Home is where the Heart is!

Trekking. Nature. Can you imagine being so close to these two thing, yet staying away from these very two things for 5 years? That happened to me. And I felt lost all these years. Like I had left a part of me behind.

3rd June, 2017 changed all of that, forever.

I decided to catch a phenomena that is a mystery in itself, yet magical! I revisted my passion for trekking with a Fireflies trek to Prabhalmachi. And while I knew that getting back, especially with a body that has hardly heard the word exercise in a while, was going to be challenging. But it was worth every minute.

I felt every strain in my muscles as my feet drudged on to catch these luminescent beauties, my mind was transfixed on them… and that was the only thing that got me to the peak. That, coupled with my spirit yearning out to my God, thanking Him for every step that I took. The gratitude took me further, and I could see how an arduous journey was just a disguise for the blessings I was about to receive. This was not too different from what I was experiencing in my life too.

There were times when the journey got tough, when I stopped due to sheer exhaustion, stopped to feel the cool wind in my face, stopped to sip on some colddrink, stopped to just rest my aching body on a rock. There were times when I was dripping with sweat all over my face, when my legs cramped, when I nearly missed a step and  stumbled on rocks. There were times when I stopped and witnessed the city lights twinkling as we sought twinkling of another kind amidst bushes. And Nature supported me beautifully. There was always a nook & corner waiting for me. There was always the welcoming arms of Pacha Mama to soothe me.

There were people walking with me. Some strangers, some I befriended. Some, were a constant voice I was following, who I knew would lead me to my destination. They were walking the path with me, but they could not walk it for me. What, then, was getting me by? My only companions were my thoughts, and my undying spirit, and the belief that I was Divinely protected.

Isn’t this exactly how I am supposed to get by each day, doing exactly what I did in those 2 hours?

And when I did reach the top, the camping tents promised me an adventure of a lifetime. The new friends I made gave me familiarity amidst solitude. Some played my favourite songs on their speakers, some played taboo with me, some taught me to catch lightening bugs in my palm, while some just sat besides me while I watched these beauties present a blockbuster in front of me!

The fireflies were breathtaking, with a beautiful synchronized dance that painted a pitch black night with a golden glow. Did you know that lightening bugs radiate to attract the females for mating? And that it (mating) possibly lasts for just a few seconds? And that soon, they will light up again to attract a new lady? Or that they just live for 2-3 weeks in a year? They die when the rains set in? There was so much that Nature was teaching me here. There was so much grace and beauty to be thankful for! And none of this could be captured on cameras – the only camera that was functional, was my memory! :)

And when I was done collecting experiences, I slipped away in a corner, found a rock overlooking the city lights, and chatted away with my Creator! In complete awe of the beauty He has created, and his ways of reaching out to me. In complete gratitude of the way he takes care of me, and the simplest things I need.

I woke up to the sounds of chirping birds outside my tent. A sumptuous breakfast, some nimbu paani by a local aunty and some inspiration for my soul, I came down the mountain with a spring in my feet, recharged to take on anything that life had to offer!

In solitude, in Nature’s loving embrace, in absolute Surrender, I found that missing piece of my soul that was calling out to me. The hues of green and brown seemed so familiar. The blue & white cover above me, the sounds around me – this felt like a homecoming.

I will be home soon, with a new place that will bring me closer to myself.
See you in a wink, PM!




The Lost Voice

I can hear a voice. Calling out to me from a distance. The voice seems familiar. I recognize it. The unbridled passion. The unadulterated happiness. The absolute contentment.

The distance. That is something I cannot judge. It seems easy to reach out to. But nearly impossible to cross that distance. A few years probably. A decade, maybe.

The voice is drawing me closer to it, showing me a world that once used to be. The things I used to do. The hours I spent pouring myself into the things I absolutely loved. The moments that consumed me.

I see flickers of that passion now. But mostly embers of what it used to be. How did it come to be this?
Where did I lose myself? At what point did I leave that side of me behind? What am I now? Do I recognize this version of me? What does my passion stand for now? What would you remember me for if you knew me today?

That voice calls out to me again. Shakes me out of my contemplation. I must take action. I must take the first step towards it. What built me once, will build me again. I must create. It does not matter what. As long as I keep creating. And in this process, I shall find me again.

Blind, No More.

I liked him, he liked her.
He knew I liked him. He asked her to ask me, why I liked him.

