Sunday, May 31, 2015

One wrong switch





Her  blood boiled with ego
Curses to world poured out
Her blaming fingers pointing at others
Yelled why sin filled earth 
No mark of joy made in life
A trail of hatred left behind
Soaked in myth that earth was a bad place to live
She worried and complained for ever
Her point going futile
Unless she realized
That it was a wrong switch
One switch to get  her right
Before she blamed the rest!!




Beauty of simplicity

Image Source:Google

a naked neck over her diamond necklace
old pajama over gorgeously laced  satin designer costume
a moment in her garden over the bashes at pub
plain toast over an elaborate dine at a seven starter
breeze and her loose hair sway in unison
gadgets switched off
away from the  thronging crowd
smell of pages from her favorite book
her face in her own shade
petrichor to fill her senses
watching rain impinge upon the earth
her ultra- quiet mind
a hearty smile 
no forced poses
Anamika stood care free
how much she missed being and feeling herself  
a self-nod, a thought in her mind
'simple was super'



PS : 'Anamika' means  'nameless' in hindi language



#LearnToBeCreative#


Amma, I am feeling under weather , I have sudden craving for veggie pepper soup you make for me.I miss that ma”. I said on phone ,meaning every word coated with love I shared with my mom.

Darling that is super quick and easy . I will help you with the recipe .why don't you make it as I guide you on phone. It should not take more than 20 mins “a concerned voice of my mom , a song to my ears.

Elated with the idea I jumped out of my couch like a popcorn out of micro oven . In few strides I was in front of  my favorite black refrigerator to check if It contained ingredients to go into the soup. Tell me I rushed in with curiosity.

Cabbage, carrots, beans, some green peas , garlic.. She went on. I mentally made a check mark after   the dictation over phone. 

In low voice, I heard something I hate the most on earth. The sight of it the taste of it. Anything related to it and it's colour. The Eggplant. My jaw dropped a mile.

You heard it right that's what made your soup yummy all these years”  Mom smirked.

She had just then  revealing her much kept secret recipe to her heiress of food over years. After all a mother like any would want her daughter to be  hale and healthy and would make sure every veggie made way into my tummy for the essential nutrients they contained.I had eaten the soup a million times with all my heart and without knowing what went into it.

 I chose  to eliminate eggplant in my soup that day and followed my mothers instructions to treat my sour throat . Creativity in cooking is what I recalled when I chose to write this post.

She had  creativity in everything she did. She learnt it in her way . With all interest. Interest is what provokes the process of creativity . Her quench for learning never seems to be satiable. She doesn't forget to check the recipe of the dishes she will get to taste in her friend’s house. With a titch of  creativity to their recipe she comes up with better food at our desk . All she wants is her family enjoying a healthy plate of food. It sure is a treat to our taste buds you see. 

Her creativity span from decorating the house to designing her own jewels. Her husband being a goldsmith, a privilege she had was worth a take. Organising the things at home? Talk about it. Everything at home had fixed places just like the we have door number and house address. Disorder caused irritation to her . She called the practice disciple of our living place. We respected it and followed .

She was a like an ayurvedic doctor of the family . No she didn’t study any medicine. That came to her from experience and constant learning. She knew what to mix with tulsi with exact amount to cure dry cough . She knew what worked best for pimple on face or to remove tan .Her expertise in home remedy for what ever ailments was a family treasure. Health was better than wealth when it came to her. She learnt to be creative in her own way irrespective of her age she never fell short in her interest. 

Today as I am a woman of a family of two, me and my husband I am proud to have inherited her traits and I am appreciated for using my tools of creativity in cooking, managing my finances, organising things at home and making home a peaceful and severe place to dwell in . Not a house but a t home. It takes a lot to call it so. Both physical and emotional elements involved.

 I am proud her. She is my angel and my inspiration. As we sip our evening tea, we discuss our new creativity projects at home, complement each other mutually and soak in our family pride. She is the approver of the designs I chose for dress or jewels. I loved her choice. I rejoiced her involvement in shopping my stuff. We learn to be creative. Admiring each other’s idea. What a moment :) 

As I finish this post I have an urge to go hug my lady power with all my gratitude for sowing a  seed in my mind and inspiring me to learn-to-be-creative. * wink* !!

