Myriad memories,vivid colours of a well spent life.My ultimate pleasure is going through old albums.Yes, that is never done at leisure but always when I do some spring cleaning and stumble upon these treasures.Oh oh, now all else is forgotten and I settle down to browse,remembering sweet incidents,pleasant memories.

There is this young girl,staring self consciously at the camera,a few with friends stiffly posing to preserve this moment for posterity .Most of those old photos were taken on special occasions- last day of school, a cousin's wedding,some rare events,when someone possessed the rare contraption-the camera! Sometimes copies were made and distributed in the group.One's own wedding of course was very very special and there were albums,totally chaotic with the photographer clicking away to fill two albums, most of the photos out of focus,unimaginative and many characters now not remembered.So these are not actually memorabilias. But still held on with pride and occupy precious space in the cabinets,in our hearts.

Cameras became  household objects when the children came.We needed to keep track,needed to remind ourselves  that these monsters were the cherubs of yesterday. I remember the beautiful Kodak because that was the one we could afford.Then came Minolta,later Yashica.Cameras improved,we evolved as photographers!But also the impatience when waiting to finish the film roll,resulting in some very silly shots,all the same could not be thrown because of the cost involved! Filling a few albums,very simple mini ones, with plastic pouches to protect the photos.Yeah,now these albums also became treasures to cherish.Still are. And then the photos became so many even to put inside the mini albums. . Slowly they were put inside plastic bags .When there were too many plastic bags ,they were placed inside cartons.Even today  these are instrumental in throwing one off balance regarding household chores.

This was a beautiful hobby for a long long time.Piles and piles of photos stacked in cartons,to one day open and fill one's mind with nostalgia.Over the years,all got chronologically mixed up.There would be the snap of my little grandchild smiling beautifuly,the next one my son in his school uniform and then my daughter's wedding attire-so on and so forth.Why? Because snaps were compared to "establish" family resemblances, finally when much time had been consumed in this activity,realising other chores were pending , put back every thing in one carton for the time being (?)and then forget about this for a long time.And repeat the same months later.

Now my four year old grand daughter can pose for the camera beautifully,dozens of photos clicked every day,not much is thought about preserving these and if they want to,they do it perfectly "on the net".Browsing done in an organised way because everything is labeled and sorted out.Times have changed for the better but not before taking away the sweet disorderliness which was so much more fun!

  


We had just moved from an idyllic place to Bangalore,each of us missing our former sprawling house,the greenery,the calm,relaxed life style.Yet it was good for the children,we consoled ourselves,for now they could go to prestigious schools,life in a city would give them a broader perspective on life and though reluctantly,we all settled slowly in our new environment.This was more than three decades ago.

I remember how difficult it was for the children to adapt to their new life,the comparitive lack of freedom to roam about,the very different school curriculum and I would spend hours explaining how all these would eventually  help to shape them better equipped to face the challenges of the world.I myself was not convinced.I missed all that I had enjoyed till then.But slowly, very slowly ,Bangalore got to me.I started looking around.There was so much to fall in love with this place too inspite of extreme differences in our routine life.There was so much of simplicity in the local people,the city clean and traffic very disciplined.Very soon I realised that all of us were going to be very happy here.

We weighed pros and cons of various places and Bangalore won hands down in our choice of a permanent home.We would not be far away from near ones, yet could have our individuality and yes,the atmosphere was congenial for the children to grow up with the right exposure to other cultures.I still remember my father telling  me years ago,growing up in Kolkata,"Be very proud of your roots.But never become cliquish.Be friendly with everyone."I tried to instil this in my children,I did not have to do much.They grew up having friends of many cultures.Till today,we all have friends everywhere,who add value to our lives.We happily bought our home and settled in Bangalore to live "happily ever after."Could we?
 We  are  greatly disturbed that in times of crises,we are still outsiders.Looked down upon as people who grabbed a piece of earth in "their" land.We proudly proclaim that we are Bangaloreans but pained when we are not accepted by "natives".All because some people who have somehow become powerful,not always because of their merit,fan animosity between two very good neighbours.During stressful times,they become successful.We all stay indoors,fearing the worst.Constantly wondering "are we in an enemy country that is not rightfully ours?"

I know that we have made a right decision.No regrets.We will never be  ready to exchange our Bangalore to any other heavenly place in this world .There are elements out there trying to create doubts.But they are few,they are everywhere.We are fortunate that we are happy for the major part of our lives.A few days of horror cannot take away the contentment that we have been wise to choose a good home in our lovely country,most of the time surrounded by simple,sweet people.I still dream of the golden days before cheap politics set in,dividing good friends.Will we ever be able to have those sort of  days ever again?Or have we lost some precious values to self centred politicians,who in the name of governing,split people for their own gains?
                                  

