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Friday, May 17, 2024

Books - My blessings in disguise

Did a book (or books) ever come to you which has an uncanny resemblance with your own life and the stories they carry brings a sense of familiarity? One that can be tagged as 'been there done that'.

Isn't it that the writer writes from Her/his viewpoint and what each reader perceives is unique to their own experiences? more like that of an impression of a thumb?

In my reading journy, I am currently towards the tail end of 'Heal Me', written by Julia Berkley. I had started reading it a long time ago... probably in the year 2015/17. The motivation was my assumption - that it might have an explanation or summary of how various spiritual healing therapies work as I was beginning one of my own. As I progressed with my reading, the book was turning into something totally different and was more about 'Chronic Pain' which the author was dealing with and which almost made her disable and limited in her day-to-day living. The book narrated her journey thru the Chronic pain to her healing with unshakable grit to find solution that spoke to her soul. I was thinking of leaving the book as it without finishing (a rarest of rare phenomenon with me) but then, a close Friend of mine developed sever chronic pain that ran from neck to brain and I went deep in shock and Paranoia as we ran from Doctors to MRI labs. For almost two three years we dint get down to a proper diagnosis of what was the issue and whenever it appeared, it disturbed the whole routine of my friend and it got more challenging when we dint know what to fix. 

And that is how I went back to the same book and as I progressed (utterly slow); dealing with - the unknown, the emotional shift and bearing,  the what if's. I gained my resilience and found solace in this book while I dealt with the hurt one goes thru when they see a dear one being utterly helpless and in Pain. The curiosity that I will be able to find a way out thru this book helped me to continue... but again, I left it  half way as life took over in form of regular visits to doctors, new understanding of the conditions and the challanges that followed all along and we navigated.

After another few years, being on a target of reading one book per week (with office colleagues) I resumed reading this book again as the vibrant red cover page will standout and remind me over and over that I need to finish reading it. It was also the time where I personally had experienced healing therapies which required a lot of  inwardly work and which encouraged to sit with your emotions, give a voice to them and allow them to be felt and acknowledged. The book not only helped me gain more awareness towards people dealing with chronic pain but also understand what a 'Journey of healing' calls for and I think I can write lengths about it too:) ..but better to keep it for another day, another blogpost. That said, I must call-out 'acceptance' plays a biggest role in that journey.

Talking of books, I also read a few beautifully written, soul enriching love tales which were drawn from mythology or stood the test of time. The characters who bore the weight of righteousness, of loving the outcaste, of following the path of love, of Grace, of compassion and how each of it became a work that exhibits timelessness, of distance, of being alive with that one flame of love that stay ignited in times of dispair and wars, that of surrender, that of loss of self and the unborn...it all felt as if I have had been there in some lifetime and experienced that. Some of those books helped me bring acceptance to my 'now' to drop struggle and trust in the path laid by the supreme. 

In someway or the other, it felt as if those books chose me and were so close to the journey of my life and it still shocks me to realise how I received them, just in time for when I needed them the most, to be felt heard and understood!, some bore answers for my life's conditions and some soothed my emotional turmoil. Some became my string of support which helped me continue in my darkest of hours and brought that hope and willingness for ease. Some just walked along in manner of timeless tales and consoled that I am not alone on this Journey I chose.

Reminiscing about how my psychich environment longed for something unknown  and each of those chapters and readings created a bespoke fulfilling experience. How it all was coming to life as I continue to be accompanied with a Book...either on long or short train journeys, at botanical gardens, at the beach shore amidst the gushing sea waves, at airports and in flights, at that one corner of my house beaming with the warmth of sunshine, amidst the monsoon rain drops sounds, at the quite balcony illuminated with the light from street lamp or at those long nights that were a struggle.

All in all...Books turned out to be my blessings in disguise ๐Ÿ’“  and I am immensely grateful for each one of them; for the art of writing, for those who crafted the stories, for those who bridged the gaps of past and present.

Monday, May 13, 2024

Not all days are same..

After a bit of ease that I felt in last two days, today was different. I wokeup extreamly tired and hopeless sort.. without any willingness to step out or even touch work.

To tick the general routine, I got up from my bed, stepped out of my house and went upstairs to adore the rising Sun from the open terrace, but I felt as if it was just my mind that walked along and my heart and soul were completely missing in action.

