isha's heart zone: A Writer’s Dilemma

isha's heart zone: A Writer’s Dilemma: I am back to writing again after a year or so, all this while I have just thought about writing again but didn’t get to doing it. Why ...

A Writer’s Dilemma

I am back to writing again after a year or so, all this while I have just thought about writing again but didn’t get to doing it.

Why today, I am distressed, yes like many times but something is different today. It’s a strange feeling may be like time slipping away in front of my eyes and I look at it doing nothing.

This new journey that I am about to take from today will take me through various moods and nuances, sometimes happy and many times not.

A writer has always been quoted as someone intelligent, I suppose. I strongly feel we are all intelligent but writers are more lonesome than intelligent. They deal with more conflict inside than anywhere else.

As a writer, I have been told by many people to write what readers like to read, a statement I have always found offensive. I write to ease my pain, I write so that I can find refuge from my inner conflicts. I write for my sanity.

Writing will always be about me, as for my readers if I can, even for a minute get their minds to start thinking, my job is done.

Writing after an year

Its been a year since I blogged or should I say wrote. I did scribble a few paragraphs here and there, in times of distress, but I would not call it writing.
I have often taken a lot of pride in calling myself a writer, but I haven't really been a writer. In this one year, a lot has changed, new beginnings, goodbyes, happiness and grief. The last year saw it all. In this mixed  bag of emotions, I have emerged as a new being.
 I am happy to write this after a long time, writing does give me happiness and contentment but it becomes vital in times of grief. I don't know why I abstained from it, even when I went through extreme pain in the last two years.
I might have been lazy, like I have always been.
In these years, I have read a thousand things about writing, including quotes which said, Writing is about lessening your own loneliness and not about others. Having said that I now feel, I should write often to feel less lonely.
Being lonely doesn't mean I am looking out for someone. It means humans are lonely animals and we spent all our lives looking for souls who can make us feel less lonely.
I am very happy to have a wonderful person in my life who makes me feel less lonely but there are moments when I slip into the blanket of loneliness.
I know I have become far too philosophical, but I guess its ok to be after nearly 2 years of writing.
I will write more to ease out my own problems.

Just for you mom

On this mothers day, itzz a different feeling.. Unlike the other years I m not there with mom physically but she still is pretty much the backbone of my life and also the oxygen of everything I do.
being a mom is not the easiest thing in the world and that also to two teenage girls. Its definitely a challenge but the ease with which my mom handled it is just amazing and that happened because she never behaved like a typical worried mom, she has been our silliest friend and the best confidant. Most of the times she jokes and asks us about  our new crushes. She might be worried for us but it never comes on her face. the way she sacrificed her little pleasures for us is something only she could have done. When we lived together before i came to Delhi, most of the times i took mom for granted which we all do at times. But being away from her has taught me to how special and important mom is. Sometimes itz like I just say hello and she asks me "What happened, are you not well." I am amazed at her instinct. I am so thankful to have a mother like her. Thank u ma thanks for everything you have done for us. I would be the best person on earth if I could become half as good as you are. So patient, kind, satisfied, good natured and god fearing. Itz truly ablessing to have you mom . thanks

The exam time I miss

Exam season is just over and the excitement to enter a new class is unspeakable. The smell of new books and looking at  the report card again and again is so special. The care with which new books are handled is just a remarkable feeling. Exam time may come with a stress but it also reminds me of the wonderful teaching sessions I had with papa. Yes most of my childhood, I was taught by my father since nursery to class six. A normal day would be coming back from school, followed by an afternoon nap, then playtime with some neighbourhood friends, my favourite tv time and then study when papa returned from work.
It usually started around 10 and ended in an hour or so. In exam time, he would skip an entire day to teach and help me with studies. This was his commitment in which he gave up all his leisure time to tutor me. There was  his unique way of teaching. if I would ever forget a verse of a poem or a spelling, i had to repeat it ten times and later even while going to sleep he asked me to repeat so that I learn by heart.
Most of my books fascinated papa more than they would do to me and he spent late hours reading my new books.After my exam got over we both discussed the whole paper. The exam time is finished now but I havent forgotten the lessons I learnt from him.
I never said that but I want to say it now thank you pa you made me what I am today. Love you..

soul sisters

March 15, 1994, 2.30 pm,,,
Town Ambala. was born a girl white as milk, chubby and rosy like an apple. She just looked a baby angel. I saw her in amazement and couldn't get my eyes off her. I gently touched her fingers and she held my index finger like she didn't wanted to leave them. She is my lil sister whom we named Disha practically because it rhymed with my name Isha.
I remember praying for a baby sister before she was born as I always wanted someone who could play with me and yes I got it. I am five years elder to her but she never called me 'didi' except in cases of crisis!!
We grew up and went to the same school and soon I became the protective elder sis who took care of her even in school and during recess. But yes we did fight like an friends and me y other siblings. She sometimes to express her anger locked me inside the room .(Yes she locked me!) Most of the times she always jumped in between my friends and me to play with us. Then came the study phase when I used to help her giving her English lessons. ( She thought I explained them well) and also the quiet lessons on friends and boys when she was growing up. Some of our best memories were when we out on annual holidays and had loads of fun playing badminton and fighting also. She turned 17 this March and has grown up to be a tall chick . Ya she is 5  feet, six inches, that does make me feel envious at times. You might find her shy and reserved but once she knows you she won't leave any stone unturned to make you happy.  Even though  we are apart the bond has become stronger and love her even the more. Thanks Dish!!!! you are sweetest lil sis I could have asked for.

The holiest holi

Holi came and went yesterday. My memories of holi go back to my childhood which meant Family,food and fun. the day previous to Holi, we all used to gather in what we call the 'mohalla'. A round place with houses on all sides and a well in between. There used to be a fire lit and everybody had to pray and take rounds around the fire. I as a kid went every year with Daddy and do the pooja. After the pooja was over everybody wished each other and put some 'gulaal' and leave. The next day we all woke up early in the morning and put oil all over from head to toe so that the color came off easily. We then went out and put colors on each other.Sometimes my sister and me filled balloons with water and threw on the people from our terrace. Exhausted after a wild array of colors there was food to indulge in . Sometimes dahi vadaa or rajma chaval, gujiya, samosa.
This year I there is no Holi celebration as there are assignments lined up to submit. No one here would lend his/her precious time to play with me.No good food, all that there is work and a vacuum. But I am happy for my family which played like always. Amidst the assignments and cooking, there is a desperate soul who misses every holi spent at home.There is a smile on my face while I wish everyone on phone and a longliness to be with them once again, to eat with them again , to feel their presence.That was the holiest Holi. Its been one hour since I stood on the terrace watching kids play. I soon gathered composure and went back to the assignments.