To Be Young Again

Like so many others I too dream of being young again! Not to do things differently (well some of them I might, but thats not the main reason), but to experience those rushes again! The “Rush” of having girl look at you approvingly. “Rush” of seeing that girl board the bus again, whose name you never knew. The “Rush” of seeing that one girl in the group you liked look and smile at you! The “Rush” of getting smeared with colors and wish of Happy Holi by a beauty in the neighborhood you never thought could come to you.

Yes, its mostly about Love that I want to re-live again. Not that I am not getting love right now; in fact getting pure unadulterated version of it, but still those “firsts” never seize to haunt you. The first kiss, the first rainy walk under single umbrella, the first bike ride together and first movie holding hands.. All of those and many more had that young Adrenalin rushing. I doubt I can have it at this age. I can still trek 20 km or climb the Skandagiri again at this age, but those dopamine induced surge of serotonin and oxytocin have very little change of coming back.

I guess one needs to find out what one can do that has a flavor or rebellion, taboo-breaking activity that doesn’t threat to break the conformist risk-averse faithful to wife life that the age is comfortable with.

The Enigma Called Love

Since I guess I was 10, I have tasted love. Not just the motherly love but love from the opposite sex. Some might be just my imagination, but time has taught me, on hindsight, most of those cases, there were something that might be love. And then as I grew, I have gone though my fair share of ecstasy and heart breaks. In one hand it has definitely taught me how to love; yet what is the truest form of love still is an enigma for me.

There were some, which some will call infatuation, but that never stopped the heart from racing. There were some that made me believe in soul mates with telepathic connection; yet came to know that you can definitely have more than one soul mates. One might argue that if I have experienced so much in love, I should be knowing the alphabets, the grammar and the entire literature of love! Yet I feel to me its still an enigma, I only know bits n pieces of it.

How else can I explain my present condition? While I have absolutely no doubt that the love of my life I have presently is many times more than I ever dreamt for; yet I also pine for all those Ii have lost? I have absolutely no idea why in-spite of having a partner who can identify my mood from my breath, and knowing that someone in the past might have only used me while I emptied my heart on her and she might be still using me; yet I feel a connection and urge to keep an eye for her well being?

There were so many whose path departed from mine, some went happy, some cursed and yet some simply vanished. On and off they visit me in my thoughts and my heart becomes unsettled unaware of how they are. Never ever have tried to possess anyone, and tried to see them happy – some I know now; among them some living in pretense of happiness, some has accepted their share of misfortune and living it out. And here I am, with an unsettled heart and choking breath remembering and pining for them.

And thats why after all the love I have, it still is an enigma that I cant share with anyone!

Resume

Back once again, after a long hiatus. To a space which started in 2005 with “My Space” and is witness to so many of my transformations; so many highs and lows! So many memories stored in it. So many used to frequent this place. I guess most them are not around anymore. Many of you came to know me personally and hence I was no longer able to share my secrets here. And I miss it!

And the same happened with other platforms too. Facebook has all my relatives and Twitter has my business contacts. I sincerely hope I can be what I am here again. To share my innermost thoughts, my tears and my dreams. A place which will know me as I am and not judge me. A place where I can once again be the 15 year old that I always am. A place where I can proclaim my love for Magic. Where I can ask and get Hugs without thinking who I am giving or getting it from.

And no I have nothing who are around me in the physical world; but they have so many insecurities themselves that there is hardly any space for mine. All who are around looks up to me to be responsible, loving and caring! but the 15 year old needs hugs and cuddle too. The shoulder bearer needs a shoulder too! The Horus needs to soar without the string around its talon. The Rebel needs to shatter all the shackles.

This place has given me redemption – this place has given me the best love I ever imagined possible. This place has the magic to bring to life all that good in my life. Hoping to find the Phoenix to rise once again!

Finding Lost World

“Indra, keep the ball on the off stump.”

And off stump is where the next ball pitched. The bat went whack, the ball flew towards mid-off. Sugata, wanted to duck the hard deuce ball, and ran on a curved trajectory away from where he was standing. After running a few meters, he looked back, only to find the hard ball about to crash on his head! Instinctively he ducked again, hand on his head, and ball thumped on his upper back.

33 yrs later, a huge underground water reservoir stands at the same place, guarded by high fencing, locked gates, and a few elders sitting in front of the pumping station.

