Some things are better left unsaid. Or so it seems. Maybe.

Endings...

The last few days have been super hectic. There was a lot happening at work; I was trying to finish reading the Odyssey for my mythology course; there were those Diwali gift boxes that I had pledged which I now needed to put together....in short I didn't know whether I was coming or going. To add to that, I have come down with a throat infection and fever and general exhaustion.

Tomorrow is my last day at TC. I joined them nearly 5 years ago and it has been an interesting stint. The last week has been full of deadlines and last minute stuff...spent today doing handovers...another round of handover tomorrow...and then time for goodbyes. Change is scary. Change is good.

Why is it that the deeper the emotion, the harder it is to put into words? So much to say, and no way to express any of it.....Why is it that the things you wish to forget are the ones you just cannot get out of your head...Why is it that just when you think maybe you have figured things out, something comes up out of the blue and shatters that illusion, leaving you vulnerable again...What do you do when the words you utter seem to make no sense to others... and when your unanswered questions refuse to go away and leave you in peace...

An old post revisited

I used to have a blog on rediff many years ago. This is something I posted on the blog on Independence Day nine years back. I had meant to share it here around 15th August this year but life got in the way. Anyway, this is what I wrote, in its unedited entirety. Some of it applies even today.


Well, how can I not mention it...Our Independence Day...It got me thinking.....what does it mean to me? When I was very young, it was simple - it meant a holiday. We'd go to school only for the flag-unfurling ceremony, sing the National Anthem, manage to squirm through a long and boring speech by a local dignitary, eat the sweets being distributed, and the rest of the day would be free. To spend playing with friends, or curl up with a book, or go watch a movie with the family. Soon I realised that there was more to it. It was the anniversary of the day our country had attained freedom from foreign rule after a long, hard struggle. It was a day to remember and thank all those countless known and unknown men and women who had made a million different kinds of sacrifices for this goal. Who had "given their tomorrows for our today".

Of course, soon I also learned about the horrors of the other event associated forever with our independence day....the partition. My dad's entire family was displaced in the event. My grandmother used to tell me about her own experiences, or those of people she knew, and I would listen fascinated. I found it hard to take. For a while in my preteens, Independence Day acquired two very different sides to it....However, I managed to come through it without lasting damage ( I think !!).

I'm a patriot through and through. And it's not just because I'm an Army man's daughter. Hearing the National anthem being played gives me goosebumps and leaves me misty-eyed. I can't explain how hurt I felt when I attended a show of this movie where the Anthem was played, and I was among only a dozen odd people standing....the others remained seated....how can people do this to their own National Anthem?? Why feel ashamed to pay respect to your country? Have you ever seen children, the way they sing the Anthem with all their hearts and at the top of their voices? What changes as people grow older? Why can't adults do the same? I feel very strongly about this and I'm sure I'm not alone.

Yes, I feel strongly about my country, the Anthem, the flag. I feel proud to know that we're one of the world's most ancient cultures, I take pride in telling people about the degree of advancement and sophistication achieved by our ancient civilisations. I feel great when an Indian gets talked about for achievements in any field - be it academics, research, writing, arts, films, sports, business, anything. And yes, I'm the type to paint my face with the tricolour and take a flag and go cheer the Indian team when they're playing ( and it need not be only cricket).

But being patriotic is much more than that. It means not just talking about your country's past achievements but also doing your bit for its present. It means caring where your country is going, and trying to make a difference. It means not just pointing out its faults ( I know there are a lot of those) but having the guts to try and do something about it for a change. It means not hiding behind excuses ( "Nothing can be done for this country", "One person can't change anything" etc etc) and instead, to have the courage to stand up and be counted. And not to let the pessimists, the hecklers, the anarchists, stop you.

To those of you who regularly lament, "It's the system that's rotten!!" I ask this: what is the system? Is it not something created by us? Who propagates it and strengthens it day by day? We do. If we are capable of this, we are also capable of changing it.

