mind. It’s all beautiful, really.

Maybe you don’t even need to talk. Just ambling together sharing a placid silence. Or maybe listening to some song while you stroll. Anything, really. Walking itself holds a special magic that just brings people wonderfully, amazingly together.

And, if the other person doesn’t want to go on a walk with you, Red Flag! Ward off!!

In the hustle of everyday life, complex thinking becomes the default setting. But when we allow ourselves a few minutes of solitude everyday, a time where only you and your thoughts remain, there comes a point when we realize that maybe it’s not that complicated after all. Maybe it really is a simple situation and the only thing complicating it is our own way of thought. And once you recognize that fact, sorting the entire thing becomes pretty easy.

To long walks and self talks!

 

A Journal entry, made Public

This is a piece I’m writing after a long, long time. The past few weeks have been draining enough. So, right now, I just feel like penning down whatever has been going on in my mind.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the after feel of things. In talking of after-feel, I do not mean the material after feel. I’m here in talking of it, referring to the feeling you have after something happens. The moment after the moment. Many a times, we feel, or at least try to convince ourselves, that we are feeling, great at the moment. But, after the moment has passed, later when we remember it, it all feels weird, uneasy, and strangely unhappy, all leading us to wonder, how could we have felt good at that time.

But, at the same time, there are moments, when we just feel calm and comforted in the moment, but the mere memory of the moment later awakens a giddily strong happiness.

Ah! The strangeness of life!

Well, the same applies to people as well. Some leave you feeling strange and empty, even though they acted on their best face with you, while some leave you with a warm, soft glow in your heart even though they did nothing more than just ‘existing’ with you.

The latter category is incredibly precious and hard to come by. Just hold on them when you find one. For that, is incredibly important. Finding the right people to be with. Finding those sunshine people who make you feel loved, cared for, important, respected and happy. Finding the ones who are ready to be with you not just when you are fun and cheerful, but also when you’re being difficult, and unreasonably grumpy. The ones who are ready to sit calmly by your side and listen to all the self-deprecating things you’ve been drowning yourself in till you’re ready to let go of all of it and take a deep breath. Find the ones you can be your true crazy self with. Finding such people isn’t going to be easy, but when you do, be sure to hold on to them. Be a baby koala if need be. Just don’t let them go.

At the same time, in hoping for the right people to turn up, don’t keep forgiving the nonsensical ones. It is important to shut off toxic people. The ones who make you feel unwanted, unimportant, just another human, or even ugly, unattractive, stupid, weird, or embarrassing. It’s okay to forgive once in a while. But when anyone repeatedly, unreasonably, casually triggers your self-doubts, it is important to keep yourself at the topmost priority. Else you might lose yourself, I’m afraid.

Not that our life is completely determined by the people we spend it with (though a large portion of it is). Life is much more than that.

Live. Live, my friend! Live for the soft early morning breeze playing with your hair. Live to see the warm sunshine filtering through the leaves against a placid blue sky. Live for the aroma of fresh hand-beaten coffee on your work desk. Live for the petals that blossom with the first new shower of rain. Live for the joy of witnessing your parents’ silly banters. Live to listen classic Kishore Da songs with your grandparents. Live for the poetry of life, the music of nature and the romance of simple, everyday living.

All while living your best possible life, remember to Be. Be erratic. Be confused. Be spirited. Be crazy. Be fabulous. Be annoying. Be whoever, whatever and however you want to be.

JUST, BE YOU!

My First Love!

As I near the third birthday of my baby, my blog (4 August), I feel that this is the perfect time to share with you all what really started this all. What really was the starting point of a journey spanning countless books, that fired me off to start writing. So, yes this blog’s gonna be more of a personal one.

Reading. A single reason, a single hobby that soon became a habit.

I started reading when I was three, learning to join my first words and sentences. It all started with a magazine called Magic Pot published by Malayala Manorama (It’s still being published), a really beautiful, lively and creative kids’ magazine filled with cute little animals, classic stories and countless learning based activities. My parents got me one of those, and I simply loved it! So, my middle class parents, without sparing a second thought, got me a five year long subscription. Because that was their decision. To spend on books, no matter how difficult it may be. It was one amazingly joyous journey for me. My parents turned into storytellers, helping me read, giving their time, so I could learn to love books.

As I grew up, me and my parents struck a deal. For any task that I didn’t feel like doing, but was good for me, I would get a book on completion. A very fair deal! I spent hours reading short story books, magazines like Champak and Children’s World and of course, Diamond Toon Comics like Pinki and Chacha Chowdhary.

