Category: English

  • A trip down the memory lane…

    A trip down the memory lane…

    Imagine a room of a kid who’s barely out of his teens. For the sake of the story, let’s call him Bandya. Ohh, you think it’s out of fashion name? So, shall it be Sunny? Good! So, imagine Sunny’s room. What do you see? A single bed towards a wall, flooding with all sorts of thing that you would wonder if it has a mattress on it or not. A clutter of headphones, charger cables, iPad, heap of cloths and Sunny himself. How can you even expect to see a piece of mattress with all this? This is just a one side of the room.

    On the other side, a corner specially designed for ‘studying’ which has not seen much of the use. A stack of course books which would be touched only a couple of days before exams is on the table and a huge paper pile gathered over the years. Another corner is for the sporting equipment for cricket or badminton. A room is incomplete without a special nook carved for a computer desk where you would find sunny if he’s not on his bed.

    The reason for which I am telling you all these details is, so that you can enjoy the story I am going to narrate. Just like us, Sunny’s mum had taken all the clutter in from her vantage point at the door. Sunny had really tested her limits this time. She sprang into action and without giving Sunny a chance to escape, she pulled him out of the bed.

    “If I don’t see this cleared and tidied you are not getting lunch today. So Mr. Sunny, better get going.”, she issued an ultimatum. “Then, I’ll go out for lunch.” He tried acting smart. After giving him a cold stare for a moment, she just left the room. At the door, she turned, closed it and just bolted it from outside. Sunny was so dumbstruck with this mood that he couldn’t even comprehend what has transpired. “Want to head out for lunch? Go if you can!” she roared. “Clean it up and I will open the door.”

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    In a fit of anger, he too bolted the door from inside, as if he was trying to keep the whole family locked up in other rooms. He even tried throwing stuff around. Understanding the futility of the situation, he decided to clean the room at last. Even the room almost gave out a sigh with a thought of getting a much-awaited tidying up.

    Sunny started pulling all the clutter down on the floor. Once everything was on the floor, he sat in the middle and started going through it. If you would have looked at the scene, you would feel like standing in a stall selling second hand things in a weekly bazaar. When he started sorting a pile of papers from the table, he wasn’t sure from when the pile was growing. It had papers almost from his first grade. While looking at all those bits and bobs, he was forgetting that he has to tidy all of this. He was losing himself in a maze of memories associated with all those things.

    He could see all of his friends, and the fun they had during his school days. The pile had bunch of photos taken during birthdays, festivals. Tickets of the movies they watched; class photos taken for every year. A box of greeting cards given by friends collected which he had collected over the years. He was so engrossed in this that he lost the track of time.

    His mum, oblivious to Sunny’s trip in memory land, was waiting for him to plead for lunch. When he didn’t turn up even their usual lunch time passed, she came to check up on him. She tried calling him, but no response. Sunny was so lost that he didn’t hear the calls. She opened the bolt just to find it locked from the inside. This ticked her off again and she gave up on him and bolted the door again. She went on to have her lunch and keep working according to her own schedule.

    When Sunny came back from his long stroll of memory lanes, clock was showing 5PM. A growling tymmy made him realised the hunger. He just tidied everything quickly and went to the door to go to the kitchen for food. When he tried opening it but it didn’t budge. He tried again and then remembered the whole episode which had put him in this space at the first place.

    He called out to his mother to open the door. She was waiting for his calls already so she rushed to his room and opened the door from outside. She started firing all sorts of questions. “What were you doing so far? why didn’t you answered when I came to call him for lun…” She almost froze in mid-sentence as she took a tidied room in. It was a shocking transformation. She just pulled him into her arms and took him to the kitchen for his much-delayed lunch. She was looking at him eating silently with teary eyes…


    This post is a part of Blogchatter Blog Hop. Read more stories like this here.

  • 2024, a new beginning?

    2024, a new beginning?

