A certain degree of association with books and language allows the liberty to dispense words to one's inner rhythm and not mere advantage. 'Readerhood' is a word that perhaps lexicons don't ratify yet, to me, connotes something far beyond the defined scope of 'Readership'. Readerhood is an empowerment earned over ages through an imprecise process...quite unlike Priesthood.

He first showed me the sparkling droplet on lotus leaf... 

He as much filled me with the reasons to be liked as disliked. He pampered me with Mont Blanc yet taught me to adore the wooden pencil. He taught me to draw faces with it. He took me to the world without letting me loose sight of what lay next. He taught me to speak on Nandalal and Dali in the same breath...to adore creativity. He showered me with books, brush and colour. He taught me to confront…and to stoop to conquer too. He made me fall in love with Vilayat Khan and Beethoven…and Swiss watches. He prepared me to wonder. And acquainted me with both Plato and the Platypus. He offered me the key to the exalting world of literature – where I later found many of my immortal friends. 

He bequeathed me an infinitely interesting life. Thanks Baba…

Thoughts pick its language and civility cannot tamper with it. Sophisticating it would amount to robbing it of its innocence and vigour..

The altitude dictates the attitude...As you rise and slowly zoom out of all trifles letting the eyes savor a humbling vastness rimmed by the vanishing horizon, the restlessness leaves giving way to an overwhelming bliss...you feel like staying there even after your body retires to ground...

Wish all a blue sky, exciting take-offs and safe landings!

I always love the book that I'm not reading. I often end up loving summer during winter. I fancy Bach's playfulness when I am in the company of Beethoven. It is not the archetypal yearning for the distant. It is just extending the present to the possible...

It all began with a storm and I was catapulted right into it. The storm was beautiful, loving and impeccably particular in inflicting the optimal pain onto me. Did I then realise how it imperceptibly embraced me eventually becoming a part of my being? 

Did I agree to continue to be known with reference to that storm or as one who could tame it with poise and characteristic blitheness?

mind please...

Often the mortals read words emanating from mind as ones from the heart. Mind assumes the colour of its surround whereas heart illumines whatever it shines one. Heart can never step into dark. Mind can. Mind does. Mind plays.

But mind yields when this awareness steps in - asking to let heart subdue mind.