Friday, August 13, 2021

A Poem


This poem was originally composed in my mother tongue PUNJABI a few months back. At that time my mental state matched with the sentiments expressed below.

At that time my inner-self longed to transcend the status quo.

Some peculiar situations came in between and I kept postponing translating it, into ENGLISH.  The thoughts and emotions, which propelled me to write this poem then had somewhat mellowed; yet I vowed to start my blog journey once again with something original after more than two years of indecisiveness. 

Friends, hoping that you’ll accept me as you did in the past. I know my creative juices need a lot of practice to flow again.


Suddenly being conscious of sweet fragrance pervading around,

 As if shackled in a closet, it was gasping for breath,

As if it freed itself after breaking open chains of inertia,

As if it woke up from the pointless conversations of life,

As if it swept off the hazy sheet from the mind mirror.

As if after decades, it animated the mind to songs of joy,

As if it curtained off life’s qualms in guffaws of laughter,

As if it got rid of the fake persona to face clear waters,

As if it touched the skies perched on the mountain peaks.

A sudden violent nudge disrupted the flow of emotions,

A voice spoke: Oh, ignorant being it was within you forever,

Only it slumbered waiting for you to wake up.

Isn’t it that...?

This short life of ours infuses immense possibilities,

But sadly, the existence stays bound in life’s frivolities.



Tuesday, August 10, 2021



I’m aging and trying to evolve into a person who enjoys living within the boundaries of home life. I consider it the right time too to embrace the simple delights of everyday life. Though my monkey mind and my fairly active body balk at the idea of surrender and face the existential reality of pains, aches, and much more; yet choosing a comfort zone is not an option for me but a necessity at this phase of my life. Despite my vibrant disposition of inquiry, and unquenched curiosity, the limitations of aging stare in the face starkly.

My life now has a different calendar. Since outings are minimal these days, my balcony (I spend summers amidst hills) figuratively has turned into a window for interaction with the natural world. It overlooks a narrow valley surrounded by hills covered with thickly growing stately pines and lush greenery. A silent unobtrusive conversation I hold with trees, bushes, and sprawling random vegetation. Sometimes the goings-on in the avian world also becomes a centre of attraction, because of the unique orchestra they play before flying off to their stipulated destination of the day.  Regular spells of monsoon showers have caused the flora to glisten when sunrays win the hide and seek game with masses of water-soaked clouds.


My morning starts if it is not raining- with a leisurely walk on my balcony. While sipping my first cup of tea of the day, I instinctively feel connected with the soothing vibes emanating from nature’s marvels around. The feisty scene of majestic pines, their boughs laden with fresh needles swinging happily in the cool moist air makes me feel happy to be alive. The rest of the rain-washed foliage proudly acts as an appendage to fill gaps in between trees and provide a safe canopy for the insect colonies to flourish. This limitless visual spectacle malleable to the constantly changing aspects of climate, on a deeper level, slams us for our rigidities and proclivity to cling to our limiting identities. The charming scenario makes me conscious of the unfolding of the new day, and my resolve to make it more productive than yesterday.

 To preserve my sanity and ward off feelings of isolation, I keep inventing things to do. Believe me, all my left-over wools and forgotten multi-colored threads have been made use of by my newfound joyful activity of crocheting. My browsing YouTube videos helped me immensely in learning its basics.

Reading can be a pleasurable activity for us seniors both for time well spent and acquiring insights into human aspirations. My Kindle is well stocked with eBooks which I order online. One can get compilations of all-time Classics in one jacket – a gem to lovers of reading.


I’m on Pinterest as well. Please google to find all information about it. I find it a minefield of wonderful new ideas, quotes, and DIY projects. If one has the gift of a keen creative streak one can learn unimaginable things even at an advanced age. Basic computer savviness is the only requirement separating you from the treasure trove of the universe.

Cooking is therapeutic. Kitchen kingdom is the prerogative, which most of the ladies would loath to pass over wholly to any maid whatsoever. This privilege one should maintain till one's limbs cooperate.

