For someone who would entirely understand,
The matters of the heart as well as the mind

Amidst the trials and tribulations of life,
Who would hold hands and lessen the strife

Out of the blues, did you descend, as an angel, my way,
A shining sun peeping through the clouds on a clear day

Your loving presence lent warmth in the wilderness cold,
Kept me going through thick and thin, the touch of gold

Holding hands, riding on crests and troughs,
Let us adventure and iron out the roughs

Just to pen my thoughts into words,
Thank you for being there
Apology for occasional thunder

Count on me for an entire lifetime,
T o support you any and every time!

The Blog-Health-o-Meter™ reads This blog is doing awesome!.

Crunchy numbers

The Leaning Tower of Pisa has 296 steps to reach the top. This blog was viewed about 1,100 times in 2010. If those were steps, it would have climbed the Leaning Tower of Pisa 4 times

In 2010, there were 6 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 20 posts. There were 14 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 408kb. That’s about a picture per month.

The busiest day of the year was June 9th with 85 views. The most popular post that day was Caught in a knot….

Where did they come from?

The top referring sites in 2010 were facebook.com, mail.google.com, talkgadget.google.com, rpc.blogrolling.com, and Google Reader.

Some visitors came searching, mostly for matheran haunted, mysharada, mysharada.wordpress.com, aunties bathing worn sarees, and path to the horizon.

Attractions in 2010

These are the posts and pages that got the most views in 2010.

Caught in a knot… June 2010
8 comments

About July 2007

Prevailing Landscape January 2010
3 comments

Gazing outward, ‘looking’ inward ! October 2009
1 comment

Happy Diwali umm or Diwala??? November 2010
1 comment

Bursting……….. mind!

Culminating in, Exploding………. in entirety during the exams!

And then finally…….. Relieffffffffffffffffffff! Icing on the top – a blessing from the PGP office – a day off!

The day was rather unusual, even for an exam day. A heady concoction of Finance and Law – what an irony after the crash! I am sure there might be many Fin Gurus basking in the glory of doing well in the exam; the lesser mortals like me perhaps had a worse in Finance than the others. Nevertheless, over it was, for the better. Hopping down the stairs, I felt my stomach gurgle and beg for ‘the minimum limit of food, subject to the Memorandum of my hunger’. I thought,” My stomach has the ‘justiciable Human Right for Freedom of Life’!” Hence, we walked towards Sanchi. As luck always has it with me, ’twas closed L Made our way towards the mess and stood in a serpentine line with fellow Human Right activists to feed our stomachs after three days of torture. IIM has a particular way of life, from quizzes to our own plans, everything is planned or disclosed (as the case may be) at the last moment. We decided to catch the 4 o clock shuttle to Indore. We struck a ‘deed’ for feeding ourselves sumptuously later, hogged a bit of lunch and caught the bus, literally. In light of the fact that the bus size could not be ‘compounded’ to match a batch of 450 being let off at the same time, I rode to Indore mounted on the gearbox – hot seat! As the bus moved on, after an initial outburst of laughter and talks, the continuous whirring of the engine made us sleepy. The weather outside changed too – ‘ghanan ghanan ghir ghir aye badra’ and it started drizzling. A cool wind lapped our faces and soothed our minds. After a while, this is how we felt -

After a treacherous, strenuous trek uphill, the discovery from atop a gorge, of a panoramic view of the sea opening into a wide expanse; and far at a distance, a tiny little land – the Treasure Island!

Thankfully, we got a seat in the bus while coming back, chitting chatting about the recently released Akshay Kumar-Aishwarya Rai starrer with a ‘garam Barista coffee ki pyaali’ in hand (intentionally mentioned for ‘cobranding’ ).

All in all, we had a great time. I wonder if it is the Present Value of our exams that really helps us realize the Future Value of their getting over and the sense of relief that follows! Anyways, the next time we get free, it will most probably be time to hop on to a cab to catch our flights. I just hope that we all successfully compound our efforts for the FV of the end terms. Amen!

