Experiences

  Random Musings! We are taught to be humble, patient, understanding , accommodative,  empathetic and what not since we start making sense of things,people,places and relationships...but remember its not always good for mental health; speaking out is important. People might think you are rude,defensive, a hypocrite and non progressive but let them ...speak out,infact lash out when need be because for once you start feeling light, free and heard! We are deeply conditioned to feel guilty after such episodes ...live it but contemplate as well ,ponder deep enough to feel right about being selfish,defensive and moody you! Most of the time listen, empathise and accomodate but not if its a question of people tramping upon your identity, individuality and knowledge base. You might not be good enough for people, not following time management and not inculcating ( mostly showing off) a knowledge base and being a disaster at being a Jack of all trades... but let it be ...sometimes you be...

  Travel stories! It was Ruskin Bond's travel stories that would create the scenes of the buzzing platform, the aroma of kullads and the garam pagkodas, rusty looking at it all the bread pakodas and the shouts of vendors and the frenzy of travellers, percolating it all and oozing out his words on papers which would make these scenes immortal to be read again and again to understand the chaos of travel and the beauty of it. Narayan would move away from tangible and would paint the innocence and bewilderment of commonality on the railway platforms who would find these spaces mesmerising , confusing, strange, interesting and  home to huge giants brought by British babus; their gods maybe were belittled for a reason, the machine giants had arrived! Travel stories by these two legends, I remember them today because after a span of 12 years in thane,I have dared to do 'local travel', as I changed workplace... It's a religion, a cult, a community feeling travelling in loca...

 #Inheritence of Loss Good evening everyone, since the movie has been released I couldnt muster the courage to watch it. I havent even seen #Shikara; but with the amount of hue and cry on social media and so many Kashmiri Pandits coming forward and rendering their heart out, I went ,petrified but went to witness on screen what our grandparents died wishing for#a glimpse of homeland,#shankaracharya pith darshan, the singing on roads of #legacy of shiva trikha philosophy...they died with a dream that ..ik doh gasav kashir..gari panun (still waiting)... The movie portrays the dreadful plight of my community bit by bit accurately, this happened,yes shameful, tragic and incomprehensible but happened, I tried sleeping after watching it but couldnt...cant stop my tears The massacre, the rape and mutiliation of bodies of females, the fear to portray your relegious symbols(vermilion or the janeo), bitta katare and shabir shah terror ,it all happened my friends People left like herds bundled...

 #Woman's day post! Well, this so called woman's day started with reaching back Mumbai (its a utopia, a no eveteasing zone) once you are fresh back from Delhi ;) ; baki...idhar udhar, thoda bahut upar niche to har jagah hai hi...so next I meet our jumanji ride to be auto driver, what skills...wish he could join some crazy racing event full of obstacles, traffic was meant to lose, the pothole adorned road was meant to be defeated in his flying machine three wheeled monster, whisteling , singing and do chaar mind awakening slangs made us reach (Y and K is the new Jai veeru...mumbai to jaipur and back to mumbai wala brahman kar lia hum womaniya ne)... Khair, aj #Manmarziya dekhi...I had been wanting to watch it, well! #Anurag Kashyap ho to hopes high ho jati hai... Vicky Kaushal was superb quite contrary to what I have seen him as; Bachchan junior I believe hasnt been exploited well till date, yahan bhi wohi hua he got his cliche shy,introvert, dependable kinda guy role...not impr...

 Kaunai malin dapne aaye... Grandma's stories!!! We always have a first time with experiences which we hold close to our heart...the first story, its first rendition, the voice modulation, the sudden inclusion of a song within the story, the sparkling expressive eyes and the hand movements, they kind of etch the story forever in our minds...oral rendition with the magic of imagination is still one of the best forms of storytelling but nobody does it better than babi papa(dada dadi) , stories are the fuel that keep the excitement, curiosity and imagination alive within our world...which makes us survive trudge through the mundane The story of 'Parvati and Shiva' is one such story which echoes with the childhood of Kashmiri Pandit community. The month of Feburary is an auspicious month, its when kashmiri households come alive; saaf safai, Shiv Gora bhajans, onset of shopping for Shivratri samigri, lots and lots of walnuts, and once again 'watuk bharun' (experiencing t...

  Past Defines... I have heard so many of life coaches, mystic gurus and friends and loved ones say let go past, move on and ahead but its there and it defines what you are , you cant let go but you take a deep breath and move ahead. When you were judged to grow up fast or have an early puberty... the stares and remarks still linger on and encourage you to stay solitary in the comfort of a book or coffee... When you were mocked for not fitting into the parameters of what society considers physically appealing, it stays with your personality as you still prefer silence, yourself and a movie because the pinching feeling in the middle of your chest still comes back , even today when you dress up and go out your mind clouds with how will the stares judge you, how will the facial expression give away the mean comments and how that eye contact and those whispers will judge you again...we get up, hold a steady smile and move on but there is a crunch between the lungs... When at your workp...

