Twenty eleven…through my eyes (….nose, ears, mouth….)

P.S : The post was written and stored sometime in 2011…and got published  much later in 2012.

There are few more months before 11′ gets over…so, this particular post, ideally, comes a lot before time. But, what if the blogger wants to wrap it up real fast and look forward to the coming year with a desire to not just “float around”…but RISE! So she writes with the idea of leaving behind the year and does a quick Recap.

My year ,Twenty Eleven has been a mixed bag that enclosed good amount of diversion. In March 2011, my brother was diagnosed with Multiple vessel disease/CAD. We were completely taken aback with the abruptness of the news. It only called for a lot of stress and panic in the family, followed by a CABG act for my brother. He has done a smooth comeback and we all are happy about it.

Soon after this, losing my Grandma in the month of May has been a real climacteric point for me. She was just so special and as she made an exit, she left behind the fondest memories of us, together. Parkinsonism kills. We have seen her fighting the evil for 12 long years with enough grace and gusto. And finally, she has set herself free! Peace for you dear Thamma.

“Don’t you want to get married ?”
“I don’t think so, Maa”.
” And why?”
” I haven’t found the one, yet.”  This has been the usual chit chat/quiz between me and my mother that always ended with no relevant answer! But it never stopped my mother from asking me the same question again and again, and me telling her exactly what I told her unceasingly!

Both Summer and Winter Funk 2011 at Shiamak Davar Institute for Performing Arts have put up a great show. Like always, it helped me to draw a blank to all my problems and made me dance away to glory.  Contemporary Dance Form at its best 🙂

Twenty Eleven was again a year when we had our much awaited family vacation trip to Kashmir. Beautiful place and possibly the best way we all could mellow out!

With all the ebbs and flows, the year 2011 slowly marched in. I was earnestly trying to figure out a way to make some important decisions. Nothing helped. And precisely then, I reached my milestone and got all my answers right. And I trusted it to be my good omen. All’s well that ends Well 🙂

So, here’s Twenty Eleven, My Way! And I wrap it up with a huge smile and great pleasure.

As I sign off…here’s an untitled poem for my Dearest Grandma to tell her that she is deeply missed…I’m glad that she has reached her resting place to sweet eternity. This one is for you Thamma..

For all the times you gently picked me up,
When I fell down,
For all the times you tied my shoes
And tucked me into bed,
Or needed something
But put me first instead.

For everything we shared,
The dreams, the laughter,
And the tears,
I love you with a Special Love
That deepens every year.

 

Thank God…it’s a Two Right Feet for me.

It was a bright yellow saree with red and golden border, draped with utmost precision. Some light ornaments- little dazzling pieces on neck, forehead and hands. A pair of radiant eyes, deeply lined with kohl looked at the camera. So, what if the photograph print was some 20 years old and thus a bit misty, it sported a little zealous girl with a perfect pose that made the picture, standout.  That was the 4yr old ME after my very first dance performance on stage.

My love for the Stage advanced from a very early age. I was completely in love with that huge wooden platform, the sharp lights, full-mouthed music and powerful audience. A Dance performance for me was never a one day deal. Round the clock practice sessions, trying to pick up the steps as perfectly as it could be, costume selections, stage rehearsals and the countdown to the final day. I remember, how I used to play a particular track, like thousand times and just danced away.

All I need is some good music to shake a leg and whirl with happiness.  It’s amazing, how effortlessly my feet start tapping with any kind of music that I listen to. Music gives me “that” high, the kick- what we call it.

With Shiamak Davar Institute for the Performing Arts, my learning experience reached a new grade. I learned some great dance forms like Western Jazz and Contemporary. And what I just loved there were the techniques with the help of which you have a complete “Soul Dance” for yourself. At SDIPA, we all actually danced like no one was watching! The workshops have indeed changed my life for better.

My biggest inspiration in dance is my mother – my first teacher. I still keep her golden tips in mind while practising the moves and try hard to get those expressions to die for! She has been an outstanding dancer, singer, actor and most impotantly a great human being. Guess, sometimes the genomes do it all…and in my case, I am lucky to have inherited at least, the tremendous love for dancing from my mother.

I believe, each one of us have done a little shimmy, at least once in their lifetime. And I also believe, it’s the best way to release your inhibitions and feel happy. So,if it’s not going right for you and you are feeling kind of jaded…play that number and JUST DANCE it away.

Fleeting relationships

All of us must have witnessed  relationships change, over time.  Why does it happen? Do you have  a pertinent answer on mind?

I feel there are certain stages in every relationship, we share. Some predictable and many unpredictable. Each stage has its own set of rules!  It’s all about how we manage and survive the expectations.