Cheers,






Saturday, May 30, 2015

Stars above me



They adore the dark sky
Some Shining with all glow and  charisma
Some Like a shy bride behind veil of clouds
No one can count them right
Stars we call them
Moon rules the troop
Just like a king of vast kingdom
Every star is a story
I believed we become stars after death
Night sky watch hypnotized
For those I lost for ever in my family
I missed them 
And watch from millions of mile below 
I blew a kiss and throw my arms in air to hug them
For those who watched me from above 
Reminds 
Death is not an end to life
Memories they call to relive 
Life after death

Linking it up with # Day 3 of Write tribe festival

Love, 

Fear blocks Creativity


Image source:Google

Fear is an absolute blocker to one’s creativity. Be it fear of imperfection or failure. Just like any individual, I have suffered an ample number of fears in my journey called life. One such painful fear that had shattered my creativity until few days before was ‘To Write’.

Writing always fascinated me. From a very young age, I loved to play around with words forming sentences, getting them grammatically right ,weaving small stories out of it and treasuring them in my secret dairy. I hid it under my  bed always. I loved my dairy more than any friend. Infact, my dairy is my first love. With love, came possessiveness. Yes, I would hate anybody touching it even by mistake .I called it a ‘A piece of my heart’. My version as it is. I remained honest to it.I wrote in all circumstances. About everything that mattered to me, about every topic I cared about or hated it the most. Basically ,good bad and everything in between.

I wrote in all moods and at any given time of the day. I randomly chose topics like happiness, frustration, love, life, loneliness, relationship, parents, studies what not. Sounds good till now? .I wanted to write and I wrote so you can ask me  what more I wanted?. Indeed, I suffer a lot of fear to write, thinking what others might mock at how I felt, about my imperfection in my language. I would not say that my feelings were for display and publicity but I was haunted by fear from sharing it with others. I wanted to write more. But I did not. A hoard of topics and thoughts rose their voice in my mind and died out without any notice. Few works made their way until my dairy pages and were left orphaned half the way. Fear killed my creativity.

Overtime, writing was no longer my hobby. My passion was dying out, slowly, crumbling under the fierce feet of fear. Fear of failure. Fear of not writing like other successful people did. I regretted it a lot and curse myself to death but fear had its upper hand versus my creativity. And I did not like the game.

One fine evening , I held some ginger tea in hand and stood leaning against  the door which opened to the backyard, a million thoughts were crossing my mind in bizarre fashion. I was undergoing few employment issues of late and was entrapped in a vicious circles of worry. I felt alone. Alone ,under sun. Future was blocked with fog of fear. I looked lost. I heard somebody screaming to rescue me. She looked familiar. Someone close to my heart. Old, tired and empathetic though. She offered her hands for help. My dairy. Much trusted friend. I dusted her gently  from the window pane. Tears helped her shine like before. Her fragrance filled my senses. As I flipped over the pages ,I recalled how much I missed writing. My scribbled emotions,my adocity with generous dose of stupidity and vent out all she hug with patience,embraced me as me.What a silent listener she was and how well she helped me heal.

I had hit  the rewind button of my life for a while . As I read through, my face adorn with smile after a long time. That moment, I felt it like a luxury to rejoice and pride to soak in. Those words remind me of how strong I remained to fight the awful battles in the past or how a little poetess in me had rhymed those simple lines to celebrate small victories  .The writing was impromptu yet strong.

I relived those moments.

Fear had killed my creativity .A ruthless self-critic in me had further tore the corpse into pieces.

How much I had missed my dairyLL

Then a fresh thought stuck. I wanted to start a blog . A much procastinated task from years though. I read many blogs but didnot dare to own one.so what do it call it? I had Life, I had to live, I was undergoing superlative of craziness. I combined all above pieces to form ...


I named it ‘Whispers of Hope’. Felt much apt to my mood.

I felt some strength filling my nerves. I realised  I had mustered courage over time. I had figured out how crawling out of fear zone with all might can help one succeed.