Withdrawn, I came back to my room, tucked myself in my bed again... asked Alexa to wake-me up after an hour and repeatedly reminded myself 'I am allowed to take it easy and rest and just be' untill my body dropped all the morning rush, the uncalled guilt and lay easy. Between these thoughts and efforts, I was zoning in and out and at one point,  I was subconsciously working on myself; my breath was slow and easy, I asked myself to allow it to surface- the thoughts or beliefs which are deep rooted and which are no-longer helping me. To my surprise a scene flashed! I was approached by a white British guy in light blue formal shirt and he was irritated with my question expressed it by throwing a glass full of coffee at me and said you chose 'hurt'!.

Just after that statement, very next moment I was wide awake in my mind and it almost felt like a revelation...I looked deeper and scanned my feelings, thoughts, encounters with people, places, events etc and that one emotion I carried as a baggage all thru....'The Hurt'. What troubled more was the fact that I chose it for me, many time knowingly and a few times unknowingly. My cheeks were wet with hot tears streaming from my eyes, with each interpretation, resemblance of this truth in my waking life and I analysed it further. I sobbed. It all looked quite dramatic but not to my heart....it was what it was! without a doubt. I experienced  humiliation, hurt and disrespect when the coffee scene appeared. And I sat with that emotion to let myself be less judgmental and allow that feeling to fade away.

I wondered where and at what age I started to feel the need for me to embrace hurt or not feel worthy of love, ease, care etc?...and the memories speeded back to my childhood. I grew up telling myself that I am a burden to my family and that I need to be soon on my own... It hurts as I write this but yes, that is my truth. A lot of deep dive and work of self-healing is needed to allow to cleanse the psyche and flow with life...as it's all locked in layers and would surface as it gets triggered with outside world.

Hence, Not all days are same.. some are miraculous like today when a burden is lifted off. 

I regained a bit of self-worth when a friend called (almost after an year) trusted me to confide in me and share about the challanges he is dealing with in his life and at last there was a sweet goodbye with a care and respect intact. Knowing I have blessings in form of 'such friendships' make me to walk along with life wherever it takes me...




Sunday, May 12, 2024

The Creative Flow & Medium

Today noon, while I was on call with my Mom (listening to her on speaker), I stumbled upon an old picture of the Diwali decoration that I did last year. The images flashed happy memories of the joyous time I had;  how I was immersed in my creative flow by using flowers, a cutout of a purple fabric (a blouse piece I had got as a Tambulam). I kept swiping the pictures in my Google photo gallery and they all appeared in chronological order, as if painting and narrating a day-long story. Those handmade Flower garlands, the Torans which me and my neighbour did; we were a bit frugal and behaved as an ambassador of sustainability ๐Ÿ˜Š - we gathered the raw material for decoration from around our houses and later conceptualized them all. And when the evening fell, we lit mud oil-lamps inside and at the outdoors, in the balcony and it added a warm festive feeling to my day. Not to mention, how the 'Geru Mandna'  accentuated the earthy decor. The pictures ended long after the call was over and it left me with my muse - 'The Creative Flow & Medium' 

At one point durning scrolling the e-pictures, I went back to a picture of staircases and zoomed-in to see the intricate design It had; I couldn't believe it was me who did it! - all by myself. I was transported back to the deep sense of ease and timelessness I felt as I was putting the designs. On that day of Diwali, there were deep emotions I was soaking up on...while I was feeling the wet Geru dripping from my fingers, I was also holding the red slurry intact on the soaked cotton ball which was tucked-in between the grip of my fingers such that it all gets collected and drip thru the ring finger and the cotton ball was working as an ink refill of a fountain pen, while I draw designs. Each design was emerging effortlessly on it's own and was getting imprinted on the staircase tile one after the other and I was in awe of the feeling of ease that my whole being experienced (which is a rarest of rare occurrence). I even remembered the song that was playing in the background - Ram aange to Angna sajaugi.... probably deep within my heart I was associating the art with welcoming Lord Ram as it was Deepavali day. I wasn't in any rush, nor there was any guests who were invited or expected....but all I know was something in me was elevated to a different zone. This was also the very first time I was not referring to any images on web or internet, my conscience was my reference and library. On and off I took trips to my childhood where I recalled my aunt (eldest Badi Mummy) who would do these at the entrance of house door, shops and near the Mandir space and I would be her baby assistant following her to every nook and corner of the house, tracing in my mind her hand moves as she interchanged between the red and white Geru and a design gets crafted. It all gave me immense joy and a weird sense of completion as if given a chance, I would just want to do these endlessly and decorate every surface. 



