Nuclear Happened To Us For A Reason

You know even after not knowing the culture you can talk with so much of depth you are good to go. What is important is how you approach things. Culture to some extent teaches you that. You chose your fight and your teachings are weapons to it. Your pen is your religion, my friend. At least after talking to you for a while, I can say that.

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It was 12 am, I was smoking the last puff of my advanced sitting in the varanda of my room at an IIT-K hostel when I heard a knock on my door. I opened the door thinking that it will be Shivi, however, to my surprise there were two guys whom I haven’t met.  One of them looked like an idiot and another one a gentleman.

Before I ask them anything, the idiot asked me, “Hey, I am Vivaswat and the batchmate of your roommate Chirag. Chirag told me that you smoke, do you have an extra cigarette?”

Vivaswat came to the room and jumped on Chirag like a monkey. No wonder he looked like one of their breeds. Nevertheless, there was something about the other guy. He was calm, had a smile on his face and looking at him the only thing I could make out was he was a Bengali. I gave them the remaining two advanced telling him that I will see you at the conference the other day. But I kept thinking about the other guy as it seemed that he is an artist. He had a different kind of aura — the one like the stillness of the mountains and the depths of the ocean.

The next day at the conference I came to know they were from UPES and were no different from me. When I say no different it means that we knew nothing about Nuclear neither did we care about the Nuclear Security lectures. I bonded well with all of them, however, there was still the air of mystery about him until the time we decided to party together in Shivi’s room.

It is said that alcohol and cigarettes build the best bond and I think it was the same in my case. I was sitting outside in the verandah sitting with my beer and advanced and Aryamadev Das joined me. His name was Aryamadev Das and he was a Bengali. I greeted him with a smile and in response, he did the same. His smile had that warmth and a feeling of knowing each other since years.

He casually said, “Your cigarettes were the savior in this conference.”

Having a sip of my magnum I replied, “Cigarettes have always been my savior. Be it for running away from my problems or for giving me the strength to face them. By the way, why did you opt for Nuclear Engineering?” 

Das: “Well, I always had a soft corner of physics and so the course happened. I worked in an industry for a year and then thought of doing a PG. What about you?”

Me: “I never wished to take this course, I am a writer and wished to study philosophy after my mechanical engineering. However, parents didn’t allow me to and in the back of my mind, I made a decision to not to study mechanical again. Maybe, that is why nuclear happened. Moreover, I don’t see any scope for us in the near future.”

Das: “WOW, Vyombhai you are a writer. You have no idea how glad I am to meet someone like you after so long. I write poetry and Tagoredada is my ideal. Also, I do sing at times and a lot more into the culture. I do not where Nuclear field will lead us but I am glad IIT-K happened to me as I have met you.”

The way Aryamadev talks made me feel like I wish to listen to him just way I use to listen to my grandma’s stories. He has the quality to hypnotize you with his sweetness. He was a philosophical man with an individual approach towards leading his life.

Before, I could talk more, as usual Vivaswat came and snatched the cigarette from his hand getting angry for having more than one. When I asked why that time Das told me that doctor has refused him to smoke after the infection on lungs. I felt a little bad but I did not mind him having the other one as the way we were talking I wished that it continues for the entire night.

It was Janmasthmi the next day and IIT-K celebrates the festival in it’s truest essence that is what I have heard. It was 11:55 pm and I asked if anyone wants to join me to witness the birth of Lord Krishna. He was the first one to say yes. Also Vivaswat, Deepankar and Sai joined later.

I was walking with Das ahead and then I asked him, “What makes you write? I would love to read your poems. Though I do not know how to read Bengali.”

Das very humbly replied, “Vyombo, I would translate them to hindi for you. Also, my culture makes me write.  I took part in theatre and my family at every step made me realise the beauty of our culture. I have spent my childhood listening to the Panchatantra stories and poems of Tagore. Literature runs in my blood now. If today I stop writing or maybe even try to stay away from my culture, I know it will follow me as my soul is madly in love with it”

Me: “I wish I could say that. I am the one who hardly knows about my culture. I grew sitting with my study books and nothing else. Maybe, that is why a part of me seems to be missing.”