Much to my mood, the dark clouds just like my fear had subsided and the sky shone pristine clear with some rays of hope.

And thus …

The journey began. 

Again.

 In a new form.

I fell in love again.


With my creative cap on.

 Fearless this time.

Cheers,




Thursday, May 28, 2015

My Silent feelings

Image source: google

When I open my eyes for a new day,
I see you next to me wishing me 'Good Morning'.

When I stand in front of a mirror to dress  hair,
I feel your hands moving through my  curls.

When I walk alone in my way,
I see your footprints on the shore next to mine.

When I listen to my favourite song,
I hear you humming the tune in my ears.

When I dine alone at the table ,
I feel your tender hands feeding me with Love.

When I sit in solitude engulfed in grief,
I find your comforting hands around my waist.

When I helplessly reduce to  tear in a corner,
I chose to talk to you and relive the days we spent together

When I slide into my bed in my dark room,
I drop in your arms to feel your breathe on my forehead.

I still cannot accept  that you are no more with me, 
But I live with you every single moment.

I feel your  presence everywhere in silence,  
My lips of heart never stop saying 'I Love you'.





A Creative mess in my mind !


Image source: google

Creativity is intelligence having fun- Albert Einstein
Creativity sets one free. Creativity is not invention, its a discovery. It's all around us, within us. It's an spice of life to blend with anything around us to make things interesting.In the eyes of creativity the whole perspective of the thought changes,magically. Creativity is a hidden element in everything strewn around us. It is not restricted to art forms. Not just limited to writing, dance, painting or even marketing. It's in everything. Everywhere.

My dad is always proud of me being creative. Over a evening tea in our balcony ( tea- time, the best time with family!) he reminisces and teases me how I went on and on weaving instant stories and required a reminder to put an end some point. I can imagine how much a chatter box I was.

My much celebrated brother is 7 years younger to me. When he was around 5 years (always little in my eyes though :) ) I enjoyed feeding him. I told him bizarre stories that connected a king, a goon, a tiger, a snake and what not. Yes, my stories  had many characters and I had a thing to say about of them - pun intended .I didn’t stop until he finished the food. I recall how my mother laughed inside her and was proud of me for taking some responsibility in the family even as a kid and the love we shared mutually as siblings. Even today we laugh at those moments and relive them.
As a child, I went to classical dance classes even   before I enrolled to school. I had an element of interest for dance and painting. Writing was also in the list. At a school level, it was limited to essays when it came to words and writing.Pick and speak or debate were the options when  it came to speaking to the crowd. Poetry was probably a high school thingie.
A sense of pride strikes when I take a parade on my memory lane to recall how my School principal had faith in me and nominated me for every inter-school competition, especially essays and debates. Actually, anything related to being creative .In those days, deciding our dance costumes and respective accessories without digging out too much into our parents pockets, coming up with points to debate for a topic and narrating them in my style were nothing but being creative .
Since I loved dancing from a very young age, i had participated and emerged as a winner in a huge number of contests. choreographing my own moves to the film songs unlike imitating the same ,showed creative-me to the small world I dwelt in.
Today, as I call myself a big girl my creativity have taken various other forms . At work, it spans from being able to multitask, to solving issues in my own style or probably a creative reason to request for a leave (Yes, that's quite a thing to convince). At home, it involves manipulating recipes in my style with the ingredients available at my reach without compromise on the  yummy taste, planning my house interiors, my painting strokes in the wall of our living room, organizing my things in a way I like to in my closet, and much more have always enjoyed my creative touch.
Creativity just like happiness comes in small packets too. Day in and day out we come across them . Mostly in simplest forms. All they need is a little bit of notice.
Like...
  • The fruits arranged in the cart by the fruit seller on the roadside.
  • Presentation of the food in a restaurant ( Food!! my senses soothe and my mouth water as i hear the word:P)
  • A saree print on a silk sareethat my mother could not resist buying .
  • Remake of a old joke or SMS in one's own words to suit the scene or a situation
  • A Love letter .Quite a lot of creativity when it comes Love you see * wink*!.
  • Arranging the right flowers, matching the right combination of colours in a bouquet.
  • A kids tooth brush design with the trending cartoon characters