Not even a single day passed before I went to bed without reading. What started off as a hobby had inevitably become my favourite habit.

And then, at the age of 11 I stumbled upon my first novel (Famous Five) at a relative’s house. Bored and always hungry for the written world, I just loved it! Now, this was it, I decided. I read my way through all 21 books of the series and then explored many more series’. Since then, it’s been a journey through countless books, my parents are still spending thousands a year (for ebooks strain my eyes a bit), and because of them I’ve been able to travel to fantastical places, meet amazing people and just learn so much! Strange, what wonders parenting can do, isn’t it?

I don’t mean to write much about my writing journey. But the one big step was starting off this blog, writing book reviews for two years, and then switching to my more personal work over the past one year. This month, I’ve started a book club as well. So, it’s been one long journey, I guess. Didn’t think a three year old’s loving a magazine would go such a long way. But, here we are! Fate, as they say!

 

Romanticizing Romance?

 

Romance, for I’m not going to use the word love here, that’s far more deep and pure. So, as I was saying, romance. Ah, yes! That romance which everyone seems to be seeking in their lives right now. What about it?

So many of our social conversations seem to revolve around it. The humour, the gossip, random flirting, all of it.

Now, the great question comes. What is it that has landed ‘romance’ such a mighty position in the societal paradigm?

Everywhere you go this topic comes to greet you, either directly, or else disguised up so that later you get the references. And if you don’t, you’re probably a kid, never mind.

All in all, what is it that makes the idea of romance so romantic? Maybe, it’s the media we consume. It’s all over it, anyways. The movies, series, songs, even many social media posts, feature a romantic angle. All around, everyone’s pitching the idea of romance as such a brilliant one. That’s probably because that is what the audience will buy.

So, the youth consuming all this content worships romance leading them to have mislead aims and aspirations because we wish for what we see.

Freshly into college, I was greeted by a few distasteful facts. First, almost everyone is looking for a ‘relationship’. Second, almost all social conversations revolve around ‘relationships’. Third, even if you’re not into it, people around you will make sure to ship you, or get you imaginarily involved, ‘just for fun’.

But, who said single people are just sadly traversing through their lives waiting for the one person to come and propose. No, sir! We’re pretty happy on our own! Also, on my own is not loneliness, it’s solitude.

And those flagbearers of romanticizing romance may as well continue on their path, you’ll find more companions, I assure you. Just don’t try and pull the ones on the other side. There’s still a concept called pure and unadulterated friendship.

I’m reminded of an excerpt I read, in ‘Tuesdays with Morrie’, it goes…

“Here’s what I mean by building your own little sub-culture, I don’t mean you disregard every rule of your community…The little things, I can obey. But the big things—how we think, what you value—those you must choose yourself. You can’t let anyone—or any society—determine those for you.”

So, the society pitches the idea of romanticizing romance which most of us do buy.

But, we do have, all along, the choice of not buying that culture. Romanticize the sunrays filtering down from the tree leaves, that one friendly kitten on the street, your early morning cuppa, your parents’ silly banters, your friend’s dumb actions, maybe even your professor’s early morning rant on ‘Irresponsible Youth’. Point is, you can romanticize anything, from the shape of the clouds to the tinde ki sabzi for dinner (alright, maybe not the last one), if you choose to! For the culture can change only if you refuse to buy it. Maybe we can create our own culture, what do you think?

P.S. The reason I’ve not used the word love instead of romance anywhere here, is that, love should not be confused with romance. Love is the purest feeling possible. And that, we know for sure, is not what’s being pitched.

On the Nature of Handwriting

 

Handwriting – one of the most personal assets an individual has. Right from childhood, it’s a much stressed upon factor with our parents and teachers constantly impressing upon us the need for a good, neat script.

But, why all this stress on handwriting?

Does your handwriting really communicate anything about you? Having grown up reading Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot, I was always fascinated reading them deduce the most subtle character traits from a person’s handwriting.

Growing up, even I am surprised to see how the handwriting of the people around me matches with their personality.

While a clear flowing hand communicates clarity of thought and expression, a cramped unclear style shows hesitancy and confusion. From the spacing, size, slant, pressure to even the formation of letters, gives away more about you than you believe.

Even though the handwritten world is growing smaller now, with almost all professional work shifting to digital typing, I feel writing by hand remains just as important. A clearer flow of thought goes while writing by hand. I find it almost pious the way our hand moves automatically over paper penning the words in our mind.

The therapeutic effect writing by hand has, sure deserves a special mention to itself. Writing by hand, instantly calms an agitated mind. Penning down those thoughts and emotions that would otherwise have been bottled up is a wonderful way of letting your inner self breathe.

