The Rebelle blog

I am writing this last blog post of this year. It has been a while that I've written here regularly.  2024 was the YEAR OF THE DRAGON, and I was born in one. It was my year or so to say and indeed that's what I believed as 2024 rolled in the beginning. Now as I collect my thoughts and get ready to wrap up another year of doings and non-doings, so much comes to my mind. This was the year that I became a plant(s) nurturer. In my 30+ years of existence on this planet, this was truly the year and time that I embraced gardening like breathing. Especially, the first three months up until March had my spirits soaring as I watched my balcony grow bigger and greener with plants and flowers. I am so proud over what I accomplished this year early on. Gardening kept me sane. I discovered my connection with growing greens. All these years, I didn't quite know what to do and was under confident about my ability to maintain plants. I am glad to have overcome that fear. Thankfully the weat...

There is nothing called forever. It's only an imagined term, not even a concept. Everything is real and unreal at the same time. I cannot begin to list down the many fears and grief notes I have gone through in the past few months. I write and that's my biggest strength. Nobody can replace what we share with our self. There is simply no replacement and no placeholder for our thoughts than ourselves. It is difficult to rely on another person for our mental well-being. I believe now, we must not. Its another thing to share our woes and have a sympathetic ear listen to us, but its absolutely a no-no to get burnt out because of what we are expected to do in return. Thank you life for bringing me such people and helping me understand the larger ways in which I ought to lead myself in this world. No love is permanent and certainly, no grief is. Let me grieve for a bit here and then I shall grow. Afterall, all life is for growing. Let me heal within the space of my mind. Let ...

आपण आपला आनंद दुसऱ्यांमध्ये का म्हणून आणि किती दिवस शोधत राहायचा? सगळं माहिती असतं डोक्याला, मनाला, बुद्धीला तरी सुद्धा आपण उगाच भावनांच्या खेळात अडकतो. मी इतके दिवस तुझ्याशी नीट वागले, तुझं सगळं म्हणणं ऐकून घेतलं म्हणून तू सुद्धा माझ्यासोबत नीट वागलास. आता तुझ्या मनाप्रमाणे हव्या तशा गोष्टी घडत नाही म्हणून तू रुसवे- फुगवे करायला लागला आहेस! तिच्याशी मी तुझ्यासाठी बोलत नाही हा तुझा आरोप. इतक्या नानाविध पद्धतीने तुला समजावण्याचा प्रयत्न केला मी गेली दोन-अडीच वर्षे, पण सर्व उथळ पाण्यात वाहून गेलं. आता तिच्याशी मी बोलायला तयार नाही आणि ती तुझ्याशी, तर तू माझ्यासोबत बोलणं टाकलंस. ठीक आहे. तुझ्या येण्याआधी सुद्धा मी जगत होते आणि खूप चांगल्या पद्धतीने, उत्तम आरोग्यात होते. तुझ्या नसण्याने माझ्या आयुष्यात थोडे दिवस एखादी पोकळी निर्माण होईल पण ती भरून देखील जाईल. मी उगाच तुझ्या जाण्याने कोलमडून जाईन असं तुला वाटत असेल तर अजिबात नाही. एवढा अधिकार नाही दिला मी तुला माझ्या आयुष्यात, किंबहुना तो कुणालाच नाही आणि कधी देणार सुद्धा नाही. खूप रडले मी तुझ्यासोबत असताना आणि आता तर मला फक्त त्या...

Today, I came across this poem written by Laurel Chen after Gwendolyn Brooks. I read it first about a year ago and promptly forgot about it seeing how I was dealing with multiple factions in my life then.  I will briefly write about what the words ignited in me today evening as I read them. It's been quite a few days and someone from my family is angry with me. We cease to talk like we did before because we've decided to not talk about the one topic that was all which was left between us. And, so, here we are. As I read the lines,  Grief is not the only geography I know. I wish I could write in words and speak of the untamed ridges that befall upon me as I take in the hurt, anger, guilt and helplessness within me. I couldn't do enough for you, and it shall remain a deep regret within me. If grief is love with nowhere to go, then  Oh, I've loved so immensely. If only I could let you believe that things happen for a reason and why being like this is better right now for a...

 ...Country roads,  take me home  To the place I belong! I am crooning to Olivia Newton- John singing this lovely, understated melody from the Studio Ghibli movie 'Whisper of the Heart.' I watched it one slow summer night as I was lying low with self-doubt and an extreme dip into my self-esteem. What a saver it turned out to be! I resonated with Shizuku, her love for reading and writing and struggling to fit in the ideas of how everyone wanted her to be. How strange that age is truly just a number, and anybody can feel vulnerable yet derive strength from such visually striking stories. Coming of age is just a phenomenon and we can do so at any point in our lives.  So enthralled was I with the viewing that I rewatched it a couple of days later with another young friend. The feeling remained the same, filled with awe and a resonance with her discoveries. I became a little girl once again and relished the things that made me, ME. Sometimes it takes not people but a work...

CHENNAI   20 th  August 2023, Saturday As I get off my cab into a long-winded quaint pathway in an upscale neighborhood that leads to a cafe which is like all others in the city; dimly lit exterior turning bright as one opens their blue topaz colored door. I am greeted by the sight of a group of people sitting by a large center table filled with cups of coffee and hot chocolate and piles of books. They are unmistakably the book club that I have come to meet even before my Chennai friend spots me and gets up to greet me.   I immediately like this group of spirited young people talking animatedly on Young Adult and fictional narratives. I delve in and tell them about my current read- in fact, my fresh read. I had picked it up at Higginbothams titled 'Tamarind City' by Bishwanath Ghosh, an anthology of musings on the city. Surprised with the knowledge that the city also has Tamarind trees in addition with the Drumsticks that find their way into the Tamilian sambar,...