Thursday, July 27, 2006

Pond of dreamz...

Photo by - Endevourme

Someday...i would like to climb mount everest and looking at the thick blanket of clouds below, see sunrise from the top
Someday...i would like to be a new born baby and start it fresh all over again
Someday...i would like to join back perfectly a broken glass
Someday...i would like to swim in the blue ocean and play with dolfins
Someday...i would like to fly like a bird on vast unending land, then cross borders without passport and visa, and think what i had lost and gained being human
Someday...i would like to go to the moon, point my finger towards beautiful earth and say "do u see that blue planet?.... you know i have been there..."
Someday...i would like to go straight, take left then go straight, take left go straight, take left go straight and then wonder how i reached the same place again
Someday...i would like to live in a jungle, get wet in rain and then drink hot fuming tea
Someday...i would like to grow very very old, and then sit in a chair and tell big...big...stories to small.. small.. children
Someday...i would like to sit relaxed in sand, sipping orange juice listening to the music of waves
Someday...i would like to become a crow and join weekly meeting of crows on our terrace, discussing about rain conspiracy, 'Yeh saajish hain boondonki...'
Someday...i would like to become a music director, deremix® 'oooo hoozoooooor...' and make a new album on gramophone
Someday...i would like to discuss with Albert Einstein about solution on corruption and see all his hair standing up straight
Someday...i would like to run alone in olympics, and win first second and third place at the same time
Someday...i would like to dive deep into ocean where Titanic sank and find the diamond necklace dropped by Rose
Someday...i would like to lie down below clear open black sky on a cold night with a blanket, counting stars, wondering how small we are...
Someday...i would like to find the key, open the door and run through vast open grass field and shout, 'i.... am...... free...'
Someday...i would like to know, why HE made me?...

Thursday, July 20, 2006


Photo by - Endevourme

Since when i can remember, we had pets in our house. Cats and dogs, that too in huge numbers. In my grandma's house, one day came a small cute cat. We liked her so much that we kept her , her daughter then and her daughter as well. During these three generations i learnt and understood a lot about them.The first one came when i was a baby. I dont even remember when she came and got mixed up with our huge combined family. She was black and white. I still remember playing with her, when i too was of the same size as hers. Often we kids used to pull her tail, touch and play with her kittens, but she never hurt anyone. Those baby cats were so sweet, we used to give them milk in a saucer and those small buddies used to get into the saucer and and go to sleep there. Apart from the pet-cats, some other cats used to visit our house. One of them even used to sleep on my bed. It is scary to wake up at night and find two round shining eyes of predator gazing at you.

We had a dog too, our own dog, moti. Not like foreign dogs we see now a days, but old styled, indian one. He had dark hair and used to look like a typical jungle dog, though we were never scared of him.

Our neighbours dog, tina used to come our house almost everyday, she was a lovely playful dog and we were really fond of her. When neighbour got shifted some other place, while going, they asked whether we could keep tina for one week till they get settled in their new house. We happily agreed. First day was fine. But next day she stopped eating altogether. Finally our neighbours' son came to take her. It was only after seeing him that she ate something.

Once a small cute puppy came to our house. The only reason my mom allowed it was it had an understanding of 'calls of nature' and never we had to clean up. One day it vanished, god knows where. We searched a lot, but in vain.

Only once i was bitten by a dog, a pet dog, not ours. He was a very calm animal , but one fine day, he went mad, and attacked me. He bit me 4-5 places and gave lots of cuts. 3 injections. I remember two people holding my hands legs and a nurse putting a needle in my stomach. That was so horrible. The rule is you have to take 3 injections and keep watch on the dog, for one month. If nothing happens to the dog, no worry. If something happens to him, take 11 injections more!. Fortunately the dirty dog ran away only after 2 months.

Now a days i hardly see any cats here. Sometimes when when i come across, still i feel the same connection. Cats, dogs, they live a very natural life. They dont complicate life like we do. They live by their own rules, and they are more close to nature than us. I have seen animals too have attitude and they understand us. They belong to a world that is without language, without words but rich with feelings and instincts.

PS: I am dedicating this post to a cute doggie, unfortunately lost somewhere in the sands of time...
You can see it by clicking here

Monday, July 10, 2006


Photo by - Endevourme

Extracted from "The Story Of My Life", autobigraphy of Helen Keller. She was blind,deaf and dumb and movie BLACK is inspired from her...

