In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Lazy Learners.”
I think I may have looked like this guy a couple of times while walking down the streets, metal banging deep into my ear drums – crazy enough that I would just not jump in the air to relieve the rush. It must have started in my toddler years when I started counting beats and moving my wrists and ankles to every beat.
I have no clue when this crazy habit turned into a long held and suppressed passion. Yes, I’m talking about drumming. Yearnings often have a strange way to fill voids around you. They just simply pop up when you are least prepared for them. You’d have no money, no resources, no motivation to start a new chapter. But this is how and when life throws you tests to check if you’re still that kid who’d give anything to hit a six on the first ball of every over, to take a wicket with the first ball that you bowl – to test your zeal.
It came and went by, multiple times – the opportunity to start drumming. I’d have no money or the studio would be far or I’ll simply be lazy enough to not let even an earthquake move me from my bed and each time it felt like I missed a train and with it, the journey to all good and adventurous things. And when I think about it now, all the while I was simply avoiding the journey to start finding myself and my truer purpose.
I have this crazy habit of killing myself and my ambitions before building new ones. It starts with a simple and an insignificant compromise made in the name of benevolence wherein I’ll give my chocolate away or skip a pizza to provide for a cab ride for my wife. You know it’s these kind of things that birth a lackadaisical attitude. I have a tendency to wait for opportune moments to arrive when I’ll best savor the pleasures that I indulge in. But sadly, it has never served me well, or that’s how feel right now – left behind, cowering from the harsh realities of this world.
I’m evolving as all things do. And with it I’m learning the important factor that governs all things – TIME. And as each moment passes me by, this incredible urge to finish all that’s yet incomplete is killing all the patience I’ve accumulated in my 30 years past. It feels that I must miss no train again. And if it means losing something precious, so be it, for all good things that you do for yourself compensate for other good things that aren’t really high on longevity.
So now when I play inside the jamming room and the calf muscles start to burn, I think about all the times I have ditched this pleasure – my pleasure in order to pleasure others. Now I don’t get scared when I hold those two sticks between my fingers. I’m just starting (3 classes young) but the encouragement I get from my teacher is enough to let me return to my home with a well earned smile. This, my friends, is true happiness. Nothing surpasses it!!!
Amidst these day dreams and winding roads,
The burning asphalt trail,
Dodging this game between sun and shadows,
The fear turns my face pale.
Leaving an inaudible world behind,
I make a screeching right,
To stop and fight.
I end up tricking my anguish and life apart,
The light at the end of my tunnel was now shining bright.
The burden off my back and shoulders to start,
I see the plains and the green that await me open and wide.
Guess this is what they mean when they say,
Grass is always greener on the other side.
You have no right
To touch me
If you can’t feel my embrace in a tap.
You have no right
To hear me
If you can’t feel the care in my voice.
You have no right
To see me
If you can’t see through the dirt in me.
You have no right
To smell me
If my smell on you isn’t good enough.
You have no right
To think of me
If my thoughts for you count for nothing.
You have no right
To taste me
If my reality scares you.
You have no right
To care for me
If you aren’t with me when I need you the most.
You have no right
To share with me
If my views aren’t good enough.
You have no right
To laugh on me
If you can’t dare to have it back.
You have no right
To cry for me
If the tears in your eyes don’t wash away my sins.
You have no right
To sing with me
If the two of us aren’t good enough to build the notes of love.
You have no right
To stand by me
If I still find it hard to trust you.
You have no right
To love me
If you can’t accept me.
A few days ago I thought, what would it be like to still be a child? Clean as a slate. No problems, no rights, no wrongs, an indomitable spirit of a flying falcon, ready to pounce on every opportunity to play and do whatever he wants to – that’s a child!
I was thinking aren’t rights and wrongs mere perceptions? A child doesn’t come into the world knowing what’s right or wrong. We teach it to him. Some may say, we only teach them so they be careful. But aren’t we just suppressing an inherent nature to toy around with things? Aren’t we scaring him even before he tries? Yes, you got to hold his back but give him a fighting chance to instill the necessary courage and self-confidence to meet his goal! A child does what’s absolutely clear in his head. We simply got to teach them to trust and respect us.
They must be allowed to learn their own way. We must never fiddle with their nature for they’ve got to understand themselves early. They’ll eventually figure it out but it’s only they who have to – not the parents. Parents I know, may feel a bit bad about what I’m saying, but I have countless examples around me that are trying to just be themselves and not someone elses image of perfection. And they are the ones who are truly happy even in their failures, for they can positively and most assuredly say, they are on their paths to their own idea of glory.
Not everyone is a Mahatma Gandhi or David Beckham by birth. We must teach the children to think straight, give them knowledge that helps them achieve their dreams and I highly emphasize on “their dreams”. We should tell them the meaning of dreams and how important they are for contentment. Because without contentment, all that we achieve and earn is worthless. We can never be at peace without it.
Money is nothing but a tool towards contentment. Money is and will forever be the reason for the greatest wars and terrible atrocious crimes. He who has money is as discontented as the man without it, because he never finds out the true purpose of holding it. So he keeps running after it all his life, gaining nothing and hurting a million others. Why does he need it? Why is running after it so important? Parents have to make sure that they set an example to live modestly so children themselves never raise their bar of expectations – those expensive toys, iPods, iPads and stuff. Parents have to let the children outdoors, for indoors is where all the bad stuff is.
One person though who still has the heart of a child, is my wife. She doesn’t understand the complicated. Most people simply misunderstand her because they think she’s playing with their heads, being all intelligent and cunning and stuff but trust me, she isn’t even a decimal percentage of what we call cunning. I am cunning. I know people who can’t be trusted and they are so close to me. And yet all she cares about is, she doesn’t want to hurt anyone. She can’t seem to understand why on earth is she hated so much. My poor baby! How do I tell her, oh man!
I guess, she is the perfect example of who you must choose to be right from the start – free, warm yet chilled, and peaceful. And these traits are so easy to attain, if we grow up respecting everything that earth has to offer. People, animals, air, water, soil – respect everything and the world will respect you and that way, you’ll already have achieved 95% of what you may ever seek in your life.
And I keep thinking, why am I becoming a preacher when I can never follow it myself? Because that’s what I’ve chosen to be. To be the oppressed, a shield to someone who doesn’t know how to shield herself. I’ll take the hits while you run with your life. You just be… yourself. For that smile on your face is what keeps me going!
We have to learn from the children for we’ve forgotten the meaning of freedom and unprejudiced thinking. It is as simple as that!
What an apt day for this prompt! I was looking to vent out something that happened last night and here cometh the daily prompt!
Wifey left again to visit her parents and her in-laws (my parents) today. I’m alone for next 15 days again but we had a bedtime conversation going after a long time yesterday. Ever since she returned, she was puzzled by my new found love for writing. Actually she’s right to feel this way as nothing comes so easy to me. I procrastinate to levels not known to ordinary humans. I put things off simply because I don’t feel my toes are working perfectly (just a case in point).
We went out to dinner the night she returned, I bought her gifts and we started talking about her experience and when she paused for water, mine too! She had apparently been following my blog from where she was, had grown a bit fond of it. Not delving into how she fared during her vacation, I can tell you what she told me about the results of my break – “You’ve really chilled. You don’t look frazzled. There’s a calmness over you which is helping me wind down too!”.
Then last night, she told me about a demon that she’s been feeding for last 27 years. And I’m thinking how the hell did I miss this about her? Then again, life hasn’t been all hunky dory lately so missing a detail isn’t that big an issue for both of us! She told me how, she has always wanted to emulate a colonel friend of her grand father whom she met when she was just 3. She met him only 3-4 times but considered him as more of her grand father than her actual one (this must really hurt a soul I tell you) and all because he taught her how to carry herself and how to talk to others and things most parents miss these days (ironically her parents missed it too).
