Road Trip #AtoZChallenge 2021

Dear Readers,

More than half of May has flown by. I have been cobbling together my first eBook! Yay! It's been a sharp learning curve but I've enjoyed every minute of it. More about the book will be shared in future posts.

For now, it's time to kick start this road trip. I promised myself that I'll be a more regular blogger this year and I think this road trip will help me to stay focused.

This was my fifth A to Z Challenge.

I chose to write on a theme this year. It was based on the Japanese concept of Ichigo Ichie which means--"What we are experiencing right now will never happen again. And therefore, we must value each moment like a beautiful treasure."

Road trips are fun when one enjoys the views. Right? Otherwise, it's just a zoom from A to Z. I hope you'll stop by and refresh yourselves at the post-links listed below:

*A is for Alex and the Bees

*B is for a Bride in the land of Gods

*C is for a Cypriot Honeymoon

*D is for Delight in Impermanence

*E is for Escape like an Earthworm

*F is for Free Cola and Friends

*G is for Gardens and the Gates of Shambhala

*H is for Hurting on High Line

*I is for Idiom Book Sellers

*J is for Julie of Maunda

*K is for Kumarakom in Kerala

*L is for Lessons learnt in Brihadiswara

*M is for Mudras in Modhera

*N is for New Beginnings

*O is for O! Cloudsmen

*P is for Pudding in Planters' Club

*Q is for Quaffing beer at a Quaint bar

*R is for Rainbows on Table Mountain

*S is for Salt and Chillies

*T is for Trees Hussain draws

*U is for Unequal, Unique You

*V is for Vittels of morels, ferns and rose stems

*W is for The Wedding Album

*X is for X

*Y is for You and I and Yesterday

*Z is for Zikr

and *The Reflection Post (lists the blogs I connected with in April)

I hope to visit some more blogs in May.

Wishing you all good health and happiness.

Till we meet again.

Arti.

Reflection Post for #AtoZChallenge 2021

 

Photo made in May 2019 at Sunder Nursery Heritage Park, New Delhi

One day, in the first week of March this year, I was browsing through the aisles of our local book shop when a hint of turquoise caught my eye.

A small, squarish book wearing a pale blue jacket was perched on a shelf in the poetry section. I left my aisle in the Children's section and picked the book. Felt the grainy cover. Read the blurb. Admired the artwork on the cover and went straight to the till to pay for it.

It was The Book of Ichigo Ichie. 

I'd have to come back to the store the next day to buy books for my friend's four year old daughter. 

By the middle of March, I had decided to participate in the A to Z Challenge, but had no clue what I'd be writing about. I even put a post out on fb to ask for suggestions. But nothing stuck.

On the 22nd of March, while sipping tea under the neem tree, an idea flashed. I wrote to Hector Garcia, co-author of the book, and asked for his permission to use quotes from the book in my posts.  I thought if I get a reply, I'll use the book as my theme and if I don't, I'll wing it somehow.

He wrote back saying, "I love that you write a blog. Feel free to add quotes from our book." within a day. 

And that's how the A to Z series based on the concept of Ichigo Ichie came to be. My theme this year was based on the Japanese concept of Ichigo Ichie which means--"What we are experiencing right now will never happen again. And therefore, we must value each moment like a beautiful treasure."

I had 7 posts prepared before I started. I wrote 2 drafts every day after posting and visiting other bloggers.

This year, I was very comfortable with my visits. I visited all my old blogging friends first, I'm loyal like that:) and then picked 2 or 3 new blogs every day. 

I'm happy to say that this year the quality of comments received were exceptionally good. 

I believe in quality over quantity in every thing I do. Blogging is no exception. Whichever blog I visited, I tried to spend enough time to read the posts and leave a comment but if no comment came, I didn't leave a one-liner to mark my presence.  

As always, I wish I could've visited more blogs. 

I found quite a few new gems this year. I've added all the blogs I liked to my blogroll. 

