World's my playground



As a kid I had often heard the Sanskrit phrase, "Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam" meaning "all the world is my family" and the only time I felt anyone really living it up was surprisingly someone who probably has never heard this in his life.

The person I am talking about is an absolute free spirit, goes where he feels like, when he feels like, without a thought wasted on customs or social mores that might constrain or restrain him. Wherever he goes he feels at home. An absolute UNALLOYED being, and the only one I have had the pleasure to know. If only I could seek the key to this state of absolute happiness and freedom. If only he could tell. I think he DOES tell, only that I cannot understand. I like all others am well entrenched in my boundaries. Live by them and will die by them too. Not that I am a convert to the idea of global citizenship, no not yet. And my spiritual messiah, who planted the seed of this noble thought is no wonder merely one and a half year old. living in Utopia.. i dont know .. :)

He was like a pleasant surprise which often seems to bypass you these days for your lack of attention. One morning he just chanced to see the open door and entered toddling through as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Bright happy wide eyes looking around and trying to absorb all that came in its wake. We (I and Ankur) were mesmerized with the novelty and ease of the entire sequence and he has held us bound with his antics from that moment on. Every morning we look forward to the baby steps and the subsequent tap tapping of our TV Screen and laptop keys (if we risk keeping them in his line of sight that is) . It is like each morning we throw open our doors to his survey and amusedly watch him with our morning cup of chai, not a bad start to the day i tell you... we  can do a lot worse. He has somehow assiduously charmed his way into our life and we look forward to his arrival..

So, this is to perhaps the unalloyed simplicity of childhood which flows freely through.. like water.. pure in its original form.. knowing no boundaries..  flowing everywhere.. absorbing what it can find.. imbibing and becoming what life would make of it.

So, this is to AYUSH and to the joy he spreads around. I will try to post his pic when possible. Lets see :)

A reluctant walk by the moon light

The late evening and the deserted road

The dim lights and a bad day’s load

The inflated sounds and deflated lights

The smoking silhouettes in the shadow of night

The vague sounds and faint glows

Of filial banter through curtained doors

Your quick footsteps disturb the quiet

You furtively glance for an accomplice in sight

But there is no way to know

footsteps of friends from foes

So, you walk ahead,

myriad things playing your mind

You need to think but want to unwind

Just a few steps more and there will be home

You walk with faith till the lights are shone

There is no way to describe how you feel

You are Home in relief you kneel

Home at least for the day, tomorrow you have to go again

But thank God, tomorrow is one night away J

the hapless gosling...

Lately I was reading a book titled, "Predictably Irrational" by the behavioural economist Dan Ariely. He presents a scientific explanation for the eccentricities of human behaviour that are so well entrenched in our psyche that we fail to notice the aberrations
As I make this vain attempt <irrational self> to save whatever hitherto remains of my reputation, I evoke this finding from a scientific experiment conducted by the aforementioned scholar of repute, where he says have you ever thought why we choose the way we do, he says "When a goose is born, the first living entity it perceives is its mother, so it follows its mother throughout its life. To justify his hypothesis he ensured that the first person a new born gosling saw was him, and lol the gosling followed him instead of its own mother, all its life."

So, ladies and gentlemen, we poor mortals <read innocent ill fated goslings> who art born second carry our cross for no fault of ours but a mere quirk of fate, from which we cannot depart.

fleurs d'un livre (flowers from a book)

There are things we speak aloud
There are those, we tell
But some are veiled by a cloud of doubt
And are left unsaid
Neither told, nor whispered
For, they just don’t seem to fit 
Suppress them howsoever
They simply do exist
Deny them all, for all you like
Or, bolt them tight inside
Springing from that unknown fissure
They haunt you at the night
They seem so trivial 
And yet how does one ignore
When all seems well 
The way they leave you sore
With time, you learn to live
Numb to the pain they give
Neither here nor there
how you follow, when they lead nowhere
why they happen, we cannot tell
in vain, do we constantly dwell
or is that a way to make us see
why life is such a mystery!!!

To write or not to write...

My very first blog… why blog? Why now?

I have been toying with the idea of writing one since eternity and people close to me quip they wouldn’t have the pleasure to read my blog in this lifetime.. but here I go.. finally..

As Descartes said, “I think, therefore I am”. With due respect, I say,  ”I AM, therefore I think..” for each one of us thinks by virtue of one’s existence, whether blog worthy or not remains a point of contention.

There are things that happen, there are things we observe, there are things that affect, there are things that compel but that doesn’t mean that we think about or I shall write about only things that are grave or important, I shall write about things vital and trivial, my muse and views, a fleeting thought or a perennial obsession.. have you ever wondered how can people live and exist in this world blissfully unaware of the otherwise life changing events that happen around them or have you ever felt deeply exasperated by the hours people spend on the most immaterial and inconsequential things in life.. I did.. and am very sure.. so did u

But then our thoughts seem to have a will of their own.. they flow like water meandering through life.. tracing a path .. a trajectory .. touch different shores, sometimes a quick leap, a swift lap, a furious strike,  a merciless splash, a light touch or a swirling compelling vortex  .. thoughts like water traverse through life and events, people and places at varying pace, in various ways.. and this mysterious path that unfolds in the wake of that flow is what defines one’s life.. ONESELF and in case of this blog

 ME: A Meandering Amazon

We exist so we think, but why write?

The fact that, all other modes of expression seem transient in comparison, the longevity of the medium skews the balance in its favour.. come on.. people have built cities and citadels, forts and fortresses to immortalize their name and I write a mere blog to prolong my thought J

Why now?

The crux of my dilemma, I think, I reflect, I meditate, I deliberate but how willing I am to let it be scrutinized by pairs and pairs of unfamiliar eyes..  <the problem was quickly resolved by my sis who told for all my obsession with myself, people in this world have better things to do than scrutinizing my blog unless they find it interesting in which case they have earned to read it > so as I ready myself to take this plunge which I have oft imagined from afar.. I wish the readers an interesting read ahead <presuming of course> 

Keep Fighting ..