The magical spell of Peru

Traveling solo had been on my to-do list for a long time. I have done it before, but those were more of a weekend trips. My first such sojourn was to Rome. I was on an internship in Germany and thanks to EuRail, I ended up in Rome one weekend. That followed with another weekend trip to Vienna and Salzburg. But this time, I wanted to go big. Earlier this year, I started planning for a solo trip to Alaska but some of my close friends were also interested in visiting Alaska, so we made a great summer vacation out of it. As summer approached its end, and colorful leaves started to paint the landscape in farther side of the country, I got busy making plans for another solo sojourn: this time in the land of the Amazonas, the Andes and the Incans. You get it right. I was planning to visit South America. 

South America is a huge continent and deciding which countries, or even cities, to visit is not an easy task, logistically speaking. Long story short, I decided on visiting only Peru. Then followed a lot of research on planning the itinerary. I decided to include three major pit-stops into my itinerary: a culinary stop in the capital city of Lima, an adventure into the deep of the northeastern Peruvian Amazonas and a historical perspective in heart of Inca civilization around Cusco. I was excited, thrilled and nervous at the same time.

From a relatively cooler California weather, I was headed straight into the sweltering hot and humid weather in the tropics of Amazon rain-forests. An early morning flight from Lima to Iquitos, followed by crossing Rio de Amazonas on a speed boat, I arrived in my jungle lodge, on Amazonian plain alongside one of the tributaries to the Amazon. My three days in the Amazon were packed with invigorating experiences- from meeting with the tribal people of the Amazonas to fishing piranhas and sighting pink dolphins; from photographing hundreds of species of birds and butterflies to little squirrel monkeys to gentle giants of the Amazonas; from local jungle fruits to delicious trouts. Icing on the cake was that the two other girls who were supposed to join my group didn’t show up, so I had a private tour into the wild. If I would like to take out anything from the entire into-the-wild experience, it would be the mosquitoes. Don't even ask about those tiny creatures.

From the deep jungles, I was headed to the highlands close to the eastern Andes. At over 11,000 ft. elevation, the city of Cusco boasts of being the heart of Incan empire, surrounded with so many important centers of Inca civilization. On one side, the salt mines of Maras welcome you with a mysterious natural wonder of salty stream at such high elevation, while on the other side you get engulfed in the awe-inspiring sights of 700 years old engineering masterpieces of terrace farms and still-functional aqueducts. Then there is the lost city of Incas: Machu Picchu. Incans made those famous Inca trails ranging from Colombia to Chile, but they hid in this majestic city of Machu Picchu for survival and destroyed the ways to find the city, when Spanish colonized Latin America. Fun fact: although, Dr. Bingham revealed this wondrous city to the world through his exploration in 1911, in the Latin American’s heart, he is considered more of a treasure hunter.

I spent six days soaking in the history of Incan empire and sinking in the Pisco sours. Although this part of the trip was over, I was more than excited to head back to the culinary capital of Latin America. Oh, and, I should mention, that before heading into the deep jungle, I already had a culinary stop in the capital city. Thanks to Netflix, and San Pellegrino, I knew about the places which brought Peruvian cuisine to the world map. My first stop was at Restaurante Central. Chef Virgilio Martinez’s awe inspiring 17-course Mater Elevations menu had blown my mind away. But, I had to take a stop at the king of Peruvian cuisine, Chef Gaston Acurio’s, who is rightfully credited for bringing Peruvian cuisine to the world map, restaurant Astrid & Gaston. I had done reservation for me but couple of my friends joined as well, and hosts at Astrid & Gaston were happy to accommodate us, even though the restaurant was fully packed. It had just raised the bar of hospitality. No wonder they were crowned with “Art of Hospitality” award during recent Latin America’s 50 Best Restaurants awards. Talking about the food at these places will take up another blog post.

So, this is enough of bragging about the amazing two weeks I had in Peru. It doesn’t end here. I will go back to venture into deeper Amazonas and to walk on the Inca trails. I will go back to hike the Dead Women’s Pass. I will go back to enjoy more of the culinary magic. Soon.

It is past 4 pm on a Friday evening. I am having existential crisis in broad day light. It’s been little over two and half years since I left grad school, and have been working for one of the industry leaders in Silicon Valley. Sounds like a dream coming true. But, I am yet to realize my dream coming true. I think I have been getting increasingly complacent with the comfortable life style with a good work-life balance a big-fat check every month can provide. Once in a while I head into the woods and to the mountains, to break this monotony. Sometimes I even get this self-realization kick in the back of my head, making me think what I am doing with my life towards where I want to be. Truth is, after so many years of excitement of coming to grad school, and getting out of it, having that faith that this is what I want to do, I had been moving forward. But, at some point, when I stay stagnant for a while, it starts to get itchy in my head. Like in the last years of grad school, I just wanted to get out of it as quickly as possible. All the excitements of being in academia had suddenly succumbed in front of the excitement of facing the real life challenges, entering into the deep waters of corporate work culture. And like these past two and half years of working even in a good learning environment, I feel like I am bored already. I need to break out of this monotony again. I need to rediscover myself. I need to redefine my path. I need to be myself again. Or maybe, I just need to head to the mountains for a while again. Adios. Have a good weekend (Although I hate this phrase. It sounds so depressing as if we are only living for the weekends).

कभी तो सोचता हूँ

कभी तो सोचता हूँ मैं भी

कि मेरा लक्ष्य क्या है?

पता नहीं, मेरा अस्तित्व भी

मझधार के किस ओर मंडरा रहा है?

