I wish I had known - A tribute to Steveroni (1933-2015)

One reason why I haven't shut my blog is that I have my treasure trove of memories in the posts, comments and pictures. That I have not been frequenting here is another story by itself but today, I wish to record the absence of one such peep whose sad demise was unknown to me until two days ago.

My beloved Steveroni.

From the time, I began blogging, he has been a regular peep who popped lovely, funny, insightful and genuine comments every now and then. We then connected beyond blogs and started communicating through emails and then Facebook. He used to blog in The Fourth Dimension and now and then I visited his blog as well. But those memories belonged to my active years of blogging, which were between 2008 and 2012. The posts were intermittent but we always managed to keep in touch. He last commented on my blog on 07/02/2015. How I wish I had blogged regularly so that I would have somehow known that the silence from Steve meant that he had transitioned.

This irks me about the online world, that some things are never known. Perhaps people might miss the posts and wonder but some would never know. How strange it is to realise that the happy and vibrant Steve would never ever comment on my Facebook posts or my blog posts!

Perusing his Facebook profile and comments, I got to know that Steve has passed on to the other world in September 2015 and a year later, I start wondering and get the news. I also think what I would have done if I had known earlier?

I would've not awaited his comments on my posts on Facebook.
I would've not checked my mailbox for a reply for the mail that I had written to him.
I would've not awaited his posts on my posts.

This is the second peep that I have lost from my blogging circle. And, to think that I have not even met him makes me melancholic. I wonder how many friends are still in the dark about Steve awaiting his comments and words of wisdom.

I will miss you dear Fiddleman - Hope we meet somewhere there. Until then, be well and spread cheer - which you have taught us to do.

An excerpt from one of his mails to me:

Do you know? I had a strong feeling that your life was changing for a month or two. You 'writings' had changed. Finally, that "JOY" you wish us all seemed to have found its place in YOUR soul. You can see I wish you the best--even writing TWO replies. (I always over-do emails and posts--grin!)
PEACE
S

Virtual friendship and broken promises - A tribute to a dear blogger-friend

The last time I met you, you promised to spend more time with me in December. You also promised that in the December trip you will stay with me. You cruel soul - you broke your promises. Why do you make them when you were to break them!

*****

We meet in the world of blogs and bloggers. We both were relatively new to the whole game of blogging. I saw her blog in one of the blogs I frequented. I casually stopped by. I liked what I saw and read. I started stopping by more often. Then she started noticing me and returned the favour. This was in 2009! From then on, we stopped by each other's blogs and gradually started emailing one another. The mails were usually two or three liners in which we mutually complemented one another's words and thoughts. We were never obliged to visit each other's blogs. I only commented when I had something to say and vice-versa. A bond had been formed.

Then I got married. I sent her an invite. She didn't come but sent me her wishes. Then, she got married. I sent my wishes. Our blog entries became infrequent but we kept in touch. She drifted towards fiction and photography. My visits to her blog were intermittent. She still came over to my blog and logged in her insights. We started chatting through Facebook.

She then gave me the wonderful news of her visit to the city where I lived. We met briefly over some snacks. Her mom and her sister were there with her. We were quite excited and thrilled to finally meet one another. She promised to spend more time with me in December when she planned to visit my place again on a road-trip with her better half. I thought December was quite afar off.

Unexpectedly, I had a chance to stop in her city for a break of journey and she played host along with her parents-in-law, husband and her non-human companion, a Golden Retriever named Rocky. They were lovely people and stumped me with their hospitality. She drove me to the train station. I was glad to have met her the second time and we refreshed our December promise and plan.

But she would never see another December! She broke her promise and along with her husband passed on to another world leaving me with memories of her blog and two meetings. 

I am glad that we did meet each other and exchanged meaningful conversation, if only once. Her sudden passing, though left me shocked and devastated, enabled me to understand the transience of existence. She was a quiet and unassuming person who thought deeply and tenderly. On some mornings, I wake up with thoughts of her and feel quite sad but as I mentioned earlier, I am truly happy that I met her and spent some time with her.

RIP my dear Sameera Kesiraju (1987-2013)

A poem by Sam:

Every evening is a conversation,

Sun’s retiring talk with a dear tree

“I’ll come in the morn looking for you!

