Miracles can be logical


Dear Ramon,

Ever met any person who reckons the cover of a match box, a coin, a calendar, a polythene bag where veggies might have been carried, ‘Divine’ because a God’s photo is imprinted on it? Well, i have been living with such a person since the beginning of my life; my mother. She is a lady who is very strong with her beliefs and confident about what she does irrespective of what others think or say about it but when it comes to any religious talks, feed her anything and she will gulp it.

There was a time when a rumour wafted in few places in India that Lord Ganesha had literally started drinking Milk when people were offering him that. Thousands of people started feeding him litres of milk and made wishes. And you might have guessed it already; my mom was one of those vehement devotees to believe that blindly. We had a small idol of Ganesha, made of clay and my neighbour had an idol that of stone. So, my mom and her other devout friend started feeding milk to the idols with spoon. I wasn’t spared either. She made me feed the idol a spoonful of milk and it worked. I saw the milk dissipating slowly as soon as I put the spoon inside the mouth of idol. I was fascinated to see the miracle and was pleased to know that my offerings had been accepted by God and I would be granted my wish.milk

Maths used to be my biggest fear those days. So, I wished to score good marks in maths exam.  When I wrote the maths papers after few days, unlike always I was smiling while writing the exam instead of fearing, pretty confident that my wish had been granted. Well miracle did happen; I scored full marks in Maths test for the first time. Few days before my next maths exam, I was found standing in front of God again, with a bowl full of milk hoping for a miracle to happen again. I had a plastic Idol of Ganesha.  This time, he rejected my offerings. I was perturbed and doubled my efforts out of fear, to do well in my next exam. The nervousness was back while writing Maths exam this time and I managed to score just the passing marks on that exam. I was upset but thought it was fate and it was already written.

After few months I perceived a simple fact that Clay and Stones can absorb water/ milk and plastic can’t. The secret behind all the offerings, its acceptance and all the miracles found its logical reasoning in my mind. And amidst all these spectacle I assimilated, that day it wasn’t my fate or God who let me score full marks in exam but my strong belief in God made me believe in myself, which was later replaced by fear the next time when the milk was not absorbed by the plastic idol. Success is not driven by miracles. Hard work plays a vital role in success but sometimes that’s not suffice to achieve what we want. It’s not always about the hard works we do or our competence to do something or blaming the fate for our failure. Sometimes believing in our calibre, our hard works and most importantly ourselves is all it takes to let the miracle happen, in a logical way!


photo credits and references: http://www.crystalinks.com/milkmiracle.html




Slave of our own device


Dear Ramon,

I saw a very weird man at Starbuck’s who was not using his laptop or cell phone or any other electronic device but just sat there and enjoyed his coffee.

My morning starts by peering at my cell phone right after I open my eyes hearing the electronic twitter of alarm. My laptop is never on sleep mode, sometimes even after I turn on my sleep mode. Thank God, my flat screen has auto sleep mode on. I need my ear plugs to music system on while going to the office which becomes a cherry on the sundae if I get a Wi-fi enabled bus. Being an IT person, my world revolves around all the latest gadgets all the time. Machines and technology are an important part of our lives. Right from laptops and mobiles used at our work places to the PSPs and flat screens used for entertainment, our happiness, comfort and necessities are all reliant on machines.  It’s like we all are in a committed relationship with gadgets these days and a question often strikes my mind “Are we controlling the machines or machines are taking control of us?”

I am one of those blessed children who were born during the time when gadgets didn’t subjugate our bonding with the nature, people and ourselves. I am glad that my first walk was not discovered by standing alone on walkers, I rather leant it by holding my mom and dad’s arms with my parents taking baby steps beside me. My first teacher to teach me “twinkle twinkle little stars”, “humpty dumpty” and “Mary had a little lamb” was not the DVDs played on flat screen, I had the pleasure of learning them by listening to all the dramatic tones and looking at all the hand gestures my parents did. Playing never meant entering any gaming stations or operating dad’s cell phone and tab games inside a solitary chamber. For me it was going out with friends, siblings and sometimes with parents amidst nature and its greenness, getting acquainted with the warmth of sun, smell of earth, wetness of morning dews on grass and the coldness of drizzling rain. It was the happiness of making paper boats and making it swim on water when it downpoured or looking at the full moon and counting the stars in the night’s sky.