 

 

“Hey Sudip, that’s beauty of a cycle guru! When did you get it?”

“Not mine Indra, Turki got it yesterday. I just took it to have a round.”

“Let me also try.”

“Be careful, it a SLR, very fast bike”

 

After taking a round across the central park, Indra suddenly noticed, Sudip standing middle of the road. The speed was a bit too much; the brakes couldn’t stop it in time; it goes off the road, through the shrubs and crashed into the fences of a nearby garden, carefully maintained by the ground floor owner.

33 years later, the road around Central park is wider, but with several speed breakers, and metal fencing around it. There is no way a cycle can go off-road, or crash into a garden, which are no longer there.

 

 

“Dadai, I have got 10 fresh Kadam today. We won’t fall short before completing our full 3 game match”

“Good, better peel it here before entering our flat; otherwise we have to clean the floor, before mom comes back.” Indra instructed his 8-year younger brother, while inhaling the intoxicating fragrance.

33 Years later – the Kadam trees existence is hidden from view by a huge 2 storied structure housing community clinic among other setups. Only a mild wafting smell indicated it still there somewhere. Surely no one bothers to use its flowers to play table tennis on the dining table, using hard bound story books as bats, anymore.

 

 

The duo nick named Physics-Chemistry walked down the lanes of the complex, debating and discussing all topics possible under the sun, while carefully keeping an eye on all the group of chicks coming in and out of their safe walk zones. The group of trios who gave them the nicknames, were of particular interest. They came to know about it through a common female friend, only during the last Durga puja. Occasional appearance of another special interest coming back from tuition with her mom stole attention. A stealing glance and hint of a smile, made the day for Physics Chemistry.

 

33 years later, the streets and nooks are same. There are still young guys hanging around the corners. Some with Bikes and latest Vespa’s. But I guess the checking out has moved from there to the virtual world of social media. Only some middle-aged women, walking to keep themselves fit has replaced the safe zone walkers. Who knows some of them might be the same ones who were of interest 33 years back.

 

 

Indra kept walking those very familiar streets looking for missing scenes, fragrances and sounds. He frantically tried to somehow scavenge some hints of those moments lost more than 3 decades back. He hoped at least somethings will defy the time and peep-out from the overgrown weeds. Even the familiar afternoon feature of Joginder-bhai’s fuchka stand was missing. Just an aging face of Somenath bhai behind the ironing shack waving back was the last straw for otherwise sinking hope. Just as dejected, heartbroken he was forcing his legs to take an exit, about to sweep the crumbling hopes to find his teen-age world in the aging urban greenery, his eyes fell on a first-floor window. A teenage figure framed against the window grill, in white frock, reading a book, flowing mane covering her face. His heart skipped not one but several beats as he kept looking shamelessly at the view, wondering if he was looking through a time portal. The girl slowly tucked her hairs behind her ears, unmindful of a middle-aged watcher, looked out of the windows. His eyes widened even more, coz even the face looks familiar. How could it be?

“What are you staring at?” – familiar sound of his friend jolted him back to reality, as he questioningly pointed with his eyes at the window. “It’s not who you are thinking. Its her daughter. She moved back here with her daughter after her husband died a couple of years back.”

A lump forced its way through his throat, as he stole a last look at the figure in the window. He understood, Golf Green has also aged along with him, may be a bit faster. It’s difficult to go back and better to seek the the past in its new appearance.

And then the raindrops greeted him!

 

Shoe

As the years pass by and you grow
Shoes on your feet also do so
The size stops getting bigger after a while
The weight in it keep swelling though

The weight that piles is not mine
Some are moments, bitter and fine,
Some are those, who made me cry n smile
Still you gotta keep walking, rain or shine

The shoes on my feet is not clean
Off the road oft, I have been
To meet the wild pansy and brook in exile
Soaked it in the puddle and rubbed on some green

Time keeps showing who’s the real boss
Soon your old man’s shoes are now yours
Not an easy job, but keep loving the miles
My Shoe – I love you, together we’ll soar!

The Other Birthday!

I checked my watch as I scrambled out of my cabin. I am late, the kids are back at home, hungry. Given the option I would have loved to stay back at home. But to raise two kids, the second income is a necessity. And obviously, I don’t want to go back into the vortex of self-pity driven depression, by sitting idle at home.

