As the events of last night sink in, one realises what a great honour
and moment in our lives the magnitude of it all exhibits. We are not
deserving of it, but some feel we are. Greatness does not lie in us, it
lies in the belief of others, that they think so. And so we submit to
them in all humility. And we persevere as always in the days to come, to
continue to propel our minds in a direction that shall keep us wishing
and wanting to to perhaps reach that stage where we feel further
challenged. To accomplish that which we may have not been able to
overcome. To attempt, to struggle, to make effort, to move that
centimetre perhaps in the right direction. To not be dissuaded by
adverse comment. To be in welcoming all that which is negative and to be
inspired enough to disprove it. Not in revenge, but in reinvention. Of
oneself, of our being and of our own manifestations …
As I laze about in my environs at home in Delhi, I feel the need of a
reduction in pressures of work. And I wonder what may I do if I were to
do that. Life has been most generous and kind to me, that I often feel
if I merely stopped it would be an injustice to all that life by the
grace of the Almighty gave me. And so I work .. and hope .. and
endeavour, to continue doing what I feel I must .. for, none else shall
decipher what each of us know of ourselves, but us ..
Winters in Delhi are magnificent ! Comparisons with other winters all
over the world may not be a fare judge of what this means - each
destination has its own interpretations of it. But for one that has
spent some of the most formative days here it has its own special
meaning.
I drove by my old home at 13, Willingdon Crescent, now named
differently, and the first thought that came was the very early morning
misty and fogged environment and getting out from my gate for a run down
to the first crossing a mile away and back, the cold and freezing
breeze numbing the nostrils and the finger tips. The ease of run in the
beginning, ending up in the last 100 meters into a sprint much like the
last lap of a competition in the athletic track events one sees at the
Olympics or any International meet … gasping for breath, easing out with
a walk in the lawn of the house, and then those favoured glasses of
milk and egg flip .. horrid in taste, but as my Father would urge me on
in drinking it with those encouraging words - ” how delicious !”, the
same he would say when we were younger and had to face the ordeal of
that morning spoon of cod liver oil !! Remember ?? Or perhaps many of
you were too young for those times, or too accustomed to more refined
and tastier supplements …. !!!
But winters in Delhi … always attractive and pleasant .. the mild sun
throughout the day, the fire in the drawing room, the pista, badaam,
kishmish, and the chilgoza …
…. and just as winter onsets, the warm clothes being brought out from
well stored boxes by Mother to be aired in the sun and the smell of
wool all around … the many evenings with Ma at coffee stops, the smell
of freshly ground coffee, as you snuggled in your shawls and pullovers …
the gagak, and the rewari in abundance … and the pink blossoms and the
nargis flowers, the dehliyas and roses and all kinds of variety colors
in them …
…the sprint in the morning from 13, to the University DTU bus that
stopped on South Avenue, those permanent familiar faces, the banter, the
laughter and fun… bunking classes to go to the street behind our
respective College to listen to the cricket commentary on radio of the
Test Match being played … crunching and munching the mooli and kakdi
with salt and pepper ..
so much to talk of and so much to embellish our thoughts with …
So wonder what am i doing now
Reading Anna Karenina in a coffee shop. Its a classic... Loving it.
“All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life is made up of light and shadow.”
― from "Anna Karenina" by Leo Tolstoy
Love and more
Harish Nayak
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