Aboard this long, moving train,
What are we chasing?
Windows of opportunities,
Some constant amidst the changing landscapes,
A break from the rhythmic monotony
Or mere doors for escaping?
The momentary pleasure of company
In this journey of solitude
Moving incessantly, to a destination unknown
Leaving behind the trees,
Competing with the streams
Traversing the valleys, gaining the altitude
The heart smiles in rainbows,
Weeps with the rain
We exchange stories and anecdotes
Of might and valor and pride
Of pleasure and of pain
What are we chasing?
The musing leaves me distraught
When the motion suddenly ceases,
My brain finally eases
As the engine whistles,
Breaking the train of thought
Is it rightto let go and step out of the picture, when it starts getting too abstract; when it doesn’t look as you’d imagined; or must you stay and keep trying to find some interpretation, force some vague clarity out of the mess?
Instagram- @the_pixelated.palette
After pondering for a long, long time, I started a painting; Taking myriads of different shades and tones and tints, Having a perfect visual note of what it’ll look like, I held a blank canvas, and started tainting.
Absolutely drowned in the colours, in the strokes; My hands were flowing, Acquiescently marking lines and shapes and dots, Until the picture didn’t match the imagination, And then suddenly, the brain revokes.
I stop, stare and wonder; When did my perfectly planned painting, Turn into this abstract image Which line was a mistake, which stroke, a blunder?
Standing still, deep inside the canvas now, Should I step out of my perfect painting? Or force some vague clarity out of the chaos? Must I let go of the brushes; if yes, how?
Finally, out of the colours I leap A last view, of the version the mind manifested, And the one that reality painted; Then turning to a new, blank canvas, The old one too, I decide to keep.
“It’s been 30 years since the end of the COVID-19 pandemic, what does the world look like?”
(I wrote this poem for the Queen’s Commonwealth Essay Competition, organized by the Royal Commonwealth Society. I’m super happy and grateful to have received the Silver Award for my entry. A big thank you to the people who took out some of their precious time to read my poem and give me feedback on my writing; several drafts later, this is the final version that I submitted. Hope you enjoy reading it :))
I travelled back in time to 2020, When I found that old, worn-out mask, In the pocket of what used to be, My favorite pair of jeans. All faces veiled by those tiny pieces of cloth, Only the eyes, subtly conveying human emotions, Those vague interactions were much craved for, When real faces were replaced by pixels on screens.
I travelled back in time to 2020, As I left to tour the Earth, Our beautiful, magnificent Earth, Free of pollution and exploitation, (Not just out of a lockdown this time) After the solitary confinement from 30 years back, We know better, about not missing a moment to live, We’re aware now, of the uncertainty, even in the word certainty
I travelled back in time to 2020, While returning home from a funeral, Sharing grief! A very natural, basic right it seems. Having so many shoulders to cry on, Hugs and caresses, before the silence starts to shout, It reminded me of what a privilege even that was, Bidding adieu to a loved one, Virtual condolences, without closure, Without getting to hold on one last time, our beloved who’s gone.
I travel back in time to 2020, When news of traces of new viruses flashes, Even years after the invisible demon has vanished, Of course, we worry- “That’s how the last one started.” With small pieces of news to a global pandemic within months Thankfully, governments and people know better now. And these pieces of news remain just that, As they are early on banished.
I travel back in time to 2020, Every time I see people, working together, Excitement and apprehensions for a new day at work, Visible on their faces. Reminds me, Of how much we longed to dress up, walk to work, During that long span of two years When bedrooms became offices, When jobs were lost, When livelihoods were threatened And many people survived on the bare minimum only
I travel back in time to 2020, Whenever I look at my arm, It reminds me of that mild pain, Sweet pain, I’d say. It finally showed light, At the end of what felt like an endless tunnel. What started as a blame game, Turned into a common victory, Proving even the worst storms can be weathered, when nations unite!
I travel back in time to 2020, Even now. Three decades might be a long time, Seemingly enough to forget those two years, But so many instances, still take us back to the past. Simply throwback to a very different, unusual time for some, A montage of triggering, unsettling memories for others, The virus; yes, a virus, left an impact, An impact meant to last. I travel back in time to 2020, Just thinking, how lives were upturned, Families, homes, uprooted How the lockdown meant to save lives, Became the reason for people battling against hunger. Thinking, how a hospital bed, Something as vital as the oxygen we breathe, Became a scarce resource, a privilege.