Here's my THANK YOU 
to all the bloggers who made 

my April truly spring-like: new blossoms and ideas sprouted

on sturdy, old branches and nodded 

to the new growth that May may bring

and perhaps this year of one more than twenty-twenty

will bear sweet fruit borne of curiosity and camaraderie,

despite a virus infinitesimal that's causing such exponential misery!

 A is for Arti, my namesake who writes short fiction on my space

Best mention Vidya and Ruchita who didn't blog but visited regularly and B is free:)

C is for Barbie's letters to herself. You can read them on Crackerberries.

D is for Deborah.

She loves the fact that her name means a bee.

Her topic of Ludic lexicon added new 'old' worlds to my vocabulary.

And like always, every single post of hers is magic perfumed with floral, dreamy imagery.

E is for Ellora Mohanty. After you read her poetry,

you'll thank me (for mentioning her here). You'll see.

F is for Farida. I found her by chance on

the chapters of her life which are full of inspiration, grit and wit.

G is for getting hooked on to a new discovery this year. 

He's called Tomichan Matheikal. He writes about politics and philosophy.

 Gail who is also a new find for me blogs about her writing process from 

H for Hawaii.

I is for Iain, a writer and Scotsman who visited me often. 

He writes fabulous fiction.

More about his trilogy of books is on: Iain Kelly.com

J is for Jayashree Writes.

She wrote about Harry Potter vis-à-vis life's light and not so light sides.

K has to be for Keith's Ramblings.

His humorous tales carried musical notes this time.

His short pieces always bring me a smile.

L is for another new find. It is Love, Laugh and Reflect.

A blog by Purba who's poetry is sublime.

 

M is for the missed opportunity of bloggers who visited me but I couldn't return the favour.

 N is for all the names I cannot list here,

  on account of only a couple of visits this year.

P belongs to four: Pooja, Pinkz, Pradeep 

and the funny Part-time working hockey mom.

 Old blogging friend Pradeep told us about Bangalore's history, 

while Pinkz supported me with her commentary.

Newly found Pooja used words from different languages to write Covid-poetry

and part-time working mom wrote witty pieces based on proverbs, verily.

Thank heavens for Quilting by Frederique.

I got my Q for this list and her posts were fantastic:

check them out for recycling and repurposing stuff into many things stylish.

R is for Rajeev, who I met this year on Spontaneous Overflow.

S, too, belongs to three: Srivalli, Sanskrit and Satabdi

While old friend and now little sister Srivalli 

took us on amazing temple tours in India on Amore Natura,

Durga Dash's Pebbles and Waves shone like a beacon on Sanskrit's 

language and literature.

I'll be going back for more for sure.

Satabdi's posts were all about words to do with the business of creating books.

T is for Trudy who I met very recently.

In fact, in the last week of the A to Z.

She writes about Films beautifully.

Unable to find a suitable U, I'll move on to V.

V is for a Visitor who visited sporadically but I loved the wisdom I found on her/his posts.

I don't know their name. 

The blog is called: Diary of a Sunday Visitor

W belongs to an old blogger friend whose immaculate posts always make me be more like her:

organised, skilful and sorted.

She's Karen from Weekends in Maine

Trust me, you want to visit her to see how she creates WOW! from something plain.

X is for kisses to all the readers who read the posts on Facebook and commented too.

I love you.

Y for me is always, always Yamini. 

I write down her comments in a notebook you see.

Because they're so precious. 

She writes about things that my soul seeks. 

Find her on:

Doses of Wild Yam

And she's even a cool cat of photography!

Z is for Zalka Csenge Virag,

an amazingly resourceful  storyteller from Hungary.

She brings you tales from all over the world in The Multicolored Diary

And with that my dear readers, I end this year's A to Z.

Of course, none of this would be possible without the team at Blogging from A to Z whose hard work and vision has helped me to write so regularly.

