As skies flooded the nights arms with clouds so full of dreams. The morning sun pierced the night at dawn with rays that resembled screams. Winter air revenged the moment with a crisp & arid breeze. Dew kissed the brown earth to black - a relation deceased.
So this ones a lift from a friends post who writes way better and more often than me.
Her post made me think of attempting the same on what defines the word.
So what is it to me?
- Watching a river float a leaf as it runs past until the leaf runs out of sight
- Sitting alone in a corner of the house with a book in dead silence
- Watching dust particles bath and glow in sunlight as it peers through the cracks in a window
- By standing and watching a joy wave ride through a bunch of special people
- Look at swallows at dusk and imagine them to be planes
- Watching strangers greet one another at airports
- Driving in the rain on an open highway
- Watching my sisters happy and then watching them try to conceal the emotion
- A drink with Dad
- Also, being his caddie on the course
- Perfect barbecue sauce & the family savoring it up
- A successful snake rescue
- Writing letters and this blog
- Receiving a call from a long lost friend
- Genuine Thank You's
- Hardbound classics
Sat on the edge of your bed at night and see life outside float by or even on the edge of a busy highway in a stationary car examined the whisps of air float from your mouth and condense on the pane of glass between you and the world outside.
Seen shadows of passing cars form a northern lights like visual on your bedroom walls and imagined being there tucked under the night sky, motionless in a tent or a sleeping bag.
Waited with hours to spare at your window sill framing your binoculars at the nest of a weaver bird you spotted in your moments of foolhardiness and gazed through them as noon turned to night.
Stared at sand trickle through an hourglass and imagined yourself on the dunes of the Thar race against the wind and quick sand beneath your feet to get to its top and done that in person too.
So a friend shared a list that made me weep and howl for the lack of check marks I could have put against it. None the less. For the benefit of those in Oman and nations even further away, here is a list of places that I need to check in soon.
In random order. Peeli Dal at Shakahari, Chawri BazarFish Fry at Ganesh, Karol Bagh (
Gurudwara Chowk)Bedmi Aloo near Naugarha,
Chandni ChowkAloo Tikki at Natraj Cafe,
Chandni ChowkPapri Chaat outside UPSC
Building, Shahjahan RoadKakori Kebabs at Aap Ki Khatir,
Khan MarketCream Chicken Kebabs at Salim's,
Khan MarketChicken Tikka Rolls at Khan
Chacha, Khan MarketChicken Changezi at Chicken
Planet, Tyre Market, Near FilmistanPoori Aloo of Ramchand, Chhota
Bazar, ShahdaraChhole Bhature at Odeon Sweets,
Bhagat Singh Marg, Gole MarketMutton Dish at Ashok Meat Dhaba,
Shop No. 42, Subhash Chowk, Sadar BazarCP Chicken Pepper Steak at
United Coffee House, E- Block, Inner CircleDal Meat at Embassy, D- Block,
Inner CircleTomato Fish at Kwality, Regal
A post after nearly a month or more. Continuing the promise I made to write about encounters over meals, this one gets me nearly close to the one a month target I set for myself in Jan. The past encounters listed here and here can be read if anyone missed the last two.
The two people I managed to get supper and brunch with happen to be known people. However, the amount people tell you about themselves over a meal can be a bit more than what they would normally do. Bro - No one can call her that although she would call anyone and everyone the same faster than you can say.... A chance decision of a quick bite in the last few months she would say she has at work (and still not leave) made this dinner almost a quick dash. It was fun at this place opp IIT Delhi at a cafe covered in post it notes. Makes for an excellent disguise for flaking walls. You loose track where the wall was bad and where it had the post its. The meal was fun. She spoke, I listened. That is always how its been and ho…
Then there were those nights. Long cold ones.
My sister and I would camp on top of our terrace.
Climb a 10 by 6 meter long water tank by measure of an old rusty ladder.
Cold January winter wind would blow away the chance for any fleeting insect to interrupt our conversations. We did nothing but lay back on our backs immune to the cold concrete beneath us gazing at stars as if each narrated a tale.
Minutes turned to hours and the nights went late only to be suddenly interrupted by the need to eat by someone among us and the long lecture by someone who would ask for more time.
A plane or two would land sometime infringing the peaceful circular motion of the sky and its family or the flickering of someones TV set from a nearby building taller than ours.
Few things mattered then in the pitch dark peaceful hideout - in the open yet away from all else.
Was just reminded by another friend's blog post that I too have reached the same milestone at work at my second job.
So much has changed, so much hasn't.
So much has come by and gone past too.
Have liked some and let some of it be.
Met people, made friends and maintained acquaintances.
Met challenges, stood grounds and left some for the better.
