Shades Of The Sea


Recently I had the opportunity to go on a Photowalk with some really talented photographers one fine Sunday afternoon on the streets of Mumbai. Equipped with nothing but an iPhone, I tried my hands at street photography and turns out, I was pretty impressed with the results. I also learnt several lessons along the way.

1) Look. Notice. See. Watch every corner of the streetside unfold into photographic beauty as you peer at every pebble and sand grain through the lens of your camera. Beauty can be found anywhere. All you need to do is look.

2) Wait till your subject gets busy and resumes his/her own work before clicking his/her picture.

3) If a Mumbai fisherman tells you not to click a picture of his colorful boats, you DO NOT click a picture of his colorful boats.

Enjoy and comment below!

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The human experience


Stand at your window. Nonchalantly notice the greenness of the tree leaves and observe your windowsill. Let your eyes wander till they settle on a speckled red flower. Observe its yellow markings and lose yourself in marvel. Feel the stillness surrounding the trees surround you and hold it in your hands. Look at it- its overwhelming presence, its nauseating fear, its piercing clarity- feel the gentle thud of your heartbeat pounding against your chest in synchronicity  with the trees’ movements. Realize that the trees breathe too. Feel connected. 

Hold a rabbit in your hand. Feel its heartbeat running a million miles a minute, notice the gaping terror in its eyes, feel its pulsating clock reverberating with the rush of your veins and realize you hold life.

Fight with your mother. Know that the fear in her eyes brings tears in yours and turn away. Become numb, stoic and insensitive. Clench your insides and draw yourself into a shell. Bend over and internally release the silent conflicts. Let them play havoc in your heart. Feel the anger shaking within making no effort to release without.

Hug a lover. Feel the invitation of his heart stretch itself wide enough to make room for you and feel welcomed. Feel the throbbing vulnerability of his being as he kisses you. Feel loved.

Lie awake at night. Watch your heart, twisted, clenched, and dirty, suspended in mid air and hear its blaring conflict. Ponder over your miseries and your need for fervid self annihilation and know that you are gloriously, infuriatingly and inevitably human.

I’m failing


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I’m failing. Miserably and inconsolably.

I look into the open fields and I see the vast blue skies spanning miles and miles across. The empty stretch of grassland does no good as scorned and humbled I walk, across the lonely roads.

Ten miles before and ten miles after, there isn’t a soul in sight.

I look towards the scattered robins and try to feel the life energy pulsating through them. I can’t.

I walk across the curb and I see the moss growing out of the half frozen sewage.

My hands start numbing and my skin prickles with the gradual chill of wind. I push my hands inside my pockets for warmth. I feel cold.

I look around once again. I am in an alien land, with alien houses, alien people and alien birds. There is something highly unsettling about this unfamiliarity. Something almost terrifying about not knowing, not being able to find my way around. I guess maybe I am the alien here.

I wonder if everyone around feels the same way. I stare at the people in cars passing by.

I pick up a pine cone on the way home. I cross the pedestrian bridge and see the sun shining through the winter clouds.

My silhouette reflects with the trees swaying along the river bank. I watch the beaver and ducks waddling across the pool without a worry in mind. I wonder if I could be like that and try to push out all thoughts from my mind.

I fail.

I want to be a speck of dust


I want to forget myself- the accumulated knowledge, the quest for love and self inquiry, the meaning of god and everything else. I want to drop all books- spiritual and non spiritual and delve into the world of fantasy and irrationality. I want to hide my vulnerability in the silence of the night and cry away in isolation as I seek emotional validation. I want to lose this endless battle of learning and unlearning. I want sweet repose.

I want to forget all dimensions of space. I want to erase time- past and future and be in the now. If you asked me what the now meant, I would probably not know. And I would know it too. But I don’t want to know anymore. I am tired of reasoning and rationalizing. I want to forget what it is to be alive. I want to forget the touch, tastes and sounds of the world. I want to lose love, approval, acceptance and desire. I want to kill passion and keep moving in this endless flow of existence.

