Higher Up Hanuman Tekdi

It's been over a decade in Pune, and still, the city keeps me enchanted through the slow unraveling of its treasures.

A friend introduces me to Hanuman Tekdi over the weekend. It’s a place I've never heard of before. Strange, considering it lies within a 1km radius from my college. And to think that I’ve spent so much time in that general area, never knowing that somewhere down a random, nondescript road there, a little piece of heaven awaits…

Hanuman Tekdi is a little hill that rises between Fergusson College, BMCC and Symbiosis College. We approach the hill from the Senapati Bapat Road side, and begin our ascent here.

After a rather enjoyable climb, we reach this temple at the top of the hill. 

We get a fine view of the city from up here, too.

Beyond this point, the terrain is flat. The weather is cool, with a hint of rain, and all this makes for a very pleasant walk.

We continue along a well-worn trail winding its way through spindly trees, eventually leading to a large stone quarry.

We spend a while here, soaking up nature in all its raw beauty.

There's definitely something magical about the way the city sparkles with emerald fire after the Monsoon arrives.

It starts to get crowded after some time, though. This place is apparently very popular with fitness enthusiasts and many others who come here for the clean, open air and the view. We return to our car, parked at the foot of the hill, through another, easier route downhill.

Soon we are just one more vehicle speeding down a noisy, trafficky road, headed for home. My hands steer the car automatically, monotonously, through the wheeled chaos, but my mind is filled with the crisp freshness of the hilltop, and the serenity of the secluded open spaces that lie beyond.

Life, Infinite

For S.

Happy birthday.
With all my heart, and a song.

I Hope You Dance, by Ronan Keating

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leaves you empty-handed

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin' might mean takin' chances, but they're worth takin'
Lovin' might be a mistake, but it's worth makin'

Don't let some hell-bent heart leave you bitter
When you come close to sellin' out, reconsider
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

I hope you dance
I hope you dance
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along)
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
(Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder, where those years have gone?)

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance

Dance
(Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along)
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
(Tell me who wants to look back on their years and wonder, where those years have gone?)

Post 100: But Endings Are Inevitable

“There is a universal truth we all have to face whether we want to or not. Everything eventually ends. As much as I’ve looked forward to this day, I’ve always disliked endings. The last day of summer, the final chapter of a great book, parting ways with a close friend...

But endings are inevitable.

Leaves fall, we close the book, you say goodbye. Today is one of those days for us. Today we say goodbye to everything that was familiar, everything that was comfortable. We’re moving on. But just because we are leaving, and that hurts, there are some people who are so much a part of us, they’ll be with us no matter what. They are our solid ground, our north star, and the small clear voices in our hearts that will be with us. Always.”

- Alexis Castle, from her graduation speech in Castle S4E23

I started this blog because something ended. Something that makes me believe that everything happens for a reason. And that while we may doubt or question those reasons at that time, because nothing makes any sense just then, there are always answers that visit us later - just as surely as there is always something better that follows. All we have to do is wait with patience...

Because all endings, are also new beginnings. 

Fly, Fly Away, Bye Bye

This was the view from my balcony in 2008. 

Here's what greets me now. 

This is just one tiny example of so-called civilization extending its greedy arms, grabbing every inch of vacant, green land, and staking its claim over it through an ugly profusion of concrete and steel. But the loss of natural beauty is nothing compared to some other irreparable losses...like the disappearance of the birds. 

Earlier, the rainclouds brought with them numerous species...mostly those looking for a waterhole to park by. I would observe them from my balcony, sitting with a hot cup of tea, and my camera, close at hand. Soon, I could identify the birds, and recognize their birdcalls and peculiar habits.

Pond Herons ambled lazily alongside the water’s edge, hardly ever taking flight. Kingfishers and Black Ibis' were surprise guests!

There were Red-wattled Lapwings that descended here during the rains, and adopted the land. These cheeky birds teased and bullied the stray dogs that marked their territory here as well. 

Cattle Egrets walked daintily alongside the numerous cows and buffaloes that grazed here, and it was entertaining to watch the Cormorants disappear under the surface of the water, only to emerge a good distance away, just a few seconds later!

These birds showed up without fail every rainy season, and I waited for them each year, as soon as the first showers broke over the city.

But this spectacular window into nature began to shut slowly when the excavators and bulldozers started arriving. They relentlessly dug up the ground, and now, an ugly, brown and grey landscape has replaced those refreshing greens. Where there was once fresh, clean air and the melodious chirping of birds, there is now dust, sweat and noise.  

This year, only two Red-wattled Lapwings showed, looking for their familiar haunt. They couldn't have liked the sight that greeted them...heavy machinery, cement dust, the loud, monotonous construction sounds, and dry waterholes, filled with discarded pieces of wood and steel rods. They left the same day, and haven't returned since…much like the other birds, which I never saw after the last Monsoons.