Choicest activity interspersed with restful lie-downs and some exercise makes life satisfying, joyful, and healthy even in grey years

I’m reminded of John Milton’s dilemma, which he versifies in his well-known sonnet titled “On His Blindness”. Having lost his eyesight early in life he was unable to write. However, the thought that God will question him about his wasting the gift of writing gnawed him constantly.  But deep down, his mind itself conveys the answer in the concluding line of the sonnet that is, “they also serve who only stand and wait.”

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Tuesday, July 20, 2021


Around six that evening, when the doorbell rang, Eshan was busy getting things ready for the evening's party. Wondering who had turned up so early, he grumpily went to the door. It was Nathan. "I'm here to help you," he said with a smile. "How much can you possibly do all by yourself." Holding forward a single rose that had a long, slender stalk, he bowed dramatically. "Congratulations. For now, you could stop being jealous," he sneered. Eshan knew that the emphatic 'all by yourself' was hardly intentional, but it bothered him.
In fact, Nathan's two double-edged statements, Eshan understood obliquely and for a second unsettled him too. But he had no mood for a face-off. Nathan being his one friend who could be relied upon whenever.

Nathan understood fully well how Eshan’s silliness had derailed his ‘Apple Cart’ maybe forever. Eshan had a few good friends who in fact, envied his good fortune in marrying a sensible girl like Nikita. But Eshan’s childishness mistook his friends’ freewheeling as a road to heaven, which he was deprived of because of his family. This immaturity of Eshan always bemused Nathan. Poor foolish Eshan had not grown up indeed.
Despite his wavering perception about marriage, things on the surface level seemed tolerable for Eshan till a few months back, when Nikita suddenly left him taking along Appu his toddler son. In fact, Nikita had been walking on spikes for quite some time and had cushioned her feet to avoid the pricks. However, constant prick points do bleed. Her suffocation got accentuated by the tyranny of silence, which had slowly crept into their existential space. Misunderstandings piled up. Scowled foreheads and pursed lips were tell-tale undercurrents of love gone sour. Nikita who had been brought up under the canopy of the overflowing love of her parents was devastated. Unfortunately, Eshan refused to accept it.  And this drastic step was the only option for Nikita to save her self-esteem.

With his self-centered approach, Eshan took Nikita’s acceptance of his idiosyncrasies for granted like traditional husbands. She’s not the nagging sort. Her stoicism could weather storms and she had negotiated many. In between, she had tried to vent her frustrations a couple of times though. She hated scenes as she’d do anything to maintain peace, maybe a fragile one. By nature, she was incapable of harming him any which way. Yet his egotistical punches remained unabated ignoring her frequent mild pleas. He balked when she reminded him of his indifference towards her. He expected her to be at her sweetest best robot-like.

A habit of his that was becoming a major confrontational point was Eshan's throwing parties every weekend. All her pending tasks would remain undone as she expended all her energies in fixing dishes and finishing sundry tasks. For one who was meticulous and loathed to postpone significant responsibilities, it was hard to run the household smoothly.

Thankfully, her mother had painstakingly taught her the basics of cooking though she hated cooking as a young girl. That obviously helped her come up with a fairly sumptuous fare using her imagination and cooking skills. What piqued her, however, was Eshan’s total nonchalance in not recognizing how she consciously tried to do her best as a host. Perhaps for him, that was what was expected and so no big deal. While he felt delighted, seeing people enjoying the food, she felt miserable and ignored. His male ego was too proud to express a few words of appreciation.

The early days of marriage were like moonwalking. She had been crazy about him. He’s her hero. In fact, affection for him carved its special place in her heart even before marriage. Each letter after their betrothal would create sweet turbulence in her whole being making her restless till the next billet-doux. The nostalgia of the romantic meetings on weekends kept her buoyant. Was that phase real or just euphoria she had tried unsuccessfully to figure out? Her caring feelings for him were born out of those ecstatic moments and the consciousness of that allowed her to bail him out of many rash skirmishes he was accustomed to creating now and then.

