Saturday, July 28, 2012

Embracing It - My First Blogger Award

It is weekend and I am in wait for a spark , an idea to strike my head, stroke my heart , flow on my finger tips and evolve out . I never knew that it is as arduous as giving birth to a baby that I am undergoing all the labor pain to bring my baby out. To all those who ask, if there is any good news, my baby will be out soon within few months....a baby whose blood vessels and veins are fibered with my ink and words.. With so much of pain, with so much of pleasure, with so much of anxiety, with so much of expectations, this mother is  waiting for its fullest growth and to deliver.Yes... My Doctoral Thesis is going to be my First baby. It will happen, when it has to happen. Time will make it and I am all positive...

Sitting with my Research Thesis , while sipping a coffee accompanied by the cold weather, all that I can do is to smile a while because it feels great to know that someone has come to my blog and taken a look around. You know that feeling…I started my blog on October  2011 and I never knew, I could keep it running to this day. Getting readers, who experience and appreciate me for what I write, is truly a blessing. When they accept my writing, they are accepting me as a person, they are considering me as what I am and welcoming me as the girl, next door to their life. When I hear it from  you  that had experienced it and you could relate it to your life, I feel  I am somewhere at Home. It is already rewarding for me to get this much page views, comment and likes of my fellow Facebook readers. 

  And now,  for the first time when I have been nominated for Leibster Blog Award by Anupam Patra of Reflections.   As a blogger, this is one of the best gifts,, one could receive.  It is all the more precious to receive it from a talented writer like him. His, is one of those blogs, that inspires me a lot and it is a kind of exploration for me. I met him from Indiblogger and it is from there, I am realizing the power of networking. I remember it reading somewhere that, in a journey to become a great writer , relationships are what you all need. Making friends, finding readers and earning patrons is nothing lesser than a challenge. This is very important in growing the platform and getting the words, heard. 

Non-writers think we write because we’re sad. Because we have issues.  But we write to save ten-second lifetimes which would otherwise have gone unremembered. We write to capture the beauty of a moment or a sound or a face...I am so happy for my Leibster Award.. The word Liebster is German and means sweetest, kindest, nicest, dearest, beloved, lovely, kind, pleasant, valued, cute, endearing, and welcome. Isnt it pretty interesting? I love it  totally.
This is an award for the bloggers to support other upcoming bloggers (with less than 200 followers). Leibster. The Liebster Award is for bloggers with less than 200 followers. Award winners share 11 facts about themselves, answer the 11 questions asked by the blogger who tagged them, come up with 11 of their own questions and tag 11 more bloggers with the award. 

    11 facts about ME
  1. I have grown old enough to be a girl of 25, but I am still young enough that I am only  25… 
  2. To all those who asks me, Why this madness, I always reply that, it is my madness that keeps up my sanity. 
  3.  am a dreamer in disguise of a PhD scholar with one  life and many moments 
  4. I am proud to be the one and only proud daughter 
  5. I wish to live my everyday differently. And yes, I do. 
  6. I like long drives, road side tea stalls and days out of the four walls. And sometimes, I love those four walls more than my best friend 
  7. I love long walks, never ending conversations, sleepless nights and replayed music 
  8. I believe in intuitions more than logic. I believe in magic and mystery 
  9. I enjoy, opening my mouth and wonder at those small things
  10. I am too much to be contained in only 11 facts 
  11. I breathe, I love, I smile            

     11 questions for me (given by Anupam)
      1] 'Checkered blue n white' or 'black'?     
     2] Curtains or no curtains?                     
     3] Hardcover, paperback or ebooks?    
     4] What's your ambiance while writing?   
        Night, Dim light and silence
      5] Do you plan to publish a novel?       
         Yes...I do
      6] Do you like to make a gift for your loved one or do you rather buy? 
          I would buy
      7] Which is the most beautiful color according to you? 
           The ultimate BLACK (the color of Kajal, Crow and Night
      8] What’s your mantra in life? 
         Live life today, this moment, now 
         Because we need one more sunset and one  sunrise to reach Tomorrow
      9] Have you ever thought of becoming a soldier in your life? 
     10] Do you have stage fear?
           Yes, for those initial ten seconds  and then, the stage will be mine
     11] ‘Mickey mouse/ Aladin/Duck Tales’ or ‘ Shin Chan/ Doraemon/ Kitretsu’?  
            I would prefer  Mickey mouse

