The Jogging Shoes….

We all are products of our pasts. Everyone of us has ‘should not have done that’ thing behind us. Our pasts may have been bleak or a mix of both good and bad. We brush away few things under the mat and hope mad that it remains there forever. All we are trying to do is to put away the past behind us to move on in life or atleast, that is what we think we are doing. The fact is we are actually avoiding the problem. We are still carrying the baggage from the past. We set out on our journey leaving our past in the closet. We succeed in our goals and there is no stopping us, but the fear of our past tumbling out of the closet haunts us. It makes us difficult to trust people or confide in them. We don our jogging shoes and keep racing away from our past. We run until our lungs finally give away. It’s a nightmare to run away from anything. We run probably because the bruises caused by fragmented chunks of us are deep and are still hurting. There comes a point in time where we essentially need to stop and take a breather. We have to trust someone. We have to allow that someone to re-assemble those broken chunks of us for us. We know for sure that we cannot change the past nor do we have control over the consequences arising out of it. It is pointless to swap our peace, order and balance in life with chaos, disturbance and imbalance. The only option we have is ‘mai pen rai’ the Thai philosophy of accepting and moving on. We need not flee anymore. Give up the jogging shoes and rest your hand on your knees. Put the curiosity to rest by being brave enough to place the facts before the world. Take the load off your chest. There is only one life and we have to figure it out well.

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An odyssey of the obscure to the obvious….

Returned to blogging after a long break. It’s been raining and gazing at it from my indoors is the only acceptable thing about this season for me, given the fact that I live in Mumbai. The muggy days, they don’t lift my spirits be it indoors or outdoors. Life seemed to be jammed and world-weariness was ripping me apart. But come what may I never let my curiosity sink. I keep seeking change and have always been open to new horizons.

Every year I spend summers at my ancestral home in Mangalore. For the most part of summers, the place is abuzz with annual celebrations at the temples and homes. I hail from a family that is always upbeat to keep up with traditions and rituals. I have unceasingly wondered, why are the folks dead set on following these traditions and rituals? I remember reading eminent writer Shyam Manohar say, “Traditions are not to be preserved nor are they to be deliberately broken. They are to be reformed by making unknown known.” May be my clan was doing just that, making the unknown known.

Getting back to my downpour blues, I was just looking forward to find some cheerfulness and motivation to muddle through my day to day grind. Finding myself off the path I realised that it was my chance to build my own trail and walk over it. With the onset of festive seasons the mood changed favorably. I happened to be at my cousins place for ‘Rakshabandhan’, to celebrate the brother-sister bonding more so my family bonding. This is something I accept without kicking up a fuss, I am never let down. Being there with the brood, discussing big and small things in life was much of a soul lifting experience. Somehow it showed in the highly desired ‘Hygge’ into my life.

It occurred to me that traditions are noteworthy. They link the folks and give them a sense of being part of an extensive lineage. Beliefs and ideals of a clan can be metamorphosed into effective channels to initiate enduring and expressive traditions. They need not be imposing with long drawn preparations. All that counts is the aura and vivacity one invests into making it happen. Traditions let the hoi polloi bred into an everyday existence, get hang of the occurences that handed out to them an individuality and a virtue sufficient to renounce the unwanted. It is then, amongst the jostling hordes of emotions the right one finds pride of place. Cheer cannot be hunted for, outside of self nor can be bought. It comes about when thoughts are clearer and souls are lighter. I have set myself on to that path, an odyssey of the obscure to the obvious.

Is all I want…. 

Dead on my feet and spent, I am

Seeking the earthly possessions

Immortal peace is all I desire

And a spell of solitariness, I aspire

Pandemonium I seek to forsake

And drift away into tranquility

To gain a retreat to the soulful whispers

A walk into the woods I take

Or stand in the midst of a meadow

And face the heavens to watch birds soar with gusto

Or sit by the river for respite

All and all the misgivings I shun

 And walk away into faith with certainty to beckon. 

Happiness is….. 

Ofttimes we reason the purpose of life, 

We brood over, if it is success or happiness to end the strife, 

And cross heart, happiness it is !

Life is momentary, 

Passing and slight it becomes, 

In the quest for happiness, 

For happiness we misconstrue as fortunes, 

Although it is a measure of favorable

elements within us. 

Happiness should be the pick, 

To make life authentic, 

To let go the fake

And ease out every heartache. 

Happiness is reminiscing the moments of mirth and joy,

And bringing to mind all that lifts your soul, 

And renouncing all that blows you out, 

And disheartens you throughout. 

Happiness is showing in fulfillment, 

And casting away obsession to perfect, 

And eyeing opportunities to effect. 

Happiness is making time, 

For relationships to last a lifetime. 

For sharing the opulence of love and

gratitude, 

And everytime leaving hearts renewed. 

Happiness is resting the cares, 

And fears of being blown out, 

And not being in the race throughout. 

Happiness is working towards ceaseless well-being, 

For our life to hold out. 
 

It’s only love that counts….. 


