The one with the struggle above the sea

Evening dawned, and with it a struggle.

High above the roaring waves of the Arabian Sea, a battle was ensuing. A mixture of bleak colours fought admirably. I was there, watching it all unfold. Somewhere deep down, I knew who would win.

The blue was missing. I loved the blue of the Sky. It brought serenity with it. Clear and crisp, the Sky was usually the best way to remind me that calmness was essential in life. Today, however, there was no Sky… At least not in its entirety. Here and there, the chaos below the Sky made way for its blue to streak through. In some places, where the rest was missing, the Sky could be seen clearly. It made me realize that even in the most chaotic of times, you can find peace… if you only know where to look.

The grey was a different story. I did not like the murky grey. The clouds that bore this colour were not simple wisps of heavenly cotton – instead, they were ugly and gargantuan, poised to strike. Not only were they huge and monstrous, they were also plenty in number. They were uninvited guests unlikely to take no for an answer. They wanted to conquer the Sky. They wanted to stow the blue away. They wanted grey. They wanted wetness. They wanted to pour. A moment ago, they were non-existent. Now, they were simply there… Appearing out of thin air (which was probably how they were formed). And as I watched it, another realization hit me: problems in life are just like these rain clouds – sudden and random. They can appear at any time in life and can cause chaos as they please. There might be one small grey cloud, or there can be a whole army.

Contrasting the grey was the shining light and my favourite: the yellow. The gift of the Sun and one last hope against the grey. The yellow battled with pride, being weak but also brave. With the help of the blue, it struggled to push the grey away. Using brilliant techniques, it searched for cracks, nooks and crannies in the rain clouds and tried its best to shine through. It was losing. I wanted the blue and the yellow. I wanted the streaks. I hoped it would win. But somewhere deep down, a well calculated decision had made me bring my umbrella along. This only meant one thing: grey was about to win. But the Sun would not back down. And herein lay another bout of revelation, seemingly tailored for me: even in the darkest of times, don’t give up. Be weak, be vulnerable, let the odds be against you but DO NOT GIVE UP. EVER.

I knew the yellow would lose. I knew that grey would shroud blue for months to come. And above all, I knew the outcome of this fruitless battle: monsoon. The first downpour. Rainfall.

And as I stood below my umbrella, an expected outcome becoming real right there in front of my very eyes, another revelation struck me. It shook me. It made my eyes twinkle. Perhaps in the same way the lightning, born from the union of two rain clouds, did.

I swam in this knowledge, in this key realization that would probably uplift my mood for the next few days as I saw the downpour, as I saw the yellow from the Sun overcome by the grey from the clouds, as I saw the blue from the Sky become one with the winner of this great battle of nature. And I smiled.

Because as I saw the rain tumble down in heavy droplets victoriously; as I saw it pelt the ground forcefully and in its full might, I saw something brilliant. It made me realize this: Monstrous and unyielding, the grey clouds may bring darkness, but at the same time, they gift us rain and in doing so bring about real beauty of nature. Similarly, life may bring problems, and along with it darkness, but why at all should this mean that the problems are our doom and forever?

After all, it wasn’t a battle. It was just another chapter of life. Another phase. Another cycle. And while the clouds had conquered, they too would pass. They too would go away. And one day, the yellow would shine again.


Heya Bleedsters!
Saying that it has been a long time since my last post would be a gross under-statement. Its been a busy year for me and I am not ashamed to admit that the frequency of the posts has been shaken up quite a bit because of that. But that does not stop me from writing another post for you guys. I hope it provides some sort of an inspiration to all. Better late than never, and even better than hardly ever, right?
Love,

Kunal.


As always, if any of it made you smile, laugh, frown or giggle like a little baby, comment share and like! To be up-to-date with my other posts, give a like to my Facebook page and follow onTwitter if you use it! Any images used are either taken from Google Images,  from my own personal collection or some other sources (which will be mentioned if and when, unless stated otherwise). Contact me if you want it removed.

Advertisements

Monsoon in Mumbai

Hey Bleedsters!
Not everything has to be about something. So, I decided to write this post about rains in Mumbai. It is an extremely unique experience. Tell me your views on this post!
Love,
Kunal.


Rain had attacked Mumbai like bullets for four days non-stop. Everything was wet. Nearly all the streets were clogged, the whole city at a standstill. While some parts of Mumbai were smart enough to not venture out of their houses, those zealous and brave citizens who had taken their chances were now stuck in traffic. Horns blared around impatiently; angry, fed-up drivers were peeking out of their cars carefully, trying not to douse themselves in water, trying to find out the reason behind the hold-up. Voices were being raised in the distance. The traffic lights were blinking orange in patterns, denoting that it was out. A poor old policeman stood amidst the chaos, trying to solve the complicated knot of cars around him. He stood no chance to resolve the issue anytime soon.

 

The fifth day, skies cleared. The ugly, gloomy grey dissolved into a shining, sunny blue. A depressed Mumbai turned jolly. Droplets sparkled in the sunshine. It was blissful for those, who wanted it to stop. Finally, the rains had halted.

 

Nothing is permanent. Knowing this, many citizens had finally stepped out of their homes to meet other people, or to restock their houses knowing that the rain could resume anytime soon. They rushed in every possible directions, umbrella or raincoats folded in one hand while shopping bags or purses in the other.

 

Elsewhere, vendors were removing the protective plastic sheets from their products: clothes, spices, jewellery etc. They were checking the skies frequently to determine whether they needed the protective sheets again. After a deep coma, Mumbai was living again.

