The Black Raspberry Tree

Just like a children fantasy novel, my grandfather’s house was in an idyllic village – Jalalpur (Assam). I often wonder, probably this is one of the best things that ever happened to my life. I am not imagining or daydreaming, but the village actually flaunts a meandering river, a small sandy riverbed, a tea garden, numerous hillocks and miles spread paddy field. I remember, my sister and me used to wait thirstily for our summer and winter vacations and spend days and nights nagging behind our parents to take us there. The moment our bus reached the last stop, everything turned magical. Starting from taking a ferry for crossing the river to walking half a kilometer through bamboo bush shades and by the paddy-field-side, the journey to dadu’s house is still as surreal as it was 12-15 years ago.

There was a black raspberry tree just beside the pond near a huge coconut tree. It was a thin tree with even thinner branches. Don’t know why, but it was strategically located just on the pond boundary and catching those distant black raspberries was almost risking the life. But we, the little gang were very desperate to have them and our adventure used to start when every body was asleep after lunch.

After so many years, every time when I'm in a fruit market, consciously or unconsciously, I look for those small-black-thousand-dimpled-juicy-fruit. But just like those lazy summer afternoons, these black raspberries also seem to have vanished from the world.

some Gain...Some Loss

As if I’m placed on a balance. Every time I want to equalize the weight, I stoop and end up loosing something. Some gain, some loss. This is relentless. This is of without any break. This is as eternal as the sunrise in the east. And an obvious as well. At the end of the day it’s difficult to balance the equations separated by mere an equalizer. But just like any other normal person, I don’t give up. I keep trying. And I know this is not the story of mine only. This is everybody’s story with different equations. With different incidents and different characters. But the LHS and RHS never seem to see eyes with each other. Why? No body knows it. Another unsolved mystery.

Oh No…..Indian Idol hits again....

The season has begun. Again. The bunch of ‘besuras’ will rule the television prime time. Again. The judges will come up with some nice-to-hear-but-hollow statements; candidates will be busy in playing real-life drama and the anchors as usual will look good but act numb when chaos erupts. But you just cannot avoid it. If not Indian Idol, then there is Sa Re Ga Ma Pa with its gaudy set; if not Sa Re Ga Ma Pa then Golden Voice. You are just left with no choice other than switching off the idiot box or breaking it down purposively so that no other member of the family can see it. But alas...................

Gaming Nature

After a round of heavenly splashes preceded by whirling andhis, Delhi is sparkling clean. The trees are greener than ever and flowers look the happiest. The gulmohurs never seem to very grieved about the circumstances. They are always very confined in themselves and bother least about the cruel world. As a result yellow, red, pink and purple gulmohurs are causing colour riot in the heart of capital for last one fortnight. Today they also appeared so cheerful as if calling the raindrops to play with them. The Neem, Devdaru, Saptaparni, Mango, Karabi all are ready to take part in this extravagant celebration of nature. A true celebration, where no one shows off, no one takes back. I am also very much in the game and I am enjoying every little moment I am exposed to this beautiful creation of God - the nature.

Oops....it's ARR!!!!

New hair style, different set of clothing.......ARR is riding a back-journey. Who in the world would believe that he is 41?! Doesn't he look like 25!!!

He must had taken the journos in storm after entering the press-room clad in rusted denim jacket and fluorescent blue t-shirt flaunting the super-cool hair style. Since I'm no way close to him, I can only make guesses how he would have giggled after having a first look at the mirror.

Now, someone may ask, what has his look to do with music. But still, arn't we happy to see our favourite man behaving smarter?

Delhi Rains

Starting from the pebbles of Chandni Chowk to the Minar of Qutub, everything of Delhi seems to be talked about. Why? Awwai!!! Probably because there's nothing much to speak about its art and culture. An inane in all respect of life, foppish in each and every field, I dont find a single point to get fascinated about this city apart from its heritage and parliament. Anyway, thats a different story all together. But surprisingly, Delhi rains are not very famous among the Delhi fanatics. I have no clue for that either. Delhi rains has got some wackiest character. I remember my school and college days in Assam when I loved to get drenched in rains like anything. Starting from hiding my umbrellas and deliberately not getting in bus but walking two three stops used to be my most favourite activity in rains. But God save me from Delhi rains. Every raindrop seems to be needling my bone! It’s dead chilling!! After a series of sneezing/coughing and finally fevering experience, I have started to avoid the most favourite season of mine in Delhi. But that’s not all. It has got another interesting character that makes it even deadlier. Just before the rain hits the ground, a 15-20 minute andhi provokes each and every dust particle on the road to go up and glue your body. When you are very well dust-coated, then starts the heavenly rain. So, you can have a special ‘mudding’ feeling all across your body wishing to get wings so that you could fly straight home and have a bath.

But I must confess, despite of its peculiar nature, rains is the only season in Delhi that I love the most. I just cannot get over from the wet earthy fragrance and superb green vista arising just after the heavy shower.

Lord Buddha - A benediction

I always wonder what was in the mind of a 29-year-old man that he left all the luxury of a prince? How were the initial days of austerity? Didn’t he ever feel to go back home? No, but he proceeded towards light and it was no late when he was the same as light – he was enlightened. He attained Nirvana. Lord Buddha is my all time fascination and his thought captivates me like anything. I keep on reading and reading about him forgetting the fact that I am supposed to write also.

How anybody would define the significance of flower in our life? That its beautiful, it evokes the artistic sense of a human being, it has birthed poetry, represents the nicer side of our life, inspires us to blossom in life, etc. or someone may think that flower represents the love of life and gives a sense of tranquility to all. No doubt, these all are right and no auspicious occasion of our life is complete without the ubiquitous fragrance of rose and jasmine.

But ever thought, what that divine gentleman had to say about flowers? Lord Buddha thinks flowers are meant to signify that the world is temporary. Just like the beauty, freshness and fragrance of flower, our life is also on the mode of passing. So value present time.

I wonder, what was in his heart and mind that still he is as beautiful, as fresh and as fragrant as he was two thousand and five hundred years ago!