Slaving ourselves to these machines we have come too far from our primitive ways of living with limited resources or no resources at all. Speaking of limited resources, camera with films used to be my favourite which could capture only 32 pictures. Digital cameras these days are capable of taking legion of retakes but it scants the moments created when dad used to capture our pictures while we got only one chance to pose at a place. If the picture is captured before we could smile properly or after we just blinked, or sneezed  then that’s how we are gonna be seen and remembered at that place in pictures for rest of our lives. They were not a part of technology captured with the sole purpose of being posted on Facebook, instagram and other online sites but a collection of all the old memories printed and beautifully preserved inside photo albums.

Rise of Machines might have transfigured hours of works into minutes, minutes into seconds, but in the process of making life easier, it has also made us pretermit the basic elements of life and it’s ways of living. The mechanical world consuming the feeling of togetherness, our nexus with the nature and appreciating it’s essence, creating memories not for spectators but for the warmth of our heart. Because during our last days or when we are lonely, nobody remembers the time spent on these complicatedly coded lifeless gadgets but every little blob of happiness cherished with family, friends, nature and ourselves.

Photo credit: https://in.pinterest.com/pin/307159637056602180/

Nature’s ostentatious Boundaries


(In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge theme: Boundaries)

Dear Ramon,

Boundary holds ambiguous perceptions. For me boundaries and dividers are nature’s ways of cessation of monotony, like the river dividing the uniformity of mountains. It also sculptures and directs the nature’s indefinite forms, like the mass of earth shaping the amorphous river and directing it to its path to flow. Border is the implication of limits; Omnipresence of an invisible barricade outstretching our ability to reach what our eyes reflects, like admiring nature’s beauty from distance without any existing ways to reach there.

Taming a Dreamcatcher



Dear Ramon,

Last few months have been the worst time of my life. Every moment I felt as if somebody would shook me up and I would realize it was all a nightmare. I don’t remember when was the last time I smiled, had a deep sleep, listened to music and felt good, ate because I was hungry or because I was tempted to eat something, did something fun, watched a movie, talked to anybody because I wanted to, or went out to explore. It’s conceivable that I am not a happy girl or may be somebody who is immensely depressed.

When we don’t find answers to our questions in the present, sometimes it’s better to dig in the past where our childhood mind rooted happiness which eventually weakens till the time we reach our adulthood. Recently I was looking at one of the albums of my childhood pictures and it oozed out numerous long forgotten memories.

While playing with my brother at the age of ‘I barely remember’, I once bumped my head on the window pane and fainted, when I regained consciousness, I was in a hospital and the doctor was stitching my wounded forehead. I started screaming for help against that evil doctor who was causing me pain with those needles. Then a lady came as my saviour and the doctor stopped and she took over. Mom said she was a ‘nurse’ and she became the superwoman I wanted to be when I grew up.

Few days passed and the influence of superwoman faded away.  In the year 1994, Aishwarya Rai, an Indian woman won the crown of Miss World. Awed by her elegance and poise, my wild heart weaved a new dream and my independent mind decided to live it. So, I ended up dressing like miss world in a school competition and won third position.

As a kid I played the role of multitudinous characters. Characters my heart desired to be and my mind made me that. Someday my gypsy mind was a girl praying in the balcony to win a boon from god, after watching a mythological tv series episode, someday I was headstrong Lara Croft of Tomb raider or a rockstar after watching any music concert or a traffic police who superintended hundreds of vehicles each day. My vagabond heart painted colourful dreams on the blank canvas and my mind made it come alive.

Living the past memories one more time I realised, life or predicament don’t make us what we are, what we think about ourselves is what we actually are. We don’t have control over actions happening around but we do have control over our reactions to them. A lot of things, a lot of people, circumstances triggered to what I am dealing with these days but to live it like a bad dream and impel myself to suffer by limiting my heart from desiring anything, somewhere has been my choice. Going by my childhood trend, what I thought is what I have become.

We all are born with a boon of being whatever we want to be; a mind capable of making us anything we choose to be. So, today I choose to live a life again by playing the role of a happy woman. I decided to let my independent, vagabond mind be the dreamcatcher and in return it let me believe, no matter how bad the nightmare is, it will consume it to nothingness and let me be a Happy Dreamer, Always!


