Brisk night walk, gaping at the moon.

You overhear snatches of a song and stop short.

You still remember every line  every riff. 

(The Things We Said Today.)

You remember the person you once were.

The moon looks down....

 The full moon looked down upon lit skyscrapers,  calmly.

Shimmered over sleeping sand dunes, so distant.

Tucked away in the cold.

.

 A cold breeze wafts from the desert, winter finally, or something like it.

The evening sky is a delicate peach amber....

The mukhda I somewhat remember... the antara I don't ...scrambling for words after 36 years...mil gaya, thanks google!

 Your 10th DA today, Baba. That dawn never to be forgotten.

Somewhere i am still the bawling two year old demanding to see light dancing on water st two in the night.

I miss you. 

 A sliver of a moon... and then it was gone!

 Uttarayan! 

A sky full of kites..

in the sunshine, a young kid with a friends cap, jumping about... eternity

the sun gets into my eyes

  Prisha, age 4,asks "Aunty, how long does it take to comb your hair?"

"Ten minutes..."

"But so long..." she says

"Yes, it is long." I say

"Like Rapunzels.."

"But mine is all silver.. see? She had golden hair.." I say

"Put black color" says Prisha, age 4.

L'Oreal,  a legacy business for all time.

 And before you know it, a new year, a year of miracles and amazing surprises....

 The secret to a perfect daal now is to sprinkle stardust,  admix soul breath to a blend of spices, mix gently.

sunshine lazes

On silver mane

Winter morning

 Unseasonal rains again. 

The banyan tree has fruited.

The badam sprang to life with new flowers. The panchang, almanac, has an extra month but they didn't get the memo.

Rain drizzles, manna from the heavens. Like a prayer, answered.

2020. Anything can happen.

Something I was waiting for very keenly, didn't happen. At the back of my mind I knew the work was good, but not good enough, not great, and it may have used a few more tweaks and turns.
So why am I upset at the result? Perhaps I miss that "soaking in the pit of morose sentimentality".
Amusing, all.

In The Deccan Herald!

My first ever opinion piece. Whoever thought it would be about politics.Still reeling.

https://www.deccanherald.com/lok-sabha-election-2019/opinion-who-is-the-most-arrogant-of-them-all-733145.html


 Amazing turnaround time.

Much gratitude.

At the SWA event yesterday, Uri writer director Aditya Dhar interviewed by veteran screenwriter Robin Bhatt.
A full house. Standing space only.

So much energy in the room you could send a spaceship to the moon.
Long time tryers. Freshers with stars n hope in their eyes. Several one of a kind..Like the Amritsar businessman who had ideas but no time. Or the tall, muscled Uttarakhandi with flowing hair n rhyming verse. The boy from the home town who gets up at 5 AM to write n juggles his software job...so many stories in  that room.
Mr Dhar spoke about how his 2010 short , Boond, worked as a visiting card lever into the industry.  And yet 13 years to where he is today.  The script itself written in 12 frenzied days...after 6 months of intensive pursuit of research.

So many stories....

The yatra of many lifetimes...

Registrations for the Kailash Mansarovar Yatra have begun.

SEE: kmy.gov.in

Trek the Lipulekh route, to know how the ancients went.  Govt. takes diligent care of each batch, each yatri.

Yet you may reach the final pass into Tibet and not make it. Or you might, leading from the front, like our Bajpaiji, the oldest in our batch.

Jaisi Bholenath ki marzi.

If you've ever dreamt about it, GO!

Rakshas Tal

Enroute Deraphuk 

Madhuradhipatey akhilam madhuram!

Lines from this song took me back over 40 years almost instantly. 1974...

The Spring festival, Vasant Utsav, at the school on the hill. Walking in procession with music and cymbals honoring the King of Spring. 

With a special volume of verse and prose written in our best 4th standard handwriting.

I hear the maestro and can hear our childish voices... madhuradhipate akhilam madhuram!

Sunswept

Sunswept...
Today morning two complete strangers remembered and asked about Baba.
it's been 8 years and counting.
Sunshine n joy, that's where he is.

Thrilled with Coming Home published on Kitaab.

https://kitaab.org/2018/04/23/short-story-coming-home-by-pravinsinh-chavda/

"Bambai mein paisa hawa mein udta hai... aapko pakadna aana chahiye"

Money flutters about in the breeze in Mumbai, you should know how to grasp it.

Wisdom from a rickshaw walla.