The Year That It Was. Uff! Pretty Too Much.

Another year sets in and as it gives way to the newness in life, the illusion created over the years, in fact ever since we knew works well even today. While every new day is a beginning, the New Year thing has a defined charm attached to it, which refuses to fade away. What changes is the paradigm shift in our perspectives and aspirations. So without raising any further questions on the lineage of another upcoming year as I gaze on it from the sill of the soon slipping 2016, there’s a lot to brood about like always. Lessons learnt, drama unfolded, the parts we played, moments of sheer joy, pride, ecstasy and yes of course despair. My year going by holds bag of mixed emotions and madness like every year. I feel I am getting off a roller coaster ride which was fun to start with but very soon turned into the most terrible experience ever but culminating with a terrific swing. The blast of mix flavours in my mouth is still afresh and I can distinctively differentiate between them all. I shifted my anchor finding my strength within but at the same time found many new grounds to hook on, learn and lean on. Relating to the quotable quotes on life which define our present moment and emotional status is quite common on the social media platforms. We throw our life bare open like a book which we used to preserve earlier. Dawdling over our moments of despair and helplessness, philosophy becomes an easy subject to approach. But much easier said than done, their application is subject to Buddhahood whenever it strikes us all. And I had my share of sainthood too, preaching the wise words. It is so amazing. We grew up suppressing our deepest feeling and emotions but now we are so vocal about them and the popular sites keep providing us with more and more tools to express ourselves explicitly with a variety of emoticons. Although I never believed in connecting with someone in the virtual world but it happened this year and I lived a significant part of my year interacting with new friends, fellow artists online, competing with them and achieving a feat like NaNoWriMo.

The year started with a 12 week online workshop which was about unleashing our inner artist, an adaptation of this amazing book by Julia Cameron, ‘The Artist’s Way of Life’. This was one of the major events of this year which has not been talked about here. A lot of goodness came my way while being part of this amazing workshop where I connected with many fellow artists from different genres of artwork. We undertook this incredible journey of 12 weeks which spilled over to 16 weeks and we rediscovered the lost self as potent creators. Following the instructions of the author, we went through grilling session of numerous exercises and tasks but personally what did the magic was the concept of ‘morning pages’ which made us write at least 3 pages everyday like a journal. I have been a on and off diarist since my childhood but sitting down consistently to scribble 3 pages every single day was too much in the beginning. I felt blocked almost every day but slowly the spirit started flowing on those morning pages. It helped in many ways but the most effective part was the way it helped in declutter of thoughts. It effectively rested the chattering of mind. The changes were quite significant and another part which I completely loved was the idea of artist dates where I explored my interest in other forms of art work other than writing. And of course this workshop helped me connect with artists cross the globe.

But as soon as I flagged in after the workshop and also somewhere in between, life kept acting nasty and finally threw me into one of the most treacherous and tumultuous phases. It was almost life shattering. A little too personal to be shared here but it threw my life completely out of gear and I landed up on that chair from ‘Dear Zindagi’. There were days devoid of any joy. Life was filled with darkness, despair, loneliness and constant sadness. Losing someone dear in life can be painful but have you ever lost yourself amidst the wrecking of a personal loss? If you have, you will relate to it. It is as if you lose the very purpose of your life. I think as humans, leaning on to our loved ones comes naturally to us … at least to me it does and in the process I forget myself and make the other person the centre of my world, in fact all my world. But tonight I don’t want to write the saddest lines. In fact I want to rejoice at where the wave of this emotional tsunami has brought me … where I just want to bask in the glory of this newness in life and be grateful to the universe for shaking me up from a false dream. Life henceforth won’t be just about moving on but it has to get better and better every single day, every single moment.

And yes this is what I have been trying to stick on. Pulling myself up, making myself face new challenges, chasing them and winning. And the journey for past 4 months has been incredible and really exciting. I have spoken about them enough here. Like my successful blogathon, annual half marathon and of course my NaNoWriMo win. But apart from this I have quit the job which was not appealing me enough. One fine day I just got up with that feeling, ‘What are you doing? Why are you wasting your time and effort on something which you are not enjoying?’ and I called it quits with my job as a content writer and have started a journey which is at a nascent stage to share with you all but will do so as soon as I progress with it. The culminating days of this year have been a blast and I want to kiss the New Year with its passing energy.

