by Dambar Sah
How to get success with less failure ? How to compete with many other competitors in your field ? The important notes in which we have to focus and think before act and proceed in order to enhance or start our career, start-up and life in a complete new way. Stay tuned to be wise enough to learn practical world's irony .
Language
🇮🇳
Publishing Since
6/14/2020
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May 15, 2021
• Her miles of loneliness • "Chanda hai tu sooraj hai tu, O meri aankhon ka taara hai tu", her favourite song from 1960's, that she playfully sang for me, my Nani, in her batik print saree, during those humid days,"when the heatwaves last all summer" and she sliced the yellow, ripe mangoes with her monochrome beauty and meandering curls, and a stain of sweat on her creased forehead, of ages, ancient and revered. Her wooden almirah, carries reminiscences of Nana, letters, photographs and memories. She remembers and narrates her "working with men to challenge patriarchy", in the outskirts of Bihar, in a school, as a teacher. Her threads of memories rewind of her mellowed days, her eyes bulge with saltwater, she recalls her "Students' spirit held high", during the break of summer or Puja days. She sits by the window, awaiting, she rejoiced of the passage of nostalgia that took her to Nepal, her ancestral home, she smells the petrichor and the hilsa fish with mustard on the rainy days, her nerves thriving to get back and revisit her home, her homeland. The pensive loneliness rummaging her tears, I remember her face, watching daily soaps, yet a hollow that was set like an alarm. She was "seperated by geography, yet united by melody", her songs of India, her retro days, that has crossed borders and dared to seek a sanctuary in the corners of her heart. Her deserted life resembled cacophony of silence, her Gods visited her morn and eve and she prayed, selflessly for her children, grandchildren and wished an afterlife with Nana in a safer abode. I remember her joint pain, her constant companion that shrieked time and again. She retires to bed sulking into the pain, I remember to ease her with myolaxin, she always gave a smile with her newly braced teeth. Years passed by, in void, in looking for her grandchildren with her blurred cornea. Her anguished lament reverberated in her four walled room, eagerly waiting for her guest, me. Her mandir wih deities and the tulsi plant that Nana gifted still stands tall like Nana. But there is a void that she equates to and all the frolic of her marriage she boasts off in pride has an unfathomable emptiness now. Her soft voice remembering her love, weighs time and again. I remember how she narrated Nana's poetries to us and told tales and laughed around, camouflaging her long lost love and life. Love indeed, not 'a midsummer night's tale', but awaiting for a reunion, a unison amidst stars. My eyes scanned her tears, invisible, yet invincible, her memories spoke of times and she chose prosaic verses to store her loneliness, yet she was alive through her soft skin, a porcelain one. Her insomnia gave her enough thoughts, her own, a vacancy where she resides all alone, yet with living numbers. Now, she resides in the air I breathe, I sink, and her smell still lingers around my nose ~ lonely
December 9, 2020
Perspective and real meaning of freedom by quest of life.
November 2, 2020
The life experience from my eyes
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How to get success with less failure ? How to compete with many other competitors in your field ?
The important notes in which we have to focus and think before act and proceed in order to enhance or start our career, start-up and life in a complete new way.
Stay tuned to be wise enough to learn practical world's irony .
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