Reflections - A Journey Through Life

  Stepping out I stood by my open narrow window. It was raining. Rain spears falling straight to soft mother earth, to the green leaves and to the roofs of the buildings yonder. Thin spears…it was rainy season…softly falling raindrops, making the whole world seem soft wet and comfortable. Dryness is lack of life. I projected myself through the narrow window. The world outside my white-walled room was so inviting with so many colors, with fresh open air, with so many myriads of life. I longed for it. In my room I felt dried up. I felt like going out. Then I remembered my door. Oh yes, I have to go out only through doors, not through windows. Every morning I go out through my door to the fresh open air and forget the static ordinariness of the room I leave behind. While I walk, I savor the rustle of the leaves, the sweet singing of little birds and the morning sun filtering through the tall trees. I get myself detached from my routine life and immerse in the environs arou...

Would we be together? As I opened the homepage of a popular website, a photo and its headline stared at me – Hot Chemistry between Nitin and Vrinda. Ever evolving, popular websites now routinely include news as a major content to hold on to the fickle attention of surfing populace. Lazily I looked at the faces of the new stars. I am not a movie buff at all, but still I felt I had seen the names of these up and coming stars somewhere, such is the power of media! Whenever we open our eyes nowadays, we are liable to be bombarded with tidbits on celebrities. The first thing I observed in this case was the long faces – both Nitin and Vrinda had longish looking faces with intent eyes. Nothing wrong with that. All ambitious stars and starlets have such intent eyes. Not the eyes, something with the faces. I looked at the photo more closely. Then suddenly my memories came rushing in from distant past and gave a new meaning to the faces of these two young people. They looked so much a...

Faulty world As I was walking hurriedly through the milling crowd I collided with a glowing cigarette held by a casual hand. The burning tip of the cigarette broke off against my beautiful brand new black striped trousers and with a mild sadness I slowed my pace—oh my specially tailored favorite one day old trousers! Still walking I inspected the white spot on the fabric and tried to rub it off. No big success. I could see clearly the whiteness of the spot. The fabric must have been irreversibly burnt—I thought. My sadness deepened. In the midst of the jostling crowd I felt lonely—what a bad luck. My mind drooped. The bright sunshine dimmed. But I had to walk on as everybody has to. With every step now I slowly widened the focus of my mind from the single white spot on my trousers. I felt the spreading. It spread slowly all over the full length and breadth of the trousers. I thought, yes, the total area of the fabric is much larger than the spot. The size of the spot reduced. ...

A matter of mind I stopped short and looked into my mind. It was not a good sight. At best it was a tolerable chaos—boulders and potholes strewn around with a few pleasant oasis, green and cool, restoring overall peace. A noticeable path zigzagged all the way to horizon. It was not an arrow-straight metal road. Rather you can call it a wide walk made up of earthy soil. I like earth and soil. It is natural that my walk would be on a path made up of soil. Some places it had to cross barren lands and difficult obstacles. I could notice its narrow portions and also the wide stretches passing through the green patches of forests. I decided—the scene is not organized. I sat down on a boulder by the side of a river and contemplated. The first thing I noticed was the tenuous tentacles of worries and concerns reaching me from my problem areas even when cool water caressed my feet, birds sang in the forest and peace and quiet reigned. I decided—when I am in an oasis or a forest tha...

  Mingling together Tukai deserved an evening out. I gave him options— “Music World? Oxford?” “No way”, his answer was emphatic— it has to be a special dinner. He loves to eat. We call him a gourmet and an evening out with him must nothing less than be a grand dinner. I knew this but teased him a bit. “Where to go?” Quick came the reply, “Park Street.” In our city most of the good old restaurants are bunched up along this half a kilometer long strip. “So be it”, I concurred. We started walking from where Park Street begins. I told him, “We will walk slowly and look around. Whichever place takes our fancy we will step in.” It was a cool Saturday evening. At this time of the year before summer sets in, sea breeze makes the evenings very pleasant. Happily we strolled. Me talking non-stop as I do with him and he responding occasionally at right places with right sounds. We were on the left sidewalk and I knew that a few of the most desirable destinations are situated on...