The Judgement

 How do you know you lived a good life ? Its death that celebrates the life you had. 

Today, somebody close to me passed away. I am still not clear why he was close to me. But when I heard the news, it meant something to me. I shutdown my laptop to attend his funeral. Just wanted to see him one last time. 

May be it was the guilt that I did not see him when he was alive that drove me. May be it was the camaraderie that started between a 10 year old and a 58 year old. We seldom spoke. But every time we spoke it was an epiphany. It was that feeling that somebody has walked through the path that you wish to follow or perhaps you are following and nobody in the world understands the meaning of doing the same.

I reached hardly an hour before the funeral. I expected a silent affair. After all, when an 88 year old passes away, few people turn up. Especially after Covid-19 when people have reconciled with death. But it was not so. Throngs of people were there; relatives, some neighbors, few friends, friends of his children and perhaps one or two like me. I released that life is judged by the death and the farewell you have. He died peacefully in his sleep and there were many to bid him goodbye. 

And if i were to die today, I can hardly count on 5 people who would turn up. Need to catch up!

Days of Quarantine - X

Playing in the shadows,

Way behind the lights,

For things unknown.

Days of Quarantine - 4

I folded so that there is no sound.
But there is.
The sound of silence.
Deafeningly loud.

Days of Quarantine - 3

Some drink to forget.

Some drink to remember.

Days of Quarantine - 2

Pretty much boils down to your hands.
May be my hands.

May be both of our hands.

Days of Quarantine - 1

The isolation that may span into many more days and beyond. To take stock of my life during the days to come,  I take these pictures.

Taking pictures; something which I forgot but loved doing a long ago. In the midst of packing, I took my old camera. Still covered with dust and autofocus not working, it clicked. It had to be poked, a lot, to bring back to life. A photo clicked with half heart and half will.

For all those steps that I didn't take,

And for all those steps that I took,

The journey is still not over.

You are alone!

No matter what you do, you are alone.
No matter how much you do, you are alone.
No matter why do what you need do, you are alone.

You are alone, but not lonely.

Live on.  Because life is beautiful.

Living in the Moment

Taken from http://www.taoism.net/living/2003/200301.htm


One day, while walking through the wilderness, a man encountered a vicious tiger. He ran for his life, and the tiger gave chase.
The man came to the edge of a cliff, and the tiger was almost upon him. Having no choice, he held on to a vine with both hands and climbed down.
Halfway down the cliff, the man looked up and saw the tiger at the top, baring its fangs. He looked down and saw another tiger at the bottom, waiting for his arrival and roaring at him. He was caught between the two.
Two rats, one white and one black, showed up on the vine above him. As if he didn't have enough to worry about, they started gnawing on the vine.
He knew that as the rats kept gnawing, they would reach a point when the vine would no longer be able to support his weight. It would break and he would fall. He tried to shoo the rats away, but they kept coming back.
At that moment, he noticed a strawberry growing on the face of the cliff, not far away from him. It looked plump and ripe. Holding onto the vine with one hand and reaching out with the other, he plucked it.

With a tiger above, another below, and two rats continuing to gnaw on his vine, the man tasted the strawberry and found it absolutely delicious.

I feel I am alive.
I know I am alive.
But am I ?
May be forcing myself to be alive.

Living the moment.

Rain and Silence

Rains came.
Flooded my memory.
Washed away.
Everything.
Silence stays.
About unsaid and untold.

Rains came. Once again.

A Happy Place

Do you guys have a happy place in your life ?

I mean a place where you can run away to, where you will be happy.  I am sure I had one.
But I don't remember it now.

I was very sad. Sad about lot of things. I wanted to express this to someone. But I couldn't. It had repercussions. So the logical thing was to shut up and let the time pass by.

But then you cannot be silent forever. It suffocates you after some time. Then you think about the happy place. The place where you will be happy because that is the happiest place you have been to.

So many places came by when I tried to go there. Like those pictures that are rotated to get a feel of motion, they zipped passed my vision. It was like there was no happy place for me. Atleast not a true one.

I am quite disappointed about the fact that even after all these years I didn't have a happy place where I could take a recluse. 

Or perhaps, I didn't need one before.

I never wanted to run away there. I never had done that before. Until now.

May be I need to have a happy place. A place where I will be a bystander, watching what is happening and being happy about it.

Marseille and Whys

Sometimes you fall into a dream while sleeping only to know that you have been only sleeping when you get up. That is what life in Marseille was all about.

On a windy and cold morning in November I came here. I came in with nothing and I am going back with everything. I haven't gained anything that I wished for. But I gained so many things that I never asked for. I did not learn anything new but I gained so much insight into my life. Things I never would have learned in the busy streets of India.

