Coming Home

So much flexibility to the definition of home over the years… What started of as the brick and mortar of the family and abode of childhood memories to something that can even fit in your head without any tangible existence.

Home is in the calmness of mind.

Home is where reside the deepest of sleep

Home lies in the confidence of running blind

Home is where dreams sway high and deep

Home happens where no shackles bind

Home brings the security of making the leap

I have been running away from the establishment of this home thinking that it is only going to limit my journey. I fear of being a river that simply lies put in a dam only to burst in sprints; I want to keep flowing – straight or curving, fast or slow – and make the slow yet mesmerizing progress in search of the vast ocean. This fear almost becomes a box with no windows or doors which keeps evaporating every ounce of energy.

Now home is where I am. And where I choose to just be.

Inspired by Linda’s prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday where the prompt is “Ho” – Find a word with the two letters–“ho”–in that order.


Imperfect Jigsaw

Like a kaleidoscope, the images flashed through my eyes.

Where memory plucked a piece of time to cherish,

From past travels and adventures and journeys.

An autumn leaf, a blooming cherry blossom and a fresh snowflake,

Shaded with hues left behind by a piece of myself.


Slowly chipped away to nothing as I meandered far and wide,

But shaped back whole by the memory capsules I carried back home.

Fixed with mementos, an imperfect solved jigsaw was I.

Ever resolving. Ever evolving.

Ever travelling.

I stumbled upon this cool challenge “Writespiration” hosted by Sacha Black where the prompt was Kaleidoscope which made me ponder over the numerous trips and journeys and how they change us – and often, shape us.

Lucky, Luckier & Luckiest


How many times have you failed in life?

If you can answer, is it because you keep count or that you have hardly ever failed?

Are you lucky that you have not had many failures? Are you luckier that you have had just enough failures to shape up? Are you the luckiest that you don’t see them as failures?

I don’t have a clear answer.

I would not go to the extent to call myself “Destiny’s Child” (damn! I really used this term, didn’t I?). But I can safely say that I have always been in the good books of fate or lady luck. Maybe I am her favourite pawn to test out theories that revolve around sheer good luck? Things have mostly fallen into place pretty easily – I haven’t really had to toil and shed blood and pant my way to the finish line.

That said, I have had some ‘failures’ in my life. Why the quotes? Because wise people would have called them stepping stones or life lessons.

One major one was on stage few years back that I have written about fairly recently. That taught me humility and the importance of keeping faith in myself. At least, that is what I feel now! Another one rocked my confidence at a critical junction. I couldn’t crack the interview at my ‘dream’ institute for my MBA. I thought that is when I had used up the Midas touch luck had bestowed on me.

I did get into another one equally good and the rest is history. And I thought I got over the rejection. Except that on my way to work, I pass the institute twice a day. And I torture myself by looking at the sign and feel the years of “experience” and “learning” melt away. I am back to stomping my feet. Bloody hell! I wanted an admit there.

Another cliche “it’s fate” is perfect here! This is where I feel that maybe I belong to the luckiest category. That interview was my first one ever and taught me lessons no other rejection has managed.

It also brought me to Goa and more importantly kept me away from Pune where I stay presently. Destiny was hard at work! She led to me to my present company and made me shift here at the most perfect time. The house I stay. The people I live with. And the people staying around. It made me re-establish contact with the right someone at the right time at the right place – Mr. D. A little earlier or later would have probably meant goodbye to what we have now. And that is not the price I’m willing to pay for that admit letter.

Or anything else for that matter.

Every time I tripped, I learnt to laugh at myself and keep faith; perseverance was secondary. Turns out, it was just one step closer to the greater plan sketching out.

That doesn’t mean I don’t feel those pointy twinges of failures – but I can live with them.

What are your stories with luck and fate? Are you the lucky, or the luckier, or the luckiest? I was propelled by Linda’s SOCS prompt “-est.” Base your post on any word you can add the suffix “est”.


Wings of Light


A blazing sunset left a trail of new hues

Every evening, ever evolving

In the rosy dusk, a lone star caught my eye

The one that dared to intervene the surreal calm.

