On Reading Twice

 I finished Mitch Albom's Twice a few days ago and I'm still carrying it around, the way you carry around a conversation you didn't get to finish with someone.

Albom has a trick he's used since Tuesdays with Morrie, where a small phrase gets repeated until it stops being a sentence and starts being a weight you hold. This time it's "suspicion and belief cannot share the same bed." I highlighted it the first time it showed up on page 73, half amused because it sounded like something a grandfather says at a wedding. By the time it comes back near the end, on page 147, it's not amusing anymore. It's the whole marriage, compressed.

I read fast, mostly at night, and I noticed I was highlighting two different kinds of lines. One kind is the aphorism, built to be underlined, the sort of line you can lift and put on a slide. "You can't go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending." That's the very first highlight in the book, on page 7, before the story even starts moving, and it tells you exactly what kind of book this is going to be. Albom writes sentences that want to be quoted. I don't hold that against him. It's a skill, even if it occasionally shows its seams.

The other kind of line is the one that got me more, and it's the kind nobody quotes. A goat bleating at noon in a village. A boy noticing his mother's hands. The detail about the mother, the recurring list of "things my mother said she loved about me," ticking upward through the book like a countdown that's actually a count-up. Your laugh. The way you remember every little thing that happened. The way you pray. By the time you reach eleven on that list, you're not reading about someone else's mother anymore.

The father and son scene near page 172 wrecked me a little. "I want to say how much I love you. And if anyone didn't do a good job, it was me." That's such an unremarkable way to say something enormous, and I think that's deliberate. The big regrets in this book don't arrive with music. They arrive while someone is driving, or right before someone has to leave a room.

The line that gives the book its title took me a while to sit with. You cannot get someone to love you twice, and love is the one thing you can't undo and redo, unlike almost everything else in a life where you get second attempts at your career, your health, your friendships. I kept thinking about how much of my own life runs on second chances, second cities, second drafts of a CV, second versions of a plan. Love apparently doesn't work that way. You get one run at it with a given person, and if you break it, the door doesn't reopen the same way twice, even if the person does come back.

What stayed with me longest wasn't a single line but the shape of the whole thing, a story about a man narrating his failures to someone he's lost, hoping that saying it all out loud in a notebook counts for something even though the person it's addressed to may never read it. There's something almost desperate and almost hopeful about that structure. Writing as penance. Writing as the only kind of second chance still available to you when the real one is gone.

I don't think Twice is Albom's tightest book. Some of the aphorisms do too much work and the plot machinery creaks in places. But the ending line, the one about true love waiting a lifetime, or two, is the kind of sentence that makes you forgive a book its creakier parts. I closed it and sat there for a minute before doing anything else, which is the only review that actually matters to me.

Lessons from the Monk Mindset: Finding Peace in a Chaotic World

I recently finished reading "Think Like a Monk" by Jay Shetty, and it's one of those books that doesn't just sit on your shelf after you're done—it stays with you, quietly reshaping how you see the world. What struck me most wasn't the promise of some distant enlightenment, but the practical wisdom about living intentionally right now, in the midst of our messy, distracted lives.

The Perception Trap

There's a quote from sociologist Charles Horton Cooley that Shetty shares: "I am not what I think I am, and I am not what you think I am. I am what I think you think I am." Reading this felt like someone had turned on a light in a room I didn't even know was dark.

We're not living our own lives—we're living in a perception of a perception of ourselves. We've become so caught up chasing what we think others expect from us that we've lost touch with who we actually are. The first step toward change, Shetty suggests, is recognizing and filtering out the noise of external influences.

The Time Audit: Where Your Life Actually Goes

One exercise that hit differently was the time audit. Shetty recommends spending a week tracking how you divide your time between family, friends, health, and self. The uncomfortable truth? The areas where you spend the most time should match what you value most—but for most of us, they don't.

I tried this myself, and the gap between what I said I valued and where my hours actually went was sobering. It's easy to claim that family is your top priority while spending 60 hours a week at work and scrolling through social media during dinner.

The Contagion of Negativity

Here's something I never really considered: negativity is contagious. Studies show that negativity can increase aggression toward random, uninvolved people. Think about that—your bad mood doesn't just affect you; it ripples outward, touching people who have nothing to do with whatever upset you.

Shetty's approach is simple but powerful: surround yourself with people who are better than you in some way—happier, more spiritual, more grounded. Aim for at least 75 percent of your time to be spent with people who inspire you rather than drain you.

Fear: The Attachment Problem

The book describes fear as rooted in attachment, with detachment as its cure. This isn't about becoming cold or uncaring—it's about understanding that all things are temporary and we can't truly own or control anything. When we accept this, we can fully appreciate what we have without the constant anxiety of losing it.

