Legacy made new!!

It was quite an exhilarating day for visit to the New Parliament House with our friends last week. A truly memorable and educational tour.

On the occasion of 75th year of Independence, Modiji unveiled the new building.  Designed and constructed by Indians, it indeed is an architectural marvel encapsulating the culture, pride, and spirit of the entire nation and looks forward to fulfilling the longstanding need of Indian democracy to have more spacious parliament.

The Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha chambers boast a digitised voting system, well-engineered acoustics, and state-of-the-art audiovisual systems. The Lok Sabha hall’s interior, inspired by India's national bird, the peacock, and the Rajya Sabha hall, representing the lotus, India's national flower, embody the rich symbolism of the nation. It also seamlessly integrates diversity of modern India - the Sangeet Gallery and the Shilp Gallery showcases distinct music, architecture and handicraft traditions of different states.

He also inaugurated and placed ‘Sengol’, a golden sceptre near the Speaker’s seat in the new Lok Sabha hall. It is known to be crafted by Vummidi Bangaru Chetty, a famous jeweller in Madras with Nandi, at the top as the beholder of “Nyaya".

The Sengol is derived from the Tamil word "Semmai" which means "Righteousness" and was carried by emperors during ceremonial occasions to represent their authority in Chola empire from the 9th to 13th century. It was a tradition to hand over from one king to another as a mark of succession and legitimacy. The same ritual was adopted at the time of Independence to symbolise transfer of power from British.

The Sengol was presented to PM Nehru by Thiruvavaduthurai Adheenam (a 500-year-old Saivaite monastery) on August 14, 1947 which was kept it at his residence in Delhi for some time before donating it to Anand Bhavan Museum in Allahabad (Prayagraj) until the government decided to revive this historical event in the new Parliament building.

The existing Parliament on the other hand , a Heritage building, built in 1927, embodies excellence in architectural style designed by Sir Edwin Lutyens and Sir Herbert Baker during British colonial rule. 

However, the building's age and limited infrastructure no longer meet the current requirements in terms of space, amenities, and technology and was never designed to accommodate a bicameral legislature for a fully-fledged democracy. So, the time's tide demands a new temple of democracy. 

Lots of things changed since a century ago-  communication structures and safety benchmarks, topographical considerations, prioritizing divyang individuals  and lifestyle conveniences.

And so with the torch of progress shining bright, we decided to adieu to the venerable old Parliament building, a witness to India's tumultuous past and hard-won freedom. However, when i entered this old structure, I could feel the weight of history, the echoes of impassioned debates, and the whispers of late-night negotiations that shaped our nation's destiny. The walls, worn by time, seemed to yearn to break free from their stoic silence, to share the tales of the giants who once walked those hallowed halls.

It reminded me of how India's story would have been woven into every stone, every crevice, and every worn step. The small hall, once the epicenter of power and decision-making, seemed to hold its breath while we found it so easy to move on, to leave behind the nostalgia and the legacy on the pretext of thee pace of modern life. Did not seem fair.

A sight of relief was the brass ceiling in the heart of the new building, that shone like a celestial canvas, capturing the essence of the sky of a momentous day – January 26, 1950- the day our constitution came into being. Below this was a majestic pendulum swinging like a time keepers Waltz, a symphony of time and tradition. Seemed like it whispered secrets to the past, present, and future, bridging eras with every rhythimic swing. It took more than 24 hours to complete a circle. While it rotated, it defied the constraints of time hinting that progress is a dance between heritage and innovation. May be! 

As the sands of time slip through the hourglass, the question lingers: Can we hold on to the essence of our heritage while embracing tomorrow's dawn? Isnt it true that in our haste, do we risk losing the fragrance of our roots in pursuit of progress? Only time will tell.

Unrolling the Thangka

 

PC- Ananya & Suhaani

The great escape! We ditched Mcleodganj's chaos for Kandbari's chill vibes and landed at Dr. Sarika's place –stumbling upon a treasure trove of Thangka art I would say! Upasna from Wah Lodge played the matchmaker, introducing us to this hidden gem. Now, we were trading mobile phones for paintbrushes and soaking up the serene vibes.This museum was a window to the 2,300 years old journey of the tradition of Buddhist paintings and the evolution of art through ages and geographies.