Rushing towards the exit, I noticed the rain outside. Cursing my luck, I rummaged my tote bag for the umbrella, as I stepped out in the rain. I knew it’s not there. The morning never gave any hint of rain. I ran across the road to the other side, hoping to catch an auto quickly. But as usual they all vanished the moment the raindrops hit the ground. I stood at the entrance of the café, the rain splattered eyeglasses making it even more difficult to spot any vacant incoming auto.

Looking at the dark clouds overhead, I cursed them, I hate rain – I hate dark clouds. Or do I? They used to be my closest ally – when did I start hating them? In a flash, I went back eight years and saw a female in a hospital bed. It was me, trying to get back to life after the futile suicide attempt. And I remembered him, the rain-maker! He came into my life, just to show me the life I had.

All I saw in him was a desperate guy, head over heels in love with a middle-aged married woman; surely it was hunger. But I also felt the desperation, was slipping out of marriage. So I did what was best for both. And just like he came, he was gone; in a flash! It was me who drove him out.

I trail of though was abruptly broken as I felt the raindrops stopped falling on me. Someone has opened an umbrella for me. Startled, I looked back to find his eagle eyes looking back; still the same, piercing look that sees through your soul.

“You? Here? When did you come to town?”

“I came here to wish you ‘Happy Birthday’!”

“My birthday is 3 months later.”

“No, the second birthday you had. I come every year, sitting here, in this café to wish you on this day.”

Before I could reply, he signaled a vacant auto, and led me to it. I scampered in and told the driver the destination. While I settled down in the seat, alone, the enormity of what just happened hit me. It was today, eight years back, I was in the hospital bed, fighting for a new life. Did he really come to the city on this day for all these years?

I poke my head out to find him. He was walking down the footpath, hands in pocket, umbrella tucked in his backpack, soaking in the rain, looking at my receding auto, a hint of smile hanging at the corner of his lips. That’s when I knew for sure, he, my rain-maker really loved me.

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Wrote for an online competition after ages – since it didn’t get any response – thought of publishing it here and see what my regular readers say about it !

 

2nd Place on “Thinkerbeat Spinners Awards”

It might be small but definitely not insignificant for me. Winning the 2nd Place in the “Thinkerbeat Spinners Awards” definitely gave me joy! That’s my first International Award of any sort. And knowing that its been judged by three people who I never knew, means they were unbiased.

As per Daniel from Thinkerbeat – “Both your song and the first place song were excellent and the judges had a hard time deciding. I think the first place lyrics won because they fit more with a pop melody than yours do, but both would make great songs! Thanks. I will send the money soon.”

My entry for the competition is here:

Boatman’s Tune

Misty eyes of my girl peek from the cloud,
She never griped yet hunger cried aloud,
And I row out the waves, away from the crowd;
But I won’t sing the boatman’s tune –
Coz its home my home where lies my fortune!

Wiry arms and blistered hands,
Ample catches shifts to barren sands,
God must be at distant lands;
But I won’t sing the boatman’s tune-
Coz its home my home where lies my fortune!

I scour the surf from noon to moon,
Her misty eyes are my bane and boon.
I won’t sing the boatman’s tune –
Coz its home my home where lies my fortune!

 

Dew Drop : Friday Fictioneers 22 may 2015

PHOTO PROMPT – © Santoshwriter

As she sipped her coffee, he carefully combed and braided her silken strands.
“No-one ever pampered me like this, physically or emotionally; not even my husband of ten years.”
“You call this pampering? For me it’s just love, and this is the only way I know to love.”
“I envy the person who gets to marry you.”
“Who stops you from being that person?”

It’s been eight years since. Just like a morning dew drop he appeared in her life, moistened the sun burned path, taught her how to live and love and vanished like the dew drop vanishes with the rising day light.

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Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by ever smiling Rochelle. This week mush overcame my mind !

Rest of the fictions are at the froggy link:

Gold’s Guard : Friday Fictioneers 01 may, 2015

PHOTO PROMPT – © Dee Lovering

Queen Maria surveyed the nearly finished Customs House, and looked at architect Pere Garcia.

“That’s quite beautiful Garcia; you have planned for almost everything except the gold we collect. That much gold is surely going to attract the raiders”

“We have planned for it my majesty.” fellow architect Sagner informed. “I have a Greek Trader bring in a special live cargo from India.” He presented a scroll with the Cargo details.