I know it was just a dream. Now I have woken up to my life.

Life became slow. A curious ponder about infinite mundane things that I could otherwise wouldn't have ignored in the plethora of distractions. It defined a sufficient, necessary and absolutely necessary things I require in my life.

Sometimes it takes a lifetime to understand what one wants. But once you find what you really want then you have life to live, you think everything is figured out. Wrong, the biggest irony is you know what you want but you can't do it.  You are bounded by your own strings that you got attached with over the period. It is a curse I believe.

Back in Bangalore, I see instances of Marseille. And those instances take me back there at least for moment. Some times you ask the question of Why. Why you went there ? Why you left there? and so many other whys. I have learned to laugh at my idiocies. But I think sometimes there is a tear or two that drops when I laugh at them. But then thats life. Isn't it ?   

Broken laws

I am writing this post for the second time. The first time because of unfortunate reasons, it could not be saved. So here it goes.

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I thought only in India you can stop a train and make it wait until all your family and friends from the village in the horizon have boarded. But apparently in France too, you can do this. This is an account of the story that happened last Saturday.

On Saturday morning we were on our way to Island of Porquorolles. It is the most the visited island of France after Corsica. To reach there, we took a train to Hyeres, then a bus to Tour Fondue. In the morning when we took the bus, we covered this distance in 25 minutes. From there we took a ferry to the island.

In summer, Porquorolles is like a green dry patch in the blue hue that encompasses it. It is filled with gorges and calanques along with olives, grapes and some other rare vegetations. To cover the island before the end of the day, we hired bikes. As soon as we started, we missed the turn that would have kept us on the route the rental bike told us. But the badass overconfident bunch we are, we missed it.
After toiling for almost half a day and discovering the island in a very strange manner,  we decid to go back. But not before the customary dip in the Mediterranean. That was epic! It was stunning blue water and quite calm to swim around.

As per our plan,  we were supposed to take the 8.02 PM train. That was the last train to Marseille from Hyeres. As per our estimate and also, the god aka google maps, it would take us 25 min to reach Station from Tour Fondue. This was verified by each of us when we came in. So we took 6:00PM ferry from the island to Tour Fondue. When we reached the dock at around 6.30 the bus to station was already waiting. Few of my friends were already queueing up to take the tickets. The bus to station was every 15 min. So ideally we could borrow 30 minutes to roam around the city of Hyeres.

I think I was salesman in my last birth. I sold to my friends the idea that we can take 7:00 PM bus. After the sale, I roamed around Hyeres. At sharp 7:00 we boarded the bus with gleeful faces.

As soon as the bus started to move, we caught a glimpse of catastrophe that is going to strike us. We were going to be late because of the snail like traffic. The god, after estimating all odds were saying that we will reach by 8.02PM . That is going to be close. Or nearly stating the fact that we are going to miss the train.

Except for 3 us, everybody else had an invisible streak of sweat on their forehead. We were poking each other and telling the tales of people could stop train in India. But inside our head we knew how this out turn out. No place to go, people getting frustrated, accusations etc.

We reached the station at 8.02 PM as predicted by the god. I ran towards the platform. As I was entering the platform, I saw the station master. We asked in which platform 8.02 PM train was, the guy gave a blank look. Then somebody found that it was in Platform C. Normally there is an underground passage to connect from one platform to another.  I started frantically searching for them. Then it occurred to me that, since the station was small,  we had to run towards the end of platform and literally cross it. We started running towards the end of the platform.

Somehow I reached the end of the platform only to see the guard giving the signal to the driver. He was going to close the door. I gasped and in my sign version of French language, I asked him to wait for my friends. Then guy 1 came and joined me.

We both were waiting and seeing the "Tamasha" that was happening across the platform

Guy 2 was running with shorts coming loose. So he stops in mid way and tightens his shorts and then starts to run again! The way he did would make anybody laugh and roll over.

Guy 3 was running towards the end of the platform to cross but he suddenly stops and then retracts. He starts to run in the opposition direction. Guy 4 stops him. They are telling something which we can't here. Apparently Guy 3 thought he forgot his goggles so he was going back to collect it. Guy 2 was telling him that it is still on his face! 

Gal 1 is looking for Guy 4. Checking behind first when he was actually in front of her

Now comes the epic scene

Gal 2 walking leisurely to the end of the platform. By this time everybody is inside the train is waiting for her to come. However to everybody's' horror she walks  leisurely. Everybody started to shout asking her to speed up. After sometime she cuts the platform and come in. 

