Can solitude bring peace?

I am a bit confused what solitude can bring as this word has different meanings. When I return from office late in the evening I seek for a solitary place of my own where I can do things and relax in the way I want. After a hard day I dont want to go around and chat with people. I need my own time. It doesnt teaches me anything but at least helps me to relax. It helps me to focus on some areas where I need to work upon.

Solitude again refers to the empty place in life which we store for another person. I have seen people commenting "I am happy to be single". Yes in one way we can be happy as attachment leads to trouble but again do we really want to keep that empty for ever? If that would have been so we would not have stepped out and sought for another love. And again a life without friends is nothing. Definitely we wont like everyone but every individual has some contributions to our lives. We do not feel left out.

Again solitude means to be alone with nobody beside you or to be alone with everyone by your side.

Personally I feel it is better to find at least some time in solitude  in order to ficus where we are heading, in order to know whom to trust and whom not to, in order to know whether our actions have hurt somebody or not. In short entirely for some self realization. Apart from that life in solitude brings sadness,gloominess. Be yourself but be with everyone around you. It will help you to be a better person.

Does everything happens for a reason?

I was intrigued by one of the topics of Indispire #HappensforaReason . I am not sure whether it will be the next Indispire topic but I felt it to be interesting enough to write as my next topic.

When I was a child my father used to say "Whatever happens, happens for good". Being a child I always used to believe it. As I grew up I started question "Does it really happens for a reason?" Probably yes , probably No. There are many things which hurt us, break us and again by the rule of life we learn to overcome. The only consolation we give ourselves is that we have become more matured and experienced. But I always wonder does every bad incident had to happen in order to make us more strong?

After finishing college when I joined a job I found every single senior to be against me. So much so they were in search of one loop hole to penalize me. There were days when I used to cry at the washroom even in the bus while returning home. I had to show tremendous mental pressure everyday when I went to office and worked with those same people. But not everyone who joined with me suffered this. I am just citing an example. I am aware people around me have much bigger problems than I have. My point is just to say that there are always some unnecessary things happening in our lives which was not required. I started to speak less, became quiet so that I couldnt be bullied. I had to change myself in order to adjust. But again after so many years I have known how to fight for my right. If not mastering it , have at least  known the basics.

Long back in a movie whose name I dont remember I found a dialogue "Everything is destined to happen. Whether it is good or bad it will be decided after it actually happens"

Well this is what I believe now that everything is written in destiny. Not everything will happen for good. I have lost many good friends of mine with time. I never leave any of them, they left. I just had to accept.

May be that is why people say " It wont come again is what makes life so sweet"

Old forgotten hobbies

Let me take you to my childhood. Like many children I had a weird hobby of letter collecting. Yes its weird. In those days emails were not popular and so was the telephone. People used to communicate via letters. The TV shows asked us to post the suggestions on letters. It was that time when "Superhit Muqabla" was a famous hit music show aired on Doordarshan. I used to see anchors reading out 2-3 letters from a heap of thousands.

Quiet surprisingly I took the idea of collecting letters that were delivered to our home. Every letter starting from invitation cards to personal letters I would keep them with me after they have been read. I specially liked if someone used the writing pad. The beautiful decorative pages amused me.

Then I started collecting local train tickets. Another funny thing. I had a purse and used to keep all the  tickets there.

I even collected marriage invitation cards as I said before. And it came to use when my elder brother was getting married. The writings and designs helped us to choose an appropriate card.

And then at the marriage ceremonies I used to collect the menu cards.

I even got a piggy bank and used to collect 1p, 2p coins which are now obsolete.

Life goes on and I grew up. And ultimately all the foolish habbits took a backstage. As I remember them I find my childhood to be so simple and funny as there was no particular reason as to why I had them.

Looking back at 2014

As the year draws to a close I look back at the year to be one of my the most beautiful years. It always seems weird how the year has passed by and today is its very last day. The year has been full of new things--new life,new people,new friends,new relations,new role,new designation.

It started with my marriage as I stepped to a completely new chapter of my life. With marriage comes responsibility and thus I had to feel the difference between my past and present lives. Definitely marriage is a total new game no matter whether you have it as an arranged or love. The relationship expectations,role and responsibilities are totally different. But with the passage of time things become more clear.

