Why I am writing this in my blog I don’t know.I really have no idea that any one would read it or not. Or even if you crushed the paper and throw it into the basket.But still I will write. Because writing has ceratin advantages. As here the person who is writing can dare to write the truth. In face to face conversations often it does not happen.Moreover while writing I can be totally my own too,not to think of anyone else,and I can face myself also while writing.It often is a challenge to write things which I don’t want to and I love to accept challenges.Moreover blog-writing sometimes depends on the mood the air around me offers.I sometimes can reject it,but now I feel like accepting it.Though here one disadvantage is I can not interact with whom I am writing but still when I am alone like now I can often find certain words which gets lost sometime.
I have found the words now.
And thus I feel I should try to hold different pictures of life.
As it Offers.
As It comes.
I should write..for no one may be..
But for me myself.
Travel is like my inherent hobby.
I travelled across the countries for official works..sometimes just for travel..and I come across ceratin sketches of life..
I remember that day when I spent the night in a park..I walked on for long..but I stopped..as in the busy Gariahat(a hub of Calcutta) road I saw a dirty boy wearing a torn shirt with no buttons licking an already drank bottle of Pepsi..with a beautiful smile in his face..for a moment it appeared to me that is the Face of God..one evening I saw a farmer walking through the streets of Sector V(IT Park) like a lost man..among the corporates he is almost looking like an unmatched paradox..a clown..but as he passed with grains of rice in heaps in his hands..I saw his eyes bearing an utter ignorance to all of us.. another day as I am returning from Delhi and the Rajdhani crossing the Ganges over Allahabad I saw from the window that a man..dipped in the Ganges praying with hands together..it was a moonlit night..the Ganges shining white in moon..the moving train..its designs of the moving windows and the yellow lights floating scattered over the white water..suddenly I shivered..as not only before me I saw an scene but it was life at its pure..there the vast nature in full flow..and there in the river a single man standing un moved as almost like a solitary soul in the holy river..I met a coolie in Shahjahanpur station who brought me a chilled cup of tea in a chilled night and as the train moved and I went to give him money..he said smiling.. ‘Nehi babu..ap mahman hai!’(You are a Guest Babu!)..from where this may be illiterate poverty-stricken old man got such philosophy..where from?I saw a lonely woman watching the train passed over a lonely station as it was all her life meant for..an utmost desire flashing in her eyes.. I saw a blind old lady everyday coming at Hazra more and sitting and waiting for his boy to come as from there he got lost..I saw a small boy climbing a tree just beside a plateau in Orissa..it is a very common scene..but the brown plateau with the green fields and the tree with red flowers and the half-naked boy climbing it in motion..the scene..startled me..in a early morning..when night still hanging and the dawn slowly blooming I saw a Baul walking with ektara in hand..over the Lalmati or red grains soil of Santiniketan..again a picture of a alone man making her way through the vastness of the earth..I saw the faces of the people of slums who overnight got shelterless..an uncertainty symbolizing their existence..but still they carried on with life..thus life surprised me ..shocked me..greeted me..and touched me in different colours and shades..all the pictures put together will represent its vastness and again if the pictures like fragments are kept scattered it would show the individualness and completeness of life still..life is a mystery and I love to get folded in that mystery..thus I also continued with my life..
And thus now I felt I should hold these in words..
These invaluable moments..
The sketches of a single life.