Monday, September 7, 2009

Morning is here..

Nothing can beat the steaming idli-wada and a glass of steaming hot tea in the mess on a cloudy morning. Nothing can beat a ride of your bicycle on the road before main building with the surprising peeping in of the sun through the thick foliage of the almost a century old trees. Nothing can beat the early hours in your lab with barely anybody around. Nothing can beat this silence with a trivial humming of the computers. Nothing can beat the stillness of the trees outside the window with the immaculate sunlight reflecting over its' leaves and an occasional stir from the pleasant morning breeze. Nothing can beat the thoughts pouring in my mind on being a part of this calmness. Nothing can beat the rhythm of life that would grow as the hours proceed. And nothing can beat this serendipitous encounter with the morning.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

आठवणींचे कप्पे

आठवणींचे कप्पे कोड्यांसारखे असतात
कधीतरी उघडतात, कधीतरी अडकतात

कुठून मागे वळलो हेच विसरून जातो
कप्प्यातून जाता जाता जुन्यात हरवून जातो

क्षण एखादाच म्हणावा की क्षणांचेच चित्र जरतारी
लाटांवर मन माझे, मी उभी एकटी किनारी

भेटले मी कितीक जणांना, स्पर्शले कितीक रंगांना
आता स्पर्शूनी जाती आठवणी माझ्या सर्वांगांना

मागे वळून पाहण्याची सवयच मज पुढे नेते
एकएक आठवण माझी मी कवेत घेऊन जाते


I am pleased to have honor of posting this poem composed by a friend. She did it when we were chatting over the topic of my previous blog post 'Precious Memories Shining Bright...'. I was stunned by her spontaneous witting skills and more by the fact that my blog post made her to write it.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Precious memories shining bright…

Journeying back in the starry space of memories has always been a pleasant experience for me. All sort of incidents - sad or sweet, long or brief, fun or torment, pride or embarrassment – when turn into memories, become treasured gems that you look upon and feel so content having them. Memories never let liveliness of the moment die away. Although you can’t remember the form of those incidents, the feel in it always remains the same. Memories make me laugh, they feel me with joy. Memories make me cry, they drown me in the somber shadow of disappointments. Memories make me go crazy, feel stupid. Nevertheless each one of them is equally precious and relished.

Often, my memories are like abstracts of essays that I have lived through. I never get a clip of events running before my eyes as exactly as had happened but I get a feel as exactly as I had felt then. Imagine not knowing what equation you are solving and getting the responses correct. That feel is a kind of such response, full of surprise and apprehension and yet joyous. The process of formation is too intrinsic and intertwined to make out separately. I have, quite a few times, found myself digging into that process of formation and ultimately landing up in a realization of its grandeur.

For me birth of a memory is as grand as birth of some star. It starts at a knock of some perturbation on the door of mind- space of your perceptions and emotions. No matter how small, it brings some kind of excitement to your mind, brings some deviation from state of equilibrium. It is like you are going through your planned routine so well, you are happy with all the balance you have achieved in your life, and suddenly out of thin air a wave reaches you and takes you to the higher energy state. It leaves you there to tackle with all the energy it has passed on to you, on your own. You are all in splintered chunks of thoughts. Gravity of mind tries to bring them, bind them together, fighting the ferocious energy within, roaring to break free. You are left with no doubt that you would hardly survive this fierce tussle of forces.

But knowing that the very existence of it is at stake gravity of mind hauls hard and takes itself to the point of balance where it can sustain all the energy it has been bestowed with. Thus you are back to your all-in-control position and there is a new memory star born that shines bright lifelong. It seems almost magical that all the energy that has been threatening its existence a moment ago gets transformed into its strength at the end.

This analogy may sound silly and unnecessarily elaborate, like some fairy tale or fantasy and yet the story is extremely realistic in both the contexts. Nevertheless, whatever equations pertain, a star hardly fails the process of coming to existence and shining right there piercing all the darkness around.

Friday, April 18, 2008

An Evening with Sun, Sea and Moon

Sitting here on a deserted seashore, when the day is closing to an end, sun even from behind the array of clouds trying to penetrate the waters with a few of its last rays, sea trying to hold back its waterfronts as if it will close-in into itself like a flower whenever it gets a chance to do so, I am completely absorbed by their ways. Every spec of sand around me, every drop of water in sea looks cheery with liveliness though in a few moments it will be drowning in the vastness of the night. The sun has kept its promise till the last breath and it’s their way to applaud in gratitude for him. They will survive the night on the remnants of verve they gathered from him over the day and hope to see him again next day. I learnt to keep hope alit in any kind of gloom from them. Things come and go; it lies with you to come out of each agony and ecstasy as calm and sane as you are by nature. I feel like coming here, coming to the sea, for this sunset, for these waves again and again.