We went on a lovely tour to Kerala as our honeymoon trip. It was one of the best trips I had. We explored Kochi ,Munnar and Allepy as we had to do everything with 15 days including our marriage. As both of us are working the basic constraint is the leaves. But even within that span whatever we have covered has enthralled us. I specially liked the Allepy backwaters and was thinking how beautiful is life over there with no hustle bustle of the city, no running to office within 9 AM . :)

After returning as I joined office I was affected by a series of infections starting from my stomach upset to having a reactive arthritis. I had to endure immense pain and finally it took almost 3 months to cure properly.

During the mid of the year I got promoted and was given a new designation. I finally sowed the fruits reaped in previous years. What made me more happy was that I was under the same manager who used to shout at me and offer me lowest rating at the beginning and it was he who gave me the practice level Pride Award and also the best rating followed by a promotion. What more could have I asked for.

With new relation I got new bundle of friends and we had parties together. We went for a day outing at Vedic Village. And then came the historic tour to Vizag and Araku valley. I would say it as historic because we have done loads of things which we have never done before. As we were 8 in number the journey starting from boarding the train , was itself very funny and amusing. We went for a short trip of 5 days and thus the schedule was compact. We missed going to the Hrishikonda beach. I specially liked Araku valley . In the morning we caught an early train to Araku and got down at the Borra Guhalu station . As we were heading towards the Borra Caves we saw people singing the national anthem as it was Independence day. We were given small flags to pin in our dresses. We had amazing experiences at the Borra Cave and then we went ahead for Araku. After a few hours we plunged into the swimming pool. Then the next day we headed for some mesmerizing sight seeing. We boarded a train from Araku to Vizag at around 3:30 P.M hoping that we ahve enough time to catch the connecting train. But the train being a passenger one it was not given platforms and was forced to wait outside every stations. We finally got down at Simhachalam and hired an auto to take us to Vizag. We were tensed thinking that we might have to miss the connecting train. Then finally after lot of prayers we reached Vizag and started running towards the platform. Luckily the train has halted few more minutes and thus we could get our food and water. Ufff it was a breath taking experience.

The month October marked the beginning of festivals like Durga Puja, lakshmi Puja ,Diwali,Bhai dooj etc. Needless to say about my enjoyment. We all wait for this time of the year.

In the month of November we had a short trip to Diamond harbour. Then as the winter approached a series of marriage invitations followed.
After that it was Christmas where we had a small party at our house and with loads of office pressure this year has come to an end.

Looking forward to stress free, sorrow free enjoyable 2015 :)

And The Sand Went Red

This is a story written by my friend Abhilash Talapatra


He had been running since yesterday. And, hot on his heels, the Devil followed.

His camel was tired, and so was he. Adrar, the oasis-town where was running to, was more than three hundred kilometers away from his hometown Ain Salah, and he had only covered a little over half that distance.

“There are not too many places where you can run from the Iblis and be safe,” said his father, when he saw him packing in a hurry. “He will find you. He will bring you back to Ain Salah and make you pay for your crimes.”

“Abu, I will not be caught by him,” he retorted with a sneer. “I would rather die than be a prisoner.”

“Then you will die soon,” said his father simply, and left the room. Three minutes later he had mounted his camel and run off into the north-western sand.

He made for Adrar with his loot, loot that was stolen from the Caliph himself. No one was supposed to discover him silently picking the place apart. That had been the brilliance of his plan – in and out in less than five minutes.

And, like all best laid plans which are actually stupid, his was bound to fail too. It was simply bad planning, but he blamed it on fate. For as he made his way to the window, intending to leave like a shadow, the Calipha strolled into the room. One look into his guilty eyes told her everything she needed to know, and just as she was about to scream for the guards, he threw a dagger which pierced her heart.

So now he was not just a thief, but a murderer too, the Calipha’s murderer. There was to be no mercy for this. He would be pulled apart limb from limb by four horses as the entire population of Ain Salah watched.

He knew the Caliph would send the Devil after him. Arish, the bodyguard to the Caliph’s son, and the most able of his men. Arish was the Devil incarnate, and his nickname, Iblis, was well deserved. He feared no one but Allah and his Caliph, and was as ruthless as he was fearless, known to have beheaded close to twenty men alone in an attempt to save a well of water once. That bravery and ruthlessness had served the Caliph well, and there was not a man in the kingdom that was not afraid of him, perhaps including the Caliph.

So he ran.

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It was now the evening of the second day of his escape, and he was exhausted. He had not made good time; it did not help that his camel was carrying thrice his body weight, with everything that he had stolen from the Caliph laden across the saddle. He had fed his camel well a day before running, but the camel was old, and he was unsure of what would happen if he did not complete the journey by nightfall tomorrow.