Even the bile in her heart didn’t make her neglect him in any way. Over time his lack of concern and respect caused a gnawing pain difficult to set aside. Maybe she thought what matters for man is the conquering part. After the battle is won and the hormonal surge ebbs the deeply rooted remnants of entitlements soon cloud the sensitivities. For a woman, a cool serenity and joy take shape in her new role. Why she thought for a woman even for an accomplished and professional one marriage continues to be her lifeline? For Nikita, her home, husband, and child had been the center of the universe. Her commitment to this aspect of married life was total. But Eshan was a man first and foremost, woefully lacking that sensibility.

Her eyes brimmed with stinging tears remembering his callousness once at not informing her before, and coming back at midnight even though she was in an advanced stage of pregnancy. Even today she shudders thinking about the agony of those late hours she went through without any communication from him.

She sometimes introspected and thought how Appu her adorable son was nature’s gift to them but for Eshan it was something which happened as a matter of course. She sometimes mocked herself for passively accepting unjust responses while keeping the hurts locked securely in the farthest corner of her heart.

Nikita recognized that Eshan possessed an extraordinary intellect and was highly qualified (that was what attracted her to him) but as regards the finesse of emotion he had not even entered the kindergarten. His childish perceptions about people sometimes shocked her.

Her emotions for him had purity and honesty. But she always sensed a streak of selfishness in his behavior towards her and Appu. Her persona remained fresh, not even hardened by chilling experiences at the hands of his bizarre family. If only she had not overlooked their idiocies and had learnt to stand firm on the principles, she believed in. However, Eshan would morph into a lamb with blinkers on in their presence. He continued acquitting the brashness of the members of his family. The core values she had inherited made her overlook their outrageous demeanour while she persevered to guard her sanity.

She recalled with pain the bitter experience when she accompanied Eshan to one of his bachelor friends’ party for the first time. Under the influence of liquor, his inhibitions gone, he had remarked how being married was so restrictive. She was aghast at the untruth of that remark. Was his passion for her fake when he’s courting her? Feeling embarrassed and small she noticed his friends sheepishly cast a sideways glance at her while nudging Eshan to be quiet. In the morning he blurted out some conciliating words. But for Nikita it was one more hurt added to the list. 

Still, he could keep his hold on her. Stupid girls can’t see through men’s tricks. So easily they’re taken in.  A few tender moments would blot those upsetting memories and a false sense of rapprochement would prevail for a few days. Appu her cherished love was the bond that kept the fragile threads of their relationship from snapping. He loved his father. Though, disappointedly she always thought, “Can the leopard change its spots?”

There’s another weekend party and he had invited a number of his colleagues. It was back-breaking for her because it’s luncheon and the maid came late. She had prepared the choicest dishes. She even tasted each one though she never used to do that. In her excitement, she unconsciously picked up her special dish and while offering it to one of the guests remarked, “Please do try this delicious preparation.” A glance at Eshan was enough to tell her that there was something amiss. After some time, all guests departed and Nikita busily finished the winding up of the kitchen. As soon as she went to the bedroom, he came from the study fuming. How he kept that vitriolic subdued till then which he lashed upon her she could not fathom. The anger on his face had enflamed his eyes and he spluttered, “How dare you praise your own dish. What about your manners. What would my friends think?” A deluge of spite followed.

Nikita was speechless. Her heart sank.  How dare he! A storm raged inside her. In the heat of the moment, she made a decision which she had never contemplated before.

Her best friend and parents pitched in. She shifted to a flat quite far from this house. She never wished to cross his path even by chance.

It didn’t take her long to adjust. Her professional life got its rhythm back. The maid took Appu to the playschool and brought him back. He was happy because there were many other children of his age group in the locality.

A couple of times Nathan tried to call her but she didn’t pick up the phone. She didn’t wish to entangle any of his emissaries in her private life. Eshan took the hint and retreated into a self-made coop.

Not that memories, remembrances did not torment her but her decision she thought, was warranted under the circumstances.

One day her friend rang her up to inform her about a reputed music company holding a concert in the coming week. Many popular singers were to sing their musical hits accompanied by a band of trained musicians. She agreed and bought online tickets.

