Dream. Write. Share.


November 2016

Thank You Note

I wrote a post called ‘Weird Things’ two days back, and almost everyone who read it told me never to let go of 9 and 11, values I cherish and incorporate in my life. For those who missed the previous post, here you are: 

9. Gratitude is too often overlooked, because we feel that the world owes us what we have. Nobody owes us anything. This isn’t a business; it’s definitely not give-or-take, nor can it be an individualistic game. (…)
11. No matter where I go, I remain a believer: in beautiful things, in comforting words, in worthwhile moments, in poetry, and most importantly, in myself.

In the spirit of living those values, today, I wish to express my gratitude to those who shaped me without realising, without meaning to, without trying too hard, just by being present and sharing a part of you. I call you ‘my kids’, and my kids you’ll always be. Some of you spent so much time in my company, we went through trials and tribulations together, and somehow, we connected and became part of each other’s lives.  

Here’s to the one who thanked God in his winning speech, just like he intended to (Thank you for encouraging me to do what I love best).
Here’s to the one who cringed when I told him his essay was “not convincing enough” and he did his best to impress me with what he wrote from then on (Thank you for your sarcasm which always borders on cynicism).
Here’s to the one who metamorphosed throughout the years and who (accidentally?) fell in love with literature (Thank you for always standing by, in fun and in need).
Here’s to the one who trusted me enough to share his secrets, knowing I wouldn’t judge (Thank you for believing).
Here’s to the one who had to wipe his brow every time I looked at him (Thank you for coming out of your shell).
Here’s to the one who would tell me Everything, from what she had for breakfast to how she was feeling (Thank you for being a sushi).
Here’s to the one who was so shy in the beginning and then blossomed and couldn’t stop talking (Thank you for the heartwarming conversations).
Here’s to the one who developed a whole theory about reincarnation and the circle of life (Thank you for spreading light).
Here’s to the one who couldn’t pronounce ‘melancholy’ and sent me into peals of laughter (Thank you for those stolen moments).
Here’s to the one who invented theories and arguments in literature and then smiled sheepishly (Thank you for your heart of gold).
Here’s to the one who always made a grand entry and had a joke repertoire (Thank you for your ‘joie de vivre’).
Here’s to the one who once animated a discussion on gender issues (Thank you for being opinionated).
Here’s to the one who was amazed by the magic of Rubik’s cubes (Thank you for being yourself, always).

Here’s to you.
To all of you who enjoyed when I read whole plays / novels to you,
All of you who painted walls with me, who wrote and rewrote on them (with some massacres),
All of you who cracked terrible (yet funny) jokes,
Who participated in debates, who made silly mistakes,
To all of you who contributed to making me love teaching,

I’ve watched you grow up and I have to admit it’s weird sometimes to hear you talk about work, and going through life like a responsible adult but it’s also immensely satisfying to see where you’ve reached. I’m proud of you, each and every one of you, whether you were here for a year or six/seven (I’ve lost count; a rollercoaster ride!) eventful ones. We made discoveries together, some of you shed tears (and how!), and we collected so many memories – having lunch, parties, interventions (!), brainstorming sessions, watching horror movies, loving and hating texts… it has been full of emotions so far and I hope the journey keeps being so entertaining.

 I have taught you (or tried to) many things, and I hope that outside of academics, you have all learnt at least one life lesson that you will carry with you. In return, you have taught me the beauty of innocence, of purity of minds, and I feel so grateful to have known such genuine souls.

 My wish for you is that you do get to explore the world, read 100 books in a year, maintain relationships, create better realities, and accomplish every single thing that you wrote on the ‘Before I Die’ wall.  

Thank you for the worthwhile moments. Thank you for the connections.
Thank you for the memories.


Under the Rain

We heard the wind chime, and the bells chimed along.

We found shapes in clouds, found oddities,
And a million possibilities.

He walked beside me, yet he was all around,
Overwhelmed, I could not stay rooted to the ground;
He knew it, I knew it too: to each other were we already bound.

I once called him my sun
‘Cause he brightened the planets –
When he once walked with me under the rain,
Just before the showers gathered all that I had gained.

