A born Bohemian

Sol kadi..tasty, tangy and a little unnervy

Whatever i write might kick the senses just like my sol kadi :D. The same outburst of erratic thoughts without any control of time and destination.

There are so many things i want to pour on these blank pages….But how do i start? From childhood? The meandering youth? The restless growing age? Or shall i hit down the accelerator from the present and go back to the past?

Let me see…hmm..here i go knocking on my memories with a slight twist in the time machine. I was born and brought up in the bosom of the sandy beaches of Goa. A carefree soul, who spoke her own language of passionate prose. I weaved dreams on the sand. Build palaces on the palms and dived deep in the sea to rejuvenate  my soul.

I trekked the lands of the ancestors searching for treasures in the fossilized holes. There were days when time stood still and…

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My cricket fan from across the border

I know this is something i would have never done normally. But sometimes one has to take the plunge and pay the dues to the one’s who inspired and supported when the heart and soul needed the timely solace. I met one in the virtual world and i am grateful to God for this blessing.
Dear J.
How do i start this? I mean i have never written a letter to a stranger. Oh! Did i say a stranger! How can i say that, when i have known you for the past 7 years. It was the passion we have for cricket which brought us together. I remember that day, you entered in the room and watched us a group of cricket fanatics from across the wrold, batting on the screen of a virtual world.The front foot moments, the off spins and out swingers were hurtling in every corner of the screen with a few profanities thrown in!

It was World Cup season and our team had to come back after losing in the hands of Bangladesh! We were charged up to see that your team doesn’t make it to  the finals. Cross border rivalry!Lol,
And one fine day, maybe you couldn’t resist sending a pm and the first words i remember ” Good evening my good old neighbour”. I remember my daughter sitting beside me was laughing to her heart’s content to see that, first time i am getting a message from a total stranger 😛 I never chatted with anybody, my expertise was only shown in the room 😀 She was my partner in crime in the cricket room.
The best part was you pulling my leg whenever Sehwag got out which used to get my goatee 😛 How you admired Sachin for the way he plays. If you missed any match, I had to give you the updates. Those were the days!

That is how our friendship started. There were no hard feelings, the borders didn’t matter as we chatted about cricket and poetry. I am so grateful to you for introducing me to Mir Taki Mir, Faraz, Manto and above all to the beautiful world of Faiz. I remember how you used to goad me to keep on writing, not only poems but to put my sporting knowledge to better use! When i was going through a rough patch, how you used to call my daughter and ask her about my welfare. On that hospital bed, poetry kept me alive and that credit goes to you.

There was the time when your daughter stood state second in board exams, and i made a call to you.I could feel the feelings of a proud parent vibrating through. All our kids, yours and mine have grown up now. I am so indebted to you for your constant support.

Who says, total strangers cannot be friends? I have met you, who shares the same passions as I, cricket and poetry.No border can stop this mutual respect for each other. Maybe life could be kind and we meet sometimes….

With warm regards,

Your cricket fan

This post is prompted by write tribe,unsent letters# 3


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Diverse Loyalty

I live in a state where every year hundreds of farmers commit suicide. Isn’t it an irony! I mean we do get a good amount of annual rainfall. Every year half of the state is effected by floods. If rain god is showering his blessings on us, how come our farmers suffer in such misery? This is the main cause for the demand of a separate state.The diverse regional imbalance has taken its toll on the governance and the populace alike. On top we have a harvesty sobriquet ” The granary of the south






I mean the government should provide whatever possible facilities to facilitate for a good harvest. Instead of serving the farming community, our government is busy bifurcating the state in the name of parochialism . Being an outsider, i never wanted to be part of the political gimmicks! But, how is that possible, when this bifurcation taking its toll on my career. It really pain me to see the student community suffer.

 We were busy gearing up for an upcoming campus recruitment inspite of the bandhs in the coastal districts. Had a full swing training session for a week. The class used to be jam packed, We have nearly 500 students who are eligible for the campus placements.So, a few of my colleagues and I were on our toes, trying to make them learn as much as possible. I know many of you must be wondering, what is there to learn?It is just a round of verbal ability and then a round of interview! Well, well! 😀 When you have a bunch of students who have only used English to write exams, but never spoken! Then you know what i am talking about. I enjoy training students who are eager to learn this colonial language. It is not that i am an expert, but i do manage 😛


For a few days, it went of well, and last Friday when i went for my class! Imagine my surprise, all the students looked crestfallen! I was beguiled to see my boisterous batch so sad. Through some of them i came to know that, the campus recruitment is postponed to an indefinite date! Poor kid!s 😦 All because a few of the senior students are part of the agitation and are not supporting the upcoming recruitments!

I personally feels that students community shouldn’t be part of political agendas. These politicians are playing with the students future to meet their ends meet.

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My Dream


As long as i remember i had always been mesmerized by the sea. There is something in the air when one is surrounded by the misty waves. The overall ambiance of sun, sand and sea creates an urge to soar high and let the spirit take its wings. One is left to be with oneself..talk, introspect and feel the inner turmoil without an ounce of guilt. There is no pretense, no fear of being judged for all the human follies.


I had a childhood full of fun soaking in the breathtaking beauty of my lovely, quaint and naturally abundant Goa. How time took wings in the arms of nature is something i am still unable to comprehend. As we grow, time stand still and life takes its own course. Those cherishing memories of childhood followed the unknown path soothing the chaffed soul. 


I weaved verses into elegies of the lost time.Built fortresses on soliloquies. Sung paeans to erase the demons and moved on. There is something still missing and the heart yearns for that something in the bosom of my native soil. Maybe somewhere in the future i might find it hidden in those pristine, compassionate wavy bosom, till my last breathe!

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