And then, there’s the beauty the handwritten communicates. I, for one, find it one of the most beautiful forms of expression. The feelings handwritten notes and letters communicate are truly the purest and most overwhelming. To think that someone’s hand moved over the paper, with their mind spinning out precisely those words for you is one of the most beautiful feelings. For it is an eternal gift that we present in the form of a handwritten letter. It’s almost like a time capsule. Those words penned out in the individual’s own handwriting, with their own formation of letters. 

Almost like saying, “No matter the time that goes by, no matter the arguments and disagreements and fights we have in between, the moment you open this letter, after any length of time, I’ll be here, as silent and unmoving, presenting my love to you. Always!”

 

Rock it, babe!

 

Feminism, hmm…everyone’s a feminist right now, or they claim to be so at least. But is that truly it? On the outset, yes definitely!

But where does this show of feminism go when it comes to portrayal of women in movies, in all those songs objectifying women and describing their desirability(oh really!?) in the most sickening way? Women are made to sound like barbie dolls on display with their beauty as nothing but yet another dimension to their desirability index! On one hand, there are talks of feminism, and on the other, there are these awful movies of hyper-masculine characters which are actually doing well at the box-office.

Coming on to equal rights, who really decided that male rights and male standards of pay are the benchmark that women need to achieve? We can set our own benchmark.

We do hear, in the name of good parenting, sons being taught to respect girls. Daughters are not taught to respect boys. That comes off as most natural. Then, why does respecting girls not come off as natural? Why does it have to be taught?

That’s precisely where the problem begins. By introducing respecting women as something that needs to be taught, something to be proud of, that doesn’t come naturally. Only when it comes so naturally, that it doesn’t have to be taught, can we talk of being actual feminists!

And girls, it is time you get your head in the right place. How does a boy’s finding you attractive boost your confidence? It doesn’t. Nor does it definitely improve your self- worth. Your self respect is not defined by someone finding you desirable.

The fact that I am saying all this certainly does not convey that I am a misandrist. I believe in male rights as much as I do in women’s! Fake portrayals of equality is what I stand against.

Women do not need to be empowered. They are powerful enough. All that’s needed is for the world to (truly) recognize their strength and give them the space to shine.

It is high time, now!

Come on, my gurlls! Let’s show everyone what we are capable of when we start to show our strength. Go on, take a deep breath, and be ready to Rock the World! Cus, we’re not stopping, ladies!

 

Life @bcc

 

Ah, youth! As I write this piece, my latest favourite plays over my little Bluetooth speaker. This leads me to reflect upon these soft tendrils of music that communicate so much yet so subtly.

Even from childhood, first there were the lullabies, singing which our parents gently lulled us into sleep, then the poems, even the mathematical tables were part music.

Then there’s the cadence of nature. The pitter-patter of season’s first raindrops on the dusty windowsill, the gentle cooing of the pigeons, the early morning racket of the birds, the thundering of the waterfall and the gentle bubbling of a fresh water spring, the rustling of the green leaves overhead and the dry leaves crackling underfoot.

Music has a strange nature. A powerful tool, it communicates feelings stronger than words can. And it is sound that makes memories indelible. The sound of someone's trinkets early in the morning, the sound of the doodhwalla's cycle bringing a singing merry man, the sound of the radio blaring with the early morning prasar bharti, the sound of the lunchboxes being prepared by caring mommies and daddies, early morning background sounds that communicate normalcy, whose absence evokes a strange feeling of missing something yet being unable to place what it is.

A mutual love for a song is like a soul connection. The mutual enjoyment of something as subtle as music conveys a bond deeper than just the periphery.

And it is with some sounds that feelings are associated. The sound of the school bell still evokes that exhilaration of the classes being over, a loved one's voice, hearing which reassures the heart.

And when talking of sound, how can we not say anything about silence. The silence that proceeds a big moment, the awkward silence of forced conversations, the comfortable silence of beautiful company, the silence that accompanies the dawn, the pause before an answer, for often that one pause says more than the answer does, the silence of solitude, the most beautiful of all.

There’s a certain music to all of us too. The way you speak is music in itself, the way you express, the way you choose to live your life is the music that best expresses you. For each one of us is a beautiful song sung out to the world. Only the ones who truly love us understand and appreciate our music. But there’s no need to change your own unique song to be understood by all. The right people will certainly be able to hear you for YOU. For,

“You gotta make your own kind of music

Sing your own special song

Make your own kind of music

Even if nobody else sings along.”