Category Archives: Letters to the Void

So many things i just want to write and forget.

How I met you, my love!

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Its been 25 weeks this Tuesday, since you and me connected. You know of my connection with you more than anyone else in this world, though I thought it might be interesting to tell you how I met you the first day.

Your dad and I had just returned from our much awaited vacation in Monaco and south of France in the first week of september. I was tired and sick probably from being on such a long and exerting road trip, but your dad thought differently, he knew you before I had the chance to find out. ūüôā

Anyhow days turned to weeks and I saw you on my doctor’s screen couple of times, but you were nothing but a dot on a dark screen. I couldn’t believe some thing that non-existent was making me throw up so much, so all I felt was nausea and the need to get back to my feet.

Then came the week 12 and finally I saw you, though still so small, you were clear as a bright summer day. I watched in disbelief as you moved your arms around with the grace of a dancer and flipped like you were at it for years…

You and I, at week 18.

You and I, at week 18.

All my fears, my discomforts, my sickness washed away that day, I knew at that moment what love at first sight meant. I want you to know that I am counting each day like I have never done before,  till I hold you in my arms. I miss you every day.

ich bin nicht viel kl√ľger!

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My father made some interesting choices in our upbringing. One of them was his most unpopular decision of sending us to government schools. You see, my father was bent on making sure that we studied in our mother tongue however after trying all the then popular and fancy private institutes, he realized that no matter how much one paid, they only taught in English medium. So, to our annoyance, he decided to discard them all and sent us to the lowly government ones.

I think we were so upset with his decision that we completely overlooked the fact, that over the years, he worked hard for becoming the PTA president. He changed the face of the school, even if it costed him his own dime. Infrastructure was improved. My father’s political connections meant, that all the best teachers in the state were transferred to the one we belonged. All this work meant we were under constant limelight, which made me resent him even more.

Any how we survived the high school, but as I entered the wild world of university, I knew I was at a clear disadvantage as I couldn’t speak or understand fluent English. Well, guess what, right then I hated my dad some more!

LanguagePartners5I was so determined to break free of his hold that I gave up every thing he stood for. I cut my hair (I am a Sikh), taught myself English and rarely spoke in my mother tongue anymore. Kind of sad, isn’t it?Well, I felt so proud that I actually thought a linguistic ability or lack of one for that matter, was the indicator of ones mental caliber.

Over decade of being that way, couple of years ago, I moved to Germany, where I was mute again. I watched in silence¬†as a lady at Ausl√§nderamt spoke to me slowly as if not knowing German had proved how stupid I really was. In my travels across Europe, I have met some extraordinary people¬†who couldn’t speak a¬†word of English and yet had legends to share.

Since that day in immigration office, I have been putting serious efforts in appreciating both my father and my sweet mother tongue every single day. Today, I sit here knowing that my skill of being able to speak and understand five languages does not prove that I am wiser than I was yesterday, nor that being less than perfect in any one of them would make me stupid in anyway .

Being thirty something….

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I turned 31 this 7th. I can’t claim to have embraced the fact¬†with¬†whole my heart. Weeks leading up to the date¬†were filled¬†with dread, depression and unexplained complaints.¬†While some of it could be contributed towards events occurring around me, but most of it was caused by the terror that had set deep within. ¬†Suddenly I was very aware of the time slipping away with so much yet to be done.

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I couldn’t keep calm till I decided to do something different this year. Instead of the usual gift of books this year I decided to give myself 30 days of anti-procrastination campaign. I started on 8th of this month and I have still a few days to go and I can’t believe how much I have done in past few days.

I sat down and made a list of things that seem to be¬†weighing my down. Like unfinished art¬†works, projects around the house, Promised portraits that are yet to be delivered, My “Master the ¬†German” dream and phone calls that I have dreaded to make. ¬†The list goes on and on. ¬†My days seem to have taken a new life as I sit and make plan for the things to be done the next day. Routines are getting established as each task is seamlessly finding its way in my things-to-do that day.

I am¬†writing this down here so that I never forget, how happy I seem to be getting, in “being thirty something”¬†with each passing day.

