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...

It's Christmas and I spent a lovely afternoon watching Piku. Long ago, my aunt watched this movie in a theatre with her son and daughter-in-law, and then telephoned me and said that Piku reminded her of me. This was around 2014, I think. I was so amused that I don't remember asking her what specifically made her say that from seeing the movie. Strangely, I never got around to watch Piku back then. Today was one of those holidays when a movie seemed to be a cosy choice for a lovely December afternoon. Calcutta exudes such a raw charm in the movie. I am just back from the city too. It was cold and wintry and raining for all the four days I was there. We took a short road trip through the city and onto the suburbs, 65 km from Howrah. It was 4:30pm and the skies were losing their light while the air began to get chilly. I feel like I hovered over myself now that I remember the visuals from the journey. Even today, when I close my eyes, all I see are the yellow cabs, red...

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...

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...

The railroad track is miles away,        And the day is loud with voices speaking, Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day        But I hear its whistle shrieking. All night there isn’t a train goes by,        Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming, But I see its cinders red on the sky,        And hear its engine steaming. My heart is warm with friends I make,        And better friends I'll not be knowing; Yet there isn’t a train I wouldn’t take,        No matter where it’s going. (Source: poem-a-day- Academy of American Poets) ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Edna St Vincent Millay was born in 1892 and she died in 1950. Quite Young. I am fascinated by her poems and Edna herself. She's so mysterious. So far, I haven't been able to procure any of her written works yet. This poem appea...