Das: “You know even after not knowing the culture you can talk with so much of depth you are good to go. What is important is how you approach things. Culture to some extent teaches you that. You chose your fight and your teachings are weapons to it. Your pen is your religion, my friend. At least after talking to you for a while, I can say that.”

He could directly see right through me at that time. At that time, I felt I was honest with someone after so long. We enjoyed the Janmashtami celebrations together and when in the line to take the prasad. He took two bowls of the sweet. I could not resist saying that no wonder you will loving sweets. He asked me what do I like to which I said anything except Rasgulla. Also, I haven’t tried the fish yet. He promised to treat me with a Pomphret fish and rice whenever I come to Kolkatta. His love and stories of Durgo Pujo intrigued to read more about Bengali culture. One thing I will have on my bucket list will be to attend a Pujo once in my life. The love for Durgo Pujo clearly showed Das’s attachment to his motherland and culture.

While returning he asked me, “Writers destroyed themselves in love. Have you been in love.”

I took a pause and answered with a smile, “I crave for one but somewhere trampled in order to see her happy.”

He didn’t ask me any further and said we share the same story and then shown me his engagement ring. It took a lot but you know wait for the right time, things will fall into place is what he said.

After reaching to the hostel I told him goodbye and went to my room with a smile. It was the smile of satisfaction. It was a smile of finding someone who fits into my theory of an ideal man. The man with typical Bengali eyes, with the complexion of Lord Krishna and the smile of kid, lives on the principles that he defines. It felt as if I know him from years.

Today, he is in France but we still exchange letters and talk about life in the most unexpected way and always there when we need each other.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Contradiction Of Delusion Is Another Delusion

In the end, I end up thinking is there any middle way? However, if I cut a false belief in two halves, it will just multiply. So now, instead of making choice of right and wrong, I will have 2 more perceptions i.e. to find right in wrong and vice versa.

What is wrong? What is right? Whose perception is more substantial than other? Who is better than whom? Why do we objectify these things when they are very subjective in nature. However, I am a person who is wavering through all these things and trying to make sense out of it.

For me, everything I hear or see feels the same. As soon as I try to categorize them, I feel like I am swaggering in the middle of the wooden bridge. When I make the choice of staying on one side of the bridge, the other end restricts my entry permanently and vice versa. By taking the side of the bridge I refer to my perception of right and wrong. And if I try to present them with reasons, all of sudden it no longer remains subjective.

Lately, I realise that selecting one side of the bridge is a delusion—a delusion which is intentionally created in order to make you feel guilty, anxious or even satisfied at times. However, the question is why do we always fall into the trap of this fallacy? Or are we forced to be a part of it? The mystery still lies in the philosophy of taking the stand of one thing.

We have always been told that you should tell what you feel. However, when you express the things, there is no guarantee that it will be taken in a good manner. It will be subjective from the point of view of the person to whom it is addressed. It is just like selecting one ice cream from two flavors which you hate equally. Yes, I suffer because of this, as it feels very contradictory in general and trying to find contradiction to this contradiction makes me fall into a greater version of delusion.

This delusion is the delusion of choice—the delusion where I think I have more than one choice. And if you fall into this trap, then the only way out is either take the beating or make no choice. Because how can you choose from something that is merely a false belief. A belief about which you know nothing. It is like you are in 6th std and you are sent to IIT tuitions so that you will crack JEE exams. It is delusion which contradicts the false belief of clearing JEE exams.

In the end, I end up thinking is there any middle way? However, if I cut a false belief in two halves, it will just multiply. So now, instead of making choice of right and wrong, I will have 2 more perceptions i.e. to find right in wrong and vice versa. This even complicates things to an extent that it is not possible to get out.

