Dear 2022

Dear 2022,

As you draw slowly to a close, I thank you for being you. Unapologetic, unabashedly, you. And I wouldn’t want you to be any other way.

You may not have always been good, but you weren’t as bad as your predecessors, in fact you brought back some form of normalcy to the chaos our lives were in.

And although there were lows, there were sprinkling of highs, after all you can’t always have highs and you need to have those lows to appreciate the highs, you need those moments of sadness to appreciate the moments of happiness and joys you have been blessed with.

Though there maybe times, make that many times, where you made me scream “Why Me”, it was your way of making me make difficult decisions, move on from situation that have stagnated. It was your nudge, your push that made me move on. And although I may have cried, cursed and wondered why, and sometimes even hoped to die, but you gave me strength to move on.

So as I prepare to bid you goodbye, I just want to say THANK YOU for being you. And yes I will always be grateful and thankful for you.

You’re a Candle burning bright!!!

You’re a candle burning bright

Just breathe and be who you are

Just relax and be the best self

And let your flame burn bright

Let your passion fuel your flame

You’re a candle burning bright

Don’t let your flame ever flicker

Don’t let your flame ever waver

Cause when you waver you dull your flame

And take away your shinning light

You’re a candle burning bright 

Let no one dull your flame

Let nothing dull your flame 

Let no one take away your flame

If someone or something even tries

Shine brightly right into their eyes

You’re a candle burning bright 

The secret to your flame is you 

The magic of your flame is you

So shine brightly and radiantly for all to see

Lighting up the world

Yours and everyone else’s 

Who need the light of your flame

You’re a candle burning bright

Continue to shine with all radiant

So much that when you flame is no one

All who knew you

Or were to be to know you 

Would always remember 

How brightly your flame burned!!!!

I’m Never Gonna Not Dance Again!!!

I may not be the best dancer

I may not have the best moves

But the moment I lace up dancing shoes

I become a whole different person 

Who can dance to the groove

I no longer have two left feet

And like everyone I have just one

Though I really don’t think I even had two

When it comes to dancing

Though I know I don’t always 

Dance to the beats

Or even keeping count 

But when the music begins 

I let it take over me

Letting my cares fade away

And even though 

I may not be the best dancer

In my head I’m dancing better than the best

Cause  no one can take the dance away

Dancing is my happy place

A place where I go to when I feel low

To escape the care that trouble me

And express myself through movement

That I best know

Dance it not just my idea of fun

It’s my expression of joy

It’s my expression of passion and pain

It’s my ME time

It’s what keeps my anxiety at bay

Where I can be self all again

And read and smile again

So I may not always keep on beat

Or give the best or right leads

But no one can take the dancing from me

And even in the lockdown

When world was all behind close doors

And no partner around

Somehow dance found its way to me

So you there’s no not dancing for me

Cause as soon as I hear the music

Like Tracy Turnblad 

You can’t stop my dancing feet 

Cause they just won’t stand still

So come what may

No matter what

I am never gonna not dance again!!!

