That old story

That old  photograph 

In the album of memories

Woke up old chapters and stories.

That unread letter
lost in-between pages,
touched many bookmarks.

That old perfume

Wrapped around her nape

Danced into dormant senses

That old bridge

She ran across last

Of untouched tears.

That old feeling

Of an aching heart

Choked with helplessness

That old window

Of an uninterrupted fall

Dying life and rising love.

Gyanban Thoughts : at times in life you stand and look back, that unbroken heart,that untold story,that frozen moment in time, just feels like it never went away.And yet you have moved so far away...

Milestones - 6

Milestone - 7

Don Dasgupta was a well travelled man, best of places, best of hotels, best of airplanes, but this journey on foot surpassed all his previous endeavors.

It was to be his atonement.

He walked slowly, stopping occasionally; the weight of the bag pack was becoming heavier. His legs were cramping up a bit.He couldn’t take the weight any longer and twisted his ankle while crossing an ugly pothole in an otherwise flawless road.

The pain was unbearable. As he sat by the road side, unable to move ahead he broke down physically.

Mentally he had broken down much before.

‘why me?’ Why? – what have I done to deserve this?’

'Yes I am not perfect. But then who is? Are You ?' he said looking skywards.

‘If you only wanted peace and happiness on this earth why did you create evil in the first place?’

‘if you wanted love why create hate?’

‘why offer a choice of good and bad…and why not good and better?’

‘why even get into a comparison?’

And then when You did create all this comparison why punish the ones who make the other choice?

‘Why is it called a wrong choice in the first place?’

‘isnt someone’s truth always going to be someone’s lie ?’

‘what then is the ultimate truth ? the undeniable the uncontestable truth?’

‘what do we follow?’ Who do we follow and why do we follow?’

‘Or maybe you couldn’t do anything about evil.’

Maybe You are not all that powerful after all ?

Maybe we’re all fools…wishing and hoping for you to show up one day someday…’

Maybe You don’t exist at all.

Don Dasupta was on the verge of a complete break down…of the mind body and spirit.

He sat their lonely in the middle of nature with the hills, trees, roads and some clouds. They tried to say something to him all along the way…but he did not listen. They even tried to console him…but he was hurt. He buried his face in his knees and closed his eyes….

Just when hope lost itself to the winds,

Just when tears dried up in the clouds,

Just when hurt cloaked the slopes,

Just when pain hardened the pebbles,

Just when sorrow felled the trees,

Just when emotions choked the thunder,

Just then….she arrived.

Time had stopped for a moment.

Vulnerable eyes for love to look, luminous skin of divine origin, hair left for the breeze to follow, arched eyebrows bridged the sorrows, and a dimpled chin with lop sided grin, floated in from the sky.

The sun delayed it’s set, the moon peaked in early, the clouds fought to get glimpse, the trees swayed and the naughty leaves broke away, the pebbles rolled closer, the ground became softer, water fell slower, and the air cloaked her aura.

Words escaped Don. Expressions fought a contradictory battle. Don had no idea what to do or say.

‘you look hurt – what happened?’ she asked.

‘uh mm I don’t know’ Don fumbled with words.

‘then why do you look so forlorn?’

‘I ve been hurt and I have nothing to look forward to…

'b-but who are you?’

‘I am eternity – I have existed in time and beyond…such is my sorrow’

‘but isn’t that supposed mean ultimate happiness that you don’t die?’

‘your feet that touches this bare earth, this drop of water that trickles down your face, this wind that caresses your face this touch that feels the rain have all but deserted me.Does that make you more lonely than me?

‘When you travel this valley you can see the mountain it garlands….but when you travel the roads you will only wear the bracelet of pebbles…’

She put her hand on Don’s eyes, by the time he opened them again she was gone. So was his pain.

As Don continued his journey towards the top of the hill, he could see signs of civilization and hope. The weather beginning to clear a bit.

It was almost evening and he could see the lights dance in the distance.

Gyanban Thoughts – sometimes in life when things go wrong we question our fate, our existence our future and everything around us, having a ground level view of situations only adds to the confusion and dilemma.It is therefore upon us to rise above the ground level and view the picture from a distance or from a height, you will see the big picture and more importantly a clearer picture.

Who knows it may give you a new perspective. Just like Eternity did to Don, and made him realize to look at the big picture, to look over and above…in this world of micro-management and plans to the T, there is but a superior abstract waiting for all of us.

Read all about it in the final leg of Don's journey on hairpin bend number 7.

"The eye of a human being is a microscope, which makes the world seem bigger than it really is."

Khalil Gibran

Milestones - 5

Read Milestone -6

As Don walked fascinated with his experiences, he began making notes,scribbling in his small diary.His mind was buzzing with these experiences and he found it difficult to think of a start. There were so many ways but he couldn’t come up with a start which he liked perfectly.How does his story begin? The bus stop or the first bend or the people...he just could nt decide.

