Wayfarer's window!

A glimpse of home...is all I need. Barfi, well, thanks... I was all of sixteen when I left home. The last I remember well is a snowy morning. It had snowed all night and I woke up to a white wonderland. The short excursion outdoors was halted by a large tree that had fallen on the main road. While I could not venture too far in the snow, the visually delightful panorama of the hill town, my home, the Darjeeling of that day, got frozen in my memory. Then came North Bengal, not too far from home, with the hills always in the background. Yet, a different scenic delight! Rice fields, meandering rivers, cycle rickshaws, green swaying fields of harvest and the music of the village plays "the jatras" that resounded well into the night. Next stop, Kolkata: its many little lanes and by lanes, crisscrossing ancient mansions. The city, shrouded in an air of past grandeur and glory, yet weighed down by its innumerable, countless citizens....many falling out of thes...

Describe Darjeeling in the monsoon in three words! It is rain, rain and rain!!! Yet the thick fog that limits your visibility to just several meters, allows you to explore the lands rich variety of flora. I cannot say I am a master of plants but certain plant species evoke strong memories and associations. Like "sisnu" the nettle plan with which I got my first real beating! Incredibly this same nettle plant can be made into a broth-like delicious local dish. Then there is "iskus" or squash of which the tuberous root, the spiky fruit as well as the tender tendrils are eaten as vegetables. The "baas" or the bamboo, is the most versatile of the lot; not only are the tender bamboo shoots a delicacy of their own but also the bamboo cane is used to make every conceivable furniture, utility item and even houses and animal shelters. Finally there is the "dhupi" of the birch. which enhances the skyline with its lovely triangular shape, and the thick br...

Yesterday, I went to my grandmother's room, the same room I stayed in and grew up as a child. The room was and still remains enchanting. The window opens up to scenes of the tea-estates and green hills yonder and often brings in the travelling mist with stories of its own. The ceiling either drums to the incessant dancing of the rain drops or deep in the night, the scurrying footsteps of pigeons and birds that take shelter there. The corridor entraps the sound of the howling wind, which gets inside the room the moment one steps out to explore it! Sometimes, one can listen to the sounds of children playing hide and seek as they shout "ho-ki-key", whatever that means. At other times. the sound of the dirge during the funeral in the cemetery below where the lone figure of Jesus on a cross overlooks the dead in their graves.  Yesterday, my gaze  rested on the tree-line, where the forest suddenly stops to give way to tea-estates and I wondered what happened t...

I have been feeling kind of lonely, may be its the nip in the winter air, it takes me to all the places, for which I really care! The memories of the morning frost, and whitened mountain scape, the gentle swish of the pine trees, are the sights I cannot escape. But, much more to me than all the sights and the feelings in the cold cold air, Are the thoughts of home and family, and the warmth of hearth that was there. The sound of all the children playing, the crackle of the fire as it leaps; the cold winter air never dampened our feelings, as joys was surrounding in heaps. Tonight, at home they must all be sleeping, our rooms and corridoors must be cold; For we have all moved away from our haven, And what remains, are our memories of gold!

This space had a different post earlier, until I heard this song by Sarah Groves. She aptly describes this strange feeling that I too get sometimes. A feeling of restlessness yet sometimes a feeling of unusual peace and certainty. The other day, I was requested to conduct a memorial service of a young girl who had died in an accident. The service began with an air of loss and uncertainty and a feeling of something that had gone immensely wrong. But, as we started looking at the words of assurance of our our final home...and started affirming our faith in this fact...and the price that Jesus had paid so that we might not perish...the feeling within the room changed to that of peace and hope. A hope of life beyond...a hope that we will meet again and most importantly, Jesus has prepared an everlasting place for peace and rest after our journeys here. Here's the lyrics to Sarah's song: Going Home "Inspired by that intense longing for another place" I've been ...

My heart, stuck by a pin on the mountainscape... my mind, drifts in search of your incessant fog..... my eyes, yearn for the rolling blue hills.. and my skin, waits for your frosty touch... my Queen, my Home, my Darjeeling!!