Thank you Arlee Bird and J Lenni Dorner and team.

If I've missed out your name, I apologise. I think I've included all those who I continued to interact with right till the end.

Leaving you with this delightful cartoon that my dear friend Sharon shared with me. I knew I'd like to share it here on Reflection day.

Till we meet again amigos.

Stay safe and healthy.

And happy:)

I'll put all of my A to Z s in a  single post soon for convenience.

For now, I'm going back to my bowl of freshly harvested mulberries:)

This year, I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z  powered by theblogchatter.com 

Z is for Zikr #AtoZChallenge

Dear Readers,

Welcome to the last post of the #Blogging from A to Z  April Challenge 2021. My theme this year is based on the Japanese concept of Ichigo Ichie which means--"What we are experiencing right now will never happen again. And therefore, we must value each moment like a beautiful treasure."

Today, we wrap up with a reminder.

I hope you'll enjoy being here.

Thank you.

Arti

There's a Peanuts cartoon that shows Snoopy and Charlie Brown from behind, sitting on a jetty beside a lake, having the following conversation:

"Someday, we will all die Snoopy!"

"True, but on all the other days, we will not."

The above extract is from  The Book of Ichigo Ichie.

The authors go on to say:

And "all the other days" are made up of encounters and moments that we either allow to slip away or make unforgettable.

According to Wikipedia, Zikr (Urdu) is the same as Arabic Dhikr. Zikr literally means "remembrance, reminder" or "mention, utterance". They are Islamic devotional acts, in which phrases or prayers are repeated.

What better way to complete a series inspired by Ichiego Ichie than to remember this April of bonhomie we managed to nurture despite the world crises; to mention all those whose paths crossed with mine, to utter words of encouragement and gratitude to those who visited and commented, and above all to remind ourselves that we are all one.*

I once heard a wise person say: the air that you think divides us actually holds us all together as one big family. In a dark and twisted way, Covid-19 has proven without a doubt that we are all one race--the human race. We are all in it together. We all suffer the same. And yet, we refuse to accept this simple truth.

That which binds us also divides us. It has many names, many theories. Some doubt its existence and some are ready to die to prove their interpretation is better than the rest. Some call him God while others see her as the vast Universe. 

Whenever I lean into my kind of belief system: poetry, nature, music and books, I find that all of us are, after all, seeking the same. 

We are all sitting with Snoopy and Charlie Brown on that pier. 

So, let us live and let live. Let us indulge in Zikr and recite any name, sing any song, dance any which way because in the end we are pigments of carbon housing a light that can light us up as brightly as the sun, if we have eyes that see and hearts that are willing to be open and welcoming.

"Sufis believe you must empty yourself of all egocentric tendencies before you can experience the divine. Only once the flute is hollow, can it produce music. The story Rumi tells is of a reed separated from the reed-bed so that it can be formed into a flute. The reed flute bemoans his separation, and cries out."  

says the author of this post: Drunk in Zikr (worshipping through the arts)

I urge you to stop and listen to Rumi's Ney Name before you read on.

How do you feel? Hollow? Full? At peace? Not quite?

No worries, let the hills of Khasi in Eastern India bathe you with their story water for a few moments. You will see that despite different centuries and different continents, the flute and the duitara sing the same song. 

If you want to stay on for a bit, you can click on: Mawphlang: of sacred groves

I'll repeat and repeat and like the Sufis get drunk on this zikr--we are one. We are one. We are one.

But, we have to pay attention. We have to pay attention to each other. 

It's not my intention to preach. Please forgive me if in my excitement I become entangled in the yarn of repetition. 

Those of you who heard the poem, Yesterday is not alive I posted yesterday, know how I feel about phone screens. The Hindi word I used in the poem is called virah which means a longing. My longing for my husband's attention may sound petty and needy but if we are all carrying the Divine light in us, then doesn't paying attention to each other amount to paying attention to the Divine? 

