Completely Naive..:)

The whole year passes by, I, pretending always how grown up I am. Like how coolly I can just do everything: Shopping, billing, and blah blah. Just it happened on the morning of 14th Novemeber, when just as the ritual, my dad gave money to my younger brother (who is 14 going to 15) to spend on 'Children's Day'. I, envious even asked for mine. Not just the money I demanded, but 'a right to be a child again' was what I wanted. My dad gave me none. Why? Cos 4 months to go, am gonna be 19.
Depressed, I return back to looking-in-the-mirror-while-brushing. How lame! I say while I bang my brush on the basin. Off to college in the metro, I still dreamed of a few years back, when even I celebrated at school (even buying a spring roll with friends at canteen was a celebration).

The wondrous years passed by, and never had I thought they would pass too soon. Playing whole day, no one to scold. I was the winner of all the games, which comprised of Stappu, gallery, hide n seek and many more. Swinging on the swings, swinging the highest, we always tried to touch the top bar of a tree behind, tremendously while swinging. Bob cut, open, air rushing through them while swinging. How amazing those days were. And I ruled the world, the gang leader I was, in my 3-6th standard school time. Just a few days back it was when I learned to ride a bike with my oldest of oldest friend- Deeksha. Falling down at every paddle, still she pushing me to try again. No heartbreak warfares. No fights, discrimination. Asking for a glass of water after every half an hour of playing from 'Ground floor wali auntie', we used to call. The skipping rope, my record for 117 skips non-stop. Dare would anyone break it. The rolling skates. The dolls. The kitchen set. The daddy's shoulder. The parent's scolds. Going to the school with a water bottle around the neck. Singing the nursery poems with actions. No matter what, I still have maintained the favorite hobby: Fighting with my brother almost daily, pulling my dad's cheek daily and pissing off my sister, again, daily. Watching cartoons is still in my daily catalogue.

So, where did those days go? True- Day by day nothing changes, but when you look back, everything is different. 
And so, arrives Dhaula Kuan Station, I get down. A 15 minutes walk from childhood to adulthood. From school to college.
The day passes just as I superficially wished all "Happy Children's Day". Home back, the celebration starts. Shahi paneer made at home (in which the paneer slicing was done by me, proud) followed by an ice cream. And so, as rightly said by dad-"No matter how much you all grow, you will still and always remain kids for us". (I glanced if that meant for my almost 22 years sis) Relief!

"Some people do not become adult. They just remain childlike ever-green, and luckily, you are one of them", says my mum to me.

Somewhere, we have the infant in us. Let it come out, for a child cannot be caged.
Happy Children's Day to all!

Admiration

I performed the sacrament that evening. Making a red Swastika at two corners of it. While remembering Him, we ignited it. We just performed the holy rituals of being Indian. On the contrary, here it stands for the Sunflame Mirror Relfecto Gas with three gas stoves which replaced our previous one which stood at the same spot for 22 years or so. "May it serve with us with food and never withhold us with hunger", would say my dad, for he is a believer of God in true terms. Isn't it wonderful to be born in this land of God?Its not just about the Stove of course! We all do it even on buying an AC, or a LCD, a car, a bike, a scooty, computer (the Swastika is still here at one of the edge of my computer), laptop and what not. All the things that make our lives simpler are worshiped here. No matter which God we all worship, but we ensure we do, in happiness, in struggle, in vein, in regret. How often we remember Him, is not a matter, rather how often we thank him is the matter.

"India is the only country which has over 300 crore Gods for which we are in Guinness Book of World Records", would say my dad with proud, transferring his proud in me. "Yes, we worship everything for plants to rivers to trees to stones to soil to animals to everything", he continued. I would keep it as 'superstition' in my mind long back. But, not now. I have grown seeing His presence in many things & people. For those who haven't witnessed Him, I wish they would do it soon, so that they know the real meaning of life.
I remember lighting up a diya in front of our scooty and car each year at Diwali. Never had I asked why we do it. Earlier I did it just cos dad had asked me to. Now, I know why I do it. At festivals however, even those who do not worship daily are filled with His vicinity completely in & out.
This happens only here. Here in the land of God. His ubiety in almost all the living as well as non-living things. We all worship the birth of Him, the return of Him, the marriage of Him, the victory of Him. Who knows when and where did this all betide. It was manifested long back. We all grow up and forget and move over the things from childhood to adulthood. But, dare we forget one thing- His emanation.
So, I ensure, I "Thank God for everything in life" daily. Whether at College (for we belong to & study at God's own residence) or at evening at home-temple (as I would say). For everything that was, is, and will be, is a gift and celebration of Him.
Yes, we belong to the land of vivacity, to the country of unity between thousands and crores of worshipers. And so, His fraction of soul resides among us all.

A woman prays on Chhat pujan

Amen

The "Sound"

I just started as a sort of awakening five-six years back when the tunes touched by soul. So deep, that it enlightened me just by means of strings, no words required. Pathetically, I used to listen his reyas in morning at 6 am. Not to be hypothetical now, he is a 45-50 years old man. And the stairs moved as like in Hogwards, from the floor of westernized music to Indian rooted one.
For now, its hard for me to see, the tabla being exchanged by a drum, the sitar & tanpura by guitars of different styles, harmonium by piano and flute by saxophone. An infamous saying- "One must learn to transform with the world". However the auxiliary standpoint is -"One the contrary, one must even learn to hold the roots".
Duly, I would dig up into 90's songs. {Correction: The 'awesome' 90's songs). It just made me more barmy. Admitted into my board of interest, was Kailash Kher. Being an admirer of his "Teri Deewani" which's video was launched in 2004. The music which turned the wave of music into a very requisite & jeopardized manner. This song is like a drug to me which I cannot do without. And yes, I sleep only once my mind and soul swims into this song, satisfactorily.
More than that, what would thrill me was an instrumental music, filled with chords, even more than any song. The best thesis which I found were on a violin, which a girl in my society agreed to play it for me, daily. Exclusively, Ode to Joy- Beethovan & My blue Shoe- Bishop
And the chords on piano, always awestruck me! I somehow learned to play the stanza of My Immortal- Evanescence & Where'd you go- Fort minor, which am sure even a 5th standard child can play.
Then comes another - A flute. My brother knows to play it, so I would haul him occasionally and get something out of that wooden piece. However, the flute at the background of Teri Deewani catches my ear more often than the lyrics.  My best were many pieces from Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasiya and the omnipresent- Ustaad Bismillah Khan ji. How eagerly I used to ask my father to bring him play at my future wedding.

The blend is here though, The Deewarists- "Musicians led by passion embark on a journey to discover places, inspire change, explore sound, collaborate .. in a search of a song.. Because some things are just worth doing"- The say.
Star World
Sundays
8pm

Must watch!