Somethings Broken...

"Yeah, we broke up." How often I have heard this. How often I've wondered what it feels like.How often I've thought that its more an immature-ish thing. Something that the my world is learning from the west. How often I've wanted to laugh at the person who loudly acclaims 'Oh, yeah! I broke up with him/her' thinking to myself, oh, if it was that easy, I wonder if you even knew him/her.

But slowly its clearing up for me. That foggy vision, like the glass pane after a hot warm shower. Which one stands watching for a long long second and then you raise your hand to clear it. Slowly, until a familiar reflection starts to show themselves to you, again. For a long time, you are mesmerized by what you see.

But it only takes you a second to realize that the person you see is not the same. Something has changed. Something has changed. Of course, sometimes I wonder what has. Honestly, I have a sense of it but when I say it loud, it sounds similar to a lie, and so, quickly I take it back. It takes some time, and I continue watching the reflection, closely- trying to figure out what is that really has changed. After a minute, something else, catches my attention and I close my eyes. When I open them, I recognize it, that reflection.

Its from the memory of a minute before. And sometimes, thats all one needs to be reminded of what I am and what I' ve come to.

Of course, I do not know what to do and where to go from here, I have been here too long. But I'd like to say it to those who've had similar thoughts as mine. Breaking up is not easy for some. Especially if you have dreamed together too long. There are memories that bubble up each day. There are tears enough to fill your bubble and burst it too. That security of future, that hope for tomorrow. All is lost, in a moment. But damn that longing, and damn that pain - it just stays.

Somethings broken and I am broken up. Its not something that came to me with a click of my fingers. It came to me just like love had, snaking its way slowly by steadily towards me - towards all of me.  Its a realization that something is not right. Its not taking me the way I wanted to go. I had reached out several times, just like some one who is going to end their life would. After many attempts and many many rehearsals in mind, I decides to take that plunge.

And I did it.

Just like I had for love. This is the same as that. The only difference is that its more for the love of myself, than for the love of that someone else. I am at a crossroad and I know that what we had was something  of once in a lifetime. Often, I know, I ll wonder and look back. Often, I know I will have those thoughts. Often, I ll again steam up my windows and rub them only to see if that someone was really me. There is life ahead, and its a long long lonely one...

Trepidation Of Rejection

Rejected.

The word rolls between my tongue the way sometimes wine does. I feel the layers to this word, just like sometimes I do with wine. Many a times, I am unsure as to what I may find. And many a times, I know I have found it. Its a cat and a mouse game, you keep at it and you forget how much time you have lost, how many thoughts and how much life. Rejection. You keep coming back to it; just like how you go back to that glass of wine, even after you have devoured a good mouthful.

There is something sweetly bitter about being rejected. Its a love affair; where your mind goes numb a minute and your heart comes alive the next. You can feel nothing and yet you feel everything. This minute you can hear the sounds, the noises, the thoughts, and the feelings - all comes to a standstill. You feel disconnected from the world. Sucked into a vacuum where you can probably only hear the aberration of what was, and not what is.

Your world definitely changes. It actually stops.

But thats how you feel it. Its not what it really is. Rejection makes you come alive. The word 'NO' in different forms, variations and meanings can have the same impact in different situations.  There is little that you can do when you are hit by this phenomenon of rejection.

You can be anybody.

You may be a expecting mother looking forward to meet the doctor who'd help in your baby's delivery. And are rejected as the doctors book has no place for appointments.
or
You may be that boy who is looking to start a life and is waiting in a plush reception of his dream company and is 'Suited' for the interview. And your turn to interview never comes.
or
You may be me. Waiting, waiting so long that the wait seems to have never started. That the wait seems to have become your life. And then out of no where, you can feel it coming; the rejection - you can feel it in your bones.
or
You may be that boy who has conjured up the courage today to ask her out, finally. You put on your best shoes and your jacket. Wear your best smile and have that red rose handy. Only to hear that she is not free that way.
or
You may be that wife who after a long long day of work and chaos, finally comes to bed to her husband; looking for some comfort, some love, some appreciation. Only to see that he is busy and building his social ties and doesnt even notice your presence. 