The mind says the only way to get out of this is too fucking not take any part in the game of right or wrong, truth or lie, reality, and fantasies or examining the efficacy of the substantiality of matter. Nevertheless, here principles come in between and tell how can you just run away from making a decision? Now, this is not a delusion, but it is a conscious effort to contradict all the contradiction of delusions in the name of principles and decisions. The conscious effort is again the subjective part of your mind which tells you to believe that your decisions are objective in nature.

In the end, I decided to take a vote, a vote which tells me to what extent I should fall into the trap of delusions. This again contradicts the theory of life and it goes on…

 

 

Dakota 2: Until the next time

Forget everything and go on a break. Take your car, go for a drive. Spend a little quality time in the lap of nature, have a beer maybe, and just absorb the beauty of your life. The more you connect with yourself, the better life becomes. Remember that delusions are temporary, but conscience is undying. Do not let it die. Do not die several times before you die.

In case you missed the previous part of Dakota, click here.


Final Episode

#1 Khanabadosh

ab jab tum jaa rahe ho to ek baat yaad rakhna, zindagi hamesha ek safar hai aur yea sab ko katna padta hai, par kuch log ke liye safar zindagi jeena hota hai. Aur tum unme se ek ho, tumhara safar ek aisa safar hai jo rooh ke saath ka hai.

Tumhare liye safar ek safarnama hai aur tumhe zinda rakhne ki jadibutti. Ab jaa rahe ho toh naye kisse kahaniya zarur laana.

Bindu is the person who loves travelling and her every breath is meant to travel. When she travels, she lives and when she lives, her aura makes that city look very beautiful. Every time when she travels, Bubla just waits for her return to listen to her stories. The best part is she always bring some gifts for him.

#2 Sukuniyat

usko dekh kar bas ek pal men sukuniyat mil gayi.

wo sunhare chumkhe, wo badi bindi, wo nashili aankhein, nila kurta and uski budbudati hasi, aisa mano ke usko aise dekhkar ek pal mein zindagi ji li.

Ae bindu tumne to ek pal mein puri zindagi ka ehsaas dila diya, tumne toh sukuniyat ka matlab samjha dia.

Well, we humans strive for peace every single moment and Bindu is someone who can make you realise what peace looks like in one single moment. The world stops on seeing her dressed so elegantly in simple kurti matched perfectly with the Indian flavour of bindi and oxidised silver earrings and that brown coffee bean likes eyes. Her smile is the measure of absolute peace.

#3 storm

My eyes were searching for her in the crowd and as soon as my eyes manage to spor her, I noticed that she was wearing a black Kurta with those big jhumkas and her hair tied with help of the stick that looked like a polised ivory sculpture stopped my world.

She was approaching me and I was still standing, still waiting for her to come and smile.

However, suddenly my eyes opened and it was 2 am in the night. Unlike, other days the night was scary still I was shivering maybe because of losing her in my dream.

He cannot get over her jhumkhas and her hippy look. And without her Bubla’s life is like a blank page so even in his dreams he does not let Bindu be alone.

#4 Her motto

Forget everything and go on a break. Take your car, go for a drive. Spend a little quality time in the lap of nature, have a beer maybe, and just absorb the beauty of your life. The more you connect with yourself, the better life becomes. Remember that delusions are temporary, but conscience is undying. Do not let it die. Do not die several times before you die.

A line from one of Bubla’s article.

This is what Bindu told me when he was struggling to find his own way through the narrow roads of his life.

There are many more things that Bindu said and it just made him feel like what else do you need when you have a best friend. Bindu told me believe in me.

However, I was always questioned that Who am I for Bindu?

Well, I am her mother, bestfriend, wingman and bridesmaid.

We have spent the entire journey of our friendship by fighting and making sure that we blame each other for it. We abuse each other so that we can love each other. We rant together for being single and we hang out together to live in a world, the world which Bubla calls as DAKOTA.

So, live with your memories, till I meet you again with more memories of Bubla with Bindu.


Some snippets when Bindu is praising Bubla.

“I am just going for couple of days. I will be back soon child.”

“You are my wingman, chodu.”

“Fuck, this was all because of you Pyomi. If you were not there, I would definitely failed.”

“I feel satisfied to see you performing in front of the crowd.”