This short film is called Virah. The producer of the film is Raman Iyer, an amazing story teller and mandolin player who has been telling a story every night for the past 387 days on Instagram under 'Midnight Musings with the Mandolin'. 

Zikr can be done in any form. 

I choose to remember the kindness, generosity, knowledge, beauty and love I have felt in this place, in this space with you all this month. I choose to be in Snoopy's camp and live, live, live my moments of breath so fully and fabulously that when the time comes to draw my last, I can say--I lived.

I hope to see you all soon. We shall reflect more fully in May.

Till then, take good care of yourselves and each other. Wishing you all a wonderful, peaceful, restful weekend with my favourite Ramdas's words, "We are all walking each other home." 

*I hope to thank everyone properly in my reflection post in May.

***** 

Last year, I wrote about the Light in Zarraa, Zarraa

This year, I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z  powered by theblogchatter.com 

X is for X #AtoZChallenge

Dear Readers,

Welcome to the last week of the #Blogging from A to Z  April Challenge 2021. My theme this year is based on the Japanese concept of Ichigo Ichie which means--"What we are experiencing right now will never happen again. And therefore, we must value each moment like a beautiful treasure."

Today, we look at a section of the book titled: 'The Cracked Pots."

I hope you'll enjoy being here.

Thank you.

Arti

In The Book of Ichigo Ichie, I came across an old Indian parable that I've heard before.

This illustration of 'A Water Carrier or Bhestie', however, 

is borrowed from www.oldindianarts.in

to help me with the retelling.

According to the parable, a water bearer carried two large pots of water to his master's house every day. One pot was perfect while the other had several cracks. As a result, the amount of water delivered by each pot was unequal. 

The cracked pot was ashamed of its inadequacy and one day decided to speak to the water bearer: 'I'm ashamed of myself. I want to apologise to you. Because of my cracks you can deliver only half my load and get paid only half the money.'

The water bearer smiled and told the pot to notice the path carefully on their way back. The pot noticed many beautiful flowers all along the path. 

"Have you noticed the flowers grow only on your side of the road?" the water bearer pointed out. "I've always known you are cracked...I planted seeds along the route we take, and you have watered them each day without noticing...If you weren't the way you are, with all your cracks, I would still be walking through a desert."

*****

As usual, I picked up the hefty Concise Oxford English dictionary today to look for  a word I'd be able to use in the title. I wanted something that would fit with the thought I had for today's post. 

I find rifling through pages of a dictionary yields more than searching online. A flick of a page and you're burrowing in different galaxies with all the back information on how that word came to be. Nothing can replicate the lost and found feeling of holding and reading a physical dictionary.

Occupying mere two pages of this heavy edition, X looked sparse. Then it didn't.

I had hoped to find something that would fit the idea of exclusion; a word that describes something being discarded because it's not perfect. I didn't find anything.

I was about to turn to E (for ex instead of  x) when this caught my eye and I smiled. I 'd found my X. 

Lying next to each other were these two (among other) uses of a cross-shaped written symbol

¬ to indicate an incorrect answer. ¬to symbolize a kiss 

Entries starting with the 24th letter of the alphabet occupy the least amount of space in the dictionary, but X turned out to be quite extraordinary on its own. Don't you agree? 

As a photography enthusiast, I often find that the pictures I make don't match the image in my head. Nine out of ten times, it's due to my limited technical knowhow. I don't like to read manuals. Doing is the way I learn. It's not the most efficient method but it suits me. Trial and error, they call it.

A lot of the times, a lot of my clicks have to be discarded. But, sometimes, the out of focus, blurry images like the cracked pot, turn out to be more beautiful than the perfect ones.

What do you think? 

So, next time, before you mark a mistake with an X, think about the water bearer's seeds and the kiss that lies right next to it on a page in an old, loved dictionary.

Trust your creative process. Be kind. The electric bulb lit up after many wrong turns. Turn your deserts into gardens with love, grace and forgiveness.