Rejection hits us most times when we are filled with pride, or rather least with pride. When we know that there is something we have done that deserves some comfort, some recognition, some good, and some kind words. Rejection sweeps us off our feet and places us back on the ground level faster than the blink of that eye. It has been there since centuries and probably is the cause of many many heart aches.

Of course, I feel rejected today, and so my hearts alive yet numb. 

Why is it tha rejection makes me trepid. Why do I abhore being rejected. Is it because I am very highly positive in my approach. That in moment I am filled with hope and possibilities and the next all of it shatters with a not-nod.


Intrepidity: I must become intrepid to being turned down. Shamelessly, intrepid.

A Day Before 26 November, 2010...

I can't believe it. Days pass into months and months into years.And year after year just another day becomes a significant day that you'd rather not wait for. I'd rather not count those insignificant years gone by...

First, its the parents, celebrating milestones of something they created.Day after day they celebrate the lil things, little changes they see in their children. They lovingly called it 'growing up'. But really unknown to them,  they really celebrate their slow paced independence.They celebrate when the child first walks on their own and dint need their support. They celebrate the day they dint have to be by the child's side, and the child could stand on his own two feet. (Having said that, of course I agree, they have every reason to celebrate it because its not everyday that a child is born to you. That you create and develop something "alive" together, so celebrate it all the way Amma & Appa)

But what is ironical is that the child himself thinks that they are being celebrated. Its the noise, the happy faces, the happy attention span, and the easy attitude that distract him from the truth behind the reality. And so, its an illusion that he lives in, for a long long time. Because, long after he took his first step - and they celebrated. Long after he was on his own - and they celebrated. Long after all of that and they finished celebrating; the child continues to celebrate. He stood there proudly clapping his non - achievements. He stood there standing tall celebrating his mundane life. He stood there with a happy gait and a happier smile celebrating, oblivious to his own loss of childishness or for the loss of a better word, childhood.

What is unknown to him is that future may no longer bring the same security and comfort of being taken care of, of being blindly dependent, and of being careless and free are soon to be gone replaced with burdens of responsibility and grudging reality that life is no child's game. And that its time to turn the tables soon, that what you took for granted, may not be; like the food on the table and the washed and ironed clothes. Or even the comforting warm arms or the morning sounds of chores.

That what comes is made of adults and adulteration.

For so much that has gone missing, I refuse to count today. I refuse to move on. I refuse to say that I ll be a year older. I refuse to let the memories be bygone. I refuse to say that I ll be dying soon one day (I know, kinda dramatic). I refuse to be a year closer to 25, or wait is it 52? I refuse to let go of them, my loved ones. I refuse it, I refuse it all.

Today, I ll live another day - like its my only one. But please don't celebrate it & please dont let it be Happy or Merry. Just today - this one day, please.

Understanding a Vamsi; Understanding a Free Spirit

Often insignificant conversations bring you to understand the most significant things about life. Today, one of the most insignificant conversations with the man made me feel how inherently free and spirited he is. How he is made out of the jungles and grasses and animals and rocks and birds and trees. Just like in the free times. Just like in the olf old times.

I could picture him running wild with the wild as we spoke. The sun moved from the east to west following his pace.

It was a harsh reality that in the space of virgin and untouched wild wild lands, the spaces were now filled with building and parks. And in the space of the free animals the place was milling with herds and crowds of people. My vision of seeing him leap high towards the sky, suddenly shattered as there was nothing to cushion his jump. No lush green grass - only concrete that struck.

And with that, I feel dejected. And de-spirited. 

Showering Sparrows!

 

So, I guess those who know me well know that I Love Sparrows. They are the cutest creatures in the whole world. At home a few years ago there used to be a bunch of sparrows living in a bush. But its been years since I have seen one at home, happily jumping and playing with each other. 