I travel back in time to 2020, When I see the new, reborn world. Somewhat changed entirely, somewhat the same as before. The new normal, from 30 years back, has paved its way to today’s normal, But so have the old ways, the pre-pandemic ways. The smartest technologies we could have imagined, Robots, of course, our intellectual kins, Have made lives so easy, But yet, having realized how greatly important the human element is, It’s always the human heart that wins. We see students, going to actual schools, Sustainable lifestyles, habits, That were born during the pandemic, Continue to thrive! With strengthened economies and societies, I see a forever growing, evolving world, Adapting, reflecting on the past, Without compromising the present, And with the future insight
Today, you turn 90, and even though, in the last few months, you might have lost the excitement for it, I still remember how you’d recalculated your age last year, and said, “I’m 90!” and how I had corrected you- “No, you’re 89 this year, wait till next year to hit 90.”
I asked you yesternight, what you’d like to do on your birthday, if you’d like me to get a packet of Kurkure for your cheat snack, or dance with me in front of the TV as we used to do, or donate grains and ration to temples as you used to do, but you said you just wanted to rest calmly, peacefully, adding- “Of course, I’ll bless you all when you come to wish me.”
Your health is not allowing you to be the cheerful, always jolly person that you are, but I have many memories of you spreading that cheer, which I’ll cherish forever. Your hands, holding mine while cutting my birthday cake every year; your endless collection of bedtime stories, which I’d never get bored of, and even when I did start complaining about the repetitive tales, the impromptu anecdotes you’d make to keep me entertained; your childlike demands for sweets and junk food, which we’d reluctantly allow you to have despite the doctor’s strict instructions; your excitement to meet and talk to my friends; your strong will power, and your pep talks to anyone who ever feels low; your friendly banter with grandma; your eagerness to help me with my studies, especially for Hindi lessons; your pride when I’d get good grades even in unimportant tests; your stubbornness when I’d fight with you over the TV remote; your tolerance when I’d come to your room and insist that you listen to me singing, even when you just wanted to concentrate on your rosary and meditate; your daily evening strolls in the park; your funky faces you’d make while taking selfies with me, and even your crankiness and your petty arguments.
You have probably started forgetting these things, when you even tend to forget if you had breakfast or not, or when you also forgot once that the AC doesn’t play music (yes it’s hilarious and sad at the same time) but for me, these moments are ingrained in me, and a major part of my life is made of them!
I will try and make you read this, but I don’t know if you’ll read it with the same enthusiasm as you used to for all my writings earlier, but anyway, this was to pen down my love and appreciation for you, for the person who grew me up and contributed immensely to my life, as he probably did for so many others around him!
You went by too quickly, yet you seemed like forever. You gave us precious time to spend with our loved ones, but you also distanced us from people we saw everyday. You taught us to enjoy the little things, to slow down, and you also taught us that no matter what the times bring, life must go on, we must mold ourselves. You made us try new things, things which wouldn’t fit in normal routines, and you allowed us to recollect and reconnect with some of the old ones, the ones which were lost in the crowds of other, seemingly more important things. You obstructed us from exploring places this year, from checking destinations off our bucket lists, but you gave us a chance to observe our own beautiful surroundings, which very often went unnoticed. You taught us to hope for better, hope for sunshine after consecutive gloomy days and you taught us to be grateful , even for a single ray of light through the dark clouds. You were, an unusual, a tough year for all of us, more for some than others, but you were definitely a blessing for the earth, giving it a break, some time to rejuvenate.
Monsoon mornings are very special to me, not because of any other factors, but the mornings themselves. It’s the time the air smells clean, petrichor accompanying every sway of wind, sometimes slight drizzles from the trees shook by the wind touches me, the white flowers of the creeper-canopy embellish the grass, and the bamboo wind chime creates the subtle sound which takes me to an entirely different place.