Now how does all this relate to today’s prompt? An artist, per me, is someone who elicits responses untold to many a soul themselves. He puts out something that prompts others to empty their own souls when all the while he is himself just emptying his own. Am I an artist?I’m no artist. For I’m no writer (I’m trying to be but am far far away from it), I’m no singer, I’m no player but yet I could, with my demeanor, elicit a response, a thought from my soul mate that she was prepared to hide until told otherwise. I felt proud. I had never had such a deep discussion with her, and she didn’t mind not sleeping at all last night, for she felt light!
Yes, writing is my art, not perfect yet but it’ll do till I can keep my soul mate honest and open with me. I can now see why she always pushed me to get into a different line along with my current industry. Something creative that brought out the good in me. She told me, the way I am today, I can never get someone to like me even if I wanted it the hardest. They’ll never understand me for I’ve built a fort around me and I don’t let anyone in. Trust me people – she’s made her way in already, she just doesn’t know it yet!
Let’s find out the arts of others –
- Freedom in a pen | MC’s Whispers
- YouTube Clips: Daily Prompt | ALIEN AURA’S BLOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND!
- Jamming | Knowledge Addiction
- Daily Prompt: Express Yourself! | The WordPress C(h)ronicle
- The Match (Part 5) 40 Acres | The Jittery Goat
- Singing All The Way | Knowledge Addiction
- DP Daily Prompt: Express Yourself! | Sabethville
- Write to Heal | From Hiding to Blogging
- Xi’an, the Place with Enriched Stories | From Hiding to Blogging
- Taipei – a Mesmerizing City | From Hiding to Blogging
- Broken Dreams? | Tale of Two Tomatoes
- Daily prompt – Express yourself! | myjourneyeveryday
- Daily Prompt: Express Yourself! | benjaminsolak
- Bed Talks | Views Splash!
- The Creator God and His Gift to Us | meanderedwanderings
- Express Yourself | Dragon Droppings
- Express Yourself | Lisa’s Kansa Muse
- Daily Prompt: Express Yourself-Is it Children’s Obligation to Take Care of Their Parents? | Journeyman
- I teach! | Purplesus’ Blog
- Quadruple Threat [Intimate Sessions] | She Writes
- [M.M.X.I.V. 95] The dancing feet | Never A Worry
- Daily Prompt: Express Yourself! | tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice
- Building Blocks of a Project | Photography Journal Blog
- More than an Expression…an Extension of Me | snapshotsofawanderingheart
- E Is For Expressing Yourself | My Little Avalon
- My Games… | from dusk to dawn….
- Creativity in pranks, viruses and retaliation: This week’s weird and wacky news « psychologistmimi
- Reach High | Flowers and Breezes
- Freedom In Expression | Coffee With Jesus
- Daily Prompt: Express Yourself! | seikaiha’s blah-blah-blah
- DAILY PROMPT: Express Yourself | Melissa Holden
- My dog doesn’t see the point of leg weaves |
- 8 things I have to say about debate | Never Stationary
- A Small Guest With a Box of Sweets | wisskko’s blog
- Daily Prompt: Express Yourself! | thechangingpalette
- Daily Prompt: Express Yourself! | I Just Like Doing Them | Shawn Daily
- Daily Prompt: Express Yourself | Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss
- Sunset Over India | Broken Light: A Photography Collective
- Daily Prompt Express Yourself : Joy | Angela McCauley
- Please Don’t Call Me A Writer
- Daily Prompt: Express Yourself | Words4jp’s Blog
- Therapy | In the Present
- Daily Prompt: Express Yourself | That Montreal Girl
- Daily Prompt: Express yourself | A cup of noodle soup
- Express Yourself | Kimmiecode
- Daily prompt: Express yourself! | Go, See, Live
- Express Yourself | The Land Slide Photography
- you keep me at varying | y
- No Such Thing as Self-Expression | Author Laura Lee
- Comin’ Through the Rye | Speculative Paradigm Shifts
- Ex-press-ion | I’m a Writer, Yes I Am
- Daily Prompt: Express Yourself | gracenorcott
- my purpose | peacefulblessedstar
- Persuing Perfection | The Ravenously Disappearing Woman
- Poetry that doesn’t challenge my brain | The Salmon Yatra
- One’s Creative Expression | Cats, Coffee, And Life At Random
- Creative me | Emovere
I’ve written a few things. Small and insignificant as they are and were, they mean a lot. They give this barren moaning desert of a soul a dream of a thunderstorm, a storm that’ll change the texture of the laughing rocks and fill the air with that earthly smell after the rains.
I’m 30 years old. Old enough to be a father and a manager, and I’m none of them. I see myself in the mirror and an obscure vision of a merely satisfied man appears. A man who wants his petty griefs to end so he concentrates harder on things at hand. His spirit is free but scared to fly high. He’s scared of the vultures and the eagles that hound the skies. And everyday that he wakes up, he wants to be one of them killers.
But he is soft. He loves everyone, wants to respect everyone, gives each opinion a chance to stand and get itself heard. He isn’t scary but only for his demeanor, people hate him. He comes across hard, slaps the living lights out of you to let you in on your true self – your true reflection.
I was 8 years old when I wrote an autobiography about a coin and it’s life. How it travelled from the mint to an ocean. The teacher appreciated it a lot and placed it on the table, on the day of our results for everyone else to read, as an example to emulate in the future. I remember her clapping. Right there, she sowed the itch to write in my heart. I always knew I wanted to write. But what? I never let anyone in on my dream to write until recently.
I’d never written a word and yet I was scared of the evaluation and the seething comments I might receive. I was scared to get ruthlessly dumped out of the vast ocean of writing genius, that waited for me to dip my first toe in it. The pain of it thwarted my heart and I was yet to write a single word.
I’m not extraordinary. I’m simple with nothing more than a few words to offer. I’m clearly short on vocabulary and the grammar ain’t great either.
In 2012 though, I made my move. I had to get a lot of thoughts out of my system. They were clouding my heart and jolting my brain. I opened my account with WordPress after months of washing my face with tears and after further thinking, I decided upon Views Splash, as my pen name. It goes both ways – in soliciting and in providing the views. The name stands just right for me and my readers have done it full justice.
I wasn’t great at first and for a year and 2 months, I never wrote seriously, never made a move to improve, and never wrote enough. It was more thoughtless entertainment. It never satiated me. But inside I always knew, I wanted to do more. A persisting fight with my present wasn’t helping either. I was scared to let my thoughts out for everyone else will know. I’ll become an open book but deep down – I was still digging the grave that I’d been digging for past 30 years.
People have helped me immensely in nearly every matter of my life but not this. They’d built importance and they knew they were a part of every tide I’d faced – whether low or high. Yet they never dared touch my writing, for they’d burn their hands. It was fire they’d play with. Fire of the thoughts that will now flow like magma – uncaring, unrelenting till it cools and settles down by itself providing a more fertile land over time. Land that’ll flourish again with positive thoughts, smiles, and love.
My writing is my reflection and I love how it looks!
Lets see what others have written about this post –
- Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections | The WordPress C(h)ronicle
- Writing Challenge: Why Do I Write? | Miss Diaries
- Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections | Awl and Scribe
- This is Why I Write | Musings | WANGSGARD
- Writerly Life | melissuhhsmiles
- Writerly Reflections | emilycharlotteould
- Keep On Writing, Everyone | Never Stationary
- Weekly Photo Challenge: Reflection | Blessings through raindrops…
- Never at a Loss for Words | The Ravenously Disappearing Woman
- Why I Write | Fish Of Gold
- Negativity Insults My Intelligence | Bumblepuppies
- Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections | samallen230
- The Beginning | snapshotsofawanderingheart
- A Challenge Followed by a Challenge | Kami’s Beautiful Morning
- Origin Story: Why I Write | Lead us from the Unreal to the Real
- Why I Write | Lead us from the Unreal to the Real
- Dreaming About My Dream Job | Musings | WANGSGARD
- Where it All Began | Passionate Dreaming
- My Lifeline | Artfully Aspiring
- Ichabod Crane in a 1960s straight legged suite | The Seminary of Praying Mantis
- Instant Writer: Just Add Library | Charron’s Chatter
- (DP Challenge) Life’s Pit Stops: Journal of Becoming a Writer | Jenkins Writings
- dear sir or madame would you read my book? | eastelmhurst.a.go.go
- Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections | siobhanmcnamara
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections | imagination
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections | Reflections and Nightmares- Irene A Waters (writer and memoirist)
- Stuck In A Blogging Rut | Eclecticfemale’s Blog
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections | Morrighan’s Muse
- Writing Challenge — Writerly Refections |
- Reflection on reading | Lisa’s Kansa Muse
- DP challenge: Writerly Reflections. | A cup of noodle soup
- My Origin Story | Simply Miko
- Reponse to- Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections | really, villie?
