Unforeseen Melancholia : 46-B5, Golden Temple Mail

8 June 2016

Dear Papachu, 

Sitting in this train, I had a sudden urge to write to you. There is something about travel that fills me with overwhelming emotion. I concentrate better on a berth than in a study room and airports are my classrooms where I learn how to read people. I truly feel alive when I am being true to myself, when I am being a nomad. I like to be completely free, I like to be my impulsive self. Go wherever I want, stay however long I want. That way I do not invest in people, I invest in places. I invest in memories. My destructive impulsiveness becomes interestingly constructive. I meet beautiful people and I really look forward to that but since I know from the beginning that I am moving on in a while, it is easier to part from them. 

I’ve never really stayed at one place, even when I was a child. When I think of home, I think of Aai Baba and Gogo. I think of friends and neighbours and love, lot of love. I think of embarrassing childhood pet names and being treated like a child, of bickering in the kitchen and sibling rivalry, of my bookshelves and the smell of Aai’s Upma and Baba’s tea early in the morning. And just when I feel that I have found this place of happiness, I struggle to feel a sense of belonging anywhere. There are times when I feel I haven’t found it, my home. I long for a place I can call home, a place where I will feel peaceful and calm. A place where I don’t have to hide or pretend. A place where I can indulge in small pleasures of life and bring back memories from all my travels. A tiny abode that mirrors me. Ah, I dream so much about this little house of mine. It’ll have trees and murals everywhere and a dance studio and a small pond and vegetable patches. And a swing. No one ever lets me swing on a public swing. I am always afraid of sitting on swings, continuously looking over my shoulder. Checking if a guard or some nosy uncle is going to tell me that I am too overweight to sit on a swing. But I love swings so much. To and fro. To and fro. They always remind me of life, the past, the present and the future. We’re either busy planning for the future or looking behind in the past. We really enjoy it, don’t we? It is more exciting than staying in the present. Romanticising the past, fantasising about the future and somehow completely forgetting about the present. I don’t know why I am slightly melancholic today. When I opened my computer to write to you, I wanted to write about my upcoming backpacking trip this summer but I am writing about everything but that. I feel so heavy for some reason. 

I am in a train to Amritsar right now. We boarded the train yesterday from Mumbai and will reach tomorrow morning. And then we are off to Kashmir! Yay! Now see, I’ve never been to Kashmir but I feel like I know that place. I miss it at times. Is that weird? And after years of dreaming about it, I get to live there for a month. The journey is already turning out to be interesting. A Punjabi father-son are sitting next to us, amusing people they are. I can’t stop staring at them. Their camaraderie is quite entertaining. They have tons and tons of food, almost three bags full of this and that for a two day journey. I also like how they are extremely organised with their packing.  Such warm people, they’ve already shared a lot of food with us including a bitter gourd pakoda that I really enjoyed. I asked the son how it was cooked but he said that he didn’t know, the cooking being handled by the women of the house. 

This is the first time I am traveling with my siblings. It is weird, exciting and discomforting. I wish to bond with them and at the same time, I feel caught. I have my limitations when it comes to dealing with family. I become a person I don’t like, you know how some people bring out hidden qualities of you that you hate? I become a standoffish, passive aggressive snob. And I never let my guards down. Where does the carefree Prachi disappear, Paapi? I’ve decided to put in a lot of efforts this time and I hope this doesn’t end up making me more cynical than I already am. I feel extremely guilty about this cynicism. How can I be so cynical about family? I see how much they struggle with it too. And how despite being so  dysfunctional, we are always there for each other. Then why are the first thoughts always of disappointment, anger and fear? A huge puzzle, a one that I have no energy to solve. Although I am being pessimistic here, I still have a lot of hope. One day we’ll find our balance. 

I have to go now, my computer battery is about to die. I’ll write to you again as soon as I can. I’ll have more to write after Amritsar. I am looking forward to visiting the Golden Temple and Jallianwallah Bagh.  Jallianwallah Bagh is a reminder of a painful past to many. For me it is a place that can teach us a lot and ask us to re-evaluate our values. I look forward to going there and finding something. I am not sure what but I feel like that place will mean something to me. My father has an old photo album with pictures from when he was in his twenties. It has black and white square photos taken from a polaroid camera, one of which is him and my grandma at the Golden Temple. I like going to places where my family has been before I was born and I enjoy visiting places of worship.

I was going to stay at a couch surfing friend’s place earlier but now that it is the three of us, my father has booked us quarters in a government rest house. I hope it is not too hot. 

I miss you. I wish you were. 

Huge hug,

Prachi

Death Notice

A white hazy wall between us.

Unable to see each other, we weave a narrative that suits us.

I assume. You assume.

While we fight with our volatile self, we forget to notice that the wall is getting darker, stronger and concrete.

Extremely afraid to be the loser in the battle, we choose our egos over our love, pretence of indifference over our vulnerabilities.

I blame you, although I know I am at fault too. You blame me, although you know you are at fault too.

Or maybe Papi, we both didn't do anything wrong, we were just on different planes.

Trying very hard to protect ourselves, trying hard not to get hurt, we hurt ourselves again and again.

I wish it wasn't this way.

I wish we both would let each other see our bleeding hearts.

Our pain, our fears, our anger, our flaws, and our hostility. I wish we would give some space to ourselves to feel the unpredictabilities of our volatile emotions.

I wish we would grieve together for the loss of our beautiful relationship.

Let's be kind to one another. Let's be kind to our own selves.

