The Legend of the Elephant God Ganesha VII
Ganesha smiled at his parents with such warmth that it touched Parvati’s heart. ‘It does not matter, Mother. The two of you are my world and I have already encircled you. My journey is complete.’
All posts filed under: Maharashtra
Will of The God-The Greatest Indian Short Story Ever
It was the year end night. Some friends had come over to celebrate. I had also called my brother-in-law who is an Investigating officer and an entertaining storyteller but seemed not quite himself that night. He stood alone, in dark, looking down dreamily with a tilted glass, now empty. I walked over and asked playfully if he was regretting over missing a shot at a culprit. Thankfully, he had his wit intact. He beckoned me to come out of the room. “What’s the matter Rana? I asked.” We walked towards the balcony. Bhaiya, in the noontime today, a doctor came over to the office and he narrated a story, and ever since I have heard his tale, I do not know what to make of it. Really? What is it? What happened. Rana spoke with passion as he does and just like the doctor he spoke in first person; I started my first job at a hospital in Alibaug. Each case provided me with new knowledge more than my books. Every patient even now teaches …
When a wedding found me travelling in Mumbai
It was then my first visit to Mumbai. And hence everything i was laying my eyes on went deeper than only seeing. I was hearing, more. Walking more. A place that promises light to your dreams ever since you earned consciousness, a place known for many a rags to riches story. Famous or infamous for world’s second largest Film Industry. I was there looking at every action, motion, observing how people move, react, are. Yet, I hadn’t been able to go out much then in Mumbai. One thing that i had loved walking in mumbai were the dairy shops where you would get Chai from the fresh milk. So one day while having malai/cream chai at a milk dairy I had started having a liking for, only because there was a beautiful big peepal tree I could sit under. And secondly. unlike in north India where there is milk a plenty but there is no way you can sit and enjoy different variations of milk in a dairy shop. Mumbai seemed to be bathing in …
The Lovers Of Aurangabad
Where are the lovers? The ones who roamed and flew kisses at each passing nightingale; that one who promised me the movies and photographs 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 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 crossing, she yelled out loud saying I detest this urban theatre, Every one is a clone of the other. Look a likes, inside …
The Great Indian HitchHike to Remember
I could well be passing my worst night. I had missed my fastest express to home, and was barely left with enough money to buy tickets again. Evening was around, I decided to reach the highway and do what i had never done. I started asking passing by truck drivers for a lift. As time passed and no one stopped, uneasiness was creeping in. I hadn’t done anything like it before. But I kept telling myself that if nobody stops I will rest at a temple or the next dhaba i may find. After a considerable time suddenly a big truck passed and seemingly started slowing down. It must have stopped 100 meters ahead. I ran. It looked strange at first sight for such a big thing stopping, for me!! It was a sixteen-wheeler trolley. Empty. I got in. There was only one small, frail person, the driver sitting. He was lanky, and looked too young to be driving anything like this. Also he looked grim, bit sad and may be in shock. Apart from …
In love with Sipna
Sipna Art Residency, was a very memorable time. Very precious days and nights amongst the oldest tribes living on the border of Madhya Pradesh and Maharashtra. Where two quiet rivers meet. Tapi and Sipna right in the centre of India.There arrived many other artists from India and Europe carrying various skills. The residency happened in the last 10 days of December. The days were sunny and nights damn cold. We were many together. Everyone skilled in their practises. There were painters, sculptors, Architects, local artists, farmers, Photographers, Dancers, Performers and also artists who worked with bamboo and one who worked on making murals in water. We were living somewhere deep in the jungle of teak. Probably in some village on the other side of Melghat Tiger Reserve. The river Sipna dancing like a snake crawled through picturesque landscape cutting the old plateau. big, small naturally sculpted rocks. There lived an old sage somewhere along the river by the jungle. I remember him because in his hut stayed a one peacocks, three peahens, a cows, a …
ROAD TO NARA 