    11 questions I want to ask
  1. Yet to grow up or Grown up? 
  2. Forbidden fruit- is tasty  or bitter? 
  3. Fantasies or Real? 
  4. Most prized possession? 
  5. Person who most influenced the way you are? 
  6. First thing that attracts you to others? 
  7. Ever been ditched by a guy or girl? 
  8. If you are writing a book about yourself, what would you like the last lines to be? 
  9. Premeditated or Spontaneous? 
  10. If you had only six months left to live, what would you do with the time? 
  11. Rate your blog out of 5
 I have nominated the award further to 11 bloggers who deserve it and informed them individually....

 P.S :    I am listening to this right now.... Hence, Love is not supposed to be contained. It is meant to be shared. Now go and tell them how much they mean to you. Breathe. Smile. Love....Happy Weekend Guys... :-)

Sunday, July 22, 2012

She is the Woman I loved...

   At the end of long crazy day, all that I need to unwind myself is the drive to this peaceful place, breathing the fresh air , the short walk and some healthy time with my friends. On the first time, when my friend introduced me to this lake club resort, I least expected that I would get intoxicated by the air, I breathe here. Unexpected things have been happening in my life for the past few months. Now this place, people, friends, talk, music, discussions, new brands of whiskey, cigars, chics, aunties - are all quite unexpected and I am getting happiness out of it. I am happy about the air, I get from here. It reminds me that I can breathe, even in the middle of life's mechanisms.  A change  was all what I needed.  I got it here and I am welcoming it everyday so that it stays anew and fresh ..

   This place is beautiful. From here, I can watch the sunset, I can look out into the open sky, I can embrace the darkness, I can feel the raindrops on my skin, I can enjoy the unexpected breeze, I can talk about movies, I can find corners to read books,I can see beautiful women, I can interact with thoughtful friends… I can drink, smoke and do whatever I want to..Above all, this is the only place where I can be alone even  in the middle of a crowd... where I can be happy and yet feel sad...the only place where , I can light a candle and yet sit in darkness. Spending my evenings here, has become a part of my routine. It is a habit now. Every time I come here , I am coming because I want to forget Her…I want to bury her thoughts in this dark and feel relieved. I want to admire other women and  feel that, she was not pretty. But things never happen in the way, we want it to be… On the contrary, it goes in such a way that, I think of her more, when I come here. I evoke her thoughts from the dark, and every time I look at a pretty chic, I feel that my girl was the prettier...

  As I stand on the pavement of the bridge above the river, the cool breeze is freezing my insides. I took another puff of my cigar and I feel it. Yes, I need her, now..right now, at this moment.I need her, my love, my girl..Her eyes, her fragrance, her smile, her lips, that was intoxicating and deadly. Every curve of her body was mine. Every inch of hers, was my feeling. Flesh to flesh, heart to heart and soul to soul, it was utmost harmony,when we were together. We were tied together by an unknown thread. I was completely lost in emotions with her. I was in love. There was a space in me, which no one could fill, no one could reach to, no one could feel – and she had touched and occupied it. I loved to hear her talk. I loved to look into her eyes. I loved to hold her hands. 

    A woman was only a woman to me. Sometimes I liked her. Sometimes I admired her. Sometimes I ditched her. Sometimes I worshiped her. Sometimes I treated her equal. Sometimes I harassed her. But after she had come into my life, she was the woman to me. Even though she was strong and independent to the world, behind our locks, she was insecure and lonely. She had an aura of restlessness in our relationship. When those insecurities got accumulated and she had so much inside her, I realized that I have to unburden her. I had never loved any woman like her. But every other woman had known it except her. She was too uneasy by the way I moved along with her in our relationship. She wanted to get more and more, unknowing that I had given her my everything.

