Reflections - A Journey Through Life

A small incident at Coonoor It was an extremely tiring day since morning. We were on our way back from a very enjoyable family trip to the hills of Ooty in southern India. But on that specific day, hectic schedule, unfavourable weather and a collection of various simple worries had all piled up like additional baggage on each of our shoulders. Our two young kids were hungry, tired and feeling unwell from the twists and turns of the hill road. The thought that the grinds of our daily life would soon to start when we return home was definitely not an encouragement either. To cut a long story short, we were not in the best of our moods. We decided to stop at the Sim’s Park Botanical Garden at Coonoor hills. The plan was to relax there for a while and fill up our belly before moving on. It was noon already. A walk in Sim's Park We were walking along the garden paths, when I decided to cheer things up a bit. Taking out a small yellow ball which we had bought from a...

My charming guest It was one of those days. The sun comfortably warm, the earth fragrantly wet from a drizzle earlier during the day—I had nothing to do but bask in the sunshine. Between mellow day-dreaming and subtle time lapses I heard the sweetest whistle. I looked through the window before getting up and saw him. Outside the window, on the cloth-liner he perched, singing merrily. I smiled at him. His song felt like it was made only for my ears. He was a Magpie Robin commonly known as Doyel which is the National Bird of Bangladesh found widely on this side of the border too. He didn't fly away when he saw me—he sang on—and I stood there elated and mesmerized. My friend Doyel  (Photo courtesy – weloveourbangladesh.blogspot.com) Next day I saw him again coming through the grill and sitting on the same cloth-liner. I stood there, but he was not bothered at all by my presence. He became my charming guest. After a few days I realized that he made this service balco...

Imprisoned in limelight The jeep rumbled through the jungle, twisting and turning every now and then. The jungle was deep and it was late into the night. We sat huddled inside the covered jeep excitedly looking out through the windscreen for any chance animal. The beams of the headlight created a lane of light merging with the surrounding darkness. Tall trees with their thick foliage stood comfortably talking to each other in their own language. We were the only humans in this all-encompassing darkness. The jeep moved on with muffled roar of the engine—a cocoon of light and warmth jogging noisily without any heed to the surrounding peace. Suddenly we heard the crashing sound of a big body moving through the jungle. The driver excitedly whispered, “Look look, an elephant.” Craning my neck, I could just see the big broad posterior of an elephant vanishing away fast in the darkness. My friends sitting behind couldn’t see anything. They were a trifle disappointed. I was no ex...

If only I could fly free… Liberation or freedom? What is the difference? Which word should I be after? Struggle went with freedom, women went with liberation. And so, I chose liberation first. Soon my head filled to the brim with all the liberating efforts and movements from the dawn of civilization…who knows perhaps from before the dawn. Men suppressed women in all spheres of activity and relationships. Through ages. Women have to bear the children and make the home. All serious matters of the world are for the men to deliberate upon. Women thinkers? Not usual. Women leaders? A rarity. Even if some come up, the power brokers remain to be of the male kind. During childhood, a female belongs to her father, growing up she progresses to be the property of her husband and in advanced age she is under the care of her son. In between she bears the children with all its associated hassles, transforms the house to a home and satisfies the needs of all in the family. Oh, we hav...