या फिर, किसी पर-कटे परिंदे सा 

एक ऊंचाई पर बने रहने को फड़फड़ा रहा है?

क्या मैं सही राह पर भी हूँ?

या फिर दिशाहीन हो भटक रहा हूँ?

कितनों ने उंचाईयां छू ली 

और कितने ही संघर्ष में पिस भी गए 

मैं भी तो और उड़ना चाहता हूँ

पता नहीं, किस पंख की तलाश में हूँ?

कभी हौसले टूटते से लगते 

कि शायद टूट कर बिखर जाऊँगा 

सहम सा जाता हूँ शायद 

या, सचमुच किसी का इंतज़ार है, 

फिर कभी हौसले संभाल कर 

आसमां की तरफ एक-टक देखता हूँ 

शायद कोई तो सुराख मिले 

जो मैंने बनाया हो, अपनी मंजिल की ओर 

या फिर, बस चलता चला जा रहा हूँ?

उम्मीद में इतने कि अपनी मंजिल ढूंढ पाउँगा 

उम्मीद का भी क्या भरोसा 

कभी सच में टूट गयी तो?

क्या मैं मायूस हो कर कहीं,

सच में बिखर तो नहीं जाऊँगा?

फिर तो बस, एक ही ख्याल आता है

खुद पर भरोसा नहीं छोड़ूंगा कभी 

कुछ राह भटक गए भी तो क्या 

नए फिर हम ढूंढ लाएंगे 

हाँ, मानता हूँ संघर्ष होगा बहुत 

पर फिर, बहुत कुछ सीखा भी तो होगा मैंने 

एक नयी उम्मीद की धार मिलेगी

शायद उसी मझधार के बीचो-बीच

या फिर, शायद सच में पंख ढूंढ लाऊंगा 

और अपनी उड़ान पूरी कर पाउँगा 

यूँ हैं जिंदगी के मझधारों में संघर्ष करता

अक्सर ऐसा ही कुछ सोचता रहता हूँ मैं

Little over a year ago…

I knew my body clock was disturbed, when I would go for a nap at 7 pm and wake up at 2 am like I was not going to sleep anymore for the night. I also knew that it will get back to normal soon. The worst part of waking up at such ungodly hours was that I would get hungry and there would be nothing in the kitchen. And, I would be confused, whether I should continue working or watch a movie or something on Netflix. Rather, I had decided to start writing this post, which I had been thinking of for a long while. And, today I’m picking up where I left it little over a year ago.

The time had come near to bid adieu to a place, which gave me home for past 4 years. Not to mention, there were many reasons to be nostalgic about this place, since the time I had landed in this once upon a time alien country. Life at the R-land, before coming here, had been wonderful with some of the most awesome people I met there over the years. There was a psychological effect printed into my neurons that I was going to miss R-land dearly here. My close ones do notice a weird character in me that I don’t miss my home as much I miss my friends. Probably, because I have always believed that friends are the family I chose to be with. It was hard on that side, when I had just landed in this alien country. Waiting for roughly 8 hours to catch my next connection to Columbus, I was even a little scared to get out and get a feel of the windy city. Thankfully, I had a good friend from R-land with me. We were going to attend the same graduate program at the same university. So, that made things a little easier.

We landed at a-little past 11:30 pm in Columbus, waiting to get picked up by our American host for the next couple of days. Even then, I was a little scared what if she forgot. Waiting outside the arrivals at the airport, when rest of the people had already gotten their rides/cabs, was scary. Then, I decided to get inside the airport just to have a quick look if there was anybody left at all in there. Of course, our flight was the last one to land for the night. I saw a lady waiting near the luggage pick-up section and just out of curiosity I went to ask her if she was waiting for two students from India. And, there she was, our host for the next few days, until we find a place to put up. That was a touching and a warm welcome in this so called alien land, to a couple of complete strangers, whom they had never even exchanged emails with.

And, then began a new life: a life which provided me with invaluable lessons both, on the academic as well as personal front. I met some of the most awesome people who would in turn become my few close friends. I even lost some supposedly once close friends. Yeah, people come and go, but life moves on. We studied hard and partied even harder.

The kickass birthday parties, the first winter break when folks from R-land were visiting us, the ATM incident, the “is-it-so-soft” curiosity of one of our friends, the late night clubbing and then devouring gyros from the only open gyro place after 2 am, and that clubbing night when, according to them, I had shouted “go away” at the two girls who tried to dance with me, (which I can assure you I had not :P, but the story is still being told the same), the holy-dips in the fishy-waters in “Put-in Bay” or the mirror-lake, the festivity celebrations, the rock-the-house-floor dance and cookout house parties where once in a blue-moon we even made our “wildest” (pun intended) friends shake their legs, the google-hangout sessions with our old friends in different corners of the planet, and some fortunate gatherings here and there, and, amidst these memorable moments four years had just gone by. I was packing my bags to embark on a new journey in the western side of the country. I am not sure, if I was more nostalgic to leave the place which had been my home away from home and the people who were my family there, or more excited about moving to a place with which I fell in love with the first time I visited there. Then, it was time.

पर, खुश हूँ मैं

क्यूँ दरारों की ज़रूरत थी,

कि अपने रास्ते अलग हो सकें?

होठों पर मुस्कराहट,

और आँखें नम थीं

कि यादों की गहराई में

हम खो सकें?

दिल के मासूम टुकड़ों से

पूछा ना कभी

कि लापरवाह इश्क़ की छाव में

तुम इतना क्यूँ इतरा रहे थे?

बेचारा, आने वाले

इम्तेहां से बेख़बर जो था।

क्यूँ छोड़ दिया उसी हाल पर

कि नादानियों से शाय़द सीख सके?