So, coming to the point, a few weeks back I had made a trip to Hampi, and guess what - the sparrows were there! Not just a bunch but in abundance. Every thatched roof had a family of sparrows, and so did every buss behind a rock. It was a delight watching these little wonders swing from one place to the other attached to each other with a spring.

Sparrows have a way with dancing and fluttering. And I can sit in a place and watch their energized activity for hours without moving a limb. If you watch them long, they ll tell stories. Some good ones, of happy times and some bad - of survival.

 Sparrows have become non - existent in our surrounding and we know why. We forgot about them. Simply. These small lil beings who are so known be so involved with themselves and their daily chores. We forgot about them cause we got involved in us, and ours. 

Anyways, its not time for lecture. The reason why I am writing this post is to share one of the most joyous occasions of my life. Showering Sparrows. :) Okay, more like Bathing Sparrows! 

So, I was walking back from one of the ruins early morning. The road was muddy and had puddles of water in several places after the incessant rains from the night before. So, trying to skip and miss these pools of water, I was returning to my guest house when out of no where these sparrows came fluttering. 

I stopped in my tracks as I had spend quite some time trying to take pictures of them since my visit but they are so fast its almost impossible. So, when they came flying out of the bush - obviously I froze in my tracks. I had no idea that I was in for a big treat. One after the other, in a few seconds there were about 8-10 sparrows. Some male and some female.

All of them came and stood beside these muddy pools of water and started to take a dip in the water. 5 of the females decided to take one pond while the rest 5 males decided to take the other. And they dipped and playyed and cleaned themselves, while I happily did a sparrow dance and took these shots. 

I know, there must be better shots of them - but for me these really are the best - cause they have a dream come true wish behind them. Cause these have a story that ll be shared with many. And I am glad I was part of the Sparrow Kingdom for once :)

 

Although this whole incident must have lasted less than a second. For me it was a moment of a life time. When my silent wish to the sparrows-to-hold,-so-I-could-take-a-picture came true.

Value & Values

are important.

Values to keep you going, on the right path. To give the insight to see the right signs. To be the guiding forces when you have to choose.

Value, that tells you that what you do is important. That what you are is important. That the choices you make are important and valued.


To them, I devote myself.

Things on my mind:

1. CWG and Delhi; Kalmadi having the guts to stand on the stage and speaking on behalf of India. India; boo'ed.

2. The death of 7 elephants by a speeding goods train. The elephants were on the track to save two elephant kids who were stuck at the crossing. Elephants being the social beings that they are, couldnt abandon their offsprings and so stayed until their last breath. However, I wonder what the Train Driver was busy doing; blind to the travesties of the tracks. I dearly mourn them.

3. The 5 pups who have now grown into cutey balls of fur, and have the cutest and most funnest gait. They are just 4 weeks old and are looking for homes. Its so easy to give a dog home, they are no nonsense pets and condition and adjust to their masters life styles very well. My heart would die to see my babies go to blue cross instead of homes. Hope...

4. Babri Masjids Verdict: As much as I am amazed and surprised at the 'peaceful' proceedings after the verdict, I am not satisfied with it though. Where is justice. If two people quarrel for a land, do you just take a knife and cut it equally? What about rightful ownership? I am all for the muslims, and their cause. There was some wrong done, how can we ignore it as History? If we do, only then - History repeats itself. We must learn.

5. Gandhis birthday, and so was Lal Bahadur Shastri. I respect Shastri ji for his humble, yet strong nature. Some of his words and thoughts will continue to be a part of what I know as India's Freedom Struggle. Jai Jawan Jai Kisan and HIndi Cheenii Bhai Bhai. Heres to two most respected and wonderful Mahatmas born to India.

Well Played, Time. Well Played.

Sometimes life takes you too far from where you were standing, too fast too for your understanding.
Sometimes you find yourself in places where you never thought you'd see yourself at.

