Random Musings

There was a time in our twenty-odd years of marriage, when i could have a conversation with my husband, undisturbed...when i did hold his complete interest and attention! Sometimes, these discussions would be about the books we've read, movies we saw, about people and places...the general issues that most people would talk about... What has changed over the years, is this...that now, it's not just the two of us having a conversation anymore! Invariably, Google is the 'other person' in our relationship! We no longer just talk. My husband's stand on any issue is backed-up by Google, if i so much as voice any doubts about his statements! It has become his silent supporter and partner in crime. I can no longer get away with frivolous statements about anything. While earlier, i could assert myself even if i was wrong, there's no getting away so easily now...because Google knows it all, obviously! One time, i was recollecting the early years of our marria...

When i ordered Gurucharan Das' "The Difficulty of Being Good", i chose it because the title appealed to me. Nothing more.  I hadn't read any reviews, in fact i had no background on the book, at all.   It's one of the rare times, where i've bought a book just because the title sounds good.  In the past, when i've made such choices, the only good writing was in the title!  I'm not one to sit in judgement of others' works, but primarily any writing appeals to me only when i can find that connect with it. It was then, with some apprehension that i began reading the book and i'm really happy that all those misgivings and apprehensions were totally misplaced.  On so many levels that book appeals to me...that i'm going over and over some of the lines...And yes, of course, the recurring theme in the book of the difficulty of being good really resonates with me. Yes, i think it is indeed difficult being good.  I think sometimes,  people, circum...

I think it happens to many of us...the times we find that in spite of everything, there is a part of us that lingers on in places left long back.   A sense of incompleteness...a sense of something left unfinished makes us want to go back to these places, to those lives that we've left behind. It's not that we are dissatisfied with our present lives, but there seems to be a part of us, which feels 'incomplete'.  I read an article today, where Sanjay Leela Bhansali the acclaimed Bollywood director talks about how a part of his soul remains at the film institute where he could not finish his diploma film.  With seven movies to his credit, most of them critically acclaimed and commercially successful, why would a diploma film that he wasn't allowed to edit, still bother him to this day! I think it's an universal feeling, then, that a part of our soul lingers on, at places and with people where there was no closure.  For me, this feeling of missing out, would be...

The latest Google advertisement shows how two septuagenarians are re-connected thanks to the latest technology and obviously thanks to Google which helps people find what they are looking for! The ad especially appealed to me, as i often find myself in situations where i am either trying to re-establish ties or find myself pleasantly surprised by an unexpected message from an old friend. The ad got me thinking...why do we have this compelling urge to re-connect? Why do we get pulled back to re-establish ties and bonds with the people from our pasts. While i can't pinpoint on one motive that drives us...i know for sure, that the desire is definitely there in most of us. If nothing else, to atleast reach out and say a 'Hello' again...an urge to let that other person know, that despite all the time that has gone by, 'Hey, you are still on my mind!' or maybe just to convey, 'Hey, you are not forgotten yet!' Well, whatever it is that drives us, what is...

If we make our decisions with only our mind, it will always favour whatever logical argument we are presented at that point of time either in favour or against our decisions. But, when we make our important life-decisions with the heart, we rarely go wrong. As it already knows what we must do and what's best for us in the long run. And these decisions won't/can't be influenced or changed whatever the scenario. In the end, it all comes down to what we really want to do and having the courage of conviction to do it and follow it persistently! That's my conviction and belief!

For non-Delhites residing in the country's capital, this is one of the most enjoyable periods, weather-wise. Most Delhites take the vagaries of Delhi's weather in their stride and accept it with a resilience that comes from years of calling it their home. But, for the rest of us, the grouse about the place centers primarily on the almost inhospitable weather, most year-round! Come summer, Delhites go about their business in the sweltering, humid, feels-like-50 degrees- blistering heat and nonchalantly wipe the sweat off their brows. For the rest of us, the first summers can be an overwhelming-gasping-for-breath experience! The mind-numbing, bone-chilling bleak winters arrive too. When the temperatures go down to zero degrees and the wet and windy atmosphere, combined with the relentless fog and haze on most days feels dreary and depressing, to say the least! Hailing from the sunny Southern part of the country, the winters are my personal grouse! But...that is stil...

A couple of months back i had visited a Gurudwara, and the one thing that draws me back time and again to any Gurudwara is the culture of self-less service that it so proactively promotes. Anybody and everybody can volunteer to help out in any ongoing activity there. Many times i have seen people getting out of swanky cars and helping in sorting and storing footwear, washing used plates and glasses, cutting vegetables, serving water, serving food...and volunteering to do any 'menial' jobs and that too, just for the sake of service. I am no expert on the tenets of the religion, but what i take away each time i visit the place, is the simplicity and the all-encompassing spirit of service. They are selfless offerings of time, work and help without any ego and expectations. If only, we can bring that aspect of ego-less service and offer it to people around us without expectations...wouldn't that make life really worth living! Somehow, our egos and expectations al...

Our zero tolerance levels are so obvious and so apparent everywhere, that now would be a good time to step-back and self-analyze before we become so self-centered and self-obsessed that we no longer can have any meaningful relationships with anyone around us. We are so quick to pass judgement, so quick to find faults in others, so quick to make others aware of their perceived faults, and all this, to what end?! So that they may overcome them and fit into our scheme of things without any inconvenience to us! Doesn't that make us some behavioral or moral police, who are sitting in judgement of others and expect others to behave and act in a way that is right by our standards! The many problems that we face today, our intolerance, our prejudices, our expectations in matters concerning religion, gender, language are all based on that one factor, that we are right, our views, opinions and our judgements are right and everybody else needs to be the way we expect them to be. And...

