The Rebelle blog

And, my long absence in March here made me long for April. Because somehow as I always feel and say, April transforms the mood magically. Something beautiful turns over and brings a vitality to the season. I don't mind the heat at all. My first Murakami is from a kind fellow reader with whom I connected after reading his short story revolving a cat. I immediately sensed my friend is a Murakami fan. And thus began my Murakami reading. For years, I have postponed reading Murakami under the pretext of doing it later.  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ So, I wrote a year ago here and left the writeup as a draft. I am back now to this post after a year and let me see how I look at what I was writing back then.  I finished a couple more books by Murakami over the past year, indulged in passionate, euphoric talks of his writing style, appreciated his witty and sardonic remarks. Listened to Norwegian Wood more than I had ever...

Why do Yesterdays seem better than Todays?  Just when I was pondering over this thought, I came across a British Adventurer, Tom Morgan going on a trip  Around the World flying with helium balloons .  He seemed inspired by the 2009 movie, Up  where a seventy-eight-year-old man goes on an adventure in his flying house carried by balloons. It was such a visually beautiful imagery to see those colourful balloons tied up to the house through its chimney stack lifting the house and then soaring high in the skies.  Photograph: Pixar/Sportsphoto Ltd/Allstar These two images conjured up beautiful emotions within my heart. Human lives are full of adventure and the endless possibilities of finding magic in the most bizarre situations. The various factors that bring in all this happiness and love for new are possible only when people take an initiative on their own. The treasures of this life are left hidden for us to discover and find ourselves in ...

I was going through an emotional turmoil last night and used this blog to vent out my grief. Sometimes, well, only a few times, I wonder if my understanding of grief, misery and sorrow is the same that everyone goes through or I am severly meddling these confused emotions I can't seem to word out. Whichever way it is, I felt incredibly better after writing everything here, and I am trying to assert my mind into believing that THAT which hasn't happened yet and perhaps won't take place shan't worry me and cause me distress or unncesarry panic. I suppose I already should be alert at the use of such negative energy bubbles into my conversation here. I am throwing caution to the wind and deciding not to think about anything at all. My heart goes into a ballistic mode once I conjure too many multiple scenarios in my brain and then as if ticking on a machine, it starts weaving these elaborate sequences I deem fit only for fictional accounts. Hemingway wrote A Moveable Feast...

My Dad misplaced some medical records in our house and we spent pretty much the entire day looking for them. Almost searched every nook and crany of our newly renovated house. It has been a taxing day more so for me because I had been travelling for two days straight in one of my  most uncomfortable & harrowing train travels ever prior to landing up in this search mission. Now, I've caught an allergic cold from all the dust and still no success in locating the records. So, it has been a very unexpected gift only because I was proudly boasting last week about my immune system and how healthy I am while my family fell ill with allergic cold and from the heat. Life has a way of getting back at us. Is it Karma? Who knows? I certainly don't believe in it. May be, a tiny part of my brain dwells on it but never with full faith. Another unexpected gift has been the surprising retrieval of two design manuals I'd misplaced and thought lost. One of them is an Accessibility Desig...

I just got some news about something I was eagerly awaiting for since the past few months. I am supposed to be happy but I am not. Clearly the focus and attention from the said news has lost its value for me. Isn't is quite common to find that something we long for loses its prospects after sometime? Especially if these prospects are regarding employment. Career shift. I can't quite fully fathom in what terms this move will reward my future. Will it tie me to a stagnant post or will it truly let some practical issues be sorted out and declutter the existing chaos? I wish I had an idea about everything that happens the way it does. Right now, my brain is in a frenzy. There are times when I wish I had a more diplomatic bone in my body so that I could not let everything get by so easily around me. Once we get comfortable about a position, chances are we rarely lead ourselves to experiment and step up further. It's like the classic life move for women; study, graduate with go...

Dylan Thomas wrote this and I am merely reiterating his words. How difficult it has become to be gentle! Or must I put it this way, how difficult is it to be gentle? I write here thinking about how cruelty often marks our hold on compassion. I feel too terrible about unleashing my fury on an innocent person, somebody I care for and would not like to put down with meanness. I wish I could just turn skip that moment in time and then behave calmly as I usually do. I cannot bear this guilt. How many times have I acted like this? The more I think of it, the more it kills me. I ought to reprimand myself. Everyone is trying their best. We cannot fight our battles with someone else just because we are not done with fighting with ourselves. It indeed is very exasperating to carry such a burden in our hearts when we could be doing so much more with a clean conscience. The more I write here, calm washes ashore all over me. This has been a lesson. Sometimes in my overstretched reverie, I see...