Had the sun flashing down at you through a row of trees like paparazzi and you squinted your eyes,
Stared the moon chase you down, while the train you sat in whistled past ravines,
Seen lights of passing cars on the walls of your room and made stories about them,
Been deafened by the wind while you lilted against its force - nearly floating,
Seen grass sway atop a hill like the waves of the sea and imagined it to be like your hair,
Stood on a cliff & felt swayed by the minority of your existence looking at the plains ahead,
Run your finger on rock and gravel thinking who else before you would have done that,
Stood dead still under a barrage of water in a waterfall thinking you have attained eternal peace,
Seen swallows dive in the dusk sky and compared them to planes in a dog fight,
Imagined floating dandelions to be ideas not yet thought of,
As the warm whiff of the earths perfume accompanied her arms each time they wrapped around me, she gently whispered into my ears stories of the far away lands she had seen.
At night while the stars watched her run past my fingers connivingly, my eyes closed to convince me of having caught up with her. In fiction at least, finally we were one.
Play with light. Shadows are paint that wont need a brush.Lie down in the back of a car and watch the world go by in reverse. Convex is concave too. Look at your fingerprints and imagine them to be highways. Can you figure the end of the road?Look at rain drops as though they are para troopers in war. Descending fast and fading into terra firma below.Look at ants at work. Especially when they walk in a line and then fill dialogues each time they meet each other as though they are talking to one another.
What do you do, to kill time?
The distant whistling of an engine rattled my fears of hiding safe in a field of wheat whose carpet like texture was scarred by shrapnel fired by the mob that paraded by last night. Far and fast its wheels belted a beat across the metallic tracks that led to a direction while they stood stationary just like the war had since the last 3 years. Peace was an oft repeated word that they claimed was close to being brokered. The tracks knew better. Holding onto the last remaining pieces of bread smuggled from the storehouse I waited till night to fall again. In its shroud tattered with stars that reminded me of my mothers Sunday church gown, I hoped to see her again. (Inspired by The Diary of Anne Frank)
Kind of like rain falling in layers across a green mountain in the monsoons. This one experience, quite exactly the opposite in the beauty of it all. Not that it has happened for the first time. This one being the second, made me pause and think about hope that past promises and dreams can be fulfilled in the time called tomorrow. Not all of us live second lives.
Hoping the rain falls tomorrow and its prettier that what it was today - for real.
Summer days. April, July may be. Pokhran, 96
Vacation days that saw afternoons stretch longer than the entire period itself and all I did was look out at the heat blaze past the tar surface of the roads outside. When nothing would move or dare to, these sparrows like school kids after the days final bell would dart between these slabs of stone placed on the boundary wall. The gateway although not aerial would always see them dive down and pass through it. Reminding me of planes in the sky while I trudged along indoors with my set of GI-Joe's wishful that I could have joined them. Summer days. June. Gurgaon, India
Days of hard labor when everything has changed from fantasy to non-fiction. The heat is unrelenting and the tar roads barely seem to be a challenge. As I dive through sometimes meaningless tasks trying to find a vent between the melancholy chores that stand on the boundary wall like those slabs of stone, I often hope... Are those sparrows still flying like they did? Will I …
A little while ago, I walked away from what I created.
I am about to do so again.
Back then, I was not acknowledged, not appreciated and taken for granted.
I am doing the former again. I hope the latter does not repeat itself.
Continuing from the earlier write up Dinner - I this is its part two and gets me to its half way target that I had in mind earlier this year. So I had two more meals with two new people. The core point of all these meals being it has to be two people, a meal and a conversation.
Little Miss Muffet - The last thing I like to do is eat in a hurry. She had an plan that hastened the present. Plus making a decision of a choice of restaurant should not be like a life threatening one. Post work meal that I wish I had not even meditated for. I love the kid none the less.Mr In Common - Defence background, common companies in the resume and a common point of view on a way of functioning. This mid-day meal at the place where I am working with as an embed was a short quick meal that just happened to pan over a quick short conversation.
What can a meal offer you? Get the taste buds of your very grey cells activated.
More until later.
Over the years, he has always told me things that no mater how much I reject always win me over to their side. Rules, advice or simple statements they hold true always.
For me these are the gospel truth I go back to each time I am in doubt. They are:
Never let someone else make their convenience your inconvenience.Familiarity breeds contempt.Take no one for granted - not even me.Nothing ever stays the same. Ceteris Paribus will never hold true.
Its what I got called a few days ago.
Funny but an apt description of me I guess.
I speak much lesser than what goes on in the top floor of my frail anatomy most often.
Some say am observant. Some call me lost. Some say I pretend. Some say I am mean.
I know am honest. I know I listen.
All the time.
Onions are hard on the outside.
With each layer revealing a new side.
Not disappointing. But depending how you unravel each layer.
War is not worthy for it kills mostly those who are least responsible for it.
We lost 5 able men day before yesterday.
Not fighting someone else's war but trying to put a stop to it.
While the nation trudges into the depths of other trivial issues, I refuse to be categorised as someone who forgets.
