The Rebelle blog

I just returned from a weekend trip to a city I've been frequently travelling to in this year. This trip was special. It was a grand get-together of my extended family for celebrating my Grandpa's 75th birthday. The moment I entered the venue, I was greeted with the warmest hugs and affectionate smiles by my grandmothers, aunts and cousins I typically meet only during Diwali due to our hectic schedules now. The party venue was an air-conditioned banquet hall and I started feeling cold in the very first few minutes of being there when my grandma embraced me in her super warm and cosy arms. I instantly got transported back to my childhood. She is one of the nicest persons who also possesses a calm aura around herself that she radiates with a brilliant abundance. I took my grandpa's cold hands in my own and wished him a happy 75th. He immediately remarked how grown up I looked. I had to tell him it was because of my hair, all messy and tangled from the travel when he let out...

I woke up today morning smelling the sickly sweet fragrance of Champa. Perhaps it was but a dream. I sprang up as quickly as I could and walked through the house to see where the illusionary fragrance of flowers was drawing me. The house was dark and the faint light that crept from the curtained windows made me sit in the dark for nothing. I sat down on the floor in a yogic pose, drew in deep breaths of air and sat still, waiting for some feeling to flood me over. All I felt at that moment was a sombre sigh at the darkness that engulfed me. I drew the curtains and peered out at the morning glow. It left me with an awakened sense of belonging. I thought of the rising sun and my heart was awash with joy for some unknown reason. I slowly opened the windows and the gust of cold wind gave me a rare pleasure. While growing up there had been umpteen times when I stood by these windows and looked outside at the sky and the Jamun tree with its fruits squashed and spread underneath its huge l...

Everything that announces the onset of summer is here. There are watermelon mounds arranged everywhere in the market, the Gulmohar has started blooming its red blossoms prominently, the plants on my mother's garden sill have started flowering with a rage of colours and birds are making their nests on our Air conditioning unit. The hot, sticky summer nights are here and I have been gorging on ice creams almost daily. My mother has stacked our refrigerator with different flavours of home-made cold syrups. Hot nights are making people go for long walks post dinner in my town which is nice since this way everyone gets to meet each other. The mornings are still a bit cooler than the daytime but the poor ducklings in the lake prefer to stay in water and have stopped moving around the jogging track around the lake. I miss their familiar greetings on my morning jogs by the lakeside. Summer brings nostalgia too, esp, visiting my grandparents home during school holidays. Now that I hav...