- “We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master.” —Ernest Hemingway | Chronicles of Illusions
- How The Snot People Paved The Way For My Life As a Writer | momaste
- Writing Growing Up | Among the Whispers
- Writing Challenge: How I became a writer | writingtutortips
- Feet in my Shoes, Mary I Am | Mary J Melange
- Why write? | fifty5words
- Write What You Know | 365 Days of Thank You
- My Supergeek Superpower | Abstractions of Life
- A Moose and Three Giraffes | Master of Something I’m Yet To Discover
- writing is the pits | Musings of a Random Mind
- Writerly Reflections | Icezine
- writing challenge: reflections | Phylor’s Blog
- Falling in Love | Jody Lynne
- The Librarian, the Library and the Words | jen groeber: mama art
- Why Writers Write | jsleflore
- Writerly Reflections | Alexia Jones
- Why I Write… | Day to Embrace Change
- Writing Sneaks Up, Won’t Go Away | abundance in the boondocks
- Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections | nagwak25
- Origins | the little things in life
- Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections | xin’s blog
- WRITING CHALLENGE: WRITERLY REFLECTIONS | All I Need Is Pink!
- It’s all about the story | Not famous for anything
- Bedtime Stories: The Cat Who Wore a Pot On Her Head.” | Destino
- Writerly Reflection | Thinking Languages!
- writing off the wall | litadoolan
- Writerly Reflections: Discovering Poetry | Indigoat Footnote
- My Journey As A Writer | The Flibberatic Skreebles
- A tale of origins and embarrassing family secrets! | Melissa Barker-Simpson
- The day Agatha became my friend | Hope* the happy hugger
- Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections | Rose Red Stories
- Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections, rather my first try for this, how I started writing or what made me start in the first place | seikaiha’s blah-blah-blah
- I am and I am not | Attempted Human Relations and Self
- How Did I Get Here? | the intrinsickness
- Throw Back The Pen | Ako Si Ehm Blog
- Writerly Reflections | A Life with Limits
- “The miseducation of Nicholas Christian: Origin Story” | The Bohemian Rock Star’s “Untitled Project”
- A Reader’s Developement | Musings of a Soul Eclectic
- Adam Ickes | Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections
- A come-back post with Writerly Reflections | TALES OF MY JOURNEYS ACROSS OCEANS
- Putting Words on Paper in a Particular Order | Fun with Depression
- The Writer With Crayons and Oil Pastels | Irish Noble King
- Love of Writing | My Adventures In Marriage
- Am I a Writer? | Wine goes best with a good book
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Writerly Reflections | SIM | ANTICS
- Writing, creating, breathing… | Scent of Rina
- Gunga Din and me | The Sapient Chronicles
- My 8th Grade Work Is Better Than Any Professional Work I’ve Read | Sammi Talk
- My need to write? I blame my mother. | christineespeer
- Writing Challenge: I Write Because I was Born into a World of Words | theempathyqueen
- A Puzzle, Piece By Piece | Polymathically
- Writing Process Blog Tour: Little Victories | Be Less Amazing
- Barsoom | luvsiesous
- A writer of tales | Thin spiral notebook
- It all started with a fish! | 1,000 Photos of my Life
- My Sister and The Famous Five – Evelyne Holingue
- Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth….Chances | Searching for Substance
- Urban Bookworm, Secret Wordsmith | Laughing Through Life
- Writing Challenge: Reflections | The Day After
- How I Got My Superpowers | The Adventures of Cat Madigan
- DPChallenge: What got me started | xzxJennaxzx
- Writerly Reflections | Bako Heat
- When the Verbal and Visual Unite, an Expat Writer is Reborn | reinventing the event horizon
- I write because I MUST: Weekly Writing Challenge | ALIEN AURA’S BLOG: IT’LL BLOW YOUR MIND!
- Why I Write | Huckleberry Moments
- Resurrection | In So Many Words
- It’s Kind of a Long Story | Corned Beef Hashtag
Silence eh! It has made its presence felt in my life in many very different ways. Let me take you through some of them and why it is so special to me.
When I was growing up, when my parents took all the decisions in my life, I remember my brother and I once getting enrolled for a christian camp in St. Theresa School. I was in 8th standard, too young to understand what was going on inside and outside my head. We had no friends there and we were all we had. If I remember correctly it was a 3 days camp. I don’t remember the routine too. I just remember few moments very clearly in my head. We were all sleeping by our ages in different classes and I happened to wake up very early on the first morning. Now I’m not talking about a city with a lot of hustle and bustle but a very coy town of Bhopal in 1997. It was so quiet, so so quiet that I could feel my heart beating. I looked outside the window into the deep green forest behind the school and went outside to the balcony and nothing but leaves had gathered enough energy to move. It was the start of the winter for us and temperature was starting to dip. That silence and I saw my brother sleep. I felt love, lots of it. He needed me so much. I still feel that depth inside. I’ve been ever since trying to emulate that feeling but have failed, although I have come close to it. But that was one morning I’ll never forget. There was another in an evening right at the twilight. As I stood in the balcony and looked left from above the market into the horizon, a strange calmness prevailed inside me. I still remember the other boys making a total ruckus inside the classroom behind my back but it couldn’t bother me then. I was lost. I was new.
I was lost when I was travelling alone for the first time to my college in a train. I still remember the Walkman and a few of the songs and their albums. I have travelled so much during and after my engineering years that I’ve lost track of the exact time and the song but yes I definitely remember if it was raining during some of them. Since, it wasn’t exactly the digital age that we revel in now, I had to carry a lot of cassettes in my bag pack and some of those albums were trance. If anyone remembers it, there was a series of trance collection remixed and redone by Sony Music that went by the name – A Trip Of Trance. They came out in volumes 1 to 6 till I followed and I lost count of them after that. In volume 2, was a song Toca’s Miracle by Fragma. It’s still fresh in my head like it happened yesterday. The rain seeping from under the train window and how I just absolutely had to open the window, drench my face in the rain water so I could let some of my tears out and not look unstable to my fellow passengers. I really needed a miracle to pull myself through it all. I was very alone and I couldn’t show it to anyone. I couldn’t look weak. I was anxious.
I remember the hushed silence beneath that tree-lane when my dad and I went to meet his friend in the CSEB colony in Bhilai for we had to look for a room for me to live in. It was a new place, a new phase of life and somehow I felt my weakness pouring out through my sweat and tears. While he sat in the office with his friend, I felt so alone I had to get out and walk. I still had my walkman and the album this time was Significant Other by Limp Bizkit. The song playing was Don’t Go Off Wandering. I was wandering, wandering in that heat on a lonely road, 200 meters back and forth when my dad fetched me. I still remember looking out through the window on the day dad was supposed to leave while I was in college. He looked at me and all I could do was hug him and plead to not go for another day and well I cried too. I dreaded loneliness.
I’ve also tried to manufacture silence. Satyam Computers were in for campus recruitments. By the time, the interviewers announced our results, it was already 11:30 pm. The results were right as we’d expected – they selected me. There was no end to our joy. The smile got glued to my face. But the way I am, I had already started wondering about my future while me and my friend were on my bike headed home. We kept shouting and singing throughout the way for there was no end to our happiness. I was trying to create silence in my head. I was trying to kill all my thoughts with the shouts and abominable singing. I somehow had a feeling that this wasn’t going to last long. I was confused.
