Tranquility - Call of the Yonder

Tranquility: Call of the Yonder

He was there – standing – hands stretched out, palms up. The sheet of ice – like a vast ocean – was before him; the chilly wind breaking against his face. He could feel the bite at the edges of his body – at his ears, at his nose, at his arms. He could hear himself breathe – the sound, a regular rhythm. The rhythm was of water being drawn from a well, the rhythm of bells tolling in a temple, the rhythm of a hundred pipes singing elegies at a time. Sound had ceased to seem differentiated to him. He had stood where he had, to see, to smell, to feel, to hear. Yet he could do none of these. In the ocean of white ice which had mountain peaks for boundary, he could see umpteen colors – all the seven colors of the rainbow in addition to those that he could not identify. When he exhaled, the sound was reflected by the mountains. It seemed as if his offerings were returned to him – multiplied. He could hear the echo of his breath. He could feel – in fact he had wanted – the icy winds cutting at his flesh.

Yet, it was as if all these feelings did not matter to him. He was aloof. He could neither see nor hear. Neither smell nor touch.

He was dead.

Going along with the rut of his life, he was neither happy nor sad. He was living because life was there. it had to be led. He did what he did because that had to be done. He never questioned nor did he know who determined what had to be done. He did it for the sake of doing it. He did not ask. He did not know. Still, he was alive!

He was alive because he knew that he did not know. He had asked himself not to ask. He felt the absence of feelings and he could smell the absence of any odor. He just knew that he was alive.

Then, one fine morning, life ceased to be. Something seized his life-force. He knew not what. He only felt that he could no longer see what lay in front. He could no longer hear what words were uttered. Words ceased to have any meaning for him. He left life as it was! He moved away. Away from his senses; away from his sensibilities and away from his surroundings. He just moved away because he had to. It was as if he was ordained to move away from himself as he knew himself to be!

He went to a river. He started moving as the river did – only, against its flow, towards the source. He felt perfectly normal, perfectly natural, perfectly perfect, and normally natural. He did not feel the absurdity of moving against the flow. Of the river. Of the movement. Of life.

He could hear the gurgling sounds of water breaking against its banks. Huge boulders being rounded by the flow of the river. By the movement of the river over them. by the force of life. Involuntarily, he brought his hand to his head. It too felt rounded. Had he been weathered by the elements too? Or was he supposed to have a round head? He never questioned. He just moved. He crossed many streams- small and shallow. There he saw the force of water; the speed of the river, much more than that he had seen downstream. But here too, he saw the same conspicuous round-headed stones! Only here, they did not have any moss over them. Again he felt his head. No, he did have some crops of hair over his head. Because he was supposed to have that.

He moved ahead. Because he had to. To go to the source. The source of water. Of the shallow streams. Of the wide river. Of the round-headed stones. Of the gurgling sounds. Of the speed. Of the force. Of life. He just had to move ahead. As if propelled by some unseen force. As if hurled by some catapult. He felt compelled to move. Obliged to do so. To whom, he knew not. He asked not. He just moved. He could feel the movement. All around him. He was live to the changes. He could see that barring himself, everything else had changed. He could barely feel the same things that he could earlier. He did not possess the same sensibilities. His surroundings had changed. He did not have his friends with him any longer. Nor his foes. He did not have nobody with him any longer. He had himself for company. And yet, he did not feel lonely. He did not feel the need of anyone to be with him. He did not feel any need anymore. He did not feel. He was dead.

And he moved ahead. In the direction opposite to that of the river. Towards the source.

He could feel how contagious the force of the river was. The force of its movement. The force of its speed. The force of life. He could feel almost a bond of empathy, a bond of kinship, with the river. With the round-headed stones. With the gurgling sound. With the force of life. He was alive to all this and much more and yet not.

He was alive to the fact that the speed of the river upstream was increasing. Increasing phenomenally. He could sense that the vegetation that sprang at the banks of the river was becoming dense and greener. As if it was attached to a cornucopia of life-giving force. He could sense that the smell of the air had changed. It was less polluted. Less violated. More serene. So seemed the sound. Silent. Deafeningly silent. It seemed as if the whole universe was drunk on the rhythmic sounds of the river. Of its waters. Of its constant struggle with the round-headed stones! Of its struggle with its banks. Of its struggle to take anything in its wake down. Down to destruction. Down to the ocean. Down to silence. down to perpetual silence. Down to death.

