India’s North East- The land of beauty and bliss.

2017 has been one of the most exciting years of my otherwise less happening life. It’s just half the year and I have travelled a lot. A lot by my standards atleast. First let me share my experience of an epic road trip with 2 of my buddies to the hidden jewel of India’s tourist circuit- the enchantingly beautiful North East. Assam, Nagaland and Meghalaya is where we went. We were touched by the simple, hardy and joyful people. A people who have struggled and are still struggling against the elements, official apathy and sidelining from India’s mainland but who, through their sheer hard work, natural athletic build and inherent jolly nature manage to stay happy and provide a cozy home, a warm meal and a sincere smile to anyone who visits them.

Its a region so beautiful, that any description in mere words is doing its beauty awful injustice. It is God’s poetry in action. Lush greenery, mountains and valleys with gushing rivers, the clouds descending upon them playing hide and seek. Every corner of the winding mountain roads waiting just to spring a picture more beautiful than the previous one. The camera and our eyes got exhausted at the end of the trip just trying meekly to capture all this wonderful beauty in our respective lenses. It inspired both awe and respect for nature and made us once again realize how tiny and inconsequential we really in front of nature’s grandeur and fury.

And the people. Oh how beautiful were the girls that we couldn’t help gawk at every second or third girl who crossed our paths. And they have an impeccable fashion sense. The young boys and girls were smartly dressed which constantly made us feel underdressed. J These guys can give Mumbai and Delhi fashion divas a run for their money with their style. Music is also an inherent part of their lives and most of them are fantastic singers and guitar players. They also speak English way better than so-called convent educated kids and are very gentle, hard-working, and trustworthy.

So much, just so much to write home about but never feels enough. This trip, this region and its beautiful people will remain forever etched in my memory and I will carry my love and respect for them to my last breath. May God bless them.

Note: Its about time we realize that they are our fellow countrymen who love India as much as any of us. They are OUR people. And we fail them every time we call them Chinki, Kancha or any such derogatory name or judge them only by their appearance or dressing. Let us give them the respect and love that they deserve.

Less is more

Look around, we’ve made a glorious mess,

Where less wants more and more needs less.

As I go about my life, there are some moments when I stop and think about how we sometimes need less of some good things we have. Yes. Less.

Now consider these set of questions.

You feel like listening to your favorite song, which you haven’t heard in a long time. You switch the radio and bam! It’s YOUR song playing!! I know just how awesome it feels. Now contrast that with simply going to your itunes and playing that song 5 times in a row. Kind of takes the fun out of it, right?

On a nice rainy day, would you prefer walking at your merry pace, taking in the beautiful sights and sounds and smells that nature showers you with in so much abundance or would you rather sit in your AC car and go for a drive, worrying about the traffic and fuel and what not?

It’s a weekend and you’ve got nothing much to do. Do you ‘vegetate’ in front of your idiot box or drop in to your friend’s house unannounced and order him to make you a cup of chai and then chat for a loooong time?

Are you busy furiously typing away at your mobile when your wife/ husband/ siblings/ parents/ friends are sitting with you talking to you?

You want to speak to a friend after a long long time. How about writing a nice heartfelt letter to him/ her instead of calling/ chatting/ whatsapping (if that’s a verb)? How do you think he/she will feel to know that you took the trouble to write a letter to them? (I’m going to do this very soon :)  

Is your idea of a well spent holiday a day in the park, exercising, breathing fresh air, playing, running around or a day at the mall (like your mandatory weekly pilgrimage) and drink expensive coffee and try on a hundred clothes in the Central or Shoppers Stop when you intend to buy none?

Now, answer these questions to yourself and you’ll get my drift.

The more I think, the less I seem to want and need. 

We're all gonna be there one day...

I don't know about other countries but in our country, we are shamefully disrespectful of the old. Everyday, as I travel to office, I see pale, weak, graying old men and women pulling handcarts, working as coolies, selling petty wares on the footpath and I do not dare look them in the eye. We look at them with disgust and sometimes pity and walk hurriedly past by.
Their soiled, torn clothes, their weak hands and legs tear my heart apart. But the most pitiful, pathetic, sad part is the look in their despondent eyes, one which seems to ask every passerby, "Why after a life of hard work, do I have to bear these last days slowly rotting, deprived of the dignity which I deserve?" And that is just one question. It's as if they are waiting eagerly for their last and final flight into the other world. 
The government for one, has done precious little beyond announcing schemes which never go beyond the files in which they lie under layers of dust. No arrangement for them to spend their last days with dignity and peace. The less said about it, the better.
But what is it that we as citizens people do to alleviate their pain? Mind you, they don't need our sympathy, they ask for respect and dignity. Let's start by giving them a smile and a polite nod every time we pass one. There's much more to do than just that, but that'll be a good start.
And lastly let's remember, we're all gonna be there one day too... 