   She loved me to the extent that, she  was so scared, if I would leave her and hurt her to crazy. Every time her eyes widened like a dream, she had the fear if I would date with someone else. She disliked me and my work because I was always surrounded by other women. She feared  if other women would appeal  hot and pretty to my senses. I promised upon Gods, that I don’t have the need to go to other women, when I have a beautiful girl like her. But it was too hard for her to comprehend. Sooner, all the insecurities began to creep in our relationship. She was so perturbed that, she began to talk only about our break up. She couldn’t think of missing me, at any cost. She told me that she would ruin herself, if our relation ends up in a break-up. She believed that it would bring her nothing better than spoiling her life by sleeping with hundreds of men. 

   Once, she has reminded me that I am the maker of her destiny. She cried to me that, if our relationship ends, her means of survival would be becoming a whore – not because she wants other men or money, but because she wants to kill my baby (she believed , she was carrying in her) by the touch of other men and thereby, burying herself under others pillow to death. Even though I had a fear, if I am on the process of making a prostitute, but it lasted only as while as a thought. Later, when we patched up, I promised her that I love her truly, deeply, madly. I may flirt. I may be affectionate..but its her whom I love. No woman can come close to what she is…I love her so much..
  She was beautiful. There was a glow on her face, even when she had tears about to fall on her eyes. Her eyes were dark and round. There was a mystery in them with which she mesmerized me, so carelessly. Her smile was as innocent as a child. She used it with me often, knowing that it could get her what she wants. But she had so much of fears in her heart. She had a void, which nobody could touch. Even though I believed that I did it, I really didn’t…

   One day, she told me to be away from her for sometime. I knew that she wanted her own space. I understood that it was because I was getting closer to my colleague, which she mistook as love. But it was not love. She was battling with her emotions. She was afraid to lose me. I gave the silent phase she needed. Sometime life is like that. We think, over-think, imagine and interpret..Sooner, she has disappeared from my life, from my inbox, from my facebook , from my body…but not from heart, from my skin…but not from my soul.. I had let her go. But I still love her. Some relationships are like that. It cannot be given a name or definition when it do not last. She had brought light into my life. But when the light is too bright, it blinds you and darkness is what you see. 

     Interrupting my thoughts, someone has come and touched me. Looking behind, it was  Mr. Prakash. He is too curious to know, what is my mind occupied with. I gave him a wide smile with which I wanted to convey him that, I am cool and happy. He is very talkative by nature. I always enjoy his company. We began to talk about sunset, river, climate, night, darkness,  Ambani, business market, elections, industries, rich, poor, cool, hot, chic , actresses, women and what not! Now that , our current topic is women, and as if it has reminded him something, he looked at his watch and wondered, Oh its late….  He is staying there tonight because he got a woman for the night. Yes, a woman. This is common among the men, who visits the place. Nature is beautiful, so do the Women are. Man has to celebrate both. I totally support the principle. If seeking pleasure on the lap of magnificent Mother Nature is not a sin, finding joy in the fragrance of  a Woman ( who is not a mother) too is not at all a sin.

     Even though I believed in fun loving life and theories, everything was altered with the love  of my ethereal beauty. Now, she has occupied my soul and body completely that I know I cant stay in the smell and presence of other women for longer than five minutes. I can enjoy their beauty, only from a distance. I don’t want it to be near because  I still love the woman, whom I loved once.
    Tonight, he has a company, let him enjoy the moments.  I am about to leave, but he forced me to join him for dinner. I denied it but he is not letting me go. As we are moving towards the restaurant, he gave a call to the girl – (his tonight partner) and asked her to come to the restaurant. I asked him, how did he manage to get her. He told that, his friend had already dated with her and it is him, who had introduced her. Sensing my inquisitiveness in a different way, he offered me that if I want, he can arrange her for me for tomorrow night. 