There was a blogging prompt very recently which asked us to write about our most unpredictable life defining moment and I was even tempted to write but couldn’t find one. Once in school days I won the title of ‘The best sports girl of the year’ and that stays till date as the most unpredictable moment as I wasn’t expecting it that year but was of course not life defining.  Life has been a dreamy affair for me and about chasing them hard. Making every moment an unpredictable moment and I wish to continue doing that. I want to stay that incorrigible dreamer and a potent creator. So yes! Cheers to life and the New Year and a new me. Also wishing you all a very Happy and blessed New Year. Stay blessed… Stay Happy.

To The Month That It Was - November.

Racing through the blog marathon in the month of October this year, I actually got addicted to putting up a post every single day on my turf here but then came November, the month of National Novel Writing and I plunged into it without any preparation, strategy and know how. All I knew was that I have to keep hitting the keys around a single story (Ideally) which I thought could be driven into forming a novel. Although I knew about the concept earlier but 50K in a single month always appeared an audacious target to be taken up as a challenge. As the NaNoWriMo prompt kept flashing in front of me, I dismissed it like previous years. But on 31^st Oct, there I was on the NaNoWriMo official site registering for my debut novel to be dished out in its first draft. I was there because of motivation and pushing from my friends in the virtual space but I am so glad I listened to them and made a start somewhere. Otherwise I had become a champion in procrastination. I started this blog four years ago but since then haven’t been able to take the next big step beyond this portal. I have been sleeping with the story ideas but never visited them in the broad daylight.

So this past one month which had put blogging again to a back seat had been quite an eventful one and once again while life kept throwing lemons, I churned out lip smacking lemonade. I was travelling, was on vacations with my kids, nursing them as they both went down with Typhoid, training for my annual half marathon and yes writing for NaNoWriMo.

To begin with, the Half Marathon (ADHM 2016) was a terrific experience like last year. When I tell people that I am running a half marathon, the immediate response after that big, ‘WOW’ is ‘What’s your timing?’ Running marathons has become such a people’s event that in big cities it is one of the most trending things and a competitive affair too but for me it is still another way of pushing myself beyond my limits. I am not a great runner but my endeavour is to train my body and mind in such a way that not only I finish comfortably without any injury but also recover fast. So this time I could achieve both my aims. Even my timings could have been better had I not got bogged down with knee and back pain but as I always say, ‘Every finish deserves a celebration.’ Here’s sharing my happiness after the touchdown and for my kids, they still think that the medal was for some ranking in the run because medal for a mere finish is beyond their perception. But yeah, the feeling is enormous and synonymous to a win.

And all this while, the keying was lacking behind, but then suddenly the Indian WriMos group was bombarded by an early finish. As the novel can be validated anytime after 20^th of November, the winning certificates starting pouring in and that is when the tempo actually picked up. The tapping became harder, the recorded WC(Word Count) per hour per day kept soaring high each day. The word sprints we did at the Indian WriMo group were amazing. Trying but pushing us closer to our win every day. Every single word counted and just when I thought that the finish is near and the target achievable, pop came up the challenge of kids falling ill and that too both of them together. With me playing the role of a single mom, the writing pace was thrown out of gear and when I rejoined the race, the average WC of 4-5K/day glared back mockingly right on my face. But then being so close to the finish, giving up would have been really meek. The final push came with pulling 10K in two days, finishing the mark of 50K a day prior. Yes! I became a NaNoWriMo winner in my first attempt and this month of non-stop writing left me in a mixed emotions ranging from an exhaustive mental state to that of pure ecstasy. With reddened eyes (strained and overwhelmed) when I looked at my winner certificate, I was stunned. I could not believe that I actually did it. Sharing another proud moment from the month.

Life is all about pushing yourself to bring out the best in you. When you actually achieve the feat, it makes you realize how far you have reached fueling your dream and that impossible is nothing. You can either buckle down under pressure or outshine yourself. The choice is entirely yours. Stop brooding over why you can’t achieve what you dare. Instead give it all of you to win that smile.