There are other birds that inhabit this area. But most of their homes are now either firewood, or holding up the roofs of the houses we live in. 

 

The sparrows have mostly gone, and I wonder if these birds will someday fly away too...
And if they do, then we will have no one to blame, except ourselves.

Maybe we can’t stop people from tearing down trees and we can’t stop the birds from flying away to greener pastures. But what we can do for starters, no matter how insignificant it might seem in the light of bigger things, is to plant a tree, in a small attempt to woo them back, and to return some of the joy that they so generously give us.

Shifting Patterns

Raindrops create intricate, shifting patterns on my window...delicate silver streaks that twist and meander, joining other silver lines for the briefest moment, before finding their own gleaming, downward path again. I watch, mesmerized, wondering if this is how lives intersect in the canvas that is life. And then, those memories return...

Maybe someday, when you look at the random patterns the rain paints on your window, you'll remember too...

The endless, agonized waiting, before a brave smile merged the course of two lives...the love that wove itself slowly through unending conversations and interlocked fingers during stolen hours...the fragile hope that grew stronger and more impatient with each passing day...that blind faith in forever.

Someday perhaps, you'll wonder too, about that exact moment when happiness had begun to fray...When the boundless possibilities dwindled to a handful of tokens, waiting to be discarded or destroyed in hurt and helpless fury...

The diamond raindrops continue to beat down on the glass...noisily, relentlessly, mercilessly. But the rain will end and the sun will stream its brilliant, golden rays through the same glass, washed clean of yesterday's dust and regret. Maybe then, we'll understand, that our dreams were meant to intertwine, but briefly, and acknowledge, that with its continuous, forward momentum, life goes on...

Except on some moist, grey days, like today, when the rain paints patterns of the past on the window.

____________________________________________________________________

And a piece by Alexandre Desplat, The Meadow. 

And the Award for Best Mom Goes To...Not Me.

Me: Breakfast's ready! Come, eat!

The Kid: This? Don't I get options?

Me:  Sure you do sweetie! :) Eat it or starve.

Me: Boy, eat your cornflakes before it gets all soggy!

The Kid: But I don't want this for breakfast!

Me: Fine, have it for lunch, then.

Someday probably, he'll take over being the smarty-pants in the family. But until that time...muahaha.

East India & Company

I’d known it’d be hot, but I wasn’t quite prepared for the sticky, suffusing 44°C heat that greeted us in Jamshedpur. After the 37°C in Pune that I had whined as being oh so hot, this was like jumping from the frying pan into the fire. But that’s tropical summer for you, I guess.

Jamshedpur reunited us with family, and showed us some things new, some things pretty, some places old and some places nostalgic. I got to spend a few, unhurried sunset moments by the confluence of the Subarnarekha and Kharkai Rivers - my favourite place in the town, and at Jubilee Park, where illuminated fountains lit up the late evening skies with their refreshing colours.

We travelled to Kolkata next, and though it was relatively less hot, it was definitely more humid. But there was so much here that made the noisy, dusty, yellow-death-cab-filled-city, fun for me. 

Rating highest perhaps was a delectable lunch at Flury’s, a place I associate with childhood memories, warm, mouth-watering flavours and the feeling that I’ve stepped into a different era. 

The Victoria Memorial was well worth a visit, and we spent a large part of the evening on its manicured lawns. 

Princep Ghat and the Vidyasagar Setu Bridge spanning the Hooghly River were impressive, both beautifully lit and standing out against the inky black of night. 

We might’ve visited a lot more places in Kolkata if we’d had more time, and if it hadn't been so hot, and I guess the holiday might have been more enjoyable if this had been November, and not May. But in the end, the joy of meeting the people you love far outweighs the discomfort the weather inflicts on you. So while I’m back in Pune, enjoying (and appreciating) its cooler climate, what comes to mind isn’t the sweltering heat, the sweat and the endless, blazing sun in the east.

I remember instead, the sharp aroma of mustard seeds sputtering in hot mustard oil, the sweetness of fluffy, white rasgullas, the warmth of shared laughter and conversations with loved ones over endless cups of tea, the places and people that I hold fondly in my thoughts...

And I bring home with me, the assurance of prayers and whispered blessings of the family elders, and reasons to return, another day. 

Missing

You can’t always keep the people you love, in your life. But there’s always this – you can keep them, forever, in your heart. 

Eric Clapton, with Autumn Leaves.

Here I Am. This is Me

Age doesn’t make us forgetful. Having way too many stupid things to remember makes us forgetful.
(Profound internet truth that i have called upon in my defense)