As I passed by a graveyard, I laughed my lungs out when the epitaph in the tombstones had some of the funny lines ever . I might have looked ridiculous and mean doing that but you tell me after you read them .
Here are some :
" The definite guide to underground humour "
" she finally shut up"
" Jokes over. Let me reset connection by peer "
" He was a good father, perfect husband but a bad electrician"
I mean death and humour. How creative!! . They probably made the right choice of healing their painful hearts with some laughter. That is what I call the essence of creativity .
OMG ! Before I forget the TV advertisements let me mention them. While I find most of them stupid and not even close to the commodity campaigned, some are really funny and creative and seal the message.

Few creative bits are here ( Image source:Google)






The list never ends :-P

While as much as creativity is appreciated it is banned at times . Not everytime we can adhere to the norms of the society you see. It might require us to cross some barriers and break some rules.But hurting other's sentiments and belief system can go to intolerable extents.Movies being the apt example for the above. To those , which kindles the sentiments misusing thier creative ideas, A big NO-NO.

I conquer to the fact creativity is powerful and contagious.A trait in all of us in one way or the other, pertaining to any aspect not in particular. Unless, discovered and  implemented. Otherwise, life is bland and mundane. Who would like it that way? None . Right?

So what are we waiting for? Pull up your sleeves, put your creative caps on and start adding spice to Life. To inspire oneself and others. In your own way .In your style. *wink**wink*!!




Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Homeless and hopeless




She stood alone in the rain under an umbrella that she carried . It was dark in the night and she was clueless where to go. When her body drentched in the waters outside, her soul swam in the tears inside. Her helpless eyes looked around to see if she found any familiar faces around but she failed in vain. At the age of 50, all she owned was a hat that was a memory of her dead husband, who loved the hat and wore with all pride when he went out,an umbrella which she bought from her meager savings to protect her child from rain and a bag . As she slid her hand into the bag that grew old with her, she found only medicines which had already given up to help her fight cancer.

She felt weak in her knees due to her age and more due to her devastated life. Her faded memories took over her emotions. Alone there, she stood and recalled how she had worked all her life to bring up her one and only son when he lost his father just after a year of coming to earth. He was the only reason for her happiness. She lived her dreams in him. She had done everything possible to make him smile. She ate the leftovers and most of the times drank only water when she made sure her child never missed a meal. She didnot deny him of education. She celebrated him. Loved him immensely. And stood by him with all her might as a single parent,a lady power. She disconnected with her own family when she was forced time and again to marry for the second time.Afterall, they had felt  that she should not remain alone at the age of 20 for the rest of her life. As she held her kid in her both the hands close to her chest she found a reason to live.Live for him.



She had named her only reason to live as ‘Surya’ hoping that he would shine in prosperity and be the light to other lives.The light to eliminate darkness. But, he had left his own mother in darkness. Homeless and hopeless.

Story weaved for Magie Tales:Mag 27




Diversion.Living the dream



Victory blend with happiness to fill her every cell as she was announced as the winner of the 'International Dance Festival'.Sara had set the stage on fire, she glew like an emerald in the lime light,with a confident stance she looked like a roaring lioness, the sound of applause had filled her senses, her heart pounded with praise,all her efforts reaping the result that moment.She had lived her dream to become the best dancer of her times instead of a slave to an dominating husband who never even saw her as a piece of living thing on earth. She was glad and proud of herself to have taken the 'Diversion' on her route to her favorite dance class few years ago instead of heading to her husband after she was all beaten up blue by him and left on roads. The 'Diversions' taken to embrace her freedom and live her passion.


This five sentence fiction is written for the topic 'Diversions' at Lillie McFerrin Writes.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Roaring wheels in Rain- Roar 1

"Are you serious?"

I asked him for the tenth time.

Yes, I am.

"Will you please stop beating around the bush and get ready? "His voice stubborn this time.

He scurried out of  the bedroom adjusting his glasses.Karthik grabbed his wallet and his fingers ran over all the cards  and cash it contained, pulled the bike keys from his pocket. As he went on to check the rain outside, I re-checked our travel backpack again to make sure I had packed some extra clothes and rain jackets a must.Our phones and camera   battery were charged fully and  would easily survive till the day’s evening.