    It’s already been 10 days into the new year of 2024. Since the world has witnessed, endured and came out (?) from the pandemic, I have seen two types of reactions. One who celebrates every small bit of success, appreciating their new lease on life. The others who feel celebrations are useless, mind filled with uncertainty. I am yet to figure out where I belong. So at the beginning of a new year, it puts me into a difficult position. To celebrate, or not to celebrate, that’s the question?

    What really happened in 2020?

    I wasn’t the person who celebrated new year, birthdays, anniversaries of loved ones with a pomp before this lockdown and all. However I am glad that no harm came to me or my close-ones during that melancholic period of lockdown on accounts of the deadly virus. Yet there was a lot happening in the personal space. Even with the benefit of hindsight, I am not able to figure out that whatever turns life has taken, are they leading to better days ahead or not. After four years, it’s still unclear. Moments stayed with me from these four years are so few that fingers of my two hands would be enough.

    A few of you may find this a very random rumble about a dull life. But I look at this as a way to crystalize my thoughts. I hope some of you will agree with me on the usefulness of putting thoughts on paper (or screen). “Consistency is the key”, they say, when it comes to creativity. Well, it definitely took a toll. You must have seen me writing blogs very rarely in a past couple of years. I had started my own YouTube channel where I recited my poems for you all. It turned out to be a short endeavour. There is one thing I am being consistent with is my reading. I have been reading more and more books per year since pandemic.

    They kept me on track

    Books have been strong and steady companions for me throughout my life. Recently, I went digital and discovered a whole new experience of reading. Nowadays, I read ebooks on kindle and listen to audiobooks. However this doesn’t mean that my love for good old printed books has decreased. The only change is that I rarely buy new paper books. Whenever I want to enjoy reading in old ways, I turn to my collection of my favourites.

    Well in 2024, I am looking forward to continuing my reading journey. I recently bought a whole set of फास्टर फेणे (Faster Fene) written by B R Bhagwat. This particular series has a strong nostalgia attached to it. When you own a complete set, it feels like a dream has come true, which you had left way back in your childhood.

    At the new beginning

    So, here we are, when we have passed that beginning phase. A routine has now settled in. I am beginning a new journey. Where I want to keep walking without worrying about the destination. Maybe this is what being consistent means. Hope you all will read my writings again frequently and share your thoughts on the same. I am glad to be back in touch with you all! See you around…

  • Banaras – a Strong Call of an Unknown Connection

    Banaras – a Strong Call of an Unknown Connection

    I felt in my heart that I should not miss this opportunity. It was a strong call to ignore. As if Banaras was calling me. This all started after a virtual get-together of the extended Blogchatter community about earlier this year. Almost everyone was very excited with the idea of an offline retreat coming around September – October.

    By April, the destination was fixed. As soon as I got to know it’s going to be Banaras, I felt a strong pull towards it. I had never been to this oldest city in the world. And yet, it felt that there is something which is calling me back. I had to go. I don’t think I had planned any of my trips this early.

    What an experience it was!

    Our retreat was organized in a very beautifully restored Guleria Kothi on the banks of Maa Ganga. That added to the pull I was feeling inside me. Even though I wasn’t sure what we were going to do in the retreat, I had decided that this had to happen. I scrambled all my resources and just fixed my spot. Boy, oh boy! I am so delighted with those 3 days we all spent together. I enjoyed my time exploring the city, invoking creativity through various sessions, and going on a boat ride on Ganga on a rainy morning. It was a total fun!

    While roaming around the narrow lanes of Banaras, colourful and artsy doors of old houses in the city fascinated me. My mind kept playing Kabir bhajans in a loop. These might be the lanes through which Kabir himself must have roamed in the city humming his own writings. Kumar Gandharvaji‘s tunes of those nirguni bhajans got an additional layer for me after my trip to Banaras. I also got to listen to another flavour of these bhajans from Umesh Kabir during one of our sessions of retreat.

    The return journey from Banaras to Pune via Mumbai was very eventful. Mahanagari express decided to be so late travelling over 1500 km, that it was terminated one stop before the scheduled station. I had to literally run to catch my connecting train to Pune.

