Reflections - A Journey Through Life

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...

It glided like a ship sailing on a calm sea… Though for work and non-work I use commonly available pens, I still am a confirmed fountain-pen person. At home I keep even now a fountain pen which is not very costly but writes well. It gives me a special pleasure when the inked letters flow out of the tip of the nib joining into words and coming together to portray what I think. Perhaps while writing with my fountain pen, the writing itself changes, becomes more alive with fresh ideas, may be because of the pleasurable state of mind; innovation comes forth and takes shape on the blank paper. After more than five decades on this still beautiful earth, in the company of people, trying to communicate and failing many times, I now understand to some extent the challenge of communication. I think, form the words in my mind approximating my thought and speak out the words adding intonations on the way. But the words never could express exactly my thoughts. My friend or foe or casual ...

Which beauty would you see? Men look at women. Being a man I know that. For the same reason, I do not know so conclusively whether women also look at men the same way. By logical deduction, I am sure that women do look at men, but I am not sure about the manner in which they do. Amongst faces in the crowd my eyes automatically search for a beautiful one. If there is one, it shines like a brightly lit lamp amongst so many unlit dark lamps around. Yes, to many of us beauty is embodied in women. To us men at least. I do not really know whether women also find other women beautiful. And there is no practical reason why they should. I have my own definition of beauty built bit by bit over so many decades. By what? Apart from the inherent subjective element, it certainly is the society around me that shaped the definition of beauty in me. Oh yes, perception of human beauty is subjective. Definition of beauty for an African man will certainly be different from that of an English ...