KEEP DARING

My new mantra and the New Year resolution too. Be the CEO of your life and live it not just less ordinary but extraordinary.

Celebrating the 20K

Hi friends. I haven’t actually blogged this year. Life still continues to be a roller coaster ride. I have been busy doing a lot of varied things this year and have some big plans for the rest of the year as well (the major in this list is my annual half marathon and the preparations are in full swing). I wrote some long short stories, have been writing for the web, did an online workshop to unleash the artist within, experimented with other forms of art, did a few artist dates with myself, got into writing the daily journal and now have been struggling with the status of a forced single mother of two cute brats. I kept planning and postponing a blogathon all this while to kick myself writing here, never realizing that the year is just slipping by. I was almost sure that if I am not writing, obviously there is no one reading the pages here but to my surprise, the viewership on the blog has been consistent with few major peaks as well. This is a special gratitude post for all my silent and anonymous readers who have been dedicatedly showing on my turf.

So why am I writing today? Because I returned after a long time only to be pleasantly surprised that the page view of my blog has crossed another milestone. It feels special today because although at very slow pace but my blog has touched the 20K mark. A BIG THANK YOU to all my readers till date who have helped me achieve this feat. Getting into the blogging world opened new paradigm of life for me and the journey has been splendid. I haven’t written much but have been reading a lot. 68 posts in a span of 3 years is not a good score but I enjoyed connecting with other fellas in the blogging world which was entirely new to me. I got introduced to blogging because I stumbled upon ‘Life is what you make it’ by Preeti Shenoy and got absolutely smitten by the author, her writing style which kept me hooked on till the end of the book and her attitude towards life. Visiting her blog every morning became a part of my life which is when I was drawn towards this entire world of blogging. I started following more blogs and as I always had a little writer inside me too, I donned this new identity in my life. I was going through a rough patch in my life when I started writing here and it did help tremendously in overcoming the identity crisis which I was facing at that point of time. The memories are still vivid of how my first post came up. So with fond memories of inception of this part of my life and also wishing myself luck for longer innings, I dedicate this post to Preeti Shenoy, my inspiration in blogging and hope that I show here more often.

Well, I have been planning for long to do a blog marathon and the time just looks perfect for that. So I announce a blog marathon in the month of October and hope to offer you some interesting reads in this season. 

When dreams won't let you sleep

One certainly needs to be the destiny’s child to have a smooth sail over the tumultuous facets of life, which I never was and to increase the severities, I received no emotional back up from the home front. But I guess, the tougher things get for me every time, stronger it makes me and yes more determined which transforms it into a battle with life. Life which keeps presenting hurdles to pin me down but I keep moving ahead in pursuit of my dreams. It happens always, only sometimes the tussles are short lived and at times they continue with difficulties at each step but one thing is common, all my dreams have made me struggle. The more I struggle, the sweeter the achievement becomes. At times my deep inner self questions my being for being so different, but I proudly rub it off, for being uncommon I have always loved and this is the story of one such offbeat chase which shaped me for my entire life, in fact became my way of life thereafter.

Being in uniform had always been a fantasy, but it took the shape of an intense desire when I wore it for the first time during my NCC days. At home, indulgence into any non academic activity was always discouraged but this one received a nod due to the various career benefits it offered to a ‘C’ certificate holder. But when I bagged the opportunity to represent my state in the RD parade camp in New Delhi, it wasn’t that easy. The age old formula worked even this time when my instructors and friends managed convincing my parents. It was a different flight altogether which livened up my dreams. My first real life encounter with the men in olive greens accentuated the madness which was much beyond the charm of the uniform. And I came home with a dream embedded in me, to be an Army officer.

