Fearing death in man’s hands
Acres of weed
Turned to dust overnight
This post is written in response to Ronovan Write’s weekly Haiku Challenge. Learn more about it here – https://ronovanwrites.com/2020/10/19/ronovan-writes-weekly-haiku-poetry-prompt-challenge-328-dust-weed/.
This post is in response to Charli Mill’s Flash Fiction Challenge – In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story that expresses the phrase, “scream inside your heart.” To learn more about the challenge, click here.
Kate and Toby celebrated their 12th wedding anniversary last month. While they loved each other, a childless marriage had caused a deep void in their relationship. After two miscarriages in a row, Kate’s safety mattered much more to Toby than his dream of being a father. Her pain was far worse, for it was topped with guilt and fear. After years of silence on the subject, Kate expressed her desire to try again. They argued for hours but Toby finally conceded to her wishes. As he pierced the fertility hormonal injection through her thigh, she screamed inside her heart.
The year 2020 has been especially unlucky for Bollywood. A lot of famous Bollywood personalities died and one of them was a young actor – Sushant Singh Rajput, aged 34. Now, I am not someone who enjoys watching star videos, juicy chat shows, or Bollywood gossip. I knew nothing about Sushant until I read that he committed suicide in his Mumbai residence. All I knew was that he was very handsome, had a vivacious smile, and doled out a few blockbuster hits.
I read the news, said a quick RIP Sushant in my head and moved on. I was looking up a recipe on YouTube when one of his interviews popped up as a must watch video. As I had never heard him speak before, I watched the interview out of curiosity. Within five minutes of watching the interview, I felt a pit in my stomach – his responses to the first three questions made me realize what an extraordinary human being he was – wise, self-aware, intellectual, spiritual, and a man of many talents. His eyes shone with a certain honesty, his demeanor was simple and poised, his answers unpretentious. When asked about must-read books, his response was textbooks, religious scriptures, and coding. When asked to pick his favorites, he chose astronomy over acting, storyline over commercial success, and a trip to NASA over dating a Hollywood celebrity. He even spoke about the essence of vedas and how the scriptures could be one’s guiding light even in this day and age. Soon, I found myself going through several of his interviews – the pit in my stomach growing deeper with each. I learnt about his bucket list some of which were to teach women self-defense, fund a trip for underprivileged school kids to a NASA workshop, dive through the Great Blue Hole, meditate at Mt Kailash. In another interview, he spoke passionately about his tryst with his telescope – he knew as much astronomy as acting, his childhood dream of owning a Blue Maserati which he fulfilled, the deep void with his mother’s demise. In all his interviews, what stood out was the guy who was self-made, whose beliefs were firmly rooted in his humble background. I felt a strange connection with him. The connection you feel in the knowledge that someone is ordinary and regular – just like you.
Sushant was from a small town in Bihar, he cracked India’s toughest entrance exam to bag a seat in the most prestigious engineering college. He quit engineering midway to pursue acting as a career. With no godfather in the industry, he climbed the ladder of success, one step at a time. From dance competitions to TV soaps to Bollywood, his journey was a slow yet methodical pursuit to his dream.
His journey in Bollywood
Just like any other actor, some of his movies were blockbuster hits and some tanked. His choice of movies clearly show that he wasn’t one to care about revenue or popularity. He sought meaningful stories, scripts that would give wings to his talent and nourish his soul.
So what really went wrong?
In the words of the director who launched him, it was the systematic dismantling of a fragile mind that pushed Sushant to the edge. Paid PR slandered him in every possible way – compared his looks to that of a truck driver, called him a schizophrenic, his behavior at parties abrasive and much more – all this without any evidence and right before the release of his movies. Despite hits like Kai Po Che, MS Dhoni and Chichorre, there was no media coverage or spotlight on him. Not a single award for his incredible acting. Instead, the star kids – a product of nepotism, infallible publicity, and zero talent rose to the top, bagged national awards, and dominated the talk shows. The public was complicit too. We sought slapstick no-brainer high- budget drama for recreation. And as a result, the undeserving movies were record breaking successes while movies with beautiful storylines and skilled actors found few takers.
What about the other outsiders?
Many find their footing in the industry – they tremble at the underbelly of the industry but then, eventually see falling in line as the only way forward. Bollywood camps are cliquey too. They welcome the affluent outsiders. Those that are willing to leave their brains and conscience at the doorstep, and giggle and bond with the inner circle are taken in, embraced, and endorsed. This is the chance for the self-proclaimed godfathers to thump their chest and prove their inclusion to the world.