Songs have forever been my way of creating silence. I either sing or listen to them but that’s the only time I feel silence. As I write this post, I’m listening to Game Master by Paul Oakenfold. Another song that I’d patronized for the start of every exam. It just gave me the strength and enough violence in my head to do something unthinkable, write something better to someone elses satisfaction. Not many people exist in this world who don’t know my love for songs but what they don’t know is how songs influence me and my head. It’s my cure. It fills me. It calms me. It silences me.
Then came my wife and a new way I felt silence. We’d been having a rather tumultuous time with some situations in our life when we went on a trip to Goa sponsored totally by my brother. Only the two of us can tell, how much we needed that trip, her more so. It was our second day there when we went to Vagator beach. We knew there was something really special about that beach just by the road that led us to it. No rush, no traffic, trees all around and we could smell the sea and hear waves as we approached it only to get beholden by its sight. While I laid down our bags and got down to my bare essentials, she had already made her way into the sea. She kept walking and walked quite far when she sat down in the sand. I got my camera and was quite excited by the view when I saw her crying. She kept crying and I knew what it was. That silence only interrupted by the sea waves and shrieks from some far away kids was what she sought from this trip. Love and responsibility have never been her cup of tea but I could see now how hard she had tried all of her time with me. All negative energy seemed to abandon her and after about 5 minutes she looked at me and smiled. This was my silence. She finally had what she wanted.
Lets check out what others have got for this challenge –
- WWC: The Sound of Silence | The Crucial Kiwi
- The Sound of Silence | The Joy of Health Nutrition and Beauty
- A Silent Hunt. | The Shady Tree
- Silence Speaks Louder Than Words | Creative Mysteries
- Silence of the Cat | The Adventures of Cat Madigan
- Weekly Writing Challenge: The Sound of Silence #writing | Of Glass & Paper
- The sound of … | How to write a memo
- Behind the Facade of the Narcissist’s Silent Treatment | An Upturned Soul
- Weekly Writing Challenge: The Sound of Silence – Breaking the Barrier | humanTriumphant
- The Painting On The Wall | Midnight Butterfly
- Weekly Writing Challenge: Silent Screams | NOWHERE TO RUN
- Weekly Writing Challenge: The Sound of Silence | MARGARET ROSE STRINGER
- The Sound of Silence | 101 Challenges in 1001 Days
- Weekly Writing Challenge: The Sound of Silence | To Breathe is to Write
- Weekly Writing Challenge: The Sound of Silence | Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss
- Hush me again, I can’t stand it. | May van Reenen
- it’s haircut day | Musings of a Random Mind
- My Quest for the Sound of Silence | Schizo Incognito
- No Curse | scottishmomus
- Weekly Writing Challenge: The Sound of Silence | The Wandering Poet
- Weekly Writing Challenge: The Sound of Silence | tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice
- Weekly Writing Challenge : The sound of silence | Loin de zanzibar
- Silence between us | Scent of Rina
- The Mountain and the Apology | Keep It Real Sister
- Children Say It Like It Is | Not the Family Business!
- Excruciating Silence | Life Sans God
- A Vow of Silence? | living my life
- Silence is the greatest enabler of abuse. | My thoughts on a page.
- The Sound of Silence | Cafe Reading
- Weekly Writing Challenge – Silence | Niki’s Thoughts
- I Answer My Mom | angieinspired
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- Silence And It’s Lessons | the TEMENOS JOURNAL
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- The Sound of Silence: Twelve Hours Without Media | suzie81’s Blog
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- DP Challenge Rachel Carlson – Author of ‘Silent Spring’ | Midwestern Plants
- Weekly Writing Challenge: The Sound of Silence (Tell Me If You Ever Hear A Sound) | THE BLACK SPAGHETTI CHRONICLES
- Weekly Writing Challenge: The Sound of Silence (I hate total silence, some one should break the ice.) | THE BLACK SPAGHETTI CHRONICLES
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- From the Once Loud House – Evelyne Holingue
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This is a new to me IMAGE format as a part of Zee2Etch Challenge – Task #19.
Maya had spoken but cops waited for a better contestable version. Her words weren’t enough for them to form a convincing story and so they waited while the doctors ascertained that Maya wasn’t raped. With her body reduced to a pulp, doctors had a hard time finding internal wounds and only machines using x-rays and ultrasounds could make any progress.
Amit meanwhile could only wait outside the door. The sparkling radiance on her face and the persistent saintly smile were awe-striking. He wondered why could she not just stand up and walk home. She still looked fresh except for the wounds on her swollen lips and a right blue eye. As tired as he was, he kept recalling the vision of Maya leaving the house that morning with him with his eyes closed abreast the broken turnstile. And once in a while he’d hear a crackling laugh, those innocent eyes, those soft hands, the feather-light touches and how she would always look so sexy.
A dream sequence that crashed with a tap on his right shoulder. He turned around to find Kumar, S.H.O. of Police of the area with a diary and a cellphone. “This ain’t gonna be good” – he snuffed.
“Is Maya your wife?” – Kumar asked. Amit nodded his confirmation.
“When did you last see her before hospital?” – Kumar kept noting the conversation occasionally looking up.
“What has that got to do with this situation?” – Amit bumped his volume.
“Doctors here are quite sure that this isn’t a rape case. If it’s molestation, even you are a suspect. Now answer my questions clearly.” – Kumar blew on Amits amped voice.
“We left home together and I dropped her at her office.” – Amit controlled himself.
“Was there any fight? Hows your married life?” – Kumar continued jotting his observations furiously.
“We’re very happy. No fights!” – Amit asserted.
“Do you have kids? – Kumar continued.
“Yes – two boys – Rahul and Sunny.” – Amit continued.
“Did you notice anything odd with her behavior recently?” – Kumar was unnerved.
“Like?” – Amit was curious now.
“Her sleeping pattern, her phone calls, her behavior with the children?” – Kumar was getting into the zone.
“Nothing. She is a lovely wife and an excellent mother.” – Amit wanted to get over with this fast. He wasn’t liking the line of questions.
“Do you have her phone? I would like to see her text messages and see whom had she been calling.” – Kumar got the police work going.
“I have it but why are you doubting her so much? She is the victim here!” – Amit wasn’t gonna let Kumar put Mayas reputation at stake.
“I am searching for a motive and the molesters.” – Kumar was now maintaining eye contact.
“What if I say that this was random and I don’t want this inquiry?” – Amit was stern.
“Nothing is random. There has to be a motive. Regarding the inquiry, it’s not for you to decide. An FIR has to be lodged and she will need to be transferred to a bigger hospital where tests will be done.” – Kumar calmly explained the ways.
Amit was having none of it though – “She hasn’t been raped and I don’t want to press any charges for molestation. I know it was random and you will find no motive.”
“Tell me something. Are you or aren’t you involved in this? You definitely sound like you are.” – Kumar got his flair talking.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? I LOVE MY WIFE!” – Water had just risen past Amits head.
“Then why do you want to abandon this inquiry? We assure you that you or your familys reputation will suffer no harm. No names are used but we want to bring the culprits to justice and I think so should you! During the procedure, you may have to only pop into the police station twice or thrice and I assure you, you won’t be bothered.” – Kumar was perplexed.
“She wants to lead a peaceful life and we don’t want any disturbance. This is very disturbing already and only God knows what she has been through tonight. The cops in the hospital have already started prepping stories about her. If you want to control something, control their tongues. Whatever has happened tonight, she’ll want to forget it as soon as possible and you and your inquiry won’t let her forget it. I will not see my wife disturbed ever again and I take full responsibility for my decisions. My decision is – I don’t want an inquiry and so doesn’t she, so leave us alone.” – Amit had taken his stand and withered away from the conversation wanting an end to it.
Kumar understood this and said – “I’ll still need Mayas statement to make a report and am outside in my car. Let me know if you want to tell me something. And please give me her cellphone so I can get an unofficial inquiry done while I’m here.”
