All posts tagged: Blogging

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. Every time I felt tired or exhausted. When body felt like breaking up, lethargy, uneasiness or just plainly feeling low crept up. I always 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 …

The Red Cambodian Bed

  I had been walking for last two days. But did not really reach anywhere. At the same time It took two days to understand two parallel road that looked similar and after reaching a circle went different ways. It took me time to understand two important Khmer words like Susrai/hello and okun/thank you. I finally decided to rent a cycle with city tyres. I think I have spent all day today roaming around the outskirts of Siem Reap and then sometimes away towards the urbanised rural area, and sometimes cycling far away along the river to Tonle sap and towards the country side. There are still days when i will be meeting my mentor for the workshop, but all this roaming is only to embrace as much information and varied subjects so as to present to the teachers what we will be working on as a project in Cambodia dedicated to Cambodian people, at least that is how i thought i would like to work. I am feeling so happy and so free in …

The measure of happiness

In one of my travels a sage asked me, what is the measure of happiness? I tried guessing but I wasn’t close ? Measure? I could only ask back if it can be measured. As I softly asked him to please stop smiling, and enlighten me. He took his time. And said the true measure of happiness is the average sum of sunrises and sunsets a man sees divided by the days of life. Sometimes it feels inappropriate but it is kind of apt.

Teachers Day is also a Mother’s day

Teachers day is somehow another Mother’s Day. Because mother is our first teacher. First person who taught us love, and taught us how to everything on earth. It was a good day at school. Children had come becoming as new as wise. They had come wearing dresses of teachers. Its fifth class’s last year at school. Children grow at a rate of moon cycle. Its a shame we don’t have enough space to add at least three more classes. Our’s is a primary school. I was only thing that we enthuse our love, our energy and resources shaping and giving them the best of foundations but leaving school as early as VIth standard. It is hard for children to change their patterns. Who knows how much disciplined and caring the newer school be. For us, we feel to at least bring our classes till VIIIth so that you can shape those children better and further holding onto those ideas, creativity and empathy for humankind and for nation a bit longer. Every day, every year is …

Walking in Varanasi

– All say i have gone on my mother, slanting slope with a dead end like nose, high cheekbones, eyes watching from a socket, paler complexion. Today when i lied beside her listening, i saw a few lines sketched around her lips, tight forehead, intense she looked, and looked old. I leave for Kashmir the day after for a month and wanted to post this write-up which i wrote six months ago on the ghats of Benaras. I am drunk tonight. … Holi city, indeed Crowded by boredom Of new and the old Japanese is written on the walls, Telugu, Gujrati, Hindi, Marwari and deity of the falling doll, Walls are tall as lanes are narrow concluding steps Going towards the flow Ganga looks like one today The sun is shining on the polluted dark A bark flows with the river, with a free body, swelled liked a shapeless balloon Him, crows are murdering more. But the noon is calmer here, they say, river trudges up from there background chantings and prayers from sound systems …