“You are not alone. I am here no. I am always here.”

“If we are not close still you will not let me fall. You will throw a rope in my direction and hold me with that.”

The list is too long to be written

 

The end

 

Dakota 2: Tum Ho, Yeh Mehfil Hai Aur Apne Tarane (Scene from Ahmedabad)

Bubla took her to his favourite place where he finds solace and he sits quite often. They drove to SP ring road, to that place, his place, from where one could see the entire city. The time was around 7:30 pm and the songs tuned in were Kishore Kumar’s classic.

In case you missed the previous part, click here.


Episode 4

As soon as we reach mid way she said I want to get my hair’s straightened. Just stop at the nearby Salon and go and, ask the rates no. He was giving her dead stare for a minute and at last being helpless he went to Enrich-The salon to ask for rates of hair straightening.

“Excuse what is the rate of hair straightening for girls”

The woman giving me the same dead stare and in a sarcastic tone said, “If you have the enrich voucher then it is 1500 INR or else it is 3200 INR”

Listening to that I said thank you and thought of running super fast in the direction of the car. Seeing me coming like this in a speed of flash Bindu asked me, “BC, what happened?”

Bubla: “Chutiya samaj ke rakha hai in loko ne. It is 3200 INR for your fucking hair straightening and I am no way going to pay that much. Moreover, that woman was so sarcastic as if I am a chaprasi. You always put into this uncomfortable zone. You should die.”

Hearing this Bindu started laughing as if she is enjoying the moment and said, “Vyom BUBLA Desai, just look at your face. It looks like you have just pooped in your pants.  Sit, we will go to some other place.”

Bubla: “I am not going to take you at any other salons. We will go to the salon where you usually get it done after a short drive.”

Bindu: “But I am hungry and yes, get me some cigarettes no.”

Bubla: “I know you will ask for it as you were at your home for the entire day so I bought 10 already.”

Bindu: “Aww Bubla, What will I do with out you? Where the fuck is your AUX cable? and chiiii what kind of songs do you listen.”

She has this habit of getting angry at me anytime and ordering like I am her Ramu kaka. However, I cannot refrain from denying the fact I loved it as it made me feel special in many ways.

Bubla took her to his favourite place where he finds solace and he sits quite often. They drove to SP ring road, to that place, his place, from where one could see the entire city. The time was around 7:30 pm and the songs tuned in were Kishore Kumar’s classic. They both lighted the cigarette and refrained from speaking anything. Both of them were standing near the bridge watching it progress over the years. There was some different kind of peace that he saw in her eyes and probably the kind of peace he has never seen before.

Bindu: “I love Ahmedabad.”

Bubla: “At times, me too.”

They sat there for some 20 minutes and for the first time hardly spoke anything. Then she shouted that I need to get my hair straightening done,

Bubla: “You know what, I will become a very nice boyfriend.”

Bindu: “Only, if you get one and that is not going to happen.”

Finally after a lot of abuses and pointless arguments we reached the salon which had a board named Decent.

“Are you sure he is good. Aisa na ho straightening ke naam par chutiya kaar de.”

“Fuck off and come on follow me.”

We went inside the salon which was entirely a ladies salon and he was the only man sitting apart from one who was doing her straightening. Now, here the point was her straightening would take almost 45 minutes and till then he has to sit at that place. The point was he was not having internet pack on his phone and all he could do is to watch the beautiful face of a Dayan. After a while he started enjoying the look of her face because at certain points, she felt a little pain and her expressions use to change.

Bubla, feels so good when he see Bindu in this kind of situation. He was laughing and laughing and Bindu was giving that Amitabh Bacchan look from the movie Zanjeer.

Finally, it was done and they were to leave for their home. However, he wished how if they would have stayed a little longer. However, I will never forget that 20 minutes silence as eyes spoke better than words during that time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dakota 2: Tum ho, yeh Mehfil hai aur apne tarane

He extended his hand to reach her waist and she kept her hands on his shoulder. They both were smiling at each other as if they knew what that moment meant to them. They somewhere knew that it will not come again.  And at the point, it struck Bubla to enjoy every moment he has in his hands.