Amit didn’t realize the only mistake he was about to make and handed him the phone. Kumar trudged off.
Talking to Kumar had planted some doubts in Amits mind particularly about Kumar and his intentions but he’ll wait for Maya to narrate the story. He knew he couldn’t take chances. He was again looking into the room where Maya was housed. All he wanted was to somehow hug her tight and let her know he’ll be there for her forever and nothing could change his love for her.
He looked outside the window where Kumar was working furiously on Mayas phone with his right hand and was talking on his own with his left. He wondered what was Kumar up to. And where the hell is Gaurav?
Task #4 for the Zero to Hero challenge is to explore 5 blogs that would attract my imagination today.
I’ve had a tiring day, took a lot of shit and yet came out unscathed – I feel proud that in amidst all that, I could actually post a nice little observation of my office today. The thought about online shopping bugged me so much that I just got it all out in an hour. I guess, pretty well done considering how much time I took to post some of my other posts!
Anyways, the easiest thing about WordPress is how so many excellent bloggers exist to illuminate your path and creativity. Few of those who lit up my dying bulb today are as follows –
1. This Page Intentionally Left Blank – This guy Liam has a great sense of twitchy humor! You should totally visit him.
2. A walk with my camera – I just love the style of photography featured on this site.
3. Literature & Libation – I’m always all in for literature and anything to read and to break it up, I’m on libation now… 😉
4. Journey Thru L – Just read the about me page on Julianes Blog. It’s enough to get you inspired!
5. Patriciaddrury – Happy, Healthy and In Love is what I wanna be!
Great Job Guys! You are on my reading list for sure! 😀
2013 – An year of the unforgettables.
As it comes to an end and I try to reminisce the rights and the wrongs, the successes and failures, the joys and sorrows, the heartaches and some not, the pains and pleasures – I stand ready to be emptied and filled again, like clay ready to mold, like water waiting to be filled in a jar.
Its been that kind of year. I am so depressingly filled with negative feelings that I wish I can be recreated, from scratch – born again to live free and then die again with no regrets. They are bursting to come out. Right people need to know but how will it reflect upon me? Will I stand vindicated? My experience says – No.
So, forget? I Can’t. Tried that too many times and lost.
So, do what? Quit. I should seek my own space. But that once I’m done reminiscing this year.
The biggest event of this year for me was my siblings wedding, bringing a new member to our family, with cheers all around. He is all grown up now. Handles himself and his wife very astutely. Mom and Dad are mighty proud of him and so am I.
That being said, that has been the only happy event of the year. Rest has been intensely gloomy. The suffering that fate has unleashed upon my home has admonished us to think beyond the realm of possibility. We are broken from inside. She – more so. And yet my love for life stands so much more invigorated again, only the trigger remains unclear. I could start with a thousand things, but then there could be none too.
I turned 30 this year and life has become a parody of suffering, learning, rising, fighting and living. Lemme call this song “My Life”.
I don’t have a long time to live and I don’t wish to live long. I just want to have bombs of happiness dropped on me every 4 months or so to erase the pain inside or at least partly subside it.
Sachin “The God” Tendulkar retired – the second saddest event of the year. His farewell speech will always stay with me in my heart and the hearts of his billion other followers and so will his legacy. No cricketer can and will ever touch his greatness, his humility and passion for his game.
India finally now has had its hands on all the 3 ICC (International Cricket Council) Trophies – The Champions Trophy, The ICC World Cup and The ICC T20 World Cup – the only team to have done so till date. We are proud of you boys – keep going!
The people of Delhi finally came into their own this year with Aam Aadmi Party doing what no other party could do in the last 15 years of corruption – dislodge Congress. Too many scams, rising prices, rapes, molestations have finally forced people to look into a direction that aims to guide Delhi towards mending what has broken completely – trust on government. Lets hope things change quickly and for good and Delhi at least becomes a safe haven for women.
Emergence of Narendra Modi as the colossal giant is the single greatest challenge Congress will face with its reputation also taking a severe dent after the loss in the state elections this year.
I’m neutral but I want change. The Center requires someone who delivers on his promises without hurting peoples pockets. Prices are out of control. Living has become expensive and the way prices of the some of the most basic amenities spirals out of control is intolerable. Potatoes, tomatoes, onions, sugar. Rice, wheat get expensive with not enough storage to shelter the produce. Petrol price seems to have stabilized but I hope other energy products become cheap and available for public. I’m least happy with the situation for women in the nations capital. Nothing is being done to shelter the harmed and stop the harm itself.
Uttarakhand and Muzaffarnagar were two major incidents of the year that have led to massive life and property damages. Clearly no one can be blamed for the former, for it was the natures retaliation to damage that we inflict upon it. But the other, clashes between castes and the other sects of Indian society, should have been averted. Taking advantage of peoples sentiments towards their religion is the worst thing we can do and we do it without any qualms. In this particular case, people are still dying without even a clear reason for the clashes. Stop it!
Lets make this new year to change our mindset for the better. Lets be happy, love each other, live our lives to the full and learn to take responsibility for your actions. We are the people who drive this nation. Keep it clean. Recycle. Try and curb pollution. Lets make this nation even more beautiful.
OK! I need another help from my dear readers/writers/bloggers. While asleep, someone dropped a comment on my door that read like this –
“I am just reading through some things but I have to say, if you really want to become a writer – Grammar brother!!
Don’t rape the language.”
I can totally understand someone must really love me to leave this dear comment but I would like to please know what has gone wrong with my writing, if it really has gone wrong. I have never shied away from comments and I want to do anything and everything to improve my writing skills. But I can only grow into writing good and grammatically correct content if I get true and unbiased comments from my readers and fellow bloggers. I am going to put a few of my posts on the line again for my fellow bloggers to check the content for grammar and anything else that they may think, hinders their reading –
I already know a weakness in my writing that I use a lot of passive voice when active can be used. It’s a bad habit which reflects poorly on my focus. I’m already working on it but please let me know about other weaknesses in my writing.
The scenes were frantic at the hospital. Some scared doctors and nurses kept running around, knowing full well the patient was still deep in danger of running aground. Some pale faces had seen her condition and couldn’t believe the body lying in front of them could still breathe.
Nothing, not even the experienced doctors, said that she would survive. The red and blue marks on her still glistening skin told a very sad story. But Amit knew in his heart knew that she was going to wake up any moment now. He found it hard to fathom what would have went down with Maya but that could be dealt with, later. He didn’t want to leave her alone but still went out to find a silent corner to shed a tear or two. He knew he had to be strong and emotions, if retained will weaken him. He had to shed them, just the way he had done his whole life.
Not to be. The police in Bollywood movies always has a habit of ‘making an entrance’ at the most awkward moments and here they were, in real life, standing right across the reception seeking Maya. Amit rushed in, and carefully pressed his palms on her cheeks, a part which was left unhurt. Her fingers fluttered momentarily, he held her hands still looking deep into her face for any reaction from her eyes. A minute went by before she finally gave her tired and hurting eyes a twitch. She opened them and a smile sparked across her lips.
A cop and a doctor entered the room and the cop in a very daunting voice asked – “Is she Maya?”. Amit nodded in affirmation. He came close to Amit and gave her face a fleeting glance before turning his attention towards the doctor. Amit joined the conversation. He wanted to make sure, no assumptions were made about his wife. He was sure, these were the cases where a females personal characteristics were often questioned and objected on. Her choices, her lifestyle, her relationship with her partner, her household demeanour may be questioned and he didn’t want Maya to be subjected to any such disturbing questionnaire.
It was his turn to take the matters into his own hands and he will stay very strict even if the President of India was to stand in front of him. He will be a stone and nothing else, with his sympathy and empathy only towards his wife and no one else. He still had to hear what Maya had to say but whatever she would say, will remain absolute.
Cop approached her and asked softly, leaning close to her ears and Amit watching ever more closely – “Ma’am, can you tell me what happened?”. Maya, as furious and hurtful as she would feel, mumbled unclearly in spit of words – “metro… station… 5… men… beat me… van… hospital” and then tears rolled from her eyes.