This pain, my love?

It is going to fade away one day.

I am going to be left with your laughter ringing in my ears.

I am going to be left with the memory of those long walks when we walked with our hands entwined, without words but truly connected.

I am going to be left with the memory of that day on the balcony when the past or the future did not matter, that day when we discovered happiness in each other.

When the pain fades away, every painful memory is going to turn into an evocative nostalgia ride that will fill me with nothing but joy.

I wish we didn't built these walls, love.

I wish we knew how to just let go.

Finding Me. Finding You.

Freeze. Run. Stop. Turn around and face you. 
Love you. Hurt you. Scream at you. Hold you. Cry for help. 
Suffocated in a maze, confused and lost. The lights keep flickering. 
Falling down again and getting up. Getting up and Falling down again. 
Following the unsteady flicker, searching for balance. 
Embracing darkness to make space for hope.
Courage and Cowardice. Cowardice and Courage. 

Why Mumbai? Here's why!

You wake up to scenarios that you had imagined way ahead in the future, and with a pop you realize that this is it, you are an adult. (You actually start worrying about your age! Or is it just me?!)  Everything and everyone starts changing suddenly. Or maybe your perspective does?

As person who has a habit of romanticizing the past, I find changes like these very difficult to accept. 

Have you ever noticed how we start becoming cautious about people that we meet? We think ten times before becoming friends with someone and start shying away from people who are different than us. Even if we don't want to, we think about how they look, where they come from and if they are going to be useful to us sometime in the future. We hesitate to invest in people financially, psychologically and emotionally. There is also the danger of us wanting to surround ourselves with people who make us feel good about ourselves. We start making connections or contacts or networks or whatever you want to call it instead of real long lasting friendships. May be it is the fear of getting hurt, maybe it is an attempt to stay away from the truth that we might not want to hear or maybe it is just the pressure of today’s hard-to-break financial lifestyle. 

A revelation hit me when I met an old friend two months ago. I was meeting her after a very long time. I was very excited to meet her as she had been recently engaged. Sitting there in that cafe, talking to her, I had one of the most unbearable experiences I've ever had. She had changed so much. When I asked her about her fiancé I was provided with a balance sheet of his family. They had x number of flats in x number of cities, they x sources of income, they had a lot of shiny cars and they were going to spend sacks of money on the wedding, etc etc. I could hardly relate to her anymore. We spoke on many more topics and all it did was make me very agitated. This stranger was not the girl who brought me Tiffin from home every day because I missed home cooked food. I could hardly stand to see her like that. After an agonizingly long, squirmy hour, I made some excuse and literally ran home.  

I had a wake-up call. I asked myself, had I stopped being an organic friend? All relationships transition with time but was I too looking at people like assets and liabilities now? Was I becoming hard- hearted, wanting to discard people who did not fit in the script I had written for my life? How do I decide what is the right balance, what to let go of and what to clutch onto?

Adulthood is going to change you, but how much?

These questions only added to the ideological fluctuations I was having at that time. I felt extremely lonely. It was a suffocating loneliness that did not let me cry, did not let me talk to anyone and that made me feel like that child who had finally discovered that parents do not have the answer to everything in life. For the first time in my life I felt that heaviness you feel so many times as an adult. 

What do you in times like this? You talk to people who might not always tell you what you want to hear but give you their honest opinions when you ask them to. And who are these people?

Your friends!

I had a totally different itinerary, one that did not include Mumbai. I had a lot of people in Mumbai that I knew I could talk to. Old friends, new friends, people that I admired, many that I had strong bonds with. Also I had never really spent time exploring Mumbai on my own in all my visits. Two days before I left my house I impulsively decided to ditch Khajuraho and spend a few days in this city instead. 

I might disappoint you, but in the very beginning of my journey I did not do anything that I had set out to do. Instead I met and reconnected with some of the coolest people I know. 

I wandered aimlessly in the city with these friends. I got to do the whole tourist bit, visiting Gateway of India and the Chowpatty beaches. We sat for hours and had long conversations about various topics, some extremely meaningful talks and some not so much. We giggled and cried together, sharing our worst fears. Older people that I bumped into shared their experiences and how they had handled such dilemmas in their lives. I lost count of the times I squealed ‘exactly!’ with relief when someone said something that I could relate to completely.

Also what I did was that I recorded as many conversations I could on my phone. I replayed these again and again on my phone while traveling and kind of scrutinized them and thought a lot. I will come back to these conversations and the places I visited in Mumbai in another post.

Although I am still indecisive, going to Mumbai was definitely better than going to counsellor!

Open Skies

Why do you want to travel?

Why are you traveling so much?

Is all this traveling going to enhance your CV?

Traveling alone??

Is anyone paying you to travel?

You should take your brother along, no?

Oh man, you are becoming a hippie, aren't you?

A girl? Traveling alone??

How did your parents allow this?

Is it safe?

What will you gain by doing this?

Is this a part of your Master's Program?

Traveling alone??

Questions, curiosity, disapproval, jealousy, lots of blessings and some awe came my way and so did  some chirpy 'I-wish-I-could-join-you' shrieks and some sullen 'her-parents-are-going-to-regret-this' frowns. When I decided to backpack on my own, I got a variety of reactions from different people. They included some amusing reactions, some distressing, some frustrating and many that only made my resolution stronger. As I started traveling, I realized that answering these questions is a wonderful learning experience. Along with trying to convey my thoughts to the person questioning me, they give my thoughts a certain clarity. 