There are dreams which won’t let you sleep and this one entirely took it from me. The obsession had possessed me but it required courage to leave a cushioned and well laid out life to the rigours of becoming a soldier. I was doing my post graduation in computer application, working part-time as a computer instructor, pursuing the DOEACC ‘A’ certification course and in between sneaking out time for another passion of mine, dancing. Life was moving on a perfectly designed schedule when I realized that this is not where I belong to. My secret desire had transformed into my fixation after my exposure to the army life in RD camp but somehow could not gather enough strength to announce it to my folks at home. I had always made choices which were different from others but this one surely was the biggest of them all. But I was not able to give up on it and it started affecting my performance in the studies and work, both. I secretly filled in the application for the Short Service Commission for women officers but couldn’t keep it under wraps for a long time as finally I had to go to face the SSB (Service Selection Board). Boys were known to opt for the life of an Army man but for girls it still was a ‘hush hush’ affair. This was a battle which I had to fight alone and when I broke the news at home, surprisingly the response was quite unexpected. My father believed that I will never be able to clear SSB and my aspiration will die its own natural death as all the known boys from friends and family came back home on the very first day of the board, not being able to clear even the screening. A similar fate was expected for me but I stunned everybody by managing a clear win the first day. There was inexplicable silence on the phone when I announced that I will be staying for the interview, a little longer. And thereafter the grilling session for the next few days which judged us on the various psychological, analytical and behavioural aspects was a learning experience in itself as it helped me to know myself in many unexplored ways. It sealed my life forever, and by the end of it I was sure of my decision but the result was yet to be out. On the result day, some hundred plus of us were seated in a hall where the judgment was to be declared. I was shaking with nervousness and counting all religious names. Four chest numbers were announced, my heart was racing with supersonic speed, hoping for a miracle as what we heard that generally four were selected in a batch and the mike creaked with one more which was not mine. By this time I had edged on the brink of the chair and with the last name shook my head. I didn’t have the courage to look around and see the officers moving out after declaring the results and then I heard, “The last one to make it in this batch is”. The number was announced but as if my ears were numb and refused to hear when the officer repeated the number as no one stood after the first calling out. The girl sitting ahead of me turned back and shook my desk, “Hello, your number is being called, stand up”. “Yes” I shouted and stood there confirming my details as the officer called them out one by one. Tears rolled down my eyes and I stood there still in the most pleasant surprise ever. Six selections in one batch! I couldn't believe it. Some girls were crying because they had not made it but mine were tears of happiness. My biggest dream had come true but even a bigger task at hand was to break the news at home. I was selected but there were choices to be made which would have lead me to different directions altogether and I did make one by opting to don the olive greens and make it the colour of my life in the days to come. I did choose to live my dream for next ten years which undoubtedly remain as the best decade of my life.

Home front? Oh! That was even a bigger success as my parents became so proud of me on clearing the SSB. No one from my family had ever been able to do that and in fact there were men in junior ranks but beginning of officer cadre was going to be marked by me. By the time I reached home, my success story had been flaunted all over the clan. If you desire something deeply, the universe conspires to make it happen. In my case, my family, my universe came around to join me in my most glorified win.

Me with my parents on the day of commissioning. A proud moment indeed. 

This post has been written for the Week end prompt of Blogadda. ‘I was inspired to follow my dreams’ 

Day 31. The Blog Marathon journey ends.

So a month long journey here comes to an end. The challenge of doing a Blog Marathon has been met successfully. It did actually put my writing to a grill and pulled me to my desk every day. Although there were days when it became just difficult to post a creative content, I am glad something did show up on the blog and definitely my readers pulled me through. So a huge thanks for doing that, specially the consistent ones. It would not have been possible without your support. Creativity cannot be bound in timeliness but had to do it at times when I met self made deadlines. All through the month I attempted offering a variety of writing, attempting different genres and it gave me an unbound kick. Ratings may or may not have implications but here comes the listings for the Blog Marathon.

Most widely read post was The Ill fated fated Rajdhani Express and Breakfast, the least. But I am hoping the latter will do better and its credentials are attributed to being a recent post. However my personal favourite in all were. (Sorry can't choose one)

The Rising of Ilaa (Illustrated in three parts). Catch it up here

Visit to Mc leodganj. 

Reminising the by gone times.

The fire of desire.

And there should be some critcism too, so I think my worst attempt was the Love Blues series.

So those of you who could not catch up the action earlier, it gets all laid out for you. Will see you again soon with more action here on this space. Happy reading.

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Day 23. Reminiscing the by gone times.