Running on my Own

Running can get lonely 

Especially when you sign up for a distance

That your friends aren’t running 

Or are not interested to run

For injuries and lack of confidence 

To even a lack of interest 

So you end up training on your own

Have to get those mileage on your own

Without anyone by your side 

To push you

To egg you on

To chit-chat continuously with you

To even tell to just shut the yapping

You miss their company

As you got to push yourself on your own

To egg yourself on

To cheer yourself on

To even pep talk yourself

Talking yourself out of situations 

When you mentally cursing yourself

Wondering why you do such things to yourself 

But then you realise what you love about running

Why running means so much to you

It helps you calm down

It helps you stay focused

Though occasionally 

Ok make that most of the time

You let your mind wander

You can be with yourself 

A space to think

A space to meditate 

A space to zone all your cares

And just be with yourself

And yes the most important thing

It helps you burn a ton of calories 

Means you’re loosing a tons of weight

And you are permitted to put them back on

So you wake up at un godly hours

Lace up and warm up

And get yourself out of that gate

You put your music on 

And leave the world and your cares behind

But stay tuned in to your surrounding

Lest you get hit, run over, bitten or mauled

And you just go out there and get it done

Fighting the temptation to speed up

Fighting the temptation to give up 

When your body’s hurting 

And it refuses to go on

But you still carry on

Telling yourself it’s not about the mileage

It’s not about the speed

It’s not about who do what distance 

It’s about going out there

And getting it done

And in the process having a little fun

And spending some quality time with yourself

Even composing poems and stories and write up

Or finding a solution to a problem

And when it done there’s a joy

A sense of accomplishment 

A sense of triumph 

That you never gave up

You fought the odds

And now you a little more closer to your goals

And you did it all your own!!!

Everything has Changed

Their eyes met from across the room, and as soon as they locked, they looked away. They averted each other’s glance. 

They moved in the same social circles. So they were bound to run into each other. But they didn’t want to give each other the pleasure of the knowing that they had noticed them.

She was wearing the dress he thought looked good on her. The one she had complained was too short and made her look fat. The one he wanted  to see her in, because he was confident that she looked gorgeous in, but she refused to wear as she felt it cheapened her.

He wondered what changed, now that she was wearing same thing that she swore she would never wear.

He always wondered why had she picked it up and spent all that money on it in the first place, if she never ever wanted to wear it.

She noted that he had lost his chubbiness and looked nice and lean. He had lost all that weight that had refused to go snd clung on to him.

She always chided him for being a bit too lazy, and encouraged to join her for walks and runs, if not hitting the gym.

But he loved his curves and always joked that round was a shape too, and he loved being round. It meant that  there was more of him to be loved.

She wondered what changed that thinking. And though he looked handsome and lean, she missed the old charming him.

As he stole glance at her wondering who was the dude she was with.

He was typical himbo, someone too much about himself and his looks and muscles and social presence, and his brands. He lacked, or appeared lacking, the basic intellect a woman like her deserved. 

She was just an arm Candy. Something she always refused to be.

She was independent and strong-willed, and that what had drawn him to her.

Would he stand up for her and defend her honour and and her views, if anyone challenged her, he wondered. Would he be willing to get his knuckles bloodied for her. 

He was just a another pretty boy, who was more about his looks and visual appeal. He was sure he could take him on any day.

He wondered what happened, what changed! When did she lowered her standards. She deserved better.

She had caught him staring in her direction like he always did.

He was with one of those typical bimbetts, a social butterfly. Someone who wouldn’t even have given him a second glance if they had known the old him.

But now she was all over him, like the weight that had previously clung to him. 

She had her hands all over him.

She wondered if he liked all the attention he was getting from this airhead. 

But then she knew he also had that expression, the one of his over protectiveness, the one where he felt like he needed to protect her, something she didn’t quite like about him.

She had loved that he had cared for her, but she was independent enough to fight her own battles, and didn’t always need someone to fight them for her.

She was sure he was sizing up the man she was with, and from the looks of it, he wasn’t impressed, and was just waiting to prove his point.

He saw her staring at him and his date, and instinctively he knew what she thinking.

He had loved that she was independent and self-reliant, but did she always have to do thing herself. Once in a way she needed to let someone take care of her. She was so difficult to read.

And did she had to have an opinion about everything and everyone. He knew just what she was thinking about his date. Did she always have to be so judgemental, and make a quick judgement about everyone.

Somethings never really change.

As the night went by they mingled around their respective social circles, trying to avoid the each other, but at the same time eyeing each other, glancing in each other’s direction, trying to avoid giving the other the pleasure catching them staring at them, but knowing they were noticing each other, realising how much had changed since they were last together.

