DEATH

Human beings are fantabulous... They can modify, mould, decify, at various levels in  life. As life moves on perspective of death keeps changing..The kiddoos phase defined DEATH as a ceremony of family get together, distant relatives visiting us in a rash, amidst the oscillating moves of happiness and sadness. Paul Kalanithi's  "When Breath Becomes Air" set me into the tunnel of the unvisited  grey shades of a happy journey. This is a must read for anybody above 16. I found it very hard to  handle MYSELF  for another 3 months post-reading the text. A person's conscious way of dealing with the final destined moments took me aback. To know that Kalanithi had a choice to recreate his emotions by agreeing to have a baby strikes the unconscious mind of any human being. A human's living period  over the earth is destined the moment he is born. At ease, we take things and relationships for granted flowing with life when realisation dawns at the end. A dead person is terribly missed for personal reasons...hard to say these reasons are mostly self-centered and never missed for what the person WAS!! Death redefines a person.....

When writing becomes therauptic.....

"WRITING", the touch of a new pen has always excited any anticipatory lover of books, words and letter pads... Extremely in romance with the soft black ink which cuddles with any draft at ease...dancing with the flowing words at any spectrum. Any deed is therauptic when displayed with hundred percent efficacy. Flowing thoughts and ebbing emotions must be let out at any point in an individual's life. I still remember the  age old puny diary that I treasured filling in memories of secret emotions, quarrels and happiness at the age of 7. Gen z kids are exposed to 'N' number of inputs, tools and comforts for any matter. Here lies the double sided impact of technology... really scary at times, when you fail to treasure things that others are devoid of receiving. 

Even therapy has become an element of marketing. One has to satisfy the target audience when you pen down..one has to write an underlying filmscript in the guise of an ordinary scripture, one has to be SOMEBODY with an identity to possess a therapeutic writing...the list is endless...How does an individual let out the musings if one is not into therauptic writing? Yes...the answer is the age old oral tradition possessed by our land..which still flourishes in the form of counseling sessions in a psychiatric clinic. Simple things can change our life!!!

The Darling Day

Lekha mam was my favourite when I stepped into MY campus clinching Amma's hands as a 4 yr old kid..crying just because the Lilliput crowd around me was doing the same for no reason. I enjoyed crying at 12 PM everyday just because the grown up personality inside me was suffering from a severe Smell Disorder. Quite funny!!! But I couldn't control my tears as I opened the snack packed with bananas and a pale yellow fork, surrounding me with that pungent smell of multiple aromas from various kitchens. I could still smell it with the threatening voice of AAYA Aunty ...yeah... that's how we called the caretaker of kindergarten. She still looks young and vibrant with a few grey patches and wrinkles at the corner of her eyes, when I met her last month. Life leaves behind a lot of unreachable memories, when philosophy teaches you to "LIVE IN THE PRESENT" which is absolutely impossible!!!

Recreating a teenage dream

 A longtime musing states a person's  existential purpose in a world of perceptions, illusions and temporary relations. The heavenly spirit decides every karmic action of an individual..the tiny creatures are mostly unaware. Decided to commence a blogging routine when memories started overflowing in a 37 year old young mind which still yearns for my school days in Adarsh Vidya Kendra. Life was multiflourous, happiieeeeee and momentous in MY campus. I own that space emotionally still now, rarely do we understand that people you love are not  always reciprocative and grounded. This realisation dooms very late in a person's psyche when you move towards the grave......