Flashback…

Bruised and battered after a barrage of GDs, essays, interviews and assignments, Priti’s marriage would be a welcome respite, an oasis in the middle of a desert, I had thought. It turned out to be much more than that!

We had been preparing for the marriage as much as the bride must have been, I guess, with all the shopping and matching and tailoring. Thankfully, we managed to get things done before the release (pun-intended. By the way, I hope Shiv (the bridegroom) learns to cope up since my ex-roomie wouldn’t ever dampen her spirits when it comes to releases). The tickets were booked, bags packed, dear aunty updated with the itinerary and at long last we started from home to ‘catch’ the bus, given our vows to leave at the eleventh hour, this time because of me. J Reached bang on time, boarded the bus, met friends, exchanged pleasantries, settled in our seats, hogged from our tiffins and then went to sleep. Sounds good till now?

Somehow, we have been bestowed with a divine blessing that our journeys would always be spiced up with memorable incidents. When I was fast asleep, I saw a long hand drawn in from the aisle of the bus and a human figure leaning by my side. A brave heart, I was not scared and tried to figure out what it was; then realized that it was an agitated ***(Can’t disclose the name due to privacy laws) trying to wake us up for a seemingly urgent matter. Breaking news – ‘nature calling nature’ in the middle of nowhere and at past midnight. We got up, stared at each other for a long time trying to shed our sleep and to figure a way out to put the bladder at rest. When we looked out the window and found absolutely no sign of any civilization… what do you think, we got scared? No way… We started laughing out loud – it was a feeling of nostalgia – another friend of ours had thrown up a similar tantrum on a trip from Pune to Mumbai; we were used to this. We pestered the bus driver to stop the bus thrice and began a breathtaking (literally) wait for the bus to screech to a halt. Our wish was granted by the driver after around forty five minutes. After the ablutions, we tried to celebrate our victory with tea but the bitterness made us celebrate with cold drink instead. To hell with precaution, long live cure – would bring the bus to a stop again. Hi hi haw haw haw!

After gazing the twinkle twinkle little stars for a while, I went back to sleep. At around 3.30, I felt someone softly urging me to wake up. It was Bhavana(my other roommate), she wanted to show me around Aurangabad and she did. Holy cross school(built on a cemetery by the way, hooooo), cantonment area, the way to Bibi ka maqbara, baba petrol pump, railway station chowk, JNEC at a distance, the chat centre which was all desolate at that hour in the night, Jalna road, Ravi… Since it was said in the same breath, I thought that Ravi was some monument too but later realized that it was indeed a homo sapien sapien who boarded the bus in Aurangabad, though, it seemed to me that a person had to be monumental in nature to take a bus at that hour instead of an earlier one – found the actual reason later – he wanted to escort us ‘abla naris’ to Parbhani properly – oh, what did you think? Thus ended the scripting of Bhavana Tilwankar’s Midnight’s Aurangabad – A tribute to Salman Rushdie…

The next morning saw a replay of ‘Kaho Naa Pyar Hai’. The sun’s rays tried their best to wake us up; and in the absence of an Amish Patel who would caringly draw clothes over our eyes, we had to wake up and sit straight. After a bumpy ride through a barren, dusty photographer’s paradise, we touched Parbhani on Saturday at 9 in the morning. We headed on to the mangal karyalay to meet the bride. She looked like a doll in a saree, being smeared with Haldi.

We then went to our allotted rooms to freshen up and get ready for the other functions. Wrapped in sarees, we attended the Vinayak pujan which the bride and her parents perform before her marriage. The Vinayak – Yash – was a cool kid and we happened to strike a good rapport with him and his girlfriend Padma – who later turned out to be a drum sized girl elder to him. Subsequent to this was the Kalash pujan when we danced with the bride.

When it ended, everyone was completely spent out in the scorching summer heat and we slept our way to bliss. The evening was an extravaganza. They had organized a program which had dances by the young and the old alike and a biopic enactment on Priti’s life – emotionally charged, with a few tears dropped at touching moments and a lot of INR greenbacks showered. The climax was when Priti danced very cutely, like a doll, on the stage towards the end. The curtains finally went down with our Ganapati dance. How could we not dance at the wedding of our beloved friend?