Begin with the small things. Don't give or take bribes. It's become a habit , I know. Don't let anyone turn a sacred relationship like marriage into a commercial transaction, by giving or asking for dowry. Instead of expecting the government to do everything, take the initiative and do something on your own for a change. Don't litter - learn the use of dustbins. Even if it means walking a couple of extra yards in the market in search of one. Start practising water-conservation techniques - I do it and believe me it's worth it. Stop running down your country at every opportunity. Make friends with your neighbours. Give up your seat on the bus/train to the aged lady you see standing ahead. Teach your kids the importance of being honest, being polite even to strangers, protecting our environment, conserving our resources - and let it be through example.

Yes, life is hard. Yes, it's tough enough to just get through the daily struggle for existence. But don't let all that kill our spirit, our optimism, our sense of humour, our humanity....

I'm putting into words today, something I've felt very strongly about for a long time, as my long-suffering friends will tell you :) This is not an intention to sermonise....

The countdown starts...

Some of my colleagues who won't be around next week decided to give me an impromptu farewell party last night. An unexpected and very touching gesture, complete with a beautiful gift - a Ganesh statue to bring me luck.

Amidst the fun and laughter and all that beer (really, a whole lot of beer), I found myself facing the first stirrings of the old bitter-sweet feeling. It's been nearly five years here; most of that time has been good and I have made some good friends.  Have learnt so much, grown so much. Moving on, although something I chose for myself, is bringing on a touch of sadness as well. I guess it's natural though. It's been quite a year already....All changes inevitably bring along a jumble of emotions and questions. Moving out of one's comfort zone, taking a leap into the unknown, can be scary. But I know I'm up for it. It's time.

One step forward, two steps back......slip and slide....all it takes is one call, one email. And we go back to square one. 

And time goes by

It's been a month and a half since I moved to Gurgaon. I'm settling into the place and getting used to life here. Sometimes I do miss Delhi but gradually I think that will go away. It helps that since moving here I have been able to reconnect with some good friends, people who were always around but perhaps because of the Delhi - Gurgaon distance I could not meet up much with.

The daily routine has changed. I finally got around to the driving lessons I had promised myself. Went on the long anticipated trip Srinagar to Ladakh; started a Masters course and managed to submit the first set of assignments. Located a place that offers Pilates but have not taken up that one yet. Got back in touch with some great people, friends as well as family. Found new things to keep me busy.....took some effort but I knew I had to do it...Found a new job (truth be told, they found me) and quit TC. Am in the process of negotiating my "release" from the current job at the moment.

Change is good. Clean breaks are good. I know now that I can deal with whatever happens. I know now that I am stronger today than I was a few months ago. And I also know that I'm truly lucky to have so many people willing to be there for me in difficult times.....Everything will be fine.

New beginnings

Finally did it. Moved from Delhi to Gurgaon like I'd been meaning to. Just didn't expect it to be the way it happened but what the hell. It's been two weeks now; it's a very nice flat in a cool society and I have two new flatmates. Life is very different from what it used to be when I was living alone. Learning new things everyday. Fresh starts are good.

Went out today for the first time since.....Meeting an old school friend should be good right...Almost chickened out at the last moment but somehow managed to push myself to go....Didn't help that we ended up going to the same place that used to be such a regular haunt of ours. Found myself looking around for you. Wanting to see you. Dreading to see you with another....
They say it will get better with time. I don't know. At this moment, I just cannot see that point in time. The questions in my mind remain unanswered.

New shoes. New clothes. New haircut. What now??

Orchha

“Photo? Take my photo?” he says, walking after us as we stroll towards the bridge on the Betwa. I oblige, and the sadhu baba gives me a beatific smile. I wonder if money is now expected, realise I’m not carrying any cash to give him and say something to that effect. He smiles and says, “Beta I will never ask you for that.” I feel ashamed to have suggested it.

This small town has more than its share of saffron-clad men and women, but it shouldn’t come as a surprise because this is after all basically a temple town. Jhansi, the closest big city, is a mere 25 minute drive away – but the difference is dramatic. Orchha is small and still retains the innocence of a place untouched by the hectic nature of modern life. Oh sure you have the Tata Sky dishes and motorbikes and even – so I hear – a local radio station. The market has signboards advertising Italian cuisine, B&B’s and shops selling kitschy souvenirs. But the pace of life here is slower, gentler. The locals in the market all seem to know each other.  Life revolves around the temples and the daily aartis. Nobody hurries, nobody has deadlines. Nearly everybody has a smile on the face.