We met again, under the rain;
To us, it seemed like a drizzle
So much our hearts would burn and sizzle,
Hidden from sight, hidden from pain,
These hidden meanings were anything but plain.

He looked over, figuring out the mystery,
Eyes narrowed, wondering why everything was glittery.
It’s the rain, I assured him, it smacks of a conspiracy.
Don’t reason it out, we’re framed to a greater degree.
Walk, let the rain fall over me:
I’d rather hide you, let the rain confound me.

He pried open my secrets, reminded me of how we met.
Suddenly the torrent sounded like a litany,
The storm, the raindrops, unravelled in a flurry.
He spoke, softly amidst the mist and dew,
The rain sprinkled upon us, delectably,
No longer am I lost, said he, now that I have found you,
And now we are one, and now my world is you.


Weird things.

“People think dreams aren’t real just because they aren’t made of matter, of particles. Dreams are real. But they are made of viewpoints, of images, of memories and puns and lost hopes.” Neil Gaiman’s words are haunting me today. Should I have called this ’13 Random Thoughts – Part 2’? I wonder. I have been wondering a lot lately. And weird things have been popping up…

  1. Once upon a time, I realised that clouds were not like cotton candy, were not fluffy, and I couldn’t float on them.
  2. And then I started to wonder… what if… what if there were such things as parallel universes? What if at this exact moment, when I’m typing this, another Me is flying to a country I (present me, that is) never knew existed? The other Me would be unveiling the conspiracies of cartographers (thank you, Mr. Stoppard!) while I keep losing myself in a myriad of words. I do hope my parallel self is as charming as I am, though. Just saying.
  3. I do not know if I believe in luck – an ephemeral temptress (read: mistress) who seems to always glide among the shadows, and remains unreachable, unlovable. Frustratingly so! Does not believing in something make it less real?
  4. People are always in a hurry. Where are you going? Which train (bus, if you’re in Mauritius) do you need to catch? And would calamity really befall if you missed it? Why can’t you be a few minutes late? If you can’t, why didn’t you leave earlier? I’m starting to compile a list of things that bother me. Watch this space for more.
  5. Chess aesthetics are a paradox or a weird combination of harmony, symmetry, and complication.
  6. One of my favourite words is ‘ethereal’. It evokes so many things in my mind, like an otherworldly scent of cherry blossoms and rainbows, things that make me happy, and a curious child. Language is mesmerising.
  7. Questions keep swinging across the playfield in my head, a tennis match of sorts, or rather, a Quidditch match of sorts. I am, for obvious reasons, the Seeker.
  8. I like to compartmentalise my thoughts. I open one drawer, read the notes, and then lock them up for another day. I wonder if I could compartmentalise the people I come across – preferably not in drawers, but there are some I would love to lock away for safeguarding, and some I would just love to lock out of my life forever.
  9. Gratitude is too often overlooked, because we feel that the world owes us what we have. Nobody owes us anything. This isn’t a business; it’s definitely not give-or-take, nor can it be an individualistic game. Something to try (do it, why try?): The gratitude jar: fill it up with positive things that happened to you over the year, and read them all on New Year’s eve, or anytime you feel like the entire weight of the world is on your shoulders.
  10. I cannot decide whether I’m sad or happy sometimes: can I be both, or is there a middle ground where I sit cross-legged and contemplate the mysteries that surround me? I don’t know, but it’s oddly calming. In the words of Tennessee Williams, “If I got rid of my demons, I’d lose my angels.”
  11. No matter where I go, I remain a believer: in beautiful things, in comforting words, in worthwhile moments, in poetry, and most importantly, in myself.
  12. There are some people who walk about, and it feels like it’s always raining on them – not just any kind of ordinary or torrential rain, but dimly-lit showers reminding one of joy bursting through an evening sky…
  13. It doesn’t take much to create beautiful chaos. It really doesn’t.

 I’ve read that people have on average 70,000 thoughts per day. I wonder how many you had while reading these. This was supposed to be a fun post, but I guess it’s just one of those days.

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