The following ‘day’ was largely uneventful for us. After the arrival of the Baraat in the morning, there was a chain of rituals for the bridegroom. Having no business there, we proceeded to Mugdha’s(friend) place. After sweating to glory in Parbhani’s extreme heat, we heaved a sigh of relief in the ‘thanda thanda cool cool’ comfort of Mugdha’s house with a fan atop our heads, and that’s when I had a chance to really get to know Priti’s other friends; who now are as much my own! I was quite at ease already with ‘Divya’ Jyoti, having met her once before. The ‘monumental RAVIshing’ guy (pun intended) opened his mouth for the first time and it dawned on me that looks can really be deceptive – till now his calm looks hid the chatterbox in him. ‘Apna Sud’ Sudarshan was awestruck for sometime – Ahh the awe inspiring dignitaries that we are – but finally let his mouth do the honours in intermittent gusts of silence and repartee. My dear roomies were there, all along, one on the phone and the other on the sofa opposite mine. Mugdha came out to be a perfect hostess, the married lady that she is, and a sweet friend. We all made friends with Mugdha’s mom as much as we did with her. Umm, I think we bugged her more than Mugdha does, though! After a movie length discussion on Parbhani’s theatres and movies to watch, ultimately there was a failed bid to watch Rajneeti. Phew, thankfully – who would leave a cooler for an AC less theatre? After some rest, we made a beeline for the mangal karyalay, met the bridegroom and started getting ready for ‘the event of a lifetime’.

In the evening, the marriage ceremony began with the arrival of the bridegroom on a ghodi, rituals for his welcome and a nose-pull by the would-be mother-in-law. After the bride received the bridegroom, the couple together walked up the aisle leading to the stage. During the exchange of garlands, there was a glimpse of our ‘chota don’ in the way Priti put the garland over Shiv – ‘Don ko maala dalne se rokna mushkil hi nahi namumkin hai’! The inevitable photography sessions with relatives, known and unknown, followed – the couple painfully smiled and we happily quenched our hunger. At the muhurat – an hour before midnight, the couple made an appearance in a new set of ‘vesh bhusha’ for the traditional rites and rituals. What followed is anybody’s guess – Mantra paath, fere, saat vachan, mangalsutra rasm, maang bharai – in the wee hours of Monday and with everyone sitting like a zombie – sleepless. The climactic end lay in the Vidai. This is a marriage I saw at real close quarters and perhaps understood, to an extent, what it means to marry off a daughter, why is it that the daughter and the parents shed a flood of tears – the ‘triveni’ of the ‘ashrudhara’ probably lies in the uncertainty of her future in-law household, the realization that things will never be the same again and that the daughter’s priorities and love would now be directed towards others; she will be drawn away from her present family – a void that can never be bridged. ‘Palki mein hoke sawar chali re’ – Mrs. Priti Manakshe drove away ‘Just Married’!

I am amazed how emotions can change, a play of light and glass, changing colors every now and then. After the high of the vidai subsided, it was life as usual. Everyone chattered and the guests started leaving. After a cup of tea we were dropped by Priti’s brother to the railway station. A train was already waiting for us dignitaries. We boarded the train and I dozed off to sleep. I could hear some rumbling about station names that my ‘co passengers’ tried to feed me with so that I could incorporate them in my blog. However, for a person who never did a night out even for the most important of exams, the limits had already been crossed and it was impossible to be awake. Reached Aurangabad, went to Bhavana’s place, slept and ate, left for Pune in a bus with an irritated driver but powerful brakes (phew!), stopped over at a beautiful place in between – Smile Stone – saw the ostrich like bird Emu, reached Pune safe and sound, just to leave again on a longer trip soon. My four year long stay in Pune has been a great milestone in my life or should I say a ‘Smile Stone’ in my life???

The air is buzzing with talk of impending nuptials. Who’s next? We are ready for a cameo!