I've tried to find the Marathi/Hindi equivalent of backpacking but I haven't been able to find any suitable word. It is a new concept in our culture and something that is attracting many youngsters in the country now days. So for those of you who aren't familiar with the term, let me tell you the basics of it. Backpacking, which is very common in students in western countries, is different than a conventional holiday. Backpackers usually travel for  a longer time, for longer distances and keep their budget low. Many travelers prefer this way of traveling because it is much more a vacation. Getting introduced to new cultures and exploring diverse places, it is an important experience in a student's life. Getting out of your comfort zone and searching for something that even you are not sure about, sound interesting, doesn't it? For me, backpacking is an excellent way to break conventional barriers and to question the patterns that we follow without ever questioning them. 

The first time I realized I loved traveling was a few years ago. I and my cousin had decided to travel for a few days just for the sake of it. Just us two girls visiting a few relatives, a few tourist attractions and roaming around these towns on a bike while clicking pictures, talking about nothing and everything. It was nothing out of the ordinary but something that aroused in me a fondness for traveling independently. Over the years, my love for traveling grew although I hardly paid any particular attention to it. 

However, after completing my BA in Psychology and exploring the education system for a few months in Rajasthan, I started looking at traveling from a totally different perspective. It was so much more than just something that I enjoyed. It was a way of understanding how the world works, how people think, a way in which I could decide for myself, without any prejudices gifted by the society. Mark Twain puts it very aptly, “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.”

I realized that traveling was education. It was an unadulterated form of education that not only gave me immense freedom but also an opportunity to understand who I am.

I kept reading about inspiring world leaders who had traveled around the world and had explored their own countries to unravel the mysteries of their land. Many times in these journeys, they had stumbled upon simple solutions that had helped the world in difficult times. Gondavalekar Maharaj, the saint my town is famous for, had traveled the entire Indian subcontinent on foot. And so had many other spiritual and social reformers in India, I realized.

And so, I decided to embark on a backpacking trip on my own!

 I spent days fantasizing about my journey. I spoke obsessively to people about it, I read a lot of blogs and books, I collected maps and travelling gear. While I was confined to my home due to my ligament surgeries, I got a lot of time to plan my trip and to decide what exactly I wanted to do. I kept planning a lot of tiny details and I worked hard to save money. I also made some rules for my trip.

I was going to travel only with the money that I had earned. 

I was not going to stay in hotels. I sat for days sending mails to people I didn't even know, asking them whether I could stay at their house, digging up old contacts and calling some friend of my mother's friend's sister's daughter's friend and  the likes. 

I was going to document my trip well, take a lot of pictures, write regularly in my diary and make voice recordings/video clippings whenever I could.

I was going to use public transport as much as possible.

I was going to listen more and talk less. Ask a lot of questions to anyone who would be willing to answer! (I thoroughly enjoyed being a nosy, over inquisitive pursuer!) 

I was not going to carry a smart phone.

I was going to keep my ears and eyes open, not get lost in thoughts and ignore my surroundings completely. 

I was not going to let my rules and my schedule restrict me. 

I had more than 6 months of time to travel and to develop meaningful relationships with people I hadn't even met yet. I was going to make valuable friends, I was going to visit beautiful places, I was going to learn about new cultures, I was going to meet dancers, musicians, painters and artists! I was going to meet educators and change makers, people that had worked hard towards things that they cared about!

It was a exciting dream that looked within my grasp. And I started working towards it. 

I got the chance to turn a disadvantage into a wonderful opportunity and I took it. At the end of September this year, I left my house with a backpack, a handbag and a knee brace. It felt extraordinary. I had made my dream come true! I suddenly felt so powerful. Taking that bus to Mumbai with my money and my backpack ( that I had packed and repacked like a thousand times!)  was very unshackling.

Plus the joy that I had not forgotten a single thing at home was unbeatable. Sigh. :P

I've been traveling for the past one month and intend to keep traveling till June next year. I've spend a week in the intriguing Mumbai, 15 days exploring the marvelous state of Goa and a week in the breathtaking but volatile Konkan. 

Beaches, Churches, Temples, Restaurants, Bars, Cruises, Casinos, Cafes, Bookstores, Schools, Factories. Konkani, Marathi, Hindi, Portuguese, Kannada, French. Dance, Drama, Music, Architecture. A literature festival. A Fado performance. An art festival. Culture, Heritage, Religious exchanges, People, Conflicts. The migrants, the locals.

I spent much of the last year planning this trip. And honestly after completing part of it, I have come to realize that this is just a tiny little start to what is going to be an exceptional adventure. 

चौकटीच्या बाहेर

कुठल्या तरी क्षुल्लक कारणासाठी मी रडत बसले होते. माझा एक मित्र खूप वेळ मला समजावण्याचा प्रयत्न करत होत. खूप वेळ मी रडत असल्याने शेवटी वैतागून म्हणाला, 'Come on, be a man, don't cry!'. बाई आणि पुरुषांच्या पारंपारिक भूमिका झुगारून देण्यात ह्या मित्राचा कायमच पुढाकार असतो. तो असं काहीतरी म्हणाला आणि मी एकदम चमकून त्याच्याकडे पाहू लागले. त्याला पण त्याची चूक लक्षात आली. ओशाळून माझ्याकडे पाहू लागला आणि आम्ही एकदम जोरात हसू लागलो. आपल्या रक्तात स्त्रीत्व-पुरुषत्वाच्या कल्पना किती मुरलेल्या असतात ना ? खूप प्रयत्न केला तरी कधीतरी तोल जातोच. 