Is there an X you'd like to share?

Has an out of focus picture, a discarded project, an unloved piece of art made you jump with joy because in its incomplete, imperfect state it illuminated your stories and myriad mysteries more perfectly?

You know I'd love to hear, if you'd like to share.

This year, I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z  powered by theblogchatter.com 

Q is for Quaffing beer at a Quaint bar #AtoZChallenge

Dear Readers,

Welcome to the fourth week of the #Blogging from A to Z  April Challenge 2021. My theme this year is based on the Japanese concept of Ichigo Ichie which means--"What we are experiencing right now will never happen again. And therefore, we must value each moment like a beautiful treasure."

I've put together a collage of such moments which can be seen as chance occurrences, coincidences, pre-destined or random (depending on who you ask) for this month's challenge. 

I hope you'll enjoy being here.

Thank you.

Arti

Under the subheading , 'A tool for Conscious Magic', 

the authors of The book of Ichigo Ichie write:

 Some people experience many meaningful coincidences while others seem immune to them. Why? This depends essentially on attention.

The subtle messages sent to us by chance are a tool for conscious magic that we can develop in various ways:

like...

 Paying more attention to what happens around us: 

Meetings with others, conversations, books, movies... synchronicity is often hidden in everyday details.

Continued from yesterday's post: Planters' Club

According to The Telegraph India Online, Planters' Club was originally called Darjeeling Club and it "used to function from a place called Thorn Cottage. In 1097, it became Darjeeling Club Ltd. and shifted to the building from where it runs now."

After relishing a couple of cups of fragrant Darjeeling tea while admiring the silver and gold peaks of Kanchenjunga from the balcony, we set out to explore Darjeeling. Of course, we'd made our dinner choices known to the staff at breakfast. Sadly, bread and butter pudding wasn't on the menu that night.

Wherever the British (during colonial days) made homes in India, bakeries emerged. My hometown, Dehradun, is famous for its rusks and sticky jaw toffee. Darjeeling has many famous bakeries, too. 

On our way to town, we passed a beautiful bakery near the club which had mouth-watering cakes and bakes on display in the window. We had just eaten breakfast, so, we carried on without indulging. 

After dinner that night, our second night at the club, we ventured into the bar.

I remember stepping inside a quaint room sprinkled with old world memorabilia. Its exact details fail me but the feeling of being surrounded by history and dark drapes emerges as I try to go back in time to write this post. 

I was a fresh lime soda girl back then. The husband loved his beer. He still does. He quaffed a few that evening.

The only other people at the bar were a group of four Europeans. 

Somehow, we all got talking. They were Tim (English) and his wife, Erica (Dutch) and Erica's parents who were visiting them. Tim and Erica were based in Calcutta.

The husband and I  had a super early start the next morning as we had decided to go to Tiger Hill to watch the sun rise over the peaks. So, after a couple of drinks, we bid our new friends good night and left.

Next afternoon, we bumped into Tim and Erica again.

Like us, they were headed to Gangtok the following morning.

'Why don't we share the jeep?" Tim suggested.

Super! we thought. By now we'd become very fond of them. And they seem to like our company, too.

The fact that Erica kept referring to her father as a mountain goat endeared him to me. And her father's prowess with beer chasers at the bar had impressed the husband no end.

Early next morning, packed and loaded, the six of us settled into the jeep we had hired with a driver to take us all to Gangtok, the capital city of Sikkim.

The drive through lush green tea gardens was what dreams are made of. Acre after acre of tea plantations looked like a giant's bonsai collection spread out on either side of the curvy road.

Someone decided it was time to stop for a break.

I was at the back of the jeep. So, I wasn't privy to plans being hatched among the others up in front. When a suitable spot was spotted, we stopped, got off the jeep, stretched our legs and claimed a spot to spread out a picnic by the roadside.