"Whatever comes our way, whatever battle we have raging inside us, we always have a choice.
It's the choices that make us who we are, and we could always choose to do what's right."
- Peter Parker
The gospel truth for me whenever I have been in doubt about making a choice. Even if its about me.
Earlier this year (details of my rant here) I decided that once every month I must dine with someone I had not dined before or met only recently. This supported by the rationale of my mind that people unveil their true selves or sometimes reveal the true 'you' to yourself during such encounters, is something that I have managed to pull of rather successfully.
The people I have dined with are as follows and I shall continue to update this list in posts hereafter as a continuation of this detailed word rant. Mr Silent Assassin - A fellow colleague who speaks less, eats more than he speaks and whose excellence at work is directly proportional to the amount that he speaks while he eats is the first person to make it to the list. Dining with him is a pleasure since he attacks norms that brands follow, shares work learning's and loves films. I too reciprocate in the same way. Why is he good to dine with? He makes you realise that ideas are worth every bit of rejection. Even if t…
Apart from common challenges such
as getting the non-veg platter serving steward to make frequent rounds towards
your gathering of stags or even getting a table closest to the bar there are
few others tests that an Indian may face as big as disposing the toothpick
which has no meat or any other vegetarian fare wrapped to it. Now if only
they were a cigar that you could wield with the dexterity of a Swedish masseuse
in your fingers things would have been different.
Fear not, for I have keenly
observed how several other stags dealt with the same managerial issue. My
keenly observant self-rushed to document the same with an eye as keen as an Infosys
project manager documenting processes at an offsite deployment.
Here are the 2 ways that you can combat
the issue of the bare food stick at any gathering: Equated Monthly Instalments or the Goat dropping style: No, finance
companies have not got anything to do with this and neither do goat droppings;
it’s just the disposal of the toothpick th…
The New Delhi Metro Co-operation is bringing people closer like never before.
If 'Connecting People' was not a Nokia statement this mode of transport would surely have associated with the line in terms of the how it carries people in it or into it. Even the unsuspecting ones, who stand near its doors at Rajiv Chowk trying to peek into the ladies compartment from the outside.
None the less, this post is not about the service or how it has efficiently transformed the city and its appeal to those who needed a much needed system in getting from Place A to Place B. Its about prediction. Yes, you read correctly - prediction. I am going to simplify and tell you the 5 kinds of specimen of the homo-sapien race that you are sure to find within the metallic canisters that have doors waiting to pinch the skin off that fat uncles rear. This, no matter how many layers of clothes he will pile on and no matter how far ahead he has to descend it his duty to stand near the door and sway to t…
My mind has a constant rhythm. Its layered at two levels.
One being a sound and the other a thought - like most people do.
Now, the thought occupies the little time. If it does its always about what next and the how to.
The sound on the other hand is all about a track, a beat, a loop or a ambiance in the distant setting from a video I may have seen sometime. What is engaging is that it always plays in the back of my head. Like walking into a room with imaginary headphones on and the speech of people is always smothered by the sounds that are far more attractive.
I also keep a track of what I listen to in the form of a play list. I am sure you must give it a try.
Its good to live in a world of your own - the one outside is far too less crazy.
Ever felt insignificant and still proud about it? I
have. Twice I guess if I can recollect clearly. The feeling of being nothing
and something at the same time is purely humbling and nothing short of an
awakening. Possessing the power to bring change or being impactful, no matter
at what end of the spectrum the nature of impact lies at. It’s happened. Twice
I guess if I can recollect clearly.
The first was on a road trip. Tired and aching with
absorbing as much as one possibly can, I trudged atop a hill that looked more
like a summit put together by gathered pebbles. Reaching the top with my legs racing
ahead of the synapses sent to it from my medulla oblongata the lactic acid
build up in my calves calmed me down. As I settled down to gather my sense of
achievement of reaching the top, I was ambushed by a sight that simply wrecked
apart the pleasure-seeking motives I had chased all year long. Gazing across a
torrid landscape of orange rock and green plantain leaves that seemed to thr…
Everyone has objectives.
Mine are kept to a 5 month period.
However for 2013, I have these ahead of me.
Shoot over 100 images I am proud of. Write a minimum 8 posts a month here. I surely can do better.Have a meal with someone different every month and learn something over a conversation. Nothing can teach one more than listening to another over food.Write letters - old fashioned I know but its the best way to speak. To whom? That is a good question.Go back and frame all my stamps in a showcase worthy fashion. Over 5000 stamps is no joke.Shoot a portfolio of the women important to me.Start cooking. Two of my siblings can. I believe I can too.Go climbing - so close yet so far from the Himalayas can never be good. Also, adding Rajasthan to this bit since its a part of my childhood and life learnings.Be selfless - make a donation towards something. I help with charity but can do better.Take another holiday with the siblings. I did it last year and it was worth it. Plan to make this an …