shamiana

It was our first date.  The monsoon kept its word. I failed to show up.  The verdure cool breeze sudden showers incessant pouring -  everything escaped me. Never realized Work Deadlines  Responsibilities Promises  Ate up my time.  Would I make a second date? Next year, maybe.

The intoxicating scent of mangoes, The summer songs of cuckoos, The sweet fragrance of first showers, Remind me of a distant past. Parched land and shriveled cattle scream for water. I cannot look them in the eye: my family. Braving hunger, poverty and injustice. I question myself: Did I fail them? I look for answers; find none. Suicide seems a lucrative option. A new career avenue, almost. Soon, this too shall pass. We continue to live:silent and resilient. In God we trust.Everything goes up: Prices,debts,corruption, deceit, Not a word of solace; not an iota of shame. Can somebody hear me? I'm sure you do. Your tender heart trembles in pain. But I know it's all in vain. I know it's a losing battle where no one gains.

Supervision I entered a room filled with a silence full of anticipation and anxiety, penetrated by  nervous clicking of the pen, tapping of feet, a rummage through the bag for the elusive hall-ticket/pencil/calculator/"lucky pen". My arrival was burdensome for many but a welcome relief for some. Mechanically, I started with the instructions:  an order to keep away their books, cellphones(switched off),notebooks and bags, a gentle reminder to use a black pen and a request to "double check" their hall tickets.   As soon as the question paper was distributed one witnessed familiar reactions: a fearful staring at the wall, or a heavy sigh of relief, a slight chuckle, a devilish smirk maybe,a last minute prayer,or a helpless and hopeless whistle of despair...all these set the mood in the exam hall.  Then, began the ordeal. The meticulous signing of the answer books, (first and foremost: an eye for signatures), a scrutiny of the hall ticket coupled w...

ठकीचे आजोबा नेपोलिअनचे चरित्र कपाटात ठेवले . वाटले पाठवू आजोबांसाठी नागपूरला . हल्ली ते फार वाचत नाहीत असे ठाऊक होते तरी वाटले पुस्तक पाहूनच बरे वाटेल त्यांना . पुस्तक अजूनही कपाटातच आहे . साधारण गेली दहा वर्षे तरी लुडविगचे नेपोलेअनचे चरित्र मिळाले तर आण असे ते मला सांगत होते . आता चरित्र मिळाले पण उशीर झाला खूपच … उन्हाळ्याच्या सुट्टीत अगदी ठरलेला कार्यक्रम असे . पुण्यात सगळे जमायचे . आम्ही चार नातवंडे . त्यात मी एकटीच नात ( म्हणून खास लाडकी )! कैऱ्या , आंबे पत्त्यांचे बंगले , आजीने पुरविलेले खाण्याचे लाड , रात्री गच्चीत रंगलेले झब्बुचे डाव ; सारे काही सुंदर , उत्साही आणि शांत आजच्या भाषेत “डी - स्ट्रेसिङ्ग “ . लहान वयातही अतिशय आकर्षण वाटे ते आजोबांच्या पुस्तक संग्रहाचे . तत्त्व - ज्ञान , इतिहास , उत्तम कादंबऱ्या , कला अशा विविध विषयांवरील ग्रंथांचा अतिशय व्यवस्थित ठेवलेला खजिनाच ! “ ही सगळी लायब्ररी तुझीच आहे” असे त्यांनी म्हटल्यावर काय आनंद वाटला होता . अ टेल ऑफ टू सिटीज हे त्यांच्या कपाटातून मी घेतलेले पहिले पुस्तक . आठवतो अजून साधा प्रसंग - आजोबा : शाम...

A truthful confession: Are u kidding me? Or are u- freaking- kidding me? Come on, you don't expect me to read the whole thing? The lure of literature is unknown to me. Novels,short stories,poems..well, they are the same: essentially boring. What's that thing again? Oh yes : Semiotics. The science of signs,isn't it? Some thing signifying something. Off we go on a merry go round: Building and locating structures, Calling them redundant and going Past them er I mean post. If I could do a Marxist reading I wonder what would Marx do? Bless you wiki-link

Live in the moment. Scriptures,philosophers,gurus across the world recommend the live- in- the -moment approach to life.  It sounds easy. Then, why is it tough to mitigate the past, to survive the present, and moreover, continue to hope for a better future. Why is it tempting to despair? To give up is easy; to let go is difficult.  They say one cannot hold on to the past. It slips through,like sand. Does it really? For, in comes the tide; a tidal wave full of emotions. Sand won't slip off now. Neither can we undo our past, nor can relive the good old days. We write because we wish to cherish,to protect,to reconnect with what has gone by.  Equally enticing is the future. Full of fantasy and glamour. An illusion that would soon become an overwhelming present. We write so that one day our dreams might become a reality. Writing will give them a  semblance of reality;of life; of truth. It is written. It must be true. It should happen. It must happen. We w...

Rich aroma of coffee fills the kitchen. Mum baking us a Walnut-Coffee cake. We step into the kitchen only to be driven out. We start a fight over the first bite. The first lick of the chocolate sauce as it flows into the tray. Munching off almonds in the guise of garnishing the cake. Coffee cake fights were Legen "wait for it" dary. And so was the cake, always. I try hard to make one now It's never late to learn to bake. Wish you all a Happy New Year!