From a magical world, Erica's mother conjured up a white cardboard box which was filled with all the baked goodies we'd been admiring in the bakery the previous morning. Yes, if you're reading this and drooling and wondering about our luck. Trust me, I'm with you as I recall that wonderful picnic in the middle of nowhere. Without our knowledge, they had packed generous portions of deliciousness for us. The gods of full bellies and tasty treats were on our side, for sure.

We sat there for a long time, by the roadside, enjoying our picnic among tea bushes, munching apples, exchanging life stories and clicking photos.  

Erica used the phrase 'our children' a couple of times that day.  She mentioned how they'd gone camping with 'their children' once and how they'd love to explore these hills with 'their children' next time they come to Darjeeling.

I was taken by surprise as I didn't think they had any children. They looked too young to have children old enough to be left home alone  while they enjoyed a holiday! I was confused. 

"How many children do you have?" I asked.

"Nine." Erica smiled.

And then she told me about 'her children'. Erica and Tim were referring to street children they were working with in Calcutta. 

You can find out more about their work here: Future Hope 

We've lost touch with them. We moved cities and then countries. And only now, when I was reminded of our trip (for the sake of this challenge) did I find out just how big and wonderful Tim and Erica's family has become. 

I'll be sharing this post with them. Will keep you posted if I hear back from them.

In the meantime, here are two photos taken at the picnic on 29th February, 1996.

From left: Erica, her parents, Ashish (aka the husband) and me.

Tim joined the group in this one and Ashish clicked.

Our  paths will cross once more  in Gangtok. That story is for another day:)

*****

What's your favourite picnic memory, or a favourite picnic spot?

You know I'd love to hear, if you'd like to share.

This year, I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z  powered by theblogchatter.com 

O is for O! Cloudsmen #AtoZChallenge

Dear Readers,

Welcome to the third week of the #Blogging from A to Z  April Challenge 2021. My theme this year is based on the Japanese concept of Ichigo Ichie which means--"What we are experiencing right now will never happen again. And therefore, we must value each moment like a beautiful treasure."

I've put together a collage of such moments which can be seen as chance occurrences, coincidences, pre-destined or random (depending on who you ask) for this month's challenge. 

I hope you'll enjoy being here.

Thank you.

Arti

*****

Sharing one of the Rules of Ichigo Ichie stated in the epilogue today:

"Make every gathering a party.

Don't wait for the right circumstances--a vacation, a trip, a birthday-- to experience extraordinary things. 

With the right frame of mind, every day can be a celebration."

Quote borrowed from The Book of Ichigo Ichie           

Walks, long walks, long morning walks are my refuge. If I were to pick a physical representation of Ichigo Ichie from my life, I'd pick morning walks: solo, silent and serene.

It's no surprise then that most of my poems, writing ideas take seed when I'm immersed in the walk. The walks start the same way--noticing trees, cars, buildings, the path and the sky as they pass me by. I carry on--one foot, then another on a path I'm so familiar with that I often find myself getting lost. In the familiar and the ordinary, lives a world that takes hold of me and my thoughts. I dissolve. So that when at the end of the walk,  I turn the key to start my car, a smile grows inside and outside. I'm born again.

(note: I have to drive to a park to walk. Yes, I get the irony.)

H.G. Wells' words: "Once you lose yourself, you have two choices: find the person you used to be, or lose that person completely." put it more eloquently than I can ever manage.

Imagine losing the old self often, and discovering a new you everyday! The rooster in the film Peter Rabbit comes to mind. Imagine the wonder!

The poem I'm sharing today is an ode to The Torch, a 300 metre tall tower that is a five star hotel. I see the Torch every day on my walks.

Rainfall is rare in Doha. So, when clouds gather in our skies, we write poetry, sing songs and pray for rain. You'll find Instagram posts in Doha carry only cloudscapes when Cirrus, Cumulus or Nimbus come by.

O! Cloudsmen

O! Cloudsmen,

tell me where all you've been.

