The hint of a smell.

Have you ever travelled down the memory lane just by the hint of a smell. The smell of tadka and fresh made rotis take me back home. And it is hard not to remember my mom. How she struggled to teach me cooking. Constantly nagging me to get the perfect round roti. When I used to carry my books in kitchen, read aloud my lessons and make rotis in 11th std. And ending up making maps of non-existent countries. I still do curse my brothers for making fun of my rotis and never appreciating it when now I am a roti pro.

I must be too much of a foodie cause the next smell etched in my memory is that of my moms cake. I went to this random bakery shop, and it had its oven just backdoor, and there was this strong mixed fragrance of vanilla, baked floor, cinnamons, sweet hot vapours coming out of that door. The bakery still comes alive in front of my eyes, and I did compliment the owner that you have floored me long before buying anything, how he smiled generously and talked very warmly to me. That bakery shop transported me to our house where I was handyman of my mom when baking cakes. cleaning, clearing clutter, cutting things, at beck and call. Me and my family used to poke our noses 10 times in the oven to check if the cake is done or not. And the house was filled with warmth and sweet smelling spices.

The smell of wet grass, decaying leaves reminds me of my university days, when we went hunting for boundaries of our 2400 acres of university. Some wild spirit we had.

The smell of dry grass reminds me of hot summer. Scortching heat of southern India.

The distant smell of cold fresh breeze brings back memories of the cloudy skies, that soon transform there colors to darker shades of grey and then you see rain descending down. The rain lashes the earth and a hot puff of steam from the ground hits your senses. Soon you are surrounded by the earthen smell, the cloudy skies, the cold rain water. And it reminds of some long forgotten hard to recollect memory that leaves you sighing.

And my romance with smells continues, wanting for more.

In search of peace.

I was recently at a home decor expo with my friends. Time and again I have seen Buddha paintings at such expos and usual home decor shops. I always wondered when am I going to paint one. There is something about this painting that I always liked. And I know what it is. It brings a sense of peace to me whenever I look at those closed eyes and calm face. There was a vague idea if I could manage to get, even a hint of that peace in the painting I'l get some peace for myself.

Unsung forever

ther is a song, unsung in my heart.
i dont want to let it go,i dont wish it to die.
but with every passing day
i realize its going to die.
it is a wild song.
of birds who wanted to fly,
of the butterflies who didnt see the spring,
a song of the trees who couldnt reach the skies.

my song lies unsung
just as the heroes of the war,
those that died young.
not the war played at battlegrounds,
but those at every street and corner,
in homes and not always won.

a song that touches your soul
and brings loneliness to the heart.
tells you what are you deep down,
reminds you of the long forgotten,
fire burning in you.
but my song, is unsung
cause i fear, that when it is sung,
i will be left empty, more than i am now.

Back to the roots.

Every time i go back to my moms village i am taken back. I have been visiting that place for ages but it hasn't changed a bit. its still the same old village with no water supply. People still relying on well water and water from nearby dam which most of the time is dry. Nobody still has electricity and people rely on what is termed as there 'dokality', 'doka' meaning head in marathi. You would get the humor if you know marathi, else don't bother. But the 'dokality' here is that the farmers hook up a wire in the live wires running from poles and attach one to the connection in the switchboard and other in a copper plate which is dug deep in earth. Every time there is voltage fluctuation, they add water to the earth where the copper plate is dug. Which is highly risky off course. But the irrigation of crop plus house hold electricity comes from this sort of arrangement. I don't know what is the tax payers loss here. And the plight does not end here. There are no septic tanks no toilets. People have to relieve themselves in wastelands. Those were basic amenities that we take for granted in cities. Electricity. Water. Sanitation. But the most ridiculous thing is that they are not aware of how to store there own produce. The grains, the edibles everything that is grown on the farms is either sold out in cheap rates to middleman or let to rot. Part is foolishness part is lack of knowledge. A simple piece of knowledge as to how to store produce effectively causing huge losses. Not only financially but socially as well. The poorly paid farmers end up being frustrated, resort to drinking alcohol. There families suffer the village suffers the nation suffers. The village remains as it is for ages, lost.

