The Rebelle blog

....find balance and keep the circle flowing!  I woke up today to find myself entirely unable to cope up with the change in weather after having spent the last few days transitioning between different places. That feeling of being lost, and not able to pin a certain emotion as to how I really felt pushed me into a deeper abyss of chaos. My mind was reeling with a thousand clumsy thoughts of not belonging to anywhere whereas I wanted to, so badly.  Come evening, and I unleashed my chaos on to a paper with a yellow paint. Strangely it felt so calm and familiar as I kept going around in circles with the paint brush. The swirls kept moving around in all directions even as my mind kept wandering between people and their stories and my own unfinished conversations with them. I took to writing in my diary everything that happened over the past few days and yet as I went through some pages, I felt like an outsider getting to know little details from a stranger's life. I have had this ...

It's a blur since a few days, once again. I am home!  There have been good things and bad, and events that surprised me out of nowhere. I hadn't anticipated knowing and learning so much in the past few days of being back here. Mostly, the realization of being so conversant with my thoughts again has changed how I feel here. All it takes is a slow Sunday to reflect upon everything that's happening.  More than a week ago, time seemed to loom ahead in an expansive quantity. Now that I am writing here, I realise how much of it I have squandered. We always ponder and regret but never enjoy when we are present in the moment. Old habits die hard. As Simone De Beauvoir once wrote:  I'm not tragic these days, I don't weep, but I feel alone, bewildered, far from you, far from everything — nothing has any meaning. I feel this departure from my old self. I am self-reminiscing the old times and me in it but would not like to continue doing so. Yet, I think about it constantly si...

Early in August this year, I went to a book exhibition with Shree and we spent a delightful four hours amidst all that treasure trove. That day, I had to let go off a few books including Ruskin Bond's The Writer on the Hill and I regretted it for a while.    Last Saturday, while strolling through the familiar lanes of Fort, I found myself walking towards Strand Book Stall and once inside, lost in its charm. To my delight, I saw a lone copy of Ruskin Bond's anthology of selected fiction and non-fiction nestled among Harry Potter's new shiny editions. Mr Bond shines from anywhere. Before anyone else came to claim it, I pounced on it and held it close. Many of the stories are from his books on Dehra and Mussoorie. I have read them all before, have them memorized since my growing years. His charm never fades away. December reads are always special.  This year is coming to an end. I can still recollect the first day of 2017 and how I spent it. Every single detail. Yet it...

I severely despise drama, melodrama, malaise of all kinds. And yet here I am spending an October Saturday in misery over the way people can't deal with their problems. Anger and Anxiety are going to be the death of this world. Just last night the news reported a survey of 31% officegoers suffering from office-related stress in my city. I actually feel that number is at least 91%! If only all of us learnt to live (and, lie alternately) in harmony and in unison, there would be no stress and participation in such grisly surveys. But, this is life and we are the saddest lot in it. Unfortunately, I am not in my very best spirits to write here, but in the hopes that writing shall cure me of my endless suffering, I unleash my fury at the world (and, myself!).  Just today morning, I told a friend that "all conditioned things are impermanent," and while it is true generally, today it doesn't feel so. Somehow, hatred and anger and vile things have become a permanence in o...

There's a LIVE timebomb ticking within all of us. Isn't it slightly infuriating to be at the helm of such anxiety and nervousness? A number of things that could make us miserable, change our cheery demeanour to a sullen state of chaos, unable to comprehend the workings of this complicated system. We are all beings in a fixed mechanism of state and individual power. We are controlled by forces we live with daily. They include our people from our families, workspace, acquainting life sphere. The set of rules bogs me down each time I look at a detached view of this being. Since I am alive in this great era of science, modernity and opportunities, why does it still seem inadequate? Like every other parent-children disagreements, I am seething with one too over the most mundane and silliest of topics. Such is life. I think it was Anais Nin who wrote that "I am a series of moods and sensations. I play a thousand roles...My real self is unknown." How I so appropriately...

