ChirpyQuill

  That feeling…. That feeling that had notes of our hearts met, What a melody it would’ve been, That feeling that had we’ve been on this path together, What a journey it would’ve been, That feeling that had our emptiness found each other, What a completeness it would’ve been , A glasshouse exists in a corner of my heart, There lives an eternal love and we never grow apart, In the glasshouse, we dance forever free from fate’s clutches , In the glasshouse, the soft edges of soul come alive with our gentle touches, In the glasshouse , wrapped in the wings of love , our hearts find a home, On the lighted pathways of magic gardens, we freely roam, That feeling that had the walls of this glasshouses been shattered, What a reality it would’ve been           That feeling....  

An Ironman, by any other name… would screw your happiness just as much!  Especially on Race Day.  Which normal human being chooses to wake up 3 am, drink a protein shake that he made ready last night, use bathroom, get dressed, put a timing chip on, make another beetroot shake, use bathroom again and head out by 4 am to secure his place in the closest parking lot by a cold and vast lake, where he plans to jump in, and swim non-stop for 2.4 miles shortly thereafter. Hahn?  If this is not madness, try jumping on the bike as soon you come out of the water, wet and all, and keep biking away for 112 miles straight and over 5000 ft of elevation gain, from nowhere to nowhere in a hurry, eating and drinking on the bike itself, so as not to lose time in the rush to reach exactly where you started from.  If that was the end of the story, a confinement to save others from you would make sense. But the reason I recommend a padded cell is that as soon as you got off the bike belching and nauseated

Much is made about friendships. That they are important, that they are so fun, that they matter and outlast every other bond one might have such as marriage or even with siblings and cousins. We make movies about friendships, have songs dedicated to them. We even have a day dedicated to friends called “Friendship Day”, I understand. I wasn’t aware of it, until today, when I got some social media messages to the same effect.  “Happy Friendship Day” it said.  While many of us are clearly blessed in this arena, and I count my blessings for the same, what about those that don’t have friends. It is such a stark statement that my hand even paused a bit before punching in the letters. No friends? How is it possible? What’s wrong with you that you have no friends is an instinctive response. Yet, it is true. A large swath of people young and old live with absolutely limited    or no friends. It may be their age and age related confinement, it may be some unique circumstances like moving a lot w

 I am the great seer, I am Om, I am the silent prayer, I am immovable, I am the Himalayas - Bhagavad Gita verse interpretation. You see, the Himalayas, are not a mountain range. The Himalayas are an emotion. They are a vibe. They echo the very sound of the universe. And how do I know this, you ask? I had the good fortune of spending ten blissful days wandering and seeking those magnificent mountains, resplendent in their full monsoon glory.  When I started penning my thoughts about my time in the place closest to the heavens, I wondered if I should write a day-by-day account. I decided against it. Because up there, close to "Shangri La" time isn't neatly broken down into twenty-four-hour segments. It's delineated by each mountain you climb, each valley you traverse, every dew-glistened flower you see, and ever so significantly, who you experience it with.  The Annapurna Circuit Trek was the hardest thing I have ever done. Nothing has come close to the level of physica

Birds do it. Bees do it. Even educated Flees do it. They are all sad sometime. Humans too for that matter. If you never got sad, you perhaps aren’t human. So you can stop reading and continue your joy-ride. I speak for rest of us folks.  There are just as many colors of sadness, as there are of happiness. But who wants to talk about happiness. It will only irritate some of you. You just got off seeing your friend’s Instagrams posts and you are already a bit triggered, I know. So many effing happy people. Let’s talk about someplace less discussed and equally visited. Let’s talk about colors of sadness and the romance of marinating in your own juice. That too. So a tragedy happening to ourselves or those we know or care for makes us sad. A personal loss, someone putting us down or criticizing us, missing of a cherished goal, by us or a loved one, including a favorite sports team draws us down in some strange way. So many different contours of that special place we visit sometime, aren’t