An SMS slipped from my phone that read : 
                                                    "Hey Gani.
                                                   Leaving now. Will likely reach Madikeri   by  6 PM                                                                                        probably.
                                                      C ya soon!"

      At 6:00 am, On 1st of November, 2012, when the whole state celebrate Kannada Rajyotsava ,with 3 layers of warm clothes followed by a rain jacket, our feet sand witched between a pair of socks ,followed by the  thick rain boots, leather gloves and a huge round  helmet making room for our heads, we looked no less than astronauts. I sure knew one thing , We looked gigantic.

The pecks of rain pour from heaven to us , the world looked calm and the emanating fragrance of soil was sensitising.The clouds hugged each other under a dark blanket. The chill in the breeze hypnotized us, washing off our faces saying sweet nothing and leaving a smile behind.

Soaking in rain we set off our road trip on Thunder bird .In Rain.

    Karthik drove at a slow steady speed and did not hurry as the roads were already slippery. We wanted a calm drive not a race. As it was a state holiday, we started early in the morning to escape the Bangalore’s tragic traffic.Glad, We acheived it. In no time, we reached the Mysore road and it was time for a tea break.

T

Read the next Roar here



Greetings at the Sea

I hear my heart sing the 'tune of wave'
A little time at the bay is what i always crave
gushing and guzzling they come to me holding hand
To touch and muse me with thier magic wand

Shutting the doors of my world of craze
here i come to play and praise
chaos i escape, rid of all the tempt and trauma
I stand alone in my life, i call it  a wordly drama

silver moon smiles at me and signs 'Long time'
nodding i agree for reasons being lame
endless waters i watch off my neck
Here i swim with my heart and soul free and unstuck

Beach side i missed,the fact i donot shrug
chores i left undone,i dont deny a self-hug
lets raise to fall,dance and hop,plop in hurry
an empty mind, sea and soul, in solace i forget to worry

Love,





Thursday, May 14, 2015

The Jadugar ,The Sun and his Magic.

Strange as it seems i begin the blog with a questions that are not unfamiliar to us. How many times do we feel trapped in the maze called Life? what's the probability number we come with to quote the lame reasons for not finding time midst our busy lives?Have we got so busy in life to deny the magic happening around us?
I am no exception here. But this is what i did when i
found  made time to witness the magic of sun and chose to call him a 'Jadugar' ,felt apt to suit my imagination.
The magic begins at the dawn promptly everyday by the 'Master of light' and the only visible God. .His rays of hope passing the various layers of  voidness before filtering through the green leaves ,penetrating my window glass ,warming my cheek gently and softly. The first person to greet me through this warmth ,wishing me a bright ‘Good Morning’.
I have always fancied watching the shades of sun during his rise and fall. I have climbed hills and waited for him to shine upon us and captured a few magical moments. He peeks in sneakily first and rather steadily later behind the hills,mustering all his courage, glowing brighter each moment ,opening his pink feathers like a flamingo , with all  his might and  attitude throwing the most intense smile to the world. All done in his own style and grace. A burning ball of fire ,with a shower of rays stands above us with a stern pose.
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Having rejoiced his rise ,I am no less  amazed at the way he sinks in the same way at dusk tirelessly with the same confidence, keeping us hypnotised and bedazzled at him. The best time for me is to wait for the sunset near the sea. The time when I can get lost and mesmerized. The time when I can taste a visual treat .All in silence , hypnotized. Standing at the sea shore with my camera to capture his magical hues ,shades of his own ,being intense in the begining ,getting milder gradually, drowning in the cocoon of calmth,he vanishes in the veil of clouds with shy leaving behind a trail of hope and smearing the ripples of water golden,leaving a message to the world.
The message of hope ,the hope to rise.Again and Again.
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I have a thing to say about him...
You are glittering in your charm  
You are my sincere daily alarm
So kind you shine upon us
Another day to face the daily fuss.