If you were to be driving down a long winding road, you would find me hidden in the crevice of a rock, in a speck of dust. I want to be a speck of dust. I want to erase myself. Be nothing, feel nothing and know nothing.I want to be a robot- unaffected by emotions, events and thoughts. I want to live a life of utter ignorance. I want to drop this jaded skin. I want unconsciousness and suspension in this limbo- formless, thoughtless, nameless…

I am the most tired woman in the world. I am tired when I get up. Life requires an effort I cannot make. Please give me that heavy book. I need to put something heavy like that on top of my head. I have to place my feet under the pillows always, so as to be able to stay on earth. Otherwise I feel myself going away, going away at a tremendous speed, on account of my lightness. I know that I am dead. As soon as I utter a phrase my sincerity dies, becomes a lie whose coldness chills me. Don’t say anything, because I see that you understand me, and I am afraid of your understanding. I have such a fear of finding another like myself, and such a desire to find one! I am so utterly lonely, but I also have such a fear that my isolation be broken through, and I no longer be the head and ruler of my universe. I am in great terror of your understanding by which you penetrate into my world; and then I stand revealed and I have to share my kingdom with you.

― Anaïs Nin

If you were looking for God


If you were looking for God, I would tell you to observe the water droplets spewing out of your shower- their rainbow edges as they blur into nothingness, their mirror like façade and their shimmers as they hit the ground before shattering into a million diamonds.

If you were looking for God, I would ask you to look long enough into the glassy stare of another’s eyes till it begins to melt away to reveal a plethora of experiences and joy. I would tell you to look deeper and discover your own criterion of truth and beauty while the moments continue to transpire into eons and you know real human connection.

If you were looking for God, I would tell you to lie beneath the stars on a chilly night, wine glass in hand, and feel the pungent liquid trickling down and gently warming your insides. I would ask you to feel the warmth emanating from your rib cage as your eyes give way to the black void sucking you into oblivion.

If you were looking for God, I would take you to a temple and dare you to lose yourself in the palpable silence hanging ghoul like in the crevices before you groped among the idols enshrining the sanctum. And as you close your eyes in reverent prayer, I would take your  hand and walk you home. I would ask you to see the sun rays glistening through the stained glass painting on my window, make you smell the woody aroma of the books and their pages lining my shelf and hand you a cup of coffee. I would mutter something about the ultimate complexity and the stupidity of labeling God as a noun and walk away. And if on the next day, you were still looking for God, I would embrace you warmly and entwine my fingers in yours to continue this search with you.

Tell me your dreams


Tell me your dreams and I will tell you mine.

If only you could see the moths and their netted wings glowing in the rays of the streetlamp as they fly aimless and lost, the sheer wonder and inquiry in the eyes of a child as he looks, I would share the joy of seeing with you.

If only you could smell the earthy aroma as I walk placing one foot in front of the other in the forest breathing in scents, I would share the joy of fragrance with you.

If only you could hear the music of the birds and cars as they traverse along their respective paths, I would share the joy of listening with you.

If only you could walk with me through this conflict I face as I struggle and flit between dreams and reality, magic and illusion, silence and words, I would share the joy of mutual evolution with you.

If only you could feel my energy rising to the surface and coursing through my veins as I touch you, I would share the joy of passionate embrace with you.

If only you could show me your glee and wonder, the places that made you cry, the people that made you laugh, the things that inspired you to write, I would share the joy of companionship with you.

If only you could turn towards me and tell me your dreams, I would know the joy of sharing with you.

Tell me you dreams, stranger. I want to know you, feel you, taste you, and experience every bit of you. I want to know the thoughts that plague your mind, the layers beneath those brown eyes and the secrets that keep you up on nights. Show me your surprise, your turbulence  as I hear your breath hitch while I entangle myself in you.