                                                             DREAM



  I walk on and on.I do not know why I am going.Or where I am going I walk on because my mind is commanding me to. My heart is throbbing,I feel restless.Something is heavy in my mind .But impulsively I walk on.

Suddenly a dark,thick forest rises in the distance,welcoming me with its numerous trees and shrubs.Though it is somewhat frightening,I walk on and soon am amidst this dark forest.The trees stand waving their branches,as if to welcome me.Amongst their shadows,the sun occasionally shows off its inquisition by peeping through the thick leaves.And when there is a strong gust of wind ,it sees me in full and gives a radiant smile.

Even this does not cheer me and I walk on.Then I come to a meadow.A small creek runs gurgling over small rocks,happily whistling on its way.I am still melancholic,realise I am all alone in this wild forest.A shiver runs through my spine.I must go back.I try to hasten back.

But now my memory fails me-from where did I come from?Where to return now? I try to run but my legs are weak and I can only limp.I sweat,I cry and

I wake up to realise this is only a dream.
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I was a teenager when I wrote this.The diary's pages are crumbling.I have salvaged what I could ,in the manner I thought was right.

         
 My "blogs" of a different kind


On contemplating serious matters such as the existence of God, I feel perplexed.I somehow donot understand the inveterate practices so reverently followed by almost all sections of people,be they great or small. When I hear grandiloquent speeches on the glories of God,I never fully appreciate them,for I feel they lack depth and sincerity,leave me wondering "Are these great men who give such ornate orations ,adorned   with  high sounding phrases,as intellectual as they pose to be?Can they give extemporaneous  speeches,on the Lord they praise and worship in a heartfelt, simple manner, which will touch the simple people they address to,understand better?"

My attitude towards religion is different and those who glorify age old ,pompous religious practices may scorn at my views.I am not an apostate nor am I a theist the way people define that word.I believe in a supreme power that  reigns over us,some call God and I call it destiny.I am not able to comprehend the concept of confining this power in a small space and declare that is ITS domain.Maybe someday,these advocates of idolatry will be able to understand what I say.
               
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Yeah ,this was a very young girl's view to be different and daring!Yet she could  not be much different because of the pressures of the society she lived in.Without compromising much,yet bowing down to dear and near ones' sentiments,she has successfully held on to certain of her values.

Above was an entry in a diary I had kept in my late teens.It is amazing that my views have remained the same though I might have been pliable on occasions lest I hurt the dear and near ones around me.Ah,yes,I would now use much simpler words,less rigid in my views!
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Blogging

 I set out on this seemingly wonderful journey of "Blogging",with imaginations of penning down regularly all my experiences,establishing worthy contacts on the way,spending some interesting hours in a hobby which would keep me fruitfully occupied.Yes,all these are true indeed but why is that I don't bring myself to do this more often?

Starting from my teenage years,I have kept diaries- never recording my day to day mundane activities but more as a vent to my emotions and in the absence of a close,dear friend in whom I could pour out my innermost thoughts,my diary served this void,it became my soulmate.Pages and pages of a silly girl's silly thoughts do not deserve to be treasured even by people who dote on her and alas! some masterpieces were lost,some torn up and thrown into wastepaper bins by the author herself! Some which escaped this unholy treatment,survived years in attics,in some cartons,dusty &worn out probably because of some important landmark event,which made me hesitate a bit to shred them and found their way into some forgotten corner.But when opened years later still brought some happiness recollecting events of a bygone era.

Then came the computers,the NET & transformed our lives.Some of us did not understand the nittygritties of this electronic age.Were taught again and again by our youngsters, only to get totally muddled ,much to the consternation of the young teachers,who were aghast with such ignorance-why are people so thorough in their fractions and decimals,not able to grasp minor concepts?Yea,slowly I did learn,now atleast to blog.All the nonsense  that I feel  odd to share with someone,the things that I am not sure that anyone will be willing to listen to,I can now put down in a blog.But are they really unseen?Like my old diaries? There maybe a few who snigger at such trivia .But I don't care,I can't see them, right?! 