All Souls

They are never truly gone

Always there with us 

In our hearts and in our minds

Always with us

We take them with us wherever we may go

And though they maybe gone 

Their presence we feel

In our daily lives

In the things we do

In things that reminds us of them

They continue to live in our memory of them

Never haunting us 

But always with us

Guiding our way, lighting our path

And one day they get to visit us

On trails of petals of orange 

To ofrendas put up in their honour 

They traverse over the bridge

That connects our world with theirs

Following the trails of petals of orange

To be with us 

To spend time with us 

To do the things they loved to do

Eat the food they love 

And drink the drinks they have drunk

And we in turn pray for them 

Especially the ones struggling to find peace

That through our payers, words, and deeds

That they find their way home 

Running on a Cool Morn

There’s nothing better

To go out for a run

On a beautiful cool morning 

Running strong and steady

Chasing the sun

As it slowly chases away the night

With skies changing from ink blue

To wine, then crimson, then orange

Till it’s finally a beautiful shade of blue

Oh how wonderful it is to run

With a song in your ear

A passion burning in your heart

Igniting the fuel that fuels you on

And yes you need hydration support too

Oh the joy it is to run on a cool morn

And yes to complete the mileage

You had set out to cover 

And then some more!!!!!!

Trekking Through the Park

As I took a step into the place I loved the most, but this was in an area I had never seen before, an area I had never been to before. Nonetheless it still had my heart, it still made me feel at peace, it still felt mine.

I take a deep breath and take in the beautiful, crisp, fresh air. Probably the only place in this city where you can enjoy pristine, clean air, that fills you with you joy.

Though you can hear crackers in the distance, you know it will never disturb the pristine nature you are in. And you are happy it’s far, far, away.

The smell of wet grass fills my lungs, intoxicating me, taking me high. And no, before you assume me to be smelling another kind of grass, I would never permit myself to pollute myself with it.

The sun has been kind, and not harsh, and creates perfect picture postcard moments as it burst through trees, illuminating our path. Causing the grass to glisten from the dew that settled on it.

As I trudge along the kaccha road, along with my fellow trekkers, many of whom I have greeted a number of time during my run in the park, but who were now my fellow trekkers.

We trudge along the route, occasionally stopping to form a circle and hear what Srini sir has to say, a speech, a message he has delivered a numerous time but one that always remains poignant and important on how we are blessed to have a green lung within our city, how now, more than ever, we need to protect it from the greed of men.

You also learn about a beautiful soul, Machindra, who from his own experiences and struggles, has been striving to uplift his little community, give them the resources and life that he didn’t have, that he had to work hard for, with the support of many generous souls, some who were with us.

As you walk over kaccha roads, trails, and dried up stream beds, you wonder if you are being watched  by the original inhabitants of the park, to whom the park rightfully belonged, and we in a way were trespassing on their territory. You wonder if they were observing you from the trees and grasses.

You continue to walk, discussing every topic under the sun, literally and figuratively. 

Low and behold you reach the small hamlets, after all the detours, and all the pictures you tried to click.

You marvel at the Warli Art that adorns the house. You admire every inch of this beautiful red wall, and the white figures painted on it.

You meet Machindra, who’s truly a beautiful soul, a son of the soul. Humble, kind and dedicated, working tirelessly for the upliftment of his people.

You snack on the wonderful Diwali faral laid before you, and pour over the albums that the villagers have shared.

You visit the study area that has been built for the children, marvelling at the artwork created by the children, which is beautiful, and I would not be exaggerating if I called it stunning. 

Once again you click a group pic, visit their mandir, which has tree that bears the marks of the original inhabitants.

We say our goodbye with a promise to visit again, and will be back bearing all the supplies that would be needed. 

As you walk back, you can’t help but smile, you can’t help but feel this joy in your heart, you can’t help but feel blessed, hoping you can too, in your own way contribute to help Machindra and his community.

Indeed it was morning well spent, trekking through the park, a walk to remember.

A Summer Romance

Their’s was a summer romance, but somewhere down the line he lost his heart and he fell in love. Unknowest to him, he didn’t feel the same way.

He made it known to him, from the start, that he was not looking, he was not looking for anything substantial, anything long-term, anything that would be labelled. But despite it all he fell in love with him.

He knew what he was getting into, and though he tried to ground himself, he let it his heart heart flutter, he let his guard down, brought down the fences that he put up to keep the unwanted out, to keep them from trampling on his lawn that he cultivated with pain. He let himself be vulnerable and bare for him.