ख़ैर, छोड़ो

इक सुकून है बस इस बात का

कि तुम्हें इतने क़रीब से जाना

रास्ते अलग हुए तो क्या

यादों की रौशनी साथ है ना

उन्हीं मासूम दिल के टुकड़ों को 

जोड़ कर, फिर चल पड़ा हूँ मै

राह नयी है, साथ तुम भी तो नहीं हो

पर, खुश हूँ मैं

हसीं वादियों के बीच,

खुले आसमां के नीचे,

दरिया की कल-कल धारा कि गोद में,

उन यादों को दोहराऊंगा मैं

खुशियों से भरा एक अपना,

छोटा सा जहाँ, बनाऊंगा मैं। 

O' you nightingale eyes

O' You nightingale eyes

You saw me through

my weirdest replies

I wasn't shy

Or, maybe was I

I saw you smile

Couldn't look away for a while

You knew it right then

What my heart had spoken

I did not wanna accept

Neither I wanted any regret

Yes, I was confused

When you approached

I tried to look away

Then, I heard you say "Hey"

Through my pounding heart

You perhaps, got a reply

I tried to be calm

So brought up a smile

We went for a walk

Romance was our talk

The evening was bright

Under beautiful moon-light

As I held your hand

Felt if I could stop slipping of the sand

A thank you, from the heart

For taking the start

For breaking the ice

O' you nightingale eyes

You saw me through

my weirdest replies

Then, I met you.

It all started one autumn. The summer just passed was full of loneliness and nostalgia. I wanted to be with someone who actually cared listen to me, and also cared to talk to me. Yes I have always had a few really good friends, but I think I wanted being someone special, or maybe I wanted to meet the one for me. Yes, I have always been hopeless romantic, just like any typical Piscean, floating on top of feelings/emotions. I am generally a good judge of people, and I take time to get to know people. But, when I started to know you, I wanted to know you more. I felt that the feelings were mutual. Although, it was just facebook/gtalk dating, we did spend hours chit-chatting, sitting thousands of miles away. Within just a week of knowing you, it was your 22^nd birthday. I had known well enough about your likings that I wanted to get you a thoughtful present for your birthday, but my practical mind was saying that it would be too soon. There were a lot of common things between us, but there were so many differences too. You had been a great sports person, well acknowledged too, and I was barely good at any sports. I had developed a great fondness for you. I know it will be another act of hopeless romanticism but I am pretty sure I remember everything we talked about when we had our first phone conversation. You were hiding in the park beside your house from your parents, just to have a conversation with me. That made me feel important and I loved the feeling. Almost 7-8 weeks passed just like that and I grew fonder of having a conversation with you each passing day, sharing every details of my life with you and knowing bits and pieces of your life. You shared many of your secrets with me, because you trusted me so much. It felt awesome. I assure you, your secrets will always be safe with me. Then you went away for a week to visit some of your relatives, and it felt like the time had suddenly become slower. We couldn’t talk at all that week. I was eagerly waiting for the week to get over so that I could have a conversation with you. When you returned, I was so damn excited. I remember you saying once to me that you felt so lonely and empty and I wanted to say that I had been falling for you. But, my practical mind stopped me from doing that, saying that I haven’t even met you once and it would be utterly stupid of me. Didn’t I tell you I was hopelessly romantic? Yes, exactly that’s what I was talking about. I was visiting home in sometime and I wanted to meet you once. Meanwhile, we had some disagreements. And, for the first time you stopped talking to me. You were angry at me. It felt like thousands of sharp needles piercing my heart. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. My parents couldn’t figure out what had suddenly happened to my mood. I wrote an emotional poem for you. I don’t know if you ever read that, but it makes me teary-eyed even now, when I read it.

Then, I met you.

to be continued...

Birthday blues!

This post was supposed to come a month ago, but you know, there is a saying "better late than never" :D. Ever since I was a kid, I had the fervor of excitement for birthdays. Although, I grew up with a different tradition of birthday celebrations at my home than cutting the cake etc., I liked the special attention given to me that day. I guess, every kid does, well, apart from Sheldon who wanted a Titanium Centrifuge on his birthday :P. Being from a highly spiritual family, my parents and grandparents believed in thanking god for the completion of one more year of existence. I also grew up quite spiritually oriented, but then I got introduced to science. And, beliefs changed for me. Well, this post is not going to be about those beliefs. Rather, I will try sharing some of my "special moment" experiences on my birthdays that I have had in the last few years.

Eight years ago, I was a Freshmen at ISM Dhanbad. And, then came my first birthday away from home and family. There, I got introduced to the idea of birthday-bumps. It felt like an amazing way to celebrate birthday, provided it was someone else's birthday. It scared the hell out of me, as my birthday came closer. To be true, there were two really big guys in our wing, who could literally lift me up single handedly and then the others could do the beating. Yes, that very idea scared the tiny little me. So, I came up with a plan :D. I asked one of my trusted friends to lock me up inside my own room. Even, the roommates got their share of birthday bumps, so I and my dear roommate, Sid, stayed locked up after dinner and spread the rumor around that I will be at my local guardian's place for the night. Somehow our plan got leaked and we had no idea about it. How could we have, we were locked up inside, and none of us had a cell phone back then. As the clock ticked 11:45 pm, we heard people gathering in front of our hostel room, and my facial expression was enough to convey Sid that people knew about our plan. It was good that our trusted-friend had slid the key back to us, after locking us in. 11:50, and first knock on the door, only to affirm our suspicion that they know we are inside. Repeated knocks and screams then followed to make us come out of our room, while inside we were just trying to breathe, without uttering a single word. From the whispers, I could easily figure out that there were at least 20 people outside. I would skip a heartbeat with the thought "what if the door fell down?". It went on and on for like an hour or so, intermittent knocks and shouting. And, then people got frustrated and left for their rooms. Next morning, everyone's expressions said, "Not fair, kid", and I would wanna say, "I never kicked anyone's ass, so no one should kick mine :P". Sigh. 