The gears of the mind machine wheeling,
And the engine of the bus straining

Both surging in the direction ahead,
Towards distant destinations they tread

The friction of motion, in both, heats,
But the will to surge beats the heat

Faith heals and further it builds,
With ambrosia one’s entire being it fills

Continuous cranking, however, needs grease
To start afresh after ironing out the crease

With your anklets of rain drops, Oh Monsoon!
We eagerly beckon you, please come soon!
]]> http://mysharada.wordpress.com/2010/05/13/the-beckoning/feed/ 0 mysharada 3062834429_de1d69d8a3 http://mysharada.wordpress.com/2010/02/21/the-horizon/ http://mysharada.wordpress.com/2010/02/21/the-horizon/#comments Sun, 21 Feb 2010 05:47:10 +0000 mysharada http://mysharada.wordpress.com/2010/02/21/the-horizon/ ]]> Staring at the horizon,
Bedecked with crimson

I reflected and mused,
Which path to choose

Whether to tread the known,
Or gamble for the unknown

A sudden ripple in the mind,
And an answer did i find

Cognizance makes it easy for sure,
But always a horizon does conjure

As a distant goal somewhat obscure,
And to achieve we strive ever more

As uncertainty persists either way, i wonder,
If its terra incognita that i should consider

At least the heart will be satisfied,
Who knows, one day i might even win the fight !
]]> http://mysharada.wordpress.com/2010/02/21/the-horizon/feed/ 1 mysharada horizon http://mysharada.wordpress.com/2010/01/30/dimensions-of-life/ http://mysharada.wordpress.com/2010/01/30/dimensions-of-life/#comments Sat, 30 Jan 2010 12:18:54 +0000 mysharada http://mysharada.wordpress.com/2010/01/30/dimensions-of-life/ ]]> Are all things ‘real’ 3-dimensional or 2-dimensional ??? 3-dimensional of course… isn’t it?

Everything ‘real’ is thought of in terms of a trio of dimensions, the inseparable 3 idiots – length, breadth and depth. The closer a depiction(of any creative sort) comes to being 3-dimensional, the closer it comes to LIFE. Perhaps a glimpse of the much hyped James Cameron’s Avatar would go a long way in illustrating this very fact.

With the advent of progressively progressive technologies, the unreal is having a tryst with the real, progressively trying to overtake the latter. What about Android technnology being looked forward to by technology geeks in the just arrived decade or the virtual world having a greater say in human lives than the real one. Technology is strenuously being advanced to achieve what nature achieves with a heady mix of great ease and complexity. DNA refactoring, human intelligence replication machines, voice,smell,touch simulation, prosthetic limbs, testtube babies…

Ironically, life itself seems to be on a rewind track; curling its third dimension up like a touch me not; as a measure to protect and adapt itself in the changing kaleidoscopic world lest shall it be stamped an orthodox, a nonprogressive, unbecoming. With advancing technology, life is morphing into a size zero, sacrificing its depth, transforming into a flimsy sheet – birth certificate, degree certificate, offer letter, promotion letter, will paper, death certificate, a hanging photograph – the entire being trapped into a frame of two dimensions. Then how could life possibly be 3-dimensional?

Everyone’s life has invariably been reduced to the twin dimensions of the dialectic between being and becoming. The green offshoots in any other dimension are ruthlessly pruned off. Life has been reduced to a thin gossamer fabric, with the superficial length and breadth but lacking that so very needful depth, heavily relying on the thick satin cloth underneath for its beauty to be manifested and admired by the onlookers. Material goals and ambitions need to be built upon a strong moral and human foundation. Mother Teresa, Nelson Mandela, Bill and Melinda Gates foundation, Bill and Hillary Clinton foundation – the satin cloth of the society. Churning the thin fabric by the tons isn’t enough, the satin cloth is equally important. Then again, just saying this isn’t enough, it has to be DONE. But how?

I wonder if personal formidable power helps provide that thickness to our thin fabric transforming it into the thick satin cloth, strong and shining. Hmmm… Formidable power riding on the back of the flimsy greenback. Symbiosis, one feeds the other and the other feeds it back. As long as the feedback continues, we are good to go. So, don’t worry, be happy !!!

