Hoarder!

Happiness is a myth that was invented to make us buy!


I and my true friends feel a ‘happy’ rush seeing the first hoarding calling out SALE! Yet as I put the word happy under the saintly quotes I was in for a surprise. Instead of a seraphic happy angel, I saw a greedy devil looking back at me. Oh! We were unscrupulous believers to fall for the myth and now we walk home with lighter wallets and baggages of things we wanted and not quite wanted.

I am a greedy hoarder. And over the years I just feel that the things I hoard has grown leaps and bound. Back in the monsoon season in Nainital I was all eyes for the dark green ferns. Walking along I used to scan through the green outgrowth looking for a leaf I didn’t have in my collection. There were those artistically shaped fern leaves, which ingeniously had a brown powdery substance on the backside. It almost worked as a carbon sheet and you could stamp the pattern of the leaf on your hand :) The leafy skeletons(jackfruit leaves) buried under the stones was valuable treasure to me.

The acorns were another favourite of mine. Perhaps there were the monkeys, birds, squirrels and me vying for them. Well I couldn’t climb on an oak tree unlike my competitors so I had to scout the ground beneath the tree to collect them. I collected the pretty luscious green ones and then the shiny brown dried acorns as well. I have already mentioned the wood roses in my previous blog so I’ll give it a miss this time.

Let’s move on to stones. The most beautiful collection I have is the scaled golden stones I picked up from my maternal grandmothers orchids in the hills of Paharpani. Imagine the mud glistening golden in the sun. From the glistening golden to the sublime whites from some rivers bed I had them all. The perfectly round, and then the perfectly flat all made it to my collection. Very close to the stone collection I had the shell collection. Picked up from the shores of Kanyakumari and Kovalam, then some kind soul got me a handful from mandarmuni as well. For every shell I had, I had a story about its colour and texture.

All these stories sound so quaint today. I don’t scan the grounds, the grass, and the trees around me anymore. I have found a substitute today for my hoarding happiness, I scan the stores! And come the sale season I’m on my way.. Hey I’ve become this materialistic hoarding woman..:(

A thing for swings…

I trust a hemp rope as much as I trust the rusty iron chain when it comes to swings.  I don’t discriminate between a wooden, a plastic or even a rubber tire seat when it comes to swings. I just have a thing for swings. I’ll bribe away the kids or may be even shoo them away if they make me wait too long for my turn.

On a little windy evening, watch the dancing shadows of the dusk swing into night.  The receding shadows at their elusive best! I love the highs and I love the lows. I know the tricks too well; I’ll throw myself forward I’ll pull myself behind. It’s just a matter of time, when I begin to hear the sound of my hair playing in the wind-(I’d shampoo my hair any day if there’s a swing in the itinerary!). It’s lovely gazing at the night sky, leisurely swinging and spying on the stars above.  You might never reach them but there’s no stopping you from trying so here I tug the ropes more briskly taking my swing still higher above.

On a lazy afternoon, putting my swing under a shady tree, I like to swing gently with a gossipy partner.  It’s fun to start with small talk and then muse philosophically but it’s equally convenient vice-versa. It’s all the more special if someone buys you an ice-cream and then you relish it on a swing. (All the above events are no figments of imagination they bear close resemblance to few eventful days in other wise mundane life.)

I caught on the ‘swinging  bliss’ in Kolkata. How I miss the park nearby my apartment where I’ve spent countless evening with my roomies and close friends. Then there were the innumerable fairs year long in some or the other parts of the city, and the biggest draw-yes the swings! Bizarre swings, some made your head spin, the others had some serious momentum issues but I’m willing to forgive that all as long as I get to scream and shout with friends.  I have managed two swinging evenings in Hyderabad so far. I was fortunate to have a swinging morning in garden city Bangalore while on a weekend trip.  I’m surprised at how vividly I remember each of the days. Perhaps my childhood is swinging back again for all the days that swung past without a swing. 

Take a bow..

Reclined on my chair with ease I take in the last scene.  Of all the suspense, drama tension built over the course it is now time for all the pieces to fall in place.  The lost lamb will finally head home. .The wronged will get their rightful place under the sun... There will be manna for the hungry soul.  Maybe a reunion for the star crossed lovers. There is this comfort in the knowledge that ‘this’ would be the end. You may choose to appreciate or disagree but the end is inevitable. It is time for the curtains to gently fall down.

Walking down one wintery December evening I felt the same peace. I made my peace with the year that was just heading to its end. I could recall places and people who came into my life with this New Year. I felt tender warmth towards all the new faces that had turned familiar and known during the course of this year. I tried to fathom my own impressions of this new city, I moved into. And with a generous gesture smiled for everything ‘new’ 2010 had ushered into my life.

The wintery chill was also walking along and so was also the recollection of all the failures, heartbreaks and set breaks. I glanced gloomily at the distant light slowly fading in the wintery fog. I recalled all the friends I left behind as I strode past them. The reasons for which ranged from being genuine to silly or simple incomprehensible.

The curtains then finally fall; they have the finality of the end as meditated by the director. All the characters come forward join hands and take a solemn bow as they try to read the applause. But in life as a New Year rolls in, it is the hope of new beginnings which is more emphatic. I thought of giving a nostalgic bow to things, places, people I had left behind but still I hope that it is not the final bow and our paths will cross again. I would revisit the city which somehow feels so familiar in all its idiosyncrasies, incongruities! Yes Kolkata it was.  But alas this era that I lived in the city will have to take a bow...it can never be the same again. I wouldn't say so for the estranged people in my life. I may not retreat to make amends as yet but I would still reserve the bow. I would still hope that we warmly shake hands again and laugh aloud unhindered. Well some material possessions will have to take a bow or perhaps a handing over to younger siblings.

It is interesting how we measure life with the years we lived. How the moving hands of the clock one day suddenly fill us up with newer aspirations and the calendar graciously takes a bow.