I’ll knock on the doors of darkness with a request  

To let my rays caress with love, your gentle leaves

As they swing with joy, with hope, to see another dawn

Waiting for me to bring that dawn to you

I’ll come, but promise, that you will not let...

The black dusk swallow it all up - every time I am gone.”

                                                                          ~Sam

It takes thirty plus three and a few months

Some posts don't allow you to rest. They nag, demand attention, try to hijack the stray vacant minutes until you finally allow yourself to write what it dictates to you. The present post is like that.

                                   ********************************************

Mothers are strange creatures. They seem to have super-human abilities, solutions to the mundane worries that threaten to sabotage the peace of the day, quick-fixes to flush out the extra salt from the food and a zillion other practical stuff. Inspite of doing all this, the smile on the face remains and the facial appointment is never ever skipped. Phew! I never realised all this until I got married. Marriage always turns everything upside-down, opined my friends in the days when I wasn't married. And, like every single woman who takes pride in brushing off nuggets of wisdom that comes with experience, I never was quite interested in tales of being married. But I did listen, out of respect and warmth that comes with friendship.

But the tales, which turned out to be hard core facts hit me hard once I got married. And, when I say hard core facts, I don't mean the 'space' problems that every modern couple like to rave about but the teeny weeny things that often go unnoticed but still have the ability to mar the smooth flowing of the day's rhythms. Like many individuals who read theory and start every argument with abundant dosages of feminist philosophies with an extra dash of attitude, I had my share of mother-bashing and other things which I will refrain from sharing. Today, I realised that my mother is quite practical and sensible when it comes to certain things. And, marriage being something that you learn on the job, nothing can prepare you for it except the marriage itself. No matter how much one reads, listens to experiential stories and watches videos by marriage experts, nothing will tell you about the last minute hassles, niggling doubts about the right way to go about something and other stuff.

I realised that no matter what, I can call my mother and she will have something to say that will make me think, "That's it?" Many times, we look for grand ideas and solutions forgetting that sometimes thinking simple does all the tricks. I never imagined that my mother had done so many things - juggling thoughts, schedules, house and work and other small stuff. I also realise that planning though is hyped over and over can never be executed most of times and one needs to have that small doubt that things can go kaput even with detailed planning. You plan the breakfast, lunch and sundry details for the next day and late at night friends drop in. The plan takes a turn but one has to do quick thinking. Sticking to plans then is absolutely absurd. My mother was doing all these things with elan and finesse. Who taught her? Her mother? I don't think so. She was married off very early. She learnt it on the job - by trial and error.

Now, today, after thirty years plus three and a few months, I come to wonder at the life my mother and most of the mothers live and continue living. The sense of balance, taking care of the family and the self, fixing last minute change of plans and accommodating changes in schedules of our mothers is just amazing. I regret those years when I did not get to know her and think along with her. Now when I run my own home and have my own set of burnt toast mornings, I marvel at the wonder of my mom.

This post is for her.

She might not get to know of this post, maybe she will, but this post is from the innermost depths of my married being :)

A tribute to the passing 20s

This post is special as not often one gets to write something like this. This post is a note of nostalgic praise for a decade long companion: The 20s. Standing on the threshold of a new year, it is with fondness and love that I walk down memory lane. What a companion! You gave me so many things to cherish, love, admonish and introspect.

There were so many people who walked in and stayed; loves that were lost; loves that were nearly lost; betrayals that threatened; educational qualifications that boost the self-esteem; places that enthralled; music that continues to play on; Himalay that made me feel so small and full of awe; gadgets that fail and never fail to keep me connected; books that I have returned to over and over again; books that remain untouched but always make me say to myself:"I will sure read this one day."

Films that struck a chord within me; people who I wish I never meet again; Food that tingled my taste-buds and made me feel like a glutton; events that destroyed 'the' perception of me in my imagination; jealousy; sloth; greed; conversations that lasted a whole night; conversation that never happened in real time but gave pleasure in the mind; moments of sheer bliss; responsibilities; fear; faith; stress; hope; prayers; poems; friends; mentors; family.

The list can go on . . .

Thinking of the decade I can only say: "To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield" (The last line from Tennyson's "Ulysses")