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Showing posts from March, 2015

Memories of the old mango tree….

Grandparents are like the huge green tree standing tall in the courtyard of a house. Even if they are not a part of the household, they hold the roots of the house. After a busy exhausting day, the family spends its evenings around the tree. I was never close to my grandparents but I know they love me the most in the world. They have always been a part of the holiday package to my native village. Even though we have a huge house in village, I have always seen them sleeping outside because they believe after a certain age, they should abstain from family life. However, their love for me never deterred.  They would make swings for me by tying ropes to the old mango tree with ropes and sacks. They would ensure I always get the best mangoes and guavas. Although they never talked to me but their eyes would always follow me everywhere I go. Summer vacations were the best time of the year for me because I would visit my village and spend most of the days under the old mango tree in our cour…

But I still haven’t found what I am looking for

“Wahan kaun hai tera musafir….jaega kahan?”- with these words the blind beggar earns my attention for a while. I hand him a 5 rupee coin and dive into my pool of memories again. I am not new to train journeys. The only difference: ten years back, train journeys meant vacations, now they mean work. This time, it was separation. Yes, I am leaving my dream city-city where I studied, I learned, I earned, I loved and I lived. People congratulated me- Oh you got admission into a B-school! Lucky you are. Deep inside, I knew something was broken. Sometimes, it’s easier to say good bye to people than to bid farewell to a city. 
A one-sided love story and a failed to take-off career- perfect combination to ignite the tail of a rocket called escapism. I did not know what hurts more- your conscience that called you an escapist or the irony that you are leaving everything behind for better and yet you are not happy. One year back….it was a completely different feeling. It was the journey I took ho…

And at last I see the light……

I remember how my dad used to try to be extra cheerful on days when he felt low. He tried not to let us know that he is sad and would tell my mom quietly in the night. Sadly, I have not inherited this trait from him. I would sigh, crib, yelp and sulk to death. On those days, even one hour morale boosting sessions with mom and dad over phone would not help. It’s around eight years that I have moved out of my parents’ house for starting my own life but sometimes, it seems nothing has changed. I still want to go to my parents crying, cuddle them and close my eyes hoping it’s a nightmare and it would be over soon.
It was the last leg of MBA and the most dreaded one too- placement week. Companies came and went and I was left alone like some 80s-90s masala bollywood movies’ hero’s over aged ugly sister who was the biggest burden for the family. Who said physical proximity doesn't matter. I was home sick and slowly, the depression too set in. There were friends who I could categorize in…