The Rebelle blog

Aging. Being in pain. Finishing. Rotting.              —Emmanuel Fournier Came across this on Poets-a-day on poets.org. I hadn't been on to this website for months until suddenly I started receiving the poems on my email. And, then I read another literary magazine in the morning, which celebrated the works of Vishnu Khare who recently passed away. I lamented abandoning my leisure days when I took refuge in poetry, esp, Hindi. It was about four years ago that on a December night I picked up some hindi literary magazines and was hooked on to their content from then on. I also wrote my first hindi poetry after a month of devouring poems by Chandrakant Devtale, Dhumil, Viren Dangwal, Anamika, Agyeya, Nida Nawaz and others. I distinctly remember being overwhelmed with the written word. I fervently copied their poetry in my little diary of quotations and from then on, I kept an art journal for all poems and literary verses that I read and liked to reread.  A reason to wri

And I write today, yet again, another day when I feel at my lowest, when these noises are deafening my senses and killing my spirits. We sit inside the walls waiting for the sounds of the television to drown this silence that has seeped through us. We are all here, within an arm's reach of each other, yet so distant that no amount of calling will again mend this shrouded family fabric. I am afraid the time has come when everything is set at such a limit that there's no going back. No more is any conversation going to make us the united people we once were. And I weep for this. My heart is broken into pieces never to join again. If only, I could truly just for once turn back the hands of time, do I see some hope. But that's not possible and hence there is no salvation. All hopes and dreams and visions we beheld for our beloved are gone into dust. They are at no point of return to us and we must meekly observe their decay as they take themselves and us in their silly gambi

So much to write! After a very very long hiatus, I am writing here with an enthusiasm that I have forever felt for writing blogs. It's been over a week that I am unwell, down with cold and a bad coughing fit that seems to swell itself in my heart and then just drown me into an endless pool of misery. Even made me thought how I have aged in a week since being unwell. The reason why I took to writing today is quite simply this- the way we slog ourselves to death on the pretext of working, earning a living, precariously swivelling on a pendulum that compromises our health so that we earn monies, our bank accounts remain fat when we lose our health, mind and deteriorate mental peace. I, also, unfortunately fell prey to this vicious cycle and ended up losing control over my health, both mind and body.  Today, as I write this, while in my workplace where I am surrounded by colleagues who are laughing loudly, discussing a myriad affairs, I feel strangely comfortable in all of this.

I found myself in the middle of a Bandh, not a new event now for Mumbaikars. I managed to reach my workplace in time, but the empty campus was a sharp reminder of how much we have surrendered our lives to these hooligans. After spending half a day doing nothing, especially since I was back after a long week, all of us decided to head home after a while. And what a timely decision to head home since the situation escalated badly after 3pm. We adjusted ourselves in the car singing songs, at the top of our lungs just about making up lyrics and making new ones. On the way, I also got a glimpse of the architectural wonders of Navi Mumbai through a very lively commentary by our colleague. My friends, Shuchi and Sarath. welcomed me and Cynthia into their house and like they say, each house carries their spirit and I could sense it in theirs. We watched COCO, the animated flick and every good film tears me up from inside, so it happened with this as well. So invested was I that I couldn&#

We fear Life. We fear Death. We fear Comfort. We fear Uncertainty. Why does fear form such an inherent part of our lives? We teach children to fear certain forces if they misbehave. We teach them to fear the dark. We teach them to fear ferocity. We end up teaching each other fear for the unknown. I fear failure. I fear to live in obscurity. I fear loss. Hard as much as I try, I am unsuccessful in controlling and confronting my fears. My imagination runs wild in conjuring the worst of situations and possible outcomes for things not in place, not yet existing. I fear my dreams too. They are ferocious and brutal sometimes, killing my spirits. I fear the time to come. I fear not being able to acknowledge my potential and capability to its fullest. And, I fear the sheer helplessness that makes me moan my anguish here.  Are we born this way? Is there a genetic factor that determines our fear scales? Why is it that nothing seems to be born out of fearlessness? We must firs

1998- what an amazing year! That was the year we moved to Mumbai. Everything was new for me. I remember my very first visit to Dr. Bhau Daji Lad Museum and meeting a painter there. She signed a photo of one of her paintings displayed in the gallery there. I was a wide-eyed 10- year old girl in awe of all the new sights in front of me. We also visited the Nehru Planetarium and Chowpatty on my first Mumbai visit. But, most of all, what I remember from that year is the introduction to some amazing kid movies I had the opportunity to see on TV. Earlier, before moving to Mumbai, I wasn't much interested in movies or TV and also, there was a limited access to DD programs.  Star Movies, I believe, broadcasted kid movies on Sundays. I watched The Parent Trap, Father of the Bride, Honey I shrunk the kids, Richie Rich on a Sunday movie marathon that spanned weeks. I vividly remember being glued to the TV set and still recall visuals of the light and colors from these movies. The swirl 