In case you have missed the second episode of Dakota, click here.


Episode 3

Scene #2

She commented on my photo, “I got my rainbow coloured umbrella?”

Bubla replied, “what about me?”

Bindu for the first time said, “We can share.”

and he went to the third thing that defines her that is the old songs and I just replied, “Then meet me soon, please. We can then dance to the tune of the songs of the Raj Kapoor. I forgot the movie name though.

Screenshot_20170728-232546.png
Just to make it look Better.

So Bubla has this habit of going back down the memory lane once he thinks that he said something amazing. He went back to the time when they had their first trip to Mumbai very recently.

A scene from Khar Socials

Bindu: “Tujhe kuch hua hai kya? aise gobi ke phul jaise shakal kyun banai hai?”

Bubla: “Nai, bas thodi health kharab hai. It feels like I am going to puke.”

Bindu: “You better do not drink now.”

Now Bubla has the habit of doing exactly opposite to what Bindu says, after all, all he does is he takes it on his ego.

Bubla: “Mein toh piyega. No matter how many time I go to puke I will drink.”

After 3 drinks and 4 vomits, Bubla was out of his mind and he could see Bindu dancing just like the way Hellen use to dance in the item song. (A compliment). The only difference here was that Bindu was the chubbier version of Hellen with full clothes and more beautiful than her. (Sorry for being Creepy) It was the first that he was seeing her dance and probably it was the first time that Bubla smiled so earnestly after 3 months.

Bindu came to have her beer and stood exactly next to Bubla and smiling at her. It seemed like it was his smile. He extended his hand to reach her waist and she kept her hands on his shoulder. They both were smiling at each other as if they knew what that moment meant to them. They somewhere knew that it will not come again.  And at the point, it struck Bubla to enjoy every moment he has in his hands.

He gets up, goes to Bindu and says, “Let us do cheaped wala steps and he is in love with the girl right behind her.” She caught up to his cheap steps so easily and at the same time totally judging him.  Then he followed the steps she did. We even didn’t know which step we were doing but it went on like from most cheap steps to break dance to slow motion. Bindu made Bubla dance keeping all his pain away and he danced like this after 2 years. At the same time, he managed to puke 6 times after 2 years. Well, that doesn’t even matter unless he was not okay.

If at any moment he goes numb then Bindu just stands beside him making him feel as he is safe. Bubla had his first trip in Bindu and he had his best time apart from train journeys. Because she sleeps like Kumbhkaran during the train journeys.

 

 

Bubla was just going back and making the layer of flashback of memories; it seemed like he was reliving the joy of that memories.

A scene somewhere in Ahmedabad

Bindu: “Meet me no. I am getting bored here at home plus I cannot drive as I hurt myself while running behind Aashil to hit him.”

Bubla: “Who runs with such a heavy body”

Bindu: “Who will take me out other than you. Come fast I am waiting.”

Bubla: “Will be there at your place in next 30 minutes but I will be in Wagon R.”

She comes with the big bandage on her left leg and looking at her he was not able to control his laughter. He continued to laugh till the time she sat in the car and shouted at him. She took the aux cable and started her all time favourite and at times boring play list.

As soon as we reach mid way she said I want to get my hair’s straightened. Just stop at the nearby Salon and go and ask the rates no. He was giving her dead stare for a minute and…


To be continued.

 

 

The Rise And Fall Of A Writer – 2

Did that phase where I was rising as a writer changed me? No, I was still the same during that phase. However, being an egoistic person there was a huge boost to my ego and it motivated me to write even better. 

If you have missed the first part of The Rise And Fall Of A Writer, click here.


Meanwhile, in the midst of this process, I got addicted to my addiction to nicotine. I use to lock myself from the world so that I can write about the philosophies of living the idea of an individual being the heroic being. However, one thing I missed out on was me entering the zone from where coming out is a difficult task. I had so many things to write that I forgot to experiment.