Queen Maria scanned the document and smiled.

Soon workers and visitors of Barcelona Customs House got used to the occasional screech and whiffs from the wings of four pairs of Gryphons protecting all the gold.

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The pic in the prompts said its from Barcelona. And what caught my eye was the memorial to Columbus and the Griffins / Gryphons on the top of the building at the left hand corner. I googled, and then took a tour of the area by Google Street View and found that the building is the old customs house build in 1895 by Sagner. And voila !

This is for Friday Fictioneers hosted by tireless host Rochelle and the rest of the fictions are at the froggy ink below:

Druks : Friday Fictioneers 24 April 2015

PHOTO PROMPT – © Douglas M. MacIlroy

“Sire, Moriyan invaders have already breached southern border, we need the Druks fast”, pleaded the worried general.

King Gyalpo has his eyes fixed at the series of buildings standing in the snow covered valley. In his usual calm voice he asks, “How much longer Magister?”

“Not much O-Savior! We are waiting for the dawn” confirms his magister.

The red-golden rays of the spring new-moon day move swiftly across the snow and touch the buildings one by one. The domes crack, breaking down the egg shells the new generation of Druks spring to life.

Now the Moriyan invaders have to face the wrath of the Druk Yul’s thunder dragons.

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Bhutan – our neighbor is one of only a few countries which have been independent throughout their history, never conquered, occupied, or governed by an outside power. They are also known as Druk Yul  – “Land of Druk”, and in native language Dzongkha – Druk is “Thunder Dragon” their protectors.

– Rest of the FF’s hosted by Rochelle are at the froggy link below:

The Bridge : : Friday Fictioneers 13 march 2015

Friday Fictioneer 15 march 2015

Ten years were long enough to change the look of the city. Some of the buildings still survived. Of course this coffee shop overlooking the entrance of the office building across the street was not there.

Sipping his espresso, he kept looking at the entrance, hoping to catch a glimpse; he knew she still works there. His mind oscillating between conscious and subconscious, past and present – voices, pictures and smell.

Smell? That perfume seems familiar –

“I knew I will catch you here someday – not fond of burning bridges – right?” Startled, he turns to catch her standing behind, with that familiar stare.

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The second story this week – which I wrote first, for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle !

 

Sao Feng’s Treasure : Friday Fictioneers – 28 March 2014

Copyright-John Nixon

“Perfect Josh, hold it still.”

“Pete, you were right!” Sean screamed. “Two mirrored staffs in the mangrove; Jack Sparrow’s map was right; they point there on sea.”

“Sao Feng’s treasure” Josh could barely hold his excitement. “Dive Pete, find what’s below! We have beaten ‘Curse of Calypso’.”

“Yup! All alive and about to be rich”, Pete screamed and ran to take the dive.

After an agonizing wait – Pete came up, Sao Feng’s gold dagger in his fist.

“Sean, where’s Josh?”

“Dunno Pete, my eyes were fixed on the pointer. Josh was behind!” Sean’s voice trembled.

Calypso? Or 2 shares are better than…

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100 word Flash Fiction written for Friday Fictioneers challenge dated 28 March 2014. It’s a weekly challenge organized by Rochelle Wisoff.

You can see the other Fictioneer’s take from the froggy link below –

 

A Mess Called India

Even since AAP came into existence and especially after it’s historic win and meteoric rise to power, I have been listening people and their aspirations. As if they have voted in power some Messiahs who will do magic and turn India into US or London, while they keep on with their usual life; “Usual Life” – with all its mess and madness. We still remain the same; same uncivil, intolerant, insensitive near barbarians who let others rule us. Yet we are not ready to accept that the mess we are in is not become of politicians, Babu’s or police – as they are also part of the same society that we have made. To put in short – will AAP coming to power make us not break the queue? Will the AAP government stop us from crossing the road on foot from wherever we want and not using the over-bridge or underpass? Will AK come down and see that all cars are not driving with “High Beams” and breakings lanes in the madness of going ahead of everyone? Will AAP ministers see that we care for elders and women in busses and metros by giving them our seat? I have serious doubt.

We will keep doing all the things wrong with the “excuse” that everyone does it. We will complain that the roads are dirty; but won’t think that it is dirty not because someone failed to clean it, but because someone dirtied it in the first place. We will keep throwing our extra food in the waste bin, and complain that so many people go hungry every day.  We will keep killing the female foetuses and glorify the male child, and then cry hoarse that our society – law and police are insensitive to females. For every law mad to help us or get us a better life, we will try to first find a loophole in it to bypass or exploit it.

