is there anybody in there?

We would have often come across the common phrase in english, ‘As busy as a bee’. With obvious refernce to the waylaid ways of the honey bee, who forever seems busy to us, continously gathering nector from the flowers, or fortyfing its hive, or doing something or the other, the phrase draws parallels to a person who lives a life like that, which in today’s rat race, practically refers to almost everyone. The sad part is that we’ve been so caught up just keeping pace with the way that things move ahead, that we don’t even have time for ourselves, leave alone our families and our loved ones. So, needless to say, these busy bees, trapped in the urban, fortified concrete beehives, is quite oblivious of what this is doing to them.

Picture this. A typical working man wakes up at 8 am everyday. Apparently, waking earlier than this is not even a near possibility as the much needed 6 hour sleep cycle wouldn’t get completed. He drains a mug of coffee, and a slice of toast, that too on the lucky days. Ms good old wife isn’t home you see, she does the early mrning shifts at work. He hits the office at 10 am, and an average day of work consists of chasing never ending goals, draining down 14 more mugs of coffee, n bout a packet of cigarettes. Lunch consists of a soggy burger, straight from the coffee shop at work, gulped down an hour too late. Shift over, he maked his way back home, packed in his cab like sardines in a can, making way through the polluted streets of city, back home at 1 am. Wifey is already asleep, you see, rising prices, rents, early morning shifts, can’t complain either. So dinner is served, cold and straight from the refridgerator. Hit the sack at 2 am, 8 am again next mrning, rejuvinated to take on the challenges of a new day ahead. Perfect.

This is the life style that majority of people are living in the big cities, a distant cry of what dreams they saw as school kids. It’s a stark reality, its definitely not going down well with the doc from next street. So when this typical corporate guy goes to the doc with headaches, dizziness, and inability to concentrate for long time, this is what the prescription says, “ Lifestyle disorders caused due to lack of diet, sleep, stress busting activity blah blah blah.”

In a race for achieving too much of perfection, man has actually forgotten the basic ingridients for a healthy life. In persuit of happiness, he has forgotten how to be happy, and doesn’t go too well for the human body, or his mind. What starts out as a nagging headache or a backache, can accentuate into discorders like migrain and spondalitis. There is also an increasing trend of high blood pressure, cholerstorol and increasing heart attacks among the youth, all off shoots of our unhealthy lifestyles. It wouldn’t be surprising then that despite the growth in medical technologies over the years, the life expectancy would continue to decrease.

In circles of the overworked, there is also a misconception that the human body can take it all. It’s a matter of pride for someone if he can work non stop, survive on a spartan diet, and still work to his maximum. But we don’t realize it that our body and our mind are not our enemies, and like everything else, they need the correct amount of rest, recuperation and unwinding. As in physics, when stress exceeds the sustainable limit, the material breaks. Similarly, the human body would eventually break down if stretched beyond the limit.

For most people, this act of unwinding is an impossible ask, as is setting aside a meagre 20 minutes in a day for themselves. But come to think of it, its not all that difficult. People have different ways of unwinding. For some, there is nothing like petting, or going for a short walk early morning, some like to medidate, others follow the various gurus on tv, doing the yoga asanas, the ways and means are many, one just has to listen to his heart, and set out doing what he wants to do best, before his heart just stops talking to him.

the enchantress

Impressions are a funny thing. What it sometimes does to you is that it fills your head up with expectations. Come to think of it, it plausibly germinates from a certain lack of knowledge, a misconception and sometimes even pure imagination. Some would even say that all it leads to is let downs. but then, what is life without a a dash of...impressions.

My tyst with my proffession has taken me to many places, some hot, some not so hot, some next to the sea, and some up in the mountains. And being a keen traveller, I must say that I’ve loved every bit of it. The prelude to every journey is always brimming with impressions – how would the air feel, how would the weather be, how would the people be..all certain basic questions I guess that usually flood the curious little human brain. So, when the compass needle pointed to the north east, it would not be untrue to say that I was jumping like a kid who got a new, shiny red cycle under his christmas tree when all he had asked santa was for a nice little white shirt. I’d always been in awe about the north east, the vibrant cultures, bamboo huts everywhere, the rolling hills and the thick forests, and the amazing food. I’m usually a patient guy, but the 15 hour journey in the Rajdhani that was to bring me to Guwahati was spluttered by nose presses on the glass window to catch a glimpse of the fleeting trees, going past at break neck speed, hoping that we reach our destination ahead of time. But then, when you’re desperate, the evil clock only goes slower and slower, and all forces work against you to hold time back. Well, so be it. True t its colours, the train got me to guwahati bout half an hour late, but to me, honestly it felt like half a day late. Did I mention earlier that I’m a patient guy??

Off we took to shillong in a thrilling bus ride, and as the picture unfolded before my eyes, I compared it to the impression I had of Shillong. Let’s first talk about the impression. Hmm..well…smoky and lazy…lots of greens and bamboos, every second house having a guy playing a guitar outside, pretty chicks with long hair wearing funky clothes, rolling green hills….and damn..was I right on all counts. Except maybe the guitar part, Shillong was eactly as amazing as I had imagined it to be.

How we remember places or events in life is also something quite peculiar. You see, there are events that define these..either they must’ve been a whole lot of fun..or the exact opposite, but when we go into flashback mode, these are the pictures and definite forms that play in our minds. It becomes more and more true as time passes by, and our memory starts playing tricks with us, leaving out the less important details. But surprisingly, if we somehow revisit that place, or the event, then even the lesser details become more pronounced, déjà vu is what they call it. The first step is to close the eyes, and believe me, when I do that, I feel the crispness of the breeze, laden with the fragrance of pine, tingling all my senses at once, transform me back to that amazing heaven.

Everything about this place stands out as being pure, yeah, that’s the word, pure. The air, the trees, the flowers, fruits, roads, the people, a hand of friendship, its as if your entire soul goes through a cleansing spree. Big words I know, but that’s how much all this means to me. Monday to Fridays were busy, so the weekends were looked forward to with earnestness. The initial ones were spent behind the handle of my little darling ( calling it a bike sounds too impersonal, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings.. she’s a bullet btw, so not so little either). She’d take me wherever the road beckoned, spiralling through winding roads, riding on the edge of numerous lakes, not a care in the world..jus off we went. Made the most of the most beautiful gift that we ever had..that of free will. This were the moments when I was seeing this lustrous hills from the eyes of a stranger. What is strange is that I never realized, and putting my strained concentration isn’t helping either, so I cant remember, when exactly did the eyes of the stranger transform into being the eyes of someone who belonged there. Maybe it was the friends that I made, who made me feel a part of the family, or the trip that I took with my friends from Delhi (that’s home btw), I would never know, but the two years thar I’ve spent here, I’ve truly been held under the spell of this enchantress. It transformed me from the concrete jungle that I’d been a part of for as long as I had lived, and showed how beautiful life can be right in the lap of nature.

Well life comes a full circle, and as I pack my bags to finally bid adieu to ‘this abode in the clouds’, I can’t help feel a tang of despair, at having to leave a paradise found, but also, a certain ray of hope, that these musical hills will beckon me again some day. I am travelling back to Delhi in the train as I write this, but honestly speaking, a part of me got left back right there.