The Rebelle blog

I paid a visit to my old home. It was such a surreal feeling to step into the dust, the honeyed light filtering through the window panes, inhaling the slightly musty smell made me feel extremely nostalgic. This is probably the longest that I have stayed away from this home.  Can we ever give names to the homes we dwell in over the years? I always harbored this dream of naming the homes I would live in the future. They first began with Gulmohar as my love for the tree exceeds my natural admiration for it, then came Russian names I had read in Tolstoy books, years later I became more fascinated with regional trees. Every song I heard crooning ballads about a longing for home would make me want to feel the same. When I went on trips for more than a week, I would miss this home. Every house, street, public spaces would remind me of my hometown. Yet I haven't truly ventured out for long.  Yesterday, it felt just different to be back. The bookshelves, the overflowing consoles with books,

Once more, I look at the light and cherish the cool wintry and frosty dreamlike feelings that engulf me. Such a boon to be able to feel and withdraw into this imaginary abyss of warmth with the longing one always lives with. Tonight is no different. I am surrounded with art, books, a state of mind that hovers and lingers leaving a warm effusion of belonging. The cold has a quality that bites into mushier memories leaving a song, some lyrics, music, a tear long dried, smiles and warm tones, poetry that drives me back to a time and era I hadn't been into. Just because I sense and remain in the moment to experience this December chill. And, Norah Jones croons for December, once again! Won't you come back with snow, and pine cones, sun and shades of white for me to paint? I am of course, romanticizing the idea of December, hoping to go beyond this year and begin afresh with new dreams, feeling bright, feeling kind the way a new start makes me do! Being here, warm with skies the sha

Sure sounds like a horrid and terrible title. It's a hot afternoon, not too late, 25 minutes after 12. My belly is full, my mind is abuzz with the thousand things I have to finish today and yet, here I am.  It's difficult to keep everything bottled up within the confinements of my heart. There are memories that I don't wish to forget...yet as days and months pass and now a year too, I am only able to remember slivers of them. I feel like if I close my eyes I shall transport back to that moment and relive it again. Only, alas, this doesn't happen. My memory with closed eyes and open is still the same. I don't necessarily remember the minutest details that I thought I had buried deep down in the recesses of my mind and heart. The smiles are brilliant, the words quiver away in the light and the faces shine blurrily. If only we had the power to relive the good times again and again.  I can hear the sea waves gushing in my ears as I sleep remembering you all. Th

It all began with a wedding. My friend was getting married in Kerala over a lavish 5-day ceremony last year in May. I had never been to Kerala and jumped the opportunity to attend the wedding. I bought a one-way ticket, to begin with. Little did I know that not only my stay at the wedding festivities make me fall in love with the places I was at but make me want to travel more. I met two friends of the groom who were from Poland and on their very first visit to Kerala. We decided to travel together on the train; I was going to Kochi, they were going to Allepey. We hit it off really well through the journey, talking about poetry and cities, movies, and music. Midway through the train travel when the Ticket Collector approached them, they decided to abandon their Allepey plan and join me in staying at Kochi and exploring the city. Thus, began the Kochi sojourn for three girls without a map, without an itinerary. We landed up at 3pm at Kochi and went for a stroll around 5. The evenin

Here I am, a couple of weeks after my birthday. I decided to put all my love for baking into a blogpost.  I bake a lot. It all started in 2013 when my mother got home a microwave oven. Until that point, she would bake cakes and biscuits in a cooker. I recall the number of experimental desserts and baked goods we attempted. Every weekend, My mum and I would scoop through her older recipe journal and begin working in collaboration. Some days were good, some were feisty, there were days when we had arguments over tweaking the recipes for lack of ingredients. The coolest part was however when the kitchen would be filled with the baking aroma. It made all that bickering worth it. Immediately both of us would be discussing the brown crust and texture, the color, and the aroma. Mum would scarcely need to time the baking. I am not so fortunate. I go by the book, the measuring spoons, and cups, the fancy mixing apparatus, and utter concentration. In the earlier phase of my baking, I woul