As Seneca observed, "Our fears are more numerous than our dangers, and we suffer more in our imagination than reality." Most of our suffering happens in the "what if" rather than the "what is."

The Morning Routine Revolution

One of the most practical sections deals with morning routines. Shetty makes a compelling case: looking at your phone first thing in the morning is like inviting one hundred chatty strangers into your bedroom before you've even brushed your teeth.

His recommended morning practice is simple:

• Thankfulness: Express gratitude to someone, someplace, or something every day
• Mindfulness: Start your day with intention, not reaction
• Simplification: Reduce morning decisions so you're not wasting energy on what to wear or eat

The emotion you fall asleep with at night is most likely the emotion you'll wake up with in the morning. End your day with intention, too.

Location Has Energy, Time Has Memory

This concept fascinated me: when you do something at the same time every day, that time keeps the memory for you. It becomes easier and natural. This is why routines aren't restrictive—they're liberating. As Kobe Bryant noted, "A lot of the time, creativity comes from structure."

Monks use routines of time and location throughout the day. The two hours spent meditating support the other twenty-two hours of the day.

Being Present: The Ultimate Practice

"Being present is the only way to live a truly rich and full life." It sounds simple, but how often are we actually present? We're eating while scrolling, talking while thinking about what to say next, living while already worrying about tomorrow.

The monk practice of "chewing your drinks and drinking your food" is about doing familiar things with complete awareness. It's about taking an ordinary moment and finding new ways to appreciate it.

You Can't Be Anything You Want—But You Can Be Everything You Are

This reframing stuck with me. We're told we can be anything we want, which is both inspiring and paralyzing. The truth is more grounded: you can't be anything you want, but you can be everything you are.

As Steve Jobs said, "Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life." Instead of focusing on weaknesses, lean into your strengths and find ways to make them central in your life.

The Practice of Questions Over Answers

Most people are accustomed to looking for answers. Monks focus on questions. When you're trying to understand what you really want, dig to the deepest why behind the want. Every answer provokes deeper questions. Keep asking why until you reach the core.

Start Small, Stay Consistent

The book's final piece of advice might be the most important: pick one thing to change, make it your number one priority, and see it through before you move on to the next. We often fail not because we lack motivation, but because we try to change everything at once.

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Reading "Think Like a Monk" reminded me that transformation doesn't require leaving civilization and meditating in a cave for years. It requires bringing that meditative mindset into our everyday lives—being present at dinner, breathing deeply before reacting, questioning whether our time reflects our values.

The monk mindset isn't about perfection. It's about progress, awareness, and the courage to live intentionally in a world designed to keep us distracted. As the Dalai Lama says, "Every day, think as you wake up, today I am fortunate to be alive, I have a precious human life, I am not going to waste it."

Neither should we.

The Midnight Cry

 

The Midnight Cry

It was around 2:30 in the morning when the silence broke. A sharp, helpless cry pierced through the night — a pup, screaming in pain. We thought it would stop after a while, but when morning came, the cry hadn’t faded. By 10:30 am, it was still there, echoing through the walls, haunting in its persistence.

That’s when G3 decided enough was enough. She went down, found the poor soul, and took charge. Soon, I joined with my father-in-law and Barfi. Together, we carried the little one to the nearby vet. The doctor was gentle but direct — “The survival chances are fifty-fifty.” A pause. “Let’s try.”

She started the IV drip, gave antibiotics, and for a moment, the pup seemed calm. But the doc added a word of caution — if there’s even a hint of rabies, we mustn’t touch the wound barehanded.

So, with all the care we could muster, we brought the pup back and placed it near the watchman’s shed — a small, shaded corner that felt safe. G3’s been reaching out to rescue homes since then, determined as always.

And just like that, my entire first half of the day went to that tiny creature’s fight for life. Sometimes, the day chooses you — and this one did, through a cry in the dark.

Into the Heart of Wayanad: A Journey Through Silence and Soul

“It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.” – Sir Edmund Hillary.

After what felt like an eternity of hibernation, I decided to awaken my long-forgotten love for blogging. Life’s excuses—lack of time, mental clutter, and even my reliance on ChatGPT—had rendered me inert. But December 2024 brought a resolve to rediscover myself through the art of storytelling, and what better way to start than with our magical trip to the forests of Wayanad?

Gayatri, our daughter Barfi, and I were yearning for a tranquil escape, away from the cacophony of daily life. The forests, with their raw beauty, shallow waters, and untamed greenery, seemed like the perfect haven. Wayanad quickly became our unanimous choice for a peaceful New Year’s beginning. The allure of untouched nature, coupled with our desire to explore a lesser-known side of the world, beckoned us.