It seems like an era has passed by. One day in an year which makes me acknowledge the changing phases of life is Rakshabandhan. Every year it brings back the pain of separation from my brothers with whom I have grown up and shared those innocent and sinless years. The ingenuous life that we had, was completely guilt-free and saw our free spirits in true sense. When I look back and see, I remember that life did not race then as it does now. It shaped our inner self with subtle but enriching playfulness which alone was copious and unfathomable. Those initial years of our life which we spend in the company of our siblings are the moments which lay deep in us and are a source of indelible warmth and comfort. Sometimes I wonder whether my kids are getting touched upon the pleasures of those subtle feelings or not? Feelings which have the strong capability to shape once's emotional  demeanor. I at times feel like slowing the stride of the fast treading life for my kids so that they enjoy their childhood to the fullest and absorb the splendid extravaganza of these times. 

For me, the online shopping of Rakhi is just done which brings back the nostalgia of spending the festival together with my brothers. Although I send my pleasantries in the virtual world, the emotions attached are as real as they can be. This festival of love reminisces the by gone times and deep in those thoughts I express.

Wish you all a very happy Rakshabandhan too. Stay connected, stay blessed.

Day 8, Visit to Mc Leodganj

Friends, it’s day 8 and there’s hardly any actual writing going on this desk today. I had a great great girls day out to Dharamshala and Mcleod Ganj today. And while I was looking at the amazing pictures I thought of giving you also the feel of splurge. It was a fun trip with all the girlie mastiee topped with a generous dose of mystifying natural beauty. Mountains, of course, have been ever alluring with all its magnificence. But it looks heavenly on a perfect misty weather and I am still reverberating in its madness. We had one incredible day with the best of everything. Have a look.

                                                   
                                                  Heading towards the destination

                       
                          Practically crossed over a landslide  (The Bahubalis in the making)

                           Due to the incessant rainfall there were waterfalls all the way

                                      Mcleod Ganj is predominantly a buddhist inhabitat

                                  Ladies ... of course we can't do without shopping

                                        Mc llo. The oldest eatery at Mcleod Ganj

                                                    Bhel ... wanna have some

                                                            The gang of girls

The show stopper of the day. Bhagsung waterfall. A place to be. It seems another world altogether amidst descended clouds 

                                    And it was great to be here. So distressing.

So why should boys have all the fun? 

Dar Ke Aage Hi Jeet Hai ...

 I have given ten years of my life to the gallant Indian Army and the service of the nation, donning the olive greens, which to date has been the best colour which suited me. But being in the Army does not mean that army men don’t have fear in their life. Big or small, at some point of life or the other we face known and unknown fears in life. We can either keep avoiding it through our entire life, or get up, push them behind and tame them forever. The choice is all yours.

At times we have fears which we fend off till they stand against us, life size tall, looking straight into eyes, inviting for a bout of life. It is up to us, whether we stare and roar back to diminish them eternally or look down, show our back and tell ourself that we will fight next time when we are more prepared. Believe me that day never comes, the fear stays with us like a stigma and reassures its existence on top of us, lifelong ahead. If you have a fear of height, you will conquer it only when you jump off that cliff, if you have a fear of water, you will sail through only when go in for a splash and make your way through those waves of life, if you have fear of public speaking, you will live with it until and unless, you stand on that podium, look into the eyes of your audience and address. So fears can be of various kinds which once you defeat, it will reassure you of your own capabilities and strength. I had fears in life which I faced and defeated to emerge as a winner. Here I share one with you.