He waited with baited breath for his call, and cancelled all his plan just in case he called, if he wanted to meet , or just hangout, or to just hookup. He was ready to drop it all just to spend sometime with him. He was always willing to drop it all just spend time with him. 

His heart fluttered whenever he used “us” to refer to them. He quivered whenever he touched him, whenever he  put his hand on his shoulder, or grabbed him by his waist. 

When he hugged him him he felt he could melt into him, just having his body pressed against his.

And he felt he could die whenever he kissed him, even when it was just a simple peck on cheek, or kiss on his forehead. To feel his lips against his, against his skin, was all he wanted in his life.

He cherished every moment they spent tangled between the sheet. He called it hooking up, but for him it was making love. He gave himself wholely to him, to do what he pleased, and in it he found pleasure.

He loved the their clandestine meetings , they making out in places where he would never dare to be this bold, to be this open.

He made him feel bold. He made him feel free. He made him feel sexy. He made him feel desired. Most of all, he made him feel loved.

And then with the end of summer he was gone, leaving him behind pick the pieces of his broken heart. He had moved on to another, just like he said he would. He said he was free bird who couldn’t be caged. Who’s spirit couldn’t be pinned down.

And though he knew this day would come, cause he knew he was never his, but he rued the fact he let his heart love him. He cursed himself for letting himself fall in love (he couldn’t curse him, no matter how bad he would have wanted to).

He felt hurt and betrayed by himself though he tried to stay practical and grounded, though he knew what was to come.

So he let him slip away, let him become a memory, cause he was never his, cause it was only summer romance for him, but in this all he lost his heart and got it hurt.

Being YOU

It’s not easy being who you are. Its not easy being different, something that society terms as not normal and unnatural. It’s not easy to live out proud and loud, for all to see. It’s not because you are afraid, or you are hiding in your closet. It’s the way you choose to be. And this is not easy to be when you feel constant pressure and judgement.

They may say that love is love is love is love, but this is not true. Love is not the same everywhere. A non-heteronormative love has many labels and boxes that you need to fit into. And you need to navigate through it all these labels and obstacles to find what you are looking for. And when you get to the one, you are all fatigued from navigating the hurdles and obstacles, making you wonder if it is worth it all. You end up being paranoid.

When you find the one you wonder if you are able to vibe, whether you are compatible, sexually and emotionally. And when it comes right at the start, it can make or break what you worked so hard for.

And no matter whether you are out and proud, or quiet and to yourself, happy being who you are, you are emotionally fragile. 

You think and overthink everything, you read and over read into every word and line and situation. You let your paranoia get the better of you when you keep analysing and overanalysing every situation, every word, every action, trying to understand what was the purpose of the action, when you try to read between the lines, when there’s nothing there between those lines. 

You let your past experience work you up, build up fears, form clouds of doubt in your head. Every situation works you up, every action, or inaction, is scrutinised to extent of paranoia. And then you are labelled too emotional.

Its being someone who doesn’t follow the the norms of the community. Your lack of interest for all the parties and orgies like get together, makes you feel quite, quite boring, quite vanilla. You end up wanting a very heteronormative relationship and commitment, which is so difficult in community where promiscuousness is rampant (and there are instances where you too fell for this ). But isn’t men in general supposed to be promiscuous, wanting to speed their seed. 

All you want is to spend time with the one you love. To be in their company. To have their presence in your life. To feel their touch, their caress, their love. You love the attention. But at the same time you are socially awkward. You are not comfortable in parties, you don’t really smoke or drink, you tend to go into your shell, and prefer to be home before midnight (and no, you’re not Cinderella).

All this makes you feel like the least interesting person, boring, bland and vanilla (there I used the term again).

This makes it difficult for you to find companionship, and if you find it, it’s difficult to sustain it (but then aren’t every relationship difficult to sustain). So you end up going through breakups and heartaches. But instead of giving yourself time to heal you find yourself falling in love, cause you’re a fool for love.

And despite it all you can’t help but be who you are. Who you are meant to be. And whether it’s not easy to be you, there’s no other you who you would rather be, no matter how many times you wished you would rather be someone else.