दुःख न दाखवणारा, खंबीर, रक्षणकर्ता तो म्हणजे पुरुष आणि नाजूक, काहीशी दुसऱ्यांवर अवलंबून असणारी, पुरुषाच्या मुख्य भूमिकेला साथ देणारी म्हणजे स्त्री . समाजात वावरताना थोड्या फार फरकाने असे समज कायम डोकावतात. थोडं नाजूक वागणारा तो पुरुष बायल्या आणि स्त्रीच्या पारंपारिक कल्पनेत न बसणाऱ्या स्त्रीला हिजडा, आडदांड अशा शब्दांनी हिणवलं जातं.

 मी एका नृत्याच्या कार्यक्रमाला गेले होते. एका तरुणाचा डान्स सुरु झाला. माझ्याजवळ बसलेल्या काकुंचं लक्ष स्टेजवरच्या छान नाचाकडे  नव्हतं.'किती बायक्या मुलगा आहे' 'अति नाजूक मुद्रा' 'नृत्य करणारी मुलं समलिंगी होतात' 'माझ्या मुलाला मी नाचाच्या क्लासला नाही पाठवणार बाई' असा काहीसं बोलण्यात त्यांनी भरपूर वेळ घालवला. माझं कार्यक्रमातून लक्ष  उडालं आणि पूर्वदुषित ग्रहांमुळे एखाद्या सुंदर कलाकृतीला माणूस कसा मुकतो याबद्दल मी विचार करू लागले.

         'आहे मनोहर तरी' हे सुनिताबाईंच पुस्तक मी अधूनमधून  नेहेमी वाचते. परवा ते परत वाचताना त्यांचं  जी.ए. कुलकर्णी यांच्याबद्दलचं एक वाक्य खूप लक्षात राहिलं. 'I live on prejudices', गैरसमजांचा छंद जोपासणारे म्हणून त्यांनी जी.एंचा उल्लेख केला आहे. त्या माणसाचे इतर सद्गुण आपल्यात नसले तरी हा एक दुर्गुण मात्र आपल्या सर्वांमध्ये नक्की असतो. एकाद्या माणसा बद्धल काही कळलं तर ते  पडताळणी न करता आपण आपले मत ठरवतो. खाजगी आयुष्यात तर हे होतंच पण आपल्या प्रसारमाध्यमातून सुद्धा हे ठळकपणे दिसून येतं. 

 लिंगभेद सोडा, जात, भाषा, गाव यांबद्दलच्या पुर्वाग्रहामध्ये आपण इतके फसून जातो कि एखाद्या गोष्टीकडे पाहण्याची निर्मळ दृष्टी आपण गमावून बसतो. त्यामुळे समाजाने आखून दिलेली चौकट झुगारून बाहेर पडू पाहणाऱ्या व्यक्तीची खूप कुचंबणा होते.कुटुंबाची खंबीर साथ लागते आणि ती मिळाली तर समाजातले इतर घटक हात धुवून मागे लागतात. 

मुलांच्या बाबतीत म्हणायच तर, मुल खूप चुकतात आणि त्याची त्यांना थोडीफार जाणीव देखिल असते. आईवडील मात्र आपलं काही चुकत का हा विचार करतच नाहीत. या सगळ्यामध्ये आपण एकमेकांपासून दुरावतो आणि त्याला generation gap असं गोंडस नाव देतो. एकमेकांच्या पिढ्यांना नावं ठेवतो पण एकमेकांना समजून घेण्याचा प्रयत्न क्वचितच केला जातो.

 माझा मुख्य  मुद्दातर राहूनच गेला. जसा हा दोन पिढ्यांचा वाद आहे, तसाच लिंगभेदाचा पण आहे. भेदभावामुळे स्त्रियांना त्रास होतो, खूप होतो. पण पुरुषांना होणारा त्रास आपण जमेस धरत नाही. मर्दपणा वगैरे वगैरे शब्द वापरतोच की आपण.

एक किस्सा सांगते तुम्हाला. एका मुलगा अपघातात जखमी झाला.  त्याच्या बाबांना ती बातमी सहन झाली नाही आणि ते एका लहान मुलासारखे ढसढसा रडू लागले. काकूंनी पुढाकार घेवून सगळं केलं आणि काकांना सावरलं. 'पुरुषाला असं शोभत का?', 'काय गं बाई ध्यान!' असे शेरे मी त्यानंतर महिनाभर गावात ऐकत होते. पुरुषमंडळी तर बोलत होतीच पण बायकाही तोंडावर पदर धरून फिदी फिदी हसत होत्या. 

आपल्या देशात होणाऱ्या बलात्कारांमध्ये २ टक्के बलात्कार पुरुषांवर होतात. कधी वाचली आहे अशी बातमी पेपरमध्ये? याबद्दल मूक का राहतो आपण? आकडा मोठा नाही आहे म्हणून? जोपर्यंत लिंगभेद हा फक्त स्त्रियांपर्यंतच मर्यादित नाही याची आपण दखल घेत नाही, तोपर्यंत काही तोडगा निघणं अवघड आहे. महिलांसाठी कायदे , आरक्षण करून समस्या सुटतील का आपल्या? नाही, समस्या सुटण्याऐवजी स्त्रीपुरुषांमधली दरी आणखीनच वाढेल असं वाटतं. 