I didn’t know they liked each other. I poured my heart out to her.
I’d never felt this exposed even when I was absolutely naked.  

Why did they do this? What did it do for them? 

The sound of my heart breaking crushed me.
I still hear it, sometimes.

Earth, calling Lucille!

There have been a million times I have felt guilty for letting this blog stay dormant, for the pages to stay barren, for my thoughts – yearning for a chance to be penned down- die a slow, painful, silent death.

What’s my excuse to be away from the one thing that truly drives me?

Busyness. (eeks!)

Maybe the intensity of my desire to write wasn’t strong enough to draw me here.
But today, something, or rather – someone did.

I’m back, and I’m here to stay.

Hello, Lucille!
Welcome back :)
You have been missed, terribly.

The Window to his Soul!

I keep trying so hard to forget him, to get him out of my conscious thoughts. And it makes me think, if it is such a struggle, maybe forgetting him isn’t the thing to do.

If he keeps popping into my head whenever I am trying to find myself, in a space that is meant just for me – then, I shouldn’t deny him the entry. I’m going to let him visit, let his soul speak to me what his mind otherwise holds back.

I am going to treasure those moments, cos in that space, I know I will truly hear his heart speak. He wants to tell me a million things, but he is afraid. I know he is. Afraid of losing his heart again and never getting it back. I know I am too.

Somehow, I see our souls connected by an invisible thread, that draws us closer just as we try to go your separate ways. And we have been on different paths, for a long time now. Then why do we keep coming back to that crossroad? Why do we keep questioning what we have between us? What do we have between us? Cos honestly, if we weren’t meant  to be, we would’ve just fallen out of each others’ lives easily.

There’s a million things left unsaid. Maybe they will stay like that forever. Maybe we will finally say it through secret conversations with each others’ souls. Maybe this is all a big, fat dream ~and I will have no memory of it tomorrow. Maybe I will. Maybe I’d find that questioning look, those unspoken words, those unexpressed emotions that we both know we are feeling when I look into those eyes – the window to his soul, years after we’ve claimed we have moved on. And maybe, blinking it away is the best thing I could do for both of us. Maybe.




The Heart

Follow your gut. Go after what you believe in. What you truly want.

Don’t stand at the end of the pool, don’t hesitate. Deep dive. What kind of living is it, if you don’t involve your entire being in it?

Soak up every moment. Grab every chance you get to be with him.

How can you stay away from him, when all you want to do is grab him and exhibit every ounce of the love you feel for him?

You love the warmth of those arms.The scent of his being. The way he whispers your name in your ears, creating sensations you never imagined you’d experience.

You want him. You’ve dreamed of those kisses, and blushed at the very thought of it.
Damn, why isn’t he pinging? You should call him and ask him if everything’s ok.

He must be thinking about you too.

Did you see the way he looked at you today? *melt*

It’s in the way he apologised. It seems like he really means it. Or like he is making a genuine effort.
If you really love him, don’t let egos come in the way. Pick up the phone. Talk to him. His voice will soothe you. And then maybe, your resolve won’t be so strong. But you will feel the love you’re craving for.

The Mind.

Your choices haven’t always been the best. They cost you dearly.

Is this what you really want? Do you even know what you want?

Tread carefully. You give away your heart too easily.

Wait it out. Let him call you.

Don’t meet him. You won’t be able to resist his charm.

Is it enough that only you love him this passionately? Where is his ‘crazy’?

Give him the space and time to yearn for you, to realize that his being is incomplete without you. That his existence is just as meaningless as yours, when you’ll lead separate lives.

Calling him is a sign of weakness.

What if you call and find someone else on the other end?

What if I call and he disconnects? That will make me think a lot more. And it will drive you insane.

Is he really worth this?

What if he never really loved you? Would you be able to handle it?

What if he is using every fibre of his being in trying to get you off his mind?

Did you see the way he looked at you today? Maybe that was just a moment. Don’t dwell on it.

Sorry. How does one word take away all the pain you felt?

Don’t let him in again. You’ve built an amazing wall around your heart. And I am here to ensure that it never breaks again. Trust me.

The Heart v/s The Mind.
Who wins this battle?

Adding colour to life!