The Road to Serenity

Our journey began from Bangalore, winding through Mysore and eventually into the lush embrace of Wayanad. The 7.5-hour drive was a revelation in itself—deer darting gracefully across the roads, elephants trumpeting in the distance, monkeys leaping from tree to tree, and birds painting the skies with their vibrant colors.

Yet, the slow pace of our driver tested our patience. As Gayatri joked, “Are we in a car or a bullock cart?” Despite his snail-like speed, the scenery more than made up for it.

Gayatri, nostalgic about her musical escapades in Mysore, shared stories of her time there with the enthusiasm of a child revisiting her favorite toy. Barfi, meanwhile, oscillated between her favorite anime and soaking in the scenery. Her initial reluctance—rooted in a fear of spiders—soon gave way to unbridled joy, even when she spotted snakes (yes, plural!).

The Forest That Rules Itself

Crossing three states, countless waterfalls, and dense forests, we finally reached our resort, hidden deep within the wilderness. The path was a testament to nature’s supremacy: fallen trees decomposed where they lay, streams carved their own paths, and ancient rocks stood timeless. It felt as if we had stepped into an untouched world where humanity was merely a guest.

The resort itself was a marvel. Arriving just before sunset, we were greeted by chirping birds and a host who seemed like the forest’s own custodian. His knowledge of the ecosystem was profound—he could interpret the forest’s mood from its stillness. Dinner was a feast of freshly harvested vegetables and fruits, served with tales of the forest’s secrets.

A Symphony of Nature

The next morning began with a bird-watching tour led by our host. It was here that I learned about the fascinating loyalty of robins. “Once paired,” he said, “they never look for another mate. If one dies, the other often follows, unable to bear the separation.” One story he shared, of a male robin tirelessly bringing food to its nesting partner until tragedy struck, left me deeply moved.

By the serene Kabini stream, Barfi was in her element, collecting rocks and splashing in the water. Her laughter echoed through the forest, mingling with the sounds of playful monkeys and the gentle rustling of leaves.

I, too, had my moments of awe and adventure, spotting a venomous snake. I chose not to share this encounter with Gayatri until we were safely back at the resort—her phobia of snakes would’ve surely disrupted the peace we had found.

Whispers of History and Adventure

Later, we visited the Banasura Sagar Dam, the largest earthen dam in India. The boat rides, water sports, and tales of Banasura’s devotion to Lord Shiva transported us to a different era. That night, a jeep safari took us deeper into the forest. The darkness was alive with the sounds of the wild. Elephants, rabbits, and deer appeared like shadows in the moonlight, but the elusive tiger remained hidden. Perhaps the jungle wanted us to return.

The resilience of the tribal people we met was inspiring. Living in the heart of the jungle, they shared ingenious ways of coexisting with wildlife, from climbing trees to setting off firecrackers to ward off predators. Their harmony with nature was humbling.

The Call of the Ancient

On our final morning, while Gayatri and Barfi chose to rest amidst the calm serenade of birds, I ventured to the Edakkal Caves. The steep climb led to engravings that whispered tales of prehistoric times, reminding me of humanity’s deep connection with nature.

The Lesson of Silence

As we packed up and retraced our journey back to Bangalore, I reflected on what this trip had taught us. We had set out seeking silence and found it—not just the absence of noise, but the profound stillness that only nature can offer.

“To sit in the shade on a fine day and look upon verdure is the most perfect refreshment.” – Jane Austen.

Wayanad gave us more than just memories; it gifted us a renewed appreciation for the world’s raw beauty and a lesson in living harmoniously. I end this journey inspired to embrace life’s silences and celebrate its wilderness.

Daughters and Sunrises: A Reflection on the Beauty of Life

It’s another sloppy Saturday Morning and I woke up at my usual time: 545 AM. The moment I came to my window, I saw the light of dawn seeped into my room. I rubbed my bleary eyes and walked to the balcony. There was a pearly glow in the sky.

The sun poured through my window. Another day had dawned, bringing with it new hopes and aspirations. It was invigorating, full of songbirds, walkers and joggers. I just pondered how same view changes with time every day: at midday, it is sleepy, hot and still. In the evening, shadows lengthen and coolness returns. But at night, it can be a frightening place, with dangers lurking in the dark shadows of the foliage.

 

And with every sun rises, marks the start of a new day. It's a reminder that no matter what happened yesterday, today is a new chance to make things right. The beauty of a sunrise can bring a sense of peace and hope, especially to those who are lucky enough to witness it.