Like a Fish Out of Water

I stood there, like a fish out of water, watching them twirl and swirl around  in a blur. Wanting to jump right in, but fearing that I would not be able to keep up and would drown in their flow, and would be literally be trampled over.

It was not that I have two left feet, not by far. But this was another beast altogether, one that would need sometime to tame, sometime to learn. But this was not the time, this was not the place, and this was not your complex where you could get way by merely mimicking what others were doing.

It was not that I thought I would pick the steps up in a jiffy (well a part of me thought I could). 

So I stood in the periphery and admired them dance rhythmically to the beat, round and round like a merry-go-round, twirling and swaying, but their energy never dipping. If they sat out a few round, they tagged another who matched up and even exceeded their vigour.

I stood there wishing I could dance like them (like I always feel no matter the form, a certain lack of confidence), dance with them, matching their steps, matching their energy, their stamina, their finesse, their enthusiasm, their rhythm, their josh, their joy, their passion. 

And when I tried , I got sidelined with a a few seconds of me trying, asked to step aside if I couldn’t keep up.

And everywhere I looked I saw people dancing with such passion and grace, something I lacked. 

So I would rather stay out of their way and watch, and try to do my own thing, and just enjoy myself.

Being Whole

What if we are whole the way we are? What if we are never meant to be complete? Or we are complete the way we are? Never needing another soul to complete us?

Wanting something or someone to complete us leads us to longing. Longing leads to loneliness, sorrow and pain, if what we long for is never found, never comes to us, never is ours to be. 

And we continue to live in loneliness and despair, always longing, always hoping, but never getting what our hearts desires, what our soul wants, what our flesh needs.

What if we do find something or someone. But then we bind ourselves in the shackles of our own expectations. And if these expectations aren’t meant to be met, then we buckle under the weight of our own expectations, often leading to disappointment, hurt, resentment, doubt and pain. 

And like a cage it imprisons us never letting us out, never letting us soar, never letting us love, never letting us be happy. Always holding us back, always weighing heavy in our hearts, always sowing the seeds of doubts and pain in our mind, driving us insane.

What if we are whole the way we are. Complete without needing anyone us else to complete us. And if someone should enter they are absorbed, rather than fitted, into our world. Cause we are complete the way we are.

Turning 43

For me birthdays have always been special. It’s your day, a day you celebrate you, it’s your name day (it looks like I am back to GoT mode once again). It’s the day for cutting cakes, dressing in your finest, wining and dining, and toasting you. Raising a toast to growing older, to another year under your belt. You made it through another year, or should I say, you survived another one. 

But turning 43 felt different. It felt lonely and melancholic, rather than joyful and celebratory. It had me feeling low and lost, a bit flustered and frustrated, a bit broody and weary and disturbed. It had me internalising and being an introvert.

And no, I have no problem with growing older, or even greyer. I have accepted that a longtime back and embraced it. Growing older has it perks, except when you get called an uncle. 

You are down not because of growing older but because of your circumstances, your situation.

2022 has been (so far),  a tough year. From struggling with health issues of the mental and physical kind, to the stubborn weight that refused to leave your side (literally). If that wasn’t enough you end up having to cope with break ups and heart aches. And then you have your loneliness that makes you wonder if you are ever going to find a suitable mate, even before you have given yourself time to heal from your past wounds. You wonder, do good men deserve to find love, even the vanilla, boring kind.

Your expectations, your loneliness, your fear from your past, your past mistakes, your past situations, your past experiences, lead you down the path of anxiousness, of self-doubt, and self-inflicted pain.

There were times (and there are still time) where you wish you could escape it all, where you wished that this pain would end, that this feeling of loneliness could just go away and leave you to yourself (the irony of the statement). Where you could sleep and never wake up.

All you wanted to do is runaway from it all, put an end to it all, find some peace of mind, when you feel there’s no end in sight. Somehow you struggle with your loneliness the fear of being alone, fear of being rejected, fear of not being accepted cause you don’t vibe, or you don’t satisfy them physically. All leaves you wondering if you deserve to find someone to love you like the way you are willing to love.

