A Bugle Call...

The army never fails to captivate me.

I attended the Army day Parade recently. It was impeccable. Men in smart olive green uniforms with their respective regimental colours adorning their arm bands and beret, informing the other of their regimental loyalties, yet the uniform colour of their 'uniforms' conspicuously declaring their unity, that they belong to one country first. The officers from other countries who attended the parade simply stood out...they were different. Our soldiers seemed to merge and blend into a familiar green. Senior officers to the junior officers holding themselves with aplomb....how good they must feel to be in that uniform, to be serving the nation in the highest form possible. I feel a sense of pride.....

The demonstration of a combat situation was scintillating! The helicopters, right in front of you, at eye level, blowing up dust, tanks coming in full speed from behind, the thundering sound of the bombers. Soldiers demonstrating how a face to face combat with the enemy takes place......! We literraly were holding on to our seats. It was indeed a treat to the eyes and a pleasant jolt to the adrenalin...and specially mine which had become quite sluggish off late!

The brass bands, with their bugles and bagpipers, their colourful 'uniforms' rending out tunes never fails to send a chill down my spine. They play tunes, there are no words, but my mind can almost hear the harsh cold of the high mountains, the dreariness of the deserts and a song of the life that has been surrendered to the country. Some popular patriotic songs that I have grown up singing in school sounds a lot more stirring when the army bands play it their way, while they march in unison, their white 'boot covers' ( i need to know the exact name!), moving together in an effortlessly harmonious manner. Since I was a kid, I was captivated by the synchronic movement of the 'white boots'. I would get lost just staring at the white part of their dms boots as they marched on into anonymity....

The traditions of the army have always charmed me. The decorum that one needs to follow, the disciplined structure, it's culture and the slight touch of royalty that it exudes.....how would life have been outside of the army fraternity...? Almost unimaginable! Standing there, in civvies, yet feeling a part of the sea of olive greens, sipping coffee I was grateful to be lucky to have experienced the 'army life' in this life....!

"High in the mountains, buried deep in snow, when the bugle calls I will rise and march again"

The Streets of Vrindavan

The cold air did not give up ruffling my hair into knots. The auto did not seem to be willing to compromise on the speed. Wrapped in three layers of warm clothing I was enjoying the feel of my cold cheeks. We entered the town which seemed like one main road. The main eateries and shops seem to lie on this one road. The rest of the town was hidden in the lanes and by lanes off the main road. Having set foot on this holy land I embarked upon the adventure of wandering through the streets yet again.....

Walking through the lane leading to the Banke Bihariji Mandir... sadhus and rishis in their discoloured saffron and white robes with dread locked hair chanting as they walked along, what is their purpose in life...I can't help but wonder...not that I am certain of my own purpose here on earth but at the cost of sounding foolishly proud- I have a job, a family, friends and I am happy...period....but what goal do they live for. How can they do without worldly possessions? Are they truly happy? Stray dogs trotting ahead of us with an air of confidence, bet they know every turn and secret passage in these narrow lanes. Men, women and children, mostly pilgrims I'm guessing walking by chattering and chanting. Every devotee goes back with a different experience...and to each the experience is a cherished one, I presume.....

'Radhe Radhe' we greet the walkers in these streets. Many throng this mandir...many jostle to receive the 'prasad' and many crane their necks and bodies to get a glimpse of the god whose eyes speak to each one present there. Every human present in the mandir feels that the god is looking at him. I felt the same. The belief is that one has to look into the eyes of Bihariji and talk to him and pray. I stretched out my hand too to present the garland of marigold to be offered to god and yet again for the prasad, i craned my neck too to get a view of the lord. Just this act of offereing a garland forms a bond between the almighty and the self. I felt at peace. The hundreds present were chanting and praying, for once people were in a wave of unison. A lone voice singing praises of the lord, melodious by itslef. One goes out of the mandir feeling blessed. I gave a bit of my prasad to the first stray dog I saw, he seemed a bit lost with a tiny girl trying to shoo him away when he wasn't even interested in her. God bless him and people like him who don't even know what they are being blamed/punished for.........

Walking out into another street I see the rows of sweets, ladoos being sold as offerings. The shops selling colourful attire for the murtis of ladoo gopalji that one takes home and palces at the mandir at home. I took one too...

As we walked out, a young boy told me to remove my specs. The monkeys have a fancy for eye glasses. I glanced up and sure enough there were hoard of monkeys and their extended families perched on the roof tops. Was that little monkey eyeing me?! Go eye all those sweets please...!

The streets are crowded and the buldings through which these lanes meander go unnoticed. old and dirty, I wonder what they are used for now...what history do they conceal....Short of time and without someone who could tell me about them I trudged along.....leaving the brick lanes behind and a number of lanes unexplored.....

Love Note

Sunny and bright were those two days I spent with you. A warm glow of love enveloped us. The little things we did, the few words that were spoken and those that were not. When did we reach where we are today? I dreamed of this day once as we took a journey together. Is that why they say dreams do come true.....?

Don't ever ask me to let go of those moments....let's keep creating more, even if distance separates us, even if we face challenges..let's keep creating....