He was alive to all these. He himself seemed to be under a strange charm. It seemed to him as if he were moving in the right direction. And the river made it a point to go against him. But it did not matter. He did not care. Why should he? He had never asked questions. Life goes on as it should!

And he moved. Till he could not keep pace with the against-the-river. He knew that the force that had propelled the river down was much stronger than the one that had propelled him up. And, yet, he did not care. He did not feel the enormity of his task – of reaching the source of the river. Of the movement. Of speed. Of life.

Time had ceased to hold any significance to him. For he had forsaken his present. He was going towards the origin, the source. He thought he was living in his past. And when he would reach the origin, he would already have lived his future. He moved. Relentlessly. Restlessly.

When? – he did not know. How? – he did not know. Where? – he did not know. When he opened his eyes, suddenly, there was nothing around him.

He was surrounded by a vast ocean of nothingness. He could not feel anything. For there was nothing for him to feel. Nothing to touch. Nothing to hear. Nothing to smell. Nothing to see. Nothing for him to understand. Not a word or whisper was being uttered. Nothing lay in front of him or behind him. He was surrounded by a vast open sheet of gold. Shining and in turn giving its light to the Sun. to give to the whole world. A vast ocean of pure, pristine ice. Snow. As far as he could see – there was only snow. He was standing on snow. He was surrounded by snow. Snow-clad mountain peaks. But everything was cold. He could feel nothing. Nothing could feel him. It was an apathetic understanding – mutual. He had reached the source of the river. Of the movement. Of the river. Of its speed. Of its force. Of its life. Only, here there was no river. No movement. No speed. no force. No life. Even he was standing still.

Just like everything else.

He was dead. As everything else was.

_________________________________________________________________________________

अब

अब

तेरे दिल की जुम्बिशें भी मेरे दिल में आ गईं हैं
अब धड़कनों का क्या है, कि आए या न आए!
नजरों से तेरे पी ली छाई है वो खुमारी
अब होश का भी क्या है, गो आए या न आए॥
जीते थे हम अभी तक तेरे नाम के सहारे
माजी का मेरे क्या है, याद आए या न आए।
जीना हैं किसको कहते जब तू ही पास न हो
अब मौत का भी क्या है, आए या न आए॥
अब मौत का भी क्या है, आए या न आए॥

- सुधांशु ॥


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पहचान

पहचान

तुम्हारी ख्वाहिश में हमने जो ख्वाब बुने
उनमें एक आंच थी, हम जलते रहे।
खुद को जाना न खुदाई समझी
तुम्हरी जुस्तजू में बेसाख्ता चलते रहे॥

किसको मालूम था मंजिल का पता
कौन जानता था राह के मोड़ों को
हम तो बस चल पड़े तो चलते रहे
तेरी तस्वीर रख के नजरों में।

तुझको सोचा है, जब भी याद किया
दिल के किसी कोने में इक टीस उठी।
तू जहां होगी शायद खुश होगी
मैं यहां हूं, ये दुआ करता हूं॥

हम मिले एक बार, फ़िर मिलते रहे
जाने कितने दफ़े सरगोशियां कीं।
ऐ मेरे हमराज, मुझे इतना बता
तेरा मुझसे ओ मेरा तुझसे रिश्ता क्या है॥

तुझको देखा न सुना, सिर्फ़ एहसास है तूं
मेरी इस रुह के लिए एक सांस है तूं
तेरी इस जुस्तजू में हम तो जिए जाएंगे
कितनी ही दूर सही, दिल के मेरे पास है तूं॥

ऐ खुदा तुझसे मिलुंगा जो कभी, पूछुंगा
मुझमें कुछ तुमने तो देखा होगा।
दर्द इतना जो दिया, तनहाई दी
उसको तूने सुकूं दिया होगा॥

तेरी दानिशमंदी पे है मुझको भरोसा लेकिन
क्या वो खुश है तेरी इस निस्बत से?
हम इंतजार करेंगे भले कयामत तक
क्या तूं खुश होगा उस कयामत से??
- सुधांशु



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Some thoughts:

Some thoughts:
मिट्टी की हान्डी काठ की हान्डी से कमजोर दीखती है लेकिन जितनी बार चाहो आग पर चढा लो। काठ की एक ही बार चढ सकती है। आंच अधिक हो तो मिट्टी चटखती है, काठ राख हो जाती है। अन्दर की ताकत विपरीत परिस्थितियों में ही दीखती है॥

कमजोर को मौका दिया नहीं जाता, कमजोर से मौका छीना जाता है।
हमेशा से यही होता आया है और हमेशा यही होता रहेगा। आदमी सिर्फ़ जानवर सा दीखता नहीं, शहर सिर्फ़ जंगल से दीखते नहीं।

Every pebble in your way can't slow you down
Every turn in your path can't dull your force
For you are the chosen one
Every scared face can't fill you with remorse.
Life follows a cycle
And Death is but a stage
What got created will be dead -
Why such joy, why any rage???