My next 4 birthdays were celebrated in our own R-land, and I knew that the old plan was not gonna work here. As the day came closer, I had started to accept that I will be getting birthday bumps this time. I and my roommate, both were quite skinny. Well, my roommate was quite taller than me so he looked even skinnier :P. At the stroke of midnight, on my birthday, people arrived in my room. Hugs and wishes followed and then, the deed. Yes, I was tiny so it was very easy for any two of them to lift me up, and I got my share of birthday bumps. The bad part about this celebration was that there were stories about people wearing their NCC boots especially for giving birthday bumps to their dearest friends. Well, my tiny skeleton made them spare me off NCC boots. It hurt a little, for a while. But, then, they lifted my roommate and he was getting his share of birthday bumps. One guy took out his flip-flop and started giving his share of bumps to him. Just as he went through first flap on his hips, it literally turned my roommate upside down. Everybody was literally rolling on the floor laughing on that sight. It became even easier to beat his tiny bums with those flip-flops :P. Then there were usual celebrations in hostel canteen and a treat in a restaurant. Second year onwards, I had shifted to another hostel with smaller group of friends. The tradition went on for next two years, without the beating part though.

The last birthday celebration in R-land had a lot of nostalgia added to it. For past three and half years, we had made some truly great friends, and the time was coming close to say it all a heartfelt goodbye. Well, I don't need to say what happens to saying goodbyes, if you start adding a little alcohol to it :P. Daaru-chapos were getting common way to celebrate someone getting a job or for someone's birthday or for any god-damn reason to spend some quality time together. I was mostly on the non-drinkers' side, having fun of the conversation and then, reminding everyone the next day what they did :P. So, it was my last birthday and there was a cake. And, then some daaru. And, then there was a rage against a Professor X. Let me back you up a little. We had classes on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and we tried to move the classes from Mondays and Fridays along with other classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but the Professor X didn't agree to move his classes, citing simple enough reason that he didn't want us to have long weekends for the whole semester. So, coming back to my birthday now. It was Thursday night and after having cake and some drink, we all had "some great fun" and went to sleep. Next morning, at 9 am sharp, kids had to go for Prof. X's class. And, the professor began telling a story putting his sarcastic smile on his face. It went on as, "Something funny happened last night. Somebody locked my apartment door from outside". Well, what else can I say. Apart from that, we had our legendary Goa trip few weeks later. And, that Goa trip will remain the best birthday gift I ever got. Thank you folks.

Birthday bumps on my 25th :-/

Nostalgia of leaving R-land was just getting over when I landed in the alien land of US of A. First birthday celebration was okay following similar tradition as college. I was still nostalgic about my last birthday celebration in R-land though.  I didn't know a lot of people back then, but slowly I have made some truly amazing friends here. Then I turned 25. Time passed by. This year, I had my last birthday celebration with these amazing folks. Yes, they will be friends for life. Yes, I will miss you guys a lot, wherever I will be. With all this nostalgia, I look forward to exploring the adventure of being in a new place pretty soon and begin a new phase of my life. Soon enough. 

शब्द खोये से क्यूँ हैं

शब्द खोये से क्यूँ हैं, 

शायद किसी की तलाश में हैं

जब कभी उस पार झाँकने की कोशिश करता हूँ मैं 

एहसास एक ऐसा झकझोर जाता है मुझे 

उन्हें सामने न देख कर 

कई टुकड़ों में बिखर जाता हूँ मैं

कई बार कोशिश की, 

यादों को शब्दों में पिरोने की

शायद, वापस जा सकूं, 

जहाँ अपने रास्ते अलग हुए थे 

कशिश वो सीने में आज भी है, 

शायद शब्द इसलिए कतरा रहे हैं 

इतना दर्द संभाल कर भी 

जीता रहा हूँ मैं इत्म्नान से 

शब्दों को डर है मेरे हौसले से 

शायद उन यादों के भंवर में 

एक बार फिर टूट कर बिखर जाऊँगा मैं ।

Growing up

In a few months, I will be turning 27 and I wonder almost everything about this age of transition from young to adult. The concept of growing up is still an enigma to me in many senses. There are some situations, where I really don’t want to grow up, for example my hopeless romanticism ;). I recently had a long distance crush on someone and I was stupidly so not ready to let go. But, then I grew up a bit ;). One of my friend had shared a status on Facebook when he turned 25, mentioning how we are not cool ones anymore to hang out with our college going friends; how we are not so grown up to even hang out with matured family oriented friends of ours; how our neighbors and distant relatives just see us as a potential groom for some distantly known girl they know of; blah, blah, blah. In all senses it conveyed a nuance of messiness in this age of transition I am going through and I kind of feel, well not a lot but, a pinch of it, too. There are times when I could feel a conflict between dying adolescence and a domineering maturity, be it about making a relationship decision or a career related decision, egotistically saying not to become irrational and stupid. There are times when I could feel I wish I had not grown up. Strangely enough, the ambitious one in me has grown up into a more complacent one, a more compromising one. The journey of growing up has taught me so much more and most importantly I have learned to choose what I want to become. We all go through this, I believe. We learn to hide things from close family members, we learn to make new friends, to come out of a bad break up, and we learn to make ways for our once closest friends to leave from our lives. Life keeps on surprising us every now and then, and yet, we feel that we understand life better. Yet, we love the life more, not only because what we are left with in our lives, but more because of the journey we have just been through. It brings out so many promises, promises of what else could come further down this journey, who else we could meet there and how would we change ourselves, for better or worse. None of us knows. And, that makes it more exciting. Yes, I agree we all miss our carefree childhood, but it’s these promises which keep us going. Yes, we do want to look back, once in a while, and it makes us nostalgic, and I especially try to gather up strength from that to shrug off that nostalgia, stand up and walk again. We grow up.