All these because, we have degraded as a society. We have lost our sense of dignity and morale. We have lost the sense of right and wrong. If something we see others doing, we get encouraged in doing the same, irrespective of our own senses telling us that it is wrong to do so. If something does not affect us directly, we will always turn away saying that not my responsibility. If we find something affecting us is wrong we will always put the blame on “someone else”.

One AK or even a AAP can’t change anything, unless we start accepting our own faults. The goal needs to be accepting our faults, analyze where we have done wrong and then change it. But for now at least we can start by owning our own faults. We need to remember  – “you cannot change anyone else but yourself”. So to change this society, country and life we live, we need to change ourselves. These changes in us will help motivate our kids to change themselves. And it is our only hope for a better future for all of us. Till then we can only vote – hope and denounce governments after governments.

Happy Friendship Day

Friends

“Don’t be dismayed at good-byes.
A farewell is necessary before you can meet again.
And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes,
is certain for those who are friends.”

~ Richard Bach

Just another mark…

End of another year. Usually I have stopped taking notice of year ends. In the endless flow of time, end of a year is just another man-made marker. That too depending on which calendar we choose to follow. It’s just because the Gregorian calendar is being followed by the largest percentage of this planet, this has acquired added significance. Yet on days like these, sometimes, the mind tries to take a break and ponder on the days that went by.

And this is the very reason why I avoid thinking about the yearly round-up – it makes me travel back. And most of the times than not, it becomes difficult to stop within the desired distance. And while counting my blessings and all that I got, it’s also difficult not to think about what we’re lost and what could have been. There is absolutely no doubt that this past twelve months has showered countless rewards. Have received joys for which I have waited all my life. Joy of togetherness, joy of unconditional love, hugs when I needed them badly and also when I never expected. The 31,622,400 seconds were filled with reasons to thank the almighty for finally listening to me. Yet… yes the crazy heart still says yet.

For a person who years to do so much and more, not being able to be allowed to do as per my capability, for reasons beyond my control is unthinkably frustrating. Though this is not the first time I have experienced this. And all those time, I had directed my energy and thoughts to somewhere else. At time they fetched good results and also at times they had devastating consequences. So this time – I tried to rein in the wanton mind. Slowly tried to soothe it and made it fall in line. The Bohemian was domesticated; with obvious fall outs. Time and again it tries to break the shackles and run away.

Luckily, after a long hiatus, the words finally decided to march back. They arrive the moment a domesticated sheep breaks the shackles and decides to become the blue songbird. It sings his heart out –

Some answers still waiting
For their questions
Some stares still waiting
For their smiles
Some silence still waiting
For their sighs
Behind the veil of morning fog
Lost as nameless star in moonlit night
And mid-summer shadow of flying bird
Some void still waits
For eternity
Some Answer still waiting
For their questions

It’s not easy to swim across the tide. But then that is something I always knew. Still the renegade sometimes gets tired. And these are the time when looking at the pale tired full moon peeking out of a piece of cloud, he sighs. The melancholy takes over, and droplets of fire rolls down the cheek, unnoticed. He keeps pushing the rewind and play buttons, hoping to hear some quickly fading lost words. A waft of breeze sweeps past his forlorn face, nudges it back to reality. Soon he is happy to lose himself in the cacophony of life, grinning and enjoying the world dancing around and telling him how lucky he is.

Lucky indeed, to have someone promising to be a journey-mate, an equal among the herd of sheep, helping me paint my canvas with my rainbow. It’s just that the Gypsy heart keeps bolting to places which world only looks with a frown. Yet I live, I love, I laugh and wait for the world to become Gypsy with me.

 

Something I wrote years back – thought about sharing it again !!

Abode of Horus

It was an unusually sultry Saturday night. He went to sleep late, after spending the hours in front of the two screens – TV and his laptop. He thought he would be oblivious to the proceeding of the night. But he woke up, with perspiration dotting his forehead, the throat dry and an unusual emptiness inside. Hand went out; in the darkness of the room he searched for the bottle. With a thud it announced that it has been displaced by the seeking hand. He scampered to rescue it, salvaged the water, and tried to moisten the parched throats. The last drop dropped inside; even after emptying the entire bottle the innards were still as dry. Is it the end?