One day, while I was playing with my new doll, Miss Sullivan put my big rag doll into my lap also, spelled "d-o-l-l" and tried to make me understand that "d-o-l-l" applied to both. Earlier in the day we had had a tussle over the words "m-u-g" and "w-a-t-e-r." Miss Sullivan had tried to impress it upon me that "m-u-g" is mug and that "w-a-t-e-r" is water, but I persisted in confounding the two. In despair she had dropped the subject for the time, only to renew it at the first opportunity. I became impatient at her repeated attempts and, seizing the new doll, I dashed it upon the floor. I was keenly delighted when I felt the fragments of the broken doll at my feet.Neither sorrow nor regret followed my passionate outburst. I had not loved the doll. In the still,dark world in which I lived there was no strong sentiment or tenderness. I felt my teacher sweep the fragments to one side of the hearth, and I had a sense of satisfaction that the cause of my discomfort was removed.
She brought me my hat, and I knew I was going out into the warm sunshine. This thought, if a wordless sensation may be called a thought, made me hop and skip with pleasure.We walked down the path to the well-house, attracted by the fragrance of the honeysuckle with which it was covered. Some one was drawing water and my teacher placed my hand under the spout. As the cool stream gushed over one hand she spelled into the other the word water, first slowly, then rapidly. I stood still, my whole attention fixed upon the motions of her fingers.Suddenly I felt a misty consciousness as of something forgotten--a thrill of returning thought; and somehow the mystery of language was revealed to me. I knew then that "w-a-t-e-r" meant the wonderful cool something that was flowing over my hand. That living word awakened my soul,gave it light, hope, joy, set it free! There were barriers still, it is true, but barriers that could intime be swept away.
I left the well-house eager to learn. Everything had a name, and each name gave birth to a new thought. As we returned to the house every object which I touched seemed to quiver with life. That was because I saw everything with the strange, new sight that had come to me. On entering the door I remembered the doll I had broken. I felt my way to the hearth and picked up the pieces.I tried vainly to put them together. Then my eyes filled with tears; for I realized what I had done,and for the first time I felt repentance and sorrow.

Friday, July 07, 2006

Drops of water...

Photo by - Endevourme

He took out the lollipop somebody had given him.
"Keep it away, You stupid ! How many times I have told you not to eat in rickshaw?, why dont you understand?", somebody shouted. Frightened... not understanding what happened... he kept the lollipop back into his pocket.This was not the first time, he thought when somebody close has scolded him.

After having food at night, he rolled out. Slowly walking along he reached the vegetable market. It was late and by this time all shops were closed. A stale rotten smell of vegetables was coming from the open gutters. He sat down. He took out the lollipop and stared at it. It was precious for him. Very few times i get a lollipop, he thought.
Big, red, sweet, wrapped in a transparent paper. Looking at it, remembering those words, a feeling of hate and bitterness came to his mind. He unfolded the wrapper. It smells so sweet ....its it is not for me.

Slowly he lowered the lollipop, moving it towards the open gutter.
Slowly...very slowly...he put that lollipop into that it slowly entered the mud, he could feel his heart slowly tearing to pieces...
am i dying ? ....he thought. He could feel warm water accumulating in his eyes. It formed a small drop of tear, and rolled out...slowly following contours of his cheek, it reached his chin...and fell...into the rubble below...

Years passed...tears kept falling...
Some day...again hurt by someone close, he was broken...sitting in the bathroom, he was sobbing.The tap was on, so that nobody should hear him. While crying alone there, he remembered what had happened years back.
And....a sudden realization struck him. I am unbreakable... 'cause I still feel the pain so intensely as I used to feel years back.
I didnt die really.... Even after all this, I didnt break....
A smile came to his face. He took a deep breath, wiped off the tears and got up to wash his face...

Monday, July 03, 2006

fleurs de lis...

Photo by - Endevourme
She was born somewhere around 1890. Got married at the age of 12, gave birth to a son. Her husband died when she was just 16, and remaining 90 years her life she spent as a widow.
And yet, she was the happiest and the most satisfied person i have ever seen.
She was ... my great-grandmother...

The immediate picture of her which comes to my mind is sitting by a window, staring at the slow drag of people passing by in the market below. Everyone of us used to call her 'aai', means mother.

She was an authority, keeping a huge combined family together. She had eyes full of kindness and used to take good care of us, kids. Sometimes she used to scold us, but we knew that it was temporary. I still remember getting 50 paisa from her for icecream-wala in the market. Because of her, our house was very particular about guests and it was understood that no guest should leave without taking food.

After her husband's death, she had to struggle for herself and her son. She started and succesfully run a small hotel, in pre independence times when it was very difficult for a woman to even work outside.
I remember the night she died. That day there was no electricity.
The house was dark, a candle was burning quietly in the corner. I was sad, but i didnt feel like crying.
There were no regrets, nothing left to be done.
She had always lived with dignity, and never wanted a life which is dependent on others.
There is one point for everything when we should quit gracefully, even
She lived a life around 105, owing to the fact that she was mentally very strong and highly balanced. Inspite of the tragedies and struggle she had to go through, she was the most satisfied and complete human being i have ever seen in my life.

My tribute to the sacred feminine....