Sometimes, in life, you will find that before you can infer from the course of events as to what is really taking place, you may have drifted too far apart. Sometimes, you can see yourself drifting, mesmerized by the slow motion at which you are set adrift; you think you can close your eyes and still  just be around. Alas, before you wake up to realise, you are far too long gone and away to come back where you were, caught unaware by the motion of the rapid forces of the erstwhile slow and gentle liquid  .

Time is steadfast yet dynamic. It stares at you blankly, slowly ticking those seconds deceiving you to believe that you are in solitude.That you have a moment to spare - to wait, to let go. The sporadic movement to me meant that things will change but in time. How Conniving. How misleading.


Right now, all I can say is Time, played well.

Insensitivity, slows crops into all my lives. Insensitivity comes with all the dis connectivity brought in. Insensitivity is all those things I do for myself. I am more for myself than for the other.

Disconnected. I had wanted to be - cause it pains less, hurts less as you are less involved. Disconnected I am so much that I put myself before me.

Its new for me, I am living it.

Whats On Your Mind?

Those are a few words that I see on many spaces. Not the same words - but similar.  Facebook, Twiite and Buzz I just keep shifting between these 3. And My mind keeps shunting with me.

But really, I have nothing much to say these days. My mind works just the way it ought to - while at work think of work. While at home think of home -  which means zilch. Nothing. There is nothing up there these days. No wonderful thoughts, no questions to ponder, no answers to give.

Do I dislike it - I don't know. I dont. I dont want to. I am here because I think I wanted to be. And now that I am here, what would it make me if I said - I hate it? So, I dont. I am dead brained - and loving it!

So, yes, answer to that question is - really - I forgot I had a mind in the first place.


Thank you!

So..

What if I walk out of this place today?



Now?



Its been a nice journey, offlate its been unfortunate and unkind. I have been passionate and positive. But my times running short. My life is running short. I wanted to stay for a while longer... but what if I walk out now? :(


Although very alluring, this thought is very impractical.





but is it worth all of this?


some questions running through my mind a hundred times every minute of every day. 

I am in my happy place :) No comments or posts from me for a while should be considered a positive thing.

His surgery went well and he chugging towards being awesome again :P I am visiting him in a days time. Cant wait :)

Laila's resided - too bad. I was enjoying the lovely weather out here. But the Met dept. says that monsoons will be here in no time. Thats great right? :) No complains - as much as I love the rain I love the sunshine too!

The Air India Crash (Boeing 737-800) recently near Mangalore was heart wrenching to hear. I have not switched on my TV or heard it on the radio, or read it in the newspapers. The news reported in writing, online were enough for me to understand the graveity of the situation. Blessed were the 8 who survived. Accidents happen, and lives are lost. There is a black hole that is left behind by the ones gone. And all you can do is miss them. There is nothing you can do about it. There is no more one can say. For people like me who are bystanders - we can only empathise for the pain. And think there time had come - lucky them.

Its a nice feeling to visit your blog in a long time, and find comments on posts from ppl you have never met. :) I have never advertised my blog. Its not on any of my social networks. I want ppl to know of it randomly. I feel that when you tell your world that you have a blog, they become biased towards you. I like my vulnerable - waiting to be surprised world.  Heart felt thanks for spending a whole lot of time your precious reading about me, and my life. Thank you for passing this space.

Peaceful tonight. ciao

My world, Their Worlds...

Today for the first time, the thought and talk of wedding and tying a knot brought tears to my eyes. I cried. Everythings okay, and yes although I am looking forward to a companion in my best friend. It suddenly dawned on me that I'd have to leave behind all this, and My Parents.

My Dad started his journey young. A fighter, right where he belong, with Fighter Planes. My mum was drawn towards art. She fell in love with oil and colors. They met, and my dad loved her since then. She still doesn't know, neither does he.  But I do. Cause I came along, soon. Much too soon. But you ll get to know that later in this post. They have been together for 25 years. This June they ll complete 25. Yet sometimes to me they sound and look like newly weds. 