स्त्रियांना बरोबरीची वागणूक मिळत नाही, म्हणून सतत रागात असणाऱ्या  काही व्यक्तींना भेटले आहे मी. त्यांचा राग रास्त असला तरी विचार करण्याची ती पद्धत खूप एकांगी असते. पुरुषांनी आपल्यावर अन्याय केला म्हणून संधी मिळाली तर आपण पण तेच करणार का? tit for tat? जशास तसे? किती सूडबुद्धी लपलेली आहे त्यात. स्त्री श्रेष्ठ कि पुरुष याबद्दल खूप वाद्विवाद होतात. शाळेमध्ये असताना पण आम्ही मुली, तुम्ही मुल हे कायम व्हायचं. मुळात आपण जेन्डरला एवढं महत्व देतोच का ?

एकतर्फी विचार करून सुटण्यासारखा हा गुंता नाही. लिंगभेद ही आपल्या समाजातली एक मोठी समस्या आहे हे स्वीकारण गरजेचं आहे. पुरुषांनी आणि स्त्रियांनीही. लहानपणापासून लिंगभेद मनात रुजतो म्हणून तो तिथूनच थांबवावा लागेल. समाजात प्रत्येक स्तरावर याबद्दल संवाद होण्याची गरज आहे.

आणि रोजच्या जीवनात? जावयाला जसा मान देता तसा कधीतरी सुनेलाही देऊन बघा. आणि, सुनेला जसं हक्कानं काम सांगता तसा जावयालाही सांगून पहा. एखादी बाई जर घर सोडून बाहेर जात असेल तर तिची हेटाळणी करू नका. त्याच बरोबर जर एखाद्या स्त्रीने घरी राहण्याचा निर्णय घेतल्या तर तिनं केलेल्या त्यागाची दखल घ्या. आमच्या शिंदे काकुंसारखं, मुलगा हॉटेल management करतोय म्हणजे स्वयंपाकी होणार असा विचार करून रडत तर आजिबात बसू नका! 

शेवटी काय आहे मंडळी, बदलायचा कि नाही ते आपल्या हातात आहे. बदल करण्याची वेळ तर आली आहे. 

'Be the change you want to see in the world' असं गांधीजी म्हणायचे.  

समाजात बदल घडवून आणायचा असेल तर सुरवात स्वतःपासून करा असा या वाक्याचा अर्थ. काय म्हणताय, करायची सुरवात एकत्र ?

मला नक्की कळवा.

रोजनिशीतले एक पान..

 खूप दिवसांनी आज पहाटे  उठले. बाकी कोणत्याही गोष्टीपेक्षा लवकर उठले कि आनंद होतो. कायम लवकर उठावं, पण त्यात सुसंगता येणं जरा अवघडच आमच्यासाठी.
सूर्योदय पाहिला. चिमण्या कावळे चिव चिव, काव काव करत होते. बाहेर एक चक्कर मारून आले. पहाटेची थंडी असते, तशी थंडी होती.  कुडकुडताना मजा आली. एक मुलगा स्वेटर घालून शाळेला निघाला होता . हातात जेवणाचा डबा , इस्त्री केलेले कपडे, अगदी छान विंचरलेले केस, पावडर वगैरे. एकदम शाळेची आठवण झाली.  सकाळी सातला  सायकलवरून शाळेत हजर. त्या मुलाचा थोडा हेवा वाटला एकदम .
घरी आले , चहा केला. आई बरोबर बसून प्यायला . तिनं केलेलं  उप्पीट खात असताना बाहेर एक भिक्षुक बाहेर येऊन सुंदर गाणं म्हणू लागला . बाहेर जाऊन बसले त्याचं गाणं ऐकत. एका हातात छोटी पेटी, कपाळावर गंधाचा टिळा. अगदी नेटनेटका अवतार आणि सुरेल अवाज. नुसते  पैसे मागण्याऱ्या लोकांपेक्षा ह्याला पाहून खूप प्रसन्न वाटलं . त्याच्याशी गप्पा मारायच्या होत्या पण राहूदे म्हणलं. परत कधीतरी.
मग एक्वेरियम मधले मासे पाहत बसले. आई परत झोपली  होती . थकली असेल, रात्री उगाच काळजी करत बसली होती . आता उठवावासं नाही वाटलं . झोपलेल्या माणसांकड पाहताना शांत वाटतं. तेवढाच वेळ बहुतेक आपण मुखवटे काढून बाजूला ठेवतो .
बसल्या बसल्या तेंडुलकरांची एक कथा वाचून काढली. त्यांनी त्यांच्या विशीत लिहिलेली. साखरपुड्याच्या दिवशी मुलगा एकदम लग्नाच्या भीतीने नकार कळवतो* आणि मुलगी नंतर त्याला जाब विचारायला येते अशी सरळ गोष्ट होती, पण शेवटी ती तेंडुलकरांची कथा. पुढच्या कथा वाचण्या अगोदर ह्या कथेबद्दल थोडा विचार करावासा वाटलं म्हणून पुस्तक बाजूला ठेवून बसले. डायरी काढून थोडा लिहून काढलं. कथेबद्दलंच न लिहिता अजून पण खूप काही लिहिलं. हे असलं मुक्तलेखन आवडत जास्त. काही विचार  न करता मनात येईल ते भरभर लिहणं.
जर मन भारावलं मग.  त्या शाळकरी मुलाचा विचार मनात परत आला, मग त्या चिमण्यांचा.
दुरून डोंगर साजरे म्हणतात , तसाच प्रकार हा. त्या चिमण्यांना असतीलच कि त्यांची दुखं, पण ह्या क्षणाला तरी तो डोंगर नक्कीच साजरा  आहे असं वाटतं  आहे.
आपण स्वप्नं भरपूर बघतो आणि स्वतःकडून काही अपेक्षा करू लागतो . खऱ्या जगात आलो की त्या अपेक्षा आणि सत्य परिस्थितीमध्ये तफावत बघून निराश होताना खूप जणांना पाहिलं आहे मी . हाच खरा संघर्ष असतो. इथंच आपण आपला मार्ग निवडतो. 'ह्या देशाचं असंच चालायचं' हे म्हणायचं, ' हा ढोंगी देश आपल्यासाठी नाही, आपण बुवा निघालो इथून' का  'हो, बिघडलंय खूप काही म्हणूनचं ते रुळावर आणायचं' हा  विचार करायचा हे माझ्या हातात आहे.  असे बरेचसे प्रश्न आहेत म्हणा.
चिमण्यांना काय, किंवा त्या शाळेतल्या मुलाला ह्या प्रश्नांना उत्तर शोधावं नाही  लागणार आहे. मला पण अगदी दिवस रात्र ह्याबद्दल विचार करायची गरज नाहीये खरं तर. हाती मोकळा वेळ भरपूर आहे म्हणून उगाच हे सगळं. पाण्यात पडले कि सगळे शिकतात पोहायला, त्याच्याबद्दल अगोदर खूप विचार केला तर मात्र उगाच शंका वाटते.
 विचार करता करता इंटरनेट उघडून काही बाही वाचत बसले. बाकीचा दिवस कशातच लक्ष नाही लागलं. राहून राहून थोड  भरून येत होतं.
अजून एक काहीसा निरर्थक, काहीसा विवेकी दिवस. दिशा किंवा समाधान मात्र नाही.




