The Rebelle blog

Finally, after a long, long time I'm writing here. Last weekend, I attended and volunteered at a four  day brilliant pop up exhibition of second-hand books at Twice Told at Cowrks in Worli. I met friends, fellow readers, and avid readers. My excitement and energy were all over the place as I interacted and had long conversations with people who devoured books like I do. We exchanged ideas and philosophies that ranged from Rumi, Sufi saints, Architecture to cities and urban planning. It was a sheer pleasure to spend my waking hours in the company of people who read and ruminate. This was about last weekend.  This weekend, because of the terrifying rain scare, I spent it indoors at home. There wasn't any electricity for a good part of the day, but I ended up reading. Went through newspapers and the book recommendations, reviews, also rearranged my shelves, took a look at Goodreads after a very long time. Realized that I hadn't updated it with any of my reads from this...

A cancelled lunch date led my feet astray to the book treasures on Flora Fountain. This happened on a busy Monday afternoon. I promised myself I wouldn't engage my eyes on books anymore after I ended up spending a whole lot more than I usually do. It feels like an addiction, something I can't let go off. While I am sure books will and should not be recognised as harmful addiction, I am painfully aware of the fact that splurging money on anything every time we see it is unhealthy. Of course, I know the psychology and the hard facts too, but buying books feels like conquering the access way to treasures of an inexpressible happy state of mind. When I was young, losing myself in the book world was not just for the introduction into the big wide unseen world but also for the love of imagination. I was fascinated with colours and story telling, had a thirst for adventure that seemed strangely missing in my childhood as it was so pronounced in Enid Blyton's books. I could n...

I can't stop laughing over a little joke between my mother and me. I just cannot. She's giving me a bad glare, even reprimanding me for my non-stop laughter. Suddenly I feel so light headed and free of any burden. I haven't laughed this crazy in a long time, not especially along with my mother. It's amazing how these little things add up so much energy into everyday living. I am always taken by surprise by my mother's wit. She has a lively very hilarious sense of humour, one which she uses far less frequently because of us. I believe we are the reason she has turned into this worrying warrior. Well, all of us are warriors, fighters with seriousness hanging dead pan around our persona. But when the laughter hits our home, we are uncontrollable. And I am truly happy to feel this happy zing. All the worrying and misery that we (me, that is) seem to be carrying within us disappeared for a while. I love it when home turns out to be more than its expected share of miser...

काही व्यक्तिरेखा चिरतरुण असतात आणि त्या सदैव जिवंत राहतात. माझ्या मनात चिरंतर घर करून राहिलेल्या काहींविषयी मी आज इथे लिहिणार आहे. साधारण अकरा वर्षांची असताना मी पहिल्यांदा चार्ल्स डिकन्स लिखित 'ऑलिव्हर ट्विस्ट' हि कादंबरी वाचली. माझ्याच वयाच्या असणाऱ्या एका अनाथ मुलाची ती कथा वाचताना नुसतेच माझे डोळे भरून आले नव्हते तर मी ढसाढसा रडले होते. त्याचे करुण डोळे मला सारखे माझ्या नजरेसमोर दिसायचे. जगात आपल्यासोबत आपली काळजी घेणारं कुणी नसलं कि किती हाल होतात आणि त्यातल्यात्यात एका धोकादायक वास्तविक जगात आपण एकटे असतो हि नुसती कल्पनाच किती भीतीदायक आहे. त्यामुळे ऑलिव्हर बद्दल वाचताना मी खूप संवेदनशील आणि हळवी झाले होते. मी किती सुखासीन आणि सुरक्षित आयुष्य जगत होते याचं मला भान आलं. माझ्या कोवळ्या मनाला अतिशय छेदून काढणारा तो क्षण होता. त्याच दरम्यान व्हिक्टर ह्युगो लिखित आणि साने गुरुजी अनुवादित 'ल मिझराब' हि कादंबरी 'दुःखी' ह्या नावाने मराठीत मी वाचली. लहान असताना आपले भावविश्व किती स्तिमित असते. हि कादंबरी १८६२ मध्ये प्रकाशित झाली होती. साने गुरुजी यांनी लहान म...

