~Rumi

'It is a sign of intimate friendship,
when speech flows freely from the heart.'

Life's lessons from HP

"Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students. His own very rare gift, Parseltongue - resourcefulness - determination --a certain disregard for rules," he added, his mustache quivering again. "Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that was. Think."

"It only put me in Gryffindor," said Harry in a defeated voice, "because I asked not to go in Slytherin . . . ."

`Exactly, "said Dumbledore, beaming once more. "Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." Harry sat motionless in his chair, stunned.

~Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

A joy revisited

She stepped out during working hours into a glorious summer afternoon thrilled at this little day adventure. The breeze was just about right balancing the heat optimally to the point where the lake in the middle of the buildings beckoned her for a siesta. She trotted on to accomplish the task she had been planning the whole past week. Everyone had told her she needed to lay her hands on it, they had even suggested to get her copies online. Nowadays things are just a click away on the internet you see. She chose to stick to the original plan anyway. The library was quiet, (ironically) as it is meant to be, and empty, barring a few students scattered about and deep into their reading materials. Summers are holidays time and the campus bears a lonely look during the few months this city gets some heat.

It took a little getting around but libraries had been familiar turf, and coming back to one brought a smile on her face. The musty smell emanating in the room full of neatly stacked books sent her into a tizzy. How can searching for a book in a library ever compare to ordering a new one off the net or even buying one at a  bookstore? The cracked edges, yellowing pages, pencilled notes, worn paperbacks.. all the elements that make a book so endearing...all the things a fresher just cannot offer. A book that has passed through so many hands and carries a rich history of its own.

She had it in her hands, her first copy of the series. The smile she now carried was that of a girl in her early teens who had her first brush with reading and knew she had just embarked on a wondrous and life-long journey.

Midnight it was and the first page turned to read 'The Boy Who Lived'.

Mohabbat-e-rickshaw

Yes our very own rickshaw has come to symbolize a romantic outing this summer in Umeå. While enjoying a terrace dinner downtown, we were surprised to see a lady driver pulling on an authentic rick, careening around, with a passenger at the back. She jumped out and started handing out flyers to curious sun baskers. It read 'enjoy a romantic getaway with your beloved, take them for a ride along the river' cost: 50SEK'.

I remember daily rickshaw rides from the bus/metro station, just about avoiding potholes, and almost always hitting a high on the speed bumps, passers by ogling, dealing with loud music on their transistor sets, haggling with the driver at the end of the ride... Phewwww!!!..none of which even remotely bears a romantic note.

An amusing sight it was :-)

Rare gems

In present times there are certain qualities and traits that have become very hard to find...
it is this rarity that makes them exceptionally compelling.

Know thy Now

"Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were."
Marcel Proust

Isn't it true?
Our erring memories tend to paint the past either in vivid bright shades or in depressingly dark colors.
The truth and it's full potential lies in the present moment... a beauty and stillness too if one can willingly surrender to it.

The Cup is back!

There is a spring in the step,
an unshakable grin
euphoria permeating every patriotic cell of mine

sleep might elude me tonight
but today was a very special day :-)

Weird things extreme excitement can induce: Had an urge to watch Tanu weds Manu following the post-match celebrations...and as expected Pappi ji has totally upped my feelings :D

Have been 'yaay'ing at regular intervals today, time to rest my vocals now.

Nurturing Nature

‘There are so many trees in the forest,’
said Rakesh. ‘What’s so special about this
tree? Why do we like it so much?’

‘We planted it ourselves,’ said
Grandfather. ‘That’s why it’s special.’




‘Just one small seed,’ said Rakesh, and
he touched the smooth bark of the tree
that had grown. He ran his hand along
the trunk of the tree and put his finger to
the tip of a leaf.

‘I wonder,’ he whispered.
‘Is this what it feels to be God?’


From Ruskin Bond's The Cherry Tree

Goddess of Dawn

In total awe of the spectacular sky display I witnessed today evening.
The Legendary Auroras were on display... and mighty good they were, considering it is hard to spot them here in Umeå (amongst the city lights), and I caught them parading about in the clear star studded sky, in my night clothes staring out the kitchen door of my flat.
I had almost resigned myself to the idea that I might have to travel

up north to catch 'em.

They popped out of the sky,
white and emerald green
wispy like a cirrus cloud
snaking around the next
appearing one end
bobbing away the other
the sky their canvas
a pretty picture they made

the mighty Auroras
came calling tonite

A moment of revelation

A dream's dusk..
(proved to be)
a truth's dawning,

of lives imprinted
countless the number

In a flash they passed
and I knew
I had lived here, cycles aplenty

Life as I know it, is fleeting

(Yes)I had an encounter with truth
'twas at the edge of a dream.

From 'Signet of Eternity'

This is my delight,
thus to wait and watch at the wayside
where shadow chases light
and the rain comes in the wake of the summer.
Messengers, with tidings from unknown skies,
greet me and speed along the road.
My heart is glad within,
and the breath of the passing breeze is sweet.
From dawn till dusk I sit here before my door,
and I know that of a sudden
the happy moment will arrive when I shall see.
In the meanwhile I smile and I sing all alone.
In the meanwhile the air is filling with the perfume of promise.

Tagore's Geetanjali

(I will keep posting excerpts or entire poems from this collection. The beauty with which Tagore has described his Love and longing for Him is at times indescribable.)

The Night is pretty, white and long

Rustling through freshly fallen snow
like schoolkids walking back home
Singing tunes that jar
pushing around playfully
then in wonderment lost in the wide white forest
in the stillness.. the beauty

face up, eyes closed
to catch and score....the light snow flakes

arms outstretched
turning around in circles
a free bird we are.

Aah the simple joys of a white wintry night :-)