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Showing posts from 2012

Delhi Gang Rape: A Medley of Thoughts

TOI calls her Nirbhaya—the Fearless One. 12 days on, she’s putting up one of the most inspiring fights I have seen in recent times. One thought, in the beginning, presumptuously, that the nation was behind her, with its prayers and encouragement. Now I feel humbled and think that perhaps the nation is drawing strength from this 23-year old girl, this epitome of indomitable spirit, who survived a bloodcurdling assault, is fighting intestinal gangrene, sepsis, breathing difficulties and psychological trauma, and who is alert enough to give statement not once, but twice. Shame on the powers-that-be that put her through this ordeal twice; for putting her in the cross fire of accusations and counter accusations that only brings the corruptness and ineptness of the establishment and administration into sharp focus. The swell of protesters in Delhi asking for justice and safety for women is heartening on a couple of accounts. As a friend put it, the tree is being shaken up. Today’s yo

Been there, dune that!

Is traveling about getting somewhere or getting away from it all? Is it about finding something or getting lost? Is it about progress or taking a detour? Or is it simply about moments—magical, gastronomical, funny, poignant or adventurous? Moments were aplenty during this winter trip to Rajasthan: Walking through the enchanted woods of Keoladeo National Park, feeling like an Alice who’s just slid down the rabbit hole; Standing stunned before the exquisite but uniquely individualistic monuments at Fatehpur Sikri, hearing a voice of an extraordinary man across 400 years;  Staring at a ceiling painted in a style that can be only described as Moghul-kitsch with horrid fascination, unable to sleep in an overwhelmingly garish hotel in Jaipur; Marveling at the effortless and steady-footed way the camel negotiated sand dunes, even with a payload such as me… And in the middle of these moments, I think I did manage to get away, get lost, get somewhere and find something. I lost the stress

Priya @ Large

Yes, I have been about this year, mostly with my glorious travel companions. From sea shore to hills to deep jungles, we went everywhere. We baked in 45-degree temperatures, squelched and waded in monsoon rains, and walked endlessly in salubrious weather. The most significant thing about this is the subtle difference that has come over me as a traveler. Traveling has become a spiritual experience, at least in parts. It could be because I stop to observe birds, wild flowers, insects, and water droplets on blades of grass from behind my camera a lot nowadays, especially after learning the basics of macro photography. The point is in every trip, there is a moment I feel I understand the world, nature, and perhaps even God better. I feel connected. I feel integrated. I feel grateful to be here. Who else to describe what I feel eloquently than Subramania Bharathi: Ethanai kodi inbam vaithai iraiva Chithinai achithudan inaithai Angu cherum iym bhoothathu viyanula chamaithai Athanai ula

When I say free...

I mean very free verse. So free that you might wonder whether it is verse. But I have been writing these poems regularly for a few months now, usually in the mornings. These little spurts of creativity help me face increasingly stressful days at work and give me a reason to feel good about life, on a day-to-day basis. The Ride Outside my balcony was a fluffy cloud "Hop on, time for a ride," it said. I jumped over the rails, nimbler than I thought Fell headlong into its cushiony softness. We soared towards the orange streaked sky Cold wind swept my hair, my nose tip froze I waved at a flock of birds, they nodded at me We swerved sharply as a plane passed by (Deafening noise, btw, I am now hard of hearing) We met a minor God, rushing to an appointment We talked, my cloud and I-- Water bearing is not as easy as it looks Bombarded by hills, zapped by lightning! It talked of the trauma, the hard life I talked, about nothing in particular. Eventually, silence bef

This Nano Life

30 sweet seconds to enjoy a winter full moon in an inky black sky framed by the bare branches of a tree looking like a Van Gogh painting at Lonavala. 30 alone seconds to watch the tops of the 100 feet casuarina trees outside our cottage at Dive Agar erupt into a confusion of yellow as two dozen Golden Orioles rose out of it to the accompaniment of a cacophony of twitter. 30 all-too-short minutes to enjoy the biting cold of early Delhi morning at Chanakya Puri, watching school kids bundled up in woolens going to school, like so many bees. Four achingly nostalgic hours to dash from Marina Beach to Saravana Bhavan to Mount Road to Besant Nagar Beach, remembering those crucial three years of shedding small town-ness, growing wings, growing up, falling in love, being betrayed, picking up guys at a fast food restaurant on a bet, pillion riding to Mahabalipuram on a bike... Vignettes framed sharply by the strict confines of time to enjoy them--like looking through someone else’s photo albu

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