The Rebelle blog

Over time, things change to a great extent. We change too. There's no set definitions or parameters that pinpoint to these changes. We keep going through the fundamental changes in different time phases. In what ways, are we ready to experience these shifts in our inherent behavioral patterns? Can we truly focus on our natural inhibitions? I feel at such a loss of my trusting instincts that see me giving people a fair chance. Of course, the world doesn't just operate only in shades of black & white. There's the grey matter largely interspersed in between tearing through our best judging abilities. Gosh, I feel like such an idiot! Here I am venting out my disappointment and really seeking what? An acknowledgement of what happened in the many years to come? Perhaps, I will forget about it then and I dearly hope I do.  What do I do? Pull up my socks and pretend that nothing happened? Or, go through being sulky and sullen through this terrible ordeal and keep that facade po...

Such a calm, contented day today. Like every year, when this day comes there is an excitement, barrage of good wishes from friends and family and the quiet celebration with my loved ones. Last year was a lockdown birthday and so is this year. I am full of gratitude for good health, and peace of mind. I have had the means to indulge my spirits in Art and Poetry, conversations with some of my constant friends since forever. What more could I ask?  And, yet like every year, I think of my ambitions, my desires and goals and everything that I wish to accomplish with the same fervour. April comes and goes too soon. It marks a time that gives me reason to go ahead, something about the excruciating long lazy hot days puts everything else in perspective. I wouldn't have pegged myself a seasonal person, but I am. My moods aggravate and elevate with the change in seasons. Perhaps I am so since childhood but only understanding being like this in my adulthood. Funny and amusing that as I go bac...

आज रविवार. सकाळी गच्चीवर फिरताना सभोवताली नजर फिरवली आणि गेल्या कित्येक वर्षात ह्या परिसरात रहात असताना झालेल्या बदलांचा मी मागोवा घेतला. पूर्वी सगळीकडे इथे घनदाट झाडांच्या रांगा होत्या, रस्त्याच्या दुतर्फा आणि पार डोंगरापर्यंत. मग हळूहळू मानवी वस्ती वाढायला सुरुवात झाली. आधी छोटी तुरळक घरं दिसायला लागलीत मग तीन मजली इमारती आणि आता तर टोलेजंग दहा ते पंधरा मजली गगनचुंबी इमारती. जणू आकाशाला गवसणी घालण्याकरिता त्यांच्या सगळ्यांमध्ये चढाओढ निर्माण झाली. मला आता दिसताय त्या दूर क्षितिजावर धुरकट पण तरी डौलदार अशा डोंगर रांगा. लांबून त्यांच्या स्थिर दिसणाऱ्या रेघा पाहिल्यावर एखाद्या कुंचल्याने आकाशाच्या पटलावर किती अलगद सहज रंग उमटले असा भास माझ्या मनाला स्पर्शून गेला.   वारा देखील मनातल्या आठवणींना पिंगा घालत होता. मला आठवला पावसाळ्यातला तो दिवस जेव्हा आम्ही पहिल्यांदा या नवीन घरी पाऊल टाकलं होतं. नुकत्याच सरी येऊन गेल्या होत्या आणि सगळा आसमंत मातीच्या घमघमाटात प्रसन्न भरला होता. झाडांवर पावसाचा शिडकावा इतका आल्हाददायी भासला होता. पूर्वी कधीच इतकं जवळून निसर्गाशी एकरूप होण्याची संधी...

It's been a while to have engaged with my thoughts here. The humdrum of life and tapping keys here finally comes together again today on a Saturday. As I kept searching for a journal to pen down my thoughts, a look at the calendar took me back in time. I went through a meeting with my friends after a long year since the pandemic forced us down to be isolated. And then, last night I had a rather surreal dream where I met one of my oldest friends since college and it was such an exuberant meet where she appeared out of sight somehow. Then, came another friend that I just don't get to talk to anymore. It's strange how my morning turned out to reminisce about them and then I read some beautiful verses on pale pink flowers dashing through my screen.  This summer is making me feel the serenity of time. The heat is almost unbearable but there's art and poetry to engulf with and I am leaving no stone unturned to get together my senses in enjoying these moments. Text conversatio...

आजच्या दिवसाचे विचारधन ते हे की आपले श्रेष्ठत्व सिद्ध करण्यासाठी आपण इतरांना कमी लेखता कामा नये!  आज, २७ फेब्रुवारी! कुसुमाग्रज यांचा जन्मदिन.  साधारण बारा वर्षांची असताना मी कुसुमाग्रजांची "कणा" ही कविता श्री. विहंग नायक यांनी सादर केलेल्या एका कार्यक्रमात ऐकली होती. त्यांच्या धीरगंभीर आवाजाची स्मृती आजही माझ्या अंगावर शहारे आणतो. त्यांच्या कवितांचे जसजसे मी पारायण करायला लागले तसे त्यातले भाव, छटा, काव्यात्मकता अजून उमजून स्वत: कविता व्यक्त करायला लागले. पुढे काही वर्षांनी वाचलेल्या "प्रेम कर भिल्लासारखं" आणि "समिधाच सख्या ह्या" अशा कविता तसेच गाण्यांच्या स्वरूपात त्यांचा आस्वाद घेता येणाऱ्या कविता भरपूर वाचल्या. नाशिकमध्ये असलेल्या त्यांच्या स्मरणार्थ उभारलेल्या "कुसुमाग्रज प्रतिष्ठान" ला भेटण्याचा योग आला.  आयुष्यात घडणाऱ्या तर्हतर्हेच्या घटनांचा मागोवा घेताना मी हमखास कवितेच्या माध्यमातून त्या व्यक्त करते. एखाद्या लेखकाने इतक्या अचूकपणे माझ्या विचारांना लेखणीतून मांडलेले जेव्हा वाचते तेव्हा ह्या वैश्विकतेचे मला नवल वाटते. भावनांचे शब्दांतून ...

Waking up to one of those days when you feel down and out. The feeling has been building over a week and the outpouring is happening only now. Much as I try to think it out rationally and process the events that occurred with no emotion attached to them, I actually find myself sinking deeper into the abyss. I gave away my power, and now am left lurching between this moment as I pass through another. Hoping time shall heal these scratches, however on surface they look like. I am hoping that writing here will help me dissolve the unpleasantness and remove the cynicism I feel so ingrained with since a week. Talking hasn't helped so far, perhaps writing will. Life is confusing and people are afraid. It dawns upon me now how willing I was to forego my ideals and compromise just for the sake of some normalcy. Perhaps, this isn't meant to be.  Still learning to navigate these deep waters. My clarity on life's various vagaries are shifting, blurred and super chaotic right now but I...

I paid a visit to my old home. It was such a surreal feeling to step into the dust, the honeyed light filtering through the window panes, inhaling the slightly musty smell made me feel extremely nostalgic. This is probably the longest that I have stayed away from this home.  Can we ever give names to the homes we dwell in over the years? I always harbored this dream of naming the homes I would live in the future. They first began with Gulmohar as my love for the tree exceeds my natural admiration for it, then came Russian names I had read in Tolstoy books, years later I became more fascinated with regional trees. Every song I heard crooning ballads about a longing for home would make me want to feel the same. When I went on trips for more than a week, I would miss this home. Every house, street, public spaces would remind me of my hometown. Yet I haven't truly ventured out for long.  Yesterday, it felt just different to be back. The bookshelves, the overflowing consoles with b...