Nikita arranged with her maid to stay with Appu until their return.

The theatre was almost packed. Only a few seats remained to be occupied. Her friend and she shuffled a bit to make themselves comfortable in anticipation of an entertaining evening after a long time. As she surveyed the scenario, her heart missed a beat on spotting a familiar figure trying to locate his seat. She was transfixed. Her gaze following his each and every movement. When he looked over his shoulders the pallor on his face was apparent. His gait did not seem self-assuring. There was no mistaking who he was. The look was that of a lost animal. Was he the man she loved? She could not bear that. The pent-up feelings of months flooded every nook and corner within. The stream of consciousness-like placid waves in a narrow stream obliterated all the sins of omission and commission. Love for this lost soul who was searching for his foothold in the sea of strangers around him flowed in torrents. There was no stopping the cascading tears.

Having spent a sleepless night Nikita went to work as in a dream. Her heart was hardly in the job she was doing. Dark clouds of confusion enveloped her thought process. In a sort of delirium, she reached the foot of the stairs to climb up to her flat on the second floor.  She had a faint recollection of somebody coming after her. She unlocked the door and looked back.
Dreamily she crossed the threshold. Eshan followed her and gently latched the door.

Thursday, August 29, 2019


"Those who don’t know history are bound to repeat it." Edmund Burke

H is for History.

Some believe learning history in the fast-changing modern world is irrelevant. They opine that knowing the present itself is a challenge. It is fruitless to go back to the past. No, it is not so. In fact, past, present, and future are interlinked. There is no vacuum in the epochs of humanity’s progress and evolution. It is essential to be aware of history to understand the present.

The archives of world history enfold numerous eras representing their own specific cultures, beliefs, worldviews, and events. We find them chronicled in history books. In short, history is a saga of all that happened in the past. How families, communities, societies, and nations were formed. How people lived and carried on their daily activities. The knowledge of history is the foundation for further development of the human race.

History has recorded the holocausts, world wars and several harrowing tragedies, which added to the human misery to no end. How Hitler’s megalomania caused two World Wars and heaped untold sufferings on millions of people. These are painful blots on the face of humanity. They do make us pause and ponder.

However, for totalitarian political regimes, history is bunk, therefore it is distorted continuously. The word ‘history’ finds no mention in the public domain. The ruling oligarchy keeps an iron-like grip on people’s memories. By creating a chocking system, it keeps the citizenry on their tenterhooks 24x7. Hit by privations and state-organized hardships people have no time to go deep into finer aspects of human existence. The possibility of citizens creating turbulence in the seemingly stable functioning of the system is almost remote. There is ‘Thought Police’ to crush fatally any deviance. Here I feel like sharing a thought-provoking example.

‘NINETEEN EIGHTY FOUR’(1984)  a novel by British author George Orwell published in 1949 warns against the insidious possibility of a world where history would be distorted to fit the controlling needs of the despotic system.

Courtesy Google.

Here I narrate an anecdote from the novel to make my point: News splashes on the TV screen. Weekly chocolate ration has been cut to half. By the evening, the news item not only disappears but also is washed clean. There is no proof that there was such an announcement because it is erased from all records. The people battered by shortages and rations hardly had the pluck to reason out such machinations. The move is meticulously planned and subtle.

Interestingly, after a few days, there is breaking news on state TV channels. The weekly chocolate ration has been increased followed by the canned enthusiastic uproar.  In reality, the increase is a pittance as compared to the original quantity. History is wiped out every day leaving the masses without any measure of comparison.

But history can be blatantly misused also. In modern times there is another danger looming large. Our likes, dislikes and other data are being codified to commodify   our very existence. Our online browsing history is tracked to influence our future decisions. The thinking process gets stunted. The originality of thought and choice loses its importance.

We should remember that history is a great teacher. By recounting our pitfalls and strengths over the ages, it warns us against the mistakes and blunders of the past. The knowledge should sensitize us against the devastating consequences of selfish and egotistic actions. Otherwise, our indifference to the significance of the past will give credence to the saying that, ‘history repeats itself.’ 