Best to meet in poems: cool speckled shells in which one hears a sad but distant sea.   When writers go to some dark spaces and then pull out of them to unravel the brightness specking the surroundings, that's when we enter this happy sojourn into their world. How many times have we heard about everything that has a reason, a time, a place? Somedays my nights are spent excessively dwelling upon this reasoning of time. How do we really get into and out of this catacomb of emotions so frequently and so easily? I just finished reading two works of fiction, both intense emotional dramas and my heart couldn't stop from beating hard for the people in them. I shipped them when they fell down and struggled to move on in their fictional lives. No comparing our complex lives on hand, but isn't fiction the escape from reality?  The more I think about necessities and lost opportunities, the more I revel in the knowledge of self-evaluation. Anyway, this is the l...

पुस्तकांच्या आणि निसर्गाच्या साथीत जेवढा वेळ छान जातो आणि सार्थकी लागल्यासारखा वाटतो तितका खचितच कुठेतरी अन्यत्र वाटतो. नवीन वर्षात केलेल्या संकल्पांपैकी एक म्हणजे वाचलेल्या प्रत्येक पुस्तकावर स्वतःचं विवेचन लिहिणं. सुरुवात तर झाली आहे. साहित्य संमेलनाच्या निमित्ताने आणि वर्ष अखेरीच्या पार्श्वभूमीवर मुंबईतल्या बऱ्याच बुक स्टोर्सनी भर भक्कम डिसकाउंट जाहीर केला होता. मी देखील नाही नाही म्हणता लोभाला भुलून पार ATM मध्ये जाऊन पैसे काढून पुस्तकं खरेदी केलीत वर्षाच्या शेवटच्या दिवशी. टिव्ही वरच्या असंख्य कार्यक्रमांवर नजर फिरवल्यास असं चित्र दिसतं कि समाजाच्या नैतिक मूल्यांशी कार्यक्रम बनवणाऱ्यांच काहीच घेणं-देणं दिसत नाही. माणसांची पतच एवढी रसातळाला गेली आहे कि कपोलकल्पित आणि वास्तव जग यांची चांगलीच सरमिसळ आपण करून ठेवली आहे आणि त्यातून बाहेर पडण्याचे आपले काहीच मनसुबे वाटत नाही. आज सकाळी विचार करता करता माझ्या असं लक्षात आलं कि आपण किती उगाच खलबतं करतो, आपला दुरान्वये संबंध नसलेल्या गोष्टींबद्दल. काल रात्री जेवताना मी कुमार केतकरांचं "बदलते विश्व" हे साधारण दहा वर्षांपूर्व...

I was hoping to write more consistently when December started but alas, I haven't been able to write as much as I hoped to. Last few weeks have been a blur, mostly, occupied with academics and lots of insignificant stuff I haven't had the opportunity to analyse yet. I have a feeling I will end up over-analysing this state of mind unless I speak with my friend, Shree, first. We share a great telepathic wavelength. We connect so instantly even after a long span of no conversation that sometimes I truly think technology won't be a necessity if either of us were stranded on a desert island. Also, since it's December, it means I will be writing about my unfinished reads and to-reads. Over time I have started recognising the presence of the humongous pile of books I've amassed in these last two months that sit huddled on a sofa chair in the living room. Most of them bear signs of my having handled them, with marked coloured passages that really make me happy when I thin...

I watched a very insightful movie yesterday titled, People like us . While watching, it dawned upon me how we tend to run away from things when they seem to get a little complicated. Our best mechanism is holding still and then harbouring the hurt. What I most liked from the movie was never giving up this search for our true selves. If we think and believe in something that feels right to us morally, we should do it. And Family always accepts you, no matter what happens.  So there are these rules that an uncle tells his young nephew which were told to him by his now deceased father. I like the interpretation of them in the movie and definitely think they could help us cinema-goers too, outside the cinema house, in our lives. “The six rules of life. 1. Don't like something just because you think other people will like it, because they won't.  2. What you think is important isn't. What you think is unimportant is.  3. Lean into it.  4. Don't shit wh...