A cool breeze was blowing across his face as he lay down in the sand. He wanted to rest for a bit before continuing, and this seemed like the perfect time; any later than this, and the wind could chill his bones, and he would rather be on his way by then.

He did not know how much time had passed when he felt something wet against his cheeks. He assured himself he was dreaming, and turned on his side, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. He opened an eye, irritated, and swiped whatever it was away from his cheek. The next instant he screamed at the top of his lungs as he saw his hand covered in blood. He turned around, still dizzy, and saw his camel lying in the sand with its throat slit open. He raised his eyes and saw a hooded man standing with a knife in his hand.

The Devil had caught up with him.

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Timkoten is a small oasis town almost midway between Adrar and Ain Salah, and it was here that the Iblis was having a breakfast of dates and camel’s milk. With him, tied with rope, was the murderer of his Calipha, who had walked all night behind his camel.

The Shammar tribe of Bedouins who sold the Iblis the milk and dates for breakfast were whispering among themselves. Hushed tones reached his ear, and he concentrated hard.

“But then what happened? Did they never return?” asked one.

“No. The sand swallowed them, and they were gone,” said another.

The Iblis was intrigued. He walked to the oldest of the Shammar, and asked him what it was all about.

“The Devil is in the sands this month,” he simply said.

The Iblis smiled as he retorted, “Aye, and that is I. They call me the Iblis.”

The old man sat up as he said, “I have heard of you, young man. But it is not you I speak of. I speak of the one who preys on the souls of those who dare walk across the sands of Akabli.”

“Why, what happened there?” asked the Iblis.

“A caravan was en route to Ain Salah from the south yesterday. They halted here for refreshments, and then were on their way,” said the old man.

The Iblis nodded. “I remember them. They carried their wares with them to trade at the marketplace at Ain Salah. I saw them last morning as I was hot on the trail of this criminal,” he said, pointing to the murderer, who by now looked exhausted and ready to fall dead any time.

“Yes,” said the old man. “A few of our men went with them, to reach the oasis that lies at a little distance from here for water, as we had all but run out. But… They never came back.”

“That is easy,” the Iblis said. “They have only been gone for a day, right? They shall return anytime now!”

“No, my son,” said the old man. “We are the Shammar, people of the desert. We sense things. Those men will never return.” He looked out towards the east. “And you, son, do not return through these sands. There is something evil out there.”

“Do not return?” exclaimed the Iblis. “I am to return to Ain Salah by nightfall today. If I do not take these sands, I will be hopelessly delayed, and my master will not be too happy about that!”

“Son, I implore you,” said the old man with a tremor in his voice. “Take the sands to the north. Do not go east. If you go north, you will reach Ain Salah tomorrow. But if you go east… You shall travel, but never reach.”

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The Iblis did not believe in superstition. In spite of the nature of his work, he was an educated man, even though mercenaries rarely require or believe in too much education, except that which helps them directly in their job as killers.

He was sure that the Shammar men had been delayed for some reason, and were not dead. The old man would welcome them back soon with open arms, maybe as soon soon as tomorrow, he thought with a wry smile.

He looked back and saw the murderer walk with a weary expression on his face. He had long given up trying to keep his eyes open, and was walking like a dead man would, had the dead man been strung along the wrong end of a camel. The two soldiers who came with him were chatting away between themselves. The Iblis did not mind that; he was of the opinion that higher the morale among soldiers, better they are in battle. Such chatter was considered normal in the regiment he led.

The oasis which appeared out of nowhere an hour later looked like a mirage, but it wasn’t. As they rode closer, they could feel a cooler breeze than before blowing across their faces. The Iblis could not recall an oasis at this particular place, but admittedly he had not travelled this far west too often; he was mostly occupied out east, against the warring degenerate tribes who would come all too often to steal water from his Caliph’s wells.

He wanted to reach Ain Salah as soon as he could, but something about the trees held his attention. His eyes felt heavy, and the rein of his camel fell limp across the beast’s shoulder. The sun was high in the noon sky, yet he felt as exhausted as after a hard day of bloodshed.

“Yussuf, go fetch some water for me,” he said, plonking his head in the sand-pillow he made for himself under a tree. “Hameed, keep watch over the murderer.” So saying, he closed his eyes.

He did not understand when he fell asleep, but when he awoke, he could not find Yussuf or Hameed anywhere. Hand on the hilt of his sword, he hurried to his feet, only to find that there was no one around.

A cry for help from a few yards away led him to behind the trees, where he saw the murderer down in the sand with fear on his face. Madness oozed from his eyes, and he suddenly screamed.