The last straw
On the outside, Sushant had accomplished his dreams, amassed enough for a lifetime, and could have easily quit Bollywood to pursue another passion. But as they say, he was determined to fight for his rights, to find his sweet spot, perhaps a middle ground? The feeling of not being invited, the constant reinforcement of being an outsider, lack of association to one of the many camps in the industry, the nasty attempts by the industry to discredit a small town nobody – because he wasn’t like them, crushed him piecemeal. He was far too intelligent to gel in with the school-dropout stars, and far too talented to give up. However, his crime was heinous – he wanted to maintain his individuality. Despite the fanfare and success, he perhaps felt lonely. The only acclaim that mattered to him was his own fraternity’s and that’s who failed him. Perhaps he fought bravely, night and day struggling to keep his peace but somewhere the lights were too blinding and the struggle too despairing.
There are many more Sushants fighting every day – hoping to shine, struggling to fit in, failing to break into the inner circles and trying all over again. I wonder why Sushant didn’t leave a note behind that would have held the bullies accountable. Maybe he was too kind for that. He’d let Karma take its own course?
I never thought I’d grieve an actor’s death. I hope that he is in a kind place today. I read something that feels more relevant than ever – Unless you consciously include, you will unconsciously exclude.
This post is in response to Charli Mill’s Flash Fiction Challenge. To learn more about the challenge, click here.
She tossed her handbag by the side and sat at the beach staring wide-eyed at the horizon. He sat a few feet away from her, counting the currency notes – his daily wage for cutting wood at a nearby factory.
Two strangers – at far ends of the spectrum of strata, class, and lifestyle – had been making this stop every day for the past four years. The smile they exchanged was their only conversation; the purpose of the stop their only connection. They’d let the roar of the tides, setting sun, and chirp of the home bound birds nourish their souls.
And when this is all over, never will we ever be able to look at life the same way. Tell me, wouldn’t you remember the dark days, feel a shiver in your spine, and feel like its surreal when you:
Catch up with your friends at a coffee shop.
Stare at racks of options in the favorite aisle at a supermarket.
Order that pizza from your favorite deli.
Hit the gym for a group workout session.
Open the door to your househelp.
Visit your family that lives across the city.
Take that Monday morning flight on work.
Share an Uber ride with a stranger.
Take a smoke break with your colleagues.
Chat over lunch with your team.
Hug your best friend at a party.
Shake hands with a client at a business meeting.
Curse a rash driver in a traffic jam.
Chat up a friendly neighbor next door.
Rush to a doctor at an odd hour for that acid reflux.
Bargain the price of veggies at a roadside pushcart.
Take that ride in a crowded metro.
Drive through the city roads at midnight.
Visit a temple for Sunday prayers.
Relish a plate of street food.
Attend a wedding.
Welcome guests home for lunch.
Go for a spa.
Sip beer from a friend’s mug.
Watch a cricket match in a stadium.
Party at your favorite club.
Choose from a restaurant’s menu.
Take your toddler out for a walk.
Wash hands before a meal.
This pandemic has only taught us that life is fragile. The things, people, and moments we come across every day are gifts we have not stopped to thank God for. Here’s hoping that when this is all over, we love a little more and complain a little less. That we fill our lives with gratitude for what we have, compassion for those who are not as privileged, and love for everyone around for being a part of our lives.
March 24th would remain etched in the memory of every Indian for ages to come. With a four-hour notice, the Prime Minister announced a 21-day nationwide lockdown. This was an unprecedented move in the history of India but so was the cause. Coronavirus was widening its gripping on India and we are fighting back to the best of our abilities.
My first reaction to the lockdown was mild panic. I sensed this coming and had stocked up on groceries in time. However, the fear of running out of stock was so difficult to fight, that I bought a couple more packets of even items that I’d never buy. What flowed in the following days was immense gratitude.
As I lay restless in bed, I thought I should chronicle my life during COVID 19.
The Hyundai Creta that I had wanted to buy till some days ago seemed worthless.
The job that seems boring at times, felt precious.
The house seemed a lot bigger.
I learnt how to cook with far fewer dishes.
I didn’t toss the not-so-tasty last bites of food into the bin.
The cacophony of birds felt magical.
Weekends felt like truly earned off-days.
A smiling neighbor became a rare sight.
The bylanes of my neighborhood felt like abandoned blocks of lego.
Realized I could go without junk food.
The Air Purifier showed an unbelievably low digit.
In this tussle between the silence of my surroundings and constant chaos in my mind, I realized that I have so much more than I could ask for. Sitting in the luxury of our homes, let us not complain about the things that are amiss. Let us all take this time to be thankful for being in the company of our loved ones, in a country that is using every trick in its sleeve – scientific and metaphysical to ward off this pandemic.