    We reached the restaurant. I am not hungry for food. It is only because I didn’t want to avoid his invitation, I went along with him. In the restaurant, I had witnessed the affair that has shattered me into pieces. With a pounding heart, I saw the  woman in red.  Mr  Prakash, hugged her in front of me. And it  is the same woman, who taught me that even a hypocrite like me  can fall in  love… whose lips and fragrance were once, mine only mine..who believed that she carries my baby in her womb…who disappeared from my life for no reasons…who once told me that she would spoil her life and become a prostitute , if I let her go… Yes that same woman, who was once the woman of my life.

   The love and pain have expanded my entire heart.  Do I tell her that I really love her? Will she believe me at least now, knowing that I have affection towards other women? Will she understand that I loved only her? Will she be ready to give birth for my baby, not burying herself under the pillow of other men? 
   I knew, If she is for Prakash tonight, I can get her tomorrow. I can see , touch  and feel her skin tomorrow. I can kiss her again and get her reconciled. I can cry before her and make her forgive me. I know, I can do all that. But for all this, I have to live till tomorrow, I have to see a next sunrise.  But, will I survive till then? Can I live that hour, when my woman is becoming an object for another man pleasure? Can I pass the hour, when the skin and flesh that was once mine, undergoes another body's warmth?  Can I breath at the time when the mystery in her eyes that was once mine, mesmerizes another man?  I  wish to survive till tomorrow, till I get her . I wish, if I could extent my death. But tonight she is for Mr.Prakash and it is my permanent state of damage… Leaving her to him, it is my is my death because She is the woman  whom  I loved once, only once but deeply, madly, truly...

Saturday, July 14, 2012

Roots and Wings

I know…..her heart is shattered. She is still in love with the guy. But he doesn’t want her to.  She still looks for his status updates; to get some least hints that, he is still in love with her. But she didn’t get any. Evenings are still the same. She stands out of her balcony, hoping that ‘today’ he will come through the way of her street.  But thumping her heart once again, he went through the short cut road of Maya’s house...
She says,
 “I have never fallen so much in love with anyone. He was so good to me.  We talked for days and nights. We loved each other for 5 months. We met those coffee shops, shopping complex, cyber cafes and some lonesome roads He never slept without saying me “Goodnight”. But now, he is not replying to my goodnight messages,  he is not asking me if I had my breakfast, he is not giving me smiley’s  and says me, ‘I love you’ …he is not thinking of me even in those forgotten dreams. He has abandoned me completely. He used me...not physically ,but mentally sweeping out all the love of my heart and throwing me in threshold. I can’t sustain this pain anymore…..I can’t love anyone anymore. I feel lonely, as if a part of me is missing. I am getting chaotic dreams. I wake up in the middle of the night and feel the quietness getting on to my nerves. How can he forget me so easily and pretend to be alright, when I can’t do it? Why did he do this to me? He took me to the middle of the sea and left me all alone. How can I, row back home now?  Why does he want to give me all this pain? I can’t get out of this... Wearing a smiling mask before everyone, I am weeping within my heart. My exams are coming up. I can’t get into my books. With such a sick heart, how can I study? In each 5 minutes, I look into my mobile for his text messages. But there is not even one. Even though I lived for the past 18 years, I had life only on those 5 months of time with him.  I have forgotten everything happened before and after that. I can’t see anything in the world, other than him. If I look out into the sky, I see his face, if I look at a flower, I think of the bouquets, he gifted me…If I watch over a love scene, I remember our conversations. If I go out in the crowd, I see him here, there and everywhere. I don’t get the glimpse of any other faces. I see his face on the walls and windows. I smell him over my clothes and books. If I sit to eat, I think of the way ,we ate together. Everything else around me is blurred…I meditate upon him. I wish for a change, but I can’t help it… I am lost but I still love him with those broken bits and pieces of my heart.”

