life's a kick

  He doesn't look 40, does he? A couple of years ago, I picked up a renowned book by Mark Manson, The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck. I realized after going through the first few pages, that the book didn’t really offer anything new to me, courtesy my sibling teacher, my brother. What the book tried to teach in logic and words, my brother had taught me all along through practical demonstration. Almost all the good habits I have internalized so far, are owed to him. On his 40 th , it’s about time I pay my gratitude in ink. Let’s start with my first life lesson: Abandon labels In the 80s, even with limited access to TV for children of my generation, Bollywood faces were household names. Among them was the lesser known singer and widely popular actor-comedian, Tuntun. In those days, Tuntun was synonymous with overweight bubbly women. As the heaviest among three siblings, never mind that I was just five, brother chose to christen me Tuntun. It didn’t take any ceremony for the na...

  To the friend who missed seeing the moon of Buddha Purnima on the day of lunar eclipse: Dear friend, I begin to write this while simultaneously gazing at the moon. Or Super Blood Moon, as it is called today. This is a sight meant to be drunk in with the eyes. It calls for a complete surrender. If at all I am taking my eyes off this spectacular vision of life, it is to convey to you, the unspeakable beauty I have the fortune of witnessing today. I was walking down the road this evening in a nonchalance that typically accompanies a deep meditation session. It was a normal evening, until this sight came to vision. I went out for a walk. Soaked in the colors of twilight. Sat by at my everyday corner to meditate. Completed the meditation and started walking down the remainder of the road, looking out for little feathered friends and the usual canine company. It was then that the road turned and brought me face to face with the moon of today. It was like being thunder struck....

The silver oak tree...with its golden flowers Kasauli shivered in the summer night. The COVID era wedding allowed for only 25 attendees, and all of them were unprepared for the cold. Who packs up winter clothes in north India for the month of May? Moth, earwigs, and other insects lay dead or dying, also unable to cope with the whistling winds. The wedding was arranged in a hotel that stood atop a hill with the valley on one side and a lawn on the other, the latter being used for the functions. The white and golden canopy of the wedding tent was complemented with the simple and startling decoration of hundreds of tea lights. Though electronically controlled, their flickering flames looked real in the weather. Yellow fairy lights swirled around tree trunks and branches around the lawn. Natural mist diffused the lighting (and the mood) in a way that most exotic places couldn’t match. It looked like the place was ready to welcome gods of heaven. A sickle moon rose above the imposing Deod...

  Ache: Hey there, honey! Me: (I look up glumly) Ache: One of those days that you're invoking my transformational powers, eh? Me: About time you stopped making fun of my lows. Ache: Lows? You call them lows? I provide free-of-cost revelations to you, and you label them lows? I mean, people hire fancy consultants for unearthing those nuggets of gold. Me: Not all your revelations are pleasant, you know. Ache: If they were, you wouldn’t have developed the ability for compassion, would you? Me: Agree. And I’m also human, and I also need compassion. Now do you mind leaving me alone? (I choke)   Ache: There, there…I would leave you forever, if that’s what makes you happy. I am not an unsolicited guest anyway. Me: Is it? When did I invite you, I...

  I think I have begun losing sanity, You see, I now hate humanity! The uncle who wears an overcoat In just the same shade of fawn He makes my heart go racing I wish he never was born The officer who now does your role Tries hard to fit into your shoes Wears it like a big bad cloak Misfit, lax, and loose Then there’s this army officer His hair cut just like yours He makes me fall to the ground I wish he returns to his force Now most of them can be borne Except that one special guy Tall, broad, and strong Turning heads as he walks by His voice is also deep His demeanour known to be sweet He even matches your gait Nearly stops my heartbeat Every day on that street That you’d walk by each day Tucked in the corner in my car For just one look at you, I pray There’s a crowd that walks down that road The officer, the woman, the boy Yes – I hate everyone that’s not you My love, my life, my joy.

Pic Courtesy: Manish Kumar from  https://www.ek-shaam-mere-naam.in/ Every time I have stood there and gazed at you, I have felt there is stillness in the world. Within and without. You, too, have been rather committed in communing with me. You have returned my admiration with fondness. You have calmed my agitated heart. You have centred my mind. And as if it was not beautiful enough to see your glowing countenance, you have run a slideshow of people who long for - just as I long to see you in your full glory. Telling me that we are all united...through you.  Standing there on the terrace, holding you in my unblinking eyes, I have known what it means to breathe comfort. You are just one of those phenomena that prove perfection exists. You stand there as a constant reminder to us lesser mortals to be more than lesser. Way more. You tell us that the idea is to be this beautiful, this comforting, and this graceful, no matter who we are.  How do you do it? Ma...

Up rises the fragrance of the chandan-rose incense wafting through spaces, flooding and intense Dissolved in the fume is a pleasurable pang the beauty that went void that never filled-up blank By now the room is full with everything that’s you a long breath of peace fragrant, uplifting, true As the stirring strains of sitar it heals me deep and beyond for you’re there in what I am and my world is loving and fond

“Auntie, where did you learn swimming?” Standing at the shallow end of the swimming pool, I was vigorously shaking my head to get rid of the water in my ears when this girl, around 10, approached me. “Sorry? You said something?” “Yes auntie. Where did you learn swimming?” “Umm…in a swimming pool in Dwarka.” “How long did you take to learn all the strokes you do. Especially butterfly?” “I took long. Almost two full seasons. Breathing and butterfly took the longest.” “So they taught you all the strokes there?” Asked the mother of this girl, inching closer, who was hitherto standing a few feet away. Her curiosity was piqued by now. On her shoulder clung her younger daughter. I had an audience of three. “My girls admire you. The way you swim non-stop. And also your butterfly and diving. So we wanted to find out about your trainer,” the mum added. “Beta, introduce yourself,” she chided her older daughter who looked at me with zero interest in personal introduc...