Such a funny thing the mirror is. A shiny piece of glass neatly bordered by polished wooden frame on all four sides. The same glass that with its rough unruly edges once scarred her neck in a domestic accident. And here in this wooden frame, the mirror was like a tigress in a cage. Safe, docile, powerless. It was piece of fine artifact complementing the teak-wood furniture in the room.
It was a rather humid August evening. With a tea tree mask on her face, she applied a hot pink nail paint on her toe nails with single-pointed concentration. Once she peeled off the mask, and looked into the mirror as she dabbed her face with a towel, what she saw didn’t appeal to her. A face still dull and greasy like it actively soaked all the humidity from its surroundings. Her hair was loosely tied into a ponytail whose ends were frizzy and lackluster like scorched hay.
A walk toward the mirror for a closer look only confirmed her fears. Her eyes were pale, cheeks dug in and tiny whiskers grew on her upper lip. What was once a pretty face oozing with pride and confidence was now scared of its reflection in the mirror.
That there was a time when she obsessively admired her dreamy kohl eyes, well defined cheekbones, and flawless skin felt like a lie. She sat there in what seemed like forever wondering what had changed and why. She gazed at the photo frames on the wall and her mother’s words came striking down like lightning – Our face is an index of the mind.
She was trying desperately to fix things on the outside when it was the mind that needed a makeover.
Today is my birthday and it is different from all others thus far.
I woke up not to a ringing cellphone or a birthday text but to a tear drop that was trickling slowly down my cheek before it fell flat on my bed sheet. My husband was fast asleep and I wide awake. I rolled restlessly in bed which woke him up, just in time for him to set off to an important business meeting. Through the mullions of the window, I saw a dusty yellow sky and rain pour incessantly. My mood plunged further and I fought hard to stifle my cry. Before I knew, I was weeping inconsolably. The husband tried to find out why but was interrupted by the calls of his colleague who honked non-stop signalling urgency of the upcoming meeting.
I had never felt this way before and felt helpless not knowing if this was abnormal. I decided to ring my sister and tell her about it. While I rambled about my feelings not knowing how to put them into words, she cut me short as she nonchalantly mentioned the words Birthday Blues. Really? I had no clue such a phenomenon existed. My first emotion was that of relief. I was relieved to know that I was still normal. Soon, my sadness turned into curiosity to know more about this phenomenon I was so blissfully unaware of.
Apparently, Birthday Blues could be because of external reasons such as the pressure of the quantum of celebration and doing something special or because of internalizing too much. In my case, it was the latter.
After telling me more about it, she prodded deep enough until she made me trace the root of the problem. It was an hour before I pinned it down to the feeling of being stuck in life. Nothing remarkable had happened from the previous birthday to this one. I had set vague milestones which I hadn’t come close to achieving. Life seemed to have reached a standstill and I didn’t know how to break out of the self-imposed shackles. But little did I know that this realization would weigh me down so much.
The sister therapy pulled me out of my misery and shone the much needed birthday wisdom. I realized that not only was I being too hard on myself but I was also dismissive of the little great things that had happened over the year. I had made my husband feel guilty and worried, and had blamed the world for my situation.
To all those who have ever felt this way, here’s my two cents. Even if we don’t achieve certain milestones every year, we most certainly evolve in ways big or small. Let’s not make birthday a report card of accomplishments but a day of mindful contemplation of the people and things that make life worthwhile, of moments that make us smile, and of the promise to love ourselves no matter what!
Jodhpur and Jaisalmer are the crown jewels of the royal state of Rajasthan. The cities have come to strike a fine balance between preserving their rustic charm and adapting to the demands of travelers from across the globe. One must visit these cities for the lofty forts, intricate architecture, and ancient tales that take you back in time. So, here we go!
How to get there: Both cities are well connected from Delhi by bus and train. The nearest airport is in Jodhpur.
Accommodation: Being very popular travel destination among Indian and international travelers, there are a host of cool hostels, airbnbs, and budget to boutique hotels.
Jodhpur: We stayed at Moustache, a popular hostel across Rajasthan. Most attractions are accessible by a quick tuk-tuk ride from the hostel. If you are looking for some place classy, try Pal Haveli.
Jaisalmer: We stayed at The Golden House, a quaint hotel located 10 mins away from the fort. There are also plenty of haveli-turned-hotels available inside the fort. Desert Boys Guest House (inside the fort) has tastefully done rooms, a beautiful rooftop restaurant with excellent views.