My parents, each have had a life. Before they were a couple. Before they were married. A life that was full of love, laughter, family and friends. The both had their share of Good Times. And even after they were together  pre and post wedding they had enough on their plates to keep them occupied for a lifetime. But some where, we happened. I being their first born, I should say, I happened. They dint travel with each other anymore. There was always me alongside. My dad when he took off dint just think of my mum he left behind at home, he though of me too. My mum when she said her good bye to him every morning, dint just think of herself, she though of me.

Lucky for them, I thoroughly enjoyed traveling. So, they never had a baby sitter, never left me with neighbors. I always tagged along. Be it farewell parties, or places where only ppl taller than 4' go. :P I tagged along. Some times on foot, sometimes in the cars back seat. Some times hanging for my life on the bike. Or sometimes, tugged snugly in a basket, or a helmet.

I have never been left back in a road trip, they always wanted the whole bunch of us to travel with them. They never felt the urge to be with each other, since the last 23 years, they accepted me. As their own. In there 25 years of being together, I was there for around 24 years (9 months cooking :P). They ve loved me, laughed with me. They just took me in like I was always there. They fought with me, they fought for me. They completely gave themselves to bringing me up. Their conversations moved from each other to "Shubhi" and then the kids, smoothly transitioning. Even after so many years, with oh my daughters' still a baby updates being a part of the past, my dad when meeting old time buddies first brings them upto date about "Shubhi" and then follow other stories.

Somewhere I always knew at the back of my mind that they had done all these things. That they had let a third person enter their lives and live with them. Instead of questioning my presence they took me in, loved me bits and nurtured me whole heartily. Its only today I am hit by all of this, at such an intense level. I suddenly am aware that someday very soon, I'd be expected to do things as selflessly as they did. Someday soon, the conversations will have to shift to someone else, and be about someone else.  It really hit me that soon it may not be about me, or him. Could be about us, or could very well be about someone new.

Only when the seriousness of a marriage dawned on me, did I completely realize the things both of them had together, and individually, and may have had lost when they had found me. By the looks of it, it does really look like they discovered each other again. May be they never even missed themselves much.

But they lived such simple lives. So simply.

And I, I am soo complicated. I am sure they never questioned what was happening. Like I am today. They never questioned when the lives they lived were altered due to us. I am so thankful to both of them, as I know that both have tried in the best ways they knew to give me the best of the world.

I also realized that I dont, and may never know the complete story of my parents life. The world, their world. It remains in the past. The decisions they take, and why they do certain things will always be a mystery as they have lived it. Already. And I may never be ready to hear their stories, or understand them. Ever.

I cannot stop here, and not move forward. I must as this seems to be the direction where my life wants to go.
I am not sure if I will be as giving and unconditionally unconditional as they have been. I am not sure if I ll even be as receptive to new people as they have been. But they have taught me some things, certain things, these I ll take along for the rest of my life.

And although, soon I may not be in the same drawing room as them, watching my dad act crazy, while my mum laughs along. Or see my dad come and hug Rover in the night lovingly, and sleep beside him on the floor. Or watch my mum complain about the maid servant to my sister. Or sit and make fun of dad's new recipe. Or even laugh until my stomach hurt after dancing like mad with Ma and them. I know I ll be missed. I know that once I am out, there may never be looking back. There may never be a time like this. :(  But they are so strong. So grounded, I hope I draw strength from this and I am able to pass the current.


P.s while I am feeling all these emotions, how much of a coincidence it is that this will be my 100th Post. So, here is to my Mum & Dad. Both of whom, I love unconditionally.

My 100th and more,
Lovingly,
Shubhi.

I look up...

