Sunday, October 07, 2007


The music flows through my veins. I feel like Ganga, tranquil on the top but hiding a storm within. The cold choppy waters on the surface flow, rushing as if to meet someone waiting on the otherside, seive through my fingers as I bend over the side of the boat." Mem saheb shambhal ke,'' the voice of the boatman brings me back to the present. This is Hrishikesh and I let the magic, the mystery of Ganga flow through me. I let her enter me and pass through me, in turn acquainting me to the life of Ganga. I sit calm, let the biting cold water wash through me, wash my soul. This should have left me clean of my sins, isn't this the purpose of bathing in Ganga. And here I let her enter me. No! for me Ganga came in altogether different purpose. As her waters entered me, she whispered in my ear, " be like me. Let me take over you." And I let her. Ganga said," my water wash your dreams. Here see me. I am calm on the surface but dive into me and see how many lives I have hidden in my womb." Srilata died young and her husband immersed her ashes in Ganga. "But Srilata live in me even now. Look she wants to dress up as a newly wed bride, scented flowers woven in her hair, anklets tingling in her feet, bright red henna adorning her hands and feet. Pure white silk saree caressing her body." And then there is Ram Bahdur who wants to see his son grow up," I let him do that. Each year his son comes to my shores to pray for his fathers departed soul. And as Ram Bahadur's son dips his hand in me to pray, Ram Bahadur comes close to his son,'' says Ganga. " Lets flow together," tell me Ganga and I take water in my hand and stroll along. But what is this, its been just few steps that we have taken and all I have is a wet hand. I turn to look back, the sand beneath my feet rubs in between my toes. I look longingly at Ganga and she smiles back but flows on. There is another tale unfolding at the banks of Ganga.

Monday, April 02, 2007


It has been four months that I have stayed away and today a friend's mail helped me find my way back. So here is a big thanks to my friend first.

As I try to sift through my thoughts, searching for these little things that I want to share I find so many little butterflies flying inside me. No these are no butterflies in my stomach but little colourful thoughts, all so beautiful, all so very personal. And the most beautiful is Sidharth.

So here he is. Sidharth completed his first year in a normal school. At the end of the session I was given this report card which said, `promoted as per ability'. Along with the report card came a host of other comments. But what intrigued me the mostand continues to do till date is that Sidharth's psychologist has found his, `type of mind,' as `unsure mind'. This set me thinking.

It is one thing that Sid is very sure of his mind at times to the limit of madness. This apart do we need to regiment our brains to be sure. How would that be sure, fixed, straight, minds. What about creativity ? How will Sid learn to spread his wings and fly towards the sky if he has a sure mind. For a sure mind would know that humans do not have wings to fly.