The Iblis put the blade of his sword against the murderer’s throat. The touch of steel brought the murderer back to his senses as he screamed, “GHUL!”

The Iblis punched him so hard that his face spurted blood. He was not superstitious. The murderer’s mention of a Ghul around did not bother him; he was not scared of demons who could shapeshift into hyenas to prey upon desert travelers, and then take their shapes to move on to their next target. As far as he was concerned, they did not exist. And even if they did… Well… His blade was strong and sharp, and blessed by the Imam of Ain Salah.

A glance around told him that neither Yussuf nor Hameed’s bodies were anywhere in the vicinity, and although their disappearance was a great mystery to him, he was more concerned with moving away from this strange place and back to Ain Salah. What was stranger was that he could not find his soldiers’ camels anywhere either. Only his own.

He tied the murderer’s rope to his own waist to ensure he couldn’t run away, and walked to the water to quench his thirst. And saw the carcasses of two camels and two soldiers lying in the bloody water.

In anger he turned to his prisoner, punching him off balance so hard that two of his teeth were knocked off.

“You will answer for this too, animal,” he said with anger in his eyes.

He knew it would take him close to five hours to reach Ain Salah, which is why he was surprised to see the silhouette of the town manifest itself hardly an hour into the ride. He tried to gauge his route, wondering if he had unknowingly taken a shortcut over a sand dune which led him home quickly. But no matter how far back he looked at the desert behind him, he simply could not understand how he reached Ain Salah this fast.

There was fear in the murderer’s eyes as he looked at the outline of the town, knowing that it was probably his last day in the land of the living. The law said he would be pulled apart limb from limb by four horses. Not a fate he was keen to face.

So, like the gambler’s last throw of the dice, he sprang upon his captor. But he was no match for the strong and powerful Iblis, and could not overpower him. He fell to the sand after a brief tussle, where he lost two more teeth.

The Iblis towered over him, sword in hand, and the murderer understood that he had but one way out. Only one way to avoid the pain of feeling his arms and legs detach from his body one by one.

He got up, smiled, closed his eyes, and walked right into the Iblis’s sword.

The Iblis was distraught at not being able to bring the murderer back to his Caliph alive.

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He rode on with the murderer’s dead body spread across his saddle. The town did not look too far away now.

He rode on. For hours.

By evening, it was clear to him that no matter how close he tried to ride to the town, it always looked exactly that far away. The superstition that he never believed was now turning into fear. He even tried going back the way he came, yet the desert seemed never ending, and the town was always almost right behind him. Two mornings later, he killed his camel and ate it’s meat to keep himself from starving.

The Iblis died of thirst and hunger three days later. He was still almost as close to the city when he lost consciousness as he was five days ago.

A hyena appeared over a sand dune and feasted on the two bodies for three days.

English Vinglish

It was last friday when I took out a few moments of my busy schedule and was reading a blog written by a colleague of mine. I dont know him and havent heard his name before mainly becoz he is in another city. What intrigued me most was his bravery in confessing that he is poor in English when it comes to speaking.

He fully confessed that even though after being studied in an English Medium school he lacked the required fluency that he is expected to have and for this sole reason he even got the lowest performance rating in the year end. He belongs to the southern part of India where mostly all the people know english more or less, yet he proudly confessed that his vernacular is much more strong compared to this foreign language.

This very blog reminded me of many such situations which we face when we are somehow unable to communicate properly in English or rather some of our dear friends or colleagues face this problem. I was reminded of a girl in my college days who used to suffer from inferiority complex just because she was weak in speaking english. But on the contrary I have found many of them who take this as a challenge and improve themselves a lot and that too much better than those who claim to be too eloquent in english.

I find this whole issue to be rather funny. India ranks the 2nd country where English is spoken the most. People love to communicate or rather add one or two lines in english and pretend that they dont know their mother tongue too well, predominant  mostly in celebs or typical "high class society" people. For those who have studied abroad or have lived a few years of their life abroad I have found this tendency of showing off their english fluency. Well nothing is wrong with that until and unless u disrespect your very own mother tongue pretending that you are too poor at it.

The jobs nowadays specially those who are in IT, require fluency in english because they have to deal with foreign clients and people from different parts of the world. So over the years I have experienced that maximum of those who are weak in english either become too self conscious or suffer from inferiority complex and hating others or are bold enough to make their weakness as their biggest strength. And very few of them try to continue the way they speak being least bothered as to how their english might sound to the others. No matter how poor they might sound they pretend themselves to be the best speaker. :)

Well we have all  appreciated that colleague of mine for his brave confession for this funny but serious and well known issue and in my opinion if we are brave enough to admit our shortcomings and improve them then I guess it will be a different world all total. Isnt it ?