I come here whenever I find time. I can sit here for hours listening to the waters. This sound makes me forget all worries. It says I put my thoughts to and while away my time for those worries, in vain.

I am not alone here and never was. The sea is with me. He talks to me about my ways, gives advices. He sings to me the songs I wish to listen. He smiles with me as I feel foolish for being too wary for nothing worthy. He laughs with me on a joke I remember for no reason. He dances on the rhythm of the dreams and wishes I indulge for myself.

He calls me beautiful in return to my praise for his grace. Nevertheless he never forgets to slap me with its watery splish-splash for my day’s wrongdoings. Yet I can feel the softness of a friend in that touch telling me not to make him do it again. It hurts him too. We both have a deep affection for each other.

As darkness spreads our parting comes in view and I push back the longing to stay back. I don’t know if I will get to return soon. He maintains a silence for a while, which I would never expect from him, adding to my restless mind’s predicaments. That silence makes it more difficult to say farewell. I wish I could make the flow of time pause for eternity at this scene. Then slowly he closes his eyes showing he is equally sad. Yet he does not say anything or won’t even fake a weak smile to cheer me a little. He is so cruel now. A tear rolls down my face and then as a fleet is about to follow he blows it away with a sweet wind of his sighs. And suddenly out of nowhere a silvery white ray reaches his face and shines in his watery eyes.

The moon is grinning with its crescent at my crying ceremony, saying he had been looking me from behind that cloud which just went ahead for some unavoidable reason he mentioned which he better had real one to stay out of trouble. He had been enjoying the spree … anyways, I could continue….!


She is one of the most precious persons I have got to be related with and by so close a relation as that of a sister. She has some unique characteristics of her own personality which she maintains, above all other things, consciously or unconsciously. In very much accordance with her name ‘RUJUTA’, which means delicate beauty, she is really very delicate and beautiful. I could never make out how our parents appropriately named her and didn’t make a mistake of giving me that name, which would have been very much inappropriate in any circumstances. She is four years younger to me and still stands taller than me, in both physical and intellectual sight. God will have to answer this unjust on his judgment day!

She has got some norms for life. She has certain ways of doings things. Some of those are much disciplined ones, which she would like to be done in that way only and some other are with no discipline at all which again she would want to be done with highest achievable degree of indiscipline.

She loves three things most- night sleep, day sleep and evening sleep! She can manage to carry out these tasks in very much continuation with almost nil breaks. Besides this prolonged state of being away from mortal world and it’s all kind of bustling sounds, she can even choose to ignore these things with same sanity while she is awake. I really wonder what earth she is made up of!

People say we don’t look like sisters at all or don’t share any behavioral pattern which can prove our relation. In apparent sense it is true to some extent but still there are some things deep inside us which make us alike. To mention a few of those - we both don’t want to be like each other, we both like to torment each other, we both like to pass on the tasks assigned to us by our parents to each other etc.

She has got a very good taste in everything like reading, movies, music, food, dresses and even friends. She has got some real gems as her friends - I literally had to beg her to include me in the list. She has got a good pace in doing things. It was me who started reading classic creations in English literature first but I am still to finish the two books I started with and she has completed one and almost done with the second one. This is very crude proof but those who seek strong reasons to believe this can contact our parents and be assured to get all your doubts cleared thoroughly.

Even after all this extolling she would not at all change her views for me, not even a bit. She is rock solid in her perceptions about people and has well established strategies to tackle them. If you are one of those who are close around her, you would appreciate this statement from the bottom of your heart.

Above all these facts one subtle observation I have made about her is that she is very much true to the heart and loves and cares for everyone around her including me. She looks an oddity when she tries to console me, cheer me up in gloomy moods, which she rarely does, as opposed to her routine manner, yet she tries it hard with very much honest and benign intention.

She is a little angel and…..a devil too!

Recent discovery has revealed some new dimensions of being RUJUTA like rectitude, simplicity and complexity together which makes the matter more complex to fathom! (Courtesy: Yogesh Jog)