I kept on drafting and drafting the articles on Mind Mosaic without thinking of when it will be published. I use to improve from article to article but now that when I go back to the times I see I could have improved better. Abha always gave me the feedback about what I can improve in the next article. She always made sure that I do not repeat my mistakes again. However, there were some mistakes that remained the same. The only reason for this because I drafted so many articles at once.

Slowly, I realised that I was swinging in middle of my theories in the articles and my principles on which I use to live. They were two conflicting parameters that made me trample in my journey of learning during the times of Mind Mosaic. I think I was too late in realising this mistake as I saw my alter ego parted ways with my conscience. I had to choose one way, whether to stop writing for some time or follow the philosophies I write about. I chose the latter one but here the question arises is was my decision right? What if I would have gone with the first option?

By this time, the only different article I tried was to write a movie review which focuses more on the content of the movie. That was not a very successful attempt and I again went back to my comfort zone that is philosophy. In all these chaos the one good thing that happened to me was the people around me started accepting me as a writer. The criticism turned into respect — respect for not giving up. Abha always told that your content is very niche and that is something I like about it. And I was finally seeing myself as a writer and the person who has achieved something. Though at an exponential rate but the graph of my articles was going up.

Did that phase where I was rising as a writer changed me? No, I was still the same during that phase. However, being an egoistic person there was a huge boost to my ego and it motivated me to write even better.

Meanwhile, between all these chaos my personal life continued to remain messy. I am the person who never had a stable personal life even though I had everything I wanted. In this phase, I forgot that people existed and I kept on working and smoking. Cigarettes were the only object who saw the terror while I use to write to the most vulnerable sufferings my conscience undergo in craving for love.

Why didn’t I chose to write about it? I asked these questions to myself many times. However, the only answer I got was all your write-ups are derived from the sufferings of your personal life and all your principles are the proof of why you are responsible for that sufferings. I can never thank Abha to how long she heard all of these and still having different ideology made sure I learn things in my own way, During Mind Mosaic, I found a best friend who was also the founder and younger than me. During this phase, I met some brilliant individuals with their own set of expertise in their areas. I consider myself lucky to meet Akash, Rushi and Aashna.

However, due to few reasons, Mind Mosaic failed and it came to an end. Does that make a difference?


to be continued…

 

 

 

 

 

Dakota 2 – Meri Pyaari Bindu

“Pyaar mein itni thokar khaane ke bawajood, zakhm pe iodex malkar veer jawaan hamesha khade ho jaate hain, ek aur try karne ke liye…”

Episode 2

There is some quality in her that makes her look very different from other people. Her presence is like the aura of lilies that are just plucked from the nursery. Every time she meets me there is some thing different about her. There are 4 things that define her.

The first is her big bumble bee like eyes, second is her traditional kurties and the way she walks. Her way of walking is just like a tornado that is coming to hug you from a distance. The third is her love for old songs and the way she sings them. The fourth and my favourite is how she takes or steals my stuff which she likes and never gives me hers.

Our relation is just like Bubla and Bindu from the movie, “Meri pyaari Bindu”. You lock us in one room for a month, we will not mind unless any one of us loses the fight. You give us one Pizza and we fight till the last piece. You tune into the old songs then we will sing and dance loudly in our car. If she is low, she will get angry at me as she thinks it is her birth right. She is busy making chits and making plans of copying in the exams while I am busy making the schedule for her studying.

She is so similar like Bindu as she never reads my work. She always start something but leaves her midway. However, she always know what she exactly wants. Her whatsapp calls mean it is an emergency. She is the one who is ready to do some of the craziest things and I am the one who stays behind her in all the weird things she does. She is the one who fights with people on my behalf. She is the one who never appreciates me for anything.

Well, reading this one might think where do I stand? I am the one who assures Bindu that she can do whatever she wishes to do because Bubla is standing right besides her. I am the one who makes sure Bindu is alright and I am the one who tells her she is at her best when she dances on Shammi Kapoor’s song. I am the one who is scared of her mother.