 Anand L Rai is one of those few left who understand the roots of Bollywood; Hindi cinema and its rich history of dance,music, songs and dialogues...vibrant colours, the extravagance of emotions, the euphoric relationship it has shared with audiences through all these years. The grand syntagm-Romantic melodrama has been re-awakened. What I comprehend here is Ranjhanaa one step further. But his kind of Bollywood is incomplete and lifeless without his muse- Dhanush( who can be a pop culture icon with Kolaveri; give you goosebumps with Asuran and made you teary eyed with Ranjhnaa)..this story the soul of it is Dhanush. Sara is not very different from what she did in Kedarnath; but Bihari mannersims praiseworthy. Akshay is good at what he does best being a medicore star, the thread that makes complex texts comprehensible. The story which follows in the tradition of Hindi cinema by being simple yet enduring, romance at helm but yet it gives a contemporary  touch by experimenting an...

 Stories are immortal, they are meant to stay in our heart forever. This one will stay eternally, the exuberant frames, the beautiful use of lights...which takes us for a flight of stars and back to reality; from a company of two to solitary lands.  The love story of 'to be or not,to be'. The sense of self journey, the love of couple moments and the sudden halt to reality and eternity of our chosen paths; the time together might not last forever but love does, and so does ,what it does to us...becomes us. Seb and Mia bring in the connotations from 'Rebel Without a Cause' not in the story but in the context of characterisation. Mia stands for what Seb believes in and Seb believes in what's inside Mia...consequently Mia reminds Seb of what's his capability...the art of bringing evolutionary joy to his audiences. A love story which is a dedication to our dreams , no matter how unreal they are.. A tribute to Paris, which really is 'The city of love'...not in...

 Happy Teachers Day!!!  I am one born in 1980s, so the kind of frame people from my era used to see teachers in was altogether different , it was someone right next to God and parents (the ones who are image of that God for us, the one's who create and manifest us, our first Teachers...no no it's not going to be a Barjatya melodrama...jus my thoughts according to my conditioned mind, and I really like who I am). I grew up, post-graduated and decided to join the teaching fraternity; my mom being an excellent teacher was my first inspiration. I had teachers to look upto; my love for English language (love though it will take a lifetime to understand an iota of that language) comes from the teachers who taught me in school; they carried the stories inside them and rendered them beautifully...so much so I still can visualize those memories from school. Graduating days was all about learning more outside than inside the classroom; I would like to thank friends and cousins who groo...

Besides the bay, below the stars Existence looks minimal. The enormous meet and silence speaks. As we trudge in the sparkling black territory, Love,fear and an awareness erupt; Love of life, fear of unknown And an awareness of how insignificant we are. The venomous waves, the melancholy song...maybe a soul lost and forlorn... Looking beyond the mundane, Looking towards the infinite. A day that was unbearable suddenly lost its power. And my happiness erupted out of my awareness of insignificance...

Illusion or Resolution? Lost in the desires of heart, When we leap waves of time, Little do we realise how frail are dreams... Upon the petals of your happiness, They grow and nurture. Its gradual and its personal. 'Time is a construct... Time is artifical...' they say. But it is this invisible weapon, Which withers away your dreams. Leaves you empty, Within and without. You smile but you learned to contemplate, You learned to manipulate. Finally you evolved. With the ways of the world. Pain which cannot be seen One for which words are incomprehensible. It leaves you hollow yet so full. Full of visions of awareness, Full of empathy. But sans dreams and passions... Little fellow. Learn to find solitude. For its 'you' And its your journey... How illusionary or illuminating... Its your own. Just let it be. @ Kanika Kachroo

Venomous Dreams A heap of sand, Upon which we build our dreams, The enchanting magic, Of desires sweet. Of expectations humongous, Time condenses and beholds them. Upon our heart and in our mind it ages moment by moment. The mortal mesmerizes in its webs, But once caught the poison leaves you... Unquenched. Paralyzed. Impenetrable. The numbness of the mind doesnt leave, The venom kills its self image day by day, And all that is left is 'you' The serenity of your emptiness. The stillness of your being. The understanding of this world, Its limitations and limitlessness. And the world within.... The mysticism calls... But the cries are feeble. Get overt the animalistic side, Get over the guilt, After all 'existence' survives. @Kanika

Experiences: The Window: A SHORT STORY : The Window She scrubbed frantically. Her life was an annoyance, she thought. The urge to clean was turning into a habit and this was...