 

It felt great. Those who had lots of free time dared to go to the beach area, where the waves slapped the rocks and sand on the shore sadistically. The sand itself was wet from the showers, the day before. Many of the beach-goers, who had mindlessly taken a seat in the sand, had problems because the wet sand had lodged into places. Dry sand is easy to shake off, but wet sand? That is a whole different story.

 

While the market vendors restarted their businesses for the day, food vendors on the beach were also not so far behind. The fastest type of food vendor was the roasted corn stall. He pulled his cart energetically, setting up the coal and the stove. Pulling the sack on top of the cart was not an easy task, yet he seemed to do it with relative ease. One after the other, he pulled the husk of the corn, neatly piling the raw corn in a stack, ready to cook until the coal was ignited.


Within minutes, the aroma of hot, cooked corn (which was rubbed with spices) seemed to emanate from the cart. The beach, wet and almost about to dry from the weak sunshine, was alive with hunger. Like moths to a flame, the beach-goers were flitting towards the corn stall.

 

Meanwhile, the Shawarma Guy was also readying himself. It took a bit longer for the Shawarma stall to be set-up than the Corn stall. The smell of spicy, cooked meat wafted through the atmosphere, mingling with the aroma of cooked corn. Heaven for hungry tourists.

 

In other parts of the city, children were dancing and playing. Heavy rains had assured that their school would be shut down for the day. All the lectures had been cancelled because of the heavy downpour. The children had not been allowed to rejoice because of the worried mothers, who didn’t want them to catch a cold or fever. But now? The rain was gone. The skies were clear. The clouds had disappeared. It was the perfect time to rejoice.

 

Their happiness was short-lived, however. It was raining – again! In no time, people were scurrying inside their homes or hunting for cover once more. The vendors were rushing like crazy to hiding spots. Protective sheets lined their carts and stalls once more. The rain showed beach-goers no mercy. In the matter of seconds, every person on the beach was totally drenched. The pitter-patter from the rain could be heard forever and ever … or so it seemed.

 

Everyone wondered how the rain had begun once more. A moment before, the skies had been clear. Now, however, the gloominess had returned. The clouds had ganged up together, so that the thick grey hid the bright blue of the sky. Droplets of water attacked every inch of the city heavily.

 

Those, lucky enough to be indoors, sighed in relief at their better judgement of not venturing out.

 

An old woman sat near the window, in just another apartment in Mumbai, quoting musingly, “Life is like rain. One must always be prepared,” while her grandchildren pondered in interest.

 

It was time for the Monsoon in Mumbai once more.


As always, if any of it made you smile, laugh, frown or giggle like a little baby, comment share and like! To be up-to-date with my other posts, give a like to my Facebook page and follow on Twitter if you use it! Any images used are either taken from Google Images or from my own personal collection or other sources which will be mentioned if and when, unless stated otherwise. Contact me if you want it removed.

The Forgotten Beauty

Some days are just tiring. Today was too, for me.  The onslaught of lectures and practical sessions in my college that began at 9 in the morning finally ended after 7 to 8 hours. Even in such a cool climate, sweat dripped down my forehead. Laziness creeped into my eyes, inch by inch, and before I knew it, I found myself desiring a re energizing drink down my throat. It was just one of those slow days.

I plopped myself down on my bed, with my smart phone in hand and opened my Facebook page. And that was when I stumbled upon a picture uploaded by one of my friends Pranav from Naked Wolves. And man, oh man was it breath-taking:

Copyright Pranav Hegde from The Naked Wolves

Copyright Pranav Hegde from Naked Wolves

I don’t know how, but I immediately felt fresh. Something about this snap was rejuvenating.

Such is the beauty of Nature. Personally, I was never into trees much. When people said stuff like ‘Mother Nature is the best!’ or ‘Look at the Godly creation of trees and plants’, I would simply nod my head absently, without giving a look to what they were saying. This time, however, I couldn’t help but notice the intricacies of our world.

My eyes first fell on the green. A carpet of green grass seemed to liven up the place. Without it, the place would look simply bland. The world seems to breathe through the trees. Just staring at the glistening leaves, dampened by the rain, is pleasing. It can take the tiredness away. It did for me.

And not only the green, but the grass and leaves are accented by the subtle droplets. Rain is the best thing that can happen on this Earth. Sadly, when people hear rain, they think of floods, potholes on the roads, malaria-infested muddles*, delay in local transport services and similar horrible things. But then anything in excess is bad, is it not?

Thanks to this picture, the next time I remember rains, this lovely waterfall will paste itself in front of my eyes. The next time I hear the pitter-pattering of rain, I will immediately recollect the smooth rocks, bathing in the water while the grass below it thickens. The next time it rains, a revitalizing scenery of Nature, bubbling with life will appear before my eyes.

All the way from the small flowering bushes giving out a sweet aromatic fragrance, to the towering moss-covered trees and the rhythmic sound of raindrops attacking the ground, rocks and mud serenely, I will remember Nature like never before. I hope you will too.

Some extra Links for you to check out:
Naked Wolves: https://www.facebook.com/200nsPuneMumbaiNW
Ride to the Unexplored: https://www.facebook.com/rideunexplored

Picture Credits: Pranav Hegde. Thanks, man, for lending me this snap. Rains are awesome! 😀

As always, if any of it made you smile, laugh, frown or giggle like a little baby, comment share and like! To be up-to-date with my other posts, give a like to my Facebook page and follow on Twitter if you use it! Any images used are either taken from Google Images or from my own personal collection. Contact me if you want it removed.

*Muddles are mud puddles, a word I just made up. This needed clarification because apparently, it also means something else.