Ruchira's Ramblings

    Photo by Author. All rights reserved. The world breaks down into faraway islands. Yesterday I could have found you in a chance meeting, a couple of wrong turns or an unexpected phone call. Today you are on a different planet. And I am hiding out in my little bubble. It is peaceful, I admit. I haven’t had such a luxury of solitude in a while. But when you pull down the shutters against the world, you don’t expect the world to shut you out as well. Funny things, islands. One gets tired of all the noise from the busy ports, and one gets tired of the sound of water lapping against the stone. People are the same way. They want to run and they want to stay still. They want adventures without things changing, and when things change too much, or stop changing at all, they wonder why they’re still standing where they were. And sometimes, it’s not the world standing still or the world spinning too fast that is the problem. We are, to use a cliché and a curse, living in interesti...

If wishes were horses... Napowrimo2019 Day 7 prompt from napowrimo.net: "Our prompt for the day (optional, as always) is inspired by Rachel McKibbens, who posted these thoughts on her Twitter account a few months back: 'What do you deserve? Name it. All of it. What are you ready to let go of? Name that too. Then name the most gentle gift for yourself. Name the brightest song your body’s ever held. Summon joy like you would a child; call it home. It wanders, yes. But it’s still yours.' Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem of gifts and joy. What would you give yourself, if you could have anything? What would you give someone else?" Happy wishing to all of you.

First of all, apologies for the long absence. Also, I know I promised a surprise, and I was supposed to host a writer-friend who was going to talk about his new novel, but I went on vacation, and then he went on vacation and somehow it didn’t sort of work out. To make up for it, here are not one but two whole disjointed rambles. Do let me know what you think in the comments and share if you like them. 1 Last night I dreamt I was in school, going to class to learn calculus and having a generally miserable time of it. I keep having some variation of this dream at long intervals, usually at times when I am stressed or worried or sad- dreams where I go to class and the teacher has covered so many chapters of the math book that I have never studied and have no clue how to answer in the exam and then it takes me a while on waking up to remember that I didn’t in fact need to sit for that exam again. And so it was last night, except in the dream I made a very definite decision of quit...

The Quest of Saint George’ by Frank O. Salisbury The Quest of Saint George’ by Frank O. Salisbury) #1 There’s a kind of relaxation that comes with the experience of travelling, of being transported somewhere without any direct effort on your part- this sense of a flow, of a movement towards somewhere. As the destination draws closer, an anxiety creeps in, because you know that soon, too soon, the bus or the train or the car or the plane or the boat will stop, and you will have to step out of the safe cocoon of passive inaction and be responsible for your own direction again. It’s like the breaking of a spell, or a reverie. But step back and think of the before- the past actions that led you to this journey, and may be finding a new route will become that much easier. Or may be not. Who knows! The ice melts, the oceans part, the forests shift and the maps change all the time. You are on the ride of life anyway, and there is only one destination, eventually. But maybe you can ...

Dusk is a kindred spirit. Have you ever noticed the colour of the twilight sky- light, but not light, dark, but not dark, and the street lights lining the streets- bright and sharp, but not really needed yet- everything seems to be in a vacuum, waiting for something. The rush of the day is over, the rush of the night yet to begin, and the world moves around you in fast forward while you seem to be suspended in slow motion. They pick up tired  smiles, and cheerful anecdotes, and they all have a destination, a goal, and you ask- What is home? Where is home? Why am I going there? And I'll leave again, tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, and return in the evenings once again.  "...and Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday  Friday and Saturday according to the same rhythm"  Is that all that is there? Through the days and weeks and months and years? And for how many years must Icarus fall before he can rest in the sea? Reincarnationists say that this world is only a tem...

You know how kids think sometimes that movies are real? When I was a kid, I didn't think so. I even knew actors' names (learned from my mother) and understood that they played different roles in different stories. But I didn't know how movies were made, and thought that they ran in real time. And so I thought, I thought... that perhaps the life I knew- with parents, friends and school and vacations was a movie that somebody else was watching the same way we watched those black and white classics on the family television set on Sunday afternoons, and that someday the movie would end and I would discover that I wasn't who I thought I was, but somebody else. And how strange and exciting would it be to discover that it was all make-believe, that I was someone else, from somewhere else.  Sometimes I think that I'm still waiting to discover who I really am. I recall no dream but broken images of imagined conversations melting away into a void of disquiet- ...

Every joy brings with it its own sorrow, every beginning- an inevitable end. And there is bereavement in every ending, no matter how longed for. We walk, from day to day, goal to goal, life to death, and for what? Only to hope, to long, to desire, to dream, for what else is there to keep us going? And our hopes fail, shattering our hearts, and we pick up the pieces and hope for miracles. Again. The lines you see on my face, and under my eyes are where I glued the fragments of my unspoken dreams, so many times that I lost count. And we keep walking, and hoping, and sometimes our wishes come true, and our wildest dreams are fulfilled, and there is so much joy in my share that I will never be able to take it all in, say all my words, sing all my songs. So I soak in the warmth as the stories get overlapped and the faces get blurred. And I don’t even know how the time has flown. And then it’s time to go home. There is a charm about winter afternoons, like a thin film of invisible glass ...

These days, more and more, I oscillate between the need for solitude, and the longing for companionship, searching for a place where happiness truly resides. On some days, the silence in a crowded room fills me with an odd tension, a fear, if you like, and I want to fill it up with laughter, with kisses, with the sound of television, with words. On other days, the sound of other voices push against the walls of my invisible bubble, demanding that I listen, interpret, understand. And sometimes, I don’t want to understand. Sometimes, I don’t want to listen. And my castle of happiness, built of the thinnest, brightest cards of glass topples before the winds of life. I don’t claim to be an unhappy person. I smile at friends, laugh at their jokes, love my family, savour my food, marvel at the beauty the world has to offer and enjoy the everyday platter of joy that makes our one constant, inescapable journey bearable. But sometimes on a bright, carefree day, a sudden thought like a serpe...

I don't particularly like these, but they got written, so... Original Song Lyrics ©Ruchira Mandal The Road I stayed up all night, started at five For the road was long and dark But my pack was light and my hopes were high When I started on my walk. And you know that I loved you I was true when I kissed you And you know that I’ll never look back. I stopped at a crossroad, the people were friendly And my legs had begun to ache Got used to the warm bed and the meal that came timely And before I knew I was caught. And you know that I loved you I was true when I kissed you And you know that I’ll never look back . The walk got lonely, the air got cold, The path got high and steep I posed to be strong and brave and bold For the fall was way too deep. And I know that you loved me You were true when you kissed me And may be one day I’ll come back. … Broken I wish I could recall The memories of the rain But all that I ha...

16 th July. Feast Day. Within thy hallowed portals Carmel dear… Colour dress, food, music and dancing. My first year, when I was still new, I turned up wearing my best frock, and found the fashion sense of the rest of the school far evolved than me. Honestly though, I liked frocks- still do. You pick one thing, and you’re done. No need to find the right blouse or where in the name of Narnian cupboards did the dupatta or salwar disappear to? Anyway, I think I wore salwar suits for the next two feast days. As absurd as it now sounds, not every girl wore jeans those days, and I didn’t have any till I got to Class 10. I owe my fellow Carmelites for my first exposure to fashion, and for being able to conceive the thought that I could wear jeans too. And so on Feast Day in Class 10, I wore my first pair of bare denims with a pale pink tee. One of my friends kept trying to get me to dance but I couldn’t dance back then and I can’t dance now. Sorry, Mr. Darcy, you’ll always be my first lo...