Dr Sarika honed her skills at Norbulingka Institute in Dharamshala and created the Museum with 45 Masterpiece Paintings depicting this journey of Buddhist Paintings after a deep research of the Ancient Styles of Ajanta Caves, Tabo and Alchi Monastery.


At the workshop sitting amidst mountains, we discovered the ancient art of painting on handmade cloth with mineral colours and learnt the timeless techniques. For the first time I used the divider – a simple tool that revealed the precision of perfection, while I drew the serene face of Buddha, circle by gentle circle. In that meditative moment, I was with the divine,  but ofcourse with my paint stained fingers.

However, what got my attention was the Thangka of Dharamsala Tara announcing the Arrival of this art to the Indian Soil. The painting depicting story of Tara's return appeared like of mystique and longing.

I was so enamoured with the thought how, lost to the sands of time, it found its way back to home, though with a new Tibetan name " Thangka" which literally means "thing that one unrolls". Teachings of Gautam Buddha, unrolled through Dalai Lama rekindling a connection that transcended borders, seeking to reclaim its cultural legacy. Talk about packing light, I hear that all that Dalai lama carried on his shoulders while seeking asssylum in India was a thangka of Palden Lhamo. By carrying this sacred artwork, may be he was also seeking guidance and blessings on his own spiritual journey, I wondered.

Hmmm..believe it or not I was compelled to ponder. Life's a wild goose chase, isn't it? We're running, striving, pushing – trying to reach that elusive 'somewhere.' But in the chaos, do we forget the cosmic GPS that's always on? Are we over-riding the divine's navigation system with our own flawed maps? The Bhagavad Gita whispers secrets of surrender, of being grounded in faith, and trusting the universe's blueprint. Maybe it's time to pause, and let the divine take the wheel. After all, who needs Google Maps when you have karma's guiding light?"

Dents in History!

   

PC- Ananya Saraogi 

As we wandered to McLeodganj, while visiting the “Siddh Peeths” of Himachal, we happened to stay at Pragpur's hidden gem - a declared heritage since 1997. This enchanting manor, once Justice Sir Jai Lal's private retreat, now a heritage hotel, whispers tales of the past. Built between 1914, its Indo-European architecture mesmerizes, with red brick detailing adorning yellow structures.

We had a long tiring day after exploring Plaksha University at Chandigarh in our drive to find just the right college for Ananya (not that we were successful.Lolz); here at Paragpur, we were welcomed by tan mud walls adorned with blue doors into a residency with vintage portraits by the fireplace of the family. 

Early in the morning, strolling through the quaint rustic ambience, time was like still. A majestic mango tree, gifted by the Maharaja of Benaras, blooming majestically; jackfruits gently grasping the tree’s bark, jungle babbler’s morning concert arguing with the sun’s warmth and how the black and white bird posed like surrendering its every profile to my lens. 

The floral whispers on chairs and table ware with soothing sound of acoustic piano that Suhaani took the liberty to indulge into blended together to create an irresistibly charming symphony in the dining room. Fresh lychees tantalized the taste buds at breakfast, while authentic Himachali dal makhani delighted the senses.

Under the camphor tree's gentle shade, wind chimes serenaded, as Ananya captured the moment's essence in her art book, while Gagan explored ancient valleys on the map, Suhaani focussed on capturing every detail in her DSLR frame, and Pallavi weaved a soothing melody, I sat down here bottling it up in a few words. As we all basked in, the fast-paced din faded away.

As I was checking out, I noticed a brass tag on the wooden fireplace in my room that read "Handcrafted in 1917," with a dent on the wooden piece. The scar added character to the vintage corner like it was deliberately preserved as a testament to history. Loved it. Is it not a reminder that imperfections are a part of our authentic selves; that life’s imperfections are brushstrokes that paint our canvas. And not all dents need to be mended, for in their depths, we find the wisdom of experience, courage of resilience and without them we would only be fragile, untampered steel. Instead, we are our own kind of master pieces stronger and wiser now.