* Cold feet ला मराठी शब्द आहे तरी का?

Savera, I'll miss you.

I am usually very dramatic with good bye and thank you but today I don't care because it is about Savera.

Savera is closing down.

Thud.

Heart failure.

You dream about some things and they actually come true. They come true, with added bonus. As a kid even when I hadn't seen Fergusson, I knew that I would study there. With Fergusson, came Savera. And Savera become my Central Perk, my Adda. For five years, 'I am in college' meant 'I am in Savera'.

A few days back, my brother sent me a newsapaper clipping on Whatsapp. Due to rental issues, Savera was shutting down. I called him frantically, had he confirmed with Chetan anna? and yes, he had. Then just to be sure and hoping that atleast he will deny it, I called another Savera loyal. And then another and then another. By the end of the day, I had called and messaged almost everyone from my phone list. And although a few could not understand my agony, those who were Savera regulars sympathized with me.

I mean, How could it?

I  had heard rumors that they were going to change the name of Fergusson, and a lot of other stuff. But Savera closing down? Never dreamt about it, Naha. How could it? I mean I had dreamt about bringing my kids to Savera one day. Telling  them stories about my Savera times, my college and all the crazy bhai log that I had met in Savera. Anna would be greying, I would introduce my kids to Paneer fish pickle. They would love it. Everyone loves it.

Wake up. Go to Savera. Order a Idli Sambar, dip karun. Have bread toast and fiter coffee(Anna, Glass madhe!!) with it. Chatter with people around, spot someone you haven't met in days. Forget all about college. Who needs to attend lectures when you meet everyone in Savera? Plus, all the Annas, we came to Savera for them. They knew all about us and they were our confidants. They knew our Individual preferences, our likes, our dislikes. Our Exams, Our festivals, Projects. College gossip. Future dreams. Everything.

Savera is not only special to us, but to a lot of oldies that I've seen in Savera every morning. I never asked them about their Savera stories, I always assumed that I'll do that one day, Savera was always going to be there. I guess I missed out on some wonderful stories. Ah.

Now with Savera, Namaskar and Deewar are closing down too. How will FC road feel without them? Where are we going to share a paper Dosa when we are broke?  Spend hours completing journals on just a Nimbu Soda? Sitting alone eating, but not alone really, you always meet someone you know.

I wish I could have one last meal in Savera, order every dish that I love, have a goodbye thing with friends. Thank all the Annas. Stay there all day. I am not there though, which makes it hard and easy at the same time. To all those who are there, have fun. Have one last amazing, crazy Savera day. And give each Anna a big warm hug from me.

Savera, I'll miss you.

--------------

I made my friend Luv go to Savera on the last day after writing this post. He went there with a print out of my blog post and glued it to the wall among hundreds of other messages, written all over the wall by Savera loyals. 

Beholden

One and half year since I wrote my last blog post?

Huh.I am lazier than I thought I am.

..

This post is dedicated to three people, my uncle, my aunt and my mother.

..

The last 15-20 days have been, well, hazy.

Getting lost in a thick fog, an unexpected fog.

Not a painful situation, but you're kind of stuck, lost.

You have to wait it out.

I panicked a great deal right after the accident. I kept visualizing the faces of my parents. My father had been in a similar, a more dreadful accident this January. I had seen all the mental trauma he and my family went through for months. I couldn't even imagine putting them through it all over again. Even the thought of that made me howl. I am glad people around me mistook those cries for physical pain, because it is very difficult to explain that feeling. It still overwhelms me.

