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Life is a long, wondrous and continuous introduction to yourself.

The act of creation — it leads me to unknown places. Only to make me realize that all was known, always. And yet, I live every day with the hope that I’ll explore, create and grow into someone new. Because what’s life if not a long, wondrous and continuous introduction to yourself.

In this journey, music lives by my side. I find melody in my writing, and a lot of writing in my melodies. Sometimes, I hear songs in the bubbles of boiling tamarind water. Or in the stroke of red paint over the canvas. Or in the giggles of a child after a good joke. Tunes find their way even into my boredom, curiosity and the thoughts in between. And a rhythm taps into my sorrow, so it can take the leap to laughter.

Such is music. Such is life — yours and mine.

Hello!

GRANPA WAS HERE!

was watching shawshank redemption last night.. d movie.. yeah..awsome... but admidst.. i have no clue..how .. why... the character 'brooks' reminded me of my grandpa...d lines , d walk..d face..d hope ...d grief..everything!!!

i met my grandpa d first time when he was 76... i had been with him for 10 years since den....

He was too old by d time i met him , couldnt find him in between his lines of age..and his kids shielded my way of getting to know him or may be i was simply too young and too busy to bother about it..

Bearing too many kids(6 of them) and too scattered...human relations never seemed to be his cup of tea... he earned,travelled..lived life on his own terms...

His kids may have made him proud or disappointed him.. it was never known...

@ 80 , @ our place

he would sew Cushion Covers he would sew Sofa Covers He would make the wooden mould for our water cooler..

nd all this @ his own will , time and despense...never required...but admiration wouldnt justify his act!

as all kids have...his children viewed him a certain way which stopped us from getting closer to him ever... but i somehow regret not having taken that extra step!!

He stayed alone since my granny and till he was 76 when he broke his arm...tripping down d stairs...he was staying in a big house in varanasi till den..singing hyms in temples...preaching at other times!

That was d day my dad dcided to get him home.... grandpa never wanted to... had it not been for dad..he would have even then survived gracefully i think!!

I had my own disappoinments too as a grandkid..

i would happily go and sing some songs for him and all he would come out with would be some rectification... i never felt he heard it with the idea of enjoying ... felt he would dig too much and my excitement would get burried...

but his criticisms helped...

donno why am i writing all this but the strange sense of missing to know him struck me too hard yesterday!

I remember touching him lovingly just once..when he was lying numb on the life supporting system...all he could move were his eyes... i didnt know how to react... he was cold..nd i was too cold ... he left us the next day!

JUST WISH HE KNEW I WAS DERE HOLDING HIM THAT ONE LAST TIME!

UncategorizedKavita