I listened to her patiently. The emotions were running down from her heart. When tears rolled down, I saw the pain and love in her eyes. She lamented over the loss of her heart…the heart that has not loved any other man...the heart, that was once pure and unblemished… the heart, that was once the ‘temple of God’… the heart, that was under her control for the last 18 years, but not anymore…And I realized, for a girl like her, giving her heart itself, is a matter of chastity.  As she repents, the purity of her emotions is gone.   The love which she has kept for the man, whom she wanted to live with till the end of her life, is taken away by another Monster. She knows that he is a flirt, and he didn’t deserve it. But she can’t stop loving him. She can’t love any other man in the same way as she does him. And she cries, “My chastity is gone”

 After hearing everything, I was feeling sick to my heart. It was a like a pain, creeping inside the soul, while knowing that the girl, who once tailed around my fingers,  got hooked to a third-rate idiot…the little girl who always wanted her seat on my lap, has grown up to extent of forgetting, her world and dared to live upon a stranger’s thoughts - whom she knew only for five months….. Initially, it was too hard for the sister in me to accept her pain. Sooner, I had to blow out all my emotions in the air because,I knew, I have to come down to the earth and accept her as what she is. There is no use of stabbing over a heart, which is already torn and bleeding

 I may be her elder, I may be her sister, I may be her mother…but, even I am one of those girls, who once passed over my teenage days and grown up into my youth.  I live in the same era of those girls, who comes to the hostel for the first time, weeps as innocent as babies for days and nights, departing their parents and family, sooner grows out of their own personality and may be after a year or two, weeps over the loss of their boy friend, loss of love, loss of heart… Parents and family is only a reverie for them, at this point of time. They know no parents. They know no grandparents. They know no siblings. They know no world. The one and only person, whom they are concerned to be alive in the world is the person, with whom they fell in love. The rest is all unimportant to them.
I asked her to 'unfriend' him on Facebook and deactivate her account, till her exams get over. But, to my wonder she replied, “Please don’t tell me that alone. It is the only way for me to know that he is alive and he exists. Without even that, I would be half dead.”  Before her words, I felt that I am only a child. If the girls of my generation were difficult, the coming generations are incomprehensive. The more, I spoke to her about her parents, the more, she spoke to me about her lover and their love life.

With all those good and bad words, I tried to convince her. I reminded her of the future, her family…but everything was loss of words, loss of energy and  loss of time. I knew, whatever I speak wouldn’t make any sense to her. It was as vague as, how babies perceive elder’s conversations; there are only some sounds without any meaning. I didn’t know what to say or how to react. If I say her that, she is too silly to cry over a 'five month old relation', she thinks that, I am not sensible or sensitive enough to understand her feelings and emotions. I didn’t want to underestimate her heart. If I would take the issue to elders, I knew how they would react. They would be accusing her with all those crimes of the world and lock her up in a room. She wouldn’t be seeing the light of the world anymore. All of them would be reacting in entirely different way. Her father would be aggressive. With all the tears, her mother would be threatening her emotionally. The grand parents would be labeling her with all the illness, a girl can ever get. Her brother would be insisting others, not to send her anymore to the College. I didn’t want to spoil her future. She is a good student and a bright future is waiting for her. And the sickness that has caught her mind is horrific. Before it turns out to be infectious enough to kill her, she has to get over it. It is the worst emotional trauma, one can ever go through.  From her point of view, it is not silly, it is not light... It is more or less about the thing of heart.  If a God can give a new heart, let Him give her one or if time can heal the wounds, let it medicate hers… I sincerely wish, hope and pray that she will get over it and come out as another strong woman..

Taking the above case, we know this is just one among the many girls, who are affected. The teenagers, who go for higher studies,fall from grace into the traps of those scammers and spoil their lives, are innumerable these days.  Some fall down, but get up and rise, while others bury themselves and get doomed to earth. It is not because they don’t love their parents or respect their family. But it is because they love the freedom more… the freedom from bondage…the freedom that was once denied and unknown.