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तुमसे इक बात कहूँ...

तुमसे इक बात कहूँ...

हमारी दास्ताँ में इक सफ़ा अभी बाक़ी है,
किसने कहा मोड़ पे कभी सफ़र ख़त्म होता है?
कितने भी इम्तिहान लाती है ज़िन्दगी,
किसने कहा गिरनेवाला गिरा होता है?

बाज़ी में कभी आमने सामने भी हुए हों
सवब ये नहीं, न तुमको हराना मेरा मक़सद,
कि तुम्हारी हार भी अपनी और जीत भी अपनी,
तो जब गर्द बैठ जाए तो गले मेरे लग आना।।

तुमसे कब ज़िन्दगी हुई, वीराना हुआ
ये कभी कह न सका, सुन न सका।
इतना कह दूँ अगर यक़ीं कर लो
तुम नहीं हो तो ज़िन्दगी ख़ाली है।।

तुमसे हो दूर ये एहसास हुआ
कि इसको जीना तो नहीं कहते।
काम शायद कभी तो आएँगे
फिर लगेगा तुम्हें कि हम भी हैं।।

जज़्ब कर डाले जाने कितने ही,
अहसास ओ पी लिए आँसू।
आज हमको नहीं गिला कोई,
शब जो गुज़री तो सहर अपनी है।।

दिल जो माने कभी यक़ीं कर लो
तुम तो तुम हो, हम भी हम ही हैं।
उसने कुछ सोच मिलाया होगा,
मोड़ के बाद सफ़र बाक़ी है।।

- 5th July 2014, 0313 hrs






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उफ़्फ़

उफ़्फ़

उफ़ ये रुख्सारों पे फ़ैले गेसू
उफ़ ये शाने से ढलकता आंचल
कहते हैं जीने नहीं देंगे तुम्हें
अजनबी! पहलू में हमारे आओ।

उफ़ ये नम आंखें हैं कि मयखाना
लरजते होठ हैं कि पैमाना
कहते हैं हमसे बेमुरव्वत ये
अजनबी होश में तो आ जाओ॥

नजरें जब उनकी झुकीं होतीं हैं
लगे कि शाम होने को आई
होठ जब आधे खुले होते हैं
लगेव्कि कोई कली मुस्काई
गर्ज ये है, गर्ज ये है कि जिन्दगी ठहरे
और कहे हमसे तुम ठहर जाओ॥
कहते हैं जीने नहीं देंगे तुम्हें
अजनबी! पहलू में हमारे आओ।

- सुधांशु ॥


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Why should I like you?

Why should I like you?
We are born free but are everywhere in chains. Thus spake Rousseau.
The chains he referred to are our relationships. The societal covenant that gives rise to our emotions - joy, sorrow, sadness, anxiety, frustration, anger, elation, and what have you!
How do we build and sustain relationships? Why should someone be interested in knowing us for what we are about? Are we interesting?
What makes us interesting? For others, that is. We may be in love with ourselves, the way we are, but do we attract enough right people to us?
What makes us attractive?


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तलाश

तलाश

दिल में इक दाग लिए घूमा किए
सुकूं मिलेगा कभी यकीं तो था।
जुस्तजू खुद की थी, बेहाल रहे
जब मिले, चेहरा अजनबी सा था॥

सबको खुश रखने की कोशिश में
खुद को जाने कहां भुला आए।
न खुदा याद रहा, न खुदाई ही
सारी राहों का पता भूल आए॥

मंजिलें दूर रहीं, खिसकती गईं
हम भी ताउम्र यूं भटकते रहे।
साथ कोई तो कभी आएगा
जिसको भी मेरी तलाश रहे॥

उम्र इतनी जो बख्शी मुझको
जिन्दगी भी थोड़ी दी होती।
अब तो बस इतनी मेरी ख्वाहिश है
सांस रुक जाए, इन्तजार कभी खत्म तो हो॥

- सुधांशु
22.06.'13




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अलाव

अलाव

एक अलाव की जलती सुलगती आंच सी
चलती जाती है जिन्दगी,
थोड़ी तपिश देती हुई
थोड़ी सिहरन है बदन में फ़िर भी॥

