retirement benefits

I came back home to a "retired" husband ....Bhaskar retired for the second time in the 30 years that I have known him. And is in no hurry to look for something concrete to do. The languid mornings are perfect- tea with the autumn sun streaming into our room, the sparrows chirping in and around the box window and the morning papers strewn all over the bed....till my eyes fall on the clock at 8.10 and mayhem begins for me.... Of late I have been getting this feeling of quitting work. My friends say I will be bored after 4 months , my father says I will miss the paycheque and the freedom to spend at will and some of my son's friends are amazed- why quit such a "cool' job that just take you places ?

But looking at Bhaskar I feel jealous - he can read all the books he wants to read and just stay in or go out- the race is over - and it's time to relax. This time while collecting my luggage from the belt at the airport there was this couple standing next to me- the man with snow in his hair and the petite lady made a handsome couple - coming back from a holiday somewhere calling their driver to come to the gate - I just felt it is time for us to be like that- take holidays , garden a bit and take time leisurely and enjoy time and not rush with it....enjoy whatever time is left till memory takes leave and we are bound in the vacant space of infinity .....

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Morning bells are ringing ......

Heidi lived in Alps with her Alms uncle - I read this story in a book that was called The Big Big Story Book and it had a compilation of amazing stories that were my first foray into the world of English story books. Recently on a long flight I watched the movie much to delight of the young steward who was our attendant that night. My first glimpse of the Alps was from our flight ...the dawn breaking to spread the orange hues over the snowy terrain...looked mesmerizing even to someone who is not too fond of the mountains. Switzerland was beautiful, with its manicured terrain and flowers like pretty maids all in a row, picture perfect setting and breathtaking, like a touch me not porcelain beauty. Coming from my "elo melo" city I wondered how people managed to keep a country so organized , I have trouble keeping my room in ship shape...... No, I would not like to live there ......it's too distant and too cold ,but what I will carry in my heart is the awesome time .......

The road may be narrow and dark

This write up came back with a note of regret – for not being able to make to the next round in the competition, to the editor's table. Well, this is the first time I competed , that is if I do not count the House Competition essay writing, where I came second after Champa. Actually I do not why I took part – chance, curiosity or plain gambling …..because writing for me has always been a catharsis – an expression that I can share …..So no regrets , really! The road may be narrow and dark…….. It was 1983 and life with Baba always veered on the unexpected and the adventurous. Like that road trip from Kolkata to Delhi via Agra. We had this faithful Ambassador that took us on this journey with Baba at the helm and our cleaner Kalipada as his first assistant. I was the official navigator and Giri uncle, my father’s friend, in charge of our ummm, let’s say security, since me and my cousin Dimpi, both all of 18, needed an escort , officially. Baba always liked the un-tr...

A holiday with self :)

A long overdue blog about the path that I was seeking , or did the path seek me out ? Over the years the sheen of belief was wearing off and I was beginning to question the master about the magic - about faith becoming commercial, about what Bhaskar stated, "This is all about money". Packing my bags off and going solo isn't very uncommon in my life, but this time I was not on work per se. Checking-in into the Ashram, was on my bucket-list for ever-since, and it was an amazing experience. Despite the crowd, the ambiance just reverberated with a mix of reverence, energy , faith, hope, prayer - and questions too ! Like I mentioned before meditation was not about spiritual pyrotechnics, but a metaphor connected to life. Like the corner I chose had a vantage view of the stage and despite a stench that started emanating from the corner, I just could not leave that place, for the view that corner offered got me stuck there. Life is like that, we are often stuck in the rut , ...

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