Few words to those parents who are strictly lovable, who feeds and fences their children inside cages, who believes, “life is only inside those four walls”, who stops them in going for excursions and movies, who imposes them with their own list of Do’s and Don’ts, who reminds them in each 5 minutes, ‘not to fall in love’, who claims that they get anxious attacks when their child moves out alone, who instructs them not to make friends and trust strangers, who insists them not to dress up and show off, who assumes that parenting is nothing more or less than instructing, insisting and imposing, who says  101 times a day that, they have brought them with so  much of sufferings and difficulties and who believes that love is inside locks…here is something for you,

“ I am not a mother. I don't have a child..But I am a daughter, I am a sister, I am a friend of many other daughters...So I can say...Words are to speak and emotions are to express. Express them your love. Show them the care. Pat them. Kiss them. Tell them that ‘they are the best’. Accept them to explore the unknown. Guide them, but not instruct them. Suggest them, but not force them. Don’t say them the ‘right and wrong’. Let them discover. Let them rediscover. Let them come and tell you, rather than you telling them. Say it aloud ,that you trust them enough to send them to any corner of the world.  If you hold them too tight, they will look for space. Leave them free. There may be loose ends, but strings are very much attached. Grow them up in such a way that they learn, freedom is responsibility. Show them the world and they will not fall for it. You give them, roots and wings…roots to know where home is and wings to fly, explore and come back to you....Definitely, they will come back...”

Give Roots to cling on and Wings to get set free...

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Flowers,freedom and butterflies...

To the girl, who once loved flowers, freedom, books and butterflies.
She was greater than the world, but to the world, she was smaller than a dot
Her roads did not take her to that path of the world
Forgetting her coffee, skipping her meals; she walked to the noisiest of all streets
She was alone in the crowd, while others were rushing to catch their life
The people pushed her away, and no one has noticed her fall
She felt lonely, but no one has arrived to break her silence
She took crossroads, but she didn’t want it to lead anywhere
She lived her life tangy, knowing that tanginess is sweet
Her voice was heard out only in those sighs and whispers,
While she still loved to talk, talk and talk
She loved the beauty of single words, prologues and poems
She loved the volumes spoken about a single thought
Yes, she loved words and she fell for them often
She spoke her heart out always, not knowing when to stop, where to end
Her feet searched for a ground, a Home which she has never found
She hated being interrupted, when she was writing or reading or listening to a song
She wanted her solitude, her space all the time
She had her smiles and tears, even when nobody was there
She learnt to live alone, alone in a crowd, alone in someone’s company
And that gave her all the freedom of the world
There were umpteen nights, she was crying over those stupid love scenes
She had a few rules, but hated it when someone else did it
She always looked for mirrors to draw her kajal, and the mirror began to talk
She was like a puddle in the rain, which was beautiful only at times

