The Rebelle blog

कॅशिअस क्ले अर्थात मुहम्मद अली. लहान असतांना वडिलांनी ज्या व्यक्तींबद्दल अगदी भरभरून मला कहाण्या ऐकवल्या त्यात मुहम्मद अली फार वरच्या क्रमांकावर. वर्णभेद चळवळ आणि संघर्षाबद्दल मला खूप लहानपणीच वडिलांकडून बरंच काही ऐकायला मिळालं. जातिव्यवस्थेबद्दल जसं तसंच नेल्सन मंडेला तथा माल्कम एक्स यांच्याबद्दल, त्यांनी सुरु केलेल्या चळवळी, त्यांचा मानवी समानतेसाठी प्रदीर्घ लढा, सारं काही खूप लहान वयापासूनच ऐकत आले वडिलांकडून. काल मुहम्मद अली यांच्या निधनाची वार्ता ऐकल्यावर वाटलं आपण ह्या सर्व जगज्जेत्यांना अमर समजत रहातो. त्यांची कीर्ती अजरामर असतेच पण ते स्वतः  देखील, अशी भावना कुठेतरी खोल दडलेली असते आपल्यात. मला आठवतं जेव्हा मुहम्मद अलींच्या मुलीने, लैला अली हिने जागतिक मुष्टीयोद्धा स्पर्धा जिंकली होती, तेव्हा त्यांची प्रतिक्रिया एक अत्यंत अभिमानी वडील या भूमिकेतून टीव्ही वर मी ऐकली होती. ते बघून आपण सुद्धा आपल्या वडिलांना अभिमान वाटेल अशी कामगिरी करून दाखवण्याचा उत्साह माझ्यात संचारला होता. ते चेहऱ्यावरून मला कधीच एक मुष्टीयोद्धा वाटले नाहीत. एखाद्या मुष्टीयोद्ध्याची रागीट मुद्रा किंवा...

It's my father's birthday today! And although, we don't celebrate it with much fanfare, though my mother bakes a cake each year, this year I've baked a cake for him, all by myself. I hope he likes it. I haven't ever gifted him anything on his birthday yet. But this year, I hope to give him a belated birthday gift by qualifying for the civil service exams that I undertook recently. Because, he has always encouraged me and allowed me the liberty to pursue whatever I've ever taken a keen interest in, I hope it will truly make him happy and proud of me. Here's a happy picture from some happy memories of us together. Love you, Dad.

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...

“We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.”  ― Anaïs Nin Something odd happens around this time every year. If I am not in good spirits and feeling low, I instantly get rejuvenated and a new energy engulfs me. If I am already doing good, then, I become more focussed in whatever task I am accomplishing at that moment. Somehow, September has always been a month of anxiety. And, that oddball song "Wake me up when September ends" finds more relevance each passing year. My mother has been unwell since a week. This is the first time I've ever seen her so weak and sick. Her two older sisters have also been battling health problems, and I only hope she isn't taking too much str...

Prof. S.Y.Madan May your soul rest in Peace, Sir. We'll always remember you! I deeply regret not meeting you. I kept thinking someday I'll visit you at your home yet didn't. You were the  Kindest person I knew at Sir JJCOA. You have been so kind and generous to me- I'll never forget it. I'll miss our conversations. JJ will not be the same place again without you.   I will miss studio sessions with him. He loved candy and Diki bought him guava flavored candies from her hometown-Aizawl, during our thesis. I remember him relishing them and enjoying and his gentle laughter. I so regret not being able to meet him after passing out of college. He was the kindest person I knew at Sir JJCOA. I have so many memories of him. Difficult to believe he's no more with us. I should have met him.. I regret it now. He was a kind soul, a child at heart and an amazing thesis guide as well. May your soul rest in peace, Sir! You will be always remembered by...