Just then Barfi my daughter, came running from behind, bringing a similar kind of beauty into my life. Daughters are a symbol of love, hope, and new beginnings. As they grow and mature, they bring new light and joy into the world, just like how the sun rises each day.

 

One of the most beautiful things about daughters is their innocence and wonder. They approach life with a sense of awe and excitement, ready to learn and experience all that the world has to offer. As they grow, they bring a new perspective to the world, one filled with love and compassion.

 

Like sunrises, daughters remind us of the beauty of life. They show us that no matter what challenges we face, there is always a new day ahead, filled with new opportunities and possibilities. So, the next time you witness a sunrise or spend time with your daughter, take a moment to appreciate the beauty they bring into your life.

 

Gym Is My Therapy

Begining: Due to my sedentary lifestyle and covid lockdown, i kind of gained weight without my knowledge. It was June 28, Monday I stepped into Gym after so much of self-negotiation, just to realize that I touched 106.8 kgs on the scale. It was shocking moment to me as i was the heaviest on weight ever. That moment I knew for sure that I need to make a 180-degree change in my lifestyle. 

The turning point: At this stage of my life , everything about me changed: the way I sit, the way I stand, the way I eat food, the way others address me, etc. In short, I became a different me and this had a hard hit on my confidence and personality. The journey began with self-introspection and I started to cut down on my junk, harmful diet and started doing endless hours of cardio. This is exactly the moment when I met my coach Dev who shifted my training from more cardio/less strength training to more strength training /decent cardio. To date I thank him every day for this or else I probably would have injured my knees In the first month.

 I was able to cut down to 4 kgs in one month, which motivated me further to try in a more organized way wherein Dev coached me in putting effort into eating right, working out in a correct manner. Eventually, I was able to build a suitable routine for myself which matched my body requirements and my fitness goals 

Small And Achievable Targets: I gave myself small and achievable targets and upgraded my target once I achieved the previous one. Starting every, Dev ensured to have my weight and BMI checked. This gave me all the scientific justification of how much percentage of fat I am reducing and how much muscle I am gaining along with all the essential vitamin and mineral levels. On top of this, Dev helped me visualize the plan going forward and with his continued monomaniacal focus on training me towards sculpting my body, I began to take bodybuilding seriously.

Weight Loss And Workout: Dev ensured that my workout has a mix of different forms of cardio, bodyweight training, as well as weight training, and most importantly mobility. The key is to mix these based on your own body’s requirement, and not to overdo as well as underdo it. There is absolutely no shortcut to losing weight. It is a structured process that can give good and healthy results only if respected and followed with appropriate guidance, knowledge, and discipline. 

On September 28, Tuesday I was 91.2 Kgs. It was 15.6 Kgs weight loss in a span of 3 months.

Conclusion: Don't find time to workout but make time to workout. This is a lifestyle change and there is no finish line. And for me i know i have just started.

Things My Son Needs to Know About The World by Fredrik Backman: My Review

 

Off-late I have been reading reviews of the books read by my uncle and it kindled a sense of inspiration in me to jolt down the reviews of the books I read, which in a way, gives a sense of direction to my thoughts.

With this in my mind, I thought to review this latest book I read: "Things My Son Needs To Know About The World-By Fredrik Backman"

Let me start with the very conclusion and then take you through the realm of my experiences of reading this.

After completing this book, I felt that, the author, wanted to give his Son various myriads of experiences on the different facets of life, but, the most important aspect here is that he insisted to have his son to have experience the best among the available ones. In case his son wants to learn music, then let him learn from the best teacher , if his son wants to learn martial arts, its best to learn from the top master or don’t learn at all. This really made me to pause and re-think.

Well, now there are several interesting areas where author would like to tell his son that 

when he is the most angry at him, he want him to try to remember that , he’ll always be the tiny one-year-old boy standing naked in the hallway with a toothless grin and a cuddly lion clutched to his chest. Whenever he is difficult. Whenever he is embarrassing. Unreasonable. Unfair. He want him to think back to that day. That day when he refused to tell him where he would hidden his car keys. And Author wants his son to remember that it was him who started it. I really felt this was cute. Because I can relate my now 6 year old daughter, who hides my car keys so that I can spend more time with her. 

Few lines that strikes me are as below:

1) I just want you to know that I love you. Once you’re older, you’ll realize that I made an endless line of mistakes during your childhood. I know that. I’ve resigned myself to it. But I just want you to know that I did my very, very best. I left it all on the field. I gave this every ounce of everything I had.

2) People can say whatever they like, but when a couple who has been married for ten years walks around the bookshelves section calling one another words normally only used by alcoholic crime fiction detectives, they might be arguing about a number of things, but trust me: cupboard doors is not one of them.