Amit could make out what she wanted to say but as her throat was hurting from the pulls and shoves at the hands of the beasts, she was unable to clear her and he now knew, she wanted to cry. She was hating the sight of a cop in front of her as she found it embarrassing to bare her misery in front of him. Amit took the lead, crossed the cop and leaned against Maya and said – “Baby, just relax… whatever happens from now on… is your wish…”. She nodded affirmatively and exhaustion pushed her to her next half an hour of sleep.
She woke up again to see not just one but a herd of cops in front of her. In that while, doctors had finally done their work and ascertained that she will survive and no internal injuries could be noted so far. The cops and the doctors though, were still unclear whether to touch her or not.
Right then, a senior cop arrived and asked for Amit. Amit immediately went to him and asked what was it he wanted. The cop asked politely – “We would like to have an inquiry set up for this case and I need certain details from you. Have you talked to your wife yet?” No. “Has she yet indicated what may have happened to her?” He told him what she had said in front of the smaller cop and smaller cop had then nodded in affirmation. He then asked the doctor – “Is she in any danger of losing her life?” The doctor replied with a “No”.
All this while Amit was getting a clear signal in his head, the cop didn’t want to do much. They were apprehensive after what had happened from an earlier incident, a very negative image of them would pop up in the brains of the people – something they didn’t want at all costs.
Maya was the pie among the sister-younger brother duo. Nothing could take the pride off from her parents’ eyes for she had turned into a brilliant and free minded child. She was creative, intelligent and foremost independent. They knew she will one day make them proud and they allowed her all the freedom to flower into a fine lady. And Oh! How she did so!!
A boring and clueless engineering course paved way to her dream – Entrepreneurship. Her own business was her idea of making a mark on the world and she surely would leave no stone unturned to leave a few on her path to success. She was right most of the time and this turned her into a cruelly stubborn boss. People who worked for her, had to bear with her attitude, a possession she was very proud of. Her penchant to look far into the future and her sharp business acumen often left her counterparts and business partners mesmerized and bewildered. Her clientele grew steadily and a few years later, she was the envy of the town. She had achieved so much in just 3 years and was yet to turn 23 with a long way to go.
With success and glory illuminating her path, her parents decided to hook her up. She never had time to date men. Good men were hard to find and the closest, a dirty male soul had ever gotten to her was right in the circumference of her slap which was delivered promptly. Ads on the internet garnered a fair a response and after resisting a lot of offers, she finally gave in to her parents and decided to meet Amit.
The world Amit was raised in, gave him a lot less freedom to communicate openly. His parents were strict, expected a lot from him and after a while of sustained pressure, he crumbled in his final year of engineering. For it took an entire year for him to get through the last semester, was his greatest guilt. He had not only let his family down but himself too. He was a bright child but had experienced his childhood a lot differently than his younger and by his own admittance, an even brighter brother. The results never showed his true potential and he didn’t know what career path to take, so he gladly obliged by following what his parents wanted.
A lot of fight and struggle turned him into a toughened young man and he understood the world better. He was practical and appreciated the use of attitude, power and free will. This was where Maya was his right match.
Across the table they sat talking business, future and career. They instantly hit it off and understood they were made for each other. Their eyes never left the others and they dived right into the heart of the matter – life. How they perceived it and had seen it, they were open and crystal clear about their feelings. After 5 hours of wine and food, they knew only 1 thing about each other – Gratification and acceptance of truth were mutual – qualities both cherished. Amit had fallen head over heels for her beauty and with everything else included, he knew she was the first right thing to have happened to him in his life – Thank God for internet – he had mused with a smile.
Dating, engagement and marriage were swift, productive and affectionate. They moved to New Delhi and while they were both aware of the dangers of living in NCR, progress wasn’t negotiable.
4 years into the marriage and things had changed dramatically. While Amit blossomed in his career, marriage turned to be a kryptonite for Mayas career. 3 flop deals and 2 failed pregnancies later, Maya was seeing the ebb of her career. She was disturbed for she hadn’t contributed to her household the way she had always wanted to and for a while too. Amit had forever been there for her but for him – Someone’s got to earn and feed first – and the distance had grown. So she decided to get a job. While it wasn’t as high paying as her business, she could still hold her head high at home and it was satisfying for now while she gathered her resources to get her business started again.
A year and a half into her job, she had turned into a vital cog for her department. Nothing went in or out without her consent and her boss never had to worry about any reports ever again. It was one of these reports that would get her late from her work again. But this night had taken it’s turn for the worst.
Hi Everyone out there! I have a very kind request to make. Please don’t ignore it. I am literally on my knees as I type this. Let me introduce to you again, 2 parts of a story I have authored –
1. Save Me – I
2. Save Me – II
Kindly please, please review them from every angle possible. I would love to hear your comments and reviews and of course, for those who would like to give their opinion in private, you may also email me at firstname.lastname@example.org
I am desperate for reviews. It would be really hard for me to go ahead with my work on the later parts of the story if I’m not told where I’m wrong. I know I’m wrong but I’m not so good to know where I am. Please take out a minute or a few and oblige.
Thanks a million tons! 😀
There she lay abreast the automatic sliding door of the hospital where she mumbled – SAVE ME!! She had dragged herself to there, was visibly out of breath and was quite sure, she felt no air around her.
The guard wasn’t available but the receptionist Rebecca who had quick eyes, spotted a body at the front door. She ran and cried out for someone to help her pick the body up. Satisfied that the injured was still breathing, they quickly moved the patient into a secluded ward where she underwent her inspection for external injuries. While calling the head doctor, the juniors started to do the needful with tears in their eyes resigned to her oncoming fate. She wouldn’t survive – was a tale being told by their sorry eyes. Amongst the frantic screaming and calling, she broke the silence – “Please call my husband” – and fainted again. A phone fell out of her hand and the staff quickly found the number of her husband who was immediately called.
The husband who had run scared, around the city all night, petrified by what may have happened, picked up the call –
“Hi, I’m Rebecca calling from Sanct Hospital at Samp and we have a woman who has saved your number as her husband. Could you please arrive here as soon as possible? She’s badly hurt.” Click!
A car screeched on the front drive way 10 minutes later and out jumped 2 men and ran towards the emergency ward. They knew the hospital well and didn’t seem to care for directions. Gaurav and Amit weren’t phased by the security guard who had chased them since they had broken one of the barriers down at the main gate.
Amit entered the ward, found her unconscious, went close to her and with his fluttering hands, he touched her forehead. She didn’t move. He bent down to get closer, touched her hands unrepelled by the stink, all he felt was a sorry saga on her injured body. He immediately understood what may have went down.
How could he wake her up? Her sleep now was killing him. He started rubbing her cold hands too frightened to try anything else. He could see everything around but could feel only her. He knew she will wake up but how? He dug his right hand behind her neck, picked her up carefully and kissed her nape. He felt a pressure on his other palm. He slowly picked his head and saw her eyes fluttering desperate for a vision. He moved in front of her and she had tears of pain. He knew it all but all he could say was – “Baby, it’s gonna be alright!” She fainted again. He dropped her hands and ran for the doctor who had created a commotion outside.
“I can only start the treatment when the cops have arrived. I can’t touch or analyze her till I have a written permission from the police. She may still have clues on her about what may have happened.”
Amit replied – “She will die before they arrive. Why is she not being taken care of? You want money, here have it all but start the god damn treatment.” He pulled out his wallet.
He went on to shove the doctor inside the ward with all his power with Gaurav and all other shell-shocked staff looking on. He was just way too frightened to respond to Amits call for help. When he did come to his senses, he stood as the guard outside the ward to not let any unwanted person inside. Both the men understood, the best way to handle this situation is to not let it get out of their hands.
Amit registered the patient as Maya. The cops hadn’t reached and they could still decide, depending on how Maya was doing, whether to register a complaint or not. He went in. Another hour passed and no cops had shown up. They were all starting to lose hope. Gaurav meanwhile ran for the cops.