 

He stood up, with one half of his soul still enslaved by the sleep dragon, he moved with unsettled rhythm. Reaching the cabinet his half dead hands opened the…

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Shamed… Now what?

 Shamed 

So the entire nation along with the capital city is up in arms. Seems like finally it has crossed the tipping point and the nation has started moving towards some activity. I sincerely hope that this time it’s just not show of anger against the perpetrators and solidarity with the victim for a few days but eagerness to finally ensure some solution. But every time I look at the news coverage or read it on the paper, somehow am unable to withhold my emotions. Unknowingly a few droplets find their way out of my eyes. The heart has gone numb. Couldn’t write or think of anything else.

As usual when I started looking at the views from fellow countrymen, and sadly it was again the same old rant. Some were angry on the government and its mechanism, some blamed the political parties , some religions, regions and some as usual the females themselves. Yet no one actually had a concrete solution. Made me wonder that isn’t this same anger behind all the crimes against the fairer sex? So what is the solution? My mind was just unable to accept that any of these so-called solutions will just wave a magic wand and all the trouble for the females would go.

In my heart, as usual, I believed that it needs a long-term approach. I believed that we need to change the mindset. We as a nation need to believe that both the sexes are equal and need to be treated as equal. And the solution needs to start at home. Each one of us needs to teach our next generation how to behave with the females. Then I came across several write-ups, such as the one by IHM, at Hindu, by Shilpa and Anand. And could not but agree with them. The chain of thought was quite similar to mine. But still it was either anger or a long-term solution.  So does that mean that the millennia’s of social injustice cannot be changed in one generation or a decade for that matter? What till then? Will 50% of our nation keep suffering? And what happens if some of our present generation fails to teach the next generation? Do we have to only wait till the system AND the mindset change – and pray that it changes fast? Can’t we do anything ourselves?

The mind kept roaming – the anguish of helplessness made my shoulder blades stiffen. With all my pride of coming up with a solution for so many issues faced by people, where is the solution now? And to find out how other countries are addressing the issue – I was more surprised than ever. It’s not India alone. The “Violence Against Women” is a global phenomena. Whether it is Somalia or USA, Bolivia or Australia, it’s the same grim picture everywhere. The picture looks a bit better in China but whether it is an actual picture or due to lack of genuine data available was not clear. Well France, Spain and couple of other European countries seemed a bit better. The data for Sweden, Germany or Australia might look a bit skewed because of how they define “Rape”. But then that’s how it is in those countries. They ARE more sensitive to it because that’s what their society demands. Yet it was amply clear that it was not a National issue. I was very clear in my mind that it was not the system, not the political class, or regions, education, wealth – its plain simple male arrogance hit hard by female advancement. The oppressed class is coming out of their veil and men can’t take it anymore. They are becoming more and more brazen day by day. And it is getting aided by low conviction rate and social apathy.

Then it stuck – and the bleak ray of idea kept circling in my head. And when I read last morning the 6 Point Action Plan that TOI came out with, my smile was just a teeny bit wider. Of course all that it says, such as awareness of people and sensitization of policemen is required. But they will only give you results in long-term.  Sometime back a few incidents of eve-teasing on metro created quite a flutter, and a number of groups came forward to help with their action. Add to that a few technical apps such as Cell Phone tracker apps, sms message sender and cheap web cams. So the idea is to create a group of “Citizen For Women’s Safety”. Then these volunteers will:

1. Register their Mobile numbers and location
2. Help seekers call the registered distress number
3. The Software locates caller location, and alerts all the members available nearest to it
4. Volunteers rush to be available in numbers to help the help seekers
5. The software also alerts police as an additional measure
6. As an additional coverage, put as many web cams as possible on your home (that are near main roads and crossings) facing the street.
7. The central server keeps record of all camera’s for a fixed number of days, to refer back if required.
8. Activities of offenders recorded on web cams or mobile phones gets uploaded on the web site
9. Any offender if identified and implicated by multiple person goes up on “Board of Shame”
10. Tag these offenders socially

I know whenever there is a new initiative, there will be a lot of detractors and Nay Sayers. And on the other hand there will be a handful who might get wrongly implicated. But as male (who has firsthand experience of this kind of wrongful implicated, yet) I would say I am ready to be one those handful people who might get wrongly implicated to ensure that a much larger females might get benefited  Till such time that we have enough number of Police on street, helpful and effective, we can try to aid the system instead just being angry and blaming everyone.