3) Follow your passions. Find someone to love. Do your best. Be kind when you can, tough when you need to be. Hold on to your “true” friends. You’ll be just fine. And most importantly, Find someone who doesn’t love you for the person you are, but despite the person you are.

4) Whenever your mother has given you breakfast, the kitchen looks like an advertisement for cleaning products. Whenever I give you breakfast, it looks like the part of The Hunger Games where everybody dies. There’s something someone’s not telling me here, dammit. So, will be the case with you. Boys will be boys and its okay 

5) I want you to avoid that feeling of not fitting in. So experience different things but most importantly learn only from the BEST.

6) You might end up hating football. And I want you to know that I’ll never, ever, ever love you any less in that case. Or be any less proud of you.

7) We shouldn’t judge. We should have empathy. And we can never allow stuff to become more important than people8) They say that it’s a father’s job to teach his son what it means to be a man.

9) I want you to always remember that you can become whatever you want to become, but that’s nowhere near as important as knowing that you can be exactly who you are.

10)  I will never tell you whether you should be religious or not. Or even if you should believe in God. That’s a thing between God and you, or not. As long as you are kind to your mother and don’t murder or steal

11) Sometimes, when I was quite small, your grandpa and I would go out in the car together. Round, round, round we would drive. I don’t really know where we were going. Things needed picking up. Things needed dropping off. We never said all that much. We probably didn’t even talk much at all when I was small, your grandpa and I. And when I got older, I used to think those car trips must have been incredibly boring. We just sat there next to one another in silence and drove, you know? It was not until after you were born that I realized those were probably some of the very best moments of my childhood, for both me and your grandpa. Because they were ours.

12). And when you’re all grown up, I guess it’ll be the memory of nights like this that I’ll hold most dear. I won’t remember the headaches and the swearing then. Your expression then. That laugh. That’s what I’ll remember. Those hours were ours

13) sometimes the strongest person isn’t the one who hits. It’s the one who doesn’t hit back. All right?

14) Never mistake kindness for weakness.

15). Your mother loves nothing in this life as much as she loves singing, and she chose to share her time on Earth with a man she can’t sing

16) life is all about the small margins. A few inches here or there.

17) always remember: Whenever I’m difficult. Whenever I’m embarrassing. Unreasonable. Unfair. Just think back to that day when you refused to tell me where the hell you’d hidden my car keys. And never forget that you started this.

While reading this I was thinking about my own parents, who never used to argue about money, but only about “principles”. They’ll never understand why you would pay anyone to do something you could just as easily do yourself (and their sons will never understand why you would want to do anything all wrong by yourself instead of hiring an expert to begin with, which is actually the cause of almost all of our inter-generational conflicts). They’re a different breed, pure and simple. They know how an extension cord works

Well, this book is a great refresher, definitely not a one-time read for sure.

I will start reviewing more books from now and there’s something so special in this experience, in falling in love with words. Feeling them like fluttering butterflies beneath your skin. Like whirlwinds in your head. Like a punch to the gut.

Brilliant book to read, takes you back memory lane for sure.

Through my eyes

 

We have connections and ties with others that we can’t escape, which has a domino effect in itself, causing things to cascade down into bringing everyone together. Maybe our actions affect others in a manner we can never imagine. 

After a long time, I went to a nearby temple today and I saw someone circumventing the sacred pillar and it triggered a series of past memories within me.  During my childhood, it was a very frequent sight for me to watch my mother wrapping her hair in a thin cloth towel, piled on her head, from where the water starts dripping down the wet strands, slowly cascading onto the shoulder of her dark green saree blouse, forming a wet patch where the drops fell.

She used to look striking, her eyes lined with kohl, dark and shining. Her forehead was always with a deep maroon bindi that contrasted with her dark green saree. The bangles on her wrists used to make a tinkling noise. And not to forget her smile always used to warm my heart. She had an aura that instantly made people feel at ease, made them feel special, made them feel loved. The way she used to look at me with eyes that made my heart melt, I just can never forget that

Well, I went to the temple today not just because it’s my birthday but more importantly it is the day I lost my mother 3 years back, so I had some rituals to take care of. 

She was gentle, kind, understanding and ticks all the boxes of the qualities a good mother should have. I am still picking up the shards and I bleed every time I find a memory, a piece. I was so lost in my spiralling thoughts

My favourite pastime had been blogging;I always like the ritual of writing. Giving definite shapes in the form of words to abstract thoughts makes them more powerful. The more I write, the surer I am of what I feel, what I want. The thoughts then lose their power to rise up like smoke, blinding me

When I write them down, I weave them into ropes; ropes I use to attempt to rein in my life. 

