The Rebelle blog

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 have been reading a lot of Hindi Poetry lately. My interest sparked after reading a few poems in a book diary. Thereafter, I got hold of hindi magazines like Hans, Dnyanodaya, Pakshadhar, Bahuvachan, Vagarth, Pahal, Udbhawana, Kathadesh, Aahwaan and poetry books on Agyey, Raghuvir Sahay, Chandrakant Devtale. The other day, I was reading an article by Gulzar in a sunday supplement. Therein, he mentioned of what drives him to write poetry. I got influenced by his words and promptly took to penning down mine, Since, I've been reading a lot of poetry these days, my first two poems took shape quite easily. I'm posting a poem here that's essentially memories of my father and me from my childhood. This is my first attempt at hindi poetry. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- बचपन की यादें किताबों में खो जाना पाया विरासत में उनसे मैंने। खो कर ...

I am a Bajaj Kid! I belong to that generation of kids who grew up riding on Bajaj Scooters and listening to '....Buland Bharat ki buland tasveer- Hamara Bajaj.' And, what fun memories do I have of our scooter! I distinctly remember the time Dad bought it home. I was Four years old, and stood in the doorway eagerly waiting for my Dad and Uncle. It was getting dark and then, I spotted them. Don't remember much from the night. It is blue-coloured and the number plate is 8847- I remember Dad once told me the trick to remember the number plate. He asked me, What is the height of Mount Everest? It is 8848 m. Isn't it an easy number? he asked. I never once forgot it since. Years later, I however, had some trouble memorising our Car number plate. There was no logic there to help me. I have fond memories of travelling on the scooter with Dad during summer holidays. We would ride outside Nashik and then stop by the roadside under Gulmohar trees. Dad would help me pluck the fla...