कितना मीठा सा शब्द है नानी

 कितना मीठा  सा  शब्द  है नानी 

माँ की माँ होती है  नानी 

नानी  के  किरदारों  से  बुनी  हुई  कहानी 

पता  नहीं  कैसे  याद  रहती  थी  उनको  मुँह  जुबानी I

मम्मी की डाँट पर हमसे ज़्यादा ध्यान

चुप करादे उनको खींच के उनके कान

घर में घुसते ही तैयार रहता खाने का सामान 

चेहरा देखकर तबियत का लगा लेती अनुमान I

आती सूरजगढ़ की बहुत बहुत याद 

ताज़ा है सारी बातें इतने दिनों के भी बाद

नानी की पहली रोटी बनती गऊ माता का प्रसाद

सुबह उठकर पहले सूरज की घंटी और पूजा पाठ I

अँधेरे में cosy सी कोठरी थी खास,

न समझ आया उसमे नानी  की तिजोरी का राज़

बिल्ली को रोटी और ख़तम करके  घर के काम काज

नानी रहती lantern जलाये, गोंद के लड्डू के साथ I

बगल में थी रसोई, चूल्हे की रोटी क्या कमाल!!!

और कोयले पे सिलगती देगची की दाल

रात को छत पे हमारे लिए माचा डाल 

लपेटती हम बच्चो को ले लोई और शॉल I

राजा की तरह हमे सर पे चढ़ाना

नज़र से बचाने के लिए झाड़ा लगवाना

मिटटी से बीड़ में छोटे छोटे घर बनाना

फिर अपने पैरो से रेत को छुड़ाना I

हर त्यौहार पर सुन्दर सी मेहँदी लगवाना

नानाजी की दुकान पे 1 रुपया रोज़ लेने जाना

पित्रों के नाम से पैंडे में पानी चढ़ाना

“नानी घर आकर बिगड़ के बारा बाँट के हो गए”

ये सुन मम्मी की डाँट खाना I

याद आता है आपका मामा को आँख दिखाना

हमे परेशान करने पर उनको धमकाना

आपका वो हमे कोने में ले जाकर समझाना 

की ये बात घर जाकर दादी को मत बताना I

ये मत कहना की पानी handpump से लाये थे

Light न होने पर हाथ वाले पंखे चलाये थे 

ये भी न बताना की कहाँ कहाँ चोट खायी थी

और नानी ने कब कब कुल्फी नहीं खिलाई थी I

सच बोलू नानी सबसे प्यारी आपकी परछाई थी

तारों के नीचे AC तो नहीं था पर नींद बहुत अच्छी आयी थी

आपसे सही मायने में सादगी सिखाई थी

किताबो से बेहतर आपके संस्कारो की पढ़ाई थी

बचपन का सबसे प्यारा हिस्सा होता है  ननिहाल 

कुछ  special ही  होती  है  देखभाल 

जब  भी  मामा मामी को  करती कॉल 

कब  आओगी  बेटा सूरत  , यही  रहता  है  सवाल ?

In a world where you can be anything, Be Kind!!!!

In the twilight of innocence, my daughter's tender self happened to encounter the enigma of unrequited kindness that met with the harsh kiss of indifference. She came home quite low. She felt underappreciated and over-criticized for her sweet nature, unfortunately, becoming a scapegoat, unfairly scrutinized. Knowing how sensitive she can be, I understood how she felt.

But I didn’t know how to comfort her. I often struggle to distinguish what's truly important, and honestly it's even harder to teach my kids.

My question was- Shall I awaken her to the cruel whispers of reality, or let her heart continue its subtle waltz with idealism, of being kind, of being compassionate? Afterall, don’t we all agree that no one ever truly learns to love without first embracing the fragility of disappointment. In this delicate balance, I ponder.  Is it not in the giving, rather than the receiving, that we find the truest expressions?

Frankly, my instincts urge me to teach them the value of empathy, to rush to the aid of those in need, and to soothe the hurt. I'm on a daily mission to drill some compassion into their heads, lest they join the #SelfLoveSquad and forget that other humans exist. Don't get me wrong, self-love is cool and all, but not when it turns into 'Self-Love-And-Forget-Everyone-Else!"

