Smile...
Somehow i have stopped smiling.Like innumerables in Bangalore today i have simply stopped feeling.Like the ad goes if you were to describe yourself in a song,what would you use? I would say -Numb.Where are my days of endless chats with friends,where is the feeling of adrenaline rush at the prospect of something new, where z the excitement of tomorrow?Like David Brooks wrote in the NYT, i really feel my generation has been stuck in the odyssey age.The age where you are confused, try out double careers,where stability is seen as a comfort zone (and scoffed @)and the urge to move in and out of things happen more and more.And to add to David's perception where people have just simply stopped deriving happiness from simple pleasures.
Today is a sunday afternoon.When my mom recounts her days of youth on a sunday afternoon it almost has a surreal feeling today.Lying back in your bed,the Phillips record player playing Rhinestone Cowboy in the background and staring at the ceiling or endless discussions and arguments about almost everything under the sun with her siblings.I hardly see my sister.We hardly talk to each other.Its once in a year that i meet her.I miss what we used to share once.I miss those unaffected big laughs,never never ending chats.Are the bonds weakening?
Is all this worth for what i am pursuing?? Now all i think about is myself.My career.What i need to do next?I need to do better than the person next to me.I need to achieve standards.I set targets for myself and dream and strive to achieve those.Is that so bad?Why do i have to give up all i love for that?Why cant i have the best of both worlds?Why do mum and dad have to be away from me?Cant i have it all?
But today i am at that point where i cant give up my dreams.I just cant go back.But the heartache lingers that in the pursuit of dreams i am leaving behind so much..I wish i could have it all.
~Lara,the dreamer.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
Colours of Raigarh.......
Tapan returned home weary and tired.Another day went by without any business.Not a single piece of saree got sold today.His family had been in this business since time immemorial.His father,grandfather,great grandfather and time till you could trace back had all been saree merchants.His grandpa would tell him stories about how his ancestors would dress up the queens with their exquiste sarees.And how with change those sarees had come to adorn ordinary people as kings and queens fell with upheavels in history.Colorful patterns;floral designs, polka dotted,geometrical shapes was what he understood.His father would bring in rich quality yarns of cotton,chiffon,georgette when he was young.The smell of those fresh bales still stuck to his senses.He knew of no other trade than selling sarees.It was not simply a business for Tapan Rai anymore.It was his way of life.The village women would wait for him to make his weekly round when he came in with his cart and set up shop under the banyan tree that stood like the old guardian of the village.The gentle breeze would carry the whiff of new sarees and the excited women folk would come out in groups to the cart near the tree.The young womenfolk would be all abuzz with excitement.The older ones would chide the young ones at their restlessness but what everybody felt was the beauty of the colors,patterns and endless yards of cloth around them.But things were changing.
Life was not so colorful as the sarees that were laid out in Tapan's cart.The crowd was much smaller.The smiling and bright faces were not there.All he could see was a pall of gloom.A fear of what tomorrow brings.Crestfallen mourning faces.Red shrieking sirens in the air.A small sound would scare all.More than colors he could see the white on women.The village was empty of life and soul.The war had killed their spirit as it killed their loved ones.The wives,daughters,daughter-in-laws,mothers had to everyday bid goodbye to their sons,brothers,fathers.Coffins arrived in lots everyday.Heart rending cries echoed in the air.The empty souls showed in their empty eyes.His heart broke at the sight today.He called out to his wife as he stopped ruminating."Shradhaa";he said"Pack those white cloth bundles tomorrow.I need to go back to the village".
Tapan returned home weary and tired.Another day went by without any business.Not a single piece of saree got sold today.His family had been in this business since time immemorial.His father,grandfather,great grandfather and time till you could trace back had all been saree merchants.His grandpa would tell him stories about how his ancestors would dress up the queens with their exquiste sarees.And how with change those sarees had come to adorn ordinary people as kings and queens fell with upheavels in history.Colorful patterns;floral designs, polka dotted,geometrical shapes was what he understood.His father would bring in rich quality yarns of cotton,chiffon,georgette when he was young.The smell of those fresh bales still stuck to his senses.He knew of no other trade than selling sarees.It was not simply a business for Tapan Rai anymore.It was his way of life.The village women would wait for him to make his weekly round when he came in with his cart and set up shop under the banyan tree that stood like the old guardian of the village.The gentle breeze would carry the whiff of new sarees and the excited women folk would come out in groups to the cart near the tree.The young womenfolk would be all abuzz with excitement.The older ones would chide the young ones at their restlessness but what everybody felt was the beauty of the colors,patterns and endless yards of cloth around them.But things were changing.
Life was not so colorful as the sarees that were laid out in Tapan's cart.The crowd was much smaller.The smiling and bright faces were not there.All he could see was a pall of gloom.A fear of what tomorrow brings.Crestfallen mourning faces.Red shrieking sirens in the air.A small sound would scare all.More than colors he could see the white on women.The village was empty of life and soul.The war had killed their spirit as it killed their loved ones.The wives,daughters,daughter-in-laws,mothers had to everyday bid goodbye to their sons,brothers,fathers.Coffins arrived in lots everyday.Heart rending cries echoed in the air.The empty souls showed in their empty eyes.His heart broke at the sight today.He called out to his wife as he stopped ruminating."Shradhaa";he said"Pack those white cloth bundles tomorrow.I need to go back to the village".
Sunday, February 18, 2007
If astronomy is your cup of herbal tea, you can check this out....
The outer space simply fascinates me like any other of my kind....My attempt at picking up this fascination to a hobby with the sunday morning cup of coffee and one day maybe who knows what..Just like i would like to define death as a miscalculation of a fraction of a second i strongly define life as 'Opportunities'..Make the best out of it with whatever possible..
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