As he walked further,he spotted a small hut on the hill. The back drop was just beautiful and the hut as if accentuating the beauty of the hills stood their in petite silence.

Some villagers were sitting around the small area in front of the hut. A faint cardamom smell drifted through the air, signaling the presence of a tea stall. He put his diary back into the bag and walked over.There were 4 people sipping tea and 2 who smoked while the tea stall owner did everything, smoked, sipped and brewed as well.

Upon his arrival a brusque welcome greeted him. Don felt a bit guilty disturbing their tranquility. But his mind took over and asked for some tea. The owner nodded and gestured him to sit down. There was silence.An uncomfortable one after some moments passed by. Don thought of cracking up a conversation.

‘does it always rain suddenly here’? He asked politely. Silence followed.

‘I mean does the weather always change so quickly?’ - Silence persisted.

Don was getting a bit uncomfortable, and perhaps a tad irritated.

The owner came out of his tea brewing enclosure and handed him a small tea cup.

‘thank you’ Don said but the tea stall owner looked blankly him without a hint of recognition.

This time Don felt a little insulted. What wrong did he do? After all the tea stall is there for people to have tea and maybe a polite conversation.What else was there to it. His mind raced with various possibilities while sipping the hot tea.

‘Maybe they think city folks are bad people. Maybe they don’t like the way I am dressed or the way I talk.’

'maybe they re just plain ignorant rude people'...illiterate rude people how would they know any manners?'

Don sipped a bit too anxiously and burnt his upper lip.

'darn - I am done - I think I shouldn't have stopped here' He looked around to find blank pairs of eyes still looking at him

without a flutter.

Just then a small boy came running from across the road towards the tea stall. He was panting and gesturing something to the villagers. He was trying to say something in sign language.

Realization struck Don. Very hard.He cringed.

The set of people were at the tea stall had lost the ability to speak or hear.They just couldn't understand what Don was saying all this while.

As if that was not enough, Don looked at the boy and finally understood what he was trying to say.

To the people who could hear, the child’s voice said ‘ please help ! The storm has broken our homes.’

The villagers got up and helped the tea stall owner close his shop quickly.They worked in remarkable organised fashion.Each silently diving their share of labor.Helping each other at a time of crises with perfect calmness and composure that even the most trained folks cannot.

Don stood there dumbstruck. It was his turn to be speechless.

They rushed out before Don could say anything or pay them anything. As he picked up his bag to leave, he took out some money and put it inside an empty tea cup and hid it beside the stove.

He walked away with a loaded heart, loaded with self realization and reflection of his vocal past.

Read milestone -6

Gyanban thoughts - we speak and speak so much,that as time passes by we listen lesser and lesser till we dont listen at all.Our eyes seize to see the evident and we become blind to the immediate realities of life.We are the deaf and mute and blind really - not them. We are the ones who need help - not them. We are the ones who need to save our homes and lives and ourselves from our self created barriers. When will we wake up and listen ?

Don's impatience had severed so many ties.His inattentiveness to his own voices had created so many broken roads.His path to clarity wouldn't be easy.The ability to listen to his inner self was something he had lost along the way. But there was hope.

He was nearing the end of the climb.Destination was in sight...with that he set foot on hairpin bend number 6.

Milestones -3

Read Milestones -4

The weather had cooled down further, must’ve been around 7 degrees with the wind chill factor. As he walked uphill he saw a small waterfall. The water gushed across the road down the hill. He couldn’t cross it – not by jumping over it. As he stood deliberating ,he saw two little children nonchalantly walking towards him.

‘There’s cold water here…can’t you see? How will you cross ?’ Don pointed.

The children looked at each other and started to laugh. Their laughter echoed in the quiet hills. Only the occasional gust of wind running through the trees disturbed them. Don was puzzled at this behavior. They were not even wearing shoes. They could catch a cold and without medication might even die. Don’s mind raced with a hundred possibilities.

It was obvious that they did not speak the language or understand Don’s sign language. Don felt completely helpless. He stood there watching the two little angels play with the cold water at their feet. They didn’t seem to mind the cold bite. They were not even dressed in warm clothes.

Within seconds the two children had walked across the gushing cold water. Don put his bag pack down and sat on the road. The children were now taller than him.

‘why did you cross cold water like that? Don’t you know of other short cuts or alternative paths? After all you live here, you would know this area better than me.’

The children got a little scared. They were quiet. Don looked into their dream-filled eyes and wondered why were his so dream less? Where did he lose his dreams ? Why did he lose his dreams? The children moved back a little and spoke among themselves in an alien language. Don gestured that he could not understand.

He didn’t understand the children. The children spoke some more and then walked away. Don started to go behind them but stopped. His mind told him that would be going back.

Don opened his shoes and socks, picked up his bag pack and splashed his way across the waterfall.