Write only if you cannot live without writing. Write only what you alone can write. - Elie Wiesel. I read this and instantly my lack of writing here in February became clear to me. Incidentally, I lost a thought today and hard as much I try to remember it, I just can't. I am quite in a tumble over this. Where is it gone? Will I never be able to recall it again? One of the major culprits is this bad habit of thinking twenty different things that the mind conjures up at the most inopportune times. I am also amazed at the way systems function in our world. There are a hundred thoughts running through my head right now. I am at once thinking about work, people, life in a perspective and so many things I ought to do but I am not.  A few minutes ago, I was telling a young friend who will turn 25 in a few days about the vitality of our hearts and that old age grips those whose hearts become old. What does being old even mean anymore? It's just a time stamp on our existence. Pe

हळूहळू मनावरचा ताण सैल झाला. उन्हात बसले, हसले, काही जुन्या गोष्टी आठवल्या. क्षणात सकाळपासून दाटून आलेलं मळभ दूर झालं. आधी छातीत धडधडलं, हात थरथरले, मग काहीतरी माझ्या आत निवळलं. आपल्या मनाला सतत एखाद्या टॉनिकची गरज असते. ते टॉनिक मी बऱ्याच दिवसांत प्यायले नव्हते म्हणून हा सगळा उहापोह. शब्दांमध्ये काय विलक्षण सामर्थ्य असतं! माझ्या मनाला उभारी देणारे, त्याला मोकळं करणाऱ्या मैत्रिणी भेटल्या. क्षणात किती बदल झाले. माझ्या खांद्यांवर एक अनामिक ओझं मी वाहत होते, ते हलकं होत गेलं. आपला आनंद, मनःशांती आपण स्वतः शोधावी लागते. विनाकारण विचारांचं ओझं आपण घेऊन फिरत राहतो.  ऊन जसजसं वाढत गेलं, तसे मनातले दुःख वितळत गेले. आपल्या अवतीभवती किती सुंदर जग आहे. आपण सगळं विसरून केवळ स्वतः मध्ये रममाण होत जातो आणि मग त्या सातत्याचा देखील कंटाळा येत राहतो. नवीन काहीतरी करण्याची उर्मी विरून जाते. जसा आनंद शोधता यायला हवा, तशीच स्वयं- प्रेरणा देखील आपण जागृत करायला हवी. फार गुरफुटून गेलोय आपण एकाच ध्यासाच्या मागे. सगळे करतात, पूर्ण जग तसंच चाललंय म्हणून त्यांच्यासारखे होण्याचा आणि करण्याचा अट्टहास आता आप

We need Change! We need a Revolution! We need to claim our rights! and the lists of 'needs' keeps on increasing. Could we truly be two different entities in a singularly obsessed world of irregularities? You contradict me point blank and I retaliate with equal ferocity. There's a moment in being when the world stops by for a minute and a soul strikes out. Just the two of us, we can make it try. We need more than one for stirring change.   WHAT IS CHANGE? Seeing the world bending to our whims, catering to our arrogance, bowing in front of us- it is more than this- in our understanding of falling down, bruising our egos, faltering in our steps. Learning from these comparative narratives of metamorphosis. I am surrounded by chaos. An unending whirl of noises and voices confused in their paradoxical worlds enwrapped in a neverending trail of sorrows and disappointments. I feel happy when someone else corresponds to my sense of mangled turbulence. It's all chur

This is my first post in the new year which has become old now by a month. I can't believe how quickly January went past in a blur. Not really a blur, since I am able to recall each day from it. I started a new job, new work place in a new town, new people and so many new adventures to begin with. I can hardly contain my enthusiasm as I rewind back to exactly thirty days ago. Life is amazing. it always introduces us to something resourceful if not what's necessary. While I am working at a new place, with new colleagues and plenty of new things to teach and learn every day, I am extremely happy to choose this opportunity. My learning graph seems to have expanded and so has my sharing graph. I am happier each day facing a multitude of events, mostly small but impacting in their own nature. I have taken to exploring the environs around my new workplace and to my delight I stumbled upon a beautiful sight one morning. A riverfront with old tall trees lining narrow paths of a m