Tell me your dreams and I will treasure them all, unlocking them in the deepest recesses of my heart when beauty turns into a thing too scarce and the nights stretch endlessly into the heavens and beyond and the lines between you and I blur and we become one.

The day I met the God of Love


It was a clear, bright noon. When walking home, I found myself to be alone, the entire street suddenly deserted, and light to be fast fading. As the sun hid completely, I saw a figure descend from above. My mind knew inexplicably, that it was a God, the God of Love.

My jaw dropped open at the sight of him. I stared at him blankly. I was astounded not out of awe, but out of surprise. He wasn’t anything like I had pictured. Clad in a simple white robe, he looked at me with gentle eyes. There was no divine light or halo over his head. Much like his clothing, his appearance was simple.

“Not what you had expected, eh?” he said, with a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

“No,” I said stupidly. What was I supposed to say? That I was expecting to see a glowing cherub with heart shaped arrows and bows?

Laughing heartily, he said to me, “It’s funny how your mind works. Love is not always flowers and hearts you see.”

“But…but..bu-t…” I stuttered. “But if love isn’t like that, then what is?” he said finishing my unuttered question. I simply nodded. “Come, I’ll show you,” he said taking me by the hand.

We walked along the street stopping at the side of a river. I saw a painter at work, painting the stream. It was a fairly small one, with a few plants growing by its side.

“Why does this stream fascinate you so much?” I asked him. “It’ a small stream,” I said.

Looking up from his work for the first time, the painter said, “Here you see the stream twisting and flowing around a few rocks, and disappearing into the distance. But I see the glacier it melted from, the mountain it flowed down from, the boulders it twisted and curved around, the way it changed from a mountain spring to a bubbling brook, the river it became, the trees that swayed on its bank, the farmers ploughing their fields along its borders, the fish swimming in it, the boats let into its waters by children and the lovers that sat along its bank, gazing into each other’s depths. Yet to you, it is only a stream.”

“It must take tremendous practice and work to do this,” I commented, impressed by his little talk. “Nah, it only takes love.” And with that, he resumed his painting.

The God signaled me to walk ahead. As we walked into the street, I saw an old woman, bending over with age, distributing food to urchins.

“Why do you do this?” I said, “Have you seen their nubile bodies? They look like they have rolled in the mud. Do not touch them, you will contract their diseases.” She smiled up at me from her half rimmed spectacles and said, “I lost my only grandson in the spring. Since then, life has never been the same. I have taken up the task to feed as many mouths as I can while I live. Often times, I see their little eyes shining with gratitude and I feel my grandson back with me again. It’s my way of keeping him close.”

“But don’t you feel the pain of his loss gnawing at your heart?” I asked. “Of course, I do,” she said. “But isn’t that the only way you learn to love?”

And again, the God lead me by the hand and ushered me to walk. We reached a hilltop where a young couple sat looking out into the sunset. My footfalls disturbed their moment. Yet, they seemed unperturbed. They beckoned me with their hands and offered me a seat on their bench.

“Sit,” said the God, sensing my reluctance on intruding their privacy. “Where are you from?” I asked the man. “London,” he said. “And she’s from Paris.”

“Does she speak English?” I asked gesturing towards the young lady. “No, and neither do I speak French.”

“But how do you communicate?” I asked, shocked.

“We understand each other better than anyone else. We don’t need words to communicate. It’s funny how love doesn’t need a language,” he said, turning towards the setting sun.

I sat on the hilltop with the two strangers I had just met and started to cry. I was overwhelmed. The tears flowed freely of their own accord. I saw myself in the blazing sun, in the pink glow that tinted the sky, in the trees that swayed on the hillside, in the painter, in the stream that he painted, in the old lady, in the urchins and in the two lovers. The tears flowed faster. Try as I might, I couldn’t stop crying. I was crying not because I was sad, but because for the first time in my life, I was alive.  I was love. I was infinite love.

“It’s time to go,” said the God, jerking me out of my reverie.