I have seen people constantly telling themselves that their relationship has it ‘right’…and this particular feeling  keeps them going, keeping off from the real being, denying the differences… till the time they meddle with various hard-fought stages.

It’s important to understand that it’s “Us” who change but not the connection. Our priorities change, so does our bias. We take a ride on the emotional cycle. And the cycle guides us to become a completely new person. We, too take part in the modification and choose who, what and how we will be! And then, we often call it a troubled relationship.

The biggest problem arises when the focus changes from “We” to “Me”.  We tend to search for our own identity and get more implicated about who we are and what we want. And the relationship suffers a major drift.

But there are people, overcoming the hard times and preserving the closeness. The simple mantra is to come to terms with the differences and respect the other person’s individuality. And there you are, on to a beautiful bond.

Remember, we all stumble, every one of us.  That’s why it’s a comfort to go hand in hand.  ~Emily Kimbrough

Facebook frenzy

do you have a facebook?

What’s on your mind?

You write few lines on the latest, smart and cool words, that’s all to fetch you ample comments around the world. And you are probably, done for the day 🙂

When I started getting clued in with the most popular social networking website, all I knew was to stab other’s werewolves and vampires and score points. And with time realized, it is also the right place to “score” points with someone you like 🙂 Here, you get connected with your old buddies & new and share stuffs. Gobs of applications to keep yourself busy. Feeds, photos and family. Today, you have it all on FB. And, if you have to find out, who’s dating who or got married recently, just have a look at his or her Display Picture and you’ll know 😉

With time, FB has successfully pulled ahead an important place in our lives. Today, however busy we happen to be, we somehow care to check the updates on our FB account, reply to the pending messages and comment on relevant posts. We rather prefer writing on a friend’s wall than calling up and speaking to that person. We wish birthdays and send virtual e-cakes to our mates. The status messages brief us about what’s happening around us.

So, ideally, this wonder site shrinks the distance between people and gives a “happy” stand to declare our reactions. People tend to release their emotions right here (with or without tags). They can talk about, just ANYTHING, they want to and buck some “thumbs up”….to keep them going!

The “book” has really become our “faces”. Is it a WOW situation? Or are we just considering our emotions, the spirit, too casually, here?

So, What’s On Your Mind, today?

 

My Grandma’s diary.

"my prized possession"

Dad called me like everyday, he did. These were the few last days at Naharlagun for my parents. They had just retired from their respective jobs and were ready to make a shift to Kolkata.

Almost everyday I could hear my Mom complaining, how tricky was it to pack and load things- more than 30 years of ancient pull through. And If I knew my mother well, she would hate to dump even a needle and treasure it for lifetime.

So, that very morning, Dad informed me that he had discovered my Grandma’s diary, while moving out the furnitures and other stuffs. He was thrilled to read it and wanted to share  the treasure trove with me at the soonest. And in no time, he started reading it out for me, over the phone.

Next moment, I found myself anxiously listening to each word, holding the phone close to my ears. I was slowly identifying a completely new person, a part of my Grandma, I had never known. I was filled with pride.

She wrote about her aspirations, her daily chores, people around her, relationships, nature. And what made it extraordinary, was the perfect composition. Her each emotion got translated so beautifully through words that the reader could actually have an image of the writer, living the experiences.

How daintily she described the beauty of Bangladesh (where she stayed at that point in time). The stillness of Padma river and the boat rides. Her first visit to her mother’s place, after she got married. The changes that she witnessed after her marriage. The more I listened to the pieces, read out by Dad, the more I wanted to grab hold of that diary, look at the sheets, run my fingers through the writings and smell through the pages.

Through this diary, I could identify the greatest talent of writing, my Grandmother had. I could also apprehend the eminence of this lady, through her experiences shared. This diary tells a tale of a young girl. And I am happy to have seen this woman, so closely.

Love you, Thamma. Your ‘Diary’ is, today, the most valuable thing, I possess.

P.S: The actual content of the diary is not shared in order to maintain its privacy.

Now, I am a blogger, too.

It is not really the first time that I am writing something. Even, if it is a blog. I wrote some in past, which went to the trashcan, without finding a right place to dwell on. I wrote again. But, didn’t find the pieces great enough to be published. So, they were somehow put in a storage in couple of folders and yes, were mailed to some friends to understand their response. “Publish these…of course” is the common reply I got from all of them. But, guess the particular write ups are well held in reserve in those folders in my system and are too cold and unfriendly to show up.

So, ideally this is my first post and now, I am a blogger,too.