If I could sum up my head, before my birthday, I could do it in these lyrics by Roxette -

You want to hide when you're alone

Where do you run to when everything's gone

You're looking to find a good thing in life

But nothing's in sight at the end of the line

So where do you hide when you're alone

Where do you run to when you're on your own

That dream in the dark just sank like a stone

That voice in your heart

It won't come to the phone

It never comes

Rishikesh has always been on the list of places I wanted to travel to, with all the people visiting it , and yes wanted to do rafting and bungee jumping. Also, I wanted to take a stab at solo travels. I heard of so many people talk about doing a solo travel, it made me want to do the same and see what’s the fuss was all about, experience it all.

But then there was also a fear and sense of hesitation and nervousness, considering I was going through a low, confusing, patch in life. You have this sense of apprehension of whether if this is the right thing to do, is this the right moment go on such an undertaking. But you need to to get away from it all, cause if you don’t, it threatens to consume you whole.You need to find your sanity, you need to find a peace of mind and so you go on the trip.

While in Rishikesh, I may not have found the answers to the questions that riddled my mind, or a way out of the circumstances I had put myself in, the predicament I found myself in. I don’t think I even expected to find answers and solutions, for that matter even love (though somewhere you hoped you could have one those romantic stories where you find love on trips).

What Rishikesh did give me were moments of peace and tranquility, moments to sit in silence and take it all in. Moments to declutter my mind, moments to make sense  of the insanity in my head. It gave me moments to appreciate the faith and beliefs of humanity, to not view everything from a religious point, to open your mind and just accept. 

So be it sitting quietly at the ghats, observing the mighty Ganga as it flowed steadily, while devotees took dips in her, trying to find a way to wash away their past transgressions, to get her blessing, to find moksha.

You found peace while dipping your feet in a stream, or just observing it flow, overcoming all the obstacles, the rocks that came in its way, and in it you found a lesson for yourself.

You found serenity just staring at the mighty Ganga as she flowed through the valley down below, or the Misty mountains covered in clouds, with the moon right over it. 

But then there were crowds and crowds of people with their mobile phone trying to click pics and selfies as they crossed the bridges, or pedestrians walking in lanes meant for vehicles. And while you want to take in the Ganga Aarti, you have these aunties who insist on video calling their relatives, or capturing it on their phones which they held up, even though they had the best seats on the ghats. But then you realised you too were one of them.

You have crowds and crowds of people  in places where you wish you could have some peace and tranquility.

Then you had your dorm mate who insisted on being your guide and show you around the place and take you through lanes and by lanes and telling you about places and myths, when you just wanted some alone time to be with yourself and thoughts. But in hindsight, I did appreciate his company, cause me alone with my thoughts would have been a recipe for disaster.

My decision to stay in dorm of a hostel, rather than at a hotel, actually helped quite a bit. It pushed me to get out of introverted shell, which I keep going into, make acquaintances and find my own way, rather meander around, dragging my feet feeling sorry for myself.

So at the end of this little strip, little solo adventure, I may have not found the solution to my problems, answers to my questions, ways to stop reading into things too much, to stop overthinking. I was still still a bit disturbed, still had heaviness and anxiety. 

However, what I did get a from this trip were moments of clarity, moments to realise that if I need to find peace, I need to make peace in my mind, accept the situation , have no expectations, anchor myself. I had to avoid letting my emotions to get the better of me, though it’s alright to be emotional at times , to cry at times, but not let it control me. I have to stop overanalysing and overthinking and over reading into things, cause the more I did it the more I am leaving myself open to hurting myself. I had to stop having expectations from others, cause everyone has their own ways and agendas.

But most importantly I learned I desperately needed to be by myself for sometime, not let my loneliness become my desperate need to be loved and in a relationship. I needed to be more kind to myself, more appreciative and respectful of myself as I am of others. And accept myself for who I am, a little broken, a little damaged, a little disturbed.

So there you have it, I am 43 and sure hope I can put these realisation to effect to help me be better and saner.