Leaders, administrators, politicians, and citizens: Be wise and be warned because we write our history every day!

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Thursday, August 22, 2019


Top post on IndiBlogger, the biggest community of Indian Bloggers
“Today I Googled God. How happy He must be that I am searching for Him.”
Kate McGahan

G is for Google.

Today ‘GOOGLE’ has invaded our mental space in ways hitherto unimaginable! Google has brought into the focus of each one of us the magnitude of the cosmos and its operations. It has empowered us in all possible ways. It has sharpened our intelligence, cognitive abilities and raised our capabilities manifold. Can't we say it is no less than a miracle? It has assumed the powers of the proverbial genie of ‘Aladdin’s Wonder Lamp’.

 From times unknown, humankind has reveled in listening to stories steeped in fantasy, adventure, fairy tales, miracles and all kinds of supernatural stuff. Gaping members of the audience with imagination soaring high on wings of wonder lapped it all. Now Google is the new teller of tales regarding all aspects of the universe in which we live.

The stories and fables told in hugely popular ‘Arabian Nights’ have remained all-time favorites in every generation. Astonishingly Google has become the repository of all this and much more. Google is ‘Alibaba’s Secret Cave’ and a modest click is the magical code ‘Open Sesame’. Yes, a simple click dazzles us with its colossus of knowledge and information with mind-blowing and mind-boggling rapidity. We’ve become so used to its wizardry that no more jaw drops happen. 

The information deluge, which Google’s search engines reveal can well be compared to an ocean whose belly, is suffused with infinite treasures and unthinkable entities beyond enumeration.

The sheer reach of Google’s search engines on the World Wide Web is beyond comprehension. Google is our authentic friend and care not for being humored!

Yet the company’s modest mission only says,

“Our mission is to organize the world’s information and make it universally accessible and useful.”

However, the million-dollar question is how do they organize? One can only make conjectures about the mammoth operational structure. I would remark in a lighter vein that Google people must have laid their hands on ‘Aladdin’s Wonder Lamp’ and the genie is perennially at their disposal.

I extend my heartfelt gratitude to ‘Google’ for enabling us to share our creative journeys, via- Google Blogger, Google Photos and YouTube, not to mention the host of other services!

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Friday, August 16, 2019


"There's  never one sunrise the same or one sunset the same." Carlos Santana

F is for Fiery!

A few days back dared to shoot the rising sun with photochromatic glasses! The result was this unusual capture taken from our balcony!

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Friday, August 9, 2019


E is for Ease.

The other day I watched a video of a question-answer session in the ashram of Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev based in Tamil Nadu a southern State of India. Sadhguru is a mystic and a spiritual guru who discourses on all aspects of life and its wellbeing. He is regularly invited by Educational institutions and Corporate houses worldwide to answer questions about life issues. In the ashram in India, interested people are trained in Isha Kriya, which is one of the ways of meditation and attaining overall wellness.

“Isha Foundation is a non-profit, spiritual organization founded in 1992 by Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev. It is based at the Isha Yoga Center near Coimbatore, India. The foundation offers yoga programs under the name of Isha Yoga.”
Method: Yoga programs, meditation, tree plant...
Location: India; Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu

In the video, an attendee asked him about the causes of modern-day life being so stressful and jumpy. His simple answer was that people have forgotten how to be at ease. Most of us are an amalgamation of past memories, ideas, emotions, impressions, experiences and all sorts of prejudices. They are limiting the innate human desire of boundless expansion.  They keep us knotted and deplete our energies. We lose the ease of living.

‘We should stop fixing the world,’ he says. The limitless potential of each human being goes waste in managing inanities. He says that we should try to obliterate the boundaries of individuality and open up to life. The lesson, in a nutshell, is to free oneself from the shackles of the past. He calls it ‘living with the dead.’

In a way, according to him, the identification with the burdens of the body and mind is limiting the growth of enormous power of each life. One should be conscious of life, of each breath and countless possibilities will open up every moment. To be at ease requires erasing of self-created bounds by our physical and psychological structure. The secret of a meaningful existence is distancing ourselves from these two.

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