It's the time to love......

Valentine's day is again round the corner, and as I was in the line collecting my tickets for the movie, the girl before me exclaimed to her friends, " Ei dekh dekh, aj propose day te ki message likheche!!" And all her friends hovered around her, over giggles and titters! The effects of our man -made Cupid- not bad really, love any day is better than war !!!
And I love love stories !
I like people who give me stories! But not the stories that we read everyday - break ups and affairs and mundane marriages. But something that happens in a tangent like the breaking-the -stereotype marriage that I attended a few months back- a young boy marrying an older girl with a son. I quite marveled at their courage and for breaking the odds and the great societal barrier!
Amrita Pritam and Sahir :) and their unfinished love story , till she met Imroz, again much younger than her !
I will meet you yet again

How and where? I know not.
Perhaps I will become a
figment of your imagination
and maybe, spreading myself
in a mysterious line
on your canvas,
I will keep gazing at you.

Perhaps I will become a ray
of sunshine, to be
embraced by your colours.
I will paint myself on your canvas
I know not how and where –
but I will meet you for sure.

Maybe I will turn into a spring,
and rub the foaming
drops of water on your body,
and rest my coolness on
your burning chest.
I know nothing else
but that this life
will walk along with me.

When the body perishes,
all perishes;
but the threads of memory
are woven with enduring specks.
I will pick these particles,
weave the threads,
and I will meet you yet again.

-Amrita Pritam.

(Translated by Nirupama Dutt and published in The Little Magazine2005)

Comments

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 , ...

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...

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