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A sublime weekend !



What a fabulous weekend! As I write this, I am completely soaked in abundance of fantastic creativity, drama and great fun that I witnessed and experienced in last two days. Some days pass so quickly and so much happens during that time that when you look back, the slideshow of the happenings is too large to contain!



On Saturday morning, I went for shoot with a group of photographers to Kala Ghoda Arts Festival, in the city. (For the readers who are not familiar with Mumbai, here is the link, http://www.kalaghodaassociation.com/ ). KGAF, an eagerly awaited event in the city is an oasis of art and culture and a great refuge from the typically enervating urban existence. This festival is a space that offers potpourri of intellectualism, cultural trends and amazing artistic creations that nurture energies and ignite some magical marvel. 




The festival was not officially declared open and stalls were still being set when we reached.  Soon we realized we were too early for the photo shoot. However, some of us managed to capture the brilliant installations that were being displayed. Albeit, I will be visiting this festival during this week again and again as it is impossible to catch up with all the workshops, theater, performances, films, heritage walks, music, dance, literature and all other fascinating activities that are major attractions for any creative soul. 

 

I Love art and when a festival of this scale takes place, there is so much to see, learn, absorb, think, enjoy and get completely immersed in! It is such a visual treat. I spent only a few hours but   am still brimming with enormous sense of wonder and anticipation.



There is this lovely feeling when I experience nexus of creativity and seminal discoveries and try to make sense of abstract things.  What follows in that clear headed intellectual and creative cadence is the experience of mosaic of topics rushing in my mind and set my spirits high.  



One of the few regrets I have in life is not being able to draw or paint. But when I get opportunity to witness such fantastic creative work, it is a humbling experience. Observing so many young people thinking out of the box, creating art and finding a way to their expression is an experience that feels almost spiritual.





On Sunday, hubby surprised me by taking me to Signature Derby; another enthralling event that was an interesting mix of Hi fashion, great horses, high spirits and high drama of music and dance ! Unfortunately, I did not have my camera or cell phone to click pictures with. 


What amazed me was the way people were dressed. With so many ladies dressed in fashionable hats and clothes, I felt guilty for having missed out a great opportunity to click interesting things. For first time in life, I bet on a horse and lost some money but enjoyed the rush watching the race.


Life unfolds so many interesting facets that sometimes it becomes difficult to keep up with its pace. Past two days have been whirlwind of great fun! With just a few hours spent at the Kala Ghoda Arts Festival and Signature Derby, so many new vistas have opened up. What remains to be seen is how the osmosis of all that I could comprehend at these two interesting events brings out something new at intellectual and creative level deep inside me. It is this very journey that is fascinating and this continuous process of finding my-self anew, with every interlude is what makes me feel alive! 


This is one of the ways I celebrate life and I love it immensely!  


When the leaves fall, in solitude of night

I have just returned from a very short trip to Baroda after attending shraddha (a Hindu ritual performed for deceased parents/ancestors) of my mother. I must admit, my heart has become little heavy and spirit weary. The pain of losing my mother is seething all over, once again. 

Sunday, was my mother's first death anniversary and my entire family had gathered. Naturally, some conversations drew painful emotions and tapped the new spaces of tender aches that surfaced in many ways. I knew those wounds were buried inside those dark spaces that I find too fragile to handle.

During shraddha; so many stories regarding my mother came tumbling out from our minds, layered with nostalgia and made us experience deep turmoil once again. It is strange how every reminder of a person being no more with us snaps something new every time from our core. The silent understanding of my mother's departure and surrendering to the truth has finally taught me to survive each day and smile despite the pain.

Death is the ultimate truth about life and yet when it visits us we are never prepared. When my mother died, after suffering seriously for two painful months, she had a halo around her beautiful face and she looked absolutely at peace and blissful even in her death! It surprised even doctors and nurses who had taken care of her in the battle of life! 

I would end this post with one of my mother's favourite poems by Ravindranath Tagore:

Death

"O thou, the last fulfillment of life
 Death, my death, come whisper to me!

 Day after day I have kept watch for thee;
 for thee I have borne the joys and pangs of life.

 All that I am that I have, that I hope and all my love
 have ever flowed towards thee in depth of secrecy'

 One final glance from thine eyes
 and my life will ever thine own.

 The flowers have been woven
 and garland is ready for the bridegroom.

 After the wedding bride shall leave her home
 and meet her meet her lord alone in solitude of night...."




Love. Celebrate. Pray.

In India, anything that is remotely associated with a wedding has to be on a grand scale! Past three days; life has been on grand celebration mode, courtesy, silver wedding anniversary of a cousin. Somehow, the rhythm of our home has managed to comply, all the demands of time and energy with great excitement that always surrounds such occasions. 


I guess, the most delightful part of such celebrations is in sudden collision of kaleidoscopic nostalgia that comes tumbling out, wafting to you and gripping your heart what it recalls uninvited. The never ending conversations over meals, laughter and the stories narrated by everyone present during mehendi, sangeet and many other occasions, allow people to discover new vistas of belonging and nurtured energies that such celebrations stand for. 

The incredible journey of twenty five years of togetherness holds distinctive imprints of the spirit that resonates in the love shared not only between the couple but between family members and extended circle of loved ones who serve as a sanctuary where everybody finds a perfect comfort zone and are accepting of one another. It is a privilege not many are fortunate to earn.

The mehendi on my palms might fade with time. My emotional self that has spilled over at the times least anticipated during these three days of abundant love and sharing is going to visit me again. I am going to welcome it and thank God for showering so many blessings without ever having to ask for them. 


