The Rebelle blog

रिमझिम गिरती बूंदो को खिड़की से देखते हुए आज सुबह की चाय का मजा  दुगुना  हो गया। Spotify पर भी गानों  की महफ़िल जमी थी और मैं ना जाने कितने बीते हुए मौसम याद कर चुकी उनको सुनते हुए। क्या रिश्ता है बारिश का हम सभी से जो हम उसे इतना रूमानी कर देते हैं, हमारी बातों में, गानों में और यादों में भी? जैसे मुझे लगता है चाय के साथ भी हम बहुत ज्यादा गुफ्तगू कर लेते है। हर मौसम चाय का स्वाद अच्छा ही लगता हैं। चाहे गर्मियों की शामें हो, या जाड़ों की सुबहें या हो किसी गरजते हुए बारिश की दोपहर। हर शहर की बारिश का नजारा और मंज़र अलग, उनसे जुडी अनगिनत यादें और उन यादों में बसते हुए लोग। राह चलते मिले हुए चेहरों की भीड़ भी बारिशों में याद रह जाती। मुंबई की धुआंदार बारिश में कई बार बंद पड़ी ट्रेन में बैठे हुए जो निराशा होती थी वह शायद ही रास्ते पर चलते हुए ना महसूस हुयी हो। मरीन ड्राइव पर समंदर की ऊँची लहरें को देख ठण्ड से कापते हुए K Rustoms के आइसक्रीम सैंडविच का मजा ही कुछ और था। बैंगलोर की बारिश भी मुझे रूहानी लगती थी बस की खिड़की से देखते हुए। वहां पर सड़क के किनारे रूककर गाड़ियों के शोर ...

गेल्या आठवड्यापासून पाऊस सगळीकडे चांगलाच पडतोय आणि हळूहळू पावसावरचे लेख देखील वाचण्यात येऊ लागलेत. मला फार पूर्वीपासूनच पावसात भिजणं आवडत नाही. कॉलेजच्या दिवसांत देखील ट्रेनने प्रवास करताना अनेकवेळा चिंब भिजून त्या गर्दीत चढताना जीव नकोसा व्हायचा. मला सर्दी लवकर होते म्हणून देखील मी पावसात भिजणं कटाक्षाने टाळते. तर आज हा इथे लिहिण्याचा उहापोह यासाठी की एका मैत्रिणीने तिच्या पावसाळी दिवसांच्या भुट्टा खाणाऱ्या आठवणी लिहिल्यात आणि त्या वाचून मी देखील काही क्षण त्या सुंदर गतकाळात स्थिरावले.  एके दिवशी पावसात चिंब भिजून कॉलेजला पोहोचले तर तिथे आमचा स्टुडिओच गळत होता. सगळीकडे फरशीवर पाणी आणि त्या अंधारलेल्या जागेत आम्ही मिळेल त्या कोरड्या जागेत बसलेलो मला आजही लक्ख आठवतंय.  नंतरच्या आठवणी ह्या जेजेतल्या हिरव्या पटांगणावर पडणाऱ्या पाऊसधारा बघण्याच्या आणि नाचत उड्या मारत पावसाला चकवत स्टुडिओ ते कॅन्टीनला पळण्याच्या ह्या होत्या.  इंटर्नशिपच्या काळात व्हीटी ते कुलाबा बहुतांशी मी पायीच प्रवास करायचे. तेव्हा छत्री सांभाळत, हातातलं पुस्तक भिजू न देता, इतर लोकांना चुकवत तो रस...

All writers are a sum of their experiences. Heard this in an independent movie I saw on a dreary rainy morning. It might be a little delusional to write about seeing the starry night before it started raining so hard that it was impossible not to curse the fat raindrops for blocking my glasses. I ate a giant scoop of cold ice-cream that cut harshly through my teeth and sent shivering down my entire body. I walked in the rain, aware of the water gushing through the streets and through my summer sandals. I don't know why I wear them usually in the rains. Something about splashing water around the ankles makes disliking the rains a little bit more acceptable. Last night, I had strange dreams about my friends who are readers. I met them in my dream while they were tying their shoelaces, ready to spring through glass doors with yellow walls. Amusing how I can recollect these little details but not the actual conversation from the dream. One of them was crying over something and I h...

My earliest memory of a Bazaar is the one I witnessed with my Dad. As I can remember, all my first memories have been with Daddy. This Bazaar is located in a small hamlet of about 300 homes. This anecdote is from 1996. Now of course, this hamlet has grown and has a Gram Panchayat and an English Medium school- a known requirement of a fully grown village hub these days. The Bazaar would only open on sundays. It was located on a vast tract of plateau land. Children and adults alike would sit with their wares, and buyers would move through the entire area chatting with everyone. Since everyone knew each other well, barter system was quite common. Years later, the concept of Bazaars has got a new dimension. Now there are mega malls and shopping complexes instead of the humble street side sellers. Central Bazaar Districts established by the British in then Bombay, have still retained their charm and usefulness for residents. And, one such sunday morning walk through some Bazaars in...

Sometimes, my dreams are so incoherent.. not that I would like them to be rational always, but when they make sense, it feels great! Last night, I had a long conversation with one of my best friends, and such good talk always leaves me in a very happy spirit. Because I was happy when I went to sleep, I had a really happy yet weird dream today morning. It has been raining continuously throughout the night and the sound of rain partially awoke me, so that I was still half- asleep yet could sense the movements and chaos in the house. Here's what I dreamt of! I am walking on the road with my younger sister, and we stop by a stationery shop when I see some Inland letters and Envelopes on display. I ask the shopkeeper for them, and he promptly hands them over to me, when to my surprise I see my name on the envelop. Its addressed to me, complete with my name and an affixed stamp. I read it and its from one of my lost mails. (Since a few months now, my mail is not reaching my address- ...

"At night we will set our poems  adrift in ginger ale bottles  each with a clamshell rudder  each with a piggyback spider" -Maxine Kumin Today is the last day of June and there's no rain yet. The Earth is parched with the farmer's dry brow, and the heat refuses to heal the chapped lips. The gods are angry, and his children lay awake at night to sleep forever, till dawn, leaving behind those they created to battle everyday deaths. And I read poetry, trying to figure out the melancholy that leads its way to my heart. There are weddings happening in the square near where I live, and people dance to music, all frolic, brightly dressed, laden with jewellery, crackers bursting in the hot sun,  remains of leftover food lying around, and stray dogs sleeping in the shade of roadside trees. All makes for a depressing sight, and heart-breaking too. The man who sells flowers sits in a corner on a nearby pavement, busy rolling the jasmine, kewda and frangipani flowers...