One of my quieter friends, while on a trip to a beach standing on the ferry showed me some seagulls flying above the muddy waters. He said, look above you and stretch your vision as far as you may so that you remember this moment and me. I was so overwhelmed with the surroundings and his words, considering I was very young then, that I kept my eyes focused on the flying seagulls for a long time until our other friends dragged us out of the ferry. Such a sweet, passing moment but one that still finds me in the grip of memories till date whenever I think of that trip. My friend reiterated how he found melancholy in the flight of the seagulls and because I was a tad too softhearted back then I saw myself searching for the sorrow and misery of their flight. It didn't help that we both spoke about the passage of time and our tirade through the bouncing college life that we were supposed to leave in another year or two for our graduation. I kept the conversation in my head for a long t...

Good writers read more, then do good readers write more? I have always been quite fixated on counter-questioning everything I read/see/hear. This became more prominent during Architecture school. In a sorts, it was the perfect place that allowed me the time and opportunity to become what I wished to. I never possessed a rebellious streak. School was more about competition for the top three ranks. It did not foster the kind of person I would have liked to become. It was cut-throat competitiveness over grades and being teachers' pet. Every child seemed to vie for attention from teachers. It didn't help that my class was full of smart kids, who excelled in sports, the school curriculum and popularity among peers. Since thinking about those days, I now laugh over how each one of us wanted to outsmart everyone else. Architecture really gave an open challenge to a lot of people I met in the beginning. It was supposed to be the creamiest of professional courses, something tha...

Four months into the year already. How quickly is time running by us! One moment it was the first day of a new year and the next, we are onto the beginning of summer. Each year, I go through the April anxiety I have lived for the past decade. It is a divider between my to-do things in year and the ones I've accomplished. Somehow, the first three months always are terrible. I go through a lot of disappointments till March. Probably it is because I am always unsure of what I am supposed to do and I cannot get out of the 'will fail' mindset. But then April arrives and everything turns over, takes a new leaf over my messed tree of thoughts. Something about time is so colloquially apt in our lives. Our race is not against time, but against ourselves. I don't hint to the past or the future but the present in which we struggle so hard to establish our existence on the timepiece. My Dad always said to me after I failed at something that there's always a next time . I ...

So March is about to end in three days. I have written a blog post every day in March, consistently. And I am so happy and proud to have stuck to my resolve of writing daily here. It is wonderful to have thought of so many things daily and have the opportunity of sharing them here. Writing without any inhibitions. Of course, this has made me realise how difficult it is to continue something every single day without pulling any stops on the way. It's not easy to write daily. You know, open the computer, think of words to come out on subjects that vary from feminism, poetry to childhood memories. It does help that these happen to be my favourite things, my areas of interest and so I can speak, write and also read about them tirelessly. It takes even less time to develop an idea into the core of issues to fully fathom what it really means to me. The effects of everything that I have been living daily through reading, seeing things the way they are and choosing to delve into them...

Love words, agonize over sentences. And pay attention to the world. - Susan Sontag. Time is stronger than sorrow. - Mahashweta Devi. Two of my favourite writers teach me about love, sorrow and its gradual burial by time. How I wish life were not 'this' complicated. For every written word, there's a wrong interpretation and a big misunderstanding. Guess we earn all the sorrow and misery that love and words bring with them. If only, human mind and tongues were not twisted in such a vile way that we destroy hearts and people and take pride in doing so. Here's wishing Gabriel Garcia Marquez a very happy birthday and my deepest respects. Had it not been for reading his Colombian journalistic articles, I would have remained gravely unaware of the political and social unrest brewing there for decades. Reading Gabo's (as he was fondly called) accounts of the everyday militant brutality in Latin America in the 60's acquainted me with civil society's worst...

