Unveiled Whispers...

“All day I think about it, then at night I say it.

 Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?

 I have no idea.

 My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that.

 And I intend to end up there.” Rumi

Today when I reminisce, I realise that most people had held me at an arm’s length. Or was it me who was keeping others at bay? I used to have a masked air which made people think twice before talking to me. I knew I didn’t have a friendly appearance. Or had I deliberately made myself unfriendly so that none would come near me? I was a lone wolf and made my face completely bare leaving others to wonder about my thoughts.  I was branded as the one with a big attitude.

But I was not. Actually I was scared. I was always at a loss for words. I didn’t know what and how to talk. My tongue got glued when people came to me. My voice refused to come out from my throat when I opened my mouth. Conversation is an art, and I lacked the skill. My hands would sweat and my throat would become dry. I’d falter and blabber. My voice would vanish. I languished in my own world of unresolved thoughts and memories. I couldn’t cry too. The tears were sealed. How I had longed to weep out the tons of emotions, anger and tensions!! How I had longed to wipe out those little drops when they spill out!!  My pillows were always dry. Those little pearls would rise up from my heart, to get locked behind my closed eyes.

My friends think of me as an outgoing person. But deep inside, I am extremely private.  I keep myself well shielded from the slaps of life. I bridle my emotions. Life became less messy when I became obedient, undemanding and sacrificing, when I cropped the wings of my dreams. But that isn’t living, is it? That’s just an existence.  I wanted to live. I wanted to come out from behind my veil. I wanted push myself back from the edge of self destruction. I wanted to dive into the sea of life and swim along with the tide freely. I want to soothe the fears that plague me. I want to..........................

TRapped Whispers....

 

Finally, everything is clear. It is not men who make mistakes. It is us, we the woman. If you want to live safely in such a cultural-rich holy land, there are certain facts you are bound to be aware of. You have to learn martial arts, you should have the courage to defend yourself. Authorities might place cameras and other bullshits for you, for your safety. They are trying their best to make India safe for women. Because... men can’t control themselves. Men are dogs out on the street who wait to snatch precious diamonds. (Not my sentence-Comparison made by a man himself). And you can’t control the dog. Men are hard thorns waiting to prick a soft flower.

A decent woman is not supposed to go out at night. A decent woman is not supposed to go out with a man. She is not supposed to become friends with men. Because Indian men won’t be able to control their libido. The mere sound of the word ‘woman’ will put sex in his eyes. Maybe that’s why these beasts rape even their little daughters. So, my countrymen, if your mother or sister or daughter or wife happens to go out at night, please make sure that you pour ample petrol on them and burn them alive. And if they do want to step out from their prison, please make sure that their father or grandfather or uncle or some useless dog accompany them.

Any my dear sweet and soft flowers, when these dogs come to rape you, don’t fight back. Because a woman is far more responsible for her being raped. Men are always in an enjoyment mood. Those who have money use money and those who have courage use courage. The rich pay and the poor grab. But remember.. if they rape you, don’t make a sound. They are teaching you a lesson. They beat, they bite, they hurt, they tear off your dress, they rape, just to teach you a lesson. If you keep silent and if you don’t fight back, you can live forever. They will let you go alive. If you wear a jeans, you will be raped. Sleeveless is out of question. Does that make women in sarees and purdas safe? Those women also are getting raped. So it’s not the dress, isn’t it??

Don’t ever think of confiding in your male friend. Don’t ever ask your male friend for any help. Because we have a biiiiiiig culture, and in that culture, a woman cannot have a man as her friend. Because men think sex.  

In the land of Durga, in the land of Sita, in the land of Jhansi Rani,  in the land of such brave and pious women, in our great Bharat, it’s a shame when a woman has to keep her eyes and mouth shut. When will the mindset of an average Indian man ever change? Why do they think of sex when they see a human with a vagina and breasts? It was this vagina that pushed you out to enjoy your freedom. It was these breasts that suckled you to become who you are now.