She was cute

(This is almost a year old post, had it on my facebook notes, just putting it here too :))

Dunno why I'm writing it now, but all of a sudden, her bright face wandered through my senses. Throughout my undergrad life, I travelled for at least 20 hour long journey by train, during vacations, back and forth home. Taking the bus at midnight, from R-land to catch the early morning train from the capital, had been the way I went through. Standing at the platform, near the train, first thing would come to my mind, if there would be a cute companion in the compartment and I would scan through the seating chart. Well, it wasn't just me. Probably everyone of us would've done that. Unfortunately, yours truly never got to witness a good company. Rather, it had been horrible company, most of the time. I would read some book or just gaze through the window, or would lie down on my berth. Some of my friends would sleep through the entire journey.

Times flew by. I came to United States. Now, the train is replaced by the aircraft. But, the duration and frequency is probably the same: more than 24 hour long journey once a year, across the globe. The situation has become better though. The chances of horrible journey has gone down. There is almost always one gets to have a personal entertainment screen during the flight and I always utilise it fully :). I don't need a book now, and gazing through the window is of no use as the view is almost always the same except during take off and landing. However, chances of having a cute companion seating next has increased. Statistically speaking, by at least 15%. Yes, it's my own stat. I've travelled three times (to and fro) and I had "that cute companion" once, for almost half of the journey.

Her name was Kaitlyn, as exactly as I remember, and she was studing Art at some college in Chicago. Flash back. I saw her at the Brussels airport, in the same lounge where I was waiting for my flight to Chicago and all of a sudden, this thought came to my mind that what are the odds if she could be seated next to me. In a while, boarding begun. I went to my alloted seat, and somebody else had occupied that. Politely, I was asked if I could take his seat. I didn't have any problem in that. Next second, I saw her passing by the aisle. She went to the same row where I was supposed to be seated, and asked the same fellow who offered me to exchange with his seat. For a moment, I was like, "Oh no. Why did I accept this exchange of seat." He was with his kid so he didn't wanna move. He asked her to take his seat and I was thinking, if the vacant seat next to me is the same one he referred her to. Yes, it was. She came and greeted me. I was smiling, from the heart :). We chatted, watched movies, ate and chatted through out the journey. Eight hours, and I'm pretty sure that all the conversation is still fresh in my memorylane :).  Time flew by. We parted. Sigh. She was cute.

This is my entry to the Office of International Affairs' International Photography Competition

Title: Symphony of Expressions

Place shot: Kohlmarkt, Vienna, Austria

Europe: can never get enough of it! (I)

Revisiting old days? Probably not!

It had been four years since I visited this country last time. I didn’t learn to speak their language, last time when I was there, and that was one reason to feel alienated in a completely new world. I had been thinking, probably, I will be facing the same situation this time, but having another intercultural experience for past 3 years, should give me some confidence in getting accepted in this world. Probably, familiarity with the city I was about to visit should also be an added advantage in that respect. Life had taken lots of twists and turns in past four years. Last time when I was there I had comfort zone of Indian friends which I never came out of. This time, it was different. I was alone, and was on my own. And, it was actually for the first time, I was in a place without a comfort zone around. Yes, I was totally on my own. The experience had been extraordinary. I hope I will be doing justice to it when I continue forward.

Since the day it was planned, I had been over excited about the trip. I wanted to visit Rome and Salzburg especially this time. So, I decided to make plans in advance. And thus, I had bought the Eurail pass for the same. It was a business visit, just for five weeks, so basically I had just the weekends to travel around. I did not want to take week days off as well, just because the university was paying me for this short visit. But, I had decided to make as much of my weekends as possible. First weekend was a bit boring, as I had decided to stay around Erlangen. I had been in the city four years ago, and I knew a good deal around so was just observing if things had changed a lot. The Arcaden stood right there where it was, and the Turkish Kebab place, Mamma Mia still existed, and served those delicious Doner kebabs, but soon I felt like there was not much to explore and I got more desperate to get out in the wilderness. So, I made reservations for Rome for the next weekend. As the next weekend came close, my excitement kept going and going until I took breath in sigh. The day arrived, when I was finally to depart for Rome.

My trip to Rome deserves to be told. Yes I had been astoundingly proud to walk through those ruins of one of the greatest ancient civilizations. I had been astonished by the wealth and riches of the Vatican City, displayed in the architecture and aesthetics of St. Peter’s Basilica or Vatican Museum or Sistine Chapel. But before the journey began, there is a story to that itself. I had planned to meet up an old friend, after like 7 years or so, in Rome, but somehow his plan got cancelled and I had to decide if I am to go alone. For long time I had the desire to visit the city and nothing could have stopped me this time. The journey took off.