Photo Credit: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/315814992595663480/

Spirit of Acceptance


Dear Ramon,

Here is my second twisted thought about…well, let’s start with

Camouflage: An art of adaptation to the environment some creatures are blessed with, which makes them suffice for the survival. I still remember the day I saw a chameleon for the first time, pacing on grassland with cautious eyes, aware of my presence and with a blink of an eye it was invisible. I was curious and kept looking for it until I found it crawling up a dry bamboo. On scrutinizing, I noticed it was green in color, with few tints of light brown color on its body. As I kept staring, it completely blended in with the color of the bamboo, making himself invisible. I was amused to see how efficient he was in saving himself from his predators.

I thought, how blessed they are to possess such a power but on second thought, does camouflaging make them powerful? We cannot expect a caterpillar camouflaged within leaves, to fight with a bird and win, or a well camouflaged frog to kill a snake, which tried to eat him up. May be its not always about strength but knowing your capacity, accepting your weaknesses and making yourself suffice for survival.

As I grew up and started getting acquainted with how the world really works, I came across a lot of people with a pool of traits, thoughts, beliefs, attributes and perceptions. People acting diversely under similar circumstances.  A person behaving differently with different people for the same reason. Perceptions about something or someone which are poles apart. A foible which is well concealed from one but unveiled in front of someone else. A sliver of traits for a clique of people and a different for others. People trading themselves for “survival of the fittest”.

What can be more relatable than the privacy settings and customization options we have on Facebook to hide a part of us from somebody and reveal the same to others. Does that mean we are shamming ourselves? I never got an unambiguous answer to that. Some call it being “double faced”, while others call it “fake” and “masquerade”.

May be its not called shamming; May be its not black “or” white that defines us. I would rather call it black “and” white, extremities of shades in us, refracting all the other shades in between, each longing for acceptance. It is a little effort made for acceptance of ourselves with all the weaknesses. May be that’s how we camouflage ourselves, making ourselves suffice for survival.  That’s how we keep our spirit of acceptance alive, and an old adage always resonates in me “Happiness can exist only in acceptance”.

I was grown-up until i chose wisdom over it!


Dear Ramon,

Looking back at myself I realized our life changes so quickly. There is a point of time in life when we have absolutely no idea what we are going through and we lose the vision of our future. We find ourselves standing alone amidst all the crowd. Alienating ourselves from all the traits that ever defined us, all the moral values, all the beliefs we were composed of, we catechize ourselves about who we are.

Encaged in the numbness of our heart we start moving with the stream like a dead fish. We hold on to the situation that we are put into. In the act of finding our identity we become the slave of our own spiritless thoughts. We keep stabbing our heart with the catastrophic visualization of failures of past repeating, premonitions of future, anxiety, stress, responsibilities and eventually have grave repercussions of ourselves with no inner voice or warm embracing soul left inside.

We forget the taste of courage, the strength of fearlessness. The fearlessness we showed when we participated in a competition, or performed on stage for the first time, or stood against a bully at school, or even the silliest childhood fights we fought over pencils and other petty things.

We forget how we saved some time for ourselves everyday that was only ours or let me put it in a better way, how we mastered time and schedule so that we could watch our favorite cartoon or magic shows or any superhero shows or any detective series on tv or play an extra hour after school even during exam hours, even when we were piled up with assignments and homework and all the stress our tiny innocent minds could handle.

We forget to fight back our extreme fears and opt for what we really want. I mean what can feel worse than literally drowning in water but this is how we learnt swimming right? We forget to take the risk of drowning to learn swimming.

Pursuing for happiness in owning big things we forget to notice the little things happening around us. The happiness we felt when a cute little puppy followed us all the way back home from school. The happiness we felt when we could identify a constellation for the first time by looking at the stars. The happiness we felt when we got an extra chocolate on our friend’s birthday. The happiness we felt when we saw the first beard growing or in my case when i had my first actual haircut!

Looking back at times when our little innocent mind understood nothing, made me realize that it at least understood himself. It understood real happiness. It understood Life and blossomed but as we are ageing and gaining wisdom to understand everything but ourselves, are we actually growing?