A new pen, correction, a new fountain pen rolling
over an old piece of paper, which happens to be an old diary. You have to do
it, to feel the pleasure. Recently I was gifted a fountain pen by my loving
husband and as it coincided with his birthday it assumed the status of ‘Return Gift’. My love
for fountain pens dates back to my school days and somehow the rosy splendour of writing diary. Being a diarist,
preserving expressions on this immortal piece of paper was the most rapacious
and never satisfied part of me. So revisiting the yesteryears through an old
diary, takes one down the foggy memory lane and makes relive the obscure
moments. As I open this oldest diary in possession the page here dates 7/8
April and the year printed as 1994. Wow! as I write on this old memoir, I am exhilarated and taken back to the
nostalgic times where I see myself as an fifteen year old, that year on this
day. Here I bring you the excerpts of
some old musings etched on this faded lines.
03rd Mar 94
I stand still, finding my pathway to peace
Dreaming of golden moments in a
tranquil sea
When my heart will be filled with compassion
And when I’ll be really passionate about passion
I know you’ll be surprised. A fifteen year old talking of tranquility and
peace but that was just a phase. Being raised in a strictly disciplinarian
family, asceticism came naturally to me and that’s kind of okay but what went
wrong was I was, may be too strained of that environment and felt scrupulously
drained of emotions which was certainly not okay for a girl of that age. But as it is said, the onset of youth characterized by sweet sixteen for a girl’s age, bring changes which can be unfathomable at times…
10th Aug
To my dreams,
You look so radiant as never before
Drenched in a snow white
glow as never before
I am blushing again as he adores
I am deep in love, tells me my core
Now does this require any explanation? I mean the transformation of
thoughts. Alright let’s leave that aside and talk about the realization of love
for one aged at sixteen. I guess most of us part of the sated generation have
indelible memories of our first crush, Love I won’t say now. Down with the love fever I write again
13th
Aug
Love is my strength when I am weak
Love is my voice when I can’t speak
Love is my sight when I can’t see
Love is the best I have in me
My world is better as I have love with
me
The red blushing face, drenched in love fervor of a young
girl of this age attracts attention instantly. The dancing hairs, sparkling eyes, the warmth
of the crimsoning cheek, the effervescent smile, they speak it all. I continued
to be in a world of my own which is so full of magical emotions of passion,
romance, tenderness and joy.
03rd Nov
‘O No! Not again’ she cries
An ecstasy was finished
She tried to resist but in a mist
A soul is frayed and it is repeated of late
Same agony prevails as it is aggravate
She rises up and falls down
To thousand chains when she is bound
Pathetic she lies, indolent she lies
Is that the way she dies?
‘No-No’ she cries again
But is she the same?
Uncannily she rises to tear the spell
Abated she rises to abate the hell
Nativity is reenacted but this time as hatred
Tintinnabulations fill the air
And tell the world ‘Be aware’
Agony is born and the disaster is on
To fill in the gaps, I had a ‘Black’ day in my life when sanctity of my
body and soul was attempted. I was lucky for having escaped the situation with
little hurt but it left me in a traumatic state. The stigma of having touched and
forced upon stays with me even today. Though the magnitude of violation of my
holiness was nothing as compared to what we often see these days, I am filled
with sense of outrage when I see myself so enveloped with such issues almost everyday. Being aware of such crimes increasing in the society, I feel I have an important role to play, as i am a mother of two sons and its my moral duty to groom my sons to respect the being of a woman. I have a task at hand to educate them so that not just they grow as sensitive human beings but also spread their values for the wellness of the world. Let us groom our sons before teaching other's daughters what to wear and how to behave.
A
diary is full of so many colours as it reflects life and its vividness. Try and
preserve your times, good or bad, to enjoy your today even tomorrow.
This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda
