Organic thoughts

We were a generation free of revolutions... Free of rebellion… they said.
We were born in much safer homes and had stable life as youngsters.
We had all the world's time and space,to be, whatever we wanted to be.
All it was needed to be a channel of stronger current.
Straight towards the direction. A Bulls eye.

I guess I always knew that as a child.
But instead of picking up the direction, I chose to flow to whatever place I can.
In fact I did not choose… I just flowed
I drew, I danced, I studied …a little girl
It was just living the moment without contemplating
I am not sure whether I was a happy child
But I was always confused.

My neighbor once scolded to pickup tamarind from her tree
Since that day I have never eaten a tamarind
I did not give up, but I just decided that it was not important to me
And it didn't matter and it did not.
Untill in my 20s someone offered me one little tamarind,
I said no… I could not remember why I did not like it.

But there were many things that I always liked
Bells, kites, sunshine on grass, dried leaves,
The way water looks and sounds when poured in a glass
Eyes, mirrors, candle light, starry terrace, train, bridges,
Pretty flowers, but I hated the idea of a rotting bouquet.

I liked the idea of reading books,
They felt like they had treasures in them,
When I sat to read
I was very easily distracted by sentences and words
Every sentence led me to a different thought each time
I could not control my wandering thoughts
I could never complete a single book
My strayed thoughts would never even let me write
There were too many at the same time
Crowed and foggy, meandering from the single point
Strangely cinema was different
I was lost again, but within that film space.

Yes I was always organic,
But I thought my life would be much of a straight flowing river
I became an architect.
I was certain that I will be a great one
I do not know when I lost it
The unidirectional FLOW
I was suddenly far more organic than ever.

I gazed at the breeze blowing the leaves for hrs
I did not know why everyone was running
But I knew I didn’t want to
I wanted to wander
To see, to touch, to feel
To know more
To ask more

I never believed that I did not want to be an architect
I believed I did not want to be just that
I wanted to flow not stagnate
Not flow like a free fall may be
But just creep in all the corners I can
In all directions
Just like what water naturally does
I wanted to live organically

I wanted to be a devotee, a yogi, to fight, to paint,
To travel and to design and to make

We were a generation, free of revolutions...
But there were larger conflicts the inner ones
The ones that could not be ignored
A mind that led them
A mind full of organic thoughts

copyright reserved


Des Mera

Compilation of cartoons of Vikram Nandwani on the Song , " Des Mera" from Peepli Live
Hope they do not mind.


Emotional Atyaachaar ... Emotional drama of the late teens


You never saw this coming!!!  You might have heard that it happened with friends and neighbors but assumed that “This can never happen to me. I will not let myself ever get into something like that! I am far more superior and mature. I will handle the situation way too differently
And yet you experience that same story… variations of characters, sexes, names and situation are applicable...But moreover it is precisely the same.

This is the one time in life, suddenly you are exposed to the cruel and ruthless world!
Everyone wants a piece of you and no one seems to help you, nor will they make it easy on you. Slowly you feel that this is a very different world. Sometimes, beautiful than ever and other times , meaner than the beast himself.

The start of the story can always vary…but let’s take it as a beautiful, emotional, refreshing, life changing, self exploring, the new beginning and so and so on. You basically fall in love… you claim that your feelings are different than rest of the world. You are kind, giving, humble and self less. Let’s say, at least for some time, till slowly the WORLD changes you into a depressed, emotional and scary freak.

Anyway back to the start of the "love"


You always remember this as the best time in your life. In the need of exploring your emotions about THE ONE, somehow discovers your hidden talents that were buried inside you. You can now sing, dance, paint, write and compose as much as 3 or even more poems in a day describing your love. You have this undying need for expression… you look in the mirrors for hours as if you never knew how you looked.
You have new haircuts, styling makeovers, transformations in eating and drinking habits… and you call it a new chapter in life. You discover new meaning in the songs that you heard several times before. Out of blue, you have so many friends and relatives; nice and helpful. You wondered where they were before! But still you have only one TV channel in your mind… the one person, who can understand you truly. He/she who can peek deep inside you. You do not have to speak to communicate. He/she just knows!

Slowly … things start melting down … the so powerful telepathy reduces, you believe there are exterior forces are work. Either THE ONE likes someone or in some other way you come to know that this is never going to work out. 

All problems career, family, friends all crop up right at that point. You doubt whether this phase will ever end. You crib, you cry and complain. Ask friends of advices. (They are more or less going through same situations, so they end up giving you stupid advices or nothing at all.) You regret everything that happened. Why me??? Why not??? Why? Why? Why? Why? You feel you are trapped into unbreakable, viscous tornado of life. Nobody can help you, they just add more fuel to your thoughts.

You cling on to that one sole thought;"Where did those beautiful days go!" The more time you cling on, more time you impart the Emotional atyaachaar to everyone around you and yourself as well. Once again you discover newer meanings in the same songs. See endless films, hear sad songs and cry your heart out, change hairstyles, dressing styles and then once again look in the mirror and ask “Where did the old me go? I have changed so much. ” You feel that you have come a long way. 


One fine day, you are inspired, either by song, or a film or some person or at times it can also be philosophical thoughts of life and death that find you in the perfect situation to influence. You are transformed! ...Into a peace loving and calm person (at least now) This is a new chapter in your life. You have left behind everything. You have a new purpose in your life. Your passion. Your work. You feel that there are so many things in life worth living and dying for. “I must go on and serve my purpose of life.
I am talented, gifted. I can do so much.” 

You see the world with a better eye now. You feel that no one is bad at heart. It is the situation that makes one. You feel that the whole experience made you into more mature person. You are all new and grow up. You think, “These kinds of situations will never come in my life again and if they ever do, I will tackle them in most mature manner. I am a changed person now."  



The Wari..2 years back!

As I lay in bed today, with my entire body is aching and legs crying out in pain, I recall how the day started in excitement. A sleepless night, the day before, anticipating the next day, mind full of colorful clips formulating a unique collage of images that I had seen on television before and few witnessed, some read off and a lot heard about. There I was waiting for what the next day would be like and strangely struggling to get sleep, so that my sleepless night would not be a hindrance and give me a physical fatigue. The alarm struck and before could I sleep, had to jump out of the bed and get ready!
There it is. Bags packed with tit-bits of food, water, rain coat and not to forget the camera. With by shoes on and sack on my back, left the house, others in family yet asleep, it was around 4 am. On Swapna’s bike then left for Tejas’s Kaku’s place. Stopped by on the way, had to refill the bike fuel. The fuel man saw the camera bags. He took us for television reporters and started asking all sorts of questions. Swapna promptly answered; we are from “star Maza.” I thought for a moment, he will tell his friends in the morning that he met reporters on their way to Alandi.
2 cars then left for Alandi, 8 people in all, being stopped by police, road blocks,then tricking police and making way to get near Alandi through the narrow dusty village street . As dozens of warkaries seen quietly walk down the road and the trucks flooded with the warkaries crossed our way, I could guess we were near. As the truck traffic increased, we thought it would be wiser to get off there. The cars dropped us there and turned around wishing us good luck.
Fresh morning breeze and the colorfully dressed people crowded my site. All getting ready for the day and many already on the walk, singing abhangas and carrying different Vinas. I felt a strange freshness. We made our way to the temple, could not enter due to the crowd, took darshan from the door steps, taking wishes for the walk and then we began.
Before we left Alandi, we had a hot steaming breakfast of the pohas and I bought a mala, as I could not resist the temptation of the street hawkers lined up, all selling those, of different colors and patterns. Now I had my own. The Ghats of the river were concealed by people far and wide, everywhere my eyes could reach. Suddenly the place was enormous, hording so many people within it! Alandi was spectacularly colorful, clothes being the main pallet. The rest was its colorful canvas of the village itself. It was dressed up for the occasion; all new stalls, eateries, hawkers, shelters and tons of hoardings and different songs praising the lord and describing the wari were ringing everywhere.
At one point you stop admiring the spirit but start living it and become an integral part of it. It becomes difficult to be disconnected and then look at it. You are just there.
As we walked pass the village and the road lined by small and big houses, the locals lined up all the way for the Darshan of the Palkhi and to wish all the warkaris good luck for the pandharpur yatra. Many distribute fruits, biscuits and Prasad. You can feel that the entire city is taking part in this event, all of them irrespective of their cast or class. The village governor had organized a band for the occasion and it played filmy songs! The temporary stages long the road sides distributed food and the loud speakers announced the several names of politicians sponsoring the event. They all made themselves look like great donors of the century, wearing clean white kurta- pajamas in the contrast to the colorful crowd.
Well, the crowd was cared less who distributes what, save for, they wanted it all. Many ran for it and others just stick to their way and sang and walked along.
It’s probably said over and over again, so many people, lakhs in numbers, all of them gather and the only thing that drives them is the fate in their God and you still cannot stop yourself being amused by that. The fleet of the feet, tell you a lot about where these people come from. Hard core farmers, or some other husbandry work, all doing labor work, the tanned skin for years and them most dirty feet that make you feel as if they are made of iron or something that can take any rock or thorn in its way.
Eating tambaku and then spitting it right on the same road as they walk, make you wonder, generations might have passed, all still the same, probably they live in total different world where completely different things are important to them or may be things that people in city care for, they just care less. All of the people from a small little houses, wait for the Wari every year. Pandhurangachya dharshanala, Or may be just a picnic, whatever it may be, but definitely it is important to them and a part of their life.
All along the walk, there were stalls that provided tea, biscuits, bhajis, plastic mats to rest on and other basic items. I was just wondering where these small shopkeepers come from. Well, these also come from the same villages and mostly from Pandharpur itself. They keepon shifting the stalls from time to time as the Wai proceeds.
The Darshan of the Palkhi, was something most unique to experience. At the Alandi phata, we had climbed a hill and waited to see the palkhi pass. We were not the only once to do that. The scene could be described as a road surrounded by small hills, where the road and the hills were just enveloped by people everywhere I could see. We met Abhijeet and his friends there, photographers capturing the essence of the day. I was so jealous, not knowing how a camera can be used well, to freeze the moments. Yet I still tried my bit!
After a long waiting, what we saw was just amazing… As the palkhi moved ahead, people who had climbed up the hill, just ran down on the road to get the glimpse of their God, a extreme powerful magnet in the center that just pulled everybody near it ! Certain man near the palkhi had a chabuk that he wiped to keep the crowd at a distance, yet people tried again and the palkhi moved… and then so did we.
We walked all the way noticing different people within all the same ones, singing differently, eating, chatting, chanting, walking, running and pushing. Who knows in what hurry they were or just trying to have fun? At some point I stopped thinking, my problems had vanished, my ambitions did not mean anything, and all I knew was that I was walking. May be that’s the reason why all come here because they forget themselves. It is some kind of a high, high in the spirit.



Vihir :
The well

A film written by Girish Kulkarni and Directed by Umesh Kulkarni
My post on passion for cinema:

Link: on Passion For Cinema:

Vihir is a story of a boy’s discovery of realities of life, a story that succeeds in addressing the inner struggles of teenage boy, who is growing up to confront the situations of death, sorrow, pain and compromise.His dreams and desires constantly clash with the realities. There seems to be a thin line between the psychological and emotional quotient of life versus its practicalities that makes it difficult to distinguish them from another. There comes a stage in everyone’s life when one starts realizing this ‘differentiating line’, which seems to grow wider and stronger. Such is the story of two boys … Sameer and Nachiket.

The two characters are beautifully portrayed to depict distinct perspectives towards life. One of them is in pursuit of exploring things but feels tied up by these bonds of practicalities and the other one is striving to understand this quest of exploration

The visual portrayal of the conflict faced by Sameer, of the rejection of certain situations that occur in the course of time, presents an illusion of his actual life, as if trapped in the vicious circle and monotony of life that continues without any changes despite the loses, until one day, he runs away, to seek answers to his questions. Nachiket in a way has passed his torch to Sameer and his journey completes the circle, implying that he found out the right thread to hold on to, leading to an “equitable” life further.

Each of the characters surrounding Sameer is carefully etched, each one dealing with an inner conflict. He/she has succumbed to the struggle and learned to accept the faith. The grandmother and the grandfather with nonconformist son and the liability of their four daughters, the youngest aunt urged to get married against her wishes and the older aunt with a drinking and abusive husband, the idiosyncratic uncle with his differences with normative social behavior and Sameer’s mother’s guilt of not having helped her sister’s husband – all of them live with a submission to their situations.

The story captures the essence of the semi-urban and rural life in India, a family sprinkled in the city, village and town, the impacts of urbanization, girls married off in the cities, kids migrating for education, middle class values and customs, the economical predicaments faced by them that overshadow the very family life, the little things that always matter more and a simple envelope for a yet complex life. In a nutshell it is a heartwarming depiction of traditions and fine values of a classic Maharashtrian middle-class lifestyle.

This is a film canvas, where one could surrender and move through the spaces during the private discussions in the night and then experience the run in larger open fields. There is a contrast use of day and night, use of different spaces of a larger space for different emotional nurturing – at times playful corridors, tense smaller rooms, suspenseful dark corridors opening into moon lit open areas, a cozy and personal attic, distinct swimming spaces…deeper, shadowy or larger . A film that outgrows the story, becoming more of a ride of experiences, which one might have left, locked up.


Few days back

Few days back, just on the road near my place, a crowd had gathered around a 7 yr old girl. She was crying and scared! I stopped by to ask a familiar face. I was told, that she had fell of a bike and her father drove away, not having knowledge of this! This was crazy indeed. A lady seemed familiar to her, so was going to inform her home, nearby. It was almost 20 minutes passed, the father had not returned and the girl, too scared to say anything. I went to my gym as there was much more of a crowd, well neighbors.
When I came back, I inquired a boy playing on the street. He told me a new story altogether. The man on the bike was not her father. He had threatened her, to come with him and when she fell off; I assume during a struggle, he did not stop, as he saw that people had gathered already.



An idealistic approach to design a jail... written with help of a friend's research on jails in India

The self crowned kings and princes of the Noir Empire,
Now captive behind a bars are these terrors,
Not as a chastisement alone,
But for them to envision a new world;
The Verve, they could never aspire for themselves
A life without the blood, without hate and pain,
A life without revenge and curse,
A life without weapon or the knife,
It is not a wall surrounding them
But an opening to live within the society again,

As they enter here, in this small world within,
With a constant eye observing them,
They will learn to live and work,
In This neighborhood with a human touch,
They find a purpose to live, and to dream again,
Exploring around and within,
Discovering a new self …
Superior in so many other traits,
The opens within the closed,
A freedom towards the inner being,
Recurring the spirit of the goodness,
As they become once ready to be born again.



The fantasies become integral part of the real life, helping us to grow as we imagine and associate our imaginations to the realities of life. We all grow imagining and dream all throughout the life and yet have a strong line of definition of what is real and what is not. Our dreams and imaginations secretly add spice to our private life, all of us hold on to such secrete imaginations.
When I was young I related several incidences to films, comics, cartoons and books. I had this strange desire to have a confrontation to some kind of adventure in life and then I would be prepared for the same and several times did I make up stories like these. I collected weird things that I thought would be useful in those times of difficulties. While doing all of these things, strangely I always knew that I do not really believe in it, but at the same time enjoyed doing it; amusing? Or is it similar to your story too?
What I really gaze about is, that when did this really stop. I do not really relate anything to fantasy anymore or is it just that our meaning of fantasy has changed and evolved as we have grown? But when did this change take place and what could be the factors responsible for it?
And yet sometimes even today, when we hear those favorite stories of childhood, they make complete sense and we all call them stupidity of some sort.
Do we all still have secrete fantasies? Have they have just vanished completely or are there small moments when they get back, if they do, then why do they come back? And do they ever help you in any way?
Can you help speculate this?


the chase


using camera for the first time ...
the chase

"Our quests of search of the righteous thing in our life make us pass through all kinds of explorations and struggles. What happens when we finally concur the peak? The questions of end of the run and the run of the exploration both remain equally unanswered!"