1996- This is the year I most vividly remember from my childhood. I was eight years old and had started acquiring a new taste for literature and visual mediums then. This was the year I remember having seen Thoda sa Aasmaan that starred Deepti Naval. She was a big name then. My parents were huge fans of her cinematic work and TV was generously allowed to be explored by kids like me by parents back then. The end credit shot of a wooden door with a white lattice was permanently etched in my eyes. Years later whenever I saw latticed windows and doors I always thought of Deepti Naval standing in solitude and frozen in time. I also clearly recall watching Swabhimaan and loved Svetlana. Don't know if it was the unusual sound of the name or I was just smitten by Kittu Gidwani! I did not read Russian Literature until I was ten, so, Svetlana charmed me for a long while. I remember watching YUG based on India's Freedom Struggle and its catchy title track ringed in my ears for a long...

I sniffed Jasmine fragrance while rummaging through my mother’s beautiful sarees. I took it in and immediately a series of images floated through my mind like those childhood days when we had lots of flowering plants in our house garden. I called a friend to share this memory and she asked me about the things that make me smile. I kept thinking later and here’s a small list of happiness that I will probably read again in the future and see if the reasons that make me smile have remain unchanged. - A random pleasant memory - Remembering my Dad’s jokes - My mom’s childhood memories she sometimes shares with me - Getting hold of a book when I am not looking for it - A phone call from a long lost friend - My handwritten notes from school/college days - Rereading letters from my uncle and grandpa - Looking at kid photographs from my grandpa’s collection - Fragrance of Fresh Flowers while passing through the market - Rereading excerpts from some be...

कॅशिअस क्ले अर्थात मुहम्मद अली. लहान असतांना वडिलांनी ज्या व्यक्तींबद्दल अगदी भरभरून मला कहाण्या ऐकवल्या त्यात मुहम्मद अली फार वरच्या क्रमांकावर. वर्णभेद चळवळ आणि संघर्षाबद्दल मला खूप लहानपणीच वडिलांकडून बरंच काही ऐकायला मिळालं. जातिव्यवस्थेबद्दल जसं तसंच नेल्सन मंडेला तथा माल्कम एक्स यांच्याबद्दल, त्यांनी सुरु केलेल्या चळवळी, त्यांचा मानवी समानतेसाठी प्रदीर्घ लढा, सारं काही खूप लहान वयापासूनच ऐकत आले वडिलांकडून. काल मुहम्मद अली यांच्या निधनाची वार्ता ऐकल्यावर वाटलं आपण ह्या सर्व जगज्जेत्यांना अमर समजत रहातो. त्यांची कीर्ती अजरामर असतेच पण ते स्वतः  देखील, अशी भावना कुठेतरी खोल दडलेली असते आपल्यात. मला आठवतं जेव्हा मुहम्मद अलींच्या मुलीने, लैला अली हिने जागतिक मुष्टीयोद्धा स्पर्धा जिंकली होती, तेव्हा त्यांची प्रतिक्रिया एक अत्यंत अभिमानी वडील या भूमिकेतून टीव्ही वर मी ऐकली होती. ते बघून आपण सुद्धा आपल्या वडिलांना अभिमान वाटेल अशी कामगिरी करून दाखवण्याचा उत्साह माझ्यात संचारला होता. ते चेहऱ्यावरून मला कधीच एक मुष्टीयोद्धा वाटले नाहीत. एखाद्या मुष्टीयोद्ध्याची रागीट मुद्रा किंवा...

Last Saturday, Dad and me went to a Book Exhibition after a long time. As soon as we entered the exhibition hall, Dad turned one way and I turned to the other. We lost ourselves in the long rows of books and only met halfway through the hall after what seemed like hours of browsing. We looked up from our reverie and smiled widely after seeing each other's arms full of books. In the middle of doing all this, we also met a few familiar faces, some of Dad's friends who had come with their kids. I felt very nice to see them running through the book aisles and picking up books and shouting at the top of their lungs about them to their parents. A very gratifying feeling that there exist parents still who are nurturing book love in their children in this age of fast technology. Also, the organisers of the exhibition seemed to be very nice and kind people because they did not reprimand any of the kids for causing ruckus. Usually when I visit book stores, kids seem bored in a compact ...

Okay, I am super happy today. It was the happiest weekend I had in years. The reason being, I met my friend and the family over a function and we all enjoyed and had a lovely, peaceful, memorable time. Nobody and nothing screwed my mood nor were there any unpleasantries that lurked around as they do when the celebrations start coming to an end. Every laughter was so genuine and heartfelt that I never felt like an insider in their family. That is the best part of being well-behaved and popular with your friends and their families.  On a serious note, I had some insightful conversations with people whose opinions matter to me. And they reflected what I understand to be genuine empathy and concern for whatever I am doing these days. It is extremely important to have support systems in life be they in the form of family or friends. Today, as the International Family Day comes to an end in a few hours from now, I would say, be grateful for your family, for the unconditional lov...

