All posts tagged: Art

The day of the U-Turn

I offered Cynthia Tea, when she said “I am sorry, I am still not Indian’ and asked me to come up and look at the lines on her table. The table had a beautiful map. And this map sounded fulfilling. It had the river Indus, a path that will leave the road behind and lead to a narrow canyon. I must take that. And walk for an hour or two to the village of TAR where Cynthia’s best friend lives, in a cave like kitchen, where Ibex’s and snow leopards come sometimes to say hello. I left. In between late and very late. Almost not sure. Not excited. On my Himalayan but something felt missing the whole day. More motivation ! No. What had I thought and where am I leading myself to. The path seamed contrasting in my head. And Just before getting close to half the way to Chilling, I u-turned from the gorgeous bridge over Zanskar and rode back like I wasn’t riding. Faster, anxious as one gets after getting a temporary …

Here we go again

We all say that to ourselves. The question is: when do you say it? Do you say it when you are being rejected, failing, stuck, panicked, overwhelmed or alone? Or do you say it when you’re engaged, winning, changing things and are in the groove? Because the more you rehearse this feeling; this saying, the more it’s going to happen. We get what we expect. And we expect what we get. The easiest way to change this cycle is to alter the scale we play in. If you keep failing at the big stuff, it’s worth honing the habit of succeeding at the small stuff first. And if you’re finding yourself in a rut, a cycle of failure, walk away from that series of projects and find a new field to plant your seeds in.

Play a sport

Many a times when body starts feeling the temperature, it starts affecting every other small action, as simple as interaction. But there is one thing that has worked for me since my teenage years, when every time I felt tired or exhausted. Body felt like breaking up, lethargy, uneasiness or just plainly feeling low. I called up a friend and played a sport. Probably sweating it out, screaming, shouting and expressing every other emotion that comes with it. I learnt playing Table tennis only a few years ago and since then it has only added dimensions the way my body reacts while moving, watching the spin of the ball, or the moment when you know it has to be smashed. It has always been an exciting mix of playing serves with different arms of various nationalities and minds. It has made conversations start and built observations. It is as good as chess and as fast as instinct. I lost four games out of seven today but by the time it ended, my body ache was …

The Chain

Cambodia has started to settle inside. It is hot. It is winters. Busy. Open. Moving slowly moving. Women are seen carrying diverse forms in small ranges. Many have come out of their regions. Smiling. Warm. Seim Reap. Cambodians have a strong family sense. Rafael is a good man. He is divorced. I met a woman cycling and then we cycled together to the river. She is going through her divorce too. Ben with whom I played ping pong yesterday sat in gloom. It was a hugh dip in energy from last night. I walked up to him just like that to say hi. He was in the English Navy. He told me he had never gone to India but assured me that he thinks he spent three months under ground in Indian Ocean not far from India. Then one day he got hit by Psoriasis Vulgaris and boom ! Boom !Psoriasis is a skin disorder that causes skin cells to multiply up to 10 times faster than normal. I could not sit, I could not sleep,.I …

From the red bed

Day 3 I had been only walking for last two days. But was not really reaching anywhere. At the same time It took two days to understand rials, few words like Susrai and okun. I finally got a red cycle with city tyres. I saw and I kept throwing myself towards cycle eversince I got it, sometimes away, sometimes along the river and towards the country side. I found out about a school there not so far from the siem reap. I met Frank who joked about himself not being abusing boys in school where he teaches English. I met prom at his place after I had finished playing table tennis and lost all the matches to a proud Australian man. I started a conversation with prom on the big yellow couch on culture here and neighborhood. About the government and corruption. But in the middle of it all he started crying. He gave me the number of wortha, who will answer all my questions. Back home children went for an outing at an art …

Getting to you

Sometimes from somewhere a may be comes. Now may be is hope. It is told to you if you can run till a point you might catch what you are seeking. The time is limited. You have no idea of the way. Your resolve at first will be far from achieving it. But in the now you start running. But you realize that light has started getting darker. The steps are uneven. Some slopes. Some roses with thorns of autumn. Some puzzles to make the way interesting. If you then just gain that rhythm of not merely running but enjoying the performance of just being. Using body and mind just as a tool. That when you will even reach. There will be no one to clap. But the rewards are going to be so multiple from all the oxytocin that you created with your thoughts, with your lungs. That whole space will start treating you as you are his own. Quietly.