But thinking about her today had stirred a lot of memories I thought I had buried. 

Well, I just told myself again for one more time today that  Life is a series of new beginnings…you start, you reach, you reset and you start again… Again and again, you will have to start again. Every finishing line is the new starting line 

Life is about growing and outgrowing. I learnt to gracefully let go of the beautiful past and majestically step into the new future. Past is memory. The future is hope, so reset and start again.

MEMORABLE MARCH,2021 AT MANDOVI HOUSE-GOA (By T.V.A.RAM)…….मन DOLE….. मेरे DIL… DOLE….MANDOVI

 

We, as a family hardly met all together on a happy occasion for a long long time. My younger brother Commodore Prasanna just became Rear Admiral in the Indian Navy. We all together just managed well the wedding of Bunny and Kasia on zoom in the mid-February. The WhatsApp pictures of  beautiful peacocks, turtles and scary snakes received as daily visitors at the Mandovi mansion only made us more curious. Then the threat of their impending transfer out of Goa in ensuing May finally hurried us all. So, Mandovi's family get-together in March at Goa happened.

The excitement for the Goa trip for the entire family, the oldies and the kids alike built up and the hype  kept on increasing as the D-day of travel approached. Luckily we all managed to get  RT-PCR test  negative reports before our embankment.  On arrival at the Mandovi house, the snow-white towels folded  beautifully in the form of a swan which  was neatly placed on the well made up bed welcomed us. A re-run of our honey-moon days….!!!!!! 

Mandovi house’s lush greens outside, swings in the backyard, the beautiful flowers all around was a feast to the eye. With so much scenic beauty around, Gayatri and Pallavi our beautiful daughters-in-law were excited to  have their own photo-shoots. Enjoying the nature, they recorded some beautiful videos. The sight of the beautiful peacocks and peahens in the complex in groups and the male at times spreading it’s beautiful feathers was a sight to behold. The three domesticated turtles christened Nimbo, Jumbo and Dumbo in the small pond of the backyard were playful. The constant fear of snakes lurking in bushes,  with many of  

their pictures circulating in the social media, kept all of  us on our toes. The few morning walks on the very well maintained roads and the brief jogging sessions there  excited all of us. Our Valli, Mrs.Prasanna was at her usual loving best served us chole bhatures of the north, Chinese noodles, Goan sannas, Goa’s Poi  bread , and   the Italian pizzas. The daily yummy afternoon snacks ensured we all became a few kgs healthier.

The one week of togetherness between 26th March and 2nd April was jam packed with many activities and fun-filled  celebrations. We celebrated festival of colours Holi, for the first time in Goa. The day began with lots of colours which we all applied to each other, children as always had a blast. Some bald heads of the naval officers who visited us to wish  also were also  not spared. Their bald heads were generously coloured. With Bollywood holi songs playing aloud had wonderful holi celebrations

 Holidays ke Beech mein, we all managed to visit a private beach where we had lots of fun with the sea water and the never ending waves. Of all, Barfi had a time of her life, fully enjoyed  the splashes of the waves, not caring the warnings of her parents. It was great fun to watch her joy and excitement

We all visited the training centre of the Marine commandos of the Indian navy. Holding of AK-47 there  thrilled us.We realised how tough and hard is the training  for these commandos to keep them ever fit and alert  always.  The visit to the Tarini boat which sailed over all the continents of the world was interesting. The daredevilry and the adventurous spirit of the sailors was a revealing

    Then we had birthday celebrations of my better half who just turned 16(turn16 to..61}on April fool’s day.

Bujji and Valli , as always ensured to make the day a memorable one. If we had a wonderful cake cutting  on midnight of the birthday with lots of balloons and other decorations, the same evening was reserved for a beautifully arranged dinner in the green lawns outside with hot sizzlers for dinner, lovely music in the background. The timely power shut down enabled us to have candle-lit dinner. Dances, music followed and the highlight of the evening was impromptu English song by our little Barfi. It was stunning talent  to see her sing with clear lyrics and melody. Amazing. So proud of her.

We, all the boys had late night talks some nights going till 3 am but thoroughly enjoyed them as we understood and came a little more closer to one another during these interesting conversations. Such  chances to fully and freely  spend together in the family are quite rare. The joining of Prudhvi raj, my special nephew has only added extra flavour to our group. Interactions with him were not only interesting but also enjoyable. His thoughts, ideas and the thinking process are  interestingly different. With Dhruv, it is discussions of a different type, as he is very clear in his thoughts and does not waver. His interest and knowledge about automobiles is amazing, we are absolutely sure about his bright future ahead. The interactions with Dhron  have always been very interesting. The best part  about the interactions with Dhron  is that he makes the others talk about their favourite topics and he remains cool and non-puzzled even if provoked. Conversations with him excite me.