Suddenly Maya woke up again. Amit was staring deep into her eyes. Both of them had tears rolling down their cheeks, not of pain but love. She knew she was safe now. Amit saw the unwavering strength in her eyes and got convinced of her survival. All he had to do now was to get the moron doctor on her case to start inspecting her for internal injuries. She slept again.
Amit started – “Doctor, even if the police don’t come in soon enough, you aren’t destroying any evidence. Please for Gods sake start the investigation for internal injuries”.
Doctor answered – “As much as you care about her, I do too but this is a big hospital and we have protocols to keep up and in such cases we can’t touch her before we have cops here.”
Amit was furious and shouted – “What if she dies?”
The doctor looked at Amit whose hands were trembling with fury and Gaurav who had now entered the ward to give a helping hand. Doctor picked up his cell and called his superior who told him to start the investigation remaining very careful to not let any evidence get destroyed.
Maya was then moved to ICU and even in her sleep looked assuring about her will to live.
To read the first part, please click here – SAVE ME – I
This is my first ever attempt at serious writing. I know it may not seem much and seem much less than what our seasoned bloggers may have achieved, but please try to give all your feedback. I would appreciate every comment and feedback, good or bad and try to improve in the coming parts in the series. Thank You for reading this. Cheers!
Sometimes we just need vacations. To run away from our mundane life and the same fucked up people we meet everyday to meet new ones. I needed this vacation. I was sick and tired of the sickening fucked up home and such life. After all that my wife and I bore together in the past few months, both of us desperately needed a vacation or at bare minimum, a change of location. I had tried applying for vacations twice but one got turned down and the other wasn’t even given a heed in my office. But my last attempt got cleared and 2 days and a weekend was what we had to reboot our heads.
It’d been a long time since my brothers marriage and we hadn’t seen our parents and somewhere deep within our hearts, we owed them a visit. So,we decided to rather see them and save our money than run away to some hill station and spend all that we had saved.
It turned out to be a fantastic decision at the end.
The first day was normal stay at home and we just slept through it. A simple foray into a market and we got my mother her most favorite Pineapple cake. Soft and sumptuous as it was, we just couldn’t resist digging our fingers into it but wait was what was in store for us. We also had to go see my in-laws and once we were late to return from there, my parents had already slept. So tired as we were, a simple hug and a birthday wish was all we could offer her that night before we all slept again.
The next day was packed for activities which included a visit to my parents favorite temple – Mahakaleshwar in Ujjain (M.P.). We woke up and got ready in a haste to reach the temple as early as possible so we don’t get to face the extreme heat. But this was my mum’s birthday and the cake cutting was in order. The cake was duly cut and dug in and she absolutely loved it. We then boarded a taxi and started for our journey. Quite frankly, as you will all see from our faces, we are a family of die-hard foodies. And one particular restaurant “Pappu Da Dhaba” holds special fondness among us. It serves hot breakfast with tea and just totally makes our day with it’s taste. The best part is, it’s located exactly at the half way point between Bhopal and Indore and completely satiates any hunger for the rest of the day. Here is one picture of the route I took with my phone’s camera –
It was a glorious day, bathed in sunshine, with mild heat emanating from the ground, making it so much more comfortable. I hadn’t had a field day in months and I was absorbing all that nature had to offer. We reached Ujjain in around 3.5 hours and headed straight to the temple.
To learn more about Ujjain, please click the link below –
The temple hosts Lord Shiva in his most glorious of forms. As taking pictures inside the temple isn’t allowed, I couldn’t get any but they certainly are available all over the net. Try and search it out for yourself or visit this site –
On normal days, the temple is absolutely packed full of pilgrims at all times but for some strange reason, we were quite early there that day even at 12:30 pm and the temple to our collective sighing souls was fully available for view at our discretion. Here are some pictures we took at the pavement –
This is my family (from the left) – wife, dad and mom!
Indian rituals wherein we tie threads to trees for every prayer or wish we want to come true –
We then went from temple to temple, all of whom held historical significance and here are some pictures from them –
By the time we were done with the 4th temple, moms feet had given away and we decided to direct our journey back for home. It got very cloudy and then rainy by the time we re-crossed the same “Pappu Da Dhaba” but that didn’t deter us from taking a tea break there. Here are some pictures from the way I think are worth noting –
I was surprised to see something that mom and wife had bought right outside the main temple – a Rudraksh that contained nearly all the elements that pertain to Lord Shiva. I think it’s fantastic. I have tried washing them and nothing but some paint has come off it for I just couldn’t believe that something of this sort could exist, so apparently it may be real too –
Coming home, late that evening, I couldn’t help but realize how nature tries and holds it’s course while all that humans do gets dissolved in it. We pollute it and then we preserve it but how it has stayed pure at its roots is something what should teach us – to hold on to our firm pure roots.
The third day was my moms kitty party and oh man – how do us guys then realize that we aren’t even welcome home for those 4 hours. They despise us, hate us and then it’s left up to our better judgement to find a place where we can spend those 4 hours loafering around the city. It was that afternoon that I tasted peppermint right from it’s leaves in a nursery. It was heavenly.
The next evening after a lunch at my in-laws, we left back for Delhi.
I loved the journey and couldn’t help but share it with you guys.
Thanks for reading.
Perhaps a lot of hapless bands in India can take a lot out of these songs. There definitely are better artists in India than this song portraits but they are being lost into oblivion. Obviously Ankit Tiwari, the singer, did a fantabulous job making the song as energetic yet mellow. The guitars definitely helped.
My view – the song rocks.
I think that’s the best part about writing. No one discourages you from writing if you have a steady income coming from some other source of course. I’ve written for a year now, although small, unnoticeable stuff, but no one says,”You know you should reconsider if you want to write anymore”!
A colleague of mine just left and he didn’t say goodbye – he just said – don’t stop writing!
This is appreciation for me. This is what motivates me.
I see them. I see them everyday. In my TV, on my FB wall, Pinterest, Twitter and quite a lot everywhere around me. Yeah, right. I’m jealous. People having all sorts of fun all the time, posting pictures, the sun, the moon, the stars, the sea, the mountains, the lakes, the oceans, orange, green, blue, buildings with immaculate architectures. Why do we post everything on Facebook, twitter or blah blah??? Having fun is fine but we create albums only to share. Share – I guess thats the answer most people will give to my questions. People who fail to understand that all that they are doing is giving someone and something completely unknown the power to control their information, some of whom may be very personal. Doesn’t it scare you?
My wife loves pets!
If I allow her, she may even turn our home into a zoo, quite literally! From birds to mice to cats to dogs to anything even remotely tamable, she would own each one of them if my salary ever permitted. Thank God, it doesn’t! As I just don’t quite share the same penchant for pets as she does.
But I love her and so a gift on her first birthday after our marriage was always on and to celebrate it, I decided to gift her a new pet. Now what would it be? A dog, a cat and a lot other species came to my mind but I stuck to dogs. Reason – they are easily controllable. I’d rather not have an animal around me that doesn’t listen to me if I call out its name and dogs were the best bet against them. Once tamed, they won’t bite or so I was told. Also, my wife hates the attitude thrown by some cats which I quickly learned when one of our friends got himself 2 cats. I also had to take care of the fact that life as a software engineer can be very busy and hence, not every pet will be able to survive with us.
I just casually asked her once, which dog would she like to own and she quietly replied – a Labrador. I thought – a good choice. They are the friendliest creatures on this planet and understand humans way better than most other species. They are good to kids, elders, are very playful and don’t bark much. I loved all these qualities and hence a Labrador, it would be. The color thankfully was up to me to decide and hence, I went for a peaceful faun. One rainy day I took a day off from my work (lied to my boss) and took my wife for a ride on my bike. Reached a market that I had found after a thorough research and got to the sought pet-shop. Sent my wife in who saw two ultra cute labrador brothers in a basket. Sleeping – one on top of another. Took both of them in our hands and looked at them and we got ourselves one that had the kindest face. I still say that he has the kindest face ever among all living beings but that’s just my view. We were on our way back with him in her hands, when she casually asked,”What should we name him?”. We discussed for about a kilometer or so when we came upon “Shrek” and there it was decided, for his ears were packed filled with dirt.