Some times, we allow our life to drive happiness out of one or a dew sources. This is not a very ideal way of living, the wise say. I guess because, as easily these conditions pick you up and help you soar the skies, same way, its easy for them to drop you back down there. May be having several sources would be like having best friends with eagles and storks. If one drops you, the other picks you up mid way and takes you a different direction.

Yes, ideally I'd love to have multiple sources not a handful as I do now. But, I am here, and I know that one of my sources is shining bright. The shining star blinds me, and I am dazzled. There isnt much I can do as I am glued to my feet. And so, I helplessly let go. Let go off all my inhibitions, and feel lightened thanks to the much heavy weight I have shed. And so, I start to float. Just like it happens in water, you rise up... slowly but surely. And before I can acknowledge what is happening, I am flying. High :)

He is visiting soon. 9 days more to go. :) At last, the excitements building (All is normal here, thank god!) :) I am also looking forward to a loong break from work and indulging into things I love to do. :) Travel, click click, swim, cook, dance, singa - ringa and laugh :) Like, laugh enough to satisfy all that I have missed in the many many days past. I am looking forward to some refreshment and refreshing freshness he brings with his perspective. Yes, I am also looking forward to the madness. I am looking forward to being pampered, just enough. And doing little things and drawing happy memories for a lifetime. Needless to say, I am looking forward to intense discussions on varied topics. Its a lovely feeling - this anticipation, and this knowledge that we are both here to listen and understand each other more. It comes with being around each other, we let go off a little on our own, and a little more in each others company.

Revisiting ruins and old times, making new and building few :) Its all a part of why I am so mad about you. Here is a picture that totally dipicts this madness albeit logically!


Song For The Mood

Unlike, all times, java software is blocked on my comp so, I am unable to download this beautiful video and connect it directly to my site. Sorry, to listen, you will have to go to Youtube :) Here's Let Go!

Love, & Random. Note to self.

Anxious. Can't sleep.

There was a time when Love to me was all beautiful things. When it was tender and soft and carefree. Like a walk in the meadows, or a Poppy orchard with the butterflies fluttering for company. When trying to replicate my feelings, I couldn't come up with any less than this for them. 

Today I feel like a sham. There is not much that is tender or vulnerable. It gets frustrating if I try too hard as I sound less original. The more I try, the more I hate. In the past, I have never had as many drafts as I do today.

My expressions of self only seem to make me loath my self more these days, leave alone let them feel my love. Then again, I wonder if this is really love anymore. But before I let that thought take me into a complete tangent, I must remember that I cant always be searching for 'that love' cause that love too gets boring, if lived too often. Its like reading the same lines again and again, the first few times you may feel the enthu, but after a few reads, your eyes and mind gets trained to ignore and move on

Anyways, I think I cant sleep, only cause I have gotten used to a good night call since for ever! When Beethovan and John Keats felt the way we did, and we able to describe it better, then I guess, I may have a chance too. Its not time yet. I must open myself to feel my wings, and believe that I can create wonderful things if I open my heart again to feel them. If I start seeing them again, as I once saw them, for the first time.

For that I may have to have a hundred and one conversations with this mind of mine. I may have to kill or bribe. Or I may just have to fall in love all over again. What ever it may be. Tonight I am going to spend in hope that when it comes to me, it takes my life force with it, like it did then.

Until then, this night does need company, so do I.

Drums Circle. A Connected Experience Of Euphoria & Peace.

All deep things are a song.

And there is a song for every feeling, emotion or situation in our lives. And while we are feeling these songs, another experience comes along that makes us one with our music even more. It happened to me today when I wasn’t for once listening to a song, but being the song. Making a song and moreover, creating that music.

Most of us swear by that loooong drive experience where that trippy trance drenches you thoroughly with its rhythm, inviting you to take plunge into the heaven we call nature. I know, to some I am going to sound random, arbit to an extent.

Apologies.

Today was one of those highly moving days of my life. One of those days where I stood still but every part of my body, cell, and muscle moved to the beat and the rhythm. Sometimes some experiences can only be lived, and however much you try to explain to share. You realize you do a shabby job because the experience was in that moment. Having said that, I am still going to give it a try.