The game is deceiving, players keep on changing
The dice rolls on, numbers keep turning
Nobody wins, nobody loses,
As the rounds and rounds keep on happening,

One player drops out, leaving an empty seat,
Just a while before another turns around,
Taking a different seat,
he will settle in the play ground,

Lot more rounds to go, can’t stop here,
The end is far far away,
But at least next few rounds are clear!

The trickeries and mockeries are just few aspects of the game,
There are many many more, all in the fame,

Hold on firm, to your roots,
don’t let yourself be washed off,
you are the player, who has to stick around,
cannot leave the game,
you have to witness all on this play ground!



Khoop palatay mann,
Je nahich ahe tyachya mage,
Khotya swapnanchya mage,
eka mrugajala chyach mage,

lambun vatata ki panich ahe ,ani javal jatach phajiti hote,
mag hoto prachanda trass, tahan kadhi hi bhagel ka?
pan thodyach velat navin pani doorvar disata,
mag te tyachyach mage dhavalyala lagata,
parat navyane, navin jomane, navin spuratine,
pan pudhe jatach tech yeta haatashi … ek mrugajal paratahi,

tari pan mann thambatach nahi,
tyachi tahan bhagatach nahi,
punhna tich chuk satat karat rahata,
panyachya shodhat dahi disha bhatakat rahata,
kadhitari pani haatala lage, hich aasha javal balagata,
khoop mrugajal asaletari, pani milel nakkich.

pan dhavata dhavata, dam lagto,
ekada haluch kadhi vichar yeto,
tahana nakki kashachi ahe ?
panyachi ka nustich palanyachi ?
pan ha prashna sudhdha nakki sutel,
panyachi tahan nakki lavakarach bhagel.


The quest ! my first poem.....

The quest!

The quest to find what you like,
The struggle to find for what, you want to fight,
The endless search of the troubled eyes,
The run behind the unknown and… the time flies!

The clashes of your dreams and realities,
The endless arrays of questions and the painful mockeries,
Portraying yourself bold and hiding away your fright,
A big hollow, deep inside,
Pulling you further away from your own site!

Trapped inside a maize, several paths to choose ,
But can’t see the one that you do not want to lose,
Further away it is there…
Or is it just a lie?
Over looking it and stopping yourself to even try!

Gazing away at the sunsets and awaiting the sunrise,
The depth of the silence seems to surprise,
Out towards the sky you want to fly,
But the wings are absent,
How can you fly?

The talks of the town, the praising s and showers,
Shrink you down as above you they tower,
Becoming responsibilities and burdens,
That you want to slay them down,
And feel weightless once again and
Just glide around.

- Prarthana Joshi.


As Youngsters what does one interpret ‘religion’ to be,

During our education we all study the evolution of man, if that holds true or if considered to hold true, one might also believe in evolution of religions. We can assume that as men moved around the earth and civilizations grew from few people to larger cities, so did their religion; the religions enhanced, progressed and flourished individually. All, having a sole idea of the all mighty addressed by various names; God, Allah and Dev. Their definitions vary but the concept of a power, something phenomenal, sublime and the greatest, to whom one should pay respect, pray to and thank to. The protector of all. None of the religions teach evil and nor do they tolerate any. One can then consider religion to be a way to address their own God or an individual’s sacred path to reach out to God.
I have never read any religious books, but yet believe in God strongly. I think one can define religion for oneself; it is a belief one sets and lives a better life with the help of it. It elevates him and makes him stronger and confident to do the right and to fight the wrong.
A new born child never understands religion or is not born with pre philosophy of his religion. He understands it as he grows. What does this imply?
If my philosophy holds true or even near to the truth then why do we fight over religion or condemn each others beliefs and makes issues out of minor things. We are educated and yet the same like the other lot!

Prarthana (PJ)