'Criti....que not Criti....cize'

Sunday, 26 Nov 2023, 7 AM On a rustic chair that seems like it is from another era, I sit with my jacket as the breeze nudges the wind chimes, as if to greet me this morning.  I breathe in not just the nature around me, but the solitude, the calmness and the stories of all those who were here before me. Not in Bengaluru have I ever managed to sit up this early on a Sunday morning to experience the calmness. If at all, I must have been trying to hear closely and trying to understand the lyrics of the song blaring from the garbage collecting vehicle (precisely at 6:50 AM). The place is nestled in Sakleshpur— Halemane ( Kannada;  hale =old, mane =home)—Dev's home. Four of us landed here last afternoon, weary tourists at the entrance, all silently weighing in on the choice they had made.  Though rustic, welcoming and beautiful in a strange sort of way, it just felt too disconnected from civilisation—until of course, Dev stepped out to greet us along with Naveen, ...

My uncle and aunt got married on Oct 20, 1997. I earned a new family that day. It was a bumper prize for a 4-year-old me -- two aunts (thanks to Chinni didi)? Na, elder sisters? Not sure how I defined those relationships then. But I remember being happy and excited at the prospect of visiting them or them visiting us. My first tryst with a tiny box that housed eye lenses; many different shades of nail polishes (there was one that was colourless and yet delivered a star on each nail, that sat beautifully on my little fingers) were all thanks to them. Oh, how can I forget that magical make up box that seemed to open up wondrous things that gleamed and seemed magical for a kid then! In between those experiences, there were two people -- Rao aunty and uncle (as I called them long before my brother and uncle and aunt's kids were born. Then they added terms like 'thaathu' into my vocabulary).  Saraswati Rao Aunty, a constant presence, was probably my first...

9:02 AM Bangalore airport Two people, post typing their out-of-office automated replies, sit looking at the crowds passing by. Bangalore airport doesn't seem empty. Neither at this hour, nor when we had reached around 2 hours earlier.  Brother called to enquire why may have his most trusted G-Pay given up. G-Pay seemed to have reached its limit when they tried settling some hospital bills...just like the life that had decided it had reached its limit some 3 hours earlier. Try debit card then, said the husband.  Strange, isn't it? The person who peeped into the phone screen over a video call to ask how our recent trip had been, while sitting on a sofa now rests in a mortuary, waiting for those people to bypass the screen and reach her, one last time. Guess the very last time... There is no alternative here, like in the case of G-Pay. Ammamma, ini ormakal maathram .  From school, straight into the house. The walk gains momentum as soon as she enters the house. T...

Today, I got to know that a school friend of mine had lost her husband. To death. Do people lose to death? Or do they win it as a bonus for having lived a life?  A friend's message that was seen two hours later paused the world for me in between the race against time to attend meetings, complete a set of tasks and take time out to breathe in the cold November air.  Where was she? What must she be doing right now? What about her young son? Does he know his father had left? These and a number of other questions kept reverberating in the back of my mind even as I adjusted the switch below the mouse to get on with the day's tasks even as my friend's world had probably paused, kilometres away. Funny, isn't it--I didn't have even her number on my phone till evening-- and we have been friends for more than a decade. The heart feels the way it does. The first memory that flashed in front of my eyes was the day when both of us were walking home post school hours and he had a...

Communication, not literary elegance, should matter in the Field, says the Founder Editor of People's Archive of Rural India (PARI). "Questions before the start of a session, anyone?" Silence. "But you were asking me questions outside the hall." Laughs. Stares. Some hands shot up after a moment's thought. Doubts met with crisp answers. More laughs. Intense thinking.  This was just the precursor to what was to ensue throughout the 1.5-hour special lecture titled 'Thinking on your feet, reporting on the move-Field reporting in rural India' , by P Sainath, at Azim Premji University, on 28 September 2022. Asim Siddiqui, Faculty member, Azim Premji University, introduced the speaker The questions were from students who have been out on the Field as part of their Field immersion routines at Azim Premji University.  P Sainath, at his honest best, presented fact after fact for the audience to compile and examine by taking a backseat, in a room that did not d...

How to Travel Light: My Memories of Madness and Melancholia by Shreevatsa Nevatia My rating: 4 of 5 stars Publisher: Penguin Random House India ISBN: 9386815885, 9789386815880 No. of pages: 256 I remember reading about the book back when it released in 2017. Since then, it's been at the back of my mind. For some or the other reason, I could not lay my hands on a copy of it. And now in 2021 at a book fair, the moment I saw it, I knew I had to pick it up.  4 years later, when I finally completed reading it last night, I knew that the universe was conspiring for the right moment for me to have it. The complexities of one's mind and the daily battles one is a part of has been described to the tee. Four years back, it may have been a little difficult, considering the phase of life I was in. But today, I can say I had a ringside view of being bipolar in India.  Having known someone who has been a part of the ups and downs of being bipolar, and having had first hand experiences, it...

A tradition started 12 years ago. At the cusp of adulthood, but while in school (class 12, to be precise); when romance novels were Where Rainbows End, Dear John, Message in a Bottle and  P.S. I Love You ; when promises were made and felt rather deeply by the heart (not that they aren't now) -- Karwa Chauth was taken up with a whimsical approach. Karwa Chauth -- a day of fasting (without consuming even a drop of water post the sargi)  usually undertaken by Indian married women every year post Dussehra and before Diwali (that's how I always remember it) -- assumed more importance thanks to Bollywood with its smattering of Karwa Chauth in many of the movies I grew up watching. Also, I found the north Indian rituals and festivals amusing as a South Indian (Keralite). For someone who witnessed wedding rituals lasting for not more than two minutes back home, the Big Fat Indian Wedding, popularised by Bollywood and stories by north Indian friends alike, fascinated me no end.  W...