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Tete-a-Tete with life

I severely despise drama, melodrama, malaise of all kinds. And yet here I am spending an October Saturday in misery over the way people can't deal with their problems. Anger and Anxiety are going to be the death of this world. Just last night the news reported a survey of 31% officegoers suffering from office related stress in my city. I actually feel that number is at least 91%! If only all of us learnt to live (and, lie alternately) in harmony and in unison, there would be no stress and participation in such grizly surveys. But, this is life and we are the saddest lot in it. Unfortunately, I am not in my very best spirits to write here, but in the hopes that writing shall cure me of my endless suffering, here I unleash my fury at the world (and, myself!). 
Just today morning, I told a friend that "all conditioned things are impermanent," and while it is true generally, today it doesn't feel so. Somehow, hatred and anger and vile things have become a permanence in …
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Joys of being

Hurray! Your postcard has arrived!! This message in my inbox makes me smile invariably. :) Received an email last night and I went back four years ago into that cold october night when I first ventured into this amazing world of Postcrossing- sending postcards across the world. I don't quite remember how I stumbled upon the website but it quickly became a source of great joy to me. It brought me stories from many countries on postcards that took my breath away. Some of them were sending their first postcards to India and it was so wonderful to read their stories. Amidst a not so very good time in my life, I kept receiving postcards that lifted my sullen spirits, gave me amazing insights into human psychology of being from different cultures and geographies and yet being the same people, everywhere. I realised that Russians, Dutch, Germans are avid postcrossers. I tried to keep up with the hectic schedule of my life and sending postcards while lamenting the lack of finding cards, t…

Tick Tock

There's a LIVE timebomb ticking within all of us. Isn't it slightly infuriating to be at the helm of such anxiety and nervousness? A number of things that could make us miserable, change our cheery demeanour to a sullen state of chaos, unable to comprehend the workings of this complicated system. We are all beings in a fixed mechanism of state and individual power. We are controlled by forces we live with daily. They include our people from our families, workspace, acquainting lifesphere. The set of rules bogs me down each time I look at a detached view of this being. Since I am alive in this great era of science, modernity and opportunities, why does it still seem inadequate?
Like every other parent-children disagreements, I am seething with one too over the most mundane and silliest of topics. Such is life. I think it was Anais Nin who wrote that "I am a series of moods and sensations. I play a thousand roles...My real self is unknown." How I so appropriately feel…

Justice, at last!

Nothing is less likely to inform the ignorance of their basking than telling them it is abysmal. - George Bernard Shaw
A few days ago, I read something about Cultural Appropriation and I honestly can't to my utter embarrasment remember anything more about the article. Today, on 28th August 2017, Judiciary in India delivered a powerful prison sentence to a fake godman who dominated the news for his notoriety for years. 20 years in prison for two sexual assault cases pending since the last fifteen years. It is indeed a big victory apart from the cynicism of few who moan the delay in justice but they forget that in India, justice delayed is often justice denied! I read the original letter written by one of the sexual abuse victims to the then PM, Vajpayee. That letter is chilling in details, giving a detailed account of Ram Rahim's many crimes that includes raping 35-40 sadhvis (nuns), murdering people and abusing women in his so called dera- place of worship. Unfortunately for In…

In other worlds, other wonders!

I have never till date felt so defenseless over a headache! In fact, I have never given power to my body to enslave me with sickness. I have always been healthy for years. My last bout of sickness was in 2005 when I was bed ridden for a week apparently from exhaustion of travelling to and fro from college. Architecture as academics was exhausting. Instead of expanding my health issues anyfuther here, I would like to write about my recent disinterest in blogging. 
On one hand, I have been reading excessively like a mad(wo)man, devouring couple of hundred pages every day or so, and yet I find myself bereft of words to write here. I have also met some new people, readers who have turned their passion into business, which is too cool, I think! The more I look at people who have developed this trangression from reading and owning books and then, selling them, the more subconscious I have become about my books at home. My Dad and me share a common giant wall bookshelf with about Ten granite …

Meanderings

There is this thing about reading that is unique and personal to each. It awakens feelings and thoughts that one could not have conjured while sitting idly. Although that is too much of an overstatement to be true. But whenever I share my reads on a public platform like Goodreads or Instagram where book stories are put under the hashtag of bookstagram, I feel the result is pretty much the same as sharing them with someone in person. There are so many amazing people who are bold, uninhibited and clear while speaking their mind especially on the internet. Some of them have become such good friends of mine even though we haven't met or have no possibility of meeting in the near future. I am sounding more like the pessimist but it is true, sadly. 
One can't live on books and thus is effectively proved in a book I read two days ago. It's called, The House of Paper written by Carlos Dominguez. It came as a very timely shocker and reminder to me since I was drifting in a dangero…

Much Ado About Nothing

Doesn't that happen with all of us? At some point in our lives, there comes a moment when everything seems to dissipate into nothingness, without any meaning and further direction. There are these mocking days and then there are good ones!
And sometimes there's a delightful feeling when one thing leads to another... Today evening, I immersed in one such serendipity. It started with Ezra Pound's poem that got me and an acquaintance talking for a long hour and then I got hooked further on Homer's Illiad, Garcia Lorca's verses, Blake's Songs of Innocence and the very surprisingly lyrical Anne Bronte. I have an utterly beautiful hard back copy of Anne Bronte's Agnes Grey, and I haven't read it yet. It sits on a low shelf in my drawing room surrounded by David Copperfield and The Yearling. Anne Bronte truly took me by surprise. One of her poems, A Reminiscence tugged at my heart strings. She died very young, aged 29. Somehow I feel a close bond with writers…