तपिश देने के लिए अलाव सोचता नहीं
कि क्या डाला है आदमी ने उसमें ।
इंधन, कचरा, खुशी या आंसू
बस थोड़ी आंच और थोड़ी हवा ।

थोड़ा धुआं, थोड़ी आग और थोड़ी लपटें
थोड़ी गरमी, एक लिपटा कम्बल
थोड़ी वो बचपन की बातें,
थोड़े जवानी के गीत
थोड़ी तपिश, थोड़ी सिहरन
अलाव सुलगता रहता है कच्ची पक्की आंच में।
और थोड़ी थोड़ी कटती जाती है जिन्दगी॥

सर्द हवा के झोंके आते लपटें लहरा उठतीं हैं
सर्दी बढ सी जाती है और
अलाव में आग भड़क भी जाती है
पर सर्दी बढती जाती है।

कम्बल लिपटे ऐसे तन पे जैसे साजन की बांहें
गर्मी देतीं हैं तन को पर थोड़ी चुभतीं जातीं हैं

जाड़े की वो रात ही ऐसी
सर्दी, सिहरन, बांहें, कम्बल
तपिश, दबिश और थोड़े आंसू
धुआं, अगन और थोड़ी गर्मी ।

एक अलाव के पास की बातें
कुछ एक ऐसे खास की बातें
कोई गिन ले दिल की धड़कन
लहरा दे लपटों को कोई और मिटा दे तन की सिहरन ॥

सब देखता जाता है अलाव और सुलगता जाता है,
थोड़ी गर्मी, थोड़े आंसू और देता थोड़ा अपनापन,
जीवन भी चलता जाता है ॥

- सुधांशु ॥

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Destiny: Twisted

When one is supposed to be one way and destiny wills otherwise. For those of us who don't believe in the above:

Second Chances

Second Chances

Apocalypse for the Consulting business - first time right. Teachers going jobless - kids learn and start doing things first time right. God loses his divinity - to err is no longer human for they start doing everything first time right.
Well, God can rest in peace. So can teachers and consultants and a whole lot of people who make a living out of others' mistakes. We ain't gonna stop making n repeating our mistakes any time soon!
What makes a second chance so important? And what makes us qualify for one? Who decides? When? Till how far? N how many?
Don't we all falter? Every time we start something new? Maybe some of us are super-creatures and don't, but most of us do. And we've been consistent at faltering - remember how long we took to learn to speak, write, stand, walk, run, cycle, drive? We still do - try remembering names of all people that we touch every day! Imagine if in retrospect all those second and third and fourth chances were snatched from us! Nonsense, you said? Well, that's exactly some of us do when it comes to others! "Do unto others as you would have them do to you" - not such an easy tenet to live by. At the first opportunity we tend to get all propah and snatch the same second chance away from the next person. Don't we? We say we believe in continuous learning, evolution and growth of the individual. Do we really? Food for thought.
We are all creations of our experiences and environment - we expect everyone we come in contact with to be on the same page, right from the word go! Don't we? Communication is the sender's responsibility - we read. And yet if the next person fails to get it, we get upset with him/her! Or is it just the manifestation of our frustration with ourselves? But then do we feel any remorse later? If not, isn't there some course correction that we need to make? A morsel more to chew on!
Is it something we experience day in and day out - at home, at work, while driving, and at a whole host of places and in a whole lot of situations? Do we tend to get harsher the closer the person is to us? 'Coz for the others we think we just don't care?
Sharing experiences brings the other closer to our plane. Communication gets so much more effective. Grudge goes out of the equation. Expecting and getting second chances so possible. And then one day, some day, they may not be needed at all! Teachers, Suits n God - watch out!



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लम्हे

लम्हे

कुछ लम्हे साथ गुजारे हैं
कुछ रातें साथ गुजारीं हैं।
कुछ दिन भी साथ में काटे हैं
कुछ खुशियां हमने बांटी हैं।
कुछ गम भी साथ में काटे हैं
कुछ लम्हे साथ गुजारे हैं।

किस मोड़ मिले मालूम नहीं
किस ओर चले मालूम नहीं।
बस मिलना था सो मिल ही गए
मुंह मोड़ चले मालूम नहीं।

एक गांव कभी था अपना सा
एक बाट कभी थी अपनी भी
एक मोड़ कभी था अपना भी
एक साथ कभी था अपना सा।