I am a person who has many male friends. I have not experienced any wrong or untimely movements from anyone. When should you start to keep them at a bay? I strictly tell my sons, my family, not to make any girl cry. Let that awareness spread among the youngsters at least. To make a place safe for a woman, the first thing that should be done is to make men aware that women are not a toy to be broken into pieces. Men have no right to tear apart a life for their enjoyment. Men should be ashamed of their gender by seeing the way those Nirbhaya accused stood, without a remorse in their eyes, and by listening to the words of those defence lawyers. These morons should be kept in a cell full of gays for some time, and hanged by their balls. They should be chopped off................

Disclaimer: This is not aimed at the men I know well. This is the reaction after watching India's Daughter. I am not generalising men. Just those dogs who can't control their urge.... I'm sorry if I have hurt anyone's feelings....

Confused Whispers......

I knew that feeling. The eyes that looked at me were filled with hatred. But why??? It was this ‘why’ that had been troubling me for days now. I couldn’t think of any reason. I rewinded each and every detail again and again... still no clue.

I invited my intuition for a chit chat today. We were meeting after a long time. I trust her completely. My instincts have never ever betrayed me. Whenever in doubt, I have stopped seeking answers from outside. I just listen to the whisper of my heart. Whenever I have done something that didn’t feel right, it had always ended up not being right. I have learnt through the hardest way that my heart, my intuition, my instinct... they would ring the warning bells whenever danger is around the corner. But now, I am not getting it as clearly as before. Or am I scared to face the truth? I know this will break me beyond repair. Is that why I am not seeing an answer? Well, I will have to wait and find out. Waiting hurts. Thinking also hurts. But not knowing the answer is the most painful....

 How many of you have been used by others? When they know that you have given your heart to them, they squeeze you till your last drop. When you are totally drained, and when you don’t have anything else to offer, they leave you just like that... And then, total silence. Full stop. Why do people allow themselves to be exploited like this? Well, it is not because they want to. It just happens. That’s the way of the heart.

Deep inside me, there is a darker side. The one which no one is aware of. The one you know, is of course, me. But my other half? There are many who say that I don’t have a heart… that I don’t have any feelings. Most think of me as insensitive. My dearest friend always says that I have a closed face… emotions can’t be read from my face. Is it because I don’t feel anything at all? Is it because there is a void in my heart? No… my heart is not empty. It pains me to see that people think I can’t love. It hurts me when they say I can’t feel. The very close relatives, and my own parents, were at a loss when they came to read my mind.  Why can’t I express myself? Why can’t I say openly what my feelings are? Why can’t I open my heart to my dear and near ones?

My thoughts are cluttered. They pour out without any order. My lips smile. My eyes try to. But my heart bleeds. It might take days. But I will recover. I have to fix my wounds. I have to line up my thoughts. After all, the path ahead is long and curved................

Kailash whispers.....

“At the centre of the earth, there stands a great mountain,

Lord of snows, majestic, rooted in the sea,

Its summit wreathed in clouds,

A measuring rod for all creation”

Kailas......... A hike to the centre of the world. Where mortals merge with nature. A place where we can disburden ourselves. A place from where we can heap ourselves up with bliss.

After reading and re-reading many books on Kailash, reaching there became a dream. All the odds were against me. Over weight, blood pressure, weak legs, lack of exercise... How will I go there? High altitudes, sub zero temperature, lots of walking, potatoes all through.. Everything was discouraging. Me, who used to puff and pant while climbing even three-four steps.... Me, who used to snuggle in the living room sofa when my husband switched on the a/c... Me, who couldn’t walk even ten steps without gasping...Me, who had felt like puking at the first bite and smell of a potato piece.... That Me wanted to go to Kailash! Nears and dears scoffed at my dream. “It’s not for you...” they all sang in the same note. And I knew they were right.