Joining Army as a woman officer was considered a taboo when I joined forces almost 12 years back. It was a man’s world, then, it still is. Having a company of boys and being a tomboy was a different thing and leading tall, robust men of almost your father’s age was a different ball game all together. Although getting trained in the academy we get a fair taste of what lies ahead in life but facing things in real life, it did make me feel a bit weak in my knees. The incident I am talking about, dates back to Sep 2002. It was the same month when my shoulders became heavier with the responsibilities of serving the nation in the form of two brassy stars. The world never seemed brighter before the shine of these two adorned my very own shoulders. When I got commissioned in the Army, I got placed on the forefronts of our nation where my unit was then deployed in field conditions. That was the first time in my life, I realized why the woman in the Army was considered surprisal. In field conditions we stayed in tents and in the entire spread of the unit, and horde of almost 200 – 300 men I was the only female. The first look around, made my head spinning. It was certainly a man’s world. The entire view in front of my eyes with the soldiers busy with their routine work, spread around me, kept revolving for a few minutes before I held myself. Well, that was just the first day and the fear of being surrounded by so many men and a distant  voice with just echoing ‘what if?’ kept haunting me with me brushing off the probabilities every time. And the biggest one came in the evening when I told by my senior officer that I have to go for the guard check as a duty officer at 2 O’clock at night along with the duty JCO (Junior Commissioned Officer). Till now I was only battling the awkwardness of being the only lady in this soldierly world and pulling myself up, but this one really hit me hard. The fear of moving out at that hour with a not known man, that too in a hostile terrain and going on armed posts for guard check shivered me. Thousands of thoughts raced my mind every second and I kept striking them and pulling myself out of my imaginative world. So there was a task at hand, which was to be done and more importantly, there was a fear which had to be defeated. I gathered up myself, assumed myself in the combat fit, put on the boots, picked up my arms and told myself that I fought against all odds to be here. This is where my today lies which is responsible for the tomorrow of my nation. I reassured myself to believe in the integrity of the forces, wore my helmet and kicked myself out of my tent. My duty JCO was ready outside and we went ahead with the task assigned. We went around in the darkness, post to post checking the alertness of the guards. Getting acclaimed on every post, receiving those sautés and that proud calling back of ‘Jai Hind’ filled me with a sense of pride and immense boost of energy which kept me driving for the rest of my years in the forces.

[Image from my personal album]

So it's all about how you tackle your fear, rise above and defeat it. The rest is like a story what you are reading right now.

This post is written as  Rise above fear for campaign as part of Happy hours on Indiblogger. Here's the new, awe inspiring video of Mountain Dew re-establishing faith in self and courage.

Tunes of nature

We in the forces can only have such a treat of being woken up by the melodious tunes of a pipe band. So my house here in the cantonment, happens to be located at a place which falls in the route for the daily drill practice of the band. Wherein they play while marching in a columnar fashion. But what made my day, was the tune they played today. It is of one of the most popular songs from the hills of Kumaun, ‘Bedu Pako Bar Masa’. Although I am the breed of one of those Non Resident Kumaunis , we had quite a big community in Lucknow, where I lived the early years of my life. The morning tunes today, took me back to the memories of our gatherings back home, where the folk songs from the mountains of now known as Uttarakhand reverberated. The music transpired by the tunes of nature, reflected the purity of soul of the simple people of this region. Aptly known as ‘Devbhumi’, the tussock of faith and devotion has been home to innumerous sages and seekers of tranquility since ages. Though born and brought up in Lucknow, I have grown in the environs of the protected culture of poorvanchal. As the marching troops passed by, the fading euphony lifted the mist of the by gone times and a serene timelessness prevailed. Running down the brown hills enveloped in the dried pine leaves, me and my brother stopping in between to shout our names used to get thrilled to hear them echo back. Snuggled between the tall mountains of Bageshwar, there somewhere amidst the calm and pure serenity of nature, away from the eccentric city life, was my father’s village, ‘Kuchauli’. Located in a valley, the village was surrounded by the ethereal beauty of kumaon hills. Tall pine and deodar trees swaying to the melodies of cool and fresh mountain breeze with the majestic view of the snow caped great Himalayas in far vicinity, the place was most loved destination for our summer holidays. Enjoying the joys of simple living we used to immerse ourselves in the unspoilt routines of village life. Living in the old but very traditional houses with beautiful exteriors carved in wood, the feel was just perfect for a relaxed time rediscovering the roots of our existence. The remote rural life, rich in culture and drenched in simplicity reflected in the kind hearted people of the village. Donning their customary dresses, the smiling faces of the 'pahari' ladies welcomed every passing by traveler. The sumptuous meal cooked on the slow wooden flames out of the muddy stove made it taste the best ever in the world. The cold water of the mountain streams, the step farming on the hills, the absolutely stunning clear night skies, all this and much more bundled up together, made this place a perfect antidote to the atrocities of this frenetic world. Drawn back from the yesteryear to this day again with the sweet voice of my younger one, the memories singing the tunes of nature which looked so far, though farther in the time lane are actually farthest in real time as the village worst hit by the brain drain stays abandoned by the young generation. An abode becomes beautiful when it has such people living there but here the village had lost its charm when I visited it three years ago as it lay deserted with people moving out in search of higher education and job. Moving ahead in life is good but if villages get desolated like this and we move away from our genesis then what are we preserving for our future?