I am happy and I feel guilty about it. There's so much grief and sadness and tragedy taking place around us everyday and that makes me question if my happiness really deserves a mention here. Let me express it here though. I have exams coming up in the next ten days and I've been quite stressed over all the academic work. But I have found a great source to relieve all this stress. It's called Sketchbook Express. It is an Autodesk digital painting software. I have always been wary of using software. I love handmade stuff, designs, cards everything. I just took to using it and created something from my childhood. It's a very special dream sequence.  As a kid, I dreamt of oceans and undersea kingdoms a lot besides dreaming of aeroplanes and skies. So, here I was recreating my childhood fantasy world. I was a huge believer and admirer of Mermaids and Magic. Just the other day my younger sister asked me if I ever felt disappointed by the fact that magic was not real,...

My Dad is on a cleaning spree today. So, I joined him too. We started from cleaning the Air Conditioning unit. Much to my Dad's chagrin, a pair of pigeons had set up their luxurious abode behind the unit. I pulled a face at the items we found in the nest; long thin knitting needles, chocolate wrappers, cotton, pigeon poop, yarn threads and pen refills. My Dad meticulously cleaned the area, sprayed a disinfectant over it and dusted the cobwebs off the external walls. It was a lot of work. Dad is like a superman with a vacuum cleaner and I was his glad assistant. It's fun to work with my father. He cracks jokes and tells me his school memories, we often end up laughing for long hours. Tomorrow we are cleaning the old trunks and the books inside them. Since we are running out of space now in our house for stocking newer books, Dad and me have decided to have a look inside the trunks and chuck unnecessary material. Both of us have an undying love for the old. We store magazin...

I began photography when I was 17 and my Dad gifted me an expensive Casio Digital Camera for college. Prior to owning a digital camera, I had only clicked pictures through a 35 mm Kodak camera. My father never refused me the access to his camera and even printed the pictures I had clicked which sometimes were blurred, or in tilted angles which we can say, bad quality pictures. He would sit me down and explain me the techniques of holding the camera, looking through the lens and at the subject, arranging a frame and such details. After I got the Digital camera, I made a great use out of it. Wherever and whenever I travelled, my camera would be packed first. It gave me a great sense of freedom of storytelling as I captured numerous images and almost became the official family photographer. Both my great grandmothers were alive till 2007 when I clicked many of their pictures. Unfortunately, my grandpa died in April 2005, and it always made me sad that I could not click his pictures ...

Suddenly after a regular, mundane week of carrying the same activities comes a day like today. I am super happy. I revived my National Geographic account on the internet and posted a few entries. They received such a tremendous response that this encouragement has made me look at everything in a new light. Suddenly, everything seems full of life and lively vigour and my spirits have undergone a positive change. I feel that the spark I felt was missing is here for me to reclaim and embrace again. I wish to share a photograph here that is very dear to me. I clicked this last year during a Christmas vacation on a hill- station with my family. All of us went for an evening walk to see the sunset and hill tops tend to surprise walkers. We were transfixed by the changing soft glow of sun and the incessant chirping of birds that seemed to magnify its sound over the quiet walkways. Somewhere between walking through the uphill roads, my father stopped and took out his cell phone to see th...

My first computer was in 1998 and I remember being excited, curious and a bit nervous about handling it. Dad showed me how to switch it on and off and the first application I ever worked on was MS Paint. My first drawing was a house or an attempt of drawing a house, that is. The neighbourhood uncle came and saw me painting on the computer. He stood next to me and was surprised at my Dad letting me use the new machine, his words. It was wonderful. I would come home from school and use the computer, mostly paint. One of the themes that played while the computer started was "Can't fight the moonlight" sung by LeAnn Rimes from the movie, "Coyote Ugly". I was very amused and fascinated by the starting lines of the song. To a child, new things bring lot of joy. My Dad taught me using Word, Power point and it was a great source of entertainment to explore and make new slides in PP. Internet was not yet available back then at my place. But I was too young to use i...