And yet, how do we protect our lil ones from the jagged edges of a world that often refuses to reciprocate? Whether I like it or not I have also learnt that unchecked kindness can invite disrespect. The world can be unforgiving.

 As their mother, I want to empower them with the wisdom to discern when thoughtfulness is valued and when it's exploited. Kindness and friendliness, though essential, has to be be tempered with assertiveness. Boundaries, not barriers are important for the world to know that one’s worth isn't measured by their accommodating nature, but by their self-respect.

Perhaps the answer lies not in shielding her from life's turbulent sea, but in teaching her to navigate its depths with courage, resilience, and an unwavering commitment to her own inner light- to grapple with the delicate balance between kindness and firmness. I will tell her that even today when I'm uncertain, I draw inspiration from my fathers, who consistently give selflessly despite facing criticism and receiving little appreciation. Their unwavering optimism and resilience keeps me believing that grace is the way to life.

As Maya Angelou once said, 'Do the best you can until you know better. Then, when you know better, do better.' So, keep doing better my baby in every step of your way and in a world where you can be anything, Be Kind!!!!

  

Hot Air and Fairy Flair

 

Back in the Roman and Byzantine eras, Cappadocia was a secret sanctuary for Christians who built intricate underground cities. Fast forward to today, and it feels like stepping into a lunar wonderland with its fairy tale-like soft rock formations scattered across the Anatolian plains.

Our stay at the Stones Palace hotel in Göreme was like living in a honey-colored village dotted with quirky cave hotels. One evening, we ventured to Uchisar Castle, which, despite its small size compared to grand palaces in Delhi, Agra, and Mysore, was charming in its own right. Perched atop a cliff, this volcanic rock castle had once served as a fortress against invaders.

A sandstorm made strolling around a challenge, but soon enough, lightning strikes illuminated the sky (a rare sight compared to Delhi) and were followed by a refreshing downpour, setting the mood for our first day of adventures!

The next day, our guide Salman led us on a bus tour of the Göreme Open Air Museum, a UNESCO World Heritage site renowned for its stunning biblical frescoes. We then ventured to Avanos, famous for its distinctive pottery. Each piece had its own unique flaws, adding to its charm. Watching Ananya and Suhaani try their hand at crafting pottery under skilled artisans was both educational and entertaining, offering a glimpse into a craft passed down through generations.

The local tradition of adorning trees with evil eyes, lock and keys served as a poignant reminder of our own traditions of tying nazar battos, and red mauli  showing how diverse faiths share common threads.

Towards the end of our day trip, we drove around Ihlara Valley for a closer view of Mount Hassan. The real magic, however, happened at a Turkish dhaba where the lady was whipping up parathas the size of a small moon—two feet wide! Watching and helping her roll those giant golden discs was like witnessing culinary wizardry. Biting into what we thought were pancakes but turned out to be aloo parathas felt like a delicious homecoming. It was as if my taste buds were doing a happy dance, shouting, “Welcome to the desi party!” in the middle of a Turkish wonderland.

In the evening, we were buzzing with excitement for our nearly two-hour ATV adventure. But guess what? Ananya and I could barely get our ATV out of the starting position! We were third in line, hoping to cruise through stunning valley views, but ended up as the slowest tortoises in a herd of speedy hares. Everyone zoomed past us like we were standing still, and we chugged along in last place, feeling like the universe was having a laugh at our expense.

Navigating through Love Valley, Rose Valley, and Sword Valley, we got up close to those fairy chimneys—huge rock formations that looked like nature’s own abstract art project. Dusted from head to toe, with dirt invading my eyes and nose, I kept my cool, pretending I was a seasoned ATV pro while inwardly panicking.

Striking my best “cool rider” poses for photos, swaying forward like a model on a runway, I was more of a ‘wobble on wheels’ kind of girl. As the day ended, we watched the sunset at Rose Valley—a glorious view with a cool breeze painting the sky crimson. It was the perfect way to bid farewell to the day, hoping that the morning would bring a hot air balloon ride that was, hopefully, less of a comedy show and more of a smooth, soaring adventure.