SNAP SHOTS FROM A VILLAGE KNOWN AS KUCHAULI

Our ancestral house amidst the beautiful Pine trees

The village settled in the mystic valley 

The picturesque scene from the hills around

Taking break from work ladies enjoying the morning sun 

The roads emerging from nowhere

The village did’nt had a motorable road even uptill three years back

The beautifully carved wooden doors

That’s my son sneaking out of the beautiful window

The ever smiling faces of pahari ladies

The majestic view of the Great Himalayan ranges

                                        

                                            

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.

Rumblings of Yesteryears

      

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.

03^rd 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…

10^th 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

13^th 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.

03^rd 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

Write Over the Weekend theme for this week

This week your post should have five different colours acting as adjectives for five important words, around which your write-up revolves.

My tryst with every Biker's delight – The Royal Enfield

As an amateur blogger, I have been on a desperate lookout for opportunities and inspirations to write. And as charity begins from home, I promised my darling husband to write a post on his biggest obsession, his third love after (i assume) his lovely wife (just being modest :)) and of course his profession, The 'ROYAL ENFIELD'. In desi bhasha 'BULTT' as my husband pronounces it and also makes my kids say so. So here I go to write few words on the legacy of this every biker's delight. 

After years of waiting for the right time and appropriate financial status, the moment finally arrived. Adi (as he is mostly known as), my hubby became the proud owner of a brand new model of 350cc Thunderbird and also the first to own in the entire city. Have a look at the majestic royalty.

                                       

I had never experienced the kick of owning an exclusive piece until that day when the majestic black beauty possessed undivided by Adi, hit the roads for the first time. The subtle 'dhuk dhuk' of the newbie charmed the tarmac and took the new world with its appealing looks. Although black in any form is always beautiful but believe me this colour never entranced better. The distinctive style statement enhanced by the sparkling LED tail lights made the envious heads turn on the road. And to top it all the dazzling head lamps announced its incoming the royal way. It certainly made Adi feel ‘King of the world’ truly the filmi ishtyle. Every stop at the signals left the onlookers dazed in a complete state of awe. The inflated sense of pride made the new bike the most proud possession and latest crush overnight. Though caught in covetous fever, I loved the joy on his face when he donned the modern classic. Every morning, cleaning the bike became more of a ritual and my neighbors would invariably pass a smirk ‘stop cleaning it so vigorously or soon it will give away its colour’. Even I used to ride bikes but his unparalleled passion for the new bike was far beyond me. May be it was more of ‘Men and their cars’ syndrome redefined as ‘Adi and his bike’ syndrome. Such was the level of possessiveness. Anyways, it was okay till the time it didn't cross me.

