A week of many firsts

The first time ever I watched a movie in the matinee show, logging in late at work…A Theory of Everything well worth it.

First time ever I left for an early morning, predawn puja and somber yagna on Ganesh Jayanti.

First time ever I made it to distant Peddar road to the Films Div campus and distant-er Thane both on the same weekend, using public transport. The frugalista in me much satisfied.

First ever I helped albeit in a minor way, with a crow’s rescue.

Yesterday I saw a bright blue kite lying in the parking lot. In the hometown people must be celebrating Uttarayan or as its called… Utraaaaaaaaaaaaaan.  A truly festive life celebration, flying kites and soaking in the sun…a salute to That time of the year when the Sun changes its direction.

For long now I have been thinking of Pitamah Bhishma, lying on a bed of arrows, patiently waiting for the Sun to be in the right quadrant.  Knowing completely well what happened, what was ordained to happen … and his own role, compelled by events long long ago. It had to be this, and no other.  And I think of Baba, in the cocoon of the ICCU  with the whoosh of the AC and the beep of the respirator for company, did he know about Utraan too, did he wait for the day to pass, did he will his exit? On the 19th, it will be 4 years.

Earlier this month, NRG poet Bharat Trivedi’s launch of his latest work Chakravyuh (meaning the impenetrable maze-- from the Mahabharata)-- was a feast for the soul.  Upcoming as well as senior, established poets read aloud their work. I wondered at what kind of a life these people must have led, how closely they must have stayed true to the rhythm, the warp and weft of life... only then could these lines and these words have sprung to life.  The Marathi and English translations of his work, Acchandotsav/ A Festival of Free verse were also formally launched.

I came back humbled. Recharged. Raring to go.

Released today! The Dhauli Review, Winter 2014 features a translated story, Handover. 

Particularly gratifying, satisfying to see this one come to life. The original by Shri Pravinsinh Chavda is titled “Navu patra” or “New actor”—It has his trademark stunning  sense of loss and time having moved on, leaving some stuck in a time warp.

See: www.dhaulireview.com