Quotidian Tales

Freedom is a purely personal prerogative. It is inclusive and unique. To each his own. W When the fervour of the celebrations and the big questions of the nation got mellowed into the rhythm of quotidian life, one evening, quite unexpectedly, I found myself inclined to ponder on the word 'Freedom'. It's contemporary relevance in my life. In our lives. So much has been spent and so little saved of this abstraction, which is, by the way, the most potent emotion, that for a moment I was incapable of even having a thought on it. But then the urge to look at it simply, without its baggage, swelled up within me. I felt that for the unborn child, release from the amniotic sac and into a blurred but beautiful world was freedom. An unsteady crawl and an ardour for the unexplored could set a baby free as did school and friends to one in his growing up years. A movement beyond the familiar walls is the first taste of freedom that one can relish, I realised. As years yi

The ROYALE WEDLOCK ---!! Whose food comes from 'Leyshon' And the dress is split A-line. HYPE , that is what gives direction. Guidance quaffs tonight For those who idly lay. Well, it’s a change, the flight, That hauls millions at bay!! Why this sudden drift? The commotion is what desires. Nah… It’s the strongest tattle spreading Like wildest dry bush-fire . “Nowales journey back”. The craze, the bias in theatres. 13 nominations and 5 awards And still leaning for features. Why this phone misses feed? Abyss with she who sent. I need myself enlightened Ahead of every nook… each bent. The country won 3 gold. Olympic is in motion. And then the worst coverage That says our best man’s down. The night was sleepless. Wait for the next recovery. #ashtags tend, our best man And then a sturdy win. That's TRENDY ! Each night a new movement. An ecstatic course, that builds on virtual networks . Roars and bellows around , Until a new trend rocks.

There are many friends around us. We are unfamiliar with them. Let’s unravel them to appreciate their importance. A s I was browsing through the chapters of my childhood , one of them stood out. "Friends." Perhaps due to its peculiarity and distinctiveness. Coincidence, if you may call it, around the very same time, the celebrations of 'Friendship Day' were going on in full swing. My daughter was coming home every day, almost for a week, with 10-15 friendship bands and rings! Happy to have so many friends and hell-bent on making more. Good for her, I thought. My chapter on friendship is, I must admit, a little different. Of course, it includes my friends from school, neighbourhood, college, tuition, university and so on and so forth. But it reaches beyond that. It is inclusive and expansive in its own way. It nourishes and nurtures itself out of every life experience that it encounters. And before I sound poetic and redundant, I’ll try to explain what I inten

When did you last visit your childhood? L ast Friday, I went to an exhibition. I had read about it in the papers. It promised fun and nostalgia but with a difference. Conceived and created by an aspiring artist, Aahel Iyer, it was called the 'Playschool'. What a memory-inducing name, I thought! The moment I entered the hall, a splash of colours, bright colours dazzled my eyes. I’m sure you’ll agree that colours have their own way of affecting the mind. Mine was immediately swept away from the subtle shades of my present to the effervescent and energetic hues of my childhood. There were quite a few interesting installations, coloured art pieces and impressionistic presentations, if I may call them, in the exhibition. I was very keen to know the story behind each one of them. A tag, which included more than just a name or a title, was attached to every exhibit. The purpose, I believe, was to offer a vignette of that particular memory of the artist. Another t

Are we heading towards the Third World War? W hat did I see? An arid land, dry and dusty. The brown predominates the landscape and the lustreless green is hardly there at the fringes. Right in the middle is a bottle, announcing itself as the elixir of life - “water”. Next, I see a giraffe, necking in, as if, to get a hold of the bottle. But immediately, by suggestion, is contested by another animal, an elephant. What follows is a remarkable replication of the finest move of a game called soccer. As the bottle is flung high in the air, my mind, almost spontaneously, gets ready to relish some more excitement. But oh! The very next instant, I am flustered. Taken aback to see the game turning brutal. The ghastly grip of the giraffe on the trunk of the elephant is gruesome to the point of being monstrous. Wasn’t a giraffe a harmless, peaceful neophyte animal? My school-book knowledge was getting all mixed up and thwarted! A giraffe puts up a fight only to defend or when attack

I am happy the way I am. I will not let others decide how I should look or appear. "B adi mushkil baba badi mushkil Gore gore gaalon pe hai kaala kaala til" ~ a song from the movie Lajja , (a 2001 Bollywood drama) in which Madhuri Dixit had performed. I am a big fan of Madhuri Dixit. Her distinctive dance moves and animated expressions seriously make many skip a heartbeat. This song from the movie Lajja, is even more special. Because there’s Me in it somewhere. My parents were ecstatic to have me as their firstborn. "How gorgeous she is... and her dot... the most heavenly brown that can ever dwell on an earthling!" Conch shells were blown as Baba picked me up towards the slit of light from heaven to declare… "She is a princess, born to live happily ever after!" The breeze slightly ruffled the curtain to ratify the blessing that imprinted itself on my heart. Well, that’s the dramatic start that my dot had! Adorable, in the eyes of the hap

She woke up feeling something wrong... 'Maybe I feel too much'... She thought... Or maybe I harp on the wrong ones all along... She tried to overlap her insides with the exuberance outside... But she failed to latch... There was a weird mismatch... Maybe she was a little too sensitive... The feelings were a little paralyzing... A little gnawing... A little igniting... And a lot perplexing... But the emptiness was a little obvious... Is emptiness really empty? Or is it the completeness crying out for fulfilment... roaring acoustically... She tried to outline the human-shaped emptiness inside her... Trying to sense the aura... Was it really inside her... Or an abstract outside her world... Chasing her all-over... Was it really the shape of a human?... She agreed to disagree... She dived deeper and said... 'Maybe these are the unhealed parts of me'......!! By: Shreya Basu © Quotidian Tales

The indefatigable human spirit can conquer any opponent. You just need to believe in it. S he is my Mummy. She is a Mummy to many more. She is not my biological mother. And that makes the relationship beautiful and unique. She is a cancer warrior. She knows that cancer will defeat her soon. Any day, any moment. But until that moment comes, she will fight it with dignity and grace. Looking at her medical condition, I feel even breath has fallen in love with her. And just wants to keep her alive. It's indeed difficult to defeat someone with so much love and positivity. She is alive, throbbing and thrusting. Embracing every minute with the intensity of conquering it. And everything she does is nothing short of a celebration. Be it her love for nature or her desire to dance in the rain. Seriously, she becomes a kid when she sees the skies open up! She gets drenched to the bones whenever she gets a chance to do so. I vividly remember how I had pulled her leg on her s