Writing Again ( by Sanghamitra Nath)

Dear Friends,

I am writing again, after a long long time. The last time I wrote was 5 months back and before that, 3 Years back.

Sometimes, I wonder why I don't write as much as I used to even though I love to write so much !  Maybe, one of the reasons is that I have lost the connection that I used to have with my own self. Or that for a long long time, I have forgotten what it means to have a sense of self.

Today, some of my old Blogger friends were discussing about the lost art of writing and blogging. Their conversation has motivated me to write again. So, after a long gap, I am writing again.

Writers like me live in a highly abstract world- a world which cannot be understood by many and sometimes, if you begin to describe it, they may call you weird or strange. So, it is best to put down my thoughts in writing (to self ) rather than speaking ( to others). It is very essential for abstract people like writers to express their thoughts and in the absence of many people not understanding us, we have to get it out of our system not by trying to explain to people by speaking out but by writing out in a journal or a blogging platform. Of course, we are speaking to an audience but that is later. First, we are speaking to ourselves. We are putting ourselves in front of the world but before that, we are "coming out"of our shells in which we have been hiding for so long. This is a sign of establishing or asserting our identity.
Writers write about what is important for them.What they have known for so long. What they love. What they want. What they hope. What keeps them going. The conversations that they have with themselves. What they want to release or surrender.
And these conversations can be sometimes very long, absurd and abstract for the readers but not for the writers. For them, writing is life itself.

Anyways, I am already feeling so good for being finally able to write after a long long time. So much has happened over these years. I did not even document these incidents and events in my writing. But that is not necessary. I am not saying that analyzing or keeping record of our lives is not necessary but what is perhaps more necessary is our connection with our self even after all these years and not getting lost in the events that overpowered us.

I think I have said enough for today. I hope to keep writing in this space as frequently as possible.

Ghost from the past ( by Sanghamitra Nath)

 

My association with my grandparents was for a very brief period of time as they left this world before I could grow up to tell  ALL of their stories. All I remember about those days is specifically about my grandfather who was very gentle, humble and used to give us his childhood books to read. He was very quiet almost in a mystical way. Since we lived far away from both our grandparents, we used to visit them only once a year that too for a few days and all that came to an end very quickly as they passed away too soon. 

My childhood days were  painted by the colorful antics of my elderly aunt. She  replayed the role of  my  beloved grandparents-in fact, she in a way  carried their legacy. I remember about my grandma's house, in which my aunt used to live after grandma's death...I recall the deep brown ceramic mugs (now lost forever, don't know where they are...), the deep green wooden reading/ writing  table , the colors started peeling off much before I could even begin to describe how it looks like...and of course the embroidered cushion covers, the crochet work...the backyard garden with lemon plants, big trees bearing local fruits...and the "family well".   The well from which we used to draw water...for bathing,  cooking, washing etc. etc. as there was no other source of water in those times... ( The well is called  "Kua" in our native language)

In that house, the smell that lingered  was that of the raw green mango pickles in bottles filled with mustard oil left for drying in the sun.

My aunt was influenced by Mahatma Gandhi and used to quote him often.

So many years have passed by since then...now our entire family has changed...they no longer follow the quotes of Mahatma Gandhi. Perhaps, with the death of my grandpa, grandma and now, with  the days remaining in the lives of my ailing aunty, an era has come to an end, an era that signified innocence and simplicity, truth and love.

An End of Innocence, perhaps.

I am not sure whether we can give as much love as they gave  or go through as much hardships as they went through...maybe it is simply not in us or is it because we have become too harsh with the changing times while dealing with life's brutalities ?

I do not know yet I know this much that an entire lifetime of memories will still linger in my mind....perhaps these memories, this attempt of looking into the past will force me to embrace that old, simple life into the folds of my new life until I feel satisfied that I have done enough.

Perhaps nobody will listen to the echoes of the ghosts from the past but they are still there if we care to listen ...so much love and wisdom is buried in these memories, if we care to find.