Sleep eludes me at this hour. Although I feel strained physically, my brain seems super active. I would like to sleep, but lot of thoughts and ideas keep clashing in my mind. My Dad surprised me today with a giant Phaidon Press book on 20th century World Architecture. It's humongous, literally. I have always wanted to build up an architecture collection at my home library. A Phaidon Press book is like a dream come true. It seemed like a luxury to buy when I was in College. I hungrily devoured the index and happily got lost in the pages. Sometimes its overbearing to be capable of feeling so much joy! A school friend who is visiting after seven years has been pumping positive energy and lots of happy spirits into me. I realize, I was once an extremely happy person. Not that I am unhappy now. But that spark seems missing. Of course, my brain knows we all grow out of our likes and dislikes in life, and hence, I feel normal about this current state of mind. I shared the phai...

It's my father's birthday today! And although, we don't celebrate it with much fanfare, though my mother bakes a cake each year, this year I've baked a cake for him, all by myself. I hope he likes it. I haven't ever gifted him anything on his birthday yet. But this year, I hope to give him a belated birthday gift by qualifying for the civil service exams that I undertook recently. Because, he has always encouraged me and allowed me the liberty to pursue whatever I've ever taken a keen interest in, I hope it will truly make him happy and proud of me. Here's a happy picture from some happy memories of us together. Love you, Dad.

Ever since I was a child, I heard my Dad constantly speak of moral values to me. And not just speak about them, I've seen these being practised too. Integrity and Character are two important assets that I've learned from my father. He always stressed on importance of character in a person. To him, honesty, morality, integrity, compassion are not merely words or virtues but essential components (yes, I use this word!) for all of us to live with in this world. So today something happened that shattered my belief in honesty of character. I kept thinking about how idiotic people like me exist in this world who still trust people with all their heart. We mustn't, clearly. But then it also made me think about kindness and the loyalty that still exists. So why are there such contrasting feelings being played by people? What joy do certain people get from breaking someone's trust? My anger subsided relatively easily when I realized that we cannot take responsibility for peop...

Oh, how happy I am! It's always a joy to know new things. I attended a public lecture last night on Ancient Board Games in India and World. It was a fascinating insight into something that originated centuries ago and then spread and grew all over the world. I am not into games. I never was. However, I attended the lecture because it was conducted by Dr. Irving Finkel who is also a curator of the cuneiform tablets from Mesopotamia, at the British Museum. I have a rather high regard and respect for museums, ever since I was a kid. My Dad being the reason. I remember our city trips in summer would be to the museums. Mumbai has two: The Prince of Wales now known as Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Museum; and Dr. Bhau Daji Lad museum. We always attended the exhibitions and spent hours on end, watching transfixed the sculptures, paintings and exhibits. It was all I could ever want from my father- Time and wisdom! Museums are an education in themselves. My first impression of Dr. Bhau ...

As I have written here in so many posts, all my childhood memories with Daddy are beyond precious. Him and me shared very little time when I was young because he was posted in another city and me & my mother lived in another small town. He came home on weekends and those two days, Saturday & Sunday, were my days with him. I would accompany him everywhere, wherever he went. To the market, the artillery canteen, to the town on long scooter rides. We would deliberately go around faraway places and then he would stop the scooter by the road where hundreds of Gulmohar trees stood tall, way back in 1995-96, almost twenty years ago. Dad would make me sit on the scooter and pluck Gulmohar flowers or sometimes he allowed me to stand on the scooter seat and reach for a bent Gulmohar branch. We would then sit for a while watching the vehicles drive past on the road. Back then, vehicles were a few and the roads were often empty. I remember those breezy encounters on Hamara Bajaj towa...

I am a crazy reader. Even while typing this sentence all that came to my mind were the book bags, book shelves and stacks perched on the sofa of the living room of my house. I am also a collector of antiquarian books. So I can't resist picking up two copies of the same book if they happen to be rare editions. Ever since I have known Ahalya, the librarian and bookstore owner of Trilogy I have been the happiest soul I was on the planet. This girl is exactly me. I saw myself in her. She is the mirror I must have been looking for. And, its no mean coincidence that our names take their form in an old Indian epic. That's particularly funny, even I think so. These days, Ahalya and me have started communicating through a messenger app and its such a boon. I continuously bombard Ahalya's phone with book cover jpegs and she enthusiastically responds over it. Initially I thought it would be an imposition on her. I lost that dreadful thought soon enough. Its an absolute bless...