It is completely amusing that I read this following poem in another blogger's Poem-a-day subscribed blog posts. While it does speak of love's longing and yearning, it also essentially sums up that everything we have lost was because its time had come. The purpose in our life was fulfilled and that's why we lost days, love, friendships, dreams, things/people who were closer to us- this is the classic clichéd way of explaining certain events in life. I certainly don't subscribe to them. Yes, we lost things and people. But that's about it. It should not make me cold-hearted to feel that what was gone shall be lost forever. That is why we have memories. This poem however is different. It should be seen as something that laments the going away of events and people, but it also renews hope in a way as you read it. After all, WE live on hope and faith that will surpass all sorrows and pain to lead us towards new beginnings of growth and creation. This is a philosophi...

Some books never leave us. They remain fixed in our minds and psyche. One such that remains in mine is A Tree grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith.  The title of this novel refers to a tree that grows persistently up through the concrete and harsh conditions of a poor tenement neighbourhood in early 1900's Brooklyn. It also symbolises Francie Nolan's struggle through her life. When I first read it in 2010, I was going through a very important academic submission- an Architecture  thesis. As I read through the pages, I looked at Francie as myself. I grew up with her along the pages. She lived in me. I remember sobbing, and crying while reading her plight but she also gave me tremendous courage and filled me with an undying fighter spirit. The book was written in 1943 and describes a turn of the century story of the Nolans from 1900-1919. I recall reading and visualising Francie sitting in the Fire Escape harbouring dreams of an education and better life for her family and herself...

कभी सोचा ना था के यह मेरे साथ भी होगा।  पर मैं तो अक्सर बहुत कुछ सोचती नहीं और वह होते रहता हैं। जब तक उसका एहसास हो, वह बात और समा गुजर चुके होते है। क्या यह मेरी कमजोरी है या मेरा अँधा विश्वास लोगों पर, चीज़ों पर, वक़्त पर? शायद बहुत ज्यादा मासूमियत से बर्ताव करने की आदत हो चुकी है मुझे, इसलिए ऐसे जब कभी मन को ठेस पहुँचती है तो सहा नहीं जाता।  खैर, अब ये उम्र ही क्या और ये ज़िंदगी ही क्या जिसमे गिले- शिक़वे ना हो? अपने आप में रहने का कोई मकसद नहीं ना ही खुद को जलाकर रौशनी फैलाने की चाह रखने की उम्मीद रखे। दुनिया बड़ी जालिम है जनाब, कही हम यहाँ आकर अपने आप को ही ना मिटा दें। बस इतना याद रखें की ज़िंदगी बहुत छोटी है, जो गुजर गयी वह कल की बात थी। आनेवाले सूरज को अपनाओ, इतने से तो लम्हें हात लगें है हमारे। 

Only in time is time remembered. - T.S. Eliot. How right Eliot was! Exactly eight years ago (WOW! That long already) I wrote my first blog post on Indian social system which I deleted after a few months. I have no inkling why I did that. It was about the Hindustan Times sponsored Advertisement 'Tum chalo toh hindustan chale,' roughly translated as 'Walk and India walks with you.' I distinctly remember writing it after getting worked up during a humanities class in school about social inequality in India. Strange that after eight odd years, I am studying Indian Polity. If I could see future, I would be proud for my stand in those humanities classes. T.I.M.E- valued greatly and generally misused by all of us. I love journals and diaries that document our day to day lives. I am a big believer in writing as a therapy. Yes, it works far better than breaking objects. As a kid when I made mistakes, Dad would always reprimand me by asking me to remember the date and t...

It's that time of year, Leave all (y)our hopelessnesses aside (if just for a little while) Tears stop right here, I know we've all had a bumpy ride(I'm secretly on your side) These are my favorite lyrics! In times of sorrow, or festivities and especially on a really rough day, I just hum to myself a few lines and wait for the magic to clear my thoughts! So this year has come to an end, only two more days to wait for 2014--- I have a feeling its gone by quickly. I still remember what I did last year i.e, in 2012 and I wonder if my life is moving at a supersonic speed?! Usually, I never question myself as to how the year went by but this year I feel like and want to ask myself everything that passed by me! I am glad for some nice people who have entered my life and spread cheer and happiness within me. Some events were memorable, and some were worth forgetting. Some people I am immensely thankful to and some I am willing to forgive with all my heart! This is how on...