Dear Society! Scene 1:  A couple of dozen 13 year old girls, my daughter included, are playing Lacrosse in the school grounds. It’s late May and sports season is in full throttle. So is the 80 degree heat. These girls are sprinting from one end of the large field to another, making their plays, taking and giving passes and scoring. They could out-run most boys in their class and have strong athletic teenage bodies. Some may pursue athletics in college, other will go into medicine, law, engineering, politics, social sciences.. what have you. They will also run households, bear and raise children and be the economic and social engines of the society, right alongside men.  Scene 2  A few dozen women are celebrating a festive time together hosted by one of them. They are all decked up in traditional fineries, loving the warmth of this “all women”, fun get together where they are laughing, eating, touching and appreciating each others fine clothes and jewelry. Generally having a gala time t

  10 days before.... With just an hour left for the deadline, I start pacing the floor up and down awaiting the call. Rewind a few minutes back when a random search on my inbox yields an email with subject line "You have been Selected from the Waiting List for The Jersey City Marathon & Half Marathon Marquee Event at Newport". I have never even remotely won anything when it comes to raffles or lucky draws, so how did I get this lucky...In hindsight I should have just bought a lottery that day!!😊 So, the phone rings and our Sincere Coach S calls. Now Coach S is very technical and data oriented. If your weekday runs don't add up to 1.5 times your weekend run, he's not amused. And here I was going to talk him into guiding me to run a half marathon in 10 days after missing 3 weeks of peak training with my last Long run being 5.5 miles. Coach S:You are already signed up for Brooklyn(still 6 weeks away), why do you want to do this? Me: Because all my friends are going

The weather is finally opening up so I have been (unsuccessfully) trying to get into an outdoor running routine of some sort. On one such recent run, I was unexpectedly helped by the kindness of two strangers - one of them actually unknowingly. More on that later - some background first.   Over the past twenty five years, my relationship with my weight has been rocky at best. The quest to have a flat(ish) tummy has been a never ending struggle and a combination of factors (genetic disposition, laziness, over indulgence in food and drink) has presented seemingly insurmountable hurdles. This love-hate dynamic has naturally been extended to the one form of exercise that seems to do me some good: running.  It all started when I showed up as an overweight kid on admission day at Marine Engineering and Research Institute in Kolkata. Like most of my peers, I had dutifully followed the herd and spent an inordinate amount of time preparing to ace one of the toughest entrance exams in the world

Life is a satire on life itself it laughs and mocks our ignoramus ways gives chock full of rules, then changes the game and belly laughs the whole way away it bookends us, with incontinence meanwhile lets our arrogance have it’s day leads us by nose to want everything in sight then quietly tucks it all away gives us health and youth and a swagger to boot and just when we feel, we hold sway slips in old age, disease and death hysterically laughing all the way away Oh I got you bitch, says the man who is rich until fortunes turn and he lies in a ditch at his curious expression, life gives a nice aww! and belly laughs the whole way away when we are done teaching our parents to do it right life gives us children to enjoy our plight it gets us to make plans for years on out in very next hour tackles us to the ground it makes us seek love for years on end then burns us with heartaches that will not mend gives us fists to hold everything tight but the tighter we hold the less there is to find

For the longest time I have held this notion that life visits us in moments, in tiny specks of time, laid out sequentially, as is evident from the passing seconds and minutes on our digital watches, or the tick tick clicking away and moving of the second and minute hands on the wall clock that validate that view. Perhaps it was not our view ever, it was a view trained into us on the sly by these instruments of convenience. It seemed like a fair one to have, up until    this afternoon when sitting in a middle school concert with young musicians playing on the stage a new view emerged. Upon dwelling, this new view seems closer to the truth, and even prettier than the earlier one. But you be the judge.  The alternate view is that life plays itself out in countless notes, all simultaneously playing out, creating the music of life, as we know it. Each note is distinct, some are shrill and others dulcet. Some are loud and others soft. But they are all, millions and millions of them, simultan