A group of young boys watches as Christine and I walk across the bridge, get some shots of the Chattris , and walk back – just about managing to escape being pushed into the river by a truck that has rumbled too close past us. When we reach them, one of the boys shyly asks if we’d like to share a soft drink. We smilingly refuse and continue on our way.

Orchha is a medieval town, established in the early 16^th century by a Bundela king (interestingly, he died saving a cow from a lion). The palaces and temples of Orchha are reason enough to visit, especially if you are a history buff like me. The fort here has a number of palaces built during various periods of its history; Jahangir Mahal for example was built as a welcome gift for the Mughal emperior Jahangir when he visited. There is also a Sound and Light show held here every evening which acts as a good introduction to the history of the town. I could have done without the melodramatic death scene though....

There are many famous temples in Orchha but to me perhaps the best sight here were the cenotaphs (Chattris) standing in a row like brooding sentinels; these riverside memorials to former rulers are now in ruins and still starkly beautiful. I stand and watch the sun disappear behind them.

At night, the stars come out. Standing by the river I look up and try to identify constellations. I think I see Orion. I know for sure that it’s been a long time since I saw so many stars in the night sky. The night is quiet, peaceful and I could well be all alone – except for the half-full hotel just behind me.

We decide to attend morning Aarti before leaving Orchha. The Ram Raja temple is the only temple of its kind – Ram is worshipped here not as a deity but as a king. In deference to his royal status, a pair of cannons is posted at the entrance of the temple. Sentries are on guard duty outside and inside. We go in, a few minutes before the morning Aarti is to begin. The temple courtyard is full mostly of locals, who from the looks of it seem to be regulars here. There are of course also a few gawking tourists like us. I have a vague sense of unease, feeling like an intruder – I never visit temples if I can help it – but I soon start feeling better.  Finally the sanctum doors are opened and the Aarti begins; the bhajan being sung is one that I’ve never heard before, but the entire congregation seems to know it well. They sing loudly, unselfconsciously, with all their hearts. A mother picks up her toddler son to allow the priest to touch his forehead in blessing. An old man is getting a wedding card blessed by Ram raja. The bhajan goes on, soothing yet cheering. I look around. I feel tears running down my face that I can’t stop. And finally, after years of declaring I don’t believe in prayers, I find myself saying one....

For Mom

You held my hand when I took those first unsteady steps. You let go when I demanded freedom. You worried when I got late coming home from work. You tried not to let me see it. You consoled me through the heartbreaks of teenage life, and didn't say a word when I vented on you. You read all my nonsensical writing and pronounced it brilliant. If I start to list down all the things you've ever taught me, I'll run out of space to write. For your unconditional love and support, for your gentle and unwavering presence behind me as I moved forward in life, I can't thank you enough. All I am today is because you were there for me. Love you so much. Happy Mothers' Day Ma!!

Changes

Restructuring at work finally was announced formally today. Most of us had an idea what was going to happen of course, the grapevine being strong as ever!! So in a nutshell a lot of new responsibilities for me, big challenges ahead, and what seems to be a number of former friends suddenly turned against me....Of course I'm a little nervous, it's a lot to take on in so short a time span, but you know what....Knowing that XYZ are predicting my fall and failure is just the kind of push I needed to strengthen me, make me resolve to do well and prove them wrong.

So even though what I now have is not exactly what I had wanted or asked for, I will play the hand I have been dealt, for better or for worse. And to hell with you non-believers!!

My English Summer: Day 08

06th June 2010:  Left Skye today and drove to Inverness, crossing the Glenelg Scenic Way. Finally was getting to visit Nessie!! Loch Ness is just this huge, and I mean huge expanse of water. 25 miles long, 1 mile wide, over 700 feet deep. Interestingly it's a mix of salt and fresh water - salt water stays at the bottom and fresh water on top, with some kind of geothermal layer acting as a barrier. Not sure of the technicalities but interesting fact anyway.
Looked around for Nessie but maybe she was sleeping in, it was a Sunday morning after all! Took some pix, picked up some pebbles as I'd promised my sister, and then we left for Inverness.

I'd been lucky with weather so far, in all my time in Scotland there hadn't been a drop of rain and we had some glorious sunny days. Today that changed and the day was dark, gloomy, windy with bouts of rain every now and then. Apparently this is more what Scottish weather is supposed to be.

