Sleepless Whispers...

A date with midnight everyday is an ecstasy. Sleep and me were playing hide and seek right from my childhood. She hides and I seek. Persistently. Not even once she’s come seeking me. I still don’t understand why sleep always keeps a distance from me. Thoughts always prioritised. I dreamt lying awake. My mind begs my brain to stop thinking and allow me to sleep. But... it recollects all the stupid things I had done, and the foolish decisions I had taken and reminds my mind, and scorns. And the fight starts. Brain commands, Mind evades. Brain chides Mind cries. Brain scowls, Mind howls.

Going to bed is a nightmare. I lie down, and snuggle inside my blanket. My mind, then, slowly pops its head up, and starts to wander. Then it pokes my brain. And in a split second, my brain springs up... and starts teasing my mind. Yes, my mind has always been a fool. I had been lucky till late not to lose it altogether. But off late, I am not so sure. I would be counting the sheep, I would be singing to myself, I toss, I turn, I grumble, I mumble... 

Is it because I am awake in someone else’s dream that I am unable to sleep? I’ve read somewhere that if you can’t sleep, your soul mate can’t sleep either. So somewhere, someone also might be lying awake now? When and where can I meet you, my dearest soul mate? Are you out there somewhere, hiding from me? 1.00am monitors all my thoughts. 2.00 am knows all my secrets. 3.00 am gives me answers to most of my questions. 

And then leisurely, unhurriedly, sleep walks in. When it’s almost dawn.. like a punishment... leaving me with a heavy head, and a heavier heart....................

Unmatchable Whispers...

Karna, the unmatchable...

It was my dad who first told me about Karna. “Be like Arjuna”, he said. “Be honest, be brave, and be bold enough to face the truth”, he continued, after our bedtime story session. But that was Karna, I argued. The bold, the brave, and the enigmatic was not Arjuna, but the one and only Karna. It was at that moment, I realised that I was falling in love... In love with the matchless, inexplicable villain of our great epic!!!

If ever I get an opportunity to have a rendezvous with any of those imaginary characters I fantasy, I would, any day, any time, choose Karna... Abandoned by his own mother, mortified by his gurus, disgraced by his peers, the valiant warrior was always tormented and abashed.  His eyes would have reflected the humiliations he had gone through.  When he was about to prove that he was much much better than Arjuna in archery, his heart would have been crushed beyond repair when the so called gurus insulted him and sent him back.  When Draupadi ridiculed him in front of many, how terrible it would have been for him to retreat with his swollen pride!! If she had chosen him, her life would have been a million times better. He would have treasured her preciously. He would never ever have allowed anything or anyone to hurt her even a little.

Temptations and obstacles failed to terrify this majestic hero. Whatever happened, he stood by his word till he breathed his last. If he had set his mind, he could have become the unrivalled emperor. He was supreme to all in arms and weaponry. He could have got whatever he had wanted. But he never cheated. He was never shrewd. He never lied. He never played any dirty games. He never begged anyone to spare him. Still he was labelled as the villain.

No one saw the pain in his eyes. No one saw how he hung his head down in shame many a times. No one bothered to wipe out that tear drop which refused to come out from his eyes.... What did he do to deserve such hatred? Was it because of his loyalty to the one and only person who had loved him and spared him from his humiliation? Was it because when many pleaded with him for Arjuna’s life, he agreed not to kill him? Was it because he gave away his armors and hoops to Indra knowing well that he was inviting his own death? If he was wrong, then what about Arjuna killing him when he was helpless without his chariot and weapons? What about all the other slaughters of Bheeshma, Jayadrada, Duryodana and Drona? Is this Dharma?

 If this is Dharma, then, My Karna, you don’t belong in this world. But Karna, you can be proud of yourself. You are majestic, par excellence. You tower before others with your unrivalled personality. You are you, my dear.. The one and only enigmatic, unmatchable KARNA ...................................................

Bookish Whispers.....

The journey of the wanderlust vagabond in me took off with the monthly magazine Chandamama. It was with this book I began my first step to the land of fantasies. It opened a window to a wondrous world of magic, mystery, wild imagination, legendary icons, love, battle. In that world, I was never alone. I had lots of princes, princesses, kings, queens, soldiers, magicians and many others around me. I used to dream of a huge palace under the sea, and would imagine a handsome prince coming out of the sky to whisk me away. I used to think of myself as a fairy or a mermaid. I was intrigued, induced and influenced. It was there I fell in love with Karna. It was there I was attracted to the deep passion of Shiva, and the playful naughtiness of Krishna.

I slowly stepped ahead to the land of Amar Chitra Kathas. There I met many legends, and they surrounded me with their valour and wisdom. I became Jhansi Rani, Uloopi, Vasavadatta, Amarapali, and who not!!! I took part in various battles, and was a witness to many a love affair. The epics were simplified, and mythological characters got life. Again there was Karna who used to tempt me.

I treaded further. I used to have crosses made of broomsticks under my pillow to ward off Count Dracula. Walking further, I met Enid Blyton and Hardy boys. Somehow I was not lured by those famous five and secret seven. I was after Frank and Joe Hardy. I travelled with them, solved many cases, and envisioned myself as a detective. I learned never to lose my nerve ever...

During my teens, the romantic in me peeped out. I was surrounded by M&Bs and Harlequins. Charlotte Lamb and Danielle Steele lured me into their lives. I started to dream. I was floating through the lives of many, and was waiting for a lived happily ever after life. It was about at the same time I met Tess. I went with her to meet Mrs d’Urberville, I cried with her when she buried Sorrow. I waited with her for her Angel, and was with her when she murdered Alec. Tess was my stepping stone to the land of classics. I religiously followed Charles Dickens. Estella sounded like a sweet song. I was waiting my chance to stab Scrooge. I became a hardcore fan of Pappilion, empathised with Scarlett O Hara, and made The Thorn Birds my Bible. Sidney Sheldon and Irving Wallace haunted me. Robert Ludlum tramped on my nights. Jane Austen persuaded me to Northanger Abbey and Mansfield park. I wanted to kick Darcy many a times. Then came Jane. The sweet Jane Eyre. Rochester was, is, and will be a dream. I used to feel jealous when Jane went to Rochester’s room. When his bedsheet caught fire, I remember reaching there before Jane. There was a fire inside me too. Then came Alex Hailey to change me altogether. Me, an introvert, who never looked at anyone’s face, who never used to talk to any relatives, started looking out for them to patch up the distance. But having already labelled me as arrogant and proud, they were reluctant to come near me. It took me years to become one among them.

There are many, many more, who came in and went out from my life. Being an only child, books and authors were always my best friends. I literally lived on words. I moved from one page to another. They made me observe the human mind. I tasted a lot, devoured many, chewed some, and digested a few. It comforted and consoled me. I travelled all over the real and imaginary world without even a single step. They made me laugh, they made me cry. They made me tensed, they made me calm. They made me talk with the dead, and live with the unreal. They gave me space to fold myself inside their pages. And I live, folded, breathing the words, waiting... for more..................

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.....