But when your heart sings, you would surely dance. Thoughts of Kailash haunted me day and night. Talking to people who had gone to any parts of Himalayas became an obsession. My mind travelled to and fro many times. My heart wandered through the peaks and valleys. I knew for sure that I must go. I wanted to melt in its voluminous folds. I started my first step.. I began to walk. I walked in the morning, at noon, in the evening. Regardless of time and place, I walked. And wherever I saw stairs, I started climbing it too. I wanted to reduce at least 25 kilos to fulfil my dream. But I could reduce only 20. Still, that was something. The lost fat came back inside me as a mass of confidence. I was all set. And I went, and came back without any damage.. regardless of my blood pressure, regardless of my aversion to potatoes, regardless of the tremors of cold. And if I could go, each and every one of you can surely go...

A journey to Kailas is not for those who have a weak heart. A journey to Kailas is not for those who are hygiene maniacs. A journey to Kailas is not for those who like a fast life, who would like to take the trip just to make one more name in your conquered list. But for everyone else, you should experience it at least once. For it is not a journey, it is an experience.

Kailas expedition is not that gruesome contrary to popular beliefs. It’s not easy either. First thing you have to get adjusted is with the altitude. If you can get used to the heights, if you can breathe normally in high altitude, then you are near to your destination. All the fifteen days you will be on move. Till China, roads are hopeless. But once you reach China, you can see concrete roads.  Next, you should be prepared enough to live in the same dress for 3-4 days, without taking bath, without having clean toilets. If you are lucky enough to get good roommates, you might be able to change.. at least your under garments. And then, almost the same food, rather same taste for every food, every day. And you can really complete the trip without having even a single piece of potato. They have other food too. For the Parikrama also, if you take a pony, you can easily complete the three days. The only problem will be a two km hike through Dolma pass, which will be covered with ice. Since ponies slip there, you will have to walk those two kms. If you have shoes with good grip, if your body gets adjusted to high altitude, then you can do it. The Parikrama path is not a narrow one now. It has been made wide by Chinese. Police would be patrolling every now and then, and if you fall sick also, you are absolutely safe.

So, my friends, if you would like to go to Kailas, don’t hesitate. You can do it. All you have to do is go for a brisk walk for one hour every day... at least for 3-4 months. Make your legs strong. And you are ready to go. Wait for my further whispers to pack your bag.....

Himalayan Whispers.........

 

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves."    John Muir

I was deep in love with the Himalayas. I had always dreamt of going deeper, wandering through its mysterious valleys and peaks, listening to the whispering weeds, resting on its cozy lap, filling my heart and soul with its crisply chilled fresh air. I was absolutely hooked. I was feeling it inside out. Setting my small feet on the King of the mountains, looking up at Kailash, looking around for the thirty three crore plus gods became a passion. I waited.. waited apprehensively for the call.

And then the mountain beckoned. The impossibly far away Kailash opened its colossal doors for me. The mighty Himalayas smiled at me. My heart was dancing to the call. I was dying to go near and feel its gigantic strength.

There had been hurdles. Getting permission from family. Feminine issues. Health... Some of the first ones to overcome. But somehow once I booked my tickets, everyone wanted me to go. Then came the flood and we had to cancel all our tickets. I was heartbroken. What could we mortals do when nature plays? We are just helpless spectators.

But the call had already come. Who could defy the call of the Ultimate? If there are problems, there will naturally be solutions too. And I went... I knew that mountains were not what they seem from a distance. So far I had seen it only as paintings. But now, I was going to touch it... I was going to feel it... smell it.. listen to it.. My heart was dancing in ecstasy. I was in seventh heaven.

While packing, my mom gave me an old muffler. It was my dad’s, which he had used almost 45-50 years back. The moment I touched it, I could feel a strong arm protecting me. Confidence and courage were flowing from that muffler to my heart. I knew then for sure that I was going to make it without any hassle.