And do I want to do more travels on my own, well the world is large and life is short, so why not I enjoy my own company while making memories.

His Blush

He heard that all familiar beep. He knew what it meant. He tried to ignore it. He tried to go about doing what he was doing. Not wanting to get all caught up in it, all addicted to it. So he tried his best to ignore it.

But after a few seconds, there it was again, and then another, immediately after the first. 

Now his curiosity got the better of him. He needed to know what were the content. And although he promised himself otherwise, his curiosity got the better of him.

He reached for his phone and read every word. 

He suddenly felt of flushed, all hot under the collar. He felt like the blood from all over his body seemed to have rushed to his face. The words that he read had caused him to blush.

He wondered if men even blushed. Was it manly to blush? But what he read had all the ingredients to bring about this feeling in him, this wanting in him, this longing in him, causing him to blush.

After the last heartbreak, after his last heartache, he promised himself never again. Never would he put himself through this pain, never to get his hope high, to have this expectations, to have it all come crashing down, breaking him down. 

But yet here he was trying hard not to let these words lead him down a rabbit hole and into the unknown, trying hard to anchor his feelings and emotions and be real. And these words were making him loose control, loose control over his emotions, over his feelings, that he was so hard trying to keep under check.

It was causing him to build hopes and dreams, a lifetime of togetherness. Making him act like a giddy teenager. Was making him blush.

Just then when he thought he could blush no more, his phone buzzed… “My dearest Hubby….!” And he blushed a crimson shade of red!

Take a Chance on Me

If you change your mind

I'm the first in line

Honey, I'm still free

Take a chance on me

If you need me, let me know

Gonna be around

If you've got no place to go

When you're feeling down

Sang ABBA… but isn’t this something we keep asking ourselves and keep asking others. At every turn, at every moment , at every phase of our lives, that’s what we keep saying, that’s what we keep wanting, that’s what we keep asking.

Be it a dating app, or a job interview, or love, that’s what we ask, take a chance on me. It’s take the chance and go through the door, not knowing what’s behind it, what’s in store for us. Or take a chance and take the leap of faith, not knowing whether we will plummet down, or we will find our wings and take flight and soar.

It’s like standing in front of your lover (or a love interest) telling them that you are just a boy standing in front of them to love him. To put all the past hurt, to put all their doubts and fear, behind them. To heal. To take a chance of him. To love him.

It’s like flipping through various profiles on a dating app, each in their own way asking you to take a chance on them and swipe right, give them a chance to know them, to show you who they truly are, or let them get into your pants.

It’s like going for an interview and asking your interviewer to take a chance on you. You have shown your qualifications and experience, now you need the chance to prove your ability, your capabilities. And hopefully they will not regret giving you the chance, or you won’t regret taking the chance.

At the end of the day, life’s all about taking chances, on love, life, and everything in between, never knowing what’s in store for us.

Rafting on the Ganga

On my way back from zip lining across the Ganga, I chance to see groups of people wearing life vests and helmets, with paddles in their hands, and rafts being inflated. As I ride along, I pass vehicles ferrying rafts and along with their occupants.

Could this possibly be what I was thinking? Would the Gods have been so kind on me? Was rafting started before the date they were supposed to start?

I race to the market before I loose my chance to tick off one thing off my list! But not too fast so as to avoid skidding on the road that had gravel on it, thanks to the all the landslides. And yes I already skidded in the most funniest of ways!

After riding for a while in the market I was able to zero in on an operator and manage to book myself with them. I pay the charges and wait for them to prepare the raft. I also take a brief trip into market.

When I come back, I have to wait a while as the raft is still not completely ready, and yes more importantly they are waiting for other occupants. 

Once again the Gods were kind on me and I don’t have to wait too long, when a group of five gentlemen come to enquire, and finally sign up.

Once the raft is ready it is loaded atop our transportation, as we pile in into our transportation to the start point.

All through our ride I get to know that these gentlemen come from various part of the country, with one of them being a Mumbaikar from Borivali who frequents my beloved BNP.