**only¬†words are mine, image is thankfully borrowed from “http://www.whatwordsdoyouwear.com/2010/07/01/write-to-do-lists/”

Grieving heart!

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angel-of-grief1Earlier this week ¬†body of an infant was found in the back alley in our neighborhood. We live in a very calm n safe city, I couldn’t believe that anyone here was capable of such horrific act. it left me dumbfounded and I couldn’t get the baby out of my head the whole day.

May be I felt specially sensitive because those days my closest Friend’s new born was struggling for her life. She was born premature with a faulty heart. That little angel fought bravely for couple of weeks but gave in day before yesterday. And here I am like a fool, I can’t stop the tears from flowing. I am not a parent and yet I can’t seem to be able to detach myself from the pain of losing a child.

My heart is filled with anguish for the people who can throw away the tiny miracle of life on a dirty street like trash!

My heart can’t stop mourning for the loss of a mother who didn’t get to take her baby home!!

I firmly believe in GOD, I was raised to believe in God’s will. But for the first time in a long time I couldn’t seem to figure out his reasons and just when I thought of reminding him on how lousy a job he is doing down here, story of Bhishma Pitamah popped into my head. It felt like a bucket of ice cold water on my face. While our hearts will continue grieving for those innocent souls, I do believe now that those fallen angels are finally back home.

**only words are mine image is thankfully borrowed from http://www.counsellingtutor.com/the-4-tasks-of-greiving/

Presence of Mind!

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What can I say, my mind has a mind of its own!

It’s faster than the speed of light and more active than a nuclear reactor!!

The moment I touch the first dish or pick a shirt to fold, it leaves me before I can know. It runs wild with the wind and is harder to tame than a horse. I go through my day like a zombie, never knowing what is it that I am doing, what has been done and what I am stepping into next, for my thinking companion is never around.

In my head I have stories forming every minute and I am contemplating a theory or two all the time. It would have been great if I would have chosen writing as a profession, in which case I am sure I would have gone blank in the matter of seconds, but in daily life that I lead and the work I do, it is important that I pay attention to smallest of details. I mean, I would love to have a day when I didn’t have to redress cause I had it on the other way round!

After years of double checking every thing I do, I am now beginning to work on my presence of mind and I can safely say from my last few days experience, it is the hardest thing I have ever done but equally rewarding too. For instance, today for the first time I noticed the beautiful flowers and honey bees on the trail I run on every  day. Even if the control was only for few seconds and the bees took me soon away again into the thoughts of a book I had read by Agatha Christie and from there to a far away land of crime and thriller, I felt alive in those seconds. I soaked in the scarce European sun,  smiled at the beautiful blue sky and felt the cool breeze on my face.

I wish I can live every minute of my life like this. The other day I wrote about wanting a life of dependability. For me presence of mind is first step in being dependable. So, no matter how long it takes  I will tame this wild mind of mine.

Hee haw…

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**Only text is mine Image is thankfully borrowed from http://www.creativitypost.com/philosophy/hold_your_horses_jonah_lehrer_steps_towards_the_science_of_creativity

Disposable!

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Apart from my usual photography work,  I am currently working on a collection of very short stories that I hope to get published in near future. Recently, I seemed to have run out of ideas for any more such short narrations and that reminded me of my almost forgotten blog.

As I went through what I had written earlier, I saw a missing theme, a much needed central idea for me to come up with those 100 stories that I want in this book. I wanted to write it here before I forget it since this blog has been my special place.

“Our Shelves, Our Markets, Our Lives are filled with Disposable commodities.

Our choices are becoming smart, we even use smarter objects every day. Amidst all this fast paced, ever changing life, our dimensions of human connection or “Love” per se, has changed.

We are today a smart generation with disposable relations, with too many objects and too few emotions, both equally at display on a Facebook home page.”

 

Who’s laughing now!

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Who so ever said, “Life’s Hard”, was way off!

Life to me, seems like this flexible thing, ever-changing under the pressure of our dreams, hopes and sometimes under sheer will.