 She was a good and silent observer, sitting for hours pointing out even those minute details
People knew, she was vulnerable and they made use of it
She was a paradox in her own way.
Some told, she was weak, while for others, she was strong, obstinate
And for her, she was not just strong, but strong,
Too strong, to be carried along with the wind
She was defensive, but fell in love with almost every guy, who paid her bit little attention
Yes certainly there were times, she wished for a silent partner, a best friend, a soul mate
With whom she can tell tales, music, movies, books and her stupid theories,
Still listened to her, loving her conversations, just like a child
Someone who might not be like her, with a different channel of tastes
And yet holding on, loving her more than loving himself.
But people came, stayed her for short span and left,
She didn’t ask anyone to stay, because she knew; they were not good enough to stay
She didn’t want to walk away as if, nothing has happened
She was always left, left alone for her good and others’ good
She missed having a friend, she missed being a friend
She didn’t have any loose threads to hold on,
She didn’t hear any footsteps, powerful enough to skip her beats
She reacted, spoke sarcastic, hurt others and then lamented
She felt sickened hearing her own lies
The sooner she realized, she is not capable of being loved or accept love
The quicker, she got the strength to loose, loose herself
She was running into it…running away from something,
Running to something, she doesn’t know
Her tread of fate stemmed from a lightest thought
It began to grow, the thought to “disappear” and “disconnect”
She wanted to stay invisible, knowing that no one would notice her absence
She began to imagine her obituary without any fear.
She didn’t have the fear for the oblivion, because she was curious to know what it is
When life didn’t have anything to offer for her, since eternity
She felt hungry, hungry to death.. she searched for those capsules, swallowed it,
And felt numb, tasteless, no hope, no fears, no sanity, no madness
No umbrellas, no rain, no tea stalls, no smiles, no tears, no destination
With a death note, “All is well” - she parted,
Once more proving to be weird.
It was calm and lost…

Angels can tread only on heavenly grounds
She can’t set her foot on a ‘man-made earth’
May her soul rest in peace
                        The girl who once loved flowers, freedom, books and butterflies

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Our Time is not Our Time... (An abstract)

P.S: A thought from Director P.Padmarajan's short story 'Aparan

I am lost....The clock strikes 5.35 pm. This means my lost mind and all the watches of the world are passing through the time, between 5.30 and 5.40. 
"I will wait near the over bridge by 10.30. Will you come?"
 "The bus is at 1.30. A beautiful chic comes in it everyday."
"There is rush in the canteen.Time is 4’o clock."
".…the flower-seller is calling. It is 5.30. Let me have my tea in the mess."
"Come fast,the hotel closes by 9.30 
or we may have to sleep with empty stomach tonight." 
"The neighbors lights are off. So it is 11 o’clock. Let me sleep now.I want to get up early..."

Yes, it is time, not just because our clock needle is right.It is time because all the watches of the world are rotating. Our time is not really our time.It is someone’s routine.Are we not living upon other’s time zone? Is not, our time spinning on others needles? Sit back and Think….

Monday, July 2, 2012

When journey is the destination.......

 ‘Love what you do and feel that it matters’…. What could bring one more happiness? You possess something which others do not have and when you know that, it really counts… the feeling is like breathing ‘peace’ in the air. I am in such a state because today is one of those happy days of my life.  I cried a lot. Not because of the pain but, because of its relief. Isn’t it happy to know that someone trusts you and gives you the freedom to take the road, less traveled by or not taken by others? I am taking a new footstep, new path in my research journey. Of course, a less trodden one and that is the beauty of it.I was emotionally overwhelmed, knowing that my Sir (Supervisor) has still kept his trust upon me. Even when, I am running as slow as a tortoise or stay as idle as an ugly worm that was not ready to come out of cocoon (even after the metamorphosis); he didn’t question my ability, he didn’t give up his confidence.  He still believes that one day, the tortoise will steadily hit the success point and the ugly worm will come out as a beautiful butterfly to soar in the heavenliness. I am bounded to the freedom and support he gives. 

My research is something which I am obsessed with. And today, I have taken up a new challenge, which is probably the last phase of my journey. Hence forth, it is all about the research of my own research. Isn’t it pretty, when process itself is the product? My soul is going to become my research subject.Let the world and nations echo of, what is happening within me, while I am doing a research. Let it transform me into a better person. Not for better tomorrows, but for the best of today’s. This journey is weirdly beautiful. I don’t want it to end. Joy is found not in finishing an activity but in doing it. Life is not about reaching a destination. It is all about, how well you take up your journey, enjoying every bit and chunk of it.

Feel it now, not lately
Everything is happening,
The unknown, the distant, the near

The horror, the irony, the traces

The heaven, the hell,

The tears, the smiles,

The research

The Research of research

The moments,

The life,

Everything is happening,

And it happens,
When journey itself is the destination...

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