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Friday, November 18, 2011

The born Nomad.

The born Nomad.




                                                     When I see my life-style and movements that I make over a year, I feel I am Nomadic.I live over a place habituate the people around, develop strong bonds and then move off to a new place or my previous places to start afresh. I feel I m a part of their life, their problems and their association even long after I have left the places. Today is one such moment. My stay in Bangalore this time was for a week. But i feel i lived ages for these countable days.  I got to the missing links that were created due to my absence for a period of time. Now am almost on the same wavelength but at the same moment its time for me to switch over my place. I hate this transition of mind that i have been doing over years although i have developed myself at this art. I somehow love my train journeys for this reason, as it gives me good length of time for this mental transition. I would come across people, places, languages, food,water and weather that would keep changing with every mile that i would make on the railway track. And then finally to my place in the morning at 5 am. A dawn into the place i will have to habituate for some more time. And stepping there i would feel that i had never been to Bangalore before, that i know no people in Bangalore. That is how I will have to shape my mind to adapt to the new place. If i think of Bangalore then I will never belong to this new place.

                                                     With every journey i make, i learn this art of secluding  myself from the previous attachments  and getting into the new ambit with complete zeal. As if i have never known anything better than the place I m into. I belong to the time I m into. I belong to the people I m with. And what I  leave behind may be ephemeral part of me, may be just a feeling or an experience. But when i resume back to the places I left, I apply the same ideology and become their for ever like i never left the place and never made new bonds with people other than them..I live life in parts. A part of life for family, a part of life for friends, a part of life for colleagues and a part for strangers whom I would meet on my everlasting journeys. Of these parts I adore the strangers the most. Though they have no previous strings with me yet they impart me so much that is actually intangible if i ever try to explain it.  As if the whole joy of life is just in making those journeys to reach your destination. I suppose the joy of finding your destination is bit eclipsed with the true joy that you get from making those exciting and unpredictable journeys.
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Tuesday, October 18, 2011

The Beyond Thought.



                                                 

                                     







A world of right and wrong. A world of being good and bad , a world of sin and deeds; I am in a search of a world, beyond being right or wrong. Beyond categories, beyond preferences and beyond moral validations."
                                         
                    
                                 When i see the stretching vast universe,the zillion stars above and the innumerable galaxies still unknown to mankind; I silently ask myself the existence of being right or wrong.being morally correct or incorrect.I long to do things that please me;To act free of bearing the guilt of being wrong or taking the stride for being right. Is there a world beyond these two benchmarks? If yes; I want to be there. Play there till sunset for just being myself and not for being the right me or the wrong me. Take my decisions or more aptly do my 'will' because decisions are things that you decide to do under the light of correctness and not by heart and I m in no mood to take decisions. To be in a world of no norms, no sun no moon; A time beyond time, a timeless time.

                                      For all these years, I have  done things that were either right or wrong; Sin or Divine. But do I have the option of crossing the ambit and reaching the euphoria of just beyond the moral tenets(rules) ? Its not often that i dream of this world but sometimes everyone wants to meet himself at a place where he is not right and where he is not wrong.He is just Himself and beyond you.

  continued....(30 Oct11)
                                   There have been times when I felt like stealing myself from me to be with self or for self. But every time i do that i bear the pain of not being available for someone who needs me more than I need myself. And then i give away myself to situations, people, circumstances and times. But at the end of the day I find someone the most deprived; and i feel like laughing because that someone is ME. Who will pamper you if you don't pamper yourself ?    Never deny yourself. Understand yourself that you need yourself more than others need you.
                                    Sometimes it is not just about being right.Its about being happy and complacent though being a little wrong. And when you gain that share of your desired happiness, you can again go out on a walk to buy happiness for others at your own cost.That is how the equilibrium is maintained and you can prolong your ability to be more right by being wrong sometimes but happy at the same time. 