A narrow ledge on the seventh floor initially seemed to me, to be too small and narrow to have any visitors of the winged kind. Used to sprawling gardens with lots of trees, the winged visitors, stray cats and the dogs, et al, were an all too common sight in our house. I will miss these visitors the most here, i thought. Oh, the pleasure of watching the winged and four legged creatures as they came calling and feeding at their whims and fancies! What a beautiful feeling it is to feel connected with Nature and all beings big and small! No such scope here, i thought...what a loss for me...If only, we could change that somehow! And for starters, i couldn't resist a small invitation, if i may call it so! A few grains of rice the first day, to see if any small birds may, may come and take a peck of. And to think, that our very first visitor was a majestic kite which came swooping down from the adjacent building to peck at the rice. This was the first time ever a kite came ca...

Owe this title, this post and a whole lot more, to my brother! Our morning text-chats about our childhood brought back a flood of beautiful memories! The simplicity of life in the 80s when we were little kids...a time, when every small thing that we did as a family was so special that it has now taken almost mythical proportions in our minds! Like two 'oldies' we were talking about our 'good old days' when we were simple, people were simple, lifestyles were simple, times were simple when everything was just plain simple! A time, when even the regular Vegetable Pulav had made our Sunday morning brunches/lunches so special! It was almost a weekly ritual to have the Veg Pulav on Sundays, and it seemed so special to us, when our parents served it with the accompanying pepper papad, pickles and onion and tomato raita...a seemingly easy menu in today's time, but the simplicity and the flavors have never got replicated to this day! The excitement of meals eaten toget...

“Words do not express thoughts very well. They always become a little different immediately after they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish.” ― Hermann Hesse “The only way you can write the truth is to assume that what you set down will never be read. Not by any other person, and not even by yourself at some later date. Otherwise you begin excusing yourself. ― Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin “The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible” ― Vladimir Nabokov “We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.” ― Anaïs Nin “Perhaps I write for no one. Perhaps for the same person children are writing for when they scrawl their names in the snow.” ― Margaret Atwood “The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them -- words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in yo...

'And in short measures life may perfect be'...What a beautiful line...what a timeless philosophy. Resonating ages later and making perfect sense even in this day and age. Isn't that how most of us lead our lives! Our lives seem perfect when measured in short bursts. There are phases, i'm sure in all our lives, when we experience that feeling of fulfillment, contentment, and that absolute sense of perfection, when we feel that 'yes, this is it!'. It is that phase when everything seems to just fall into place, like a jigsaw puzzle. That phase when our personal lives, professional lives, and all the roles that define us seem to be perfectly aligned. A phase where nothing seems to be out of place or out of sync. ...And then, again, just as seamlessly, as if moved by that invisible force called 'Time', things fall apart. Life moves on, as it does and it seems to put us back where we all began...a little out of step, a little out of sync...Like the...

Long after the page has been turned...long after the movie credits have rolled...long after the laptop has been shutdown...some lines linger on, for no apparent reason. Such is the power of the written word, i think...the words and lines...they stay on with you, they come back to you...they linger on... Some of those that have stayed with me... “Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.” ― Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca There are only two questions that human beings have ever fought over, all through history. How much do you love me? And Who's in charge?” ― Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” ― Maya Angelou “To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson “The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not...

It’s summer again, and I take my little girl’s hand and walk with a spring in my step bidding goodbye to my husband at the airport. Come summer and it’s time to take a break and go ‘home’. The first place that comes to me when I mention ‘home’ is my parents’ ‘home’ where I grew up. Even years after moving away, getting married, setting up my own place, having a child, I continue to refer to my parents’ home as my home. It came so naturally and so unconsciously to me, that I never gave it a second thought…until, that ‘revelation’ came to me, when my 8 year old daughter pointed it out. As I was packing clothes for the holiday, she asked me where we were going, and I had replied “We are going home” and she says, “But we are already at home, why are you packing?” That made me sit up and realize that I always thought of my parents’ home as my home too. I know it is one place where I can plonk myself on the bed and order my mother to make me something hot and appetizing, it’s a pla...

I was never one for pets, probably, the practicalities of bringing up a pet weighed more heavily than emotions. Also, the nomadic lifestyle we led was, I thought least conducive to bringing up a pet. But as luck would have it, we didn’t have to adopt a pet, we got adopted. It was not what we had bargained for, but that is how love enters one’s life isn’t it, when one least expects it! I can’t really recollect the day that our little kitten came into our life, it is a bit hazy. All I remember, is that one fine day, I had this little brown kitten looking with the most doleful eyes at me. How it got into my lap and how for days afterwards, she would jump up on my lap as I was reading the newspapers, is not so clear to me. But, I remember, how my routine subtly changed at first, to accommodate her in my lap and how it would cuddle and look for maternal comfort with me. Slowly but surely, she made her way into my heart, so much so that slowly my routine revolved a lot around he...

It is another routine day in the life of the man as he dons his uniform, gets ready, gears up and belts down to offer succor and support to his fellow countrymen. At the first break of dawn, as he wakes up to the call of duty, she is awake too, along with him, alongside him. As he gets out of bed, so does she. And yet, she dons no uniform, she wears no medals, no badge, no rank, no title, yet, she is the woman who is as much a part of the Services as he is. It is not her job, not her duty, nor her calling and yet she is as much a part of the Service as he is. The woman who steadfastly stands behind her man in the uniform. A woman, a lady, who knows that her love and commitment, her strength and tenacity will offer an anchoring to that man in uniform. As you watch these men in the uniform, you wonder what is it that separates them from the others…what is it that gives them the courage to lay their lives routinely on line to help others, to save others, to rescue others. With w...