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walking down life's path

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The path I was on, lay long and straight as I quickened my steps pulled by forces unseen...... up ahead could be seen a few shadows..... I hastened to join them feeling the loneliness press in .... the encroaching mist covered the road.... voices reached out like alluring hands guiding me to the unknown.... icy fingers walked up my spine as I stood irresolute.... which path do I choose ? Faltering steps came to a halt as wisps of uncertainty clouded my vision .... I looked on back and saw the curves, bends and breaks in the path I had traversed....when did I cross it , how did I miss out on the bright sunshine.... the many hued flowers I had trod in my anxiety to get where I am now.....I saw clearly the joy and beauty I missed in my haste to travail the path.... lying scattered in my wake were the things that made me... me!!! My success, failures, joy and sorrow were the crutches I now held in my hands....when did I pick that up.... when did it become a part of me.... ? Answers there w...
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Seasons

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Birth is the advent of spring, as a new life erupts, poking green shoots out towards sunshine. Roots form to anchor life. Tiny new leaves herald first steps. Childhood characterized by ones growth into a sapling. The environment dictates what the sapling will turn into. A strong tree or an emancipated shrub Fall Leaves Photo fade Mirror no image 
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Commute

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Driving down the rain soaked road, pounded by the rain, my daily commute to work was only different in the sense of being inundated in the downpour. The same mind numbing, auto pilot drive where you reach your destination with no clue as to how you got from point a to b. The car ahead hydroplanes and instinct takes over as my foot slams on the brakes, hands tighten on the wheel and eyes frantically scan for other cars on the road. The center lane beckons and as I steer in I see the skidding car finally manage to get back under control. Time elapsed, maybe a few seconds! my heart is clanging like cymbals, my hands are clammy and I can feel the adrenaline rush. More conscious of the world around me, I sit up straighter and drive on, I see my life flashing before my eyes, who said it happens during the scare, there is no time for those kinds of shenanigans, all you can do is react, fight or flight.               ...
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Son

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What are Little Boys made of  What are little boys made of? Snips and snails, and puppy dogs tails That's what little boys are made of !"  Becoming a mother is a bewildering and wondrous experience . It depends on factors ranging from  the amount of sleep one managed to get, to if we are actually able to get baby to have a nap. The first experience at motherhood had panic and terror interspersed with wonder. The second time around was definitely more wonder and less visions of doom and gloom.  The old nursery rhyme definitely described Kaustub. The little one with the smirk captured for infinity in our family pictures. How does one describe this conundrum . He has yet to meet a stranger but can be as prickly as a cactus with friends . He is the true opposite of his sister. An early to bed, early to rise baby born into a family set on a late schedule. 5:00 am wake up call of gurgles,7:30 pm rain or shine saw him drop into deep s...
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Daughter

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The day Kasturi was born dawned overcast and wet with unseasonal Showers. The landscape of Agra  washed by  rain  shone like a newly minted coin in the weak morning sunlight. The hospital resurrected from an old haveli still had a few of its old features intact just in case the owners had a change of mind. But I was blind to all these wonders as I waddled to the operating room / kitchen. The connotations of having a baby in the kitchen were mind boggling, what better place for boiling water as one sees in old movies. The door to the operation theatre was held open for me by a very courteous “jhaduwala”(Janitor). How did I figure out his occupation you ask? Simply by the tools of his trade he carried around with him. We walk into the cavernous room lit by the lights over the operating table which did little to dispel the darkness in the room. I got my daily exercise quota just walking to the table. Awaiting me there were the 4 people entrusted with the responsibility of br...
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Oh yuva yuva !

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Eternal youth and invincibility were the mantra of my teen years. Reality intruded but briefly and usually struck pretty hard. But the lessons learned were soon forgotten, else what excuse did we have for getting into situations created by oneself. I suffer from acrophobia, put in layman's terms simply means fear of heights. Lofty name for a lying low problem one thinks. Knowledge being power one would suppose it would keep the persons feet on Terra firma, but youth is its own misdirection. That's how I found myself a few feet from the ground hanging on for dear life to a rock face. If my feet hadn't been required to maintain my precarious position I would have been tempted to give myself a swift kick to knock some sense into a dense brain. Finger nails that I grew, nurtured and kept painted was disposed of without much ado, after all the visual of a body cast was enough to make manicure a last priority. So there I was halfway up a rock biting my nails. Bad manners, bad sit...
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Gypsies Trek

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Lying on the hard unrelenting railway platform the cold wind pierced my skin finding its way through the gaps in the newspaper I used as scant covering. Goosebumps jumped up as I tried to get warm. Tired eyes scanned the horizon waiting for the whisper of dawn. My ears were hoping to hear the welcome sound of the train wheels grinding out its litany on the tracks, signaling an end to this terrible wait. Beside me lay my friends in the same predicament but putting on a brave face. After all we had made the choice. Whom else could we blame? The welcome sound of the arrival of the first train cut through the chattering of our teeth. Slowly we rise to our feet and board. The cessation of wind raises a ray of hope. Maybe we may yet see this day out. The journey continues in a ramshackle bus filled to the brim with travelers and livestock of every description. The ride finishes when we run out of road. Coughing in the dust of the departing miracle on wheels, we gather our belongings to conti...
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Thoughts

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a blank screen mocked my attempts to write .. brought a pathos never felt before ... words faded out of recognition .. thoughts scattered out into the winds .. dark clouds outside my window pushed in my darkening thoughts .. looked at all the mails flying around in surprise ... felt like a stranger looking into a lit window .. watching the festivities .. so near yet so far ... a sense of belonging .. I could not grasp ... felt the loneliness press in on me ... thoughts so gloomy .. my eyes could not see ... misplaced my sense of reality .... a candle flame fluttering in a storm ...
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gypsies

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once upon a time .......there were a group of friends ... as they became better acquainted , they decided to give themselves a name to set themselves apart from all those vague friendship circles you find around ... they hit upon a name best suited to their interest ...... and thus was born the "Gypsies".. a more fun loving .. living life to its fullest band of people you wouldn't find around ... chirag leke dhundne par bhi nahi (now don't ask yeh chirag kaun hai ... bhavana ko samjo .....(down boys this is not some gal we know ). well time passed like it always does ... days filled with fun frolic and laughter changed like the seasons ... days turned into months and months into years ... responsibility and other interests slowly crept in and took over all the space once reserved for this very special group . ... a few hardy souls tried to keep the tiny flame from flickering out but winds of time were too strong ... in the scattering pages of memories I tried to g...
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friend

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How important is friendship we ask ourselves. the answer is quite simple for one who has no friends - not very important they would say, after all you cannot miss something you have never had. But ask someone who has lost a friend and you would hear an entirely different story. The beauty of this relationship lies in the fact that it matters not if you are in touch or not, the connection once forged stays on. In all my thoughts of friends and friendships.... the one dearest are the thoughts of you my best friend ....who laughed and cried with me ... the one who frowned when all others egged me on in my trivial pursuits ... you heaved a sigh of relief and shook your head in wonder at another stunt I survived ..... smiled at my success and shared their own ...saw through my laughter to the tears beneath... you let me in on your sorrow, and let me wipe your tears... opened up your heart and let me in ... stayed by me when all else seemed lost .... was a rock to my turbulent emotions...
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