Day 1: The Gorgeous Fort
We started the day with some lip smacking local breakfast, Dal Puri at a roadside pushcart. The dish is inimitable and surprisingly finds no mention in most travel guides but your trip to Jodhpur is incomplete without gorging on this local breakfast delicacy. After a hearty meal, we headed straight to Mehrangarh fort.
My Two Cents: If you wish to truly enjoy your time at the fort, choose the audio tour available in the premises. The storytelling is impeccable, descriptive, and truly adds value to the time spent at the fort. The fort is awe-inspiring and has a very interesting history to its credit. The well stocked galleries in the fort’s museum transport you back to the days of the Rajput dynasty.
After spending a satisfactory four hours at the fort, we went to Jaswant Thada, a short walk from the fort . The white marble cenotaph was built by a former king in memory of his father and also serves as the cremation ground for the royal family of Marwar. The main hall displays portraits of the rulers and Maharajas of Jodhpur.
The numerous gazebos, a placid lake by the periphery that offers cool breeze, and the lush green lawns make the complex a compelling place if you are looking to spend some quiet time.
With great food and trippy music, we spent the evening at Baari, the cafe at our hostel.
Day 2: The Day of the Blue City
We started our day just like the locals do, with Mirchi Vadas and Jalebi and set out for Ummaid Bhawan Palace. Perched on top of a hill and slightly away from the city, the palace is divided into three parts: A hotel (accessible if you have the coin!), a museum accessible to all, and the Royal family’s residence. The architecture of the palace is great but the museum not so much. I recommend visiting only if you must check it off your list.
We stopped for lunch at Indique, a fine dine restaurant at Hotel Pal Haveli. The place offers not just great food but also magnificent views of the fort. For the next couple of hours, we explored the bazaar in the clock tower area.
You can shop for bangles, Indigo and tie and dye apparel, and handicrafts here
At 4 pm, we joined our fellow hostelers at Chandpole for the Blue City walking tour. For the next couple of hours, we explored the narrow alleys of the old city painted in a thick coat of Indigo color. Legend has it that the Maharaja of Jodhpur invited Brahmins to reside in the city to draw from their wisdom and prosperity. The Brahmins who were believers of Lord Shiva (aka Neelkanth or the one with a Blue Throat) painted their houses blue symbolically. Many other locals have a different story to tell. They say limestone mixed with Indigo gives the blue color to the walls and also helps reflect heat during summers.
Whichever story is to be believed, Blue City is a land of secrets that not many explore fully well. You can expect the most unexpected here. A walk beyond the obvious blue houses into the winding alleys leads you to ornate gates, beautiful lakes, and an incredible sunset-point hill, the city’s best kept secret. While azans of the mosque and temple bells ring gently in a distance, the horizon turns pink as the sun sets over the blue city. This was certainly one of the best sunsets I’d ever seen.
With that indelible memory of the blue city tour, we walked to Dylan’s cafe which offers good food, wonderful hospitality, and pretty views of the fort at night. We also tried the Makhaniya Lassi at Mishrilal and the other famous food joints at Sadar Bazaar.
My Two Cents: Blue City is a walled city gated by the Iron Gates (Pols). Take help from the locals and lose yourself in its alleys. Brace yourself for all things wonderful that will come your way.
Day 3: A ride through the rural Rajasthan
We hopped on a 5-hour bus journey to Jaisalmer and reached the golden city by 1 pm. After a wholesome Rajasthani thali at Zaika, we headed straight to the desert camp at Sam (pronounced Sum) Sand Dunes. The scorching sun quickly gave way to cool desert breeze and the desert gave us the chills. The campsite hosted a cultural program followed by bonfire, dinner, drinks and DJ.
My Two Cents: Avoid staying overnight at the camps. The itinerary is very touristy and not enjoyable as such. Instead drive to Thar at Sunrise/Sunset to experience the camel and jeep safari which are both worthwhile. There are plenty of tour agencies in the city that offer this service.
Day 4: Camel Safari and Longewala
We left for a camel ride on the dunes to watch the sun rise. The sight was breathtaking and so was our chat with our septuagenarian herder who told us he’d leave his home at 3:30 am each day on a three-hour camel ride to reach the camps and earn his daily bread through camel safaris. This and much more of what he said left us grateful and humbled in equal parts.
After breakfast, we checked out of the camp and went to the city where we checked into our hotel. In the afternoon, we rode to Longewala, a border town in Thar desert which is a two-hour drive from the city. We visited the Tanot Mata temple enroute which legend says guarded the Indian soldiers during the Longewala battle with Pakistan. If legend is to be believed, none of the bombs dropped in the temple area exploded leaving it completely unharmed by the enemy.