I decided to take a night train from Munich. While going to Munich, from Nuremberg, I sat next to a very pretty girl, but I couldn’t dare to talk to her. For all that one hour, I kept thinking how to break the ice, but she was so engrossed with her iPod, and I was so afraid if she would be willing to talk, I kept my mouth shut. My heart kept mumbling for some time that I should talk to her but I decided against it. I had one hour at the Munich station and I kept on looking for some Turkish place to savor Doner Kebab, and I finally found one. Yes, it was delicious, but not as good as Mamma Mia. At 9 pm, I finally embarked on the train. As soon as I reached my compartment and was arranging my backpack, I heard a melodious voice behind me, like wind chimes ringing into my ears. That was in German though. Throughout the moment between leaving one train, having Doner and embarking on my train, I had thought of a million things, and among those, my subconscious did have a thought if there are any odds I will meet the girl again, whom I sat next to while coming to Munich. Seriously, were there any? Faintly yes, I suppose. And so, I turned around and asked, “To Rome?” She was with her friend, and both replied negative. Both had to disembark in Austria. After getting done with my luggage arrangements, I tried to get involved in the conversation again. Then two other Dutch girls and an American boy joined us in the compartment. I took another breathe in sigh that at least there will be somebody whom I could talk to without interrupting the conversation. Four of us, other than the two girls I talked about previously, were headed to Rome. So, yaay. In a moment, I broke the conversation of Austrian girls again, and this time I could get a decent look on her cute countenance. Suddenly something struck me in awe. I had earlier described that the odds of meeting that girl were very faint, right? And, luckily the dice was rolled perfectly. It was her. I couldn’t stop my heart to smile. I didn’t want to. She definitely had an affectionate smile. And, indubitably she was one of the prettiest girls I have ever encountered in my whole life. Yes, the poet in me wanted to write a poem right then, but it would have been too much of hopeless romanticism, so I decided against it :P.

to be contd.

An urge

I have always been bad at reading. Rather, horrible. Even at writing. Not to mention, speaking as well. Though, I do have written some beautiful Hindi poetry, but rest aside, nothing puts a slightest bit of gravity to my persona. School life essay competitions had been rote based, which pretty much sucked. No body cared to tell me that I should read some good literary pieces. In fact, no body around ever did that, so I never even got to know that there is something apart from school learning, and the two-three odd Hindi newspapers we used to get. A television came to my house, when I was in 7th grade. And, then I got to watch some news or whatever movies Doordarshan would air on the weekends. My sporting life never came out of playing gully cricket, and as my parents or others would say, it was the reason I never grew taller :P. I really sucked at sports. Once there was a sporting event organized at my school, (and yes, that was the only one in the 10 years of my precious childhood I spent at that school) and one of the events were high jump. I remember that I ran from the mark and as soon as I reached near the rope, I couldn't dare to jump over. I stopped, took a breathe and slid under the rope :P. I should have been disqualified, but they forced me to try again, this time, lowering the rope a bit. And, yours truly reached the rope, stopped and hopped over. Yes, I was that bad in sports. Until, I was done with tenth grade and moved out of that small village I grew up in. Then, I started seeing a bigger world. I started broadening my horizon. Yes, I had missed a lot. But, I don't regret that. There is no point in doing that. My parents have done wonders for me to give me a blessed life. You wouldn't believe me, when I say that, my father has taken me on his bicycle 12 km to and fro, to my coaching place, when I had started preparing for engineering entrances. I never dared to even learn bicycle. Even today, I don't know how to ride one. Yes, that really sucks, and I should regret that. But I don't :P. I was a timid child, and very shy. One more funny incident I can share here. One day in school, one of the girls in my class was giving chocolates to everyone because it was her birthday, and I ran out of class, because I was too shy to wish her happy birthday. Yes, that also sucks, but probably the environment I grew up in made me this. In school, we boys were punished to sit beside girls, so that we don't disturb the class decorum. That was one reason, I started getting alienated from girls. And, added to that came three years of all boys schooling and then, further at coaching place, all boys group. Though, the seniors from my coaching institute, who had already joined some good institutes, had felt that we should also be given a chance to broaden our extra curricular skills at the coaching place. Then started UTSAV, an annual fun-filled event with lots of great opportunities to learn. There was the first time, I participated in a debate competition. I remember I was so freaked out on stage that for the first one minute I just mumbled and then I started reading the hand out I had prepared for myself. I probably was the sole weak point in my team and the reason for us to lose. But, I tried. Seniors were smart. They had realized that kids like me would try anything to avoid participation, so we were forced to participate by the fear of expulsion from the coaching place. I had tried to participate in extempore once, and I went on stage fearless. Stood before the microphone, and as I started my first sentence and glanced over the audience I was addressing to, my heart just sank. Not a single word came out of my mouth for next two minutes. I was just standing there, silent. There are few other incidents like these too. Only good thing I could get from those that slowly I was overcoming my fear to give it a try. But, that was the place which started shaping my persona. I made some truly great friends, two of them I can indubitably call my best friends, who have always been there for me however stupid I become. It's true, I do stupid things too often :P. There I started to read something other than the text books. That was the time when I had written my first Hindi poem, though I don't have any record of that, and I don't even remember any lines from that. Though, during my undergrad, I didn't explore much of that area, I did start blogging, and kept writing few poems now and then. I was very fortunate to have some really good friends who have been awesome in literary skills. So, that exposed me to some good piece of blog posts, some wonderful movies. But, after getting done with my undergrad, I kind of stopped following blogs or even posting myself.

Recently, however, I have come across a few amazing personalities, which has brought out a sudden urge in me to get back to follow their blogs, write my own. I hope I will start doing some justice here. 