I reached out to catch the star but instead,

It was me who got entwined in its sparkle.


It was not lonely up there, only surrounded by eternity

Flickering and winking – that light

Enveloping me with its dignified strength.

It found my own light to set my world ablaze

Illuminating a myriad of paths unfolding before me

And for the first time, the choice was truly mine.


In the starlight, I traced footsteps unique and selfishly mine.

Addictive liberation of a kind yet untouched but yearned.

On a whim I gave myself up like a tide to the moon

High and low, trapezing with the flow

Feeling and listening to the undercurrents of my heart

And finally, giving in to its pull with wings on my feet.

After so long, I have heard what I really want. Been spending time which has been all about me. And I am loving it, unabashedly. Below is what has become the theme song of my life presently.

“Julley” – Hello in Spiti!

It is the start of the journey that stays with you the most, probably because you are aware of every ticking second!

I remember the jitters the night before and how D had to calm me down. With a sprained ankle and a strained shoulder, the physical weakness had almost convinced me that I call it off. But then everything that could go wrong already had – so only good was remaining!

So there I was in Manali in the company of these two awesome people I met on the bus. There was also another girl I had met – all of 19, dropped out of college and now dedicated to teach at a school located in a remote village. I met another girl who was just back from Spiti (her second solo trip) with a story similar to mine. The difference was probably how spirited she had become through her experiences over the last few months. I am hoping I have started a similar transformation!

The ride to Spiti was interesting. We were a heterogeneous group with barely any overlaps if we had to plot ourselves into a venn diagram. So a trekking guide, investment banker turned teacher, architects, marketing professionals and a consultant (that’s me, unfortunately) made for crazy discussions. There was also a Croatian travel writer – the coolest, the oldest and the fittest of us all!

Breakdowns and bladder stops. Lunches and languid walks. Chocolates and changing landscapes. Every turn brought new sights. We had a rainbow following us for a while, flowing on the fields or up and down along the mountain ridges.

We made stops at Kunzum Pass (15000 feet), Losar (perhaps the first village in the valley) and then Hansa (a small village but for the welcoming ceremony of the lamas that we were very lucky to catch). We made it to Kaza (administrative HQ of Spiti) in good time to relax and catch the blazing sunset over sumptuous momos!

Kaza Rainbow
Rainbow at Kaza
Kunzum La
Prayer Flags at Kunzum
On the Way
After Rohtang

The first day was acclimatization amid breathtaking views of a landscape that I will never be tired of. I visited Kee Monastery, Kibber and Chicham Gorge. It started the series of so many firsts I was about to have – every time I thought it cannot get better than this, there was magic awaiting round the corner.

The second day, before starting the trek, there was a stop at Langza (famous for its fossils) where I had a session with the local potter. I managed to make a cup with a lot of help and a slightly sore right leg. The trek to Komic spans about 10 kilometers dotted with meadows and fields and the unyielding majestic spread of Spiti. Hikkim falls on the way which is the highest post office in the world where I gleefully posted three cards.

Chicham Gorge
Kee Monastery
At Kee Monastery

Along the route, fresh peas were a constant snack. Every time there was a field, a smiling farmer handed freshly plucked peas – the sweetest I have ever had in my life. Maybe that is why even the locals are so kind and so giving. They spend their whole lives in that unforgiving land, putting long hours just to be able to survive and yet… Not a sour face or a bitter complaint. Always smiling, always sharing! They were happier than most of the people I have met in the city… Content in the simple life and truly immersed in the spirit of community living.

I headed straight to Komic Monastery on reaching. The valley at sunset was breathtaking – golden fingers caressing the green pastures. Rejuvenated with the view, the headache and exhaustion melted away with the sun. I was staying with a local family in Komic. Three noisy children and one mischievous baby did not deter the woman from making me feel at home and fussing over dinner and chai. Oh the chai! I have never had so many cups and varieties of chai as I had in those 10 days – lemon, mint and sea buckthorn were my favorite. That night – spent in the highest motorable village in the world – I slept deeply and peacefully.

It had been a wonderful start! Even better than I had imagined… And my imagination is wild😀

Pottery at Langza