As I was penning my thoughts here, I realized how I usually struggled to try different Artworks, feared exploring different mediums or the creative depth for either the cost involved in it or fearing failures.. inspite of no-one to question me or judge me but an intangible mental boundary always exited, hard and loud and it suffocated me. But with 'Geru'- The Earthy medium, I was at my creative best... Flowing effortlessly, fearlessly, without any limits and evolving.

With Geru, I was aware of the fact that water can take it all away in the blink of an eye or stomping shoes on the steps can easily scrub it too but I was thoroughly enjoying every moment of it as it was interlaced with timelessness and this is how I learned the innate affinity of a creative heart towards a particular medium and they both flow together!


๐Ÿ’

Wednesday, May 8, 2024

(M)Other Day turned happy!

I walked into office cafeteria for breakfast and while I was serving, the chef on duty walked up to me and we started casually chatting about things. 

After the general chit-chat, he inform me that at lunch same cafeteria has a special arrangement on occasion of Mother's day (which was being celebrated today)... And he also wish me "happy mothers day". In my confused state of mind - speculating if today 8th of May is mother's day or it's few days down the line and also wondering why the chef felt like wishing me mother's day?


Two things struck my heart at that moment. One- while serving food and talking with Chef, I generally enquired if he is planning any vacation anytime soon?...to which responded that he will be visiting his home town on his mother's death anniversary, which is nearing. Hearing his response left me numb for a micro second and just than a few other old colleague from my ex-team walked in and started chit-chatting. I had to say bye to the chef and headed to my breakfast table.


While eating, I started to wonder how can just one day make any justice to the role of a 'mother'. It is that girl's whole life which turns upside down as she embrace motherhood (not denying any part of all shoutout worthy father's on this journey and partnership). And then my thoughts drifted off to the life my mom would have had before having me as her first kid.


Totally absorbed in my thoughts I forgot that the celebration in office is predated and I went ahead and wished my mom 1.1 and aunts on the family chat group. In my attempt to tease mom,  I also shared a funny video of her and me where she is applying facial cream to me a bit forcibly but we both were having fun! And I had tagged her saying 'I will always remember this torture ๐Ÿ˜‚'. But that annoyed her and she sent an audio response, warning me in a stern tone...."Hadn't I told you not to share such videos on groups ever?!"


That audio sent a chill across my spine alerting it of harm...and it reminded me of my childhood traumas etc. Now that I am bit aware, I sat with my emotion and just acknowledged it. I forgave myself and my mom for it not being her fault or even if she is struggling with a poor self-image. I wished her well in my heart and thoughts. But deep down...in some tiny-whiny corner of my heart I yearned for her love....her understanding...of her acceptance of me as a child....but possibly that's not for me yet and I am ok. 


Then as I wrapped my office for the day (a bit early) I called her and texted her...felt as if she is avoiding my calls and ignoring and I let her as I too am helpless when it comes to helping her of such situation. Then after a while she sends me a pic of a baby bird that Came in our home garden and my heart was in it's most joyous mode. She asked which bird is it..and my most sincere answer was - Probably the one I have been searching from my childhood..My lost friend. (Remembering a childhood pic of mine with a pet parrot sitting on my shoulder) but she thought I am kidding and again asked (little strictly) to check and let her know. I searched online and it was a budgies...one from parakeet family. Just knowing that a bird felt so safe to land at my hometown and in my home gardens where I use to spend my childhood days playing in mud and among the trees and plants for hours, lifted my spirits. Mom had offered some chapati pieces and water. She herself was amazed with the ease of that bird and that she was eating effortlessly. And to me it was a magic to feel my Mom's love through that birds visit.




Indeed God has a wonderful way in which it speaks and soothes ones soul. I feel blessed. I shared that Bird pic on my status and titled it as ' mere ghar aayi ek nanhi Pari' and those were my truest feelings for that beautiful baby bird๐Ÿ’ž





Mother's Day turned happy!

Sunday, May 5, 2024

And just like that the vacuum engulfed

And just like that the vacuum engulfed,
Not that I wasn't aware...

But I wasn't prepared.


I laughed at the absurdity of vaccum,

It speaks:

And spoke the language that shredded my soul...more and more ..


The deep Kalahari desert of stigma reverberated,

Collapsing all that "I" was...


In my effort to show some love to self...

I frantically search!

Anything to distract myself 


And inadvertently, I go back to

Thinking...how? it all could be...


And just like that the vacuum engulfed.

Not that I wasn't aware...

But I wasn't prepared.


(Dated 21 Dec 2023)

Thursday, May 2, 2024

เคนเคฎ เคธเคฌ เคจे เค–เคค เคฒिเค–े...

