The Rebelle blog

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...

I love showing people around this city I love so much! Mumbai- city of dreams, hard work, happy spirits and a melting pot of people from all over India. Truly, it gives an opportunity to everyone. So, when a school friend called up one fine sunday morning to give news that he was in town, we quickly arranged a monday meet. Place of meeting- Victoria Terminus- Trust me no one can get lost here. Although it's said that most people get lost at railway stations, not at this terminus. Our wonderful encounter started with walking past Azad Maidan, through khau galli (eatery lane in english, though its not a formal name!), catching up on the last few years. The stroll through leafy enclaves in Marine Lines made us aware we were starving throughout. A sumptuous meal accompanied with Cranberry Juice and buying Tinkle issues for ourselves which we later signed for each other made for a great laughter session. I kept pointing Art Deco structures, and spouting history too. My friend is a pa...

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...