Oh to be alive

Precarious & precious, so is life, always dangling on  a dangerous divide. Dancing shadows in the middle of the night, imbued were her dreams  in red & golden light. Power was an illusion, sometimes difficult to deride. Fantasy was her mainstay, she loved the risky tides. Shattered & broken  wanting to escape & hide, solitude & solemnity  her only respite. But often she ached to break the world's false pride. In the midst of the melee  called life, she managed to elude prevalent & impending strife. Caught between morning and night, silently waits twilight. Trapped in the shadows  of the moon is the sun's flight. Borrowed moments compellingly  repel yet invite. Poised, patient she bides  her time. #SrKmusings #moonrides #tides

If ignorance was rampant and you didn’t notice it, make a trip to Vadodara Gujarat, the erstwhile kingdom of the mighty Gaekwads. A legacy so abused, that it would perhaps go down again in the annals of history, as a land ensnared by land sharks, peopled by callous strange,  superstitious people, especially when it comes to plants. One often wonders how such an ironic paradox coexists, as the other side of the picture has the full of life, vibrant, vivacious, swearing by Navratri , globe-trotting, yet simple souls: happy revelling in dal-bhaat-saag-rotli. Generalised, though it may sound, twenty odd years is a long time to come to a conclusion, that most of them are anti-plants. Their oft heard, knee jerk reaction to a simple question like, “Why did you cut down that tree?’’ is simple and banal, “Well, mosquitoes are created here’’ (sic).  Not to mention their scant regard for cleanliness as a community, anything that is not consumed within the house, must go out. ...