The title has got nothing to do with the dessert and yet I choose it to describe a bad day today. It so happens that after spending too much time in a happy state much like a Gulabjaam/ Gulabjaamun drenched in the saccharine sweetness of life, the occasional bitter gourd pops up to help balance our sugar levels.  Sometimes fear can take away all self- confidence we have built up. It takes days and months and years of such sustained efforts to let go of our inhibitions and come up with a stronger persona that we reserve for everyone. Then there comes a day when this fear peels away our well-developed confidence. It is crazy how time is often the only constant when such a downfall takes place. Running away is out of the question too. Do people, the ones we consider our near and dear ones understand what we are going through? Would they know how hard we are trying to fight back this state of uncertainty? The chaos-filled in my head has distracted and disturbed the balance I sought s

It's a cold night. I am sitting by the window, and the house is alive with its sounds and smells. I bought some Champa flowers in the evening, promptly put one in my hair and then forgot about it. Just as I was thinking of putting on some music to relieve the drowsiness from the day, some other work has me distracted.  We are working on some wardrobe changes in the house. I promptly work on design software and show 3D images to my parents. They still trust and go with the word of the good old carpenter (Mestry) as we call him. While rethinking for the wardrobe, I realize the vast amount of old junk me and my Dad have harnessed over the years. His is from the late '70s and mine has been sitting there as beloved childhood treasure that includes books, magazines, toys, memorabilia in the form of medals and trophies. I remember what a source of pride it used to be to collect trophies for various achievements in school. Later as I grew up, during college times the sheen of tro

Today was an exceptionally dull Saturday. It was super hot and my spirits were longing for some greens and refreshments. After doing everything possible to entertain my dull mind, right from listening to peppy music and writing to friends, I gave up and slept for two hours instead. And, how good do I feel now! A nap was all it took to put back some vigor into a drab day like this.  Ah! These summer days.  I am now poised to get back to work. A writing assignment that seems to loom overhead as I keep postponing it. A casual stroll through Facebook brought me to a friend's witty shenanigans there and I was transported back to a time of visiting him last summer. How happy do I feel to remember those moments, reliving them again and again as if on a loop. Everything stands still except me and the memories. Thankfully, I am able to reconstruct most memories the way they are in my head. I also wrote to a faraway friend over email and the simple gesture of exchanging pleasantrie

We are all where we should be!  Read this in a book today and as if on autopilot mode, my mind went back through days and months and years from my recent past. Are we all really where we should be or where we ought to belong? A Saturday as today where I have only popped medicines in my mouth and slept to my weak body's content, makes me insightful at this evening hour. All of us are together and yet drowned in our individual worlds. There's much to the situation. Unstable outside and seething inside about it.  Today morning started with a strange dream where I thought I was seeing myself because I could hear my voice except the face wasn't mine. Nor was the house where I saw myself moving about in the dream. Then I woke up and all memory and context of it is gone. I can scarcely remember any other detail although I heard my voice. It is not my nature to dwell too much upon dreams but this definitely got me intrigued until now. Then there are things that we lose

By sheer chance, I reached early today at the train station. In the past few days, there has been a crazy churning of thoughts and ramblings in my head which find an outpouring here, somehow on the train platform whilst waiting for the train. It got me thinking of the many moments and years of train travelling where there wouldn't be enough time to ponder upon all these thoughts. My twenties were spent in a hectic train travel where the journey would be either spent reading or sleeping. Since it took a good two hours minimum for travel within the city, this little break was essential for recharging the energies. The winter seems brutal this year with temperatures dipping down and me, who hasn't ever experienced the coveted "mumbai winters" find myself adjusting to the chill and foggy landscapes. The foot fracture has been troubling me. Cold has seeped into my bones and made walking painful. The inflammation makes it difficult to traverse long distances or stand for