“I believe in the immeasurable power of love, the true love can endure any circumstances and reach across any distance.” ~Steve Marboli~

Love is irrefutably the greatest encounter of our life. It is the key to our psychological, logical, spiritual and physical nourishment. It is an unadulterated adulation, a warm personal attachment to a being. It is someone you take delight in and at times find pieces of you in them. Love glorifies our world. We are introduced to this fondness by our mothers. We construct our ideas about the world around this feeling. Love starved kids often paint the world as unloving. They enter into relationships that are hollow. Love has been spoken of highly in the holy texts, scriptures,  making it the most revered emotion. Love is highly stimulating. It lifts the lives of the benefactor as well as the beneficiary. Be it unrepenting outlaw, a juvie, a sociopath or a’stony-eyed’, love can turn them around for its lack of love made them opt these ways to punish the world that disappointed them, left them stranded, deluded them. You cannot appoint people to love on your behalf  just as you appoint maids, drivers, etc to look after the people you care. Here you involve yourself personally to work its magic. There is no pinch hitter for love. ​

There is nothing like too much love.An increased dosage will not ruin the one recieving it neither will it take him apart.It will always fix him, improve and mend him. 

“The only calibration  counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they didn’t live boldly enough heart, didn’t love enough, nothing else really counts at all”claims Ted Hughes. It’s love that counts. Love as an emotion makes the most irrelevant things relevant, the paltry matters most valuable ,so much so that these priceless memories form the core of our heart and is fostered there for the rest of our lives. People we set our hearts on enable us to disclose our frustration , our regrets as easily as we do when we are delighted and encouraged. Loved ones make us feel hopeful about the future. I remember reading an amusing share about a grandpa and a grandma having a fight and refusing to speak with each other.By next day,grandpa had forgotten all about it but grandma went on punishing him with silence. Finally, grandpa started rummaging through drawers and cupboards. When grandma could stand it no longer, she asked impatiently, “What on earth are you looking for? “Thank Heavens!” said grandpa.” I found it, your voice” For me love is not incessant conversation but missing the voice. I believe love is a journey from the inexplicable to being obvious with lot of excitement, fervor, grief, commotion, thrill in the thick of making it dear. 

From garden variety to being exceptional 

Each one of is on a mission to make a mark for ourselves. We often have modest claims that we are not trying to reach some place, but it’s just about living our life well. Regardless of on what we have dibs, we stretch ourselves relentlessly and concurrently we want to be all fired up enjoying the journey alongside. These are basic paradigms on which we plan to put together our acievements. 


​Now and then, we do feel stagnated. Suddenly everything seems to be bloodless and a drag. We are most likely to be vexed and distressed about the turn of events.  Now that we are in a stew, it is sensible  to calm down than being jumpy. It would be apt for us to take a hard look at our choices. Once through with our scrutiny, we need to decide the ones we are going to endear and ones that we are going to endure. While we are on this ,we do pick few things about ourselves like self loathing, comparing, pleasing others, perfecting and trading our peace of mind . We all are the garden variety but its our standpoint that makes us exceptional. Admitting failures as morals makes us feel better and see things distinctly. Success should touch upon all aspects of life-physical,mental, emotional and spiritual. It is our life and it is only fair for us to splash all shades on this canvass. We are thoughtful souls but it is our discerning virtue that takes us places. We need let go of our past and dwell in the present.  Choosing our expression liberates us from the fear of being judged.  So we should choose to do it and soak ourselves in the eperiences of life. Learning to back our thoughts and feelings helps us to break away from our fixation with anxiety and center on healing.  Its fine to be a huckleberry above a persimmon,  by living upto our mindfulness and letting in serenity we can make it remarkable. It will be just to sum up with this beautiful quote from Sanhita Barua, “Let it rain on somedays, Let yourself shiver on cold nights ;so when its spring you’ll know why it was all worth going through.” 

Farewell…..don’t hold your breath. 


These days I have my eyes peeled on an abandoned nest. It had been a flurry of activity few months ago and now it is placid. I am alluded to this perpetual fancy of watching this forsaken nest. I am actually awaiting it to break into activity all over again.Reasonably so ,as I had witnessed a remarkable workmanship of intricately woven grass and twigs,leaves and feathers. An architectural marvel of elegance and endurance on the well-hidden crotches of the tree. The bird gave it up without demur once it was done with raising it’s fledglings. How I wish I could have been like the bird !.

I had to encounter the agony of giving away the only home I grew up. My growing up years , brief as it was , was spent in that house, exquisitely touched with laughter and tears. I had accepted separation the day I was married and was exclusively in the process of building a new home. But was never adapted to giving it away altogether.I had assured myself to retreat to this place whenever I wanted my moments of peace and had to take an edge off from my worries. But I was shattered , when my parents decided to sell off the house and move into our ancestral home. The very thought of never coming back again to pick up the strings of memories was  harrowing.When the final day came, I picked up a quiet corner and shuddered away, as tears welled up. Downhearted unlike the bird. The ultimate farewell was so full of sadness.

As the years passed by , I acceded to the fact that it was not just about the house but the special and beautiful place I held for it in my heart. I didn’t have to say ‘good-bye’ and give into the misery of that word. A thought crossed my heart that I just had to look back on the moments of liveliness, solace and at times euphoria spent in that house. I merely had to lock away those memories into the sunny corner of my heart.So whenever I had to endure separation from anything as dear as that, I had to reach deep within me and bring back that moment from the sunny corner. Instantly I knew the meaning of never saying ‘good -bye’ and putting myself into blue funk. Possibly the bird too took away the such moments of joy and happiness!