You are so intense and strong
Waking me up with a soothing morning song
Lesson you teach me to Rise and fall in grace
Stunning you are, with changing hues you embrace

You are the God of light and life.
Empowering me to tackle my soul and strife
Impressed I lay daily at your radiance and might
I hear you whisper to me ‘wake up! Today is another chance to get it right”
                                              

Nature by my side

Image source: Google

On earth there is no heaven, but there are pieces of it.

Nature is the biggest gift to mankind. To me, spending time in nature is a  worship. Proximity to Godliness. Nature is a true teacher which lets us learn our own lessons,in silence. In our way. A process of intriguing a self portrait.It teaches us a million things.It shows us to live in harmony,reminds us that life is not always going to fall into place seamlessly.Nature symbolises Peace,it leaves us pondering  that life is fleeting and best for the last teaches that chaos is a part of life and time and patience can heal the most of it,by itself.A feeling that no one  is alone in the universe.
I don’t believe in pleasures that are temporary and those which can convince my mind and not touch my heart. I am firm believer that joy comes from things beyond man-made, and to me, the bundle of joy is experiencing ‘Myself’ and the being inside me. I don’t have expensive indulgences where I feel a sense of achievement owning  a iphone, the costliest car ,a lunch at the most expensive restaurants or pride in buying the most fashionable branded dress. I believe life is more about being simple and realistic. Packets of joy found in little things. Around us,within us.
I knew one thing best about what makes me happy.The time I could spend wandering miles,exploring places,the learnings that I could take away from a trip,a bunch of memories no matter sweet or harsh are always etched in my dairy and my camera ,more than anything in my heart.
I always get chatty with my husband,yes my best travel companion about how travel helps a person evolve in his/her thoughts for hours and days.When we need a break or go crazy or for no reason(most probable reason:P) we just pack our bags with a pair of clothes,a first aid kit,and few snacks (my friends know it better that my bag is never void of snacks),load our bike with fuel and luggage,grab our wallets,set off the house to quench our wanderlust.There are times when we have made plans on the way after we set off,altered a bit and changed our routes and then decided our destination.Yes this happens with crazy people like we both,but all for good .
We have tried our strength from a  sturdy treks to water rides to rollercoaster rides to climbing mango trees .We have enjoyed playing in beaches like the typical sea bums to skiing and skating on snow ,we have waited hours with patience to capture sunsets in our camera to lazing by lake side doing nothing.Be it indulgence in elaborate cooking on woodfire under a tree or a river raft or a walk in a paddy field,or a rain dance or a road trip or a power nap on the fresh grass,we have done them like there is no tomorrow.
“Traveling – it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller.” – Ibn Battuta
And …..this what I have become I believe:P
Love,