Being untrained and only 30 days old, he had to learn a lot about living with humans. So dirty he was, that we had to take him for bath to a close but very homely dog parlour. They had their own 2 dogs that they took care of and Shrek even though, was very scared to interact with both of them, would come to love them both after 3 visits. And he was so tired and sleepy after that hefty bath that he couldn’t even open his eyes with all his effort. Here are some pics from that day after his bath –
Thankfully my wife those days wasn’t working and hence it proved easy for us to teach the little guy. No wonder, he was getting all the colors of my wife as he spent all of his days with her. There were also some dark times in the fellows starting days with us. Even though I loved him in my home, I hated him for shitting anywhere in the house as he took some time to get potty trained, eating anything, from anyone’s hands and tearing things apart – he even ate my laptop’s charger once while it was plugged in. And I will never forget the first time I hit him. The bugger just won’t stop crying. One right hand right below his neck and he slammed into the cupboard. That was the first time I cried for him too for I will never forgive myself for that dastardly act.
The only problem we have never faced from him was barking or howling unnecessarily. He is as quite as a whisper and sometimes it’s easy to lose him in the silence. He never barked. He played like hell but never barked. There was one time, which my wife would forever be jealous about – he was very small and was watching other kids play outside of our home all the while peeking from below our main iron gate and a football came flying towards him and hit the gate right above his head, we heard the loud thud – he was so scared, he ran and ran so fast and although he was forbidden to jump up onto our bed, he jumped and came and sat on my lap all the while looking back as if the ball would still be chasing him. I saw fear in his eyes and I then knew, how dependent he really was upon us and why he shall forever seek our shelter.
He is resilient but not brave like other dogs who can fight with other dogs. He is brave as in he can really sustain himself for a long time in adverse conditions and hence, he has survived our bitter times with us. There were days when he was a sole light in our dark days, always happy running around the house like not a thing in the world could bother him. And then there were bad days. There was one such instance of his bravery that highlights what I’m talking about. If anyone has ever owned a dog, they would know how difficult it is for dogs to control their potty behaviour. They have to take a shit if they feel the urge or they will do it anywhere. We had to travel from Bangalore to Delhi as we were relocating after some hard times. This guy had turned around six months old by then and had gotten big. Thankfully, it was only his size that had grown and not the weight else we would have had to go well beyond our budget and make him travel by air than by a train. Now to tell you guys the truth, Indian railways sucks with facilities for humans so we can totally understand how good it would be for pets. For pets these guys have a 2×4 cage, a dark one where the animal is supposed to be tied by a chain with his food, in the ticket inspectors room. The cage is never cleaned and while I was tying him in it, I felt a sudden urge to abandon all plans of travel itself as I couldn’t myself bear the smell emanating from it. He went in, stood there and barked. I think he knew whatever was going on wasn’t good. Now before going into the details of the travel, let me tell you he had been at the receiving end of an absolute horror of a day which was unbearably hot and he had been tied to a tree for around 3 hours with no food and no shit or piss as we were moving out of our house. We straight up carried him in our AC taxi where for the first time during his day, he slept. Coming back to the journey, the journey was supposed to take 27 hours to our home town Bhopal from where we would carry on to Delhi while Shrek would stay with mom and dad. The journey only had 6 stops on the way where at each stop I was supposed to feed him, each stop being 2-3 minutes each. That meant that he would be fed alright but won’t get to shit as he was taught very early not to shit where he sat. And he didn’t. He ate but didn’t poop. At Bhopal when his turn came to come out of the cage, the guy was sitting all frightened in the cage but jumped on me with so much love as soon as his chains came off. He was dirty but it didn’t matter to us then. I took him and he couldn’t have been any happier. We never anticipated such behaviour from him but learnt soon enough that he wouldn’t leave me. Thankfully, he was to be taken home then and given a bath and relieve himself to all ends. Mom and dad were so happy with the love they received from him, it didn’t take him any time to mingle with them. We were proud of him.
The same thing repeated again when we brought him to Delhi with us. The same train journey although very short 10 hour one and he was welcomed by a brand new home that was burning our human feet as if an oven in the Delhi summer. We were proud of him again when he learnt the very first day that he was not to spread dirt anywhere other than the roof. This was an untrained dog but he could converse with us almost akin to humans. This is our buddy when he was 6 months old –
Another one of his most brilliant qualities is he loves water. He can bathe for several hours together and swim for another countless ones right after that. He swam the very first day he caught the sight of a pool. Thankfully the pool was made for pets and he showed us all his panache while pumping himself forward, rolling in the water. While all his friends only roamed around the pool looking at him, we could sense the jealousy in them. We were made proud again. Not something that happens to us very often.
We lovingly call him “Shreka” and he has so many other names and he somehow responds to all of them, something rather rare as I have heard most dogs only respond to names that either make a sound like their own or by their own name itself. But he can respond to us anytime.
He is happy with us. I can tell. My wife – she can tell. The way he jumps on our chests when we return home after our day of work is such a lovely adorable welcome, the tail wagging, a happy face, asking us to feed him so he can gain energy again to run up and down the house. He is amazingly fast for a labrador and loves skidding on our marble floor. Loves jumping and as soon as you touch the top of his head, he is bound to leap up to your chest to get a hug. The way he always peeks from the side of the stairs when we call him from the roof right at the start of his descent, all of it makes him so lovingly cute and we can never ever get tired of him. He does get me angry sometimes but that’s ok. As long as he is fine with me being angry at him, I can make do with the status of his master.
You are such a sweetheart Shrek. May you live with us for at least 20 years more!!!
Happy Birthday to you!
Here are his latest pictures – He is all grown up now to be 3 years old. And weighs a nice 36 kgs.
I have to say that I have been an absolute and true fool to miss out on a very important comment that was lying in my comments list. The comment was:
“Hi. Because of your wonderful and funny posts, I have nominated you for Very Inspiring Blogger Award.
Man, the comment came to me on 20th January 2013. Sorry for the ignorance but I am truly honored and I bow my head and say thanks to you for nominating me for this award. It feels so special to be made to feel worthy of this award. So here it goes –
It seems that I have just been given a Very Inspiring Blogger Award by http://www.jumbledwriter.com. Thanks a lot for nominating me JW! It means a lot! I am going to follow the rules, which are as follows:
1.) Display the award logo –
2.) Link back to the person who gave you this award nomination –
Already done 🙂
3.) State seven pieces of information about yourself and I’ll go absolutely random about it –
1. I love sunsets and sunrises, seas, greenery, hills, mountain ranges.
2. I would love to play in snow sometime.
3. Someday I would love to become a mainframe guru.
4. All my life I have been surrounded by fools who think they are very smart and will outrun me but they don’t realize I’m a rabbit who is only pretending to be asleep and no turtle can beat me to the finish line this time.
5. I love Rock, Trance and Indian classical music..
6. My favorite quote is – “Leave me alone”.
7. I believe that someone who can’t love his wife, doesn’t deserve one!
4.) Nominate and link 15 fellow bloggers –
Quite frankly, there are so many others I would have absolutely loved to mention here as all of them are my favorites but these guys came to the top my random list.
An enraging matter. An enthralling matter. I thought I had seen it all in the city where I live. Protests, violence, rapes, eve-teasing. But I hadn’t yet seen the perfect answer call to it. They fought valiantly only to find themselves unheard.
The pictures shown as a part of this link will exhibit the perfect sense of what women are considered in our so-called “Modern India” and what our artists feel about it!
From live exhibits to wall arts, they have it all.
How cars changed our world, literally! We built our world infrastructure around our four wheeled friends. Roads, landscapes, buildings and henceforth, money! Follow the link, look at the pictures and you’ll know what I’m talking about!