Towards Kalpa

Kalpa is a village far from here. Doesn’t matter where you live.

It’s just far, as I remember Moshi telling me stories about it. She’s from North. And, I never left Pilodh, our sweet abode to the lengthy farms my father owns and works at.

Pilodh has been my home for twenty-six years now. I was born here to the richest farmer, my friends say. They left last year to the city. Something to do with the money for the temple.

I remember that my grand-mother took me to the temple once, four miles from here. And, I don’t remember a longer trip.

I dream of the green-fields we can see from the top of our huge house. It’s not that huge, really, as you’d imagine for a farmer like my father. It’s just the smallest house with the finest materials from Old Britain.

Yes, my father, unlike other farmers, lets my mother do whatever she wants to. She wants the blankets from Manchester, she’ll have it. She needs to drink water from the city, she’ll have it. I want her to be dressed like Kay Adams, she’ll have the frock, but he won’t act like Michael Corleone.

Love that movie.

And, I am told to never leave her. Something to do with her legs. Father says she can’t walk, run or jump like I do. He also told me that I have to be here with her till my last breath.

Which makes me feel like running away with Moshi to her village. She is treated finer than the temple’s statues. She gets to eat chocolates from London. She even let me eat a Toblerone all for myself once. But, Moshi can’t run. Moshi can’t even walk. And, she definitely cannot jump as I do.

I am sick of you, Moshi. Please take me to Kalpa.

A short story about crowded weddings

“When are we getting out of here?” the neighbour’s kid is trying her best to annoy Pramokh, our neighbor.

Maybe never, I thought.

My mother was surprised to see me arranging chappals outside the home. Maybe because she never saw me work. Bengaluru teaches about living without your parents. And, I am putting it to use at home.

Our home is over-crowded like any Indian house during a wedding. And, it’s taking me forever to get the chappals arranged. How careless can my relatives be? Why is it so hard to leave your chappals like a normal human? 

“Come in, we’re having lunch in a few minutes. Are you fine? You don’t need to do this.”

My mom always derives her conclusions. She definitely never saw me do chores of any kind before. On her way back to the kitchen, I hear her mumbling “God knows what the city has done to my child”

But, I was only trying to help. Even when I knew it was as senseless as my job in the city. It’s weird what our moms are capable of. 

The weirdest of all was the Kolhapuri chappal pair. Both strangely too far from each other. Not because they were traditional, or that it’d matter for distance. But, one was on the verandah. And, the other was in my dad’s work-room. He works on the first floor. I don’t get it. This intruder must either be a kid or someone acting like one.

We’ll never get better, I blatantly thought. Still arranging the chappals. 

You may not get my autograph later

That’s precisely the most spoken words by me in school. I used to sign so many pages with my stylish pattern of words. Contained only my first name, the last name. And, the names of my dad, mom and my sister. Yes, I wanted all to be in it.

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood

“I’ll sign here now. You may not get my autograph later in the future.” happened to be my excuse slash humor to catch up with a few flippant beings from my class. I have mastered my signature so skill-fully that it is widely reacted with ‘What does it say?’ ‘Does it even mean anything?’ ‘Wait, is this English?’ ‘It’s Urdu’ and my favourite ‘That’s not your signature!’

What is this?

This blog was started solely to feed one reason. And, that is to tell me how capable in life I was to live. It’s been a journey through and out the cruise in a fiery ocean. Thus, we sail.

The notions on which I stand true to this blog have changed as the times will with the breeze brought upon us by the Northern winds. What does that mean? I don’t know exactly. But, the calming winds and the Northern lights had to be in the paragraph. And, now here’s to Jon Snow!

So, what exactly did I want to achieve to tell that I am capable?

For starters, I wanted to do just about anything other than fight with myself, my girlfriend during then, and the anxiety that comes with the nature of humans. We are the species who believe in doubt. At times, way too much in doubt itself rather than the conclusion after any quest we become a part of. That’s anxiety.

I was way too anxious when I started the blog. Whether I am happy, or sad. Whether I am from Mars, or earth. Whether I really wanted a degree, or just the skills would do. I did not have any answer to replace the alternative option to engineering. But, it turns out to be more than just the uncertainty in choices for a career. I cannot depend on any single field to keep me going. The doubts in choices of my career, at that age could have been just too much for myself. This doubt somehow led to me doubting myself, the relationships and my worth. All I knew was the fact that I liked photography. And, that’s when I started. My first post literally has the title Start.

Fun, not so fun, fact; I did not post a single article for one whole year after the first one. Times were really different during then compared to now. I don’t even remember the semantics of it all even if it happens to be only three years ago. That’s probably the only way I’ll be able to refer to the darkest periods in my life until now. I don’t remember how I put my foot in the wheels of a moving bike. But, I did put it literally on our way back from school when Sudaivee’s dad made sure I was safely back at home. And, that’s how I know that we can’t call every hard period in life as the period of darkness. We only forget to look.

Those times may have been hard enough to make me do the things I’d never imagine a sanely happy person being a part of. But, even during then I had passionately become a friend of creativity.

Even when I couldn’t stop thinking loudly, sleep calmly – I did manage, however, to keep writing. It’s magical what writing can do, or has already done for me. I believe the fruits of any struggling act are not to be found later, but when we struggle. Right there lies the courage to put out the miseries of life onto a piece of paper.

I have more than a hundred documents written and lying in the closet. Stories. Journals. Screenplays. And, just the good old scribbling patterns in a few.

Quick break. Here’s something that gives me goosebumps. I did not know until this part of the article that today is May 21. Exactly three years from the start. Damn. I am such a luck to the lucky life. And, we’ll be having Richard from the show teaching us about coincidence later on the blog. It’s funny, mostly because it’ll be me dreaming The Feynman Show.

So, these documents remain on my cloud, the weak document holder (it’s just plastic, according to me) and even a few are printed.

The goals I had for this blog, as I remember vividly, never really existed. Even today, I don’t have any. I mean, I did feel like having 10,000 hits on the blog would give me the confidence to register myself a domain and start monetizing the site. It did feel like a task so hard that I’d take one whole year to do it. Honestly, it’s never really hard to achieve numbers like that. Because, these numbers hardly tell the audience anything. They may only be a form of feedback in the disguise of reach.

River Bhima

Here we are with only 5,000 hits and I have registered a domain for a dream-community. It’s not even the domain I had in mind for the blog. So, it’s not for the blog. That simple. This blog’s domain will be registered at a time when it feels like a necessity for it to keep going.

Until then, if you have suggestions for a community where artists and people conventionally called as “scientists” can get along. Create and live the dream of art. Become new artists. Enjoy the adventures together. Then, leave your suggestions on the website. It is projected to be up and running within the next month. A subreddit is on it’s way. We’ll be having more fun than ever talking the wonders of art and this gameful life.

There’s rarely a word like gameful. Oh, really?