 

Little did we know, we were in for a hilariously bumpy adventure the next morning too! Hot air ballooning at dawn? More like at 3 a.m.! We were all pumped up, especially since the previous ride had been scrapped due to a sandstorm and bad weather. The driver showed up right on time, but of course, we were fashionably late. He practically dragged us out of the hotel, threatening to leave us behind. But we managed to pile into the vehicle for the hour-long drive to Soganli Valley, ready to take to the skies.

Hot air balloons seemed awesome—until they told us we had to jump into the baskets. I’m pretty sporty, but tripping on a flat surface is my specialty. Now, they wanted me to jump into a balloon basket with moms and dads? Hilarious!

With a lot of help (and a little bit of grace), we finally soared high above the valley just in time to catch the sunrise. The bird’s-eye view of Cappadocia and Mt. Erciyes, a snow-capped volcanic mountain, was stunning. Landing, however, was its own comedy sketch. We had to squat like we were preparing for an alien invasion, not just touching down in a field. It felt like we were rescued and delivered back to the hotel in one piece.

This hot air balloon ride wasn’t just an adventure through the skies but a metaphor for life’s journey. As we floated gently through the sky, it reminded us to slow down, appreciate each moment, and move with grace. The calmness of the ride taught us to trust the journey and enjoy the view, knowing that even if things seem uncertain, we'll eventually reach our goals- nudging us to slow down, be present, and glide gracefully, savouring each moment while trusting we’ll reach our destinations in due time.

Dialogue in the Dark

Dialogue in the Dark" was like taking a walk on the wild side of your senses. Imagine strolling through a place where even our sense of sight is on vacation! The only relief was that we had our friendly guides Nasir, Jeetendra, Pawan and Diwan and we knew we would get all the help we needed. So here we were, with your eyes wide shut off on an adventure through a world that was was dark as a black hole's backyard.

I won't say it was not a challenge for me. Dark is not my comfort zone. This event was designed not only to challenge ourselves to get out of our comforts but also as most of us would agree , it changed the way each of us perceived the world around us.

Here's a description of what typically happened. In complete absence of light, we had no choice but to rely on our other senses - touch, hearing, smell, and taste - to understand and navigate through the tunnel and further on to our tables. I was relying mostly on my teammate's four senses than mine as I tightly clutched on to her shoulder. 

You know those awkward moments when you're trying to find your way, arms flailing like a malfunctioning robot, and suddenly you encounter another lost soul doing the same goofy dance? It was indeed a spontaneous tango of confusion until our knowledgeable experts helped us settle on our seats.  

Immediately, we started to complete tasks using non-visual methods with absolute no cheating and coordinated teamwork- coordinated?? No cheating??? - we rather not discuss. We all would agree that ears were the superheroes now, working overtime to pick up every sound. We were asked to describe objects like it was a charades without the luxury of visual cues. The laughter began as our imaginative descriptions got more and more absurd. " ye aisa shape Hai jisko hum waise lagate hai" a newfound appreciation for the power of words in a world without sight. Who knew this could be so much fun?

Next, we all became scent detectives very confident of our aesthetics that we would surely crack this one with ease. What we ended up doing actually was only creative aroma analogy knowing in our hearts that we were left with a nose that's had a workout- a futile one though. And so, towards the last bit, the taste-test comedy continued, with a huge vaierty of savouries laid out in front of us. Each description more over-the-top than the last. 

And guess what? We all left with a fresh perspective, an appreciation for the world in a new light (or lack thereof), and a story to tell that starts with, "So, I once had dinner in the dark..."

It was like our senses were throwing a surprise party, and we were the guests of honor. We emerged from the dark with a newfound awareness that our friendly guides pro at handling troublesome 50 of us were visually impaired and as capable, resilient, and full of life as anyone else...or maybe more, a life with more meaning than vegging out in front of a screen and a life that values everything like a gift. 

My takeaway? A lot of patience, gratitude, value of clear communication and helping when needed, without being condescending and most importantly a break from visual stimulation.