Month: July 2020

The Paradox

Who is observing the observer? Are you in front of the camera or behind it ? Or are you it ? Do you realize the change Changing? We walked up to the oldest virgin man. The sevak of shiva sitting on a hill, under a bright summer sun. His skin had earned blocks of pentagon, shaped into numerous lines criss-crossing his whole body. Once wrinkles turned into scales, crafted like on a snake’s skin. For a moment when he stood, I moved and touched that skin. But it felt nothing like it instead it was soft as wool. We walked seven steps together and then he sat in the shadow, near few men who had come from the nearby village, singing. He was humorous. He looked at Maharaj ji and told him that you look older than me! abhi bhi dum lagate ho? Do you still smoke Chillum? And started laughing at his own prank. But when he did, i could see through his mouth till his almost neck, bereft of any bone. wide, narrow, dry and …

To a Monsoon Wedding and a Rare Feast –III

After Kaushik and I experienced our first monsoon thunder, together under this Divine Tree, I knew that home was calling. I was already on an extended journey here in Bengal, but incessant downpour set me up for long at Kaushik’s home in Jhargram. One evening when rain took a brief break, I went out on a short walk towards the local football park where i had played five days ago, where I was welcomed by millions of frogs playing music  in the recently grown pond. During one of those rainy nights Kaushik received a phone, where his friend invited him to his sister’s wedding. I got excited and we decided to leave, with a condition. His friend asked us to reach by the daylight. We started from here in time, but rain and bad road took all day to reach a place from where we had to wait for the jeep to the village. It was a strange place. There were many people but there was almost no sound. I didn’t see almost anyone talking …

Growing together at 500 : A Return Gift

Big hello, To each one of you, fellow bloggers. It’s not even two complete months since i am writing continuously on ROAD TO NARA; and to see, to touch this milestone of having 500 close knit friends, comes as the most fulfilling feeling. Probably one of the happiest decisions i made to make it all public in these serious Covid Times. Each and every day has been overwhelming with the amount of comments, likes, stories that you expressed and poured out your love on the blog, through various questions, views, queries, praises, some beautiful surprises in mails that i have got and few friends that i have found on this journey. I am not only thankful but owe this day to you all. Knowing that it is only a start. And that the family should only grow. Few friends here suggested that ROAD TO NARA must have a Facebook presence outside of WordPress dedicated to the blog. So, here i thought of a declaration. Whomsoever reads this, you are heartily welcome to join on this …

The Lovers

Where are the lovers? The ones who roamed and flew kisses at each passing nightingale; that one who promised me the movies and stilts on the Valentines. I haven’t seen none and I don’t think one would come, instead i called him last night, in my sleep. His year began with a cold shower last valentines morning, of course it was February, of course it was cold. For many years he dismissed the day of love by saying saint valentines’s mother was a pagan and did not believe in Christ herself, rather was in love with a tree outside her home. So he, my boyfriend decided to love a tree that stood outside their home. You know trees also have gender right! Also because his mother would rebel of even thinking about going outside, once she was walking on a street, and just when she reached at the centre of a four way, she yelled out loud saying I detest this urban theatre,  Every one is a clone of the other. Look a likes, inside …

Sunshine Blogger Award – I : Q and A

Well, this happened, my first award, and I thank dear KrishnaPriya, for forwarding this space and allowing me to take all my time. As many people know that it has only been very little time that i am here but this community, her people, the communication, appreciation and lifting everyone up is overwhelming here. So we are all shining like sun together, this is for all of us. Bur first of all, I request everyone to visit Krishnapriya’s quaint blog, the one who nominated me here – Krishnapriya. She has studied Sanskrit and writes about all the little happiness’s that life presents us. THE SUNSHINE BLOGGER AWARD IS GIVEN TO THE BLOGGERS WHO INSPIRE POSITIVENESS AND CREATIVITY IN THE BLOGGING COMMUNITY. I am happy to accept my first blogger award in exchange for the questions she designed for me to answer. Here we go – Which is your favorite book/movie? One of the two I would say; my all time favourite book has been Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse How are you spending your leisure time?  Well, …

Love in Himachal Pradesh

Lets start from where we ended. For twenty-seven nights, I was the only one living in a wooden balcony that hung facing the jungle on a whole mountain. The red moon that I saw on the forehead of a mother in the village down, i saw a similar one on my lover. But her eyes were set against the only window the first night. Pink walls. She told me she wants to scream. Now! I said. She smiled. Fire. She kept looking in my eyes and started screaming. I closed my mouth. And opened my eyes. It was winters. It was cold. And you know when it is winters and when it is cold how heavy the rains hit. It confuses the heart. It was sunny next day. Pluto arrived. Nara, let’s go meet the man who sneezes forty times. He does that once daily. We left our two limping dogs behind. It was a beautiful walk. We reached. We sat outside Daulat Ram’s home in his garden on uncomfortable plastic chairs. An old brown …

One monsoon in Bengal – II

After hiding under the monsoon tree i had thought of home and had felt at that moment home is calling. Bengal had become love filled for me because of Kaushik. I was living, moving in the rural country around his village as he wished to. We reached his home thinking i will take the evening bus to calcutta but the moment we arrived at his place it started drizzling and it did not stop raining for next four days to come. Here I am writing from Kaushik’s village home in Jhargram. Its night. Light has come after nine hours. I have cooked six packets of maggie with peas and potato. We both will eat it all tonight. Kaushik has gone to get McDowell’s for himself. Its my last night. We are partying. Meanwhile, I posted that letter to M. Something happened. Let me share this. it was magical – I am fortunate to have spent a memorable time during west Bengal monsoons. The blue sky behind the clouds had slept and drizzling took a break from firmly falling …