Now &Then

  I almost feel jealous on seeing the multi tasking youngsters of today.I admire their abilities to handle any situation so effortlessly,seemingly unaffected by adversities.They look cool,they dress well,undaunted by the challenges they face everyday.There is no gender bias-the wife equally,if not more,qualified as her husband,holding prestigious jobs,driving their own vehicles to work,sharing household chores with her husband,Oh,to me all this is so romantic,out of a fantasy.I cannot forget the days when I took driving lessons from ,who else? my hubby,who got too jittery letting me drive his new (second hand)car,I got too offended by his remarks and stares, that I gave up my desire to drive my "own " vehicle.Could not look cool either ,with  the daily chores seemingly unending and my two little ones driving me up the wall most of the time,

I belong to a generation when the fathers went to 9 to 5 jobs,mothers slogged in the kitchens and looked after the children.There were a few who tried to break this convention but they were exceptions.I wanted to do something different but did not want to break any convention,so ended up a mess.Not chic and sophisticated enough nor bow down to age old norms.Hence my jealousy at the youngsters-how I wish I had more favourable circumstances,how I wish I had done this? how I wish I had done that?

I belonged to a generation when children either walked to school or went by bus,rat race not known yet,returned home to frolic and then do a little home work ,a calm restful,delightful dinner with parents and reading a book at night.Yes,this was the time we all looked forward to.Parents made the decisions for us-higher studies,marriage.We totally trusted them to make the right choices,for they had many more fruitful years behind them.And then our lives moved on like a passenger train.No regrets till we saw these youngsters.Now I feel jealous of them for being so independent ,their free will,their confidence.

Mine was a generation when parents put in their best years toiling, to buy that piece of furniture,the second hand car, a roof over  their heads. Their dreams sometimes turned nightmares when expenditure exceeded income.Youth was spent running after mirages.No time for romance,no time for fun,no time for leisurely holidays.Today's youth start their life earning what we could not even dream of ,all major expenditure well planned out,not so much dreaming but taking each step with caution and acumen.I did not,could not do that.And I am jealous of them for being so wise.

Yet I will not exchange the experiences that I have had for all the gold in this world.Going to school was fun,just running around and playing cricket with friends on the road was happiness,spending the evening listening to Binaca Geet mala was thrilling,the slow pace of life that allowed us to enjoy things around us,gave us a wisdom that no book could have given ,.I moved from that age ,through to this,from a single ,huge Radio in one corner of the house to present day Television ,when I constantly flip through channels and entertain myself .Ofcourse I read a book at night.My life has seen both ends,I have been very happy then and I not only enjoy life now but admire my youngsters and feel happy for them.(sometimes I do feel jealous too!!)

These are some of my favourite things!

  Yes,I'd like to sing like Julie Andrews- "girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes" or "snow flakes that fly on my nose and eyelashes"but alas!no such fanciful experiences for me.I dont get to see girls in bright dresses nor have I been lucky to see snow flakes!I do have certain things that touch my heart on a daily basis,starts my day on a serene note ,carries me through the day bringing cheer ,lifting up sagging spirits to push me on to continue what I do.

The day starts on a simple note -I like the silence,the stillness of surroundings,when I sit in the balcony immersing myself in the nothingness.The sky is a dark grey,down in the streets lights flicker and it is chilly.Covering myself in a quilt,sitting alone is one of my most favourite "activity" to begin the day.Then, pink stripes appear in the sky auguring the arrival of our life giver shortly.Birds start chirping,flip flap around getting ready for their morning,few people are busy, some walkers have started their morning routine.And then I hear the muezzin's call ,loud and clear from the nearby mosque ,summoning the faithful for prayers.This is how the day begins for me,my most favourite time of the day.And then ofcourse,the steaming ,foaming cup of coffee ,that brings briskness to plunge into the days' chores.

Pure,classical music over the radio or on TV can do wonders too ,acts like a stimulant.I love my own learning sessions with my dear teacher and friend,the hour or so spent so purposefully, at the end of which I feel rejuvenated.The prayers are said ritualistically,temples are visited regularly.But the musicians who sing soulfully are the ones who take me nearer to the bliss, divinity supposedly brings.On a day,when the chores have piled up,the house a mess and I donot know where to begin ,listening to music or better still ,singing full throatedly uplifts my spirits and I am ready for the day.

All this does not necessarily mean I am lofty in my likings and care only about spiritual aspects of life.not at all- I like old Hindi film songs, Mohammed Rafi and Asha Bhonsle,Shah Rukh Khan films,some TV serials that I watch regularly,women who dress and carry themselves beautifully,little childrens' chatter,yes, girls who walk past in their pretty dresses,my own little ones' tinkling laughter,all these add colour to my life.

But above all is a good book with which I can recline without a care in the world, be it  James Michener or Han Suyin or Khaled Hosseini.They take me to different worlds,very different from mine,plunging me into a totally different mood,nomore bothered about my own mundane worries or ailments,transforming me into a different person now only concerned about the protagonists' course of life,for the short time that I can settle down with that book.That time,that interlude of peace that takes me to a different plane altogether,is my most favourite hobby.