I followed his footsteps and we arrived at the street we had started from.  “You might be wondering why I did not give you any jargon on love. It was because I wanted you to experience and feel it for yourself. It can be quite overwhelming sometimes, eh?” he said, referring to my moment at the hilltop.

“Yes. But why is that I feel this void, this emptiness of love in my life at times?”

“It’s because you never knew how to ask for it,” he said, slowly ascending into the clouds.

“So all I need to do is ask?” I shouted as I saw him vanishing into the heavens.

As he disappeared into the sky, he said, “Ask, and ye shall receive.”

Hmm….


I’m sitting in the balcony, legs stretched out over the parapet with a book in my hand. I gaze absent mindedly at the view outside. Hmm. It’s rather scenic.
It has started to rain. From a slight drizzle it has picked up speed and is going into a full blown torrent mode.
There is a knock on the door. My brother barges in with his dirty shoes and football with my parents at his heels. I return to my spot and resume my gazing.
The rain has slowed down now. I can hear sparrows chirping in the trees. In the distance, I can see smoke spiraling out of the kitchen window. It rides along with the smell of the wet earth and reaches my nostrils. Mmm…I can smell something tangy and delicious.
Far away, I can see the rolling green hills disappearing behind moisture laden clouds. My attention is diverted back to the lunchroom where I hear the clinking of several plates. There is soft music playing downstairs. A car horn is sounded by a frantic driver somewhere.
I see a stone pathway winding away to some road. I wonder where it leads.
It has stopped raining now.

A clear sky


As I look outside my window, I notice the blurry red and yellow car lights flashing their way through the torrential showers. I see children wading across pools of murky waters. I hear the whistling policeman as he jostles the ever growing traffic. And I see myself, standing by the window, wishing for a clear starlit night.

I wish for a lot of things. I wish for the romantic love, the best friends, the attractive beauty, and the perfect life. I wish for a lot of things unsaid and unheard. Each of these wishes forms a twinkling star, illuminating the deep blue sky. I long to see these diamonds as I stand day after day by the window wishing and hoping for a clear sky.

But something dawns on me. I can sit and hope forever and watch as the rain washes away sparkle after sparkle. Or I can listen to another voice, another tiny being that whispers in the recesses of my heart and mind.

Often as I lie in bed, I hear it singing songs of joy and love. I hear it whooping in victory as it celebrates the world. And in the absolute quiet of the night, I hear its slow steady breathing.

And all of a sudden, the darkness seems to be filled with a warm glow. My ears buzz with a music that strums to the beat of my heart. And I smell an aroma, a fresh aroma that spirals out of the soft moist earth.

I run to window, rejoicing in the way the droplets caress my face washing away all traces of tiredness. I watch the sparrow as she flutters from one branch to another, ruffling her wings and shaking out drops of rainwater.

I watch the car lights move in and out of focus through the torrents, the kids making their way home as they splash through the puddles and the policeman as he tries to jostle the ever growing traffic.

I look towards the stormy grey sky as I see the clouds rolling in. Astonishingly, I don’t want a clear sky anymore.


This is an account of my brother’s trip to Japan! 😀

Goofiness Unlimited!

Hey guys I’m back again from my trip to Japan and today I’m going to tell you about it. Well you see in Japan we had lots of fun. But we had to train 5 hours a day on a regular basis. Sundays were off for us so we could have a break from karate.

Well you know we went to many places called ‘Harajuku’ ;Shinjuku’ ‘Akihabara’, the electronic city, the very famous Disneyland and Sudobashi amusement parks. We were staying in an apartment in a place called ‘Akasaka’. There was also a place named ‘Asakusa’ temple which was a very crowded place and the Japanese festival was going on. There was also a place named ‘Okachimachi’ which was a huge shopping center with everything available.

Well as I told you we trained 5 hours a day and the grandmaster of karate, Hanshi Goshi Yamaguchi taught us. It was a…

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