The guard is not screaming saying that he is going to loose his job. The train is late by 2 min when we started to move!

Winding Tunnel and the Music

I was in Paris this week. I got down at Franklin D Roosvelt Metro Station and I had to catch Metro 1 to connect to Louvre. A series of twist and turns takes you from Metro 9 to Metro 1. I love them. There is a sense of romanticism that creeps in when you walk through them. A subtle happiness of how your life turned out to be. About what you were and what you became. Nothing great compared to many greats. But it is a simple realization that life, as such, is simply beautiful.

While walking towards my next boarding point, I could hear a faint music from guitar. It perfectly matched my thoughts. Like a beautiful ode to that simple, yet beautiful moment. I laughed with all the innocence my chubby cheeks could offer.

He wore a grey jacket with the guitar case in his front. He had few coins in it. The lady walking before me added one more. Then she raised her head and our eyes met for a shimmer. There was a smile on her face. May the same that I had.

The pace I was walking, I passed him briskly. May be I saw a CD cover. May it was his own. Then I had this sudden urge to tip him. I frantically searched for a coin in my wallet. I had few cents. May be 80. I stopped walking, turned and started walking towards him. Nobody was behind me. Except for the  tunnel and the man playing the guitar there was nobody.  I put the coins in his case and told a thank you.

Another beautiful night in Paris. Oh Paris, Je t'aime!!!

Random nights

Beyond what there is, there is more. And sometimes even more.

What I eyes don't see. Yet visible enough, in a shade and in a language which only heart can  understand.

Cold breeze from the port mouth ran its icy fingers, to freeze thoughts which, now, come as random guesses. Or are they? 

Under the bus stop sign, the man in black jacket stood. His impatience engraved on  his pale forehead. May be for the bus that was late or may be for the baby who waited for him, back at home. Or may be just like that. 

Another set of icy fingers touched and shivers ran again. Hood of the black jacket, covered his unshaven face. He has been waiting for before we came. May be he will come in the same as mine. From the distant horizon, the yellow lights of the bus became visible. It was speeding towards us, as if its sole purpose is to meet us.

My friend gave me a  bisou and we parted. I walked towards the bus, expecting what the man in black jacket would do.

As I boarded the bus, I paused for a second, like giving a way for the man in black jacket to enter. But he didn't. The bus started to move. I saw him standing there with the same worried expression.

For few minutes, I racked my brains for the multiple reason about his expression. There were plenty but none seemed to fit exactly into the situation.

It was time for the Holmes to retire. I sat down and watched the shimmering lights pass by as the bus sped towards Redon.

#randomBullShits

Unsaid Intentions

F: Hi!
H: Hello..
F: What is up ?
H: Nothing much. Working in the lab.
F: So late?
H: We researchers work late. We have to.
F: So did you think about it?
H: Yes. I am a very simple guy. Wants to have very simple life and do simple things in life.
F: hehe...i am not that complex
H: Ya ya, I am a small town boy and you from a big city. I understand things.
F: lol
F: No i am not like that. But yes I do like to party and all.
H: See..
F: You dont like to ?
H: Not much
F: I feel like drinking today and then go for sleep.
H: hmm....
F: You don't drink no?
H: No. I don't drink coffee or tea also.
F: Never?
H: may be once in a blue moon. But thats it.
F: lol!!
H: We are village people, we don't know the ways of city.
F: lol!!
F: Listen can we meet sometime? It is been due for so long!
H: I am bit busy..
F: Everyday ?
H: Not everyday but yes, I work late.
F: What about this weekend?
H: Not possible, I will be in the lab.
F: What about dinner tomorrow then ?
H: what...so fast ? :P

Found in Padua

I took this picture while strolling through the streets of Padua. It is a small town  some 40 kms away from Venice. I saw somebody taking this shot. So like a robber, I sneaked into the position and took this shot.

While I was taking this picture, I thought it would be very good as it is.

After spending few minutes there, I moved on. I wandered across the streets of Padua and then got back to my hotel with an overtly aching pair of legs. I fell into deep sleep soon.

Few days later, once back home, I processed this photo. What came out of it was a mediocre photograph.  I was first annoyed at my own photography skills. I have been lazy in taking my camera out. Apparently, a DSLR has become too heavy for me. So I stopped clicking pictures. Pictures wherein i used to weave my words to express the world that I used to see. I started forgetting stories along with words, faces, music, hobbies, people, voices and many more. I do not why.

But when I closely observed the image, I found it to be beautiful. Much much beautiful than I initially thought it would be. I was slowly getting back what I had lost or started loosing.