So off we went, with a heavy luggage and a light heart, to Delhi and from there to Kathmandu where we met our group. It was mostly a ladies gang. 40 ladies and four couples. From there a helicopter ride to Nepal-Tibet border. Elephantine Himalayas on both sides and you are floating along with the clouds in between. Where ever you look, you could see only the green mountains and cascading waterfalls covered with a slight mist. Rivers with crystal clear water flows down. I wanted to take a video, but the ladies sitting with me were against it. They had closed their eyes tightly shut and were chanting prayers. I was amused. I told them, “I don’t think our helicopter will crash here. We aren’t that virtuous for such a boon. We are not that lucky enough to die in such a heavenly place... if it happens in the midst of this mountains, what else do we need? That’s the ultimate moksha...” There was a thrill in my voice. If looks could kill, I would have been dead at that instant. Yes, more than friends, I think I'd be picking up enemies.

Crossing the border, travelling in Tibet was a marvellous experience. The Tibetan plateaus had an aura of mysticism all around. As we went further and further, all we could see around us were mountains and clouds. Thick clouds in many shapes and sizes. There appeared in front of us an Om on the blue sky which was clearly visible to everyone. It was like someone had written it there with a white marker. Then we saw the shape of Hanuman with mrithasanjeevini on his hands. We could clearly see the shape of Ganesha writing in a book. There appeared a Shiva linga and a serpant. It could be hallucinations. It could be the mind’s way of tricking people. But in the same way for everyone in a group? I don’t know. There aren’t any explanations. When we sat on the banks of Brahmaputra (Tsangpo in Tibet), having our lunch there, we were wondering if this was the spot where Shiva used to play with his friends. Was I really touching the offspring of the great Brahma?

A circumambulation of the pious Manasarovar in the bus was unsatisfactory. It was just a two hour tour. What I longed for was a walk around the river... To see if Parvathy still came for her holy dip... To watch the gunas and apsaras coming for a bath...  But a dip in the holy water cleared all the thoughts and worries. It was freezing cold, but the feeling was ambrosial. It imparts a kick which no other drugs can give. It was here, in Manasarovar, that if you are lucky enough, you will get the first view of Mount Kailash. While we were having our dip, the whole area was covered in mist. While completing the circumambulation, suddenly the driver showed us a wonderful sight. Amongst the mountains in front of us, one particular mountain was shining beautifully in silver. Yes... our first view of Kailash... Eyes filled with tears of joy, heart filled with love, we could just watch it in awe with dim eyes and overflowing heart. In spite of the biting cold, my body was scorching hot. By now, goosebumps had risen all over my body. Somewhere in my previous birth, I might have done something good to behold such a wonderful sight. Night stay at Manasarovar was an experience. My friends woke up at 12 to see stars taking their dip. The Sherpas had told us that we could see the stars taking bath in the river. Most of us were awake to see the sight and they claimed to have seen almost 12 stars falling into the water and going back to the sky. Well, I missed the sight. Of all the nights, that night I surrendered myself to a deep peaceful sleep.

Kailash Parikrama was an experience. I wanted to walk through the mountains. I didn’t want to take a horse. Walking along the mountains, you will feel that you are all alone in this world. But Kailash towers protectively on your right, warding off all your worries and fears. What is there to be scared of when He himself is standing just next to you? After a long trek, when I hit the bed tiredly, I heard a loud cheer from outside. People were asking everyone to come out to see another miracle. There, in the snowclad Kailash, the snow had fallen in such a way that when you look from down, you could see the form of Sirdhi Saibaba sitting and having a chat with a man standing nearby holding a Trishul in his hands. Who else, but the lord of the mountains!!!! What a divine site...  Again, maybe the hallucinations of the mind... But, all at once for everyone? I don’t know.................

While coming back, we all were in a trance. We couldn’t believe that we were trekking to the middle of the world. We couldn’t believe that we really did it... It was really a once in a lifetime experience, in one of the most beautiful spots of both the real and mythological world, expunging away all the worries and tensions, sucking in all the freshness, and a new life. There is a saying, “When you fall in love with the mountains, they keep calling you again and again.” Absolutely. Once you have lived with them for any length of time, you belong to them. There is no escape................................