    Answering the mystic call

    I summarise my experience of Banaras in this poem answering a mystic call from an unknown connection which I feel that I share with this oldest city of Banaras.

    कुछ है जो आज भी मुझे वापस खींच रहा है।
    वैसे तो रहा था बस ही चार दिन और,
    लौटे हुए कई हफ्ते हो गए है। लेकिन..
    मन अभी भी भटक रहा है उन तंग गलियों में।
    शायद जहा कही कबीर, तुलसी के पैर लगे होंगे।
    मां गंगा का विशाल रूप आंखों में बस सा गया है।
    मजधार में तैरती इस नाव की तरह मैं भी खींचा जा रहा हूं।
    बहता जा रहा हूं ..
    लगता है कोई पुराना रिश्ता है इस शहर से,
    पांच हजार सालों के इतिहास में ढूंढना भी तो मुश्किल है?


    To read more such stories, browse Adi’s Journal pages.

  • An Impulse – Best fuel for alluring creativity

    An Impulse – Best fuel for alluring creativity

    I have been mulling over a thought since I drafted my first post of this blogging August Half Marathon a couple of weeks ago. I had written the first one easily and personally i feel it had turned out qite a nice piece. Since then, I had been pondering about what to write other 9 posts about before the time ends. However it felt like my mind was empty. I wasn’t ready to put my pen on the paper.

    It was a constant thought running in back of my mind that I have to write 9 more posts. Today is the 4th day of the marathon and I have already lost almost all extra days which I had. With fait this background buzz, I was reading some document which needed my comments sitting at my office dest.

    It was just like a flash

    Suddenly it started raining. Not a drizzel which picked up a momentum later. It was like a sudden impluse just like a burst of creativity which has to come out in one form or the other. Afternoon was oddly on the hotter side and this splashing shower came down as a relief. A poem by Ba. Bha. Borkar aka Bakibaab came to my mind.

    घन वरसे रे,
    घन वरसे रे..
    वरसे जलसर
    आले सर सर.
    मल्हारचे स्वरसे रे..

    बा. भ. बोरकर

    I couldn’t keep my eyes on the document anymore. A sudden urge to capture this moment came and grabbed my phone to record some clips of this pouring rain. I recorded a bit of it from a couple places from my office and stood by one of the windows to enjoy the rain.

    I must have been there just about a minute. Suddenly, showers just stopped as if someone had turned off the tap in clouds. The whole thing could not have even lasted for 10 minutes.

    As I am writing this post, clouds have parted clearing the space for the Sun to shining back. These sudden showers acted as a fuel for my creativity as I have gladly created a small reel for my instagram @adisjoural leaving me humming one more poem describing game of tags played by rain and sunshine during the month of Shravan from my childhood.

    श्रावणमासी हर्ष मानसी हिरवळ दाटे चोहीकडे;
    क्षणात येते सरसर शिरवे क्षणात फिरूनी ऊन पडे.

    बालकवी (त्र्यंबक बापूजी ठोंबरे)

    This post is a part of Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023. If you like to read more of my thoughts, please check this

  • Schism of isms – an unnerving bigotry

    Schism of isms – an unnerving bigotry

    “My truth is the only truth and you all should bow down to it…” A thought cropped up in a human mind and the first spark of Ideological friction flamed. We used to express our differences of opinion by discussions and discourses. But now we as a society have stooped down the baser instincts of humans and took some bloody turns throughout human history. Today around us, we are witnessing rising tensions in various factions of society across the world. Schism is appearing on the surface.

    The words ending with ‘ism’ have become gospel truths which are to be parroted and invoked without understanding the meaning, thoughts and philosophy behind it. Masses have flocked behind them and formed their sects and cults with “ready to die for” attitudes. Personally, I can accept it up to a limit. Believing in an idea or propagating it is a welcome thought. However, when you believe in a thought, you shouldn’t be against something. Nowadays, if you are a believer of one ‘ism’ you have to be ‘anti’ another.