Jab itna bol hi dia to thode kisse bi ho jayein Bindu aur Bubla ke…

I asked her, “Ooo Bindu, Meri pyaari bindu, how was your date?”

“Which date you are talking about?”

“Bc, as if you got went to Lots of when I was not in the town. See, we both know that you are not going to find someone else.”

“Owww, You fucking went for 15 long days. I missed you while shopping. I did not find any company.”

“That means you just missed me because you need to go for shopping?”

Owww! Yes, Bubla Desai. Apart from it, I had a good time without you. It was actually peaceful as there was no one who keeps crying on things.”

“Okay, I lose, now tell me how was your date?”

“With Vinny it was ok ok. I mean we had nothing to talk about. Half of the time he was just sitting.”

“Who the fucks gives such kind of names. Seriously! Vinny? I totally judge you Bindu. That is but obvious no, you were talking since few months and if you meet after that, what will you have to talk. BC, You will die single.”

“No, I have you as my backup no. And I know you are going to forever alone.”

“Pyaar mein itni thokar khaane ke bawajood, zakhm pe iodex malkar veer jawaan hamesha khade ho jaate hain, ek aur try karne ke liye…” By telling this we go on a date again to be single and make fun of the incident. 

This was it and then we started to talk about her date like and it ended at making fun of each other.

TO BE CONTINUED…


The quote is taken from Meri Pyaari Bindu.

The Rise And Fall Of A Writer – 1

It is very often said that a person undergoes the best and worst times of their life at a certain stage so that they can understand the importance of their existence. However, I was a person who never believed this philosophy. I am such a person who can feel his existence in every breath he takes. Neverhtheless, today, I fail to do so. I am neither a big personality nor a great writer but this is my story. A story of my rise and fall not just as a writer but even as a person.

My journey of being a writer started back in 2014 when I was a boy who was writing his tears. I never had any thoughts or dream to be a writer. I started writing as a process of evacuation of my feelings or probably to show my lost love of what I feel about her. That write-ups neither had proper grammar or a sentence formation. They were just a rant of the teenage boy who wants things to function according to him.

However, I never realised when that amateur writing helped me to feel emotions so strongly. I was able to see emotions right through the person just like the light that passes through an object without reflection. I kept on writing and it was a year but I didn’t stop. The only improvements that happened in my writings were the concept and the content. I was in an impression that what I write is a good mixture of content and grammar.

With that impression in my mind, I thought of creating a blog in 2015 named Jharokha. Well, the same blog on which you are reading my story. I had hundred of thoughts of writing articles which are a mixture of philosophy and personal touch and the very first article I published was titled as the ‘That Abstract Feelings’. I also made a facebook page to showcase my work and also sent it to people to review it.

The criticism I faced was very shocking or rather I can say it was little disappointing. It all started with one person laughing on the content to the second person laughing on grammar. On the other side, I found few people telling me it was a nice article but when I asked Why you felt it was nice then there were no answers. I noted down some of the points in which they were laughing about and wrote one more piece. It turned out to be a disaster in terms of the concept. However, I found one or two people who actually appreciated the concept, content and even gave constructive feedback.

It is said that a writer has to keep an open mind when it comes to taking the ideas or criticism. I made sure I do that but as I kept on publishing the article, the criticism I use to get started decreasing. I saw my friends creating a joke out of it, putting the mistakes in the groups and laughing on it. I do not know but I started doubting myself during that point. Everytime, I picked up the pen I had second thoughts about writing. However, even with that trembling pen I didn’t stop writing my philosophies.

After 3 months, I met a woman named Abha Mehra in the NGO where I was working. She read my blog, provided me with honest reviews every time when I asked for. One day she called me to meet her and asked me, “Would you like to work and write with us for our online magazine? Though we cannot pay you.” I was very hesitant because of the way I saw my write-ups getting humiliated. In the end I said a big YES to her.