Show me sights you've seen:

lakes, rivers, puddles, meadows,

mountains, cities, gardens, ghettos.

"Rain your songs on me.

Shower me with your stories",  says

the Torch to the flock of clouds who pass him by

in Doha sky.

Says he,

"Encased in my garment of steel, I stand 

grounded and tall, occupying

space like trees, butterflies, humans and all.

Clouds, you dance.

I glow.

You travel.

I don't.

Yet, you and I are tenants of the same cosmos, tethered

to each other with stories, of course.

Tell me more.

Tell me another,

O! Vapour like brother. 

Help me fly 

with your chatter.

Although, I'm happy 

in my state of matter: solidity suits me,

but every once in a while,

your flocks' fluttery flight 

intrigues me.

So, I ask you this favour:

stories you've witnessed,

let me also savour.

And when you fly 

to your next sky,

tell the ones who are keen

that in Doha you'd once seen

a Torch who wore

an armour of steel, but housed

a poet's heart

to feel.

*****

Note:I read Namratha's poem, The world whispers - whisper back recently and was inspired to try out line breaks after the verb in this poem. 

Does it work?

Honest feedback will be handled well here. This blog belongs to a girl who's grown up;)

Are you fond of walks?

When do you feel most inspired to write?

Do you have a favourite activity to go to for inspiration or when you feel stuck?

You know I'd love to hear, if you'd like to share.

As we close another week of the A to Z,

I can sense fatigue.

Noticed a bevy of typos and spelling mistakes 

in my post from yesterday!

Apologies, I say.

 

Wishing you a restful Sunday.

See you with P

on Monday.

This year, I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z  powered by theblogchatter.com 

N is for New Beginnings #AtoZChallenge

Dear Readers,

Welcome to the third week of the #Blogging from A to Z  April Challenge 2021. My theme this year is based on the Japanese concept of Ichigo Ichie which means--"What we are experiencing right now will never happen again. And therefore, we must value each moment like a beautiful treasure."

I've put together a collage of such moments which can be seen as chance occurrences, coincidences, pre-destined or random (depending on who you ask) for this month's challenge.

Today's post, as the title suggests, is all about new beginnings. 

I hope you'll enjoy being here.

Thank you.

Arti

"It's Never too Late to Bloom"

When we think of beginning, of developing something new, often what comes to mind is a young person with their whole life ahead of them, but this is only a prejudice. We all have the ability to make a new start in life, regardless of age.

Quote borrowed from The Book of Ichigo Ichie

I was struggling to find 'N' related topics to write for this post when suddenly, out of the blue, a whole string of 'topics' popped into my universe on the 13th of April.

The first was a message sent by a friend called Nandini. No, I'm not making it up. That's her name. She wished me Happy Navratri. Then more messages and greetings poured in. 

13th of April 2021 was special because it marked Baisakhi and Vishu (as usual) but this year it also heralded Navratri (festival of nine nights honouring the Universal feminine represented as Durga or Devi, the Goddess).

The Holy month of Ramadan also commenced on the 13th of April this year.

Baisakhi marks the beginning of the Hindu solar year and is known by different names in different parts of India. My Punjabi family celebrates it as Baisakhi. The Khalsa was formed by Sri Gobind Singh Ji, the tenth Sikh guru, on this day in 1699 to fight against religious oppression imposed by the ruling Mughal emperor.

The golden blooms of the Indian laburnum announce Vishu, (or Bisu) celebrated in some of the Southern states of India. It's believed that this is the day Lord Krishna killed the demon Narakasura.

Navratri and Ramadan herald a period of fasting and travelling inwards, to ruminate and contemplate and renew ones connection to the Divine. These festivals, rituals, practices help us to slow down, to pay attention, to mulch our soul soil so that we may ready ourselves to embrace new growth, to nurture our ever-changing and evolving selves.