क्यूँ तुम्हें खो दिया

खुद से, खुद के सवालों में मैं यूँ उलझा हुआ सा हूँ

कुछ पाने की कोशिश में कहीं खोया हुआ सा हूँ

एक सवाल जाने क्यूँ इतना तडपा रहा है मुझे

यादों के अंधियारे में उसका उत्तर ढूंढ रहा हूँ

जीवन के झरोखे का आइना बना कर, शायद

अपने चेहरे की मायूसी का मतलब ढूंढ रहा हूँ

यादों के भंवर में हीं मोती ढूंढ रहा था पर

शायद, किसी बवंडर की ओर रुख ले लिया

न चाहते हुए भी कुरेद रहा हूँ अपने हीं जख्मों को

डर भी है, फिर से डूबने का, और दर्द भी, क्यूँ तुम्हें खो दिया

अनजान राहों पर भी हाथ थामे तुम्हारा चला जाता था मैं

आग़ोश में तेरे बस यूँ हीं, सपनों में खो जाता था मैं

एक विश्वास था वो दामन, पर जाने कब, कैसे टूट गया

शायद शीशे के सपने थे, कभी किसी पत्थर से टकरा गए

साथ तुम्हारे हो कर भी, न जाने कैसे तुमको खो दिया!

My failures

Life’s never easy. It’s always been about survival of the fittest. Failures are inevitable part of our lives. It keeps coming and going. Sometimes, we pay a heavy price when we fail. But, in-turn it gives us an experience to learn. To learn from our failures is one of the most important lessons life teaches us every moment. The bigger point is that what we learn from our mistakes, we should be able to apply those.

Farthest down my memory lane, I recall that I had failed in English in first standard in school. In the academics, this was my very first encounter with a failure. Then, I failed in social sciences in standard fifth, I think. I failed in English again in standard eighth. I failed to reach my expectations in tenth board. I failed to do well in twelfth board. I failed to qualify for jee twice. I almost failed in physics in my undergrad twice. I failed to do good in sports at any level, however like and interest I developed. I failed to get a good job. At one moment, I had thought have I failed to make my career? What wrong choices have I made? I failed to get into a grad school. Yes, I was rejected by OSU, but later they got some new openings and then I was offered a place. And, yet again, I failed after entering in grad school. I was perplexed to see clearly if I had applied the things I had learned from my past failures. In my personal life, I don’t recall many such things, which impacted me the most. Probably, their impact on my career is not observable, but somehow they must have affected my persona, psychologically maybe. When I was appearing for my tenth board exam, my mother was fighting with death in a hospital. When she had acute blood shortage due to heavy internal bleeding, the doctors called for me to get some blood, but other family members didn’t even let me know the situation, fearing it might impact my exam. My father ran umpteenth times to many people, to the red-cross, to arrange for the required amount of blood. I know even if I had failed in the tenth board, my family members would have had sympathy with me. The other experience I remember is when I was in freshmen year at R and I had a crush on one of my good friend. Probably, she was the only girl whom I knew well. I kept on becoming stupid and desperate. That was one time when I was ignoring the lessons, I had been learning every day. One day, she bid me adieu. I had cried. A lot. It took me some time to get over her. But, I had learned a lesson to keep your crush away from friendship. I had thought I would not repeat it. But, I didn’t know that there was a fear in me, which had made me sick enough and if uncovered I will be that stupid again. And then, a day came when, I actually “celebrated” two failures; career as well as personal life. I fell in love again with a good friend. I feared to lose her. I did stupid things. She started hating me. I had thought she will hate me for life. I had cried. I had cried much more than I had in my whole life beyond infancy. And I was not even over with this shock, I had another shock. It took me sometime, to really understand what was going wrong in me this time. I tried to wake myself up and become better. I am proud of the feelings I have for her, but I have learned another lesson to lower my expectations. I needed a push in my life to get it going further, it came a hard way. I hope that these lessons, I will not, overlook again. I hope that, a better me will keep becoming better, learning from its own failures.