 

Eschewed Whispers..........

Two scores of my life, I had been making sacrifices in life. Everyone around me was living their life as they wished. Not me. I had to bow to the orders of people around me. My wishes were entombed. My likes, my wishes, my dreams... no one even cared about it. I was just a puppet. I was the one always to yield.  I had to give up on my life to make others happy. I had to abandon the ambitions that I had aspired. All I had got was a NO in capitals for all I had longed for. Learn music? NO... Learn violin? NO... Learn painting? NO NO NO... Why? Why was I denied of all my wishes? I still remember searching for a violin teacher, and after finding an old man of around 60 years ( 60 was very very very old for a 13 year old), when I asked him to come home and speak to my folks, the commotion they made! Did they think I would run away with this old guy? And the art teacher near my home... How I had yearned to get trained in oil painting from him!! But with his long beard, a long bag and a glowing cigarette stub in between his fingers, he was also not acceptable. Whatever I had wanted to do was put forward to the Head Quarters. And the HQ decided if I should do it or not. Even though I was excellent in Maths, with an immense passion for language, I had wanted to take up Journalism as my career.  But HQ decided commerce. Not maths, not literature, but commerce.... I didn’t even apply for commerce. I just reported to the HQ that I didn’t get a seat.

I was not a weak hearted person. There was a rebel inside me too. But I carefully shoved it down underneath. Words could flow only from my pen... It always failed to come out from my mouth. My body agreed, my mind obliged... but my heart exploded. And none saw it. I was living a lie quelling my dreams. I was like a robot with many hands holding the remote. Why did I let others dominate me? I am not a person who ever bother what the world will think of what I do. Still I danced to their tunes. Why? I think it’s a part of loving people. I had made others happy with my compromises. But I had started to feel somewhere between self pity and self hatred about myself.

Still I moved on. I can’t say that I hadn’t settled in life. I did. But again, on the terms and conditions of the people around me. I was getting fed up. I was feeling frustrated. When people tell you what to do even after 40 years, when you still have to report to the HQ on each and every happening of your life, life becomes a suffering. I had to get out from this maze. If I won’t live now, when will I ever live for myself? When will I ever fulfil my dreams? It’s true that your body won’t be able to catch up with your mind’s pace. But it will reach. Slowly but steadily. I am now free from those domineering clutches. Life begins at 40. And so, I am born again... to live my life as I want...

Driving Whispers........

 

 

I am back on board. Had been roaming around with my new found freedom and confidence. There was no looking back. But suddenly, I felt a tug. Something was wrenching me backwards. Should I go back? Or should I keep on moving forward? The fire in my belly was too much...

 

I have been trying to conquer all my fears in the last few years of my life. I had been      labelled by my family as someone who was afraid of no one. Yes, true. I have never been scared of any human being. And that had earned me the nickname, The Rock-Hearted. But deep in my mind, I had unrevealed fears. Fears which I had never let anyone see. Fears which I took great pains to camouflage under a thick wrap.

 

The first time I knew what real fear was when I was just 10 years old. I had been getting slowly imported to the alluring world of books. I had begun to live in my own fantasy world of  'Chandamama'. My palace was at times under the sea  or above the clouds. My handsome prince used to come either on a white horse or riding a chariot. I was enveloped by fairies and wizards. Even the littlest wish was executed. Life was beautiful. And so were the people around me. It was then that I got hold of an abridged version of  Bram Stoker's 'Dracula'. I was totally mesmerised by the Count, I strolled in the Carpathian mountains, I shifted my home to Transylvania. I was in a trance. Leafing through until the last page, everything was enchanting till night. Living in a house near a railway track, the blaring yell of a passing train made me jump from my sleep. When I opened my eyes, all I could see were some moving silhouettes outside the window. The curtains were dancing furiously as though somebody was venting all of his anger on it. I was sleeping near my grandma. I couldn't lift a finger to call her. My body became completely numb. My hands were frozen, and I was sweating profusely. I tried to open my mouth, but my lips were glued tightly. I was shivering like a leaf in a storm. I couldn't sleep. I was not able to close my eyes, nor was I able to look outside the window. That terrible night!!!.... But for the next night, I was ready. I filched my mother's hairpins, and  checked with my pencil box's magnet that it was made of  iron. I took two each and made crosses. I made crosses with a broom stick too, and placed it all under my pillow. Yes, I was all set to confront my dracula. Iron and cross.. Now nothing could harm me. I slept peacefully that night. But the commotion made by my staunch conservative Hindu grandma after seeing those many crosses under the pillow.......................