What I am suggesting is just an idea that I wanted to share – and will try to see if I can reach mass and get support to put in place. Alternatively even if someone else gets the vibe and creates an even better idea and puts it forward before me – that will be even better. I simply don’t want to be “just angry” and continue the blame game!!

This post is part of the contest Who is to be blamed? on WriteUpCafe.com

Maran Baarini

About 100 years back, Bipin Bihari Chatterjee got a message in his dream; following it she rescued an idol buried under about 10 feet of mud and cow dung in a neighborhood cow shed. Bipin Bihari took home the Dakshina Kalika idol and started worshiping her as “Maran Barini” – one who rescues from death. She was later identified as one of the 108 such idols distributed by Rani Rashmoni of Dakshineswar to 108 brahmins, dating her somewhere in mid 1800.

Over the generations, she is worshiped by the family till date and loved as one of the family. This year was not an exception. The family got together to worship her and seek her blessings.

Maa This Year

And with this a small piece of translation by Devdutt Patnaik I loved about Kali –

Shiva And Shakti

They say that Shiva never spoke a single word until Shakti came into his life as Parvati. She became not only his wife, but also his student, asking questions, discussing and deliberating with him, till he revealed the mysteries of life. So, one day, she asked him, “What is love?” All he did then was look at her and smile. “Tell me, please, what is love?” she asked, turning away to hide her blush. This is what he said: “When you come to me as Annapoorna, the goddess of food, and feed me and ask for nothing in return, I feel love, for you have taken care of my hunger unconditionally. When you come to me as Kamakhya, the goddess of pleasure, and hold me intimately as no one does, I feel love, for you have made me the object of your desire. This is bhog. This is one kind of love. But there is another kind of love.

“When you come to me as Gauri, demure and delicate, and allow me to dominate you, demand things of you, take you for granted, knowing full well that you cannot be dominated by anyone, I feel love. You made me play dice, laugh at the simple pleasure of games. You made me make you dolls and enjoy entertaining you. When you come to me as Durga, bearing weapons in your hand, and protect me, I feel secure and safe, and cared for, I also feel love. This is shakti, this is power. By granting me power over you, by defending me, protecting me, empowering me, you make me feel loved. This is the second kind of love. But there is yet another kind of love.

“When you dance atop me as Kali, naked with hair unbound, unafraid to be yourself, unafraid to be powerful and vulnerable and unafraid of being judged and mocked, I feel love. You make me open my eyes. I realise Lalita, the beautiful one, who is also Bhairavi, the fearsome one. I realise Mangala, the auspicious one, is also Chandika, the violent one. I see you totally, without judgement, and I realise I am capable of seeing the truth. That you allow me to see you fully, without judgement, tells me that I have become trustworthy. Thus you become the mirror, the Parvati darpan, that reflects who I am. You help me discover myself. You become my Saraswati. You reveal the true meaning of darshan. In joy, I dance. I become Nataraja.”

–http://www.speakingtree.in/spiritual-articles/faith-and-rituals/kali-as-krishna#commentlist

 

Shubha Sharadiya

Happy Durga Puja

Love for Design

The love for designing and creativity was always there; the opportunity to work for a newsletter gave me the perfect opportunity to hone my skills and express my ideas. Over the last 21 months, it was a journey that I enjoyed thoroughly. Building the cover page designs to a related theme for the month has been both challenging and fulfilling; especially when it got the due appreciation. I must admit, that many of the ideas were inspired by some theme or other seen on the web, yet most of them are original creation. I also must admit that though I have put heaps of thinking behind most of these, some of them were made with very little time, and was not very happy with the outcome, yet was surprised to see the positive response it got from the audience.

The journey started with the inaugural Jan 2011 issue with the theme “Enlightenment”

First Cover Design

The very abstract first cover was received with mix reactions, prompting me to shift a bit more to realism, and the next one was an urbane effort –

The 2nd Cover made

This was much more retro, and saw people liking it more than the last one. And then came the month of March with festival of Holi. My license to experiment with color. Also keeping in mind that people start questioning “who is that” – the moment I use some human form. At least editorial team liked the design. They chose from a possible 3 versions.

