Weekly Photo Challenge: Muse

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And Finally It rained…

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A Purple Affair

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Make A Wish…

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Paving The Way For A New Day…

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Don’t Take My picture Without My Permission…

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Home Is Where The Kids Are…

To me, nature is the ultimate muse… the birds perched on trees around our house, the flowers growing in our garden or the beautiful sunset as seen from our rooftop. I find nothing as beautiful and mesmerizing as nature.

Inspired by this week’s photo challenge.

Remembering Bhola…

If there is one gift that I am blessed with, it’s the ability to forget, especially those people or moments that make me sad. I have this tremendous power to isolate bad memories and keep them in a hidden corner of my brain. Those memories become alive only when I want them to, or when similar instances happen.

But today I choose to write about Bhola here, because he deserves a space in my blog, for being a child to my parents when I wasn’t there with them. Those of you who have followed me from my initial days know about him, my companion and friend, Bhola. Well, he is no longer with us. It’s been two months since he left home and never came back. He was almost five years old, and had grown old and physically weak. He had lost one leg, while fighting with a devilish cat in our neighbourhood. That cat was primarily the reason why Bhola suffered in his last days with us. Every time I see that cruel cat, my temper soar sky high and I wish to kill him. But I know that won’t bring my Bhola back.

Bhola and his different shades

Bhola and his different shades

I first saw Bhola when he was a little baby. I had come home for winter holidays and he slept  with me inside my blanket,  and the next morning I found my headphones in bits and pieces as he played with them whole night.

Baby Bhola

Baby Bhola

The only thing Bhola enjoyed eating was flour and eggs. My parents being vegetarian, he never got to eat meat, but that one time when I was home I gave him some chicken bones, and from that day he followed me everywhere I went. That one year when I was at home, he was the only one I talked to about my depression; thankfully he never gave me any advice and just looked at me with his big, thoughtful eyes. Bhola never asked my mom for food, my dad was the one responsible for that, and he never slept in my father’s room, he always liked sleeping near my mother’s pillow. Every time she hears a light sound near the window, she thinks that he has come back.2015-06-231

Bhola’s girlfriend lived across the street. The times he was with her, he would forget each one of us, and would go missing for several days. He had poor hunting skills, given the fact that he was domesticated since a young age. He once brought a live snake inside the house and freaked us all out. He was fond of killing lizards though, I guess they were the easiest prey he could feast upon.

The last time I came home in March, he had lost one of his forelimb. I pitied his helplessness and often cried seeing him like that. He got in a fight with the big cat again and injured himself…seeing him bleed, I secretly wished for him to die. I didn’t know it then, that was actually the last time I saw him. When I finally came home this time, he wasn’t there. Unlike my parents I don’t want to think that he is dead. I have read somewhere that male cats leave home when they grow old, and I sincerely hope that Bhola has somehow gone on a pilgrimage to the forests and is really happy there, enjoying all the things he couldn’t do at home. He lived a great life till the time he was here; I hope he’s honing his hunting skills now.

The Last Picture

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We miss him.

And Here I Am, Once Again

So…. it’s been a long time since I wrote anything here, and this has been my opening sentence for almost all the posts I wrote in the last two years. Well, I am back… to the place where my unemployed self belongs. It was three years ago in August when I started writing here, and found a new world. It started a journey of self discovery for me, something that changed my perspective on a lot many things. I owe a lot of what I am today to that one year when I blogged rigorously. Things haven’t changed much on the professional front except that I am a post graduate now (Mona with another useless degree) but I feel different on personal levels. Unlike my undergraduate days, I thoroughly enjoyed myself in the last two years. I made some good friends, and their support helped me to be more confident. I bunked classes, watched hundreds of movies ( Oh, I miss the free LAN), gave lots of gyaan to my friends and roommates, flirted with lots of guys, broke their heart , enjoyed parties, college fests and did all those things one associates with college life. Though most importantly, I finally realized that biotech isn’t for me and so after 7 years of studies and two degrees later I have decided to throw it all away and find a new career path. I just want to change my life for good, to be “something”, even though I don’t know what that “something” is, I have this strange kind of hope that it is possible to be “that”. So this “something” is the only constant thing that hasn’t changed in the past few years.

I know it’s been a long time since any of you heard anything from me but I hope that someone, somewhere is reading this… It would really encourage me to write more. Three years ago when I started writing here, I didn’t know that a real person would ever read any of my stuff but you guys did and it helped me a great deal in life.  I hope we all are still together in this journey… :)

Poems by Shel Silverstein

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While reading some random quotes, I accidentally discovered poems written by Shel Silverstein. Although I have an exam tomorrow, I can’t help but read the wonderful poems this man has written. Falling in love with each one…

Some of my favorite quotes…

1.“There are no happy endings.
Endings are the saddest part,
So just give me a happy middle
And a very happy start.”

2. “She had blue skin. And so did he. He kept it hid, And so did she. They searched for blue Their whole life through, Then passed right by – And never knew.”

3. “…In a world of apples and kisses and shoes
He wasted his wishes on wishing.”

4.

“I cannot go to school today,”
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
“I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I’m going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox
And there’s one more–that’s seventeen,
And don’t you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut–my eyes are blue–
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I’m sure that my left leg is broke–
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button’s caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained,
My ‘pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is–what?
What’s that? What’s that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G’bye, I’m going out to play!”
hahaha…this one particularly is really funny! We all have done this in our childhood. Haven’t we?