पड़ाव

वक़्त बेवक्त ज़माने की बंदिशों में

एक आज़ाद परिंदे सा एहसास,

जो पलता रहा कलेजे में बरसों से

खुल कर साँस लेने का वो साज़,

जीने की चाहत की तलाश में एक भंवरे सा,

ता-उम्र, फूलों पर भटकता हुआ सा अंदाज़|

ख्वाहिशें अपनी थीं, रास्ते भी अपने से

दो कदम इस ओर तो, दो चल पड़े उस ओर

मुसाफ़िरों की महफ़िल, मयकदे जैसी मंजिल,

किसी मुसाफिर से मुहब्बत में डूबा कभी दिल,

कभी उम्मीदों की परवाह में टूट कर बिखरा तो

कभी टुकड़े टुकड़े जोड़ कर संभला भी ये दिल

कुछ पल का साथ फिर वो कह गये अलविदा

यादों में उनके कई पल, बहुत रोया भी ये दिल |

पर कुतरे हुए परिंदे सा फड-फडाता, कभी गिरता

फिर संभलता, लड़खड़ाते क़दमों को झकझोरता

कुछ रंजिशें की, कभी किसी से कुछ फरमाइसें की

कुछ पल शौक से जिंदगी के पन्नों की नुमयिसें की

शायरी का मज़हब टटोला, मयकशी में जीवन भी घोला

ज़ज्बातों की स्याही से कोरे कागज़ को पहनाया चोला|

मझधारों की मौज में कभी डूबता,

फिर उभरता

कभी थमी धार के संग बहता,

कभी पत्थरों की ठोकरें सहता

हौसले फिर भी खोने न दिए,

सब कुछ हिम्मत से सह लिए

उम्मीद में बस इतने कि

एक दिन वो पड़ाव आएगा

जहाँ वक़्त भी मेरे क़दमों में

इक बार गर्व से सर झुकाएगा

एक आज़ाद परिंदे सा एहसास

मेरे ख्वाबों का आँगन मेहकायेगा

ऐ मेरे दोस्त

जीवन के हर मोड़ पर होगा तुम्हारा साथ

मैं डगमगाऊं तो संभलने को होगा तुम्हारा हाथ

राह में मिलते रहेंगे कई सारे पत्थर

झेल जाऊँगा सबको ख़ुशी से, तुम्हारे साथ

ऐ मेरे दोस्त, इतना खुशनसीब हूँ मैं

तुम्हे पाकर, जैसे जन्नत का मिल गया साथ

बस डरता हूँ हर पल, एक अनजाने से ख्वाब से

कुछ पल को भी कहीं छिन जाए ना तुम्हारा साथ

तुम्हारे बिना इस जीवन का कोई मोल नहीं

माटी का यह तन भी है अनमोल तुम्हारे साथ|

यादों के सुन्दर उपवन में जो कुछ फूल खिले हैं

उन्हें क्षण भर को भी कभी मुरझाने नहीं दूंगा

एक उद्दाग्र ग्रसित रोगी सा जो काँटे उगाये हैं

एक बदनसीब राही बनकर, उन्हें तुम्हे चुभोने नहीं दूंगा

तुम्हारी दोस्ती की जो अहेमियत है मेरे लिए

एक नासूर बन कर तुम्हे तड़पने नहीं दूंगा

ऐ मेरे दोस्त, जितना खुशनसीब हूँ मैं तुम्हे पाकर

तुम्हारी मुस्कराहट को आँसू में कभी बदलने नहीं दूंगा|

बस डरता हूँ हर पल, एक अनजाने से ख्वाब से

कुछ पल को भी कहीं छिन जाए ना तुम्हारा साथ

तुम्हारे बिना इस जीवन का कोई मोल नहीं

माटी का यह तन भी तो है अनमोल तुम्हारे साथ

It was past midnight. It didn’t seem normal. Through the dreary rhymes of blowing wind, there was voice coming along. Somebody was crying. I could feel it. He wasn’t just crying. He was deeply mourning as if someone endeared to him has passed away. I suddenly woke up. I had tear drops rolling down my eyes. It was me, crying in my dreams. Moments into the realization, I burst out into tears. I was missing her. She had left me a while ago. She was gone for good. Since then, it has become habitual. I cry like a little baby. I mourn and then I fall asleep. Ever since I had known her, she has been everything to me. That’s the fault of my persona. The ones I really like, it doesn’t take a moment to give everything to them. I don’t care if I might get just pain in return. There was a past, a frightening past, associated with me. It kept frightening me that I may lose her. I might repeat the mistakes I had done five years ago. Petty things, and her getting angry on those, kept worsening my fear. Yes, I was being succumbed to the neurotic sickness. I was getting sick to seek her attention. Since then, every little case like that kept on making me worse. I cried every time, to make her up to talk to me. She kept on ignoring me. It was in her nature, which I could not understand, because I was sick to ignore the facts. And, the fear kept mounting upon. Things kept on worsening. We broke apart, for a while. A small ego clash! I was hurt. I knew it was my fault. I accepted it as my fate. Her kindness gave me one more chance. This time, I told her something, which I had been hiding for long. I wanted to ask her to marry me. She got little angry though. But, my neurosis was on hyper this time aided with my ugly ego, I did things which broke us apart. It was over. She is gone. I miss her. I cry. I mourn, every night, every day. Don’t know, until when I’ll realize what I have done. It was my fault. I loved her. I feared to lose her. I didn’t tell her. Probably, I expected her to read me. Probably, I could not read her. The only thing left in my life is mourning, for now. Can’t say when this phase will be over. I will miss her. She won’t. She will hate me.

Swades

Five years ago, it was Lohri time and a charming young lady made her bollywood debut in an Ashutosh Gowarikar movie. Unfortunately, Indian cinema didn’t get much from her. Yes! That movie was superb. I was at Coal land those days, and excited after hearing my first semester results, I ran with one of my friend to the theater. Not only I admired the movie, but also, from the very first movie, I had become great fan of the beauty queen.

Few days ago, it was again Lorhi time and I somehow reminded of the beauty queen once again. I went to look for her recent profile in Wikipedia and found that she had been married the same year I left coal land for R. What a heart-break for me! To appreciate the charm of her image inside my soul, I went to watch Swades again. Yes! I was talking about Gayatri Joshi.

In general, I do not dare to watch a movie even second time, unless it produces some deep effect in me. I must say, in last three days, I have seen the movie thrice. Yes! You read it right, three times. It was not the reason that I missed the beauty queen. Probably I was feeling lonely. For the first time I saw it, my thoughts flew back home. When, I was lying on the terrace under the shining winter sunrays, and my younger was trying to take his kite to the summit. When, Mumma would just bring a cup of Nescafe with homemade toasts for me. When, I would spend hours lying just like that. When, we all kids would fill up ourselves with Tilkuts etc. and would be scolded for not eating regular meal. When, Mumma would cook spicy and delicious mutton curry for us. When, we kids would all gear up to celebrate Vasant Panchami and upnext the festival of colors, Holi. Damn! I was being homesick. Probably, added to these, my thoughts spiced up things little bit, and it created a charming young lady who would have impressed me much and she’s also waiting for me there. Probably, when I go back there, I would wander in search of this imaginative beauty. Flown in these thought, I watched Swades again. I could notice a soft smile on face, in each and every scene of the movie which I adored.

Conclusion of the story: I wanna go home.