         For the bacha party,{Ref:Pic:5} if Bujji babai was Tata police, Rohini bamma was a teacher and Atchut babai was a funny Tata. For Aayra, the baby of the whole gang good was gudat and bad was badut.

During the daytime one day ladies were busy with mehandi session

some boys had  facial sessions and head massages. children joined by the elders playing the interesting building game of jengo. Carrom and TT games kept us engaged. All the boys thoroughly enjoyed the TT games, specially the doubles as four of us could play together.

The veterans of the gang me and Rohini even participated successfully in the 5 km run of the’Station Mandovi half marathon’ on 4 th April, 2021. The Mandovi house has a tradition  where the CO, the Commanding Officer residing in the house is expected to  leave his mark in the improvement or betterment of the INS Mandovi house. 

In our case the Mandovi house has left  a mark of many sweet memories of one week family masti which  we  will keep discussing and ruminating for a long long time to come. Jai Mandovi…..Mera dil maange more…. Man..dole mera dil dole …Mandovi.

4 years, Already!

This is my fourth year living without you. I knew it would be hard, but I didn’t know it would be this hard. I didn’t know I would break down while preparing tea today, because that’s when I would have phoned you. And I didn’t know how much I would need those consoling hugs from barfi, your granddaughter, the one who remind me of you more and more the older she gets. Barfi keeps asking me about you every now and then. Not sure of how to explain her, I keep telling that you are with sun during the day and with moon during the night watching her with eagles eye. I am sure one day she will find out what I meant. I wish you could have heard her say it. She has your solid build and your kind heart. She is so much bigger than when you held her last. She’s already a five years old, Daddy. She was only 1 year old when we lost you. She has your thought process and your happy demeanour. She is definitely having your sense of humour. 

 

I wish you could have taught her math or cooked her your famous tomato upma. I wish you could have spent more time with her that  she would treasure, just as you did for me. You were so kind, Daddy. I wish you could be here to cheer her on at her karate classes, yes Barfi is learning karate these days. I wish you could be there to watch her graduate and get married. I wish you could see all you had to offer as a dad and a grandpa and maybe one day, a great-grandpa. You had so much life left to live. So many more memories to make. It hurts unbelievably to think that barfi won’t remember you. But I promise you this, Daddy—she will know you. I will make sure of it. Not a day, or hardly even a minute, goes by that I don’t think of you. I talk to you all the time and I still know what you would say in response. I’m scared to lose that. I don’t want to forget what your big bear hugs felt like

People say it gets easier, and maybe it does. The hurt never really goes away, but I have learnt to live with it. Death becomes a way of life. But when I hear one of your favorite songs, or feel the urge to pick up the phone and call you—that’s when it hits me. I break down like I did the moment you took your last breath. May be, Grief isn’t something you can control or wish away. It’s always there, ever-present, just waiting to strike.

And today, it’s like a heavy cloak hanging over my shoulders, I am trying to enjoy this day with the family I still have. They understand, of course, and I know they miss you, too.

Thank you for supporting me, believing in me, teaching me, being there for me, and loving me, Dad.

I know I will Never Get Over This, But i Will Get Through this. As I learn to accept, I might not feel the pain but the scar remains

In loving memory of my dearest Daddy,

Aditya 

 

Mothers Day 2020

It is few hours away from “Mothers-day” and I sit here at my home, locked down and thinking about my mother.  Among the many memories I had with her, one which I recall the most is how she always believed in “peace first” policy. One such incident was  during my post schooling days, when i used to get quite upset over the simple things, like my mother not giving coffee "on-time" every morning and this used to bother me a lot. And after observing this for a while, I complained this to my mother.  For which, she told me  that anything that comes into my life should stay with me to become my strength or it should leave me, to make me free. But  it should never stay with me and continue be my weakness. And she also told me that these habits that has gained mastery over me, will be very soon  gaining mastery over my peace....and for sure will disturb my peace.  For which, she told me to practice the ability to “say no” for one full week & abstain from that which disturbed me. Practising this will either give me complete mastery over it or I will no more be in need of this, forever. 

May be i didn't understood this truly then but now i realised that everything that comes into our life should stay with us to become our strength or it should leave us to make us free it should never stay with us and become our weakness.

I am practising this advice of hers now to only see how much peace I have invited in my life. 