From Inverness we went on to visit the Culloden battle site. This was the flat patch of moor where the Jacobites led by Bonnie Prince Charles fought a final battle against a much larger, superior, well rested English army under the Duke of Cumberland in the mid 18th century. Danny told us the story and had us spellbound with the way he described the build-up and the battle. It was literally a massacre, over in less than an hour's time for the most part. No prisoners were to be taken, so all survivors including the children were killed, as were the women who had followed in the wake of their Jacobite men. And that isn't all. Once the battle was over, the English set two trained butchers on the field to ensure that none of the dead would be recognisable in any way. As a result, all that marks the dead of this battle is one big common cairn in the middle. There are also numerous small stones scattered around, each bearing the name of a clan that fought and died here. The story was so painfully sad that I suspect not one of us was left dry-eyed. It was a very sad place.

At Culloden I took a coffee break because somehow I found myself very affected by the whole story of the battle and the brave Highlanders. In time we all got back and soon a short drive brought us to Clava Cairns, a prehistoric burial site that is supposed to be three to five thousand years old and the best preserved Bronze Age burial site in Scotland. The cairns of stacked stones were constructed in such a way that on a solstice day the light of the sun would hit the inside wall of the cairn. Nobody knows exactly why the cairns were built but it is supposed that they came up gradually over many years.

From Clava Cairns we drove to this tiny little town called Aviemore, which is mostly a base or jump-off point for people going trekking/skiing/hiking in the mountains. Practically half the town was built around the one High Street. I will remember Aviemore for the awesome hot chocolate I had here :-)

Leaving Aviemore we went past Blair Atholl castle (I realised that this is the place after which the original Scottish owners had named what is now Wallwood Garden in Coonoor) to Pitlochry, a slightly bigger town. It was raining much too hard to look around though, and we continued in the driving rain towards Edinburgh. Crossed the Firth bridge and were at the Mile by 6pm, saying bye to everybody. I left for the bus station with two of the nicer American girls, as we found that all three of us were taking the night bus back to London.
So, midnight saw me bringing in my birthday in a National Express coach somewhere on the highway to London!!

My English Summer: Day 07

Got up early today at 7am, had a quick breakfast, washed up after ourselves. I found time to go take some pix of the lake in the morning.

Eventually we all managed to get into the bus and left for Skye. After crossing the Skye bridge, stopped at the other side (Kyleachin) to photograph the bridge and Saucy Mary's Tower. Spent the entire day on Skye. The beauty of this island cannot be described in words, and even the pictures don't do it justice. I fell in love with this part of the world on that day. Some of the places we stopped to see:

Cuilin Mountains: Said to be created when two giants fought each other

Portree: The main town of Skye, cute as anything. Buildings set around a square, parallel and intersecting streets, tiny and interesting shops. Bought some local crafts here for myself and friends. 

Glenshiel (Gaelic = Gleann sheile) or the Fairy Glen: This is supposed to be the point where our world and that of the fairies meet and the fairies come out to play. If you make a wish here and leave behind something shiny and appropriate, it just might get granted. Danny our guide had given us an hour's break here for lunch, so I climbed up to the top of the rock he had described as the fairies' fort. Spent the hour communing with nature, admiring the views, and making halting conversation with the elder of the Russian brothers. The place did in fact feel magical, and the rest of the world felt too far away to matter.

After passing Uig and some stunning seaviews we stopped at an unknown point that was all cliffs and cliffside paths and great views again. Most of us decided to join Danny on one of his "wee" walks. It began simply enough, but soon the trail got narrower and slippery due to the loose gravel, and I began to fear that I was going to do one of my "Neha fell down" routines..not an easy time at all! The view at the end did seem worth it though. Coming back down, the route seemed to have become longer, naturally. I was quite relieved to be back on flat ground again!!

Also saw the "Old Man of Storr" and stopped to hear the story about it, and visited the Kilt Rock with its waterfall. From here, one can get a view clear across the sea to the island of Raasay and Rona and even the Scottish mainland. Apparently we were very lucky as there are very few days when this place has such good visibility.

I was really tired by the time we drove back to Strome. But this was probably the most beautiful of my days in Scotland. Just thinking about it now makes me want to go back!