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Showing posts from August, 2016

Of customs and celebrations

August marks the beginning of the festival euphoria in India. As a child, I loved the second half of the year. School days would be generously sprinkled with holidays, the break for Diwali being the longest. The festivities at home were the most-awaited ones. The days leading up to an important festival like Ganesh Chaturthi or Janmashtami would throw the household into a frenzy mode of procuring the best ingredients for a 5-course meal, flowers, and other sundry pooja material.

We kids, of course only eyed the goodies prepared by the grandma and mom, waiting to dig into them. We could not eat them without offering them first to the Lord, of course. Tempted, furtive glances would be thrown at the spread of dishes; a great mix of sweet and savouries. Every now and then I'd loiter into the kitchen and pooja room to see how far the pooja had progressed only so I could appease my growling tummy and impatient sweet tooth.

Wisps of memories cloud my mind filling it with a bright tapest…

Taking the next step

I've been blogging for more than five years now but only for the last couple of years, ever since the blogging community witnessed changes in the way bloggers projected and promoted their blogs, I've been wondering about my position and future.

While I loved to write, I was unnerved by the commitment, dedication, and aggression shown by the new-age, serious bloggers who are brand ambassadors of their blogs in a true sense. It was a new dimension for someone like me who had considered blogging akin to casually journaling random thoughts; solely as a form of catharsis and not really worrying about the impact of the written word on the reader/writer community.

As with any change, I found myself self-doubting, fraught with insecurities and consequently slipping into bouts of non-writing phases or half-hearted posts. I hesitated to go all out there and place myself under the harsh lights of scrutiny and competition. It meant I had to take stock and re-evaluate my present skills an…

When we met Bahubali!

Shravanabelagola lies prettily within a relaxing drive of approx. 180 km from Bangalore. That, it was just a short detour on our wayback from Sakleshpur, sealed the deal for us. I had no clue about the history of the place apart from the fact there was a temple dedicated to king Bahubali. I was intrigued to know more especially having seen the eye-catching visuals from the movie.

We broke off from the clean, wide highway somewhere after Hassan to meander along the narrow but well-laid roads through a small village. Green fields alternated between flashes of multi-hued dwellings on either sides of the road. Soon our destination, the temple, lay within our view.

The husband claimed that he had been to the shrine when he was very young. Apparently, he didn't remember the details quite well. Especially, the fact that we had to set upon an arduous climb to reach the said shrine that was perched on the top of a steep hill! 

As you can see, the climb was a test of our stamina and streng…

Of journeys, digressions and connections

This long weekend break was something that we, as a family, were looking forward to. It came after a long while for the husband who had had a particularly gruelling period at work. Yet, for all the pre-vacation excitement, I was a bit down on the preparation part. The last minute packing rush and a slight overstep of the time schedules as the day made me feel snappy. To add to this, I was supposed to keep one eye on the Google map and another on the road till we made the last exit from the city. (We prefer using the maps without the navigator to save us data and phone battery on long trips )

I generally have trouble correlating the screen map with the actual roadway in the city that never seem to match what with the burgeoning over bridges and one-ways. I'd rather look out of the window and try to freeze the landmarks in my head than pore over a small screen. The husband and I have had many an argument over my role as the secondary navigator but to no avail. And, to set the recor…

Life drama

Seeds we sow of verdant promises some do bloom, many wither Among uncertainties and skirmishes We falter and dither
In quest of grasping eternal essence We find our Selves shrinking Into shoes larger than our tiny presence Some lament, it's wishful thinking
Enacting roles in worldly show, we get caught red-handed for Fallacies we don’t care to amend Alas, it's also what we don't know
Our part on the stage is awhile Lives we play, all fragile A greater truth awaits, as we leave Stranger than the fiction we now believe
**** A round up of all the 7 BarAThon theme prompts into a bite-size philosophy. 
Day 7 theme prompt: Promise

Don't wish it away

I'm experiencing a contented glow around me for I just finished reading a lovely book. While the book will appeal to all ages, it is essentially directed at younglings on the threshold of adulthood. Nevertheless, it contained a world of wisdom that is just as well needed for some grown-ups.