On the luxury of silence...

One of the things that has become scarce or rather impossible to get apart from a lot of good things is silence. And by silence, I mean, absolute silence. One in which even a pin falling or your own breathing could be heard clearly. And sadly, we don’t even notice the lack of it like we do in case of an electricity black out and complete darkness.

Everywhere we go, there’s noise. There’s the cars and other vehicles passing by, honking  incessantly and quite unnecessarily, the loud speakers from the street, people quarrelling, dogs barking, the radio or mp3 player playing good but at times unwanted songs, and how can I forget the absurd amount of time we spend talking on our mobile phones.

Even the nights are not spared of their share of noise. And then we spend extra money buying silence. Every other new residential scheme advertises “a haven of peace and tranquil”, “a place where the only sounds are those of the flowing river and the cuckoo singing”, etc. 

Yes. We need silence. To spend a moment in introspection. To let the mind drift into thoughtlessness for a moment. To just give a moments complete rest to our senses. To just calm down and hear ourselves breathing. I mean, we can close our eyes but we can’t close our ears, can we? And I’m just glad to get my much required dose of it on my treks.

Silence today is a luxury, only a few can afford and which all of us could do with a little more than what we’re getting these days. Silence is healing. No wonder the girl on the poster in our doctors’ waiting room says “Sshhhh……” 

A little monsoon poetry...

Now, I write a little poetry every now and then, and what's a poet who hasn't written a poem on the rains. :D And despite the rain gods not really seeming to be in a very benevolent mood this season, the first shower nonetheless, brings with it all the freshness of the forthcoming monsoon season. And like I said, I just couldn't stop myself from putting together a collection of words rhymed with great difficulty, something I would like to call a poem, and something I hope, my readers will agree with. So here goes...

A bright sunny afternoon turns into grey,

A strong gusty wind starts blowing away.

The parched earth gives out a sweet fresh scent,

And the light drizzle suddenly turns into a torrent

The dry thirsty village welcomes it with glee,

The hope of a good crop in its eyes you see.

The city streets get flooded with the sudden gush

And busy looking street folks for shelter, they rush.

Children in the streets go splashing about,

They jump and laugh with joyful shouts.

The grown up folks for shelter run,

Though secretly they wish they could join the fun.

For some it’s a blessing, for the poor it’s a bane,

With their homes washed away, they’ll start over again.

All that it takes is one heavy shower,

And it leaves their lives, changed forever.

The romantic ideas of dancing peacocks,

Of singing koels and life sprouting on rocks.

For the city these ideas are just fiction,

A hopeless idea of a poet’s imagination.

So many emotions the rains bring with them,

 They come and go, and nothing’s ever the same.

By the window, I think as I sit and see,

What do the rains really mean to me?

On a rainy day and the "pain" of city folks

It was a good day yesterday. After two dry months, the rain gods finally showered us with their blessings and brought a ray of hope in the gloomy hearts of thousands of farmers and crores of people worried about an impending drought.

On one side, there were happy sighs from my family and a lot of my friends. And on the other, were the smart alecs on Facebook posting disgruntled comments about how just a day of rains spoiled their clothes and caused them so much pain.

Its painful to see city folks being so ignorant, so blissfully unaware of what’s happening to their countrymen outside the comfort of their air conditioned homes and offices. We take the water flowing from our taps, the foodgrain and vegetables in the shops and market for granted, little knowing that it has taken a lot of pain and effort in producing them and the sons of the soil who feed us, go through hell just making ends meet and lead a meaningful life.

I pray for 2 things today, firstly for more rains and a good monsoon and secondly for my friends in the city to become more sensitive and aware about our country and our fellow countrymen.

On the beauty of a moonlit landscape

I wonder how many of my city born and brought up friends have had the good fortune of watching a moonlit landscape on a full moon night. I'll tell you, it's absolutely beautiful!!!
One of the advantages of an otherwise tiring sales job is the travel. My job has taken me to or through many remote villages and some really beautiful terrain through the majestic Sahyadris.
Travelling once from one such place in the rickety State Transport bus, I saw a dry mountain valley with a few small huts and a small serene lake lit by nothing but the soft moonlight.
The soft, gentle light wrapping everything in its cool glow, the whole scene, so perfectly lit, not too bright and yet bright enough to let you walk without requiring a torch. So enchanted was I, looking at it, that the headlights of vehicles passing by seemed an ugly intrusion into the peaceful picture.
I felt like getting down the bus and walk to the top of the mountain and sit and just watch till the first ray of dawn ushers in a new day.
Although I couldn't do it then, I'll recommend it to everyone who ever gets the chance.