#Pune

Bangalore is heart and Mumbai is mind, but the simplest mention of Pune, brings a smile to my face because of the special place it holds in my heart. 

As with a lot of things, I’ve noticed that my tryst with love usually begins with an abject hatred of something. First impression of Pune was that I had to run away from it and not come even inches close to it. This happened during the time when I was interviewing at Simc. I was disappointed that it was so much like an older Bangalore. I assured two of my friends that I would definitely not take it up because Pune wasn’t Mumbai and I then believed that I had needed the vibe of Mumbai. 

I couldn’t have been more wrong bout Pune. Having lived in Lavale for two blissful years, I think this city will always be home of a different kind. The kind of home that gave me hope in finding good in different  people and an acceptance of myself, thanks to my people.  

As I undertake this bus journey home, from Mumbai. I am fleetingly passing through the lanes of Pune city  and I’m nostalgic like hell. What stands out is our countless trips to FC road on broke days, with friends and not so good friends, celebrity spotting while on a ‘research’ project to study religious tourism and it’s effects, (I’m amazed a senior sent us knowing fully well that we couldn’t have access to Osho, no regrets though cause that was a beautiful day!), a full day Pune Darshan at the end of two years (now I can brag about places in Pune to everyone), of freshers nights that turned to the beginning of common crushes and friendships, of dosa and coffee trips with the  extended best girl gang that one could possibly have.. And of countless as bus rides, to the ‘city’ and back to the hostel, just because. ‘Let’s go through city’ was music to the ears! And yet, the amazing solitude our rooms offered. 

It’s  funny how you comfortable you get with your people. How you video call each other, even if it’s as rare as once in a few months. How connected you are, and how much it makes you feel happy.. Knowing that they’re there. Man. I miss you guys! 

And I  haven’t even talked about the campus fun. Shared secrets, embarrassments, gossip and stories about the people you detest? Sigh. 

I can only hope that meeting all of you in two months, is going to culminate in  an epic extravaganza. 

So long, beauties! 

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Transitions

Bidding adieu sucks but you’ve got to do it because transitions make you grow…

Hi readers,

I must admit that what I actually set out to do while writing the previous post was not to write it. Nah-uh, I actually wanted something to surpass the older posts and instead of coming up with something new, something non poetic, I ended up publishing a half-written draft in my sleep. 

Now that my royally loyal reader HashBrownie has asked me what I’m made of, I think it’s time to take a break from that bubble of procrastination and step out into the sunshine!

Here’s what’s been going on.

Two years of college are coming to an end. That’s bidding adieu to two of the best years of life.

I know it’s not easy to measure yardsticks when you talk of ‘best days’.

Think about having beautiful sunsets as the backdrop of your home, evenings that start off as hot and sultry but if you’re not careful, end up feeling frost bitingly cold.

Think about living in spacious rooms, (with balconies to sip tea in, mind you) with pleasant roomies who just let you be. (Warts, farts, darts et al).

Think about the cold coffee, hot coffee, ice cream sandwich, and the gulab jamuns at the mess.

Think of the people who you surround yourself with. Those who make you smile and laugh and cry at the same time.

Friends who instil a dependency on you that makes you realise you are important. Friends who you thought were loud and bossy but actually ended up loving and living with. Friends who you fell in love with, despite their stupidest idiosyncracies.

Yes. The hills were alive to all these sounds and intuitions. They’ve seen my sweat, my tears, and my joys. It’s honestly satisfying to see that you make a difference.

The belief that Sometimes, actually, most times, your integrity and work will suffice.

Anyway. As I step out of this beautiful place I called home for two years, I know I will always call it home. The home that grew on me and steadied me to a future I didn’t think I could have, I’ve only got the deepest sense of gratitude for this experience. To all the forces of the universe, who made it happen.

My peers are off on a spree of rants about how much they’ll miss this place. Interestingly, I finished this nostalgia in the third semester, with my besties around me. Everyday I’d look out and go ‘Daaamn, I’ve got to move on from this. How does one do that?’

I think I’ve found my answer. You get to transition from your phases in life when you have the hope to find better.

Every time you are down, remember, there’s something that’s been eluding you but it can be yours, with some dedication, effort and time.

Find your homes, not in the four walls of a building but find your homes in people. It’s people that make you want to believe in the best of you. It’s people, who will be there for you. and then you’ll know, goodbyes won’t be hard. They’ll just be something that you have got to do.

Find you home and then you’ll know. Goodbyes won’t be hard. They’ll just be something that you have got to do.

This is me bidding adieu to college life as I had known and loved. 

Here’s to newer and more enriching things in life to all of us.

Life Is Beautiful. Believe It. And You’ll Feel It.

It’s truly been the end of an era.

Adios, SIMC.

The Glass Palace

I’ve been cooped inside my room reading Amitav Ghosh for the first time ever. It is taking me though an intensely riveting journey through the erstwhile little empire of the Burmese to the coastline of Ratnagiri district and then to Malay. Something tells me I need to brush up on my geography to keep pace with all the places. 

I can’t but marvel upon how the events of a person’s life becomes so immaterial in books. Youth, marriage, kids.. All are given but a fleeting mention and suddenly the protagonist is dealing with issues that are rooted deeply in the positions they have scoured themselves. I’m amazed at how this book is written with such a good buildup. I can imagine the greatness of the glass palace and I can almost taste the stench in the air when King Thebaw and his family are forced to endure the commonality of the house at Ratnagiri. Their fortunes as emperors forgotten because of the British ruler’s insecurities. 

There is such a strong element of realism in Ghosh’s work that it’s like interviewing and dissecting the lives of the people at close quarters. With every passing day, my personal opinion on love and familial relationships  are challenged and this work is a manifestation of the many doubts that our minds may possess. We are reduced to the depth or shallowness of our society and our personal inclination. You can always control just how much of yourself are  you willing to invest for the outward world. 

The Glass Palace is perhaps a metaphor of our own warped lives. It’s a boundary or our limitations.