The Little Girl Who Has Gone Away

I didn’t know her. She was born after I left my hometown. But I knew her dad, her uncles, her cousins and everyone else in her family. I never saw her that is until I saw her pictures all over my Facebook feed: pictures of a dead girl, raped and tortured, left to die in a jungle.Her body was in the jungle for five days and no one found her… neither humans nor animals in the jungle. And that picture is engrossed in my mind since that day.

I was in the same town when I was seven: that was seventeen years ago. Seventeen…the number of years she would have lived to be my age but she didn’t. Instead, she was brutally murdered. I have no intention of glorifying the death of a little kid. All I want to do is to get these feelings out of my mind. I don’t want to imagine the seven year old me going through everything she did.

What is it that make humans turn into monsters? How psychopaths who rape kids, people who molest girls on roads, uncles who sexually harass little kids stay amongst us yet manage to hide their intentions? How do we tolerate such things? Do we think that it could never happen to us? At least I thought so, until this time. Yes, I do get affected every time I read about a rape, I discuss it with other people, I curse the criminals, talk about the inefficiency of police in our country, and in another two- four days I forget about it, until the cycle starts again with a new case. But it isn’t the same this time. Is it because she was someone I knew? Is it because I never thought that such a thing could happen in my small, peaceful town? Was I thinking that Uttarakhand being devbhoomi ( the land of the Gods) is above these things? Well, I  guess I was wrong.

If there is something that is above everything, it is evil. Sexual crimes exist every where, whether you are roaming alone in a dark street or you are inside your house. Any person, regardless of his/her age, class, caste or nationality could be a molester, a psychopath. You need not be wearing a short dress to invite unwanted attention, even 7 year olds get raped. I can never understand what goes inside the mind of a molester, what makes them do what they do? Why is it that evil prevails over sanity? I don’t know if anyone could ever answer these questions for me but I know that time and again I’ll be forced to ask these questions. And every time I’ll hear about a new case, the pictures of this girl will cross my mind taking me to the small town where I once lived safely.

Lost In Life

I have never really written regularly here ever since I joined college and its already been an year and a half. Can you believe that! Just six months left for me to leave college, be a post graduate and see the real world. I mean how the hell did it happen? Time passed in the blink of an eye…. I still remember the time I started blogging, clueless about what to do with my life, sitting at home, crying my eyes out, taking out all my frustration over here… I was 22, stupid, scared, overly emotional, a complete fool. Well, I may be stupid even now but I am a different person, may be I have grown up. I am about to be 24 in two months, many of my friends are getting married, some are pregnant and although these updates about their lives  do unnerve me, I am okay with it. I still don’t know what to do with my life, I am yet to find my passion, I suck at everything I have to do in the lab to get my degree, I keep googling the term ” how to quit college” all the time but I am okay, you know a different kind of okay. Yesterday when my dad called me ( which is a very rare thing), I literally choked up while talking to him about my life. I mean crying while talking to my dad!!! I could never have imagined that. I realized that how much ever I want to hate him, I don’t really do. That was a good realization on a bad day. And there are things like these that keep me going.

Did I tell you all that I have got some awesome friends here in college. They are like friends I used to see in movies… friends who know all about your crazy stories, about your hook ups, crushes, dirty intentions etc. I never really had a “college life” during my graduation days. Yes, I had awesome friends then too but we were all a group of innocent people, the slumdogs, the inferiors, we didn’t like the way we were. And that “me” changed when I came over to this place. From being a scared little introvert, I slowly discovered myself and started enjoying life rather than just passing it. You know I even got into a roller coaster ( OK…don’t laugh, it was a BIG thing for me). There were things that I wanted to do but never really did because, I don’t know..I was weird. I completely wasted my graduation days. I don’t know why I was so depressed all the time. I am a much happier person now. Well I am sad too, but that gloom of sadness never interferes with my happy world. To be precise, life never gets boring over here..there is always something to do, whether for fun or for majboori.

All in all, I am on a roller coaster ride my friends…up and down..up and down… and that’s how life is supposed to be, I guess. How are you going doing? Do let me know.

Unexpected Grief

When I recently gave the link of my blog to a friend of mine he was concerned to see so many sad posts in here. He wanted to know why I always write about depressing and melancholic instances of my life and not about the things that make me happy. After days and days of introspection I have realized that I am unable to write anything when I am happy. Writing is something that comes to me only when the sad realities of life weigh me down.  I write when there is no other way to relieve my pain and today is one such day when I need to blog again.

Today is the day when the evil called Cancer has struck my family. My mom called in the evening to tell me that my aunt (my father’s sister) is in the final stages of cancer. For a while I was unable to process that information. I didn’t know how to react. Cancer was something about which I had only studied in books, read in novels or watched in movies. I never thought that it could happen to someone I knew. How ignorant we humans are! No problem bothers us till our close ones face it.  What surprised me more were the tears in my eyes…unknowingly…just like that I was crying for a person I never really liked.

The moment when my mom told me that aunt doesn’t have much time to live… it was a brief moment, mere seconds passed by but a lifetime of memories flashed in my mind. My aunt ill treated my mom in the initial years of her married life. She was rude to my mom and her family members and never missed a chance to insult them. You know she was like those sister-in-laws they show in typical Indian serials. I grew up hearing all these stories and my hatred for her inflated each moment… but her pain is bothering me today. And I am more disturbed by the fact that I can feel bad for her. I don’t know…it’s so strange. I never expected this from myself. I am unable to sleep…I see her face every time I try to close my eyes.

What is it about death that bothers us so much? Why are we so scared to face that ultimate truth? Why is it that I am grieving for someone I never actually cared about?

I am disturbed. I don’t know how to explain what I am feeling right now. There is chaos… a storm in my mind and I am unable to figure out what is bothering me more: the grief or the fact that I am grieving for someone I hated all my life.

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