Well, to begin with the blog, I must confess in the very beginning that this is no travel blog. This is also not a socio cultural wonderland and nor is it some kind of a blog which is trying to preach life motivating ideas and views. Instead, if I can just define it- I would rather put it this way, “this blog can take you beyond the points in a circular life. “The circular life often includes a culmination of birth, process of birth further followed by death.”

If you notice a normal human life today, in a big or small town or city whether in India or any other part of the world- you would note a few common points and life seems stale in its bearings with much less new.

The story of a life can be painted in just a few mere words-

1) The first struggle begins in the mother who tries to bring the baby into this world.

2) Second struggle is that of the baby.

3) If the baby has caught the rhythm of the world, half a marathon is won by the family, however if not, so is the case, then the struggle is on.

4) This very thought begins to teach the child, few things which would make the world a lesser place to live, few things which act negatively on the world’s face, thus chopping the individual away from the goodness. So, it learns jealousy, selfishness, anger, depression, fear, idleness, stubbornness, lying, cheating and as these processes begin to grip the child firmly, causing a slow asphyxiated death, it revolts in its final hours with whatever remains, killing one or more in return. The poison thus, being recirculated back to Nature.

5) More struggle to survive causing tunnel vision which makes people one dimensional thinking of benefitting only themselves and their Keith’s and kind, worker form of tunnel vision appear when a man loses its ability to think of anyone other than his own, vey own.

6) Finally, death ensues slowly gripping a man by his neck and pulling us away for this life. I am sure, a man while leaving Earth either feels like a rabbit or the pigeon. I have always tried imagining what I would feel like. Well, the answer that came out was anything else but, neither a rabbit nor a pigeon, of course.

A rabbit in its final moments buries its head in the burrow thinking its all safe and a pigeon shuts her eyes, immobilising completely.

“Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places

Where other people see nothing.” Camille Pissarro

Now, this story goes like this, the story where a soul struggles to find an answer. How much can you go to find an answer to a question which is almost killing you. But, also knowing to not run behind everything can save us from being a freaking mad.

Now this girl has got some troubles from the world which includes but not excluding

1) She has a mother recuperating not from breast cancer, but he trauma left behind by a disease. The trauma sadly, doesn’t try to devour a single person but many together, it tries to suck, even the ones who stand at the far end of the circle.

2) Her inner need to understand how things work.

3) An unstable home and family- the one which stood like a pillar once struggles to survive even the weakest whiff of wind.

4) A world ful, of bystanders whose mouths have turned into lava emanating volcanoes. Nothing matters to them except the growing desires in the skewed eyes of the vultures who wait with bated breaths, to lean on the fallen grounds for a fat reward.

5) The general differences existing in the world – be it the man woman, good and bad, theist atheist or rather vague religious differences.

Seeing the beauty hidden in some event which has the seemingly awful power of anhiliating you from the very roots is a work which only a hard core optimist can seek. But, even hard core optimists are humans. How much do you think a human can endure, not more than

1) five sleepless nights.

2) temperatures below 0 and above 50 degree Celsius.

3) a week without food

4) few days without water

5) a soul without a prolonged or intermittent source of love takes only a year to three to wither into a monster.

6) a body takes a year to die when pebbled each day

7) a mind takes only a day or two to die when exposed to unwanted, unnecessary and harmful actions in one heavy dose.

All these are mostly irreversible reactions. What remains might not be a human being, but yes, merely a human- alive, zombie or dead.

Our girls decides to transcend time. She decided she would not die, she decided she would begin nurturing love and all other things needed to be alive, but, for it, there was a need to break out of the circle in which she grew up. The devouring speed be slacked. She needed a telomerase and an endonuclease.

An endonuclease is to nick a circle in which she was moving.

A telomerase to prevent the rapid movement towards entropy.

Travelling was her only option. Travelling to the roots where she began the journey, somewhere closer to it, somewhere in and around that world. Places she went when she was young. Places whose language she knew, which spoke through emptiness and peace.

She knew she was blessed to behold the beauty in all these humble places. She shred other from her life and became one with herself- with the girl who lived beyond age and rigorous rules.

Meera left home for a job and soon found out that a thug consultancy had put her in a BPO. No that, people don’t work there, but that job was not something she was looking at.

So, she ducked her head and worked for 2 months, and a month of training, collected money and ran home, with a shoe string budget, she knew she had a purpose to fulfill.

The train took her to Delhi, but unfortunately Mathura ke paedhe (a form of sweet famous in this place) made her sick. Then with a painful tummy she travelled to Manali where she decided to halt since it was no longer possible to move on. It took five days to Manali, as the tummy healed in the goodness of the budget hotel as curious hotel boys and working ladies peered through dark thoughts trying to look less shocked than they were, their own woman ravelling alone to find solace.

“Now, we Indians do not understand solace. Who cares to seal he winds of heart when the physical wounds are so abundantly strewn across?”

However, they remained merely contended with occasional peeping, glancing, knocking at the door in odd hours either early morning or late in the night post ten to check if I was a thug who would flee with something from the hotel.

Well, on the third and last day of my stay, seeing many foreign women traversing the paths alone, they decided to leave me in peace, considering that I was one of those rebellious girls beginning the process of breaking the norm of home and the world.

i had not felt so good in the last three years- with only me to guide me, fight me, love me, hate me, hide me. I roamed around the woods of Manali on foot, stopping at simple vegan restaurants. The water worked miracles on my aching tummy, the smell of huge pines, the cold did the trick and brought my rouge back on my cheeks and in the last two days I was on my feet again.

to be Contd…….