Well, TWO YEARS before, on the same day, I wrote something but didn’t publish then. I wrote:

She's caged away in a place “they” call home, staring void. Her language became nothingness. She sees mostly the ceiling and sometimes the walls.

She does no movements, yet  they say she is still alive. Is she? or is she not? What am I to believe? What am I to feel?
The pain I now endure for her, deeply tears me apart. I have survived this year after year by blocking her from my thoughts. Yet as the time comes close for me to return these fears resurface.
The saddest part being not able to do anything but being with her. She is my mother. I came into this world from her womb and now getting ready to carry her to her tomb wishing to say goodbye.
Its so very excruciating to say my final goodbye is near-by. My heart pangs, my body feels weakened and my hands seem to tremble.
Death, although is final destination, its never easy to let someone go.
Although I know this deep sleep will bring peace and comfort. It will remove her from a life that disappeared many years ago.
It is all so agonising as I try to say my final goodbyes.

Today, I saw my mother’s hanging photograph again for one more time and said to myself that when you are unwell and still there with me,  we understand each other’s silence. And we kept gazing at each other for hours. There were moments with no communication and yet there was so much of understanding. I always keep wondering how Ironic life is... when I was born, you understood my language without any name to it. Now when you are leaving me, I am understanding your language without you uttering a single word. isn’t it wonderment in itself? They say you have died & passed away . Amaa… you will always continue to live in my heart now Forever and Always. You didn't pass away, but you passed on you passed on your compassion, kindness & pure love.

Happy Mother’s Day, for one more time 

With Silence beyond words and immense gratitude, 

Aditya

                                                     The Embarrassing moment

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The very word ‘BICYCLE’ reminds me of my good old school days. I still remember how desperate I was for owning a cycle. Thanks to my uncle who gifted me a wonderful bicycle. Well, I guess, I was at the incipient stage of my 6^th class, when I had been gifted this. It was the very first kind of cycles having a shock absorber (A mechanical damper; which absorbs energy of sudden impulses). So, you know, it was like neighbour’s envy and owner’s pride. I used to take Unreasonable and inordinate self-esteem every moment I was on it. It was more than a girlfriend to me at least perhaps at that point of time. Long years ago, when my grandfather used to cycle, cycling for workout would have been a ludicrous idea. And it was broadly or extravagantly humorous; resembling farce. It is no more as people zip around in nippy cars and vehicles and worry about ways to puncture their waist tiers. And I badly wanted to own a bicycle of my own and what best can happen then get this beautiful entity gifted. But yes, there was a catch here.

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My uncle is from Indian Navy and synonymously second to discipline. He said to me that I can only get the luxury of a new bicycle if I show him significant progress in my yearly report. I was in class 6 then, and finally the day came when I was given my yearly progress report. Ironically fate had different plans for me, that year I couldn’t get the expected progress and I was far behind my expectations. I was completely disappointed, not because I got less marks but because I would lose a beautiful bicycle. So, I went home with a great disappointment and to my surprise I realized that my uncle happened to give us a surprise visit to our place on the same day but was not at home when I reached. So, inside my mind, I was thinking about all the permutations and combinations of ideas, that help me to get the bicycle first. In this process, I took the help of my innocent brother and was discussing secretly with him on where to hide the progress report and was checking his inputs. As always in my case, whenever I plan anything that should not be, I will get caught in the very first step itself…so was this for me, My uncle was sleeping on the floor other side of the bed and I didn’t notice him , thinking that he was away I was preparing the entire script and he overheard the entire conversation. Well, the rest is history…..Although my uncle gifted me with a beautiful bicycle but that came with a deserved punishment. I really don’t remember what I thought then but now if I think, I just smile about it and feel blessed that how I am corrected at the beginning of my mistakes ensuring my thought process is always right. I fondly call him “BujjI Babai” and he is my inspiration.  This was my most embarrassing and memorable moment.

Today for some reason I saw a kid on a cycle hit the pedal of exhilaration. Without the claustrophobic helmet, and I asked him if I can pedal the cycle for a while. As I hit the pedals after ages, the biker habits come into play. No matter how hard I resist, the right hand tries to rev up the non-existing accelerator. Then I forgot cyclists don’t have accelerator. And I saw  the U-turn, which  is yards away. But I felt it’s not a big deal, I have lifted up the bicycle and put it down on the other side of the divider. It seemed like weightlifting. Textbooks would suggest that cycling is exercise for calves and thighs, but in city it is definitely  for wrists, arms and shoulders. I couldn’t believe till the road became pathetically bad with  the potholes and the dug-up patches on the road, sent shockwaves of energy down my hand (my shock absorbers started behaving as shock receptors) . It funny and took me down the memory lane for one more time.

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