What it although is, a Sarcastic B**** with a dry wit. It doesn’t complain against our efforts of constantly changing its course, It awaits, almost silently, till the moment you have it all exactly how you once wished ¬†it to be and then gloats watching you suffer and wishing for the things to be different again.

 

Grown ups!

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In my younger years, I couldnt wait to grow up!

Grown ups knew every thing!

They were not afraid of anyone and neither did they lie!

Grown ups didn’t make mistakes and best of all they didn’t have to do the homework!

Truth ironically, turned out to be way different than I thought (just like most things!).

Grown ups don’t have it easy in any thing!

Sure they don’t have to worry about pety homework, but their entire life is defined by the work they have to do most part of their day.¬†They constantly lie. They make mistakes that probably have higher impacts then they themselves are aware of and without even knowing they are creating a new world for us every single day.

Take parents for example, I have cribbed for years for the mistakes my parents have made in bringing me up, from the frailty of my body to the constant emotional upheaval of my mind. The choices I have made or basically who I am, is impacted so much by who my parents are.

Aren’t parents suppose to know it all?

Yet, they and yes, I do mean all of them (good or bad) scar their children for life. Some with the abuses the child didn’t deserve, others ¬†with love that child got without working hard.

But then, whatever I am today, it is because of where I have been and who have raised me. All my scares, good  or bad, make me an individual. Individual, my parents are proud of.

Now a days every thing I do, I keep in mind, its My job, to let go of  things that pull me down and polish the goodness my elders have worked so hard to instill in me.

So if I could go back in time, I would give my parents a break from all the silly complaints and tell them, what a fine job they have done in raising us all. (I do it now as often as I can)

Life’s ways!

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Couple of years ago, I took the low road and succumbed to the easy way out.

We all do that, on day to day basis, don’t we? and mostly there is no harm done. However in my case, I made my situation worse and took another friend down along with me. While the experience itself was painful, shattering and stained with lots of guilty tears, It helped me shape into who I am today and that ways it ended well for me. But in the process I lost a friend and ¬†felt really bad for hurting a nice soul.

No matter how hard I tried to make the mends, it always resulted in exchange of harsh words. Some how this person was capable of bringing the worst out of me. I could lash out with insults I never knew existed and in result ended up being wounded even more. I was somehow convinced that I was the bad one and the other person was the victim here.

Till about last year, after another failed attempt at reconciliation, I took a step back and finally decided to let it all go. May be I was not the only one to be blamed and may be not every bridge can be mended again. I vowed to not make things any worse and prayed every day for the strength to carry on.

While it worked for me, it seems this dear friend of mine is still not able to let go. Every couple of months I get insults swinged at me, and unlike in the past, I am easily able to dodge. ¬†I don’t feel the need to prove a point or hurt back any more.

Just the other day I got another note, wishing for me to burn in Hell and So intense was the need of this person to hurt me hard, that the poor soul couldn’t even frame the words right. I always used to get so hurt reading the words addressed to me that no decent person deserves to hear, and today all I feel is compassion for the person, who must be so overwhelmed with feelings that couldn’t even wait to get the note straight.

Every day lived, especially the ones I feel were unnecessarily hard, seem to bring out the best in me. Every minute, I am given a choice to take it easy or work hard for all its worth and I try not to forget the fallen moments and work hard to make it count, even if, its just for a day.

Walking towards a Dream!

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Not so long ago, after years of being afraid, busy, lazy and a lot more, I finally ran out of excuses. I wasn’t getting any younger and I finally did not have any reason to not do what I thought, I always wanted to do. Its a scary feeling, when you don’t have any reason to hide behind, anyone to blame, for not chasing your dreams. ¬†So here I am, after long sulking, I finally gave in and came up with Loud Frame.

Loud Frame, is a Digital Art Studio, where I am currently working and producing photographic art for the collectors¬†across¬†the globe. ¬†Since its just a¬†beginning, I will fine tune the details later (the website, the FB page and more), right this moment I just want to share the news with the bunch of nicest people I have (actually never met!) ever known. There have been moments when my blogging buddies have been more real than the real world out there…

PS. – If any of you are ever interested in any of the work, Please don’t forget to ask for Family discount!