Until you mentioned it, I hadn't bothered about the date and the day. A lot of laughter as usual but I can't seem to remember most part of our conversation. Perhaps, because you seemed to hypnotize the surroundings around you. For once, you were talking and I wasn't. It was a surreal moment to see you there after this long. Is this the defining year in our lives when things shall change? When we realise that people will not always share the same vibes as us and that not many shall complement our ways and thoughts. Or, perhaps we know this truth already. I ask a hundred questions in my head and get answers to them through your silence. The hustle bustle of coffee bars and bakeries, the sweet aromas that linger with each visit to a city we love so much binds us together. I look at the crowds and disperse with them as you stay back in my mind.  The magic in my life seems to traverse with your response and kindness. Have I always felt such dependence on you for my emoti

I missed my morning train today by fraction of a second. Sat down on the station platform seats for half an hour until the sights around me overpowered me into an irritation. While I was making grand plans of things to do as I begin work, it dawned upon me that a slight detour is putting me into such a negative spiral. Perhaps, I am taking things too seriously but then, when haven't I? Armed with a fat book in hand, waiting for the train can be a rather long ordeal. In the meantime, I see more trains apart from my destination departing the station. Secretly I envy the people who leave for their work on time, take the same train and are punctual to the core. This morning is making me churn some unwanted thoughts. All I need is some calm and quiet. The change in my routine has slightly unbalanced my composure today morning. This is also a lesson. The trivialities of life are bogging me down. Or, a missed train ride is making me think so drastically. In any case, I am looking a

आज अप्पांचा वाढदिवस! ब्यांशी वर्षांचे झाले असते अप्पा, आज ह्यात असते तर.  तीन- चार दिवसांपासून मी अप्पांचा विचार करतेय. या वर्षी, २०२० मध्ये अप्पांना जाऊन १५ वर्षं होतील! सरलीत वर्ष... हळूहळू, कधी फार भरभर. इतके मोठे आम्ही कधी झालो गेल्या दशकात हे उमगलंच नाही. माणसं स्मृतीच्या कुपीत बंद होऊन जातात. कधी आपल्या समोर असतात तरीही विस्मृतीत दाखल होतात. हा स्मृतीचा खेळ फार जीवघेणा आहे. आपल्या नकळत लोकं आपल्या स्मृती पटलावर येऊन ठिय्या मांडतात आणि काही कधीच धूसर होत नाही. जे आता आपल्या सोबत नाहीत, मनाला त्यांची आठवण किती व्याकुळ आणि बेचैन करते. सतत वाटत राहतं- आज अप्पा असते तर गोष्टी किती वेगळया घडल्या असत्या. शेवटी, मन ते! असंख्य गुंतण्याची सवय त्याला. येनकेन प्रकारे स्वतःला रमवण्यात धन्यता मानतं. कुणी असो-नसो, मनाला साथ मिळते ती फक्त आठवणींची.   काही वर्षांनी, कदाचित या आठवणींची धार पुसट होईल. तेव्हा देखील मी अशीच भावनावश होऊन लहानपण आणि त्यातलं रम्यपण कुरवाळीन. अप्पांची प्रेमळ हाक, आम्हाला बघताच पेपर दूर सारून गेट जवळ येऊन आम्हाला घट्ट कवेत घेणं; संध्याबाई, अलकाताई अशी आपल्या मुलीं

6th January, 2020. I finished my morning class and was sitting in the staff lounge when one of my senior final year students, approaches me with a cheery Good Morning. He has just returned from Bengaluru and we exchange pleasantries. Then, he presents me this brown packet with a large box of Mysore Pak in it. My eyes spark with happiness as I take it from him. This is how life responds when we are engaged in the daily grind. It gifts us happiness in the form of Mysore Pak (in my case.) Yesterday, on a cold wintry Bombay morning, I reached Kyani Bakery at Marine Lines and met my Swapbook family for a book walk through three catholic neighbourhoods of Sonapur, Cavela nd Dabul near Marine Lines. We hugged and squeaked with delight as friends met after a long time. As we started walking through the now empty Sunday morning streets in JSS road, I became aware of the buildings and people around me. Our conversations reached a zenith as we all laughed and ribbed each other in good h