One step closer to Satori

Being a person who thrives in urban, metropolitan chaos; it is a reward to find some time alone, just by myself, doing nothing. I crave for absolute isolation and embrace it at every possible opportunity. 

When I get such chance, I completely shut myself from outside world and am happy with my cave like world, a womb of complete peace, deep inside my cerebrum. No books, cell phone, camera, music, television, internet or interaction with anyone is required. The only agenda, if at all, is to be alone with myself or be somewhere close to Nature. Recently, I stumbled upon my "silence zone" when hubby and son planned some "boys stuff" for themselves.

I went to Sanjay Gandhi National Park early morning on Sunday and walked leisurely. These experiences are always soaked with sacred moments of deep rooted piety. There is something amazingly different about the rambling of woods and grooves that are part of this wild world of forest which unfolds its mystery of obscure ruggedness. The disorder compared to the order of the garden in my building where I live, has an element of surprise. The neat and well manicured garden holds exquisite infinities of peace which is fascinating but so different from what the forest offers! The chirping of birds, slowly catching up with the new day amid the serenity of forest sounds, fragrances and rhythm is heavenly. 

I love to see intricate labyrinth of plants weave into one another and branches of trees bending and brushing against my face and ruffle my hair, when I pass. It is a sign of my presence being acknowledged! Forests exude solemn tranquility and one feels insignificant standing under the grand scale of giant trees. The strong fragrance of some plants and flowers, take you back in nostalgia of reckless, childhood days of gay abandon in the woods. 


On a routine day, no matter how hard I try to distance myself from all possible noise, there is a constant struggle in comprehending how much of outside world should I shut out and how much should I let in.  My mind is an utterly incoherent space, where there are fleeting moments of sanity and calm and before those moments settle down, they go scattering into other convoluted configurations. Albeit, my exterior composure will never let anyone have a slightest glimpse of the inner circus.  Perhaps, both wild and tamed are facets of emotion that need to co exist with compatible rhythm.  

The quiet surroundings of the forest, compels me to indulge in meditative self reflection. These are the moments of nurtured energies that translate into life changing spaces. Such moments hold me silent, transformed and tuned with myself, in some magical space. There is this strange equation of the quiet and the tumulous and I seem to be at perfect peace with it! I find that wonderful moment when everything in the universe seems exactly the way it should be.  Every single cell of my body, mind and soul, is in unison with the universe and its rhythm and there is nothing more left to be attained. That’s the divine moment when it feels as if I have attained Satori. 




Wounds of survival !

I was returning from the bakery after picking up the cake, ordered for the New Year party at my home. Looking at the crazy traffic and the crowded roads, I started walking faster; worrying if I would reach home on time before all the friends arrived. It was a struggle, walking amid the traffic to reach my car. The cacophony was growing way beyond the decibel levels any human being could possibly take! Suddenly, in all the chaos, I heard refreshing sound of tinkling of anklets; followed by some slow drum beats and glass bangles, heading slowly towards me. 




When I looked around, it was an imposing sight! There was a group of about ten people; some of them in vibrantly picturesque attires, playing drums and cracking the whip in air that made scary sound. It took me a while to understand what exactly they were up to. I was under spell of shock, looking at the children who were barely clothed on that cold evening. The group read curiosity and disbelief in my eyes and approached me with utmost politeness and requested to watch their performance. Before I could even respond to them, they lead me to a corner and I followed, as if mesmerized!   


  
It was macabre expression of most inhuman facet of life to watch two children doing stunts with the whips and knives. I urged them vehemently to stop their show, the moment I saw the children crack the whip on their bodies. It was painful to see the mark of wounds slashed on their tender back. When I offered them help, they seemed hesitant as they felt they hadn't performed enough to accept anything from me! Looking at my camera, they suggested if I wished, I could take their pictures. I was so numb from the moment I saw their stunts that I had completely forgotten I was having my camera with me.



I learnt that, they not only made a living out of whip cracking stunts but combined it with some amazing knife throwing techniques. The presentation of their stunts was very interesting and they threw some humourous patter to make the performance lively and encourage audience participation. The children occasionally got an opportunity to perfect their skills by participating in dangerous stunts that often left them seriously injured. 




I chatted with the leader of the group who seemed concerned with the difficulties they were facing with each passing day. He enthusiastically displayed some brilliant techniques of maneuvering the whip and knife, despite me pleading him to stop. He smiled as if his body had no pain at all! 




When I finally left, I was in tears. Something within me had snapped, watching the group inflict so much pain for the sake of survival! With each new wound marked on their bodies, their capacity of swallowing pain increased. Every single wound, bruised and battered by the whip, was yet another reminder of their experiences of isolation, inequity and potential savagery it entailed. Perhaps, their physical wounds would heal with time someday but what about the wounds that were permanently etched in their hearts? I doubt they had luxury of even visiting their inner pain.




Behind the vibrant demeanour, there was so much pain and yet the people I met were all happy and smiling. They had dignity to refuse any help unless they were convinced they had earned it! What a divine experience it was to meet this amazing group. Despite our completely different backgrounds, we formed some connection. I experienced a surge of emotions during this entire experience that is difficult to put in words. 


Life never ceases to inspire me and when I am fortunate to have such fascinating, chanced upon encounters it compels me to salute the human spirit. All I need to do is get out of my softly padded walls of comfort zone and embrace so many layers of life that is unfolded every single day! 

Raghurajpur, an emblem of heritage arts and crafts of Odisha!!!

About fifteen km from the revered city of Lord Jagannath, Puri, there is a tiny little hamlet Raghurajpur, nestled on the southern bank of r...