Skip to main content

Change, missing lakes..

They say change is the only constant in this world. How this statement never irked the grammar Nazis, I would never know. However, change, in itself, should be comprehensive.
Past week, my life underwent another paradigm shift. Uprooted from the most peaceful city I have ever lived in, I shifted base temporarily to the concrete haven they now call Gurugram. Professionally, I am at a newer place. 
Personally, I never moved away from the great City of Lakes.
Bhopal has given me a new way of life and a chance to rediscover myself through different gateways. Right from the beginning, that city absorbed me like a long lost child meeting his mother. Cordial and helpful people, in office and beyond, largely shaped my comfortable stay for two and a half years. Never having to witness any wrongdoing or negative event, this city always gave me unreserved bliss. 
The home where I spent major part of my stay was probably the best home I could hope for. The morning view went like this:


Although I woke up to this view almost every morning, only the very last morning in that home made me realise that it was the most special view I ever had outside my balcony. All memories of those Sunday mornings spent with a cup of coffee and staring outside the window yearn to fulfill the void left inside. The nostalgia of rainy days spent on the threshold of balcony door, watching the people battle with the water outside still brings bitter dew. To say that this home was my temple would be a gross understatement. It was my place of redemption...
Another foot that made its print onto my life was the one I missed the most, craved the most and needed the most. People come and people may go, but a companion of joy, grief, harmony, mischief, tears, madness and love flourishes in the heart forever. For there is no heart without a beat, no beat without a name, no name like that name, that name which none can replace or change... That name which none can share.
Sizzling brownie, steamed momos, Shahi Tukda, triple chocolate pastry, plain dosa, choco lava, club sandwich, spring rolls, corn & spinach sandwich, chai with chakhli & mathri in the basement floor... Daliya Khhichdi, dal pasta, shimla mirch paranthas, dry fruit paranthas, homemade caramel chocolate, bukunu, palak pakodas... All make their presence felt diligently.
A salute to the JK Hospital that never failed us, the DDX Plaza that always stood tall, the Aura Mall that witnessed hushed evenings, the C21 Mall that gave warmth through snow, the People's Mall that made a day fantastic, the Van Vihar that taught us peace, the Kolar Road that was my backbone, the Boat Club that always fascinated my heart, the Raahgiri days, the VIP road, the Ganpatiji temple outside the city, the Lakshmi Narayan temple which blessed us, the DB Mall, the Aashima Mall which catered to my every need, the Windsor Madhya building which was my workplace, the Kaliasoth dam which colored the evenings, the numerous trees we decorated with 'Doggie Suicide Point' posters, the Habibganj station which brought me to this heaven, the Mangesh Heights which kept me happy & safe without ever asking for anything in return...
Wait, I believe, brings with it strength and depth. Waiting for the time to return to Bhopal, the city which put up with all my mischief without so much as a frown.











































For now, I wait...
Wait for the tide to turn..
Or take me within, back to the beginning..
To laugh and to fight again..
For now, I wait..
for the sun to rise again on my window..
caressing me with it's soft warmth,
lighting up the floor beneath my face..
For now, I wait..
for the moon to shine on my stove again,
tending to my thoughts with motherly love..
For now, I wait..
to claim that which I left behind,
to belong whence my soul is ordained,
to whom I devote my soul,
to those whom I pledge my allegiance..
For now, I wait..
for the lakes to call me again..
for the hills to fight for me..
For the Gods to cheer for me... I wait.

Comments

Translate

Popular Posts

Invincible truth!!

As a young lad, once Subroto Roy Sahara was yelling at the washer-man for ruining a pair of his favourite jeans. His father, late Sudhir Chandra Roy, overheard him and came over. After listening to his son, he told his son to apologise to the washer-man... Later, his father explained to him the reason behind it. He said,"You only have a right to criticise somebody when you have the ability to do the very same work better than them. Only then can you question their shortcomings! And since you are no good when it comes to washing your laundry, you had no right to yell at the washer-man that way."

godlyk Gokarna..

Its time to leave for Gokarna, bags packed and all... We reach the railway station and scoot about here and there, wondering where our train is halting and why isnt the announcement being made??!! Upon enquiry, it turns out that that particular train isnt gonna show up and that we have been fooled, once more, by the Indian Railways. Heads down, red-faced, we finally decide on going by bus, a full 5-hours journey through the foothills of Goa and Kanataka. Luckily, we all got seats at the back..