To me it is perfect. And something so perfect that I wonder whether I clicked it. I am happy that I clicked it. I am happy that I saw that person clicking that picture. I am happy that I followed the sweet kid who was going to get an ice cream. I am happy that I got that ice cream. I am happy that I conversed with that old Italian lady at the ice cream shop in French. I am happy that she laughed and made me laugh and then fed me more icecream for less. I am happy that I stumbled upon parc de Velle from there, which was beautiful.

I understood that I have to click more. Because it leads me to me whom I lost for some time. 

A Fling to Remember

Sweltering heat of Cartagena did not slow them down. They had only few more hours together. She met him while touring, he was alone then. But tomorrow his brother joins him. In a non-serious manner,  he told a serious thing. He cannot tell about her to his brother. This would be a secret. A secret hidden in the dusty, wayward streets of Cartagena. And when they stopped making this love intoxicated with cocaine and alcohol, they would part their ways. That was the deal.

Passion spreading across fault lines of body, they became closer.

Done. Bathed in sweat and ecstasy, he fell on to her. That sweet smell of stench and French  perfume, now will not leave him. Or may be it will.

And when everything was to fall into place, she got up. Back at home, her boyfriend would be waiting for her. She quickly put on the clothes gutting down the guilt inside her throat. Trying hard to hide this tryst with a fellow backpacker, or may be more, she didn't now, into some abyss of her memory.

And they parted.

Next morning,  she saw him with his brother. They were walking across the street. The dark shades of her glass was not enough to hide the yearning in her eyes to be in his arms. Guilt was buried way deep in her memory. But he did not see her. Or rather, he pretended she was not there. They crossed the cafe she and her friend was sitting.

"Do you want to see him?" Her friend asked seeing the anguish and desperation.

"Yes"  She knew it at once.

The lies of life

A wayward journey,

off course perhaps,

to an unknown destination,

beyond chaos and confusion,

like a pristine water flowing through stream,

to a destination unknown,

hoping for a paradise never seen,

with a hope of better tomorrow,

a vicious circle,

followed by many, 

betrayed often at times,

taken to a land of the damned,

but then beauty of life stays,

in the journey you collect memories,

destination not cared ,

for not matter they are

In the wayward journey

I follow the shadow behind.

Lost in Paris

Paris - Probably the only place in the world where you will loose yourself to find you,again.
Like an ode played with memories casted  epitaphs, only to you. With the beautiful Seine, pristine as it was before and it will be tomorrow,  showing the meanders of your life. And you walk along the stone pavement, in midst of falling leaves of autumn, remembering things you have forgotten.

And they say Paris is the city of Lovers. Yes, it is indeed.
Makes one yearn for love or the love that was lost. Paris if visited alone resembles a beauty hiding behind a black veil. You know it is beautiful, you are eager to remove the veil and explore. However it demands more than a pair of hands to unveil them, as if a single pair alone cannot grab them and unveil them.

Without maps or a guide, the city takes you to the epicenter of romance - The Eiffel Tower. And here at Parc du Champ de Mars, you see it as how it should be seen. From different vantage points of the city, you  see it, you wonder how tall or big it is. But here, you are awed at the engineering masterpiece. More than the mesh of steel and complexity, Eiffel depicts the human spirit. In a very transcending triviality  giving you a picture of structured complexity which you search for in your life. And when you look up from underneath it, you see the complexity slowly dissolving into thin air in the end. Just like life.

Paris is beautiful and it beauty lies in how you look at it. Every time you visit it, it presents a different picture. Like a beautiful lady donning different attires matching the seasons that come and go. Paris is like a song which lingers in your mind. One you often hum to, which you cannot put off that easily.  Nevertheless the more you wishes to forget, it persists.

Paris has this strange paradoxical aura. Here you are a stranger yet you feel you know these places. You feel as if you stood here or there, a long time ago. You imagine people who have walked the same route like yours, years before and many, many years before that. As if you are part of a history, a panorama that spans a millennium. Perhaps this thought makes you introspect. Yes, Paris presents to you the what if possibilities. And the beauty there in.

Paris is much more than what can be penned down. It is a city where you have to soak in to enjoy. Don't try to understand it but choose to get yourself lost. Because then Paris find yourself for you. 

C'est la belle

Winding roads,
Bushed out turns,
Gravels of shades,
Beyond I looked.

Perched up eyes,
Warm salty breeze,
Invisible Crickets,
In between sounds of their love,
Impatient I was.

Slanting shadows,
Blue sky,
Castled between hills,
A scene stuck in between eyes,
Smiled I again.

White sand,
Sleepy shores,
Transparent blues,
Soaked my Brown skin,
Swam I to horizon.