Despite the sequestering and the new normal, I found that the past year has been a veritable garden of new beginnings for me. No, I didn't slay any demons or topple any emperors, but I did come face to face with my  doubts, commonly known as self-doubts. They can be as lethal as demons and because they're invisible like the virus, they bring harm insidiously.

Soon after the end of last year's A to Z blogging challenge, a string of events unfurled many new beginnings for me. And almost all of them were the result of the connections I had made during the challenge.

Arti of my space put me on the path of open mic storytelling sessions (on Instagram) when she performed on one. I was intrigued. So, I asked her and she shared all the details. For the first time ever in my life, I performed my poetry and stories and I absolutely loved it. She also shared details of the National Story Slam contest. I sent in my entry and even got as far as the regional rounds. Performing a story is very different from writing one and that too on Zoom! Needless to say, the dormant performer in me woke up in 2020.

The Writers' Nook, by the Hive, a group on Facebook ,opened up for submissions for an anthology titled, Tea with a drop of honey. I sent them a couple of my stories. One got picked and there I was tucking another 'first' in my cap:)

Sonia Dogra, another friend from last year's A to Z, shared news of a poetry anthology. The Kali Project houses one my poems called 'A home for her children' and I couldn't be prouder.

By June of last year, I had not only started performing on open mic sessions every week, I even started writing and recording poems in Hindi. A YouTube channel was born to keep these recordings in one place and to share them with others. 

If you'd asked me in 2019 that I'd be looking at 30k hits and views for a poem I wrote about my mother's depression and bi-polarity, I would've laughed at the impossibility of it. But it happened and along with it came my first radio performance for Mirchi Scribbled, a well known radio platform in India.

For the first time ever, some of my photographs were selected in competitions. Poetry and photography platforms that were not accessible to me because of where I live, started opening up virtually in 2020. 

I'll stop tooting my horn as it's sounding very, very, vain. But, the point of this post is firstly, to show that it's never too late to start. 

And secondly, to highlight that before any of the above happened, it's the readers (friends, family and other bloggers) who kept supporting me with their comments and words of encouragement from the day I started sharing my writing (about 8 years ago). I can't name them all here. But you know who you are. 

New beginnings are easier to break through when one is supported. Danish Hussain, a fabulous actor, playwright, director and storyteller, who's open mic sessions sprouted the performer in me, gives 'the power of appreciation' credit for his success. He passes it on in spades to others.

None of what I may call as my 'achievements' would have happened if you, the readers of these posts, hadn't shown your love. Thank you, each and every one of you, for your love and time.

I recently read an article called 'Time to Take a Leap' published in the January 2012 issue of Red magazine. Yes, I keep old magazines for a very long time. This caught my eye: "The more times you put yourself out of your comfort zone and handle it, the easier it gets."

Even this year's A to Z was looking impossible to tackle in March. I felt I had exhausted all my material during the growth spurt of 2020 as I rely mostly on my memories. But how wrong I was! 

Like the yoga mat, where showing up is the hardest part, starting what you love to do can be hard. But once you hunker down, it gives and gives.

"If you're brave enough to do what you love, every day would be the best day of your life."

Quote borrowed from The Book of Ichigo Ichie

I'd like to wish you all new and wonderful beginnings with this delightful animated illustration created by the Bohra Sisters  based on a story I wrote.  

And for a change, every now and again, it feels good to pat ones own back and say: "well done you!" I don't think it's vain. I think it's akin to acknowledging the Divine within.

Have you overcome any demons recently? 

Did 2020 surprise you in a pleasant way?

Is there something you've done for the first time recently and you'd like to share?

You know, I'd love to hear.

*****

I'll re-share one of my poems here. In case you've got the time, you may want to listen. It's in English and it's called Mohini (only female re-incarnation of Vishnu, destroyer of demons, essence of Shaktism). 

This year, I'm participating in #BlogchatterA2Z  powered by theblogchatter.com