The first week was pretty stressful for everybody, with my surgery and other complications. Thankfully though, things turned out well after that. I am actually surprised that it worked out so well. Sure, the after effects were unpleasant but I had imagined things far worse.

I gotta say, I've handled this well. 

I thought about others this time, not about others in reference to me but only them as people who've suddenly come across something and their reactions to it. Some people said a lot of things that would have offended the younger me. This time though, it really didn't matter. I understood those feelings and I actually didn't let them affect me. No angry outbursts, no drama.

No 'everyone is being unjust to me' feeling. Now that is a big step.

But again, there was a line that I didn't let anybody cross. I was understanding but not unguarded. I did not let any body hurt me or my family. I stood up for myself. Another big step.

I received a call from this person today, someone who wouldn't be concerned about accidents and such 'trivial' things. You know those annoyingly blunt and obnoxious assholes whom you hate because they are right, almost always? This guy is that nightmare. He surprises me occasionally, and today was one of those days.

First of all, he called. That is news. And he actually sounded concerned. We spoke for a while and it was actually a pleasant conversation. Nothing out of ordinary, but I felt immensely happy. I rarely get such pleasant surprises. It made me aware of all the love around me.

I have sailed through this unfortunate incident with such ease.

It has made me optimistic and grateful and reflective. I have not felt so thankful in a very long time. Even when my leg aches, a lot, along with the pain, I somehow feel grateful that I am now able to understand what Baba went through. There is a lot of regret there as well.

Regret and guilt that I failed to understand his pain when he needed me to understand it. When my mother needed me to comfort her. I know now, how it feels like. It has made me confident that I'll be more responsible for my loved ones now.

I'll be definitely more sensitive to pain. Physical or mental.

Again, I hardly suffered emotional upheaval. And I know that is because of all the well wishes that I have received, knowingly or unknowingly. I feel so loved. I've never felt so loved.

Thanks so much. Feeble words, compared to what I am feeling, but I won't forget this.

From my experiences, I know that you need strength to love. But you also need a lot of strength to accept love. Thanks for making me that strong and faithful, God.

I have faith in love, I do.

लहानपणापासून इंग्रजी माझं पाहिलं प्रेम कि मराठी, ह्या मी कधीच सुरु न केलेल्या वादात मी नेहमीच अडकते! मी इंग्रजी माध्यमातून शिकल्याचा काही मंडळींना राग येतो तर अनेक अति इंग्रजाळलेले प्राणी माझ्या इंग्रजी  संभाषणातील येणाऱ्या मराठी संदर्भांबद्दल माझ्यावर डूख धरतात. खुप त्रिशंकू अवस्था होतो हो माझी! डोक्यात एक तर मराठीत विचार येतात नाहीतर इंग्रजीत( हिंदीचं तर सोडूनच द्या,ती अजून 'परडी में करडू वरड्या' वरचं अडकलेली आहे.) आणि ते विचार जसे ज्या भाषेत येतात तसे मी व्यक्त करते. इंग्रजी कि मराठी हा विचार कधीच येत नाही माझ्या डोक्यात! हि पोस्ट  लिहिताना डोक्यात भराभर मराठी शब्द वाहत होते. एक सेकंद मीच अचंबित झाले, आपल्याला इतके मराठी शब्द येतात? तर असो, गाडी रुळाशिवाय दुसरीकडेच चालली आहे. तर मी हे मराठीत लिहिते आहे, ते मला वाटलं म्हणून. त्यापाठीमाग कोणतीही  अतिरेकी स्वाभिमानी भावना नाही कि हा कोणत्या राजकीय पक्षाच्या प्रचार सभेचा परिणाम नाही! 

..........

लहानपणी मोठ्यांना प्रश्न विचारला कि खुपदा उत्तर मिळायचं, 'मोठी झालीस कि कळेल'. मला वाटायचं की झाले की  इतकी मोठी, अजून किती होऊ? 'म्हशीचं वासरू तिच्या पोटातून बाहेर कसं येतं?' ते 'विरह भावना म्हणजे नक्की काय?' ह्या सर्व प्रश्नाचं उत्तर वेगवेगळ्या वेळी वेगवेगळ्या व्यक्तींकडून हेच मिळायचं. खूप चिडचिड व्हायची. सगळे मोठे मिळून आपल्याविरुद्ध कट करत आहेत असा ठाम समज करून मी देवाच्या फोटो समोर ' महाराज, मला सगळे छळताहेत....' असं भोकाड पसरायचे. 

हा पोरकटपणा संपला आणि जरा मोठी झाले .थोड्या फार वाचनाच्या जोरावर आम्हाला शिंगं फुटली. आपल्याला किती कळत आणि दुसऱ्यांचा बोलणं किती चुकीचं आहे  ह्याबद्दल फालतू अभिमान वगैरे वाटू लागला. काही गोष्ट जर कळाली नाही तर, ' ह्या! हे भंगार आहे!' असा म्हणून गोष्टी बाजूला सारण्याची सवय लागली. मग उगाचंच तावातावात वादविवाद करू लागले, स्वतःची (श्रेष्ठ :P) मतं मांडण्याचा अट्टाहास सुरु झाला. काही महिन्यांपूर्वीपर्यंत हे सगळं करताना आपण ' मेरी झाशी नाही दुंगी' सारखा लढतोय असं वाटायचं! 

ह्या लढ्यामध्ये(?) कित्येकदा ' शहाणी झाली आहेस फार' सारखी बोलणी ते एखादी दणकन बसलेली लाथ, असे सगळे सत्कार झाले. काहीही झालं तरी आपल्याबरोबर किती अन्याय होतोय हे वाटायचं राहिलं नाही.

