Lilting music, violin sounds and a mellow afternoon- my idea of perfect time for a refreshing cup of tea and a good book that's about to end. Having spent three years with such luxury I'm spoilt to the core and often long for these afternoons. I remember my professor's warm conversations during thesis, and lazy walks through Fort. I have spent every waking moment with Orhan Pamuk and his Istanbul. Then there were times spent listening to the great Usha Uthup- she's a delight. Everything is so fresh in my mind, Her feminist decoding of 'Bindiya Chamkegi' is original and important and should be heard by every young impressionable girl. We live in such fractured times.
I came across this book of Greek mythology and a dictionary on the same while looking for some other books in my collection. While going through them casually, I came upon markings in my handwriting on comparisons with other book characters and my exasperated comments. I remembered my obsessed trips to the library to read more on Greeks and Romans, not so long ago. It doesn't feel like a decade. The very first glimpse of this enthusiasm about Greeks was during a Basic Design project which somehow landed up being an abstract design that looked like a Greek city. And, the deep meditations on Zeus, Venus, Apollo, Hera, Artemis. My favourite was Gaia- mother of Titans. I had such exuberance for all these stories, the heroes and their heroics. I don't remember how I lost it all later. I was always on a mission to know everything about this life. That zeal went missing within me. I remember being enamoured by the oil canvases in JJ, the sculptures in the fine arts ground, the annual exhibitions with those life sized acrylic portraits, fabric works, and the earthern ware. The Gulmohar whispered sweet nothings while sneaking into the library. How and where did I lose them all? Somewhere while treading on the practicalities of this world. How cruel it seems now to have abandoned these wonders that made me happy and kept my spirited self alive! I've truly given up on myself and have become one like the world. This being called a worldly self. Those nights spent looking at Kandinsky and Klee's paintings and passionately wording my profuse love for them- I miss this crazy part of myself. Growing up seemed fascinating then. When my Mint plant sprouted leaves it left me bewildered and I wish to feel the same again, from the core of my heart. I wish to smell the pineapple plant and the lavender boughs on hot summer nights again. It seems that everything lasted only for a season. The flowers wilted, leaves dried and the blossoms withered away. I long for those bygone days. Bring back Faster Fene, Gotya, Nayak, Famous Five- my heroes till today. How life seemed like an endless adventure then! My longing for the dark, deep forests still resonates when I read Longfellow. Wish we had the power to peek at least a glimpse back. I haven't conceded defeat yet. I will search for the song, and that sweet reverberation all through times to come.
And, thus begins my song of sparrows.
I came across this book of Greek mythology and a dictionary on the same while looking for some other books in my collection. While going through them casually, I came upon markings in my handwriting on comparisons with other book characters and my exasperated comments. I remembered my obsessed trips to the library to read more on Greeks and Romans, not so long ago. It doesn't feel like a decade. The very first glimpse of this enthusiasm about Greeks was during a Basic Design project which somehow landed up being an abstract design that looked like a Greek city. And, the deep meditations on Zeus, Venus, Apollo, Hera, Artemis. My favourite was Gaia- mother of Titans. I had such exuberance for all these stories, the heroes and their heroics. I don't remember how I lost it all later. I was always on a mission to know everything about this life. That zeal went missing within me. I remember being enamoured by the oil canvases in JJ, the sculptures in the fine arts ground, the annual exhibitions with those life sized acrylic portraits, fabric works, and the earthern ware. The Gulmohar whispered sweet nothings while sneaking into the library. How and where did I lose them all? Somewhere while treading on the practicalities of this world. How cruel it seems now to have abandoned these wonders that made me happy and kept my spirited self alive! I've truly given up on myself and have become one like the world. This being called a worldly self. Those nights spent looking at Kandinsky and Klee's paintings and passionately wording my profuse love for them- I miss this crazy part of myself. Growing up seemed fascinating then. When my Mint plant sprouted leaves it left me bewildered and I wish to feel the same again, from the core of my heart. I wish to smell the pineapple plant and the lavender boughs on hot summer nights again. It seems that everything lasted only for a season. The flowers wilted, leaves dried and the blossoms withered away. I long for those bygone days. Bring back Faster Fene, Gotya, Nayak, Famous Five- my heroes till today. How life seemed like an endless adventure then! My longing for the dark, deep forests still resonates when I read Longfellow. Wish we had the power to peek at least a glimpse back. I haven't conceded defeat yet. I will search for the song, and that sweet reverberation all through times to come.
And, thus begins my song of sparrows.
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