 

I had this fear of standing in a crowd. A crowd always made me panic. I used to be really uncomfortable. I was not sure what to talk to others. I felt that people were judging me... felt that they were looking at my round face, round nose, round body.. I thought that they were criticising my appearance. I was scared to talk to a crowd. I became self-conscious. Slowly I retreated to myself. I made my own cocoon and was comfortable inside the shield. I was happy with myself. I used to curl up in my swing cot with a book in my hand. I never bothered to come down and meet visitors at home. Even to relatives I became a stranger. Because of this fear, I was not ready to do things that I loved to do. What if people will gather and look at me with those criticising eyes? Little did I know that those so called people had so much other things to do than waste their time on criticising me. But I wasted my childhood with this fear in mind. I knew I should change. I knew I should come out. And I did.. after a very long time... I had to have a long fight with myself to get rid of this affliction.

 

Water was another thing which gave me a cold feet. As a child, I was lovingly offered swimming lessons from two of my sweet aunts.. one from my mom's side, and one from my dad's side. And both of them literally put me inside the pond. That was it.. Water and me became lifelong enemies. We couldnt bear to see each other face to face. I was scared even to stand under the shower. The water from the shower directly on my face suffocated me. Only rains could soothe me. Those little droplets cooled my inner fire. It was then I got a friend from Iran.. a swimming coach. We made a deal. I should teach her English and she would teach me how to swim. Thus, one fine morning, while having breakfast, I announced to my family my decision of joining a swimming class. I saw my husband choking his food. But diplomatically he kept quiet. He knew the consequences. But my kids couldnt control themselves. "Amma, you are forty!!!" My little one spurted out. If looks could kill someone, mine would have killed him then. "So what???" I asked him carelessly. "Life begins at forty.." "But you will have only ten more years................" I pretended not to see the nudge my husband gave him under the table. I could already feel my confidence starting to drain. "Are you going to wear the proper swimming costume?" was his next worry. "I'm thinking if I should buy a single piece or double piece" was my parting shot. I loved the expression on my husband's face. It took me three months to get fully inside the water. My friend could talk in English very well by that time. But still I hadn't started to float. But slowly, I got it. I could drift on my own. The feeling was heavenly. I was no more scared of water. And I could really swim atleast a few laps. That was more than enough for me.

 

The next thing that made me shiver was driving. Even though I had my driving license, I was scared to touch the steering. I could never get the ABC co-ordination into my brain. I used accelerator instead of clutch and clutch instead of brakes. And to top the cake, there was this gear changing too... I used to dream of driving on busy roads, but it remained just a dream. One day, my mom's friend's son, who was then six foot two inches offered me to teach how to drive without fear. I sat in the driver's seat, and gripped the steering. He was on the passenger seat, with his long legs stretched towards my side on the clutch and brake. And we took off... We drove in and around Thrissur, through all those busy roads, and overtook my driving master who was having his next batch of students. He proudly showed me to them.. "See, I taught her driving. How confidently she drives now... " If ever he found out that only the hands on the steering were mine, and the rest of the control was being done by my tall friend, he would have got an immediate cardiac arrest....

 

And thus, my driving continues. My drive to crush and trash my apprehensions. My drive to gain more confidence. I know I am braver than I believe, stronger than I seem, and smarter than I think......................................