वो पेड़ की टहनी अपनी थी
जिस पे पींगें मारीं थीं
झूले थे हम जी भर के
गूंजी अपनी किलकारी थी।

दुनियाँ की आपाधापी में
हम जाने चले कहां आए
वो गांव गया, वो टहनी भी
वो सारे रस्ते भूल आए,

वो डरना और सहमना भी
वो गिरना और सम्भलना भी
वो हाथ बढाकर छू पाना
वो बन्द आंखों से दीखना भी,

वो वादे साथ निभाने के
जो कसमें हमने खाईं थीं
वो बात गई, वो जात गई
वो शाम गई, वो सहर गई,

कुछ लम्हे चुरा के रखे हैं
हमने वक्त के सीने से
उन लम्हों में शायद फ़िर से कभी
मतलब मिल जाएं जीने के,

उन कच्ची पक्की यादों के,
उन कच्चे पक्के लम्हों के,
उन राहों के, उन मोड़ों के,
तिनके सा सही, सहारे हैं।
कुछ लम्हे साथ गुजारे हैं,
कुछ खुशियां हमने बांटी हैं,
कुछ गम भी साथ में काटे हैं,
कुछ लम्हे साथ गुजारे हैं ॥

- सुधांशु ॥



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पहचान

पहचान

तुम्हारी ख्वाहिश में हमने जो ख्वाब बुने
उनमें एक आंच थी, हम जलते रहे।
खुद को जाना न खुदाई समझी
तुम्हरी जुस्तजू में बेसाख्ता चलते रहे॥

किसको मालूम था मंजिल का पता
कौन जानता था राह के मोड़ों को
हम तो बस चल पड़े तो चलते रहे
तेरी तस्वीर रख के नजरों में।

तुझको सोचा है, जब भी याद किया
दिल के किसी कोने में इक टीस उठी।
तू जहां होगी शायद खुश होगी
मैं यहां हूं, ये दुआ करता हूं॥

हम मिले एक बार, फ़िर मिलते रहे
जाने कितने दफ़े सरगोशियां कीं।
ऐ मेरे हमराज, मुझे इतना बता
तेरा मुझसे ओ मेरा तुझसे रिश्ता क्या है॥

तुझको देखा न सुना, सिर्फ़ एहसास है तूं
मेरी इस रुह के लिए इक सांस है तूं
तेरी इस जुस्तजू में हम तो जिए जाएंगे
कितनी ही दूर सही, दिल के मेरे पास है तूं॥

ऐ खुदा तुझसे मिलुंगा जो कभी, पूछुंगा
मुझमें कुछ तुमने तो देखा होगा।
दर्द इतना जो दिया, तनहाई दी
उसको तूने सुकूं दिया होगा॥

तेरी दानिशमंदी पे है मुझको भरोसा लेकिन
क्या वो खुश है तेरी इस निस्बत से?
हम इंतजार करेंगे भले कयामत तक
क्या तूं खुश होगा उस कयामत से??

- सुधांशु
03/22/2013


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From 4 P's to 4 A's

From 4 P's to 4 A's
We've all grown up with the 4 P's of Marketing - Product, Price, Prmotion, Place. Then it got stretched. People, process n physical evidence got added. Do they really matter?
The objective is to bring the customer to our outlet, to our product/service and to want to spare her top dollar for d product/service that we are strutting and then actually doing so. Is she really concerned with the 4 P's or the 7?
I believe what's going to make her part with her top dollar are not necessarily the 4 P's. Then what are they?
I believe they are the 4 A's:
Awareness
Accessibility
Availability and
Affordability.
Probably we can explain these in terms of what we think matter to the customer for her dollar! May be not.
More often than not we rack our brains trying to find out what is it that helps us acquire or retain customers. Think it over. What is it? Put yourself in her shoes and you will invariably come up with the answer.

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The Crazies

The Crazies
No peak remains unconquered. The question is if you want to be the one to do it or you want to step aside for someone else! When George Mallory was asked,"What do you so badly want to scale Mount Everest?" his answer was,"because it's there"! How often do we turn away from our peaks?
Spent the last few days trying to motivate a bunch of associates settled in a comfort zone seldom sensing the need to wander far from it. Thinking of wandering far from known confines can give the best of us the heebie-jeebies!
Came up with the starting lines of this post during one of the conversations! How do you fill life with purpose and not spend it looking for it? We are all on a mission. Only a handful few ever get to know what that mission is. Is it then possible to believe that what we are doing now may be a part of the grand design? But then what about the mavericks who stretch the envelop? What is more important, to keep at it or try and turn it on its head, finding answers to the questions or asking the right questions?
We would probably still be living in caves of Africa if some crazies had not asked some questions and ventured out far on a limb and a prayer, to seek! Who knows if any of them did find what they sought? What we do know is today we inhabit six continents!
I hear a rocket uses 120% of it's notional energy level to blast off! And even that is not enough to take it onto higher planes in it's trajectory. Booster rockets need to be fired off! Is there a lesson there on how to manage our life, our relationships, ourselves? Food for thought.
Till later...