I'm referring to 'Anne of the Green Gables'. In a providential turn of events, I managed to land up with an extra copy while intending to gift one to a young girl. I gladly kept it at home for the time when R would be old enough to read it. In the meantime, it beckoned to me. I had missed reading some classics as I grew up and I'm glad that this book came my way.

This is not a book review in any way. I simply want to share some of the many thoughts the story led me to mull over; in a manner that was part humorous, part tear-jerking and for the most part meditative.

As little kids, our minds jostle with so many beliefs; the imagination, the curiosity, the yearnings for little jo…

Tiny shoes

Asha felt the soft contours of the tiny shoes.The cute bow sewed over the baby pink woolen wooed her to defy superstitions this time. She smoothed her hand over her growing belly and shuddered inwardly with sour memories. Tears stung her as she thought of her stillborn ones and hastily moved to the next aisle.

A 55-word fiction for day 5 at BarAThon by Blog-A-Rhythm.

Theme Prompt: Tiny shoes

The stolen bead

One..two..three...Anju counted her precious beads carefully before putting it away in the safe place away from her younger sister Maya's eyes. Anju found it infuriating that Maya always eyed her stuff. Anju took one last look at her hiding place and returned tip-toeing to her bedroom to find Maya fast asleep.

Anju and Maya were a year apart; different as chalk and cheese. Anju was conscientious and serious while Maya was happy-go-lucky and a dreamer. The sisters got along for the most part but also squabbled bitterly when it came to their individual dispositions.

Early next morning, as Anju retrieved her possession, she let out a gasp of horror when she found a bead missing and looked pointedly at Maya who was busy decorating her doll's hair with similar looking beads.

"You stole mine, isn't it? You never had the color "pink" in your collection!" discerned Anju bitterly.

Each of the sisters had got a set of beads in different colors as a gift from a vi…

Fragile lives

Even the ferocious perish one day leaving behind bones and clay
Ensconced within a tough exterior we are, but, fragile lives
eager to bequeath a lasting memoir
Why, then, do we overlook the right,  lusting after power, position, might?
Let’s practice a life of grace, despite experiencing  undesirable snags we must brace
Rather than surrendering without a choice, Let’s exit quietly with poise

Missed chances

She was desolate since he preferred the overseas opportunity to marrying her.

She also knew that one failed chance could brighten another.

He never received that email and assumed his dream company did not prefer him.

She had wiped the last remains of the digital footprints, convinced that what you don't know cannot hurt you.

55-word fiction for the second day at the BarAThon

Theme prompt: what you don't know

Truth is stranger than fiction

Siddharth entered his grandpa's study. The sunlight filtered in through the translucent flowery drapes and fell on the large mahogany bookcase that was filled with his dadaji's favourite books. The study table was as tidy as he remembered from his childhood. As a curious kid, he'd often wander into the study only to be admonished by the old disciplinarian. Today, however, he had entered the deceased grandparent's sanctuary as a young adult to gather some old business files and in turn, revisit fond memories.

Siddharth Sahani was the sole heir to the famous Sahani group of companies. The young, capable and ambitious youth had heard famous stories about his successful grandfather Ashok Sahani; of how he built the empire from scratch and was such a genuine philanthropist despite being so successful. 
However, as a child, Siddharth loved to hear the stories told by his doting grandfather himself. One particular story always caught his fancy and he'd demand to hear …

There's something about travelling

I don't remember when I developed a love for travelling but for as long as I can remember now my wish has been to tour the world. And, not the touristy kind of tours that have you rush through more cities and towns than the days of travel itself; handholding at every step and prompting you on what to see, do, and sometimes even eat. Yes, I've done my fair share of these and they are not necessarily bad. Just that they don't let you journey, explore or discover as travel should.

I've dreamed of standing ankle deep in pristine snow, my hands outstretched to catch the soft flakes as they gently caress me and fall noiselessly on the ground. Of admiring towering mountains that proudly look up to the clear blue skies, their peaks fleeced with white clouds some of which cascade with a gentle breeze to kiss the green earth. Of meditating on the banks of glistening blue-green expanse of water that stretches up to the horizon and calls out to the migratory birds to pause and re…