The Window She scrubbed frantically. Her life was an annoyance, she thought. The urge to clean was turning into a habit and this was not letting her go. Her soul was caged. The defeat inside was an entity itself which dominated her reflections outside. She fought, incessantly talked, cried her heart out, shouted within the walls and her eyes couldn’t hide the depth of her sorrow. Her face revealed the scars of an invisible battle. Cleaning her surroundings was a therapy or maybe, it was an illusion for the mind to stay calm. But the demonic creature that mind is, never let her evils go. Sneha was done with her morning household chores. It was still a few hours before her daughter was back from school. She dreaded this moment. This was the time when she had nothing to keep her mind at bay; the solitude that she endeared at one time was obnoxiously dreadful at this present moment. With a heavy heart she settled at her usual place, the corner sofa seat and dazed out of t...

Grown out of the desires; Howcome? Grown out of the dreams; Maybe... Grown out of craziness; Honestly. Sifting through the memes, Trying to have that momentary smile. Exploring all the spirituality, that the digital baba throws. One moment of catastrophe. One expression of stillness. One expectation which remains Unquenched... At last its the journey , And its your own... Its what will bring the deconstruction ... It will bring you.

The ways of the world stand unchanged, Shallow waters and deep valleys, Muddy puddles and dark skies, Leaning upon acceptance, Stands an uninhibited soul... Waiting to be diluted, To be ravaged and dealt with. She contemplates, ponders, philosophizes, Imitates and adorns unreal. The happiness is lost... The real is forlorn and secluded. Paradox is she, and she is a paradox, Emotions, Connections and intimacy Strongly built brick by brick. But Serenity lost between the mortar. Sad is a quotient. It is not her identity. She cries and wails with a smile, Amber turns her eyes sparkle... To the world she is a beauty. A name recognizable. A person definable. But deep underneath... Stands the little one undefined and illusionary...

Wrenched from within, When the without holds aloof... Practical becomes ferocious, And refuses to let go self... Within those confines of viciousness, When the battle of mind soars and soars... It doesnt hear nor does it feel, It just wants to retain its creation... Little self moves outside, Takes a ride and fills the aura... With a handful of hope, And a mesmerising sight of humanity around, Twinkling lights and lost dances of soul. The bundle of trinity finds solace... Eternal peace and boundless joy, Within the mundane around. Praise the customs. The culture and its bindings. The human chaos around... The emptiness within and the silence outside The errie restricts... Come what may, The intelligentsia say... Experience has taught Time has touched the essence ... Commonality prospers...roars and soars

What is research? Yesterday I attended a national conference on ‘Economics, Infrastructure and Development’, had written a paper for the same. After delivering my presentation, the person perusing the event responded, only those people who have some methodology to show present the papers, if they have opinions in their paper it’s not a research paper. Agreed sir, he was right; but I wanted to speak and justify, give a point. My embarrassment was so profound that I couldn’t; but then sharing a thought with friends, getting their feedback always helps…so am here. My first question  : Why is it that we always have to follow set steps, I mean write it directly that first intro, then research question, objectives, methodology,…why we can’t give different headings- the purpose remains same having a question, reviewing some literature based on that ,do some findings and reach the conclusion- something that synchronizes with our topic , make it little interesting, maybe so that some...

When I first saw her, it was Krack heel repair cream ad, and she went unnoticed. Again it is said she debuted in Balaji telefilms ‘Hum Paanch’. But there too I didn’t notice the grumpy one. My perception took notice with ‘Parineeta’. The genius in her performance was triumphant. She won as deserved. She experimented and failed, as image once accepted by the masses can be strong and you better stick by it but if you dare you have adventures, battles-lost and some won too. (Though she has Sabyasachi to her rescue now). Vidya Balan has been unconventional. She broke the stereotype of ‘cut-glass pretty heroine’ mould and being the second in the lead dominance too. (This is what I am impressed with most).She has been a trendsetter undoubtedly. There have been actresses ( Bollywood centric) who have dared roles: Nargis (Mother India),Jaya Bachchan (Koshish),Shabana Azmi (Arth) and many more to name ,but, she stands out as somebody who loves to be average and imperfect(look wise) and ...

I am a careless writer, the blocks are quite visible because they come too often, though the thought process is quite active, everyday is a tussle of thoughts which are positive, negative, revengeful, aggressive, creative, destructive, high and low  .The laziness and the environment around are enough to put me off. I am a dreamer who thinks too much and can communicate too less, but when something disturbs the serenity of my personal space, I come back to writing ,that makes me not a dedicated writer but an opportunist ,who takes to it only when it comforts me, not a good picture of me but that’s the truth… While I was preparing my favorite dish in the kitchen, the TV announced the death of another era of Cinema-Superstar Rajesh Khanna. I felt sad as we lost a legend, but then, in a fraction of second, what happened was the conversion of television into the name that was rightly given to it years ago-‘Idiot box’. Whichever channel I clicked for news or even a show that could h...