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Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Taxi Driver



             








                                
It’s a story of a taxi driver whom I met while commuting from Bandra terminus to Kurla Railway Station in Mumbai (I still call it Bombay sometimes). After my train Ranakpur Express left me at Bandra   Terminus I was in a hurry to reach Kurla Railway Station for my onward journey to Bangalore (namma bengaluru) my home.  As I moved to the exit way on the Bandra terminus I saw him in a crowd vying for his customers amongst his peers. Unlike others he wasn’t loud and audacious. He was subtle, contend and cheerful. I made my way towards him. We settled for an appropriate fare and he parked my luggage with oblige. On a smooth day it’s a half an hour drive with moderate traffic as I know very less of Mumbai.  As we started moving from Bandra terminus he started with a conversation and asked me questions about my profession and salary. I briefly answered him and changed the topic as I normally do on such occasions.  I don’t know what vibe of mine convinced him to talk about his most treasured possessions, his daughter. He pointed at a photograph of a little girl, pasted at the dash board of his taxi car. It was of his daughter mun-mun. That is what he and his wife call her. With that mention he talked for the remaining journey. And I simply did not interrupt him because it fascinated me to the core. I m sure it would do to you as well. My narration would steal the magic of this monologue so I prefer to write in his own words to give you a vicarious experience.

                   "I am Qashif and I have a daughter 7 yrs old named Naaz (meaning pride in Urdu). But I and my wife call her munmun at home. She changed my life the day she was born. I and my wife see a million dreams for her when she has slept beside us. We know all of those dreams would come true as it has been for the past 7 years. She is the key to our happiness. An illustrated purpose for us to live and work hard. We spend a very little for our needs because all we want is a good education for Naaz. She is very intelligent and good at studies. She doesn't like toys and scared of big mustaches. We went to her school on her Annual day function and trust me all her teachers had words of appreciation for her. My wife almost had tears of pride and warm emotions. Its beautiful to have a daughter and dream for her and her future. One day she would grow up and become a doctor. Then we will never have to worry about diseases or falling sick. I leave for work after she has left for the school and come back by late evening. She waits for me and I love that. That’s why I never get late back home. She is an enough dream and a meaning in life.”

Suddenly I saw Lokmanya  Tilak Railway station Landmark and recovered from his story that almost rapt my attention and thought. I was moved by this man and the relationship that he shared with his folk. A little later he stopped at the entrance of the railway station and I left him but carried his hangover.

                                                     I loved his love for his daughter and the commitment that he had for her. Hardly do I find people in our country who are fully convinced with daughters and never dream of sons. Even the most educated people are examples of this plight. Amidst of all these people there is this Qashif who never measured her daughter on the scale of a girl or a boy but only showered fatherly love. Though he may not be educated enough to have this commendable attitude but he has still learnt his lessons right. He is no less than an inspiration to me and so many people around.  As I got down his taxi I did not exchange words of good bye, probably because we both were lost at different realms. Me in his love for his daughter and he obviously for reaching home on time to catch up with her.

 Months passed and it was again a similar situation. I was making the same journey after almost a year. As I got down at Bandra and searched for the Taxi suddenly my eyes searched for him unknowingly. And to my surprise he was there calling to me “ saab pehchana’’ ( do you remember me ?). Without a second thought I reached to him and boarded his taxi. There was no settlement of fare and we just continued from the time we left a year back. He instantly started with her latest photograph on the dash board and asked me “Sir ! Do you remember her ?” to which I politely replied – Naaz. How could I forget the only thing I know about him; his daughter Naaz. His pride was the same as before. She was doing great at studies and he had saved some money for her future education. He spoke to me about some child education plan and I was impressed by that. He loved his job because he loved his daughter and his job made him to realize the dreams that he had for her. This time when he parked his taxi near my destination railway station I had a chocolate to gift Naaz and I promptly gave it to Qashif to reach her finally. He was too moved by this gesture but not as much as I was moved by him a year back. He had a lot to teach all of us.   Qashif remains one of the most memorable persons I met on my journeys. I think Am blessed to travel all my life and learn from people and places. So wanted to share this experience and spread the message that god sent to us through a common man. I believe someday years after, I would meet Qashif again with all his dreams fulfilled. Someday all good will happen and all honest efforts will be answered.


  This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda
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Tuesday, February 8, 2011

My Secret place, my muse , my solace.



My Secret place,my muse,my solace !  How much i love to come to you ; When I am sad and broken and you revamp me to face it all again. I know we speak; I know places speak to people.

After my first post on this blog i was striving hard to hit with the next. But nothing was conclusive enough to be presented. And now when i was determined to sleep after my breakfast this thought did not permit me to. It kept on coming to my mind until i got up and settled to write. Though the place I am gonna talk about is far from my reach and i haven't been to it for a long long time but still my previous engagements with the place have been memorable and spiritual.