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I tells you... Dateline Santiago de Chile

I tells you... Dateline Santiago de Chile

I tells you? Is that a typo? Did I hear it right? No, its not a typo and you bet I heard right. Will come back to it, though.
Chile is on the other side of the earth as India. Nestled in the undulating Andes, it's a constant roller coaster of the modern and the ancient. Chile, at least most of it, formed part of Peru and Chileans, mostly, descend from the Mayans. They go back a long long time. Though, today it's a melting pot of the Peruvians, the Venezuelans, the Colombians and so on so forth, but mostly Central Americans.
As a country, it's a visual treat. Miles and miles of pine forests framing acres and acres of vineyards on both sides of very modern expressways! Santiago, with a population of over seven million, is the largest city. A hundred km away is the port city of Valparaiso, or as they say, puerto. It looks like a city which acquired a mind of it's own in defying its planners! Here the Pacific gently caresses the lower Andes. Mankind, perhaps, visited this place to see this play of the ocean and the mountain from its shoulders and never left. The whole city is like a carpet spread on the slopes. And nestled next to it is the beautiful quaint town of Vina del Mar. Sun, sand and surf! Children, young and old, frolic on the beach! Bodies, young and able, jump in and out of huge waves on their surfboards. People come here to reclaim a piece of life from their daily routine.
On my next visit, expect to visit the southern part, close to the Polar cap and take in the views of snow clad Andes!
5000 km long and hardly 200 km wide, the country is almost the shape of a chilli. Though, I'm assured the two are entirely unconnected. A beautiful country inhabited by beautiful people!
Now on to "I tells you...". I had a couple of colleagues, engineers both, here with me for a couple of days. We have 18 official languages and more than 8000 dialects, or so I read somewhere. The language of global commerce, English, too, hasn't remained untouched from our diversity. We seem to speak it, if not in 8000 different ways, definitely in as many ways as there are parts of India that we come from. I've witnessed people from other countries needing translation from what we, at times peddle as English, into the English that the world at large speaks! And I'm not talking of Queen's English. And then there are gems like, I tells you, we are very confident and we want to make you confident...
Is it time we took a step back and introspected if we are ready to make it an Indian century? Or at least compete with the Chinese to make it one?
On a lighter note, here is a joke borrowed from a friend:
A woman asks her husband, busy throwing darts at the board imagining her face to be where the bull's eye is, "honey, what are you doing?" Husband: "missing you!"
Till later...

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Journey - A Long One

I undertook my first travel in a bullock cart on a dirt track between two teeming villages in the hinterland of Bihar. That was the Bihar of darkness. Having been in a deep slumber despite its bountiful energy for centuries. Yet to wake up and realise what it is like to be awake, to be alive! The only sound breaking the monotony of the sound of the cart and the buzz of the jungle around would be the call of the driver hollering the oxen to move faster. That's what I guess, having retraced the journey a few times, for the first time around I must have been only a few months young!
Life never came easy. Those were the days of scarcity. The most scarce were feelings, for scarcity has the immense ability to scald emotions beyond recognition. One went on nevertheless.
A youngster was still protected. Protected from his harsh surroundings, protected from the dry dreary world of the grown ups. He was but an adjunct to the world inhabited by the elders. He was there because he was supposed to be, a natural progression of the social bindings. No more no less.
In this milieu one grew up faster than one otherwise would.
Meandering through the various lanes and bylanes one reached one's destined highway or runway as the case might be. I have been no exception.
Along the way I made and unmade friends, entered into relationships, moved places and generation! At thirty five, I am a father, a husband, a subordinate, a colleague, a brother, a son, a friend, a confidante, and so on so forth. Among such a multiplicity of tags, it seems the only thing I seem to have misplaced is me!
My yet longest journey, to the other side of the globe, seems to be bringing such a tidal sweep of feelings! Is it time I undertook another one? One deep inside?

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