It was just another train ride back home. A little earlier than usual, though. I found a quiet corner at the end of the ladies coach and settled down. Bags aside, shoes taken off, feet on the empty seat across me, earphones plugged in. And soon enough, I started drifting off into my own world, soaking in the 45 minutes of ‘me’ time I get every day, from Dadar to Malad. The deafening horn of a passing train tried its best to drown out my thoughts; but the replay had already begun.

The endless stream of meetings, where discussions lead to more discussions, and less outcome. Sigh. Another brainstorming session that seemed to confuse me more than it should have sorted me.

That Whatsapp chat with him that I couldn’t seem to get out of my head. Gosh, why did he always have to do that? Say something that puts me on a guilt trip and then stay unavailable. A few words were playing on loop in my head. I brushed them aside, turned up the volume on Nate Ruess crooning a love ballad that spoke about him needing just a moment to cry before he moves on. Sigh. Was it a coincidence that I was tossing those same thoughts in my head at that very moment?

I was distracted by one of my favourite past times in the train – shopping. A lady was peddling her wares – accessories, hair clips, and bindis. The glitter of the earrings caught my eye and soon, my hands and my head were consumed in selecting a pair of pearl studs. At Andheri, I saw two young boys entering our compartment, to sell plastic toys & colouring books. The irony of the situation nearly choked me. That innocent little soul, who should be pestering his mom to buy him these books. Here he was, convincing moms to pick a Superman, Doraemon, or a Tom & Jerry book from the pile his little hands could hold. The social activist in me starting thinking about how I could help him. Why isn’t he studying? Should I ask him his name? What did his parents do? Should I be calling Childline?

I stopped myself before this thought bubble got any bigger. What if this is what he had to do? What did I really know about his situation? What if his parents did not want him to work, but he decided to do this for them anyway, to ease their burden? What if he did go to school, and this was something he did in the evenings only? Who am I to decide whether a mother should have to lose her son?

But then again, his impish smile was tugging at my heart strings… as he helped aunties select what their kids may like best. How could you not do something about it? I saw him trying to round up his goods. I had very little time to say or do anything; soon he would jump out of the train and disappear into the mass of people forever. I called him over, and he handed me the pile. I wanted to pick my all-time favourite cartoon characters Tom & Jerry, but decided against it. I asked him what his favourite colouring book was. He looked at me as if I’d lost my marbles. Why was a 30 year old woman, who was entirely capable of taking life’s biggest decisions on her own, asking him which colouring book she should pick? When I told him that I wanted to pick one out for him, his face transformed instantly. He was grinning from cheek to cheek, and he wasted no time in rummaging through the pile to get to his favourite – Spiderman! I told him that this was for him, and not to be resold again. He still had that silly grin on his face, as he shook his head vigorously, in agreement.

I wanted to make sure that this happiness stays intact, at least till he finishes colouring every page in this book with the brightest hues. So, I took out my fountain pen, asked him his name, and began etching this moment in ink. As I saw the ink blot the first page with the words ‘Rahul Mishra. All the best :)’, I knew no one could take this away from him. Even if he managed to escape his reality and slip into this colourful world of fantasy for half an hour every day, it would comfort me knowing that he experienced pure joy for a few moments in the day. I couldn’t do much to change his reality, but at least, I could help him dream. With a colour pencil in his hand, he could do anything.

I watched him tuck away the gift in his bag, and with a spring in his feet, he moved on to the other end of the ladies coach, smiling more than ever now… urging more aunties to pick up colouring books. I wondered what he was thinking of now. Was he eager to get home and get out his crayons? Was this the happiest part of his day? Did he want to go & show it off to his friends? Did he still have a target to achieve – was he worried about selling enough books for the day? Well, if there was any worry, I couldn’t tell, cos that smile was still plastered on his face.

It made me think about the non-issues that I was fretting about earlier. Perspective had been dealt out to me without any warning. That little boy had so little, yet he had everything. I have so much, and all I focus on is what I don’t have. Oh, universe. You crafty little thing.

I fished out my phone, switched the song to Lenka’s ‘The show’, shook myself out of my thoughts, smiled to myself, and walked towards the door. I loved standing by the door; and as Malad station approached, I indulged in something that made me truly happy – the wind in my hair as I sang out the best part of the song as loud as I wanted to ~ just enjoy the show ~

*Even though I didn’t take a picture with him, the mental image of his smiling face will never be wiped out from my memory :)