The Rebelle blog

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...

Two days of inadvertent internet detoxification did me no good. Instead it served to my ever increasing anxiety of not meeting submission deadlines, missing important mails and also, feeling handicapped about not knowing the world news. I say this with such ferocity as if all this matters hugely. At that moment, it seems like it does. Mostly, our own preoccupied notions of being busy does the bit. Today is different. Everything seems so different and a soothing calm reigns over today. One of my best friends, Sneha got married today. Seeing her in the traditional wedding attire and all decked up in jewellery and make up, smiling every time the photographer asked her to, made me nostalgic of our times together. How in knowing each other since 11 years has made us finish each other's sentences, from passionate, long book conversations to feminist discussions at Anand ice creams, not giving hood to passers by and indulging in endless hours of talk. Our journey really began during...

I don't think I ever wrote about my love for postcards and postcrossing ventures here. They bring such warm memories. :) I used to eagerly wait for the postman every afternoon. After lunch, and again in the evening I would race downstairs to check mails. And, my joy would know no bounds once I saw some familiar colourful rectangular cards. I would squeal and squeak with delight. I loved reading what the senders wrote to me. Usually, about their lives, their towns, or their love for art history like mine. Every single card with its thickness and the postage stamps brought indescribable happiness to me. Those days I was going through some depressing and stressful times, on academic and professional front as well. These cards perked me up and gave me a reason to believe in kindness and the thirst for human relations across the seas and oceans, across continents. I received many cards from Germany and Russia and each one of them was so thoughtful and carefully picked for me. ...

A guy, whom I had not known for long but now is a friend, once said to me, "I want to be like you!" When I heard him say that, I was a little surprised, and maybe out of sheer amusement over his statement, could not react or I did not ask him why he wanted to be like me? Isn't it funny, how we constantly think of approvals or opinions from people, and even mull over what they think and say about us! I think of my school friend whom I got in touch with after 10 years, and thought will always now stay in touch, but surprisingly and sadly, that did not happen. We were very enthusiastic about knowing each other and filling the long 10 year gap, so we were very close for 4 years which also happened to coincide with our graduation. And, once we were out of college, we also were out of each other's lives. How much I miss our talks, the pondering over social issues, and the common high enthusiasm we shared over so many things! Initially, I was so angry and could never und...