MellowDrama

I have often wondered why I take up the idea of friendship very seriously. A recent pondering over the matter after a status update on the issue on Facebook made me think of all the stories inspired from our rich mythology that might be behind this thought process. I was largely brought up under my grandmother’s supervision. She is a pious lady who has deposited her wealth of faith at the feet of Lord Krishna. When I was in the impressionable age of 3-5 years my grandmother had time, energy and inclination at her side to devote to me by instilling in me all the right kinds of values and morals. I have clear memories of her animated story telling sessions, urging me to go off to sleep in the languid afternoons of hot/ rainy months in Palampur, while I demanded yet another story. Her stories came from the Ramayana and the Mahabharta wheras the ones told to me by my grandfather or even by my mother were sourced from the Panchtantra. Her, my grandmother’s, stories were about the good...

Writing is a lonely thing. And by that I don not mean anything sad or negative. To me it comes in solitude, in being alone, in being by myself. It comes, when I am not thinking of the menu for the next meal having just ingested one. Or how to teach my daughter three-lettered words which she can spell but seems to be unable to read out. Writing comes to me when I am thinking of my days at home as a school going kid. it comes to me in the silence of the house. In the warm, humid afternoons when everything is sluggish or appears to take on a drugged effect. it comes often at nights when my body id not tired enough to be able to sleep as soon as my head touches the pillow. It comes to me in the loo when I am dreaming up situations. At times it comes alongside the memories of school and college days and people from there. Stories. Some very short. Some long journeys. Some come from looking at the shape of clouds, shielding my eyes from the glare of the sun, which like a strict teacher is ta...