At first I try to keep to myself, but then this is not a good time to be shy, after all this was supposed to be solo trip, my solo adventure, to put myself out there and make new acquaintances and friends.

As we reach our destination, we help each other to put on and tighten our life jackets. We put on our helmets and head down to the river below, while our instructors prepares the raft. But not before some selfies are taken.

As we make our way down, along with other rafters, we dodge rafts that’s heading to the river.

We indulge in some more selfies and pics as we wait for our raft to reach. Once our raft is in the water, one of the instructors shows us how to hold our paddle, the different ways to paddle and instructions for the same, (dang I could make an eLearning module with all these instructions), but most importantly how to sit and balance our weight without falling overboard because of the current of the water.

After putting our mobiles and purses in a dry bag, we pile into the raft, taking our position l and locking our legs. Our raft slowly drifts to the centre of the river, following others who were ahead us. We wait patiently for our instructor give us our instructions.

We paddle towards our first rapid, and then stop, bracing ourselves to encounter the first thrill. Well it was thrilling, not as thrilling as I would have wanted to be. 

But then to our horror, the raft ahead capsizes, throwing its occupants into the river. It’s a moment of panic, but thanks to their life vests and the calmness of the instructor, they manage to hold to the raft. Some even hold on to another raft that’s nearby.

Once we know they are safe, we continue our ride downstream, more aware of the importance of paddling in unison and listening to our instructor.

We almost miss the next, gentler rapid, missing out on the thrill factor. To our dismay our instructor signals to us to row towards the bank signalling the end of our rafting experience, and the vehicle will come and take us back.

We dejectedly get off the raft, but decide to take a dip in the river. But then luck favours us as the cops do not let them take the raft up as doing so would damage the road.

So we get into the raft once again and we are back on the river. Well there may not be much of a rapid but we get ride the current.

Our instructor lets us take a plunge into the river, one at a time, but we need to hold on to the rope at the side. 

So one by one we jump into the river and then we haul ourselves up by pushing down on the rope while your fellow rafters pull you back on board by your jacket.

As always I am the last person to go into the river, and although I am wearing my life vest, there’s still this tiny bit of panic that grips me, leaving you feeling like you are going under, making you want to immediately get back into the raft. 

So you try to haul yourself up, of course with the help of your raft mates (raft mates has a better ring to it). Now all that’s left is follow instructions of your instructor and reach the end of your rafting journey. But not before you can get some quick clicks, and a round samosas and bidding farewell to my raft mates.

Well, with this I can proudly say that I managed to do rafting at Rishikesh, even though I not ready to strike this off my list so fast. But all said and done, even though it was not as exciting as I thought it would be, I am happy I did it and thanks to  the Luck Gods for favouring that day and giving an opportunity to do something even before it was officially rafting season!!!

Riding the BRO

Never thought I would find myself riding the BRO. That is Bharat Road Organisation for the uninitiated (damn this should be ingrained in me, a rule of thumb, to always expand an acronym! What a Duh!)

So here I was riding down the BRO, a simple rider on his simple two-wheel ride, nothing fancy, nothing that you would take with you on a bike trip.

As Bikers pass me by wearing all their biking regalia, I feel so underdressed, like a person who’s shows up to party in shorts and flip-flops, sticking out like a sore thumb. But then I am no biker so I think I can be excused.

I ride slow and cautiously, slowly and steadily building the confidence to ride this long, winding road, being careful not to skid over the pebbles brought down by the rain.

So you ride down the road as it twist and turns, making it way around the hills, having the river Ganga for company in the valley below. You occasionally stop to capture the sights, to have something physical of these memories you make, not just mere photographs on the walls of mind, cause what stands before is majestic and breathtaking and you aren’t sure if you would get a chance to see them again (though in your heart of hearts you sincerely wish you get to see it all again).

And then you see people clicking pics and taking selfie, making you want to go up to them and give them poses and click their pic, not that you are some tees mar khan who clicks world class pics, but you surely know that you could click better pics.

So you capture these moments, both on your phone, and in your mind, and make on your way. 

And though you may not be a biker but in those few moments we get the bikers high, the thrill of riding the BRO!!!