The Rebelle blog

BEATLES and MURAKAMI! How do I thank thee for making this evening so pleasurable?! It's one of those evenings where the calm washes over me even as I sit silently listening to the muffled sounds of the drizzling rain outside my living room window. I am thinking of Kafka and stumble upon Murakami's Norwegian Wood playlist on Spotify. You know the serenity in our minds when familiar music makes us feel the quiet pace of a long day and week. My cousin, a musician himself shares amazing music and I believe my musical affinities have since grown from interactions with him. All the troubles seem far away like the Beatles croon on this soft slow evening hour.  These moments of happiness where the flowers bloom in my head and light up memories like diamonds as I take the beauty in the mundane! The magic of the golden hour is back and I want to see how far I can make it to the finish line (if there is one!) and be always home as I explore the blue sea. 

आज रविवार. सकाळी गच्चीवर फिरताना सभोवताली नजर फिरवली आणि गेल्या कित्येक वर्षात ह्या परिसरात रहात असताना झालेल्या बदलांचा मी मागोवा घेतला. पूर्वी सगळीकडे इथे घनदाट झाडांच्या रांगा होत्या, रस्त्याच्या दुतर्फा आणि पार डोंगरापर्यंत. मग हळूहळू मानवी वस्ती वाढायला सुरुवात झाली. आधी छोटी तुरळक घरं दिसायला लागलीत मग तीन मजली इमारती आणि आता तर टोलेजंग दहा ते पंधरा मजली गगनचुंबी इमारती. जणू आकाशाला गवसणी घालण्याकरिता त्यांच्या सगळ्यांमध्ये चढाओढ निर्माण झाली. मला आता दिसताय त्या दूर क्षितिजावर धुरकट पण तरी डौलदार अशा डोंगर रांगा. लांबून त्यांच्या स्थिर दिसणाऱ्या रेघा पाहिल्यावर एखाद्या कुंचल्याने आकाशाच्या पटलावर किती अलगद सहज रंग उमटले असा भास माझ्या मनाला स्पर्शून गेला.   वारा देखील मनातल्या आठवणींना पिंगा घालत होता. मला आठवला पावसाळ्यातला तो दिवस जेव्हा आम्ही पहिल्यांदा या नवीन घरी पाऊल टाकलं होतं. नुकत्याच सरी येऊन गेल्या होत्या आणि सगळा आसमंत मातीच्या घमघमाटात प्रसन्न भरला होता. झाडांवर पावसाचा शिडकावा इतका आल्हाददायी भासला होता. पूर्वी कधीच इतकं जवळून निसर्गाशी एकरूप होण्याची संधी...

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...

On this day today, exactly eight years ago I met somebody who since then has become an essential part of my life. It began with a discussion on 'Illusions' and turned to literature, human existential crisis, historical references and has continued till today. We discuss, talk, argue, write long mails to each other attacking and defending our views on topics that range from Mughals, Indian History, Societal degradation, Art, institutions of marriage & companionship and a lot many things. This friend has influenced and channelled a lot of positive thinking into me. I usually talk of Keats and beauty and truth in the same breath while my friend carefully fragments beauty and truth as ideals and groups Keats with Gulzar. We meet only once a year and that meeting lasts for about an hour or two in which we cram Atticus & Morrie, gender stereotyping, political hoodwinking, architecture and social accountability whilst savouring the absolute pleasure of our brief meetings. ...

I never noticed before How the red flowers hang from the blue branches I never noticed before the light in this room I never noticed the way the air is cool again I never noticed anything but you But you but you So that I couldn’t sleep I never noticed what was anything but you Until I noticed you And could not help it Until I noticed you I could not help it Until you made the red flowers alive again Until the blue branches The lemons you loved, but also the way you loved me, too Until all of this I never noticed you But once I did I never minded noticing I never stopped noticing Until I noticed you I never stopped noticing Until you, I never stopped. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- About This Poem   “I have a giant piece of Marimekko fabric of blue birds sitting on big branches full of red fruit that hangs in my kitchen window and I wrote this poem while looki...