    Let me give you an example

    Just think of the current state of Feminism. It started as a movement which started with a just cause, equality and rights. Today a few of the followers have taken a very different route. These days if you are a believer/supporter of feminism, some people think you have to be ‘Anti-men’. Feminism started as a fight for having equal rights and dignity, a proper balance. However, it appears from a few extreme views floating in the ether  of this universe that this movement is trying to take up a path of ‘female supremacy’. But this will turn out to be a see-saw instead of a balance of justice. If we continue on this course, it will become a cyclical process. 

    Paolo Frier in his ‘Pedagogy of The Oppressed’ warns and reminds about the correct course for any movement. “The oppressed must not, in seeking to regain their humanity, become in turn oppressors of the oppressors, but rather restorers in the humanity of both.”

    In today’s time of influential social media, information explosion, superfast internet and propaganda; polarisation is a very easy thing to achieve. Opportunists are always out there to harness this herd power for their own selfish reasons. It’s our duty as a society to be strong and keep our discretion and reason intact. Bioses are everywhere. Agents of chaos are lurking around to widen the schism of isms. It’s a call of the hour to be alert and think. Let’s unite together to work towards harmony and not fall prey to these schisms, “For vs Anti” divide. 


    This post is a part of Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023. If you like to read more of my thoughts, please check this

  • Charming Spell of Desai’s “Shriman Yogi”

    Charming Spell of Desai’s “Shriman Yogi”

    In honor of the former president of India late Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam, Maharashra celebrates “Reading Inspiration Day” on 15th of October. On that occasion I wrote a post about the book which inspired me in the world of books. It cultivated a hobby of reading. It was a Marathi post. Today I have the opportunity to bring that book in front of a wider audiance through Blogchatter’s bloghopping prompt.

    There’s a cupboard in my house, my grandma’s cupboard. It’s filled with all sorts of books. This is the story of my entry into the enchanting world of books. I must have been in 4th or 5th standard back then. But back in those days, my interaction with that cupboard was limited to stealing some glances at them if the door is open. My grandpa used to be a member of big public library in Nashik. So those borrowed books was in house too. But I never felt like picking one up and read.

    But one day, it was all supposed to change.

    I think it was a summer break for my school. I dared one afternoon and opened that cupboard. While browsing through the shelves, reading book titles and author names on spines of well stacked books. However, one particular book caught my eye. It was quite a huge chunky book. But the size didn’t grab my attention. Binding of the book was unique. Unique yellowish hard bound cover was unmarked. It didn’t bear any title, any name. I grabbed that book and took it out. It felt quite heavy at that time, with 1000 plus pages in a hard cover binding. I opened the cover and title in bold orange caught my eye.

    “श्रीमान योगी”. For obvious reasons, i couldn’t understand the meaning of the words. Yet I stated reading it. And man, what a joy it was! Ranjeet Desai is the man who showed me the what joy of reading meant. There must be something about Chatrapati Shivaji Maharaj back in school that year, to story in book felt much more gripping and interesting than chapters of my textbook. I was oblivious to the greatness of this author. I finished the book in straight 3 days, loosing track of food, sleep, playtime and all other attractions which a 10 years old kid could have in late 90s.

    After this, there was no turning back

    I got hooked on the habit of reading. I started picking up the books borrowed from library. Many of which I have left unfinished as I couldn’t understand a thing in it at that age. But I have read this particular book number of times. Even now, I pull this one off the shelf and start reading from a random page. It still gives me the same pleasure. Recently I bought two short story collections of Desai’s stories. I have finished बाबूलमोरा and will start मोरपंखी सावल्या now as my next read.

    Fortunately for you all, Vikrant Pande has translated this Marathi book into English and Harper Collins has published it Under Name of “Shivaji: The Great Maratha”. So, grab your copy and let me know what you think.


    This post is a part of Blogchatter Blog Hop. If you want any more book recommendations click here, and to listen to my poetry audiobook, checkout this.