Suspcion

"We went for shopping and then a movie..And you know what the movie was dam good...." remarked Seema , my collegue and one of my good friends.

But who knows what destiny had in store for her.
I still remember the date. It was 5th March. As I entered my office sharp at 9:30 am  I found her sitting at her cubicle with heads down and hands clutching her long hairs - a sign of stress or exhaustion. I was surprising  as she is never that early to office anyday. Then suddenly I recollected that she had told me about her fight with her husband yesterday .

At about 10:30 a.m after finishing some client calls and replying to some emails I thought of asking her to go for a cup of tea. As I approached her cabin she gave me a quite blank look. I could make out from her sleep deprived and tired red eyes that she had cried all  night and was not at all fit for office that day.  Being cautious on not to indulge in her personal matters too much I casually asked her " Hey Seema what happened yaar,wanna go for a tea?"

At the cafeteria Seema broke down " I cant take it any more Rashmi, I simply cant. I want to die."


After consoling her for almost an hour she finally disclosed that the main reason behind all her problems was  her husband being extremely suspicious about her. As for a lady like Seema was it was never a problem  to befriend anybody. Her's was a love marriage but somehow her husband was suspicious about her right from the beginning. And this time he was seriously suspecting Seema having an extra marital affair with a guy in her office named Kaushik. Seema and Kaushik were good friends right from their college days but somehow her husband was uncomfortable about this fact.And hence a series of misunderstandings and quarrels followed  making her life as hell .

 I kept on consoling her knowing very well that this cant actually heal the pain she is suffering from. After another half and hour she calmed down but decided to leave for the day citing some health issues to her supervisor.

The moment she stepped out, a group of  team members gathered for a gossip. They were somehow aware of all her personal issues and found  that to be a great masala topic to discuss and laugh.Curious to know what was going on  I joined the group.

 " Arrey her character is highly suspicious. Being a married woman if she goes on having affairs with others how can her husband tolerate that? I have asked him to keep an eye on her. Had it been me I would have straight away divorced such a bitch." said Sandeep.

I protested "But why on this earth did you try to say anything to her husband? First of all its her life. She has the right to do anything . We are nobody to comment. And that to complaining directly to her husband is like......." Sandeep cut me in the middle of the sentence " Arrey choro bbhi Rashmi , I know she is a good friend of yours but truth is truth and it would have been the same had it been you or any other woman.The society is not so liberal to allow any married woman have another relationship outside her marriage"

Extremely irritated I went back to my seat and resumed work thinking how disgusting can people be at some times.

Next day as I was leaving for my office I got a call from Kaushik. He was unable to speak.After gathering a lot of courage he finally said " Rashmi, Seema is no more. She has committed suicide last night. And I am guilty for her death."

Needless to say I was extremely shocked. Without uttering another word I took a taxi straight to her house. There was a huge crowd. I slowly entered their drawing room only to find  her dead body wrapped in a red saree and her mother crying too loudly. Her face looked calm as if she had finally attained the peace she was desperately seeking. Her husband Ashish stood at one corner of the house looking still. I couldnt believe that such a confident girl as Seema could end her life like this and how heartless can a man be to let her do that.

As my eyes met with that of Ashish's I questioned him in my mind " How could you let this happen?" But Ashish's eyes returned me a look saying "I never wanted this thing to happen." 

They had a serious fight last night after which Seema left the house. She was driving the car which collided with a truck on the highway. She was rushed to the hospital by the local where she was declared brought dead. Somebody called up Ashish after taking number from her cell  and informed him about the happenings.

As her final rituals were performed Sandeep stood by her funeral pyre and told to himself  "Sorry my dear lady. Had you ever understood how much I love you , today you could have been alive. I am sorry to see you dead but seeing you in somebody else's arm was equally painful for me. I had no option but to provoke your husband. And since I share a very good relationship with you 2 nobody can suspect that it was me who did all the things which could make it evident that you were having an extra marital affair. I just wanted you to leave him and come to me. But it wasnt destined to. Good bye my love. We shall meet again , this time in heaven and this time you will be only mine."

The next day the newspaper read " A woman died in a road accident: Love triangle suspected"
 The police arrested Kaushik following a complaint from Ashish but released him soon as there were no proofs.