A Salute

i was a terrible kid, who grew up with 2 brothers. who always asked me not to behave like a girl. well that was tuff on me. a girl not to behave as a girl. i was the class bully consistently for the 12 years of my schooling. in college i maintained the reputation by enrolling in NCC and well beating up cadets. i was into worst of fights. in my masters days i ended up again being center of controversy cause i managed to convice my 40 classmates that we should boycott our seniors. well i heard the worst musik of my life for that. so with all this history i have gelled more with boys in my life then girls. they are more willing being partner in crime then girls. and well some most lovely ladies who where ever they are, for sure will stand out of the crowd as unique :-) this all retrospection is cause my dear friend asked me to pen down my opinion on men. well that is a really hard one. at least for me who tends to over look the lighter side of things. but, well let me try my hand on this. this is for you dear sam.

i might not have seen this most beautiful transformation of a person from a very strict parent to the most loving person on this earth who sheds tonnes of tears for me, my dad. my humble salute to him and all the dads.

the growing up pangs. it is a difficult world for guys to grow up, is what i understood on seeing my younger brother grow. a salute to all guys for facing this world like a man.

the family responsibility. the bread earner. a huge percentage of families are still patriarchal. i have seen my elder brother struggle to become one. a salute to all the young men, who took there dads responsibility on there shoulders.

the assuring hug. i have been blessed with the greatest friend who hugged me purely for the fact that i am hes depressed friend and not cause i am a girl. i'l owe you that thoughtful hug all my life. a salute for the king sized heart.

the puppy face that guys make to act cute, i know what is coming after that, but i still should be true and say that i love it whenever they make one.

the lavish attention i am bestowed on where ever i go, all the free meals i got when ever i travelled, courtesy fellow male travellers ;-) and a big sorry for lying about my cell number and whereabouts.

my life. my choices.

There is this very funny thing. When people do certain things they think others should also do it. Like a friend getting engaged thinks that every bachelor around him or her should also get engaged. Or a person getting married thinks all around them should also be. I honestly think that this should have some kind of psychological scientific name. And if you haven't noticed till now I have written all spellings complete, no short cuts. This is more cause of an argument with a friend that people these days use all kinds of funny short cuts. Sometimes horrible ones that cant be deciphered at all. And the fact that people forget spellings once they take to these short cuts. That cleared, going back to our original topic, the fact that people think what is happening to them should happen to all or what is good for them is good for the other person as well. Or at times going to the limits of looking down at others for not accepting/making the same choice as they made. Why cant we make our choices on our own and not bother others with it. Others have their life and their commitments where your choices don't fit in. Why doesn't majority of mass have that simple basic understanding. Till they get that let me answer the endless questions, why don't you get you hair colored? the burgundy color on my hair is awesome(yep good like crow shit!!). Why don't you get lenses? mine are great(yep, I am falling in love with your fake eyes!!). You should try branded clothes they are ....(cut it!! I am not even listening to that one!!). You should eat at so and so place(you mean I should eat at a place that is 1000kms away from here, where I wont go even in the next decade...huh!!) you should get a boyfriend you know, your life sucks!!(sorry! who me!! smiles! smiles!! smiles!!! I give up!!!)..........

the gen X

i am part of a generation that can b called as generation of mails, generation of cell phones. we are the generation that grew on its own. we left our homes in search of education, n we got tortured in the alien world at an early age. we faced the competition in class, in hostel, in the lines to capture the bathroom,faced our wars little n big alone. and what did we gain with all this running around. A fat salary at an early age. A rented house, shared with unknown like ones. A cell phone and a broadband net connection. we start wrk at 10 in morn and we wrk till late in night, cos there is nuthin to do at home nywys. we eat at hotels, our culinary skills are non-existent. and then till late in nite we talk to our frnds on phn. evryone in ther rooms, hanging on to windows, balconies, walkin to n fro in kitchen. well, we will talk to d room mates once they r gone, on phn, we will. i will. promise. and then coms d weekend. we get up late. nearly aftrnoon. time to call ppl at home. we talk fr hours to evry family member. answering d same question over and over again. howz wrk. did u eat. what did u eat. mom can u tell me receipe of so n so dish. we get ready and we hit d roads with our grps. we shop. we watch movies. we gossip. we try d new lounge. we get drunk. and the weekend is gone. we are connected to all those who are absent and we take pride in it. we take pride in the number of frnds on our frnds list. we take pride in the number of scraps we have accumulated over the years. but we are not bothered about those living wit us. we are not bothered that the rented house is being cleand by a housemaid who doesnt clean it actually but pretends to clean it. we die for the onsite opportunity, and look at all others who got it with envy. aah!! d lucky chap!! we are not bothered tht we are nw alien visitors for our parents and relatives. cos we are more comfortabl partyin thn being with parents. we fall in love. d fortunate ones marry and the unfortunate ones marry ther parents choice. sacrifice. well, big deal. we live. and we are not bothered that we are not living. what we are bothered is the next good job opportunity that wud take us places, that wud earn us more fat salary. and still we wonder why is, there this void inside us.