Gokarna- A piece of Heaven on earth

A trip to Gokarna with my husband was many a dream come true. I had missed couple of chances to visit Gokarna in the past. After a series of road trips  to Ooty, Waynad, Madikeri etc ,this time we set off to Gokarna for a completely relaxed vacation where we were exempted from the driving stress hence we decided to travel by bus.
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It was around 12 hrs drive covering around 500km distance to reach our dream destination. Once we got down from the bus we looked around for a rick to reach the Kudle beach. We were charged 100rs just to travel 3 kms but trust me ,driving the rick in those narrow criss-cross roads seemed like a roller coaster ride to me. With our heavy back packs we had to walk down an extra mile to reach the spot. My ears started sensing the sound of the tides and my heart started pounding with excitement. There we reached the Kudle for our 4 day escape plan!:)
Day 1:
Kudle is a picturesque with everything that nature can project, ranging from smashing green trees to lofty hills and pristine white sands to blue sky. This is no luxury place with extra vibrant restaurants and hotels around.All we could find were the cosy beach huts also called shacks. We bargained for one of those at the 'Shanthi café'. It was small yet clean and comfortable. The cafe had food ranging from Indian-Italian-Israeli to Chinese-Continental and what not. We started our day with awesome breakfast with masala chai( served in the beer  glass though).
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We sprang out of the café with our camera to capture the magic moments around. Kudle, a stunning stretch of sand backed with tall cliffs providing ultimate pricing for those who wish to partake amidst nature in the incredibly laid back beach. As the sun got milder, it was time for me to try my swim strokes first time in the sea. We went for a walk on the bay in the evening  waiting to watch the sunset.
Around 6:30 pm we starting capturing the changing hues of sun and stood stunned watching the beautiful sunset ever like a magic show getting engrossed in its sheer magnanimity. It was bright yellow first, then pink then orange and crimson red finally.
As it began to get dark there was an entirely new world getting created there. The dark sky was lit by millions of stars. This was a spectacular mesmerizing view. One moment I felt we have got so busy in life that we forget to notice the magic by nature happening around us every day. I started reminiscing my childhood days when my dad showed me stars and told tales about them. Laid on the sand ,watched the falling stars ,made wishes which are believed to come true.
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I could hear my breathe, the gushing water, the cool breeze washing off my face saying nothing. The calmness and serenity of water that night made me thank my husband millionth time for the vacation. We had a sumptuous dinner and we were done for the day.
Day2:
I was never an early bird but at Kudle we got up around 6 am with our camera ON. The plan for the day was a trek to 'Om' Beach. 'Om' or 'Omkar' beach is another famous beach of Gokarna. It gets its name because of the '3' shape of the sand. The trek midst the forest was made easy by the navigation marks laid on the rocks(definitely not by the Karnataka tourism board :-P) As we reached Om we caught the amazing and incredible sight of the ocean and coastline. The bhel puri and lemon juice at the nearby stall  re-instilled our energy levels after a dreary trek.
We went on boat to visit the other beaches namely the 'Half-moon' and the 'Paradise' beach.The half moon beach was yet a simple one with seasonal shacks laid there. Paradise or the Naked beach is only about 70 meters and became infamous due to too much illegal activities.Forest department had broken down few shanties so it was remained secluded, remote and inaccessible.
We missed the dolphin spotting activity at Om as usually these trips are conducted in the early hours of the morning as the dolphins are closer to the shore during this time of the day.With little bit of disappointment yet carrying the boating experiences in mind we trekked back to kudle. By then, we had become the trek experts b/w Om and Kudle (P.S- credit to the faint navigation marks  laid my some tourists on the rocks).
We then saw something more exciting on Kudle as we found some local guys arranging for the water sports .We decided to try them all .It was time for  us to test our strength, grit, spirit & balance. We played banana boat, where the mission is to stay on the boat and balance against the waves lashed by sea. We are repeatedly thrown off but we always got back up to start again. We also played bumpy ride, jetskie and others. The rest of the day went on getting soaked in the sun, swimming, lazing, relaxing, hopping and sipping in solitude.
I adore the food at  shanthi café. Everything was made to order yet so fast, tasty and cheap as well.All around the beach we found bikini clad girls ,hippies, people smoking and yes smoking up too.The rest of the day was spent interacting with the other beach bums all over  the world.I told myself there is so much to see, so much to learn and experience over the globe.
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Day3:
We swam like the glowing creatures made some local friends to play, read some books, listened to Bob dylan’s songs and did nothing and repeated this cycle again and again. In the afternoon, we went on fishing and caught no fish:(
We visited the famous Malabaleshwar, Lord shiva’s temple .The temple is located on the shores of the Karwar coast of the Arabian sea in a green environment in the holy town of Gokarna on the West Coast of India in  North Kannada district. Gokarna lies between the Gangavali and Aganashini rivers. Gokarna means cows ear. It is believed that shiva emerged from the ear of the cow (prtihvi , the mother earth).
'Cover the earth before it covers you' a quote that struck me at that moment.
We waited for the magical sunset to happen again followed by the light show in the night and to the ordering of elaborate menus to shib, my chef.
Day 4:
It was actually a not a very happy day as we realized that it was our last day in the paradise. We swam as much as we could, settled our shack and food bills.
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Midst all the packing up, I visited Shib's kitchen with huge curiosity that he might have an akshaypatra inside to serve such delicious food in no time and perfect taste.
It was the last sunset we could see of our trip looking even more elegant  that evening,envying the people who were staying longer there. We knew that we will be missing the sun, sea, sand and serenity in this piece of heaven
Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you did not do than the ones you did. So throwoff the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails explore, Dream,Discover.  -Mark Twain
All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.  –Martin Buber