Quotidian Tales

Happiness is simple. Live the moment to make a memory out of it. A bright sunny day. Strapping up my touristy spirit and bitten by the explorer’s bug, I was strolling down a lane in Zurich. Looking here and there. A camera in my hand. The lens of my eye and that of the device mostly collaborated to capture the quintessence of the captivating city. But hey, my vision always dictated the other! It had to sacrifice holding on to prominent spots and landmarks in favour of embracing indigenous life. Every blink offered an image that mesmerised me. Suddenly something happened. By happenstance, I looked up. I saw a beautiful white trail of a zooming jet plane in the sky. No, not just that but everything about it and around it. The contrail against the aqua blue sky framed by cumulus clouds did something to me. It made me smile. I clicked it. And the most amazing thing is that every time I look at the photograph, a gust of fresh air invigorates me. Even today as I share it with y

The painful path of forgiving is what frees us from further pain. H e was the master. I was the slave. The stench suffocated me. My soul was decomposing. Till the day I decided to exercise my will. I took the leap of faith. I pried open the cage. Today I am divorced. With a child. The decision of changing my status, however, was anything but an easy one. And the life after was far from that. The day I crossed the threshold of my previous life, it had felt like cutting off my right hand. A hand that had gangrened, so I had to stop the spread. But that act meant much more than just the pain of severing. It meant learning to live without my dominant hand. And making the most with the other. I accepted my reality and devised two specific strategies to deal with it. First, I would never compare myself to an individual with two hands. The comparison itself was lame and lost. Second, I put my less dominant hand through a spartan schooling till it would emerge as the dominant one.

A dream has the power to become real. Nourish it to inhabit in it. I believe in dreams. It is a great way to utilize your mind when you are sleeping. And the best way to push yourself when you are awake. Our dreams have the potential to create our reality. At least that’s what most of us like to believe. In our dreams, we see things happening. In our awakened state, we endeavor to transform those pleasant happenings into our reality. But sadly enough, when it comes to implementing those vignettes of our dreams into our conscious life, it becomes very complex and tiring. Mostly unattainable and almost unreal. The harsh realities of the matrix of our existence come into play. Those which had never been a part of our dreams. You can’t give up on it till you get to live it….Knowingly or unknowingly they give us the purpose to move on. A dire consequence. Our bodies and minds are quickly overwhelmed. First, due to the sheer frustration of not being able to fulfill our dreams

A blog was born to share the quotidian tales of life. Tales of your lives and ours. R andomness struck us as we bonded, not on the first day of the primary, junior or even senior school for that matter, but in the 11th grade with only a mere one and a half years left to step out of our second homes. Two shabby, squeaking benches, one behind the other, was the space that metamorphosed our experiences from the general to the distinctive. From sharing lunchboxes to sharing lives, all extempores coagulated to form that envious rainbow, which, sadly enough, disappeared once the conducive conditions were lost. Hardly did we realise how time raced us through its course as we shifted from pulling each other’s legs, mimicking teachers, enjoying moments of unadulterated fun to writing absurdities and absolutes in our precious slam books. Sparks produced sparkles, and once in a while, we paused, pondered and decided to proceed….We ventured to discuss and disclose the quotidian tale