थोड्या वर्षांनी हा फेज संपला आणि जरा जगात आले. मारक्या म्हशीची शिंगं जर गुळगुळीत झाली आणि बाकीच्यांना इजा कमी होऊ लागली.

काही दिवसांपूर्वी कोणतं तरी (त्या अगोदर खूप वर्षांपूर्वी वाचलेलं) पुस्तक वाचत होते. पुस्तक वाचताना गोष्टींचे नवे नवे अर्थ कळत होते. ' आपण हे पुस्तक ह्या आधी नक्की वाचलंय ना? आधी का कळलं नाही हे?' असं वाटता वाटता जोरात हसत सुटले! आईचं वाक्य आठवलं, 'मोठी झालीस की कळेल.'

हा विचार डोक्यात आल्यानंतरच्या दिवसात जाणवायला लागलं कि अरे हे कित्येक गोष्टींच्या बाबतीत घडतंय! जुनी गाणी, पुस्तकांमधले ( कथेच्या नादात न वाचलेले) विचार, डोक्यावरून उडून गेलेल्या philosophies, बाबांचे त्या त्या वेळी निर्थक वाटलेले सल्ले, असंख्य वेळा खाल्लेली बोलणी, अभ्यासाचा खरा अर्थ, देव अश्या किती तरी गोष्टीबद्दल नवीन नवीन शोध लागत गेले. न्यूटनच्या युरेका मोमेंटसारखी काहीशी अवस्था झाली माझी! 

आनंद ओसरला आणि शांतपणे विचार करू लागले. 'माझंच खरं' च्या नादात इथून पुढं काहीही बाजूला सारण्याचा बावळटपणा करायचा नाही असं ठरवलं.

रोज ठरवून डायरीमध्ये ह्याबद्दल लिहायला सुरवात केली. शांतपणे डोळे, कान, मन उघडं ठेवून आजूबाजूला पाहायला सुरवात केली. सगळी जुनी मतं खोडून टाकली आणि सध्या 'आपली कशाबद्दल ही मतं व्यक्त करण्याची लायकी नाही' असं ठरवलं. वाचन आणि लिखाण भरपूर सुरु केलं. एक  वेगळ्याच प्रकारचा प्रवास सुरु झाला हा! अवघड आहे, पण दररोज रात्री झोपताना कोणतातरी मोठा डोंगर सर करताना वाटतं तसं समाधान वाटतं!

आजकाल हेच सुरु आहे माझं. रोज नव्या गोष्टी पाहते, नव्या गोष्टी वाचते आणि स्वतःवर वेगवेगळे प्रयोग करून बघते. हे करताना आपल्याला काही जमलं कि होतो युरेका डान्स सुरु! ह्यानंतरही कशाबद्दल मतं व्यक्त करण्याची घाई नाही करणार आहे, कारण मला पूर्ण खात्री आहे कि आयुष्यातल्या वेगवेगळ्या वळणांवर मला ह्या सगळ्यांचे अजून नवीन अर्थ उमगत जातील! 

मज्जा येते आहे खूप मित्रांनो, लई भारी आहे हे !

 माझ्या डायरीमधली मी स्वतःसाठी लिहिलेली काही वाक्य तुमच्याबरोबर share करते आणि माझी टकळी बंद करते. आणि हो, तुम्ही ह्या प्रांतात काही पराक्रम केले असतील तर मी आहे ऐकायला!

 तर मी केलेल्या नोंदी:

'Be open and listen to everyone, irrespective of that person's origin, his earning and his intellectual capacity! You unexpectedly might find something priceless.'

' Do not ridicule anything if you don't understand it. If you don't understand it right now, after some time you will. If you never understand it, maybe it is beyond your understanding.'

Finally...

Well, This sure feels nice.
I've always wanted to write a blog but I've been something like a bathroom singer when it comes to writing. I write a lot, but I am the only one who reads it! Being too self-conscious about my writing isn't going to help if I want to share my philosophies and adventures with everyone. I decided to put it down here instead of my journal.
 I read a very gripping book recently. It was interesting but was executed poorly. After reading that, I was like, even though the poor language bothered me but what if that guy hadn't written that book? He has amazing imagination power and he is a good story teller, so why ponder on the language again and again? I shouldn't care about all this stuff too much!
So here I am, writing my first blog!
Aah, Now that I have taken this step I am suddenly blank. What should I write about? Should I follow a particular pattern? Which topic should I choose? Arts, Society,Politics,Feminism? I feel like a mazed kid who is suddenly asked to choose one toy from a huge pile of his favorite ones!
I think I won't decide what to talk about right now. Actually, I won't decide it at all! Let it be spontaneous!
What happens usually with me is that I get overawed by something, think (overthink according to my close friends!)  about it for days until I come up with an answer that satisfys me. After writing down the whole thing and its conclusion in my journal, Fussh! The topic is out of my head!
Now onwards, I am just going to discuss it with you people instead of thinking about it all by my self.
This is going to be interesting!
So everyone, be ready to read some thoughts right out of my head. I promise not to attempt any literary flairs but I am going to honest!
I am going to end this first post with one of my favorite quotes by Ayn Rand which inspires me do what I want everytime I read it,
'People create their own questions because they are afraid to look straight. All you have to do is look straight and see the road, and when you see it, don’t sit looking at it – walk.'