Its dedicated to that secret, eccentric place i was once romancing with.The place am talking about is few miles away from my modern campus where I was living once . A branched path from the main road led to this place. It was away from time and people. No one visited it anymore, no one remembered it any more...Though it was quite near to a moderately populated town but people ignored and never bothered about the place. So i felt it was virgin, untouched and more preserved. The place has some very strange facts and to mention those i have to change my voice, my speech.



Its to you i came once when i felt so alone and aloof. It was our first encounter and I instantly knew that i would prolong this association. I searched you as much as you searched me that day.I know this because i never knew about you, nobody ever talked about you but i reached you . That evening my bike took me to you over a cup of introspective conversation over a sunset. I was awestruck by your looks and belongings. You were old yet prospective. You were alone yet merry.You were pristine and preserved for me. Now when i recollect you i see the small pond in your heart with historic concrete steps over which I used to sit and talk to you. The water was calm with ripples emerging without the slightest disturbance over the surface of water. Behind me was an old abandoned temple with stone impressions of god unknown to the modern worshipers. Next to it was another identical temple. Two huge neem trees with birds perching on it. The running breeze swept you everyday and maintained your tidy. Because you were at a good height from near by places; you had the privilege to see and supervise everything around you.

                                I could have easily walked up to the downside town to know you more, to know your past. But i never did that, fearing that i would get twisted and misconceived details about you. So i preferred talking to you in our solitude meetings. I promise you spoke to me for all those times i came to you. You took all the negativity that i carried with me while coming to you. Your water always showed me the person I was. You made me pure from mind and soul. I always came to you alone because I understood that you did not like crowds. That is probably why you never attracted the adjacent town civilization to you. Though you were the best they had. I learned to be quite and composed in myself from you. I still adore the fact that you had everything in pairs. Two trees, two temples, two peacocks, birds in pairs, two sides (one leading to the highway another to the downside town). And to complete your theory of '' awesome twosome'' i always came alone because the second being you yourself.... awesome twosome. I understand that a conversation can only take place between two. So i came alone to complete your twosome. I know you have been there for ages and I am too young for you to be connected through ages. So i believe that you choose a few from different times to know you. For the time its me. Do you remember I used to carry a Walkman (music player) with me ? but never bothered to play it because I always preferred your humming musical breeze to the cacophony my player would create to your ambiance.The only loner was the plunging Sun, but before it could submerge into the horizon moon appeared to complete the awesome twosome. I know you wanted to say that nobody is alone and nobody would be left alone as the moon came before the sun passed away waiting for its counterpart.

To the world you were no one but to me you were a spiritual friend, a book of wisdom with no black letters. You never preached but always left to the imagination of others to ask you what they want and get solid knowledge as your cognizant replies. Am away from you now, miles and miles. I have not seen you for seasons but i know you are still there; untouched, unknown and uninviting all. But I will remember you always and seek help from you and your possessions. I know there must be some one new as your secret visitor. Yeah !  to complete your awesome twosome and you surely know how to get your time friend.... You have excelled at that art, the one you have been doing for ages to ages and times...

You are a worth muse by all standards......





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Wednesday, February 2, 2011

A mother to a new born child.



With your birth i was born as a mother.With your breath i sensed mine.I understood god s job in a nutshell as i created a life on earth. With you in my arms i feel so complete. Its only in the domain of a mother to give back earth a life. You are my child and i developed instant love for you the day doctors informed me that m making a life inside my womb. Its a uber magic and i did it for the first time... Thank you my child for making me magical and mystical.

Your father started loving me more on the very day he saw my twinkling eyes for the secret love I had for you. He caressed me n loved me far more. He has become more responsible and caring. In short he has become your sweetheart papa.For the first time we talked of you and you were purely ours. You were the first biological credential for our relationship and togetherness.I have undergone a sea change ever since i heard n felt your progressing presence. My priorities have changed from an ambitious lady to a loving dotting mother. I never knew this is all a woman wants in her life. I never knew this is how my mother would have felt holding me few pounds in her arms. So now i love my mother even more. And now when i see you i know i have become immortal. because after my life a part of my life would still live in you. I know you ll surely mock some of my traits and style knowingly or unknowingly... probably thats why everyone now calls me your mamma........ love you

Dedicated to all mamma s for making this world sustain life in continuation.
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