Excursions

While on my morning walk today, I came across a kid who was cycling around our gated community. I see him every day, alone, free — every time I see him, I know he’s enjoying his cycling. Today at a turn, I saw him sitting on the ground, his tumbled cycle next to him. I could see a lady with headphones and a couple busy with their chatters pass by him. The kid was staring down, scratching his knee, focused within.

I felt he wasn’t looking at anything particular, but rather was sad. Maybe he did look at a few people, with expectations, as they passed him by earlier, wishing someone to help him pick his cycle up. Maybe he had his expectations from humanity broken.

Anyway, as I came close to him, I asked him he was fine. All it took was my first word, and he was up on his feet, trying to pick his cycle. Once he gave me his permission to touch his cycle, I helped him get it up on its wheels. He adjusted his tiny spectacles over his nose with his wrist, mumbled a few words and paddled along. I soon saw him chasing pigeons with his cycle, the birds not flying away but hopping around. It looked as if the friends often played this game. In my opinion, his tumble today was a test that we adults failed.

What have we become as a Soceity that we prefer to remain plugged in to our digital worlds, that we don’t even acknowledge a saddened kid who simply needs a nudge to get back to enjoying the realities of life?

I feel I have been struggling to find quiet time to read and write recently. I can blame it on many things, but I know within that I am to blame for this feeling. When I get time, I waste it. I convince myself that I need to relax first to get in the groove before I can write or read. I have been relaxing for a few weeks now, and it has only made me more tired.

This leaves me frustrated. Lazy consumption of other’s work is meaningless if it does not trigger any thought. I do that the most these days. I read, but I do not think. I write, but they are shallow thoughts. When do I spend time to churn a few ideas? To word them into something profound? You should write what feels right, I understand. But if it is only the deserts you chomp on, you won’t feel satiated after a point.

I need action, both to my mind and my body. Isn’t it curious that long phases of inactiveness can slowly wear them down? Both readily slide back to their lazy defaults. I need to be strong to push back and to make them move their asses.

Without that, what I have is a dull mind and a couch-clinging body.

Festivals are tiring, sipping away mental and physical energy. There's so much to do. And then some more. It feels as if there is no end to all the grind, the "festivities".

But when it all ends, albeit always abruptly, I wait for the next one.

Because festivals are necessary. They break the mundane, pause the regularities. I am surrounded by things deemed special, of different nature and scale.

For some, it is the dim lights in the porch. For others, it is the sparkles in the sky.

For some, it is the loud chatters. For others, it is the silent smiles.

For some, it is the crowd. For me, it is the family!

Here's to another year of togetherness during the few months of the biggest festivals around the world.

It was a wonderful festive time for me. And I wish you all a very happy Diwali!

No face, yet conveys so many emotions. A pen stand I love! #stationerylove

I wish I understood Halloween celebrations better. I see so many carved out Pumpkins, I wonder is carving and the decoration part of the tradition and celebrations. It must take months of planning to get things in place at the right time.

Some days are just way more productive than what you are used it. Today’s one such day. It dawned with a possibility that things would just go downhill – there were too many unaddressed tasks and open issues. But as it turns out, the evening feels a lot more peaceful.

“Luck is near you,” reads a drawing that my daughter made and gifted me. I’ve framed it and put it at my desk. I don’t know why she felt the need to write those words. But having such a thoughtful daughter makes me the luckiest dad out there.

When my daughter requested recently if she can have her YouTube channel, I wondered if she would manage to keep her interest. She does. She reads, writes and keeps recording. Sure, not everything comes out perfect. But she does not stop. Today, her second video is out. Yay!

I spent a wonderful evening with close friends yesterday whom I met after a long period, some after more than 10 years. It’s remarkable how time can’t slacken some threads, lost possibly in the dull grinds of the life. You pick these threads from where you left them. As you remember the memories of yesteryears, you can laugh at them — or be affected by the updates from people that are not around you at this moment.

You know your bond with a few folks is strong when they can lend the present moment innate warmth. You feel a deep kinship, regardless of how much time has passed since you last met them. Yesterday evening was one such occasion, when we tickled many old memories and made a few new ones.

Why’s the colour of everything marked unisex so bland? Who decided that mens don’t like any colours other than black or grey or silver? Or who decided that women will only like pink or purple? Why can’t I go on to a street carrying any non-black coloured umbrella and not get stares that judge me?

Some might say it’s trivial, yet I find this behaviour extremely frustrating. We claim we are making progress on multiple levels, yet we continue to stick our age-old presumptions of choices among sexes. And you know what, I have a theory why the choices of colours specifically are advertised in a way they are.

Professional places are bland — colours aren’t professional. Life and playfulness is colourful. So, who do we see as a professional? Well, of course, men. And who’s all about play? Right? Right?

Do you want to test this hypothesis? Here are Google Image searches for “man with umbrella” — how many blacks do you see there? Now, here’s the results’ page for “woman with umbrella”. Same question, how many blacks do you see there? Plus, what other commonality do you see among the images that are on the page? What’s the look that men are flaunting? And what about women? The industry is infuriating. Sigh!