Celebrating Holi

New month and a new challenge. By this time I had really started enjoying experimenting on Photoshop. Also wanted to celebrate the Indian new year; so brought together all of them to celebrate Indianism in April.

Indian New Year

Month of May was sizzling – and people were dreaming for cool dips. So planned to dip all of em in watery dream in May – not to much of jugglery here. Just a bit of trick to put the 3D letters in Water.

Watery Coolness to Beat the Heat

Heat was still searing the region. Other regions were expecting or were submerged in Monsoon. But no respite here. But wanted people to have some hope. So mixed em. Not too much experiment again. Too much lack of time in this one.

Hope under the Sun

Finally the rain gods were smiling. And as usual it brought cheer to my heart. Full in Experiment mode. Wanted to create water-color effect on Photoshop. Tried doing something new and romantic –

Rain Clouds in Watercolor

Month of Independence day and rain was in full swing. Wanted to make a simple statement. This one was not that much on Photoshop or design, but more on creativity. And quite some people placed this one as one of the best designs.

Indian Independence Day

In September mood again went on Photoshop creativity. Wanted to get Oil Pain effect this time. And theme was Ganesh Puja. Couple of simple images related to Ganesh Chaturthi in Mumbai and sea and the Photoshop CS3 effect did the rest.

The Oil Paint Effect in Photoshop

October brought in two of the most important festivals in India. As a Bong, wanted both Durga and Kali to come in. Yet had to keep in mind the major audience of Northern India and their Diwali. Gave it as ethnic look as possible, along with a Indianized font to go with it. And this time had to use plain simple drawing skills to make half of Durga’s face turn into Kali. This one is one my most favorite work.

Durga – Kali and Diwali

One of the Editorial board members came to me while I was planning what to put in November. Told me in continuation with last months festive focus, why not Guruparv this time. And i was thinking about Eid. So voila –  a combination once again. Amazingly this came out better than I had in mind. And the simple work in Photoshop gave me immense joy.

Eid and Guruparv

Was nearing the end of the year. Some people suggested a collage of all the 11 covers so far. But the collage was already tried in one of the events. And Was not quite enamored by what was coming out. So went back to tried and tested. Christmas season ! And people liked it !!

Christmas & Santa !

There were 5 different versions for Decembers cover. And had to make 4 of them for Jan 12. Though people were rooting for another of the four, I preferred this one for its sheer ingenuity. And yes – this was a pure inspiration from net. Added some touch of my own and finally the collage all were looking for.

Happy 2012 !

There was huge workload and very little time in hand. Some were asking to give a touch for Valentines day. With huge population of young employees around, had to give in to their feeling – albeit in a subtle way. This was again pure Photoshop work.

Celebrating Valentines

Once again comes the month of Holi – but this time had to make it somewhat different from last year. Yet with no time went into a shell of blocked ideas. This was the best I could come out with. Lots of Photoshop jugglery – some people liked, but not too many.

Holi in Photoshop

Was in transition in personal life, very little time to either think or design. One of the poor work in my opinion. Was glad that at least some people were able to visualize the heat I wanted to depict in it.

Phtoshop and me

The Writer’s (read – “Designer’s) Block continued. This was one my poorest work as per me. So don’t wanna talk much about it.

Submerged

Was turning in poor work for two consecutive months. Was desperate to do something good. This was inspired by a UK painter’s work. Really liked her style. Used by thought and her style to finally turn in something refreshing after months.

Bright n Sunny

Work pressure and time got good of me again. All the work to bring in the Olympic figure were proving to be too childish to me. So had to settle for the least bad of them all.

Rainy Road to Olympic

Issues of “Crime Against Women” were engulfing the social and news media. It was painful to me. And convince the Editorial board to share the same pain with everyone in the month of Independence. Original visualization and just a bit of Photoshop skill –

Shame and Pain

Engineer’s day was the focus. Spent quite a bit of time. Maybe just because of that was not sure if this one was going to be liked by people. But was joyfully amazed by the number of people who appreciated this design. Lots of Photoshop skills and visualization !

Engineer’s Day

So with 21 designs in 21 months, when I look back, I surely feel satisfaction to quite some extent on the work I have done. Some pride yet lots of yearning to do  quite some more.

Knowing others like your work is one of the key drivers that drives guys like me. Hope to continue doing it –