Langkawi, a group of islands off the northern coast of Malaysia is a very quiet tourist destination, I wouldn’t call it underrated as tourism is very lively there…but it never seemed chaotic. It’s as though the chanter of the mob, even the presence was absorbed by the green mountains which surround Langkawi, and only a faint echo could be felt. One thing I’ve noticed is, unlike other tourist spots, I don’t associate Langkawi with the places I visited, but the feelings I felt. Every day there, felt so fresh, perhaps it was my tourist mind that created the feeling, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the place itself was the reason. Our cottage, a cabin in the evergreen forest, was surrounded by huge trees, which created a patter on the roof with the coming of every subtle breeze. Every afternoon, say around 4, the sky would shower upon us. What made it the peaceful place it is, was probably the fact that honking without reason, even speaking very loudly in public, was highly frowned upon there perhaps even punishable, as we were told.
The eagle square, a popular attraction because of the huge eagle sculpture, which also serves as the emblem of the island (Langkawi comes from helang -eagle and kawi -reddish brown) was our first destination as far as I remember. The next morning at the beach by our resort was a perfect start to a perfect day. The foggy evening at the popular sky bridge was peaceful and adventurous. The green tops from the bridge, faded because of the dense fog looked very serene. After a tiring descend from the bridge, we visited the museum of 3D art, which had enormous rooms which took us inside the paintings. My words are insufficient to explain how real it looked, so here are some pictures to support my description. The day was concluded with a beautiful night at the market street, where I was too excited to play with a cat outside a restaurant, which enjoyed getting treats from the customers every now and then. That’s where we bought the wind chime, from a little store full of beautiful artifacts.
Museum of 3D illusions.Yes! All of those are paintings.
The best day at Langkawi surely, was the island hopping, literally. We seated ourselves in a little speed boat, and zoomed in the turquoise water, going from one island to another. At the first we swam and I was almost left behind because I was too engrossed in collecting corals, which came in my feet with every step. The next was a quiet place, not at any island but in the middle of the ocean, where the boat stopped so that we could see a lot of eagles circling and swooping around in circles, sometimes even gliding in the waves and giving us a close view. Last but my favorite was the island where we dived in green lagoons. It looked very scary to me honestly, for the freshwater lagoons, surrounded by green mountains, looked deep green. As we jumped, we sunk down in the water and were suddenly pulled up, thanks to the life jackets. We ended up doing that multiple times,it was so much fun. I’ll always remember Langkawi as the place with the clear, turquoise waters, with green mountains, and the freshest atmosphere and I’m super thankful for the wind chime in my garden, which takes me to the lovely island every now and then.
Adapting to changes is never easy, but it is necessary. Just like every other sector, teaching has also witnessed a shift to virtual platforms and as difficult it is for us, students to not be physically in a classroom; not have our friends around us and not have a teacher who can snap fingers at us while we are distracted or re iterate entire topics just by looking at our confused faces, it is perhaps equally if not more challenging for the educators. Their classes begin without the warm greetings now, they teach without seeing our head nods which indicated we aren’t lost and understand what they have been saying, without being chased by students for doubts, without giving us the random life lessons in between the classes and without our annoying chatter.
While teaching us through a screen, they are learning too, getting more and more tech savvy and however troublesome that might be for them, they take the classes with full dedication. They are coping with our notorious pranks on the online platforms, very calmly; they are looking for ways to bring all elements of real classrooms to our screens.
Thank you teachers, for being so patient with us…hope we’ll meet in the classrooms again someday.
Contagious smiles or quivering lips, Which said the unspoken, Are now veiled behind masks. Hand shakes with strong grips, Are blocked by rubber sheaths Which cover the tender fingers now, For every single task.
Warm hugs are barred, No visitor without a purpose No shoulder to lean on, Because of the vacant seat beside, Oh! Distancing is so hard.
School ceases to be an actual place Computers have replaced buses, ironically, To ferry the virtual school to us, Getting dressed up for work is lame Anyway, they'll just be seeing your face.
Every day before hitting the sack, I wonder if this is the new normal, Because if it is, Hey abnormal life, I want you back!
“It was made familiar to us like any other piece of news,
It kept growing day by day.
It felt unreal and unimaginable
Until we realized it was going to stay.”
The corona virus pandemic is growing as I write about it and it has brought everyone’s lives to a standstill. While we stay at home, quarantining, self isolating and distancing from each other, our minds are occupied, thinking of the uncertainty of the situation, thinking of the change which will set in after these times are gone and of how we can be prepared for such an epidemic in the future( or if at all we can be prepared ).