This is where my journey as a writer started. It was the phase where I started to learn how does one set the flow of an article, how does one use metaphors and most important part how can one create an article from a single idea or thought. Initially, it was very difficult and I was very under confident about the work I used to do. Moreover, I saw the other team members talking and sharing their views. To be honest, I was scared on seeing their confidence and approach they have but I tried to absorb good things from them. These helped me to learn many things especially the content execution and to some extent even grammar. The first article that went on board was the “Transformation – An Inevitable Journey”.  

I was very nervous when the article was published but when Akash told me that it worked really well, there was a moment where I was regaining my confidence as a writer. Abha was the one who edited it and after it, I saw people actually loved it. Abha always told me that my strong point is content and make sure that it is never compromised. I always use to tell her that I write for myself and no one else.

In these process of writing on my blog and Mind Mosaic, I realised my genre is Philosophy and I started writing on individualism and ideal man theory. The second article was titled as “The Masterpiece”. There was no looking back and the graph of my write-ups started increasing. Meanwhile, in the midst of this process, I got addicted to…

to be continued…

Dakota 2 – A book full of memories

\In order to read the introduction of Dakota Series 2, click here.


Episode 1

We will fade away some day. We will be living in a different city and we will not be able to meet. What will we do? Will we regret not meeting?  Will we be the same when we will meet after years?

What if we will not be able to meet again? What if with time our memories will fade? If any of these happens no, there will always be a book on the right-hand side of your drawer to make you live with all of them.

There will be the book which will live even after our death. I will title that book as CHILD because it is because of you that I can still have that side of me alive. Child because of your innocent complaints and unfulfilling demands. Child because of the times I got angry at you while teaching you quantitative demands and child because of you asking me to get a vada pav so that you could study better.

I live with our memories and I fear that what if I will forget it some day? That is why I am keeping it safe on the table on the right-hand side of my wall. When you will be travelling the world, I will be sitting in the corner of my room busy writing about how I am so proud of you. When you will be receiving you

When you will be receiving your first paycheck, I will be writing about what I want from it. When you will be in a relationship, I will be writing about the delays you did in meeting me. When you will be feeling low, I  will be writing about how much I had hate your tears. I will always be writing about you so that the memories we create will remain forever. When I say forever I really mean it.

So, if some day I might not be present, there will be a book full of memories which will make you smile when you will be feeling low. There will be times when you might feel bad about yourselves, the book will tell you how good you are. That book will never make you feel like I am not here with you.

So if something will happen to me, just hold on to the book of memories CHILD. I will be living in that book with you.

Until the next time.

To be continued…

DAKOTA – Series 2

If you have haven’t read the first series of Dakota, just click here.


Introduction

Well, I do not know how many of you have read and resonated the with the set of a journey with a beautiful friend one can ever have. Isn’t is so simple that at times all you know how is that the journey is never going to end. Somethings will never change and if they change they will just get better.

I always had in my mind that I will start the second series very soon but I was not able to and I was getting restless because of that. Kavisha, you know anything you write about her will be pretty less.

Every time I meet her there is something you. Today she told in a tone of sheer excitement that she got her first salary. Yesterday she texted that she went to quit smoking. The day before was like you fucking die, Vyom Desai because you do not have any time to meet me. It does not end and probably will never end. All those fights, irritations, happiness, moments and food will sum up the second series.

This time it will not be the set of stories Miss Kavisha Shah (if you are reading this) but it can be an abrupt short write-up, a story, a few lines just portraying you, a poem or just a picture. I am not even sure that whether I will write everything in English because I suck at it.

Kavisha Shah

You know satisfaction is a very rare thing so today I will just start with it.

There were times when all I had was a day full of guilt trippings, terror, anxiety. I was just like the man after 7 drinks of whisky. A man who knows his mind but cannot feel his senses. That was probably the mot vulnerable part of me which you have seen and anyhow managed to withstand. In between all these that one glance of yours in that blue kurta, those silver jhumkas, a pretty Bindi, your bubblegum like eyes and carrying a camera in one hand, I felt the moment of peace. It was like the senses coming back in sync with the mind. I found peace in that moment, the kind of peace I have always demanded and the kind of peace I will always seek.

Until the next time,

To be continued…