Our next stop was the Longewala war memorial. The audio visual movie is a chilling reminder of the lesser known battle of Longewala.
The drive to Longewala and back is eerily scenic. With golden dunes on either sides and a narrow strip of tar leading the way, the journey is a muted canvas ready to be painted with imagination.
Day 5: The Living Fort
For breakfast, we gorged on delectable dhoklas, kachoris, and jalebis at Bhatia’s in one of the bylanes outside the fort.
This was the first time we saw a living fort. ‘Jaisal’ refers to the Raja Jaisal who laid the foundation stone for the fort, and ‘Mer’ means ‘Sun’ as the fort is in a tawny lion color sandstone which glistens like the Sun.
A local guide took us on a two-hour tour of the fort where we saw the palace, museum, prominent temples and learnt about the history of the fort. Ensure that the tour guide carries a government authorized card because there are many scammers claiming to be tour guides. Talking to the locals is the best way to learn the secrets of the fort. They are friendly, happy to chat and have a great deal of information to share.
We spent the afternoon exploring the alleys and chatting up the artisans. We stopped for lunch at Cafe Panorama from where the views were great, food average.
We walked past many more narrow alleys to reach Patwaon ki Haveli. This is a self contained township of sorts outside the fort. The complex consists of five havelis or mansions which are a visual delight. It is said to have been built by a rich brocade merchant of the times for his five sons.
My Two Cents: The ticket to each haveli is charged separately. Visiting one would give you a fair idea of how the other are. Also, there is no need to hire a tour guide here.
We went to Gadisar lake for a boat ride right in time for the sunset. Boating in placid waters and watching flocks of home-bound birds crisscrossing a pink sky was breathtaking. The sun receded slowly into the horizon as we paddled away far into the lake.
We made a wise choice of celebrating New Year’s eve at the fort as opposed to the desert camps. While most cafes were shut and the fort was eerily quiet, we found our spot at the beautiful Jaisal Italy cafe. With soothing music, and laid back seating with views of the dimly lit fort, we enjoyed fireworks in the company of a handful of other tourists and rang in the new year.
This marked the end of our trip.
Today is World Mental Health Day, a day which gained popularity of late. Many of us still find talking about mental health a taboo. We’d be pained to know if our dear ones were diagnosed with a physical illness, but would we sympathize in equal measure if they were diagnosed with clinical depression? Recently, a friend of mine told me about the therapy she was undergoing after a failed relationship. Her sessions pointed at several incidents right from her childhood to the present that led to the mental blockages and revealed that the recent heartbreak was only a trigger that opened the floodgates. Her mental blockage materialized in the form of many physical illnesses such as neurological imbalance, palpitation, anxiety attacks, acid reflux to name a few. I saw her in pain but was firm that the whole idea of therapy is a scam. I belittled her situation to a state of mind. What could a psychiatrist tell that you do not know already.
It was only when I found myself being sucked into a warp of low sickly feelings that I realized that depression was for real. What I also realized was that depression does not necessarily mean that you feel suicidal; frequent bouts of feeling empty is also a form of depression and needs attention. I penned down my feelings many times but trashed the story for the fear of being judged. So, why is it that I decided to write today. One, when I read about Deepika Padukone battling depression and talk about it so candidly, it gave me comfort and the strength to own up and by way of this write up, I hope to comfort somebody along the way. Secondly, I have gained control of my situation and looking back at this will be a positive reminiscence of how I overcame a difficult phase in life.
From one who loved to be outdoors, I went to loving solitude. I saw only fluff all around and felt repulsion towards people very easily. My self-confidence plummeted, and my emotions ran amuck. Every other day, I would feel my heart sink, stomach churn, and tears well up, all without any obvious reason or trigger. I became overly sensitive, unreasonably angry, unrestrainedly emotional and often found myself blaming people for their behavior. I saw this pattern repeat everywhere – at work, home, friends, and social groups.
It was after months of contemplation, informal counseling, and meditation that I tracked the issue down to the grassroots. I kept a tab of my behavioral patterns and dived deep to find their plausible reasons. This helped me to list down the corrective course of action and consciously work on taking control of my mind.
It was a constant battle and it tired me often. In the beginning, the days I felt a void certainly outnumbered the days I felt moderately happy. But things changed for the better with much constant effort.
So, to all those reading this, here’s what I have to say:
Mind is a funny thing. Be its master and it will take you places. Let it take over and you’ll be all over the place.
An Enigmatic Life 