Bogged down with the too much of this ‘bultt’ fervor, I decided to have a firsthand experience of the delight of riding one. Quite confident of my biking skills I asked for the keys from my husband, “Let us go on a ride and this time let me drive you. Its been a while you got your new bike and surprisingly I haven't motored it as yet.” “Some other time sweetie. Its still so new”. He couldn't have been worse on denying me. I would have appreciated a more sober refusal. “Possessive haan”? I tried to pull up my offended self. But naah! it did’nt make the things better as his next statement worsened the fresh wound, “Look, I know you have been riding bikes but riding a bullet is a different game altogether”. Quite unaware of what his words were doing to me, he quickly added, “but if you really want a feel of this beauty, we’ll do some practice sessions before you actually go zip, zap, zoom”. Awe !! this last hit was really bad. I felt abused literally. “I don’t believe its you who’s talking this Adi! Disgusting. Have you buried the memories when you slipped on me because I used to drive your bike and that too really well ?”. “Yeah I do remember sweetheart, but here we are talking about The Bullet”. Fuming with anger I stormed out of the room as I realized there is no point taking this discussion further. “I will have to prove myself”, the biker in me spoke “and I will do it by driving his bike even if he doesn't agree. Even if he doesn't know”. A vicious pleasure gripped me all over. In the evening after dinner, when Adi and kids were engrossed in having their daily dose from the idiot box, I slipped out with the bike keys. I realized that I will have to drag the bike out to some distance so that Adi doesn't notice my venturing out with his new found love. A date with hubby’s love. The mere thought of it rippled me with unbound rush of adrenaline. But soon the happiness started fading away as dragging the heavy metallica was draining me out. But then I reminded myself of the afternoon punches and motivated to pull the heavy thing just some more distance away. Carting the machine I was already getting the feel of the caliber in question and I reassured myself of that. After reaching a convincing spot I overpowered the monster and made a self push start. For a second, thoughts about inquiring about the basics regarding the gear sequence flashed my mind but already out on the mission defiance, shrugged them off immediately. So this was the way the much talked about tryst with every biker’s delight started. Careful about handling this touchy object of pleasure, I played safe and googled on my phone about the rules of the game. Armed with the required info I launched. I flip flopped the mundane regular streets to make way towards the nearest highway.  Riding at a comfortable speed the smoothness of the ride was becoming impressive. The elusive ride with a thumping sound of vroom was already taking my heart away. The king of Indian roads maneuvered like one with a hold of the ring like none else and also made the biker feel like one as the posture was so tycoonic. The immense power made me also fall to the lovely beauty and I smiled thinking of Adi and his emotions for it. Again the response of the fellow bikers and the envied looks which were coupled with a surprise to see a lady riding bullet gave a never before high. But the reactions also made me think why biking is considered such a male domain kinda stuff. Anyways, I drove and drove and cherished every moment of it. As Adi says, a bullet ride is best enjoyed at a relaxed pace and not by speeding up. I totally agreed. The land cruiser left me in a state of trance which gripped me all over and I just wanted to go on but then looked at the watch to realize that it was already past an hour I left home. I should have been worried about getting my secret drive known to everybody but after taming this beast there was no fear but a sense of pride. Ready to take a U turn as a I stopped at the next cut of the divider, my eyes widened to see a familiar car at the far end of the road. There wasn't much traffic at the road but being careful of the vehicles passing by I, waited for the car to come near. My jaw almost dropped to see it nearing. Adi with the kiddos in the car was joining me at the junction. It was a mixed feeling of fear and excitement. Fear of having ventured out secretively and excitement of having done it successfully. Caught in blended emotions I fluxed out of the crossing and moved to the other end of the road to stop and waited for my family to join in. And then the car came and stopped in front of me. My kids jetted out of the car and hugged me fondly. “Mama you drove papa’s Bultt !!”. The awestruck faces of my li’l ones unnerved me a bit. And then as Adi joined I was again speechless. “So you took the bike against my wishes?” There was a killing silence. My face all red it appeared as if it was enveloped in fumes. My hands and feet drenched in sweat. Holding the kids tight my heart went berserk, pounding at a riotous rate. Dumbfounded in a self created situation, I wanted to sit in a time machine and take a reverse route to home but nothing of the sort was going to happen. I couldn't take my head up and look into his eyes. I could feel his eyes tearing me apart with anger. Just on the verge of a nervous breakdown I heard my elder one breaking into laughter. Immediately joined by younger champ, I was stunned at what was happening in front of me. And then I gathered courage to look at Adi who was making futile attempts at controlling his chuckling laughter. I was going mad looking at the three men bustling with belly aching 'He Haw' and needed an explanation right now but couldn't gather the courage to ask for one. Realising its time to ease me out Adi spoke. “I saw you moving out with the helmet. Although I was fuming with exasperation, decided against stopping you and followed you with the kiddos. My anger started dying down as I saw you driving and mastering my bike. I was so wrong! You are an excellent biker who can drive a bullet too.” My tears which I was holding on to, all this while, no longer listened to me and rushed down to cool off my heated cheeks and I gave myself to the open arms of Adi who embraced me fondly along with the kids. “Now lets move back before the whole traffic stops to have a dekho at our family reunion”, he smiled and I wiped off my tears.

After that eventful nightout, biking together is a regular feature with us where Adi gladly agrees to switch roles. Days passed and we biked happily ever after. 

                               

This was taken on one such drive. Although face all covered its meeeeeeeee.