Hope.

I had left my home not very happy, and I reached the park welcomed not by the familiar gates to keep away trespassers, but by a crane digging the road and blocking the entrance of the place. Another thing that puzzled me was the stench of the lake. On top of it all there was traffic that was haphazard. I could have easily let my spirits die right there, but something told me to hold it.

Thank God.

The entrance to the park to my surprise was not through the gate but through the hidden bridge which made me feel like a child. Excited for what lay ahead was unknown to us, and that meant Adventure. Yay! We walked into the park. (Sukriti, and a surprise meeting sandeep in the parking) The sun would slowly head to its home, but right then it was sunshine. We were welcomed by the sound of the beat of drums.

Divine Intervention.

To a walker, or a jogger it looked like a set of weird people come together with weird instruments. We were of course a group in all sizes and shapes. There were old girls of may be 5 to young uncles of 50+. There were the Big Drums, the Djembes, the Tambourines, the Dholaks, the Congos, the Ghoonroos, the Cymbals and some more that I do not know the names of. :P It was definitely a weird set. ;)

Chaos as it comes.

In the middle of the circle was man who was dancing along with the music – Vikram Badhwar the lead. The music they created was perfect. Yet, later I got to know most in that circle had never played an instrument before. It dint take me too long find a place and choose my instrument. Mine was the smallest one, a pair of Cymbals. It was only few minutes when I caught on to the rhythm and started moving to the beats. 

It begins.

With no inhibitions, we played by just listening and feeling the beats. Going by our instincts. I banged the Cymbals together whenever I heard that space which the sound of my cymbal could fill. And it did :) My Cymbal partner, Shilpa was so much fun with an easy smile and willingness to wait for me to catch on. That was all I needed. An occasional wink and an exchange of smile sukriti and those in the circle only made me feel more connected. The energy was flowing through all of us. It was wonderful, because it’s not every day that you are a part of an experience such as this.

Percussion or Passion?

It wasn’t the war of the titans, or a jugalbandi between the instruments or their players. It was just that each one, no matter what size or sound they produced was distinct and pure. As important yet depended on the other. A perfect harmony and balance, just like in life we play with strangers we meet and greet.

Alive.

We were all immersed in our own world of music with our instruments, yet, there was rhythm with the rest of the circle. Not one out, not one in. Not too fast, not too slow – just right. United I felt with strangers I hadn’t met, or may never meet. It wasn’t too long before I found myself into a trance. Living every moment and every pause that was filled with the pulsating music.

Euphoria.

If being music can feel this way, you won’t believe how silence feels after this. It was moving, a sudden cacophony of sounds of nature that hit me like I had just woken up for the first time. It was in a few moments of continued silence that the vibrations in my body and the sounds of the birds started to sound like the music we had just played. The feeling lingers for it’s been a long time since. I loved every moment of being a part of the drums circle. It was an experience of a lifetime.

Peace.

Thank you Bhumi.

Wow, never noticed it had been 2 years!

So, my timeline reads that this wilderness is 2 years 1 week and 6 days old... :)

Dont know when we crossed the two years mark, but I am mighty proud. A bit late, but yayy! Its my blog b'day month I say :D

Okay, I know another crappy post... but I promise soon, I will write something that puts all these crazy posts to shame ;)

Hang in there

Insane, Abnormal.



What have I done to deserve this?

:D

Was suffering a serious issue with writers block for a while there.
There were too many thoughts, contradicting that were confusing me.
Enough to not be able to segregate them, and write about each.

But today, after a very long time, I feel free, and good.
May be its the sunday. May be its just the thought of being able to write again

:) May be its just my rambling ;D

Anyways, I am back, and you should look forward to more from me, of me

Samvidha!

And I am Bizzy, Busy is more like it.
Interesting, with what may be the next question,
Answer would be - I dont know.

Honestly,