Its hypocrisy on the run,
Here, do not miss the pun,

Morality completely choked,
Sycophancy rewardingly stoked,

Is this what lay ahead,
Our ethics for us to shed,

Definitely a picture utterly negative,
Might help, realization of the positive,

It seems we have hit the bottom,
From where we can but only blossom

The mind seems akin to a prism with the scattered dewy thoughts being the occupants of the spectrum. We constantly gaze at dear life through our own tainted glass. A slight change in alignment, a trigger of the mind, a surge of a thought wave and the entire picture transforms. The same situation, ground reality at times rears negativity while at others breeds positivity in terms of will power, determination and so on. It all depends upon the frame of the mind at that moment. Matches your wavelength???

A serendipitous alignment, a sweet accidental orientation of the prism, the dawn of a new depth of thought, the origin of philosophy – not a discovery of new realities but novel perspectives. There are diverse provocations among various people that whip up their philosophical cream, which has a distinct corner of the mind all to itself.

One such inspiration that shifted the gears of Akshata’s brain and creaked her philosophical muscle into motion was, staring out the window of her room. While rolling through her engineering studies she would religiously extract sometime to have a date with the window as a daily ritual. Her hostel room on the second floor in the second year of her college had been the best; offering a panoramic view of a vast campus playground at the centre, neatly framed with the adjoining road with its graceful curvature and the portion of the city beyond. The shades of the sun would paint the scene in its own hues, sometimes bathing it with the morning freshness and at others embellishing it with the majesty and peace of the night. The twinkling street lights would highlight the flowing curve of the street like a princess’s necklace, if not a Queen’s (that’s the monopoly of only one!). The jungle – green and concrete – could be seen near and far. She would in a trance keep gazing through her beloved window immersed in the peaceful darkness of the night, transgressing the threshold of minutes to hours, touched by the poignancy which her act evoked. The physical expanse perhaps would assist her mind and heart to spread the wings and soar high to an elevated plane of consciousness thus dwarfing her worldly predicaments to a size insignificant enough to abruptly stop worrying about.

As the year drew to an end, departure from her room was a pain. Yet, she had to move on; having emblazoned the window and its magical conjuring of thought provoking images on her memory but alas not the photographic plate of a camera. Ahhhh…

In the journey of life, flowers of new experiences blossom to eventually wither out during the fall, bleeding the heart. Nonetheless, the cycle continues and spring brings in its wake yet new shoots to be welcomed and caressed. This play of birth morphs the sadness of the heart into nostalgia, a bitter-sweet lingering memory, thus continuing the journey forward. Akshata’s window gazing had been replaced with her visits to the terrace. After all, something’s better than nothing. However, she missed peeping through her cosy little recess at the infinite wilderness beyond, a paradox pregnant with thoughtfulness.

College gave way to professional life. She turned busier and the time for poignant reflection was devoured up in the pursuit of the mirage of the ever alluding success. Along the course, she happened to move into a house at the fifth floor of an apartment. Yet again, the setting of her room was punctuated with a little window that opened to a divine vista; a string of misty hills at a far distance, a colony of thatched roofs on the sloppy land nearer, blocks of houses with patches of green all over the landscape.

The view is wider than the earlier, perhaps by virtue of elevation from the second to the fifth floor. She has come a long way from the second year of engineering to the fourth year of her professional career. The window has grown smaller but the aspect wider. One wonders if it is an indication to widen one’s vision, open one’s mind, elevate one’s goal, slip through the contracting aperture of positivity among the myriad difficulties of life, spread one’s wings and soar high above the petty considerations of material success in the pursuit of not pleasure but happiness!!!

The play of creation on green offshoots,
But about the insects & worms we moot

Chitter chattering birdies in their abode delight,
Alas! We turn a blind eye to the heavenly sight!

The celebration of life,
Why butcher with a knife?

Come, let us put the worldly ills to rest,
Together, let us live life with zest!