As the water flowed beneath his feet he felt a sense of joy and happiness. A sense of calmness spread through his body. He closed his eyes and lifted his face and let the waterfall sprinkle a joy on his bruised past.

His hurt soul flowed with the waterfall...

Gyanban Thoughts - As moments pass new past is created every second.If life is a cycle, your past will meet you in the future. The only way to deal with this is by accepting the past gone by...good or bad, hurt or happy.Let it go, let it flow out of you every second.We need to keep this cycle on to travel light...otherwise the journey of life becomes heavy and bogs you down with your past.

Don crosses this hairpin bend fighting the conflict in his mind.He contemplates going back to his past rather than embracing the new hurdle... isn't that what most of us do when we see yet another hurdle ahead of us.? We go back to our past experiences and trigger perceptions in the mind. Sometimes embracing a hurdle with a neutral state of mind is far easier a task than dealing with the demons of a known past.

Tomorrow, we will see what the next hairpin bend has to offer?

Read Milestones - 4

PS - I ve added some music to go with the read,something that inspired me to write this piece.If it hampers your reading experience,please scroll down to the bottom of the page and stop the music.

image courtesy:desktopnexus.com

Milestones -2

Milestone -1

Milestone -3

As he approached the second bend, he felt a strange sense of happiness that had eluded him for so long. Quite inexplicable really, but he did feel really good. He had nursed the little lamb to feel better, seemed so trivial, but the happiness felt so surreal.

On foot of the second bend he saw an old woman sitting quietly by the roadside. He noticed that she was not begging either. She just sat there with the lonely hills and silent trees. The drizzle had intensified a bit and it was getting chilly. He should have, could have, walked on.

But he didn’t

He squatted before the old woman and gestured pointing to the rain. The woman looked into his eyes without blinking. Age had shown visible signs of degeneration on her face. A face which told the stories of a thousand battles fought and lost mostly. A face which counted the moments left behind and the bliss to come…hopefully. They seemed to tell a story of lost hope.

Don’s eyes were moist...He was holding back his tears. But it was hard. There was a connect somewhere. She could see his heart, his pains…as if she took it upon her -as if not he, but she had gone through it all. As the drizzle became a light rain, maybe as an indication for Don to let go. He cried like he never did before, the floodgates of pain were flowing. There were so many angry waves from the past, some prejudiced, some misunderstood and some plain hurt.

Not a word was spoken. The old woman put her hand on his head. Her frail fingers wiped his tears. They seemed to say, it s ok to cry. Moments passed and the rain had eased. Don’s felt a sense of burden lift from his head. He felt like he had emptied the bucket. He was feeling fresh like the morning rain on the hills.

He searched his wallet and gave her some money. She looked at him and smiled faintly. Her trembling fingers returned the money in his shirt pocket. Don felt like a daft. He opened his bag back and gave her a woolen shawl. She was motionless, as if her breath waited for that one moment of kindness. Don never forgot the last look in her eyes…emptiness and hope fighting for a place. A silent tear struggled to stay in her eyes…before dropping to earth.

It was time for Don to move on. He had lost his past to gain a drop of the present.

Gyanban Thoughts - We dont know what we hold back.Somewhere somehow it will have to flow, you have to let go.Sometimes we hold back so much that we forget where we started storing it.lost deep inside, a hurt which never comes out but resides,a soul which cries to be heard,to be understood to be freed...so let go.

Don's journey continues through yet another bend.As he moves forward the hills and the roads throw new light , a new sight, a new hope for Don. But he is still loaded,and the burden is too much to let go too soon,he lugs his bag pack to the next hairpin bend.See where it leads...

Read Milestone -3

image courtesy :desktopnexus.com

A Bit Of Life

I lose a little bit of me everyday...

every role takes a bit away,

only pictures remind,

for a bit,I can rewind,

the bell that rang...

the run that followed..

the lunch box I gulped...

the friend who helped..

where are they now?

lost bits somewhere somehow...

the strings I strummed?

the nights I hummed?

the song I once sang,

the feet that danced,

where are they now?

lost bits somewhere somehow...

why can't I splash the rain?

feel breeze in the train

aimlessly walk the roads,

exploring all the cross roads

where are they now?

lost bits, somewhere somehow...

where is that first feeling?

the goosebumps so thrilling,

the tender first touch

which meant so much,

where are they now?

lost bits somewhere somehow...

I lose a little bit of me everyday,

every role takes a bit away,

those lost bits on the way,

somewhere seem to say,

please come back to us

just one more day...

Gyanban Thoughts - often in life,we get so caught up playing roles,duties,responsibilities that we tend to forget who we are.Our lives become transactional, scheduled..planned..that we forget what it is like to be carefree.. hassle free..just like in our growing up years..enjoying every little bit that came our way.So take some time out,and be with yourself just for one day,where you have no role to play..just spend the day with you.

image courtesy:desktopnexus