เคนเคฎ เคธเคฌ เคจे เค–เคค เคฒिเค–े...

เค•เคญी เคฆเคฏा เค•ी เคชเคฐ्เคšी 

เคคो เค•เคญी เคงเคฐ्เคฎ เค•ा เคกंเค•ा,

เค•เคญी เคช्เคฏाเคฐ–เคฎोเคนเคฌ्เคฌเคค เค•े เคชैเค—ाเคฎ, 

เค•เคญी เคฎเคจ्เคจเคคों เค•े เคซเคฐเคฎाเคจ

เค•เคญी เค–ोเคœ–เค–เคฌเคฐ,

เค•เคญी เคธिเคชाเคนिเคฏों เค•ी เคถाเคจ

เคคो เค•เคญी เคถเคนीเคฆों เค•े เคจाเคฎ!

เค•เคญी เคฒिเค–े เคชเคฐिเคฃाเคฎ,

เคคो เค•เคญी เค—ुเคฃ–เค—ाเคจ।


เคนเคฎ เคธเคฌ เคจे เค–เคค เคฒिเค–े...

เค•เคญी เคฒिเค–ा เคฏाเคฆों เค•ो,

เค•เคญी เคฒिเค–ा เคตाเคฆों เค•ो,

เค•เคญी เคฌเคธ เคฎเคจ เค•ी เคจเคœ़ाเค•เคคों เค•ो...

เค•เคญी เค•िเคฏा เคœ़ाเคฏा เคคเค•เคฐाเคฐ,

เคคो เค•เคญी เคธเคฌ्เคฐ เค•ा เค•िเคฏा เคฌेเคก़ा เคชाเคฐ।

เคนเคฎ เคธเคฌ เคจे เค–เคค เคฒिเค–े...


เค•ुเค› เค–เคค เคธे เคเคธे เคญी เคฐเคนे

เคœो เค•ाเค—เคœ़ เคชे เค‰เคคाเคฐे เคนी เคจเคนीं เค—เค

เคฐเคนे เคตो เคฎเคจ เค•े เคฌเค•्เคธे เคฎें..'

เคฌเคจเค•เคฐ 'เค–เคคा' เค•िเคธी เค•ी

เคœो เคฒिเค–े เคคो เค—เค, 

เคชเคฐ เคฐเคน เค—เค เคฆเคฌเค•เคฐ ....

'เค…เคนเคฎ' เค•े เคธिเคฐเคนाเคจे เคคเคฒे।


Wednesday, March 20, 2024

What happens to 'her' afterwards?

What happens to 'her' afterwards? Nothing much; but...

When chaos settled in her surroundings...

She tries to make sense of it all...what just (had) happened?

She starts to piece memories together....

The happy and warm ones for her lonesome lost nights...

The unforgettable harsh ones to fight the day...wearing her armour - a smile and grace.



What happens to 'her' afterwards?

Nothing much; but...


She fails to understand why tears swell in her eyes and why morsel of her meals choke her...

All of it while listening to happy songs!

Has her mind forgotten the meaning of happiness? Or her heart being used often?



What happens to 'her' afterwards?

Nothing much; but...


She tries to find an anchor, an escape from dwelling questions in her mind...

By being out there - with change; of Place, People - she meet or chooses not to,

Or just in the meaningless busyness of the mundane.



What happens to 'her' afterwards?

Nothing much, but...


'Her world' shrunken... In conscience and in physicality, 

further on timelines of life and lifelessness 

She experiences myriad emotions in a blink of eye.


She isn't afraid of the chaos or stillness but dreaded!, rather feels challenged...

By Her own ethical boundaries and beliefs 

By Her own understanding of who 'she' is now And to 'whom?'



What happens to 'her' afterwards?

Nothing much; but...


She now doubts herself forever more...

If every single time the 'trust' she relay out to the world, to join hands...

If she is meant to shed every ounce of her dignity, her character...?


What happens to 'her' afterwards?


Nothing much; but...


She goes in and out of such cycles of woundless hurt,

Wonders if 'her' choices or mistakes can be forgiven...if there is a way back or if there exists her piousness...


What happens to 'her' afterwards?


Nothing much; but...


Keeping mum to the world...her knowledge of self paints a different story..

With colors of Dark and doomed, betrayed or abandoned...



What happens to 'her' afterwards?


Nothing much, but..


She muster-up courage in her broken shattered being...to believe that, possibly some day her path will lead her towards light...


That, a day would come when she wouldn't seek peace and belonging outside... rather she will breath her last in ease and glory.