After the news of the 21 day lock down in India has come out, all I can think of is not what I’m going to do during these days but of what would happen after these 21 days. This lock down has surely made us take a pause in our lives, given us time to stop and think, and actually learn to value time. It has brought us from planning our lives around calendars to losing a count of the days in a week. In the hustle of our busy lives, all we wait for is a holiday, we often find excuses for not being able to take out time for our passions, our families, or for just looking around us; but now when life has come to a halt, when for once the clocks seem to have stopped and we’ve started engaging ourselves in new stuff, it never seems to fill the time. This is pretty evident when I, spend hours gazing at a kitten playing in my garden (well I would have done that anyway I guess) or when my dad watches old classics and documentaries on the television.
We used to seek time for the things we loved, And now, we seek those lost interests for the time we have.
A walk till the end of our colony gave us a view of the totally empty road outside, silent, deserted and for once relieved from the never ending movement. The data from countries which are hit harder keeps on giving us a reality check, so that we continue to remain serious about this issue, so that we are reminded that it is happening and it may reach us. Due to the lock-down, the pollution levels all over the world have drastically reduced, it’s as though just like us, even the earth has gotten a break, it’s as though it was a way to give nature time to replenish itself. I wonder if after the passage of this difficult time, will we revert back to the original, will nothing change. Gray clouds and rain in my hometown seem to dampen an already slow week. I realize now, how we fail to acknowledge how important it is to stay connected to the people who matter to us, just because we are privileged to see them every day. Currently, playing games like psych or just video calling my friends brings such a huge smile on my face. It makes me learn to value the little things in life, which I hope to keep coming back to even after this phase passes. Let us all hope to defeat the invisible enemy attacking our world, stay inside, and stay safe.
It has almost been three years since I visited the Leh district in Ladakh, and I just can’t get over it. It is a place which remains in my heart forever, it is a place which calls me again, cause once is never enough to see all that it has to offer. A cold desert in the northernmost part of India, Ladakh is rich in its cultural heritage. The hilly areas don’t have a single tree, but the valleys are dotted with willow and poplar trees. A feature which appears the most appealing to me is the perfect blue sky,probably because that place has no pollution and of course due to the thin air. Due to the lack of oxygen in Ladakh ,it is advisable to spend the first day at ease in your accommodation. We did the same, just taking a stroll till the local market of Leh in the evening.There were shops selling dry fruits, shawls, souvenirs and vegetable vendors occupied the pavements. There was amazing street food and as Indoris do, we were hogging on hot jalebis and kachoris!
The next day was spent touring the various Buddhist monasteries like the Thiksey monastery, Hemis monastery, Shey monastery and the Diskit monastery. Their walls were so intricately designed and it was so tranquil that we could hear the rustling of the cool winds of the desert. Buddhist flags lined all the roads, which looked very serene. We could see the distant snow covered mountain tips from the delicately carved windows. The third day was a road trip to Nubra valley, situated along the banks of the river Shyok. There, we could find the little vegetation of Leh. Some areas were covered with white sand, where two humped camels-llamas roamed. We stayed overnight at a quaint little inn.The following day began with a morning walk, where we met really cute Ladakhi kids. Some waited at their stops for their school bus and shyly smiled at each other when we waved at them.
Then we left for the most awaited place- The Pangong lake. On our way, I had my first experience touching snow, which we found around the Chang la pass. The water of the lake presented all different shades of blue one could think of. The water was crystal clear and every angle presented a picturesque view. We had our dose of photo shoots and enjoyed walking around, while the strong,cool winds entered our ears.We retreated back to our hotel in Leh-‘The Grand Dragon’. That evening,we went to shop in the Leh market. My father and I explored beautiful artifacts from a Tibetan refugee store as my mother looked at the fine Pashmina shawls. The last day in Leh, we went for river rafting, my first experience of a water sport. It was in icy cold water, with strong currents and I was shivering for most of the time(with fear and cold). After getting out of the raft, the sunlight felt so nice and warm. It was terrifying, but worth the adrenaline rush. This marked the end of our trip to Ladakh and I hope to be back in the rugged terrain soon.
Shruti's Blog 
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