A quick visit to Modhera Sun Temple, Gujarat

Today, I simply couldn’t help visiting my blog that’s been neglected for quite some time now. I felt guilty of not writing and thought I wasn’t being fair to myself! And of course during the last 12 months, I haven’t made many memories either, if I had, it would have definitely been up on my blog! Though the year seems to have been impoverished in terms of filling my repository with precious memories, I didn’t want to miss this opportunity to key-in few words, as my stay comes to an end at the guesthouse of the beautiful EDI campus, Gandhinagar, Gujarat.

I was lucky that this work related visit  gave me few hours to rewind and renew my energies with a short-long drive to the nearby historical Sun Temple at Modhera.  I missed visiting this precious monument during my last visit to Gujarat and this time I managed to sneak a few hours. 

 Modhera is about 80 Kms from Gandhinagar, and the drive was quite pleasant. And the cab driver Joshibhai made the journey even more interesting with his anecdotes on demonetization and many other tidbits of current affairs. There was so much to catch up I thought! 

Well, the most interesting story he told me was about how he dealt with a passenger, a chain smoker who was willing to give away any number of old notes to get packs of cigarettes and the funny incidents that followed...the drive was quite entertaining with a chatty companion. After we crossed Mehasana, the road was a bit patchy and uneven but this didn’t bother us much as we saw the many golden mustard fields on both sides of the road. It seemed like a scene straight out of the Kajol and SRK’s song in DDLJ J

The Sun temple was built in 1027AD by the Solanki kings and suffered a lot of damage during the rule of Mohamad Ghazni. No deity is worshipped in the temple and it is maintained by the Archeological Survey of India. Being Sunday, the temple was filled with foreign tourists and local visitors and it presented a beautiful sight bustling with selfie-lovers, architecture and history lovers and heritage enthusiasts. The fun part of my visit was to see Joshibhai clicking many selfies and videos as this was his first visit to the place. For a moment I wanted to forget about my selfie-shyness but that didn’t work; and Joshibhai was quite expert at taking pictures. 

Another memory I carry from this visit are those little school kids from a primary school who were accompanied by their teacher. Two of the came to me and asked shyly “what your name? and others joined them and wanted to talk in English. They told me they are from a Gujarati school and the teacher was apparently unhappy with the kids breaking out of their group. I listened to some very creative English from them and took a group picture.

We went around the temple and saw the intricate carvings (though mostly damaged) and also spent some time inside, admiring the exquisite pillars, the arches and the ceiling. The next point was the adjoining ornated step well with interestingly beautiful geometrical patterns when viewed from the top. As you get down the steps it’s a wonderful feeling to real the water level and look up to get a magnificent view of the temple (both the mandapas). The vast lawns around the temple complex make the environs serene and peaceful.

This memorable short trip was refreshing and got me recharged to get back to my timelines and roadmaps, resuming from where I paused!

When Brahma Kamalam bloomed in my balcony

It was just two months ago. My mother had just reached home after a short trip to Bengaluru and was rummaging through her bag for few sprigs that she got from my brother's neighbour. When I saw the stem (leaves) she carefully managed to get, I could quickly identify it was Brahma Kamalam and I told her it’s a difficult thing to see the flowers bloom, even if the plant takes root, since it would take ages to grow. Going by whatever I had heard or read about these flowers I thought it was next to impossible to have this spectacle unfold in my balcony. But luck had it the other way. And, my mother's green thumb does the magic again.

Last evening was nothing short of a miracle.  Earlier in the day, at 12 noon to be precise, when we saw the bud tightly wrapped in greenish maroon streaks of sepals, it seemed like it may take few days to blossom. But, perhaps due the rainy and humid day, by 5.00 PM the bud had puffed up showing the inner whitish petals. In an hour, there was more loosening of the bud and my excitement know no bounds as we were about to witness a rare nocturnal occurrence of Brahma Kamal blooming in our own balcony.

I left my laptop behind and forgot about the pending tasks for the day / evening. I simply didn’t care about anything else, not even the endless mosquito bites, and sat in the balcony for hours watching the unusual spectacle unfold - in layers of petals and a whiff of something like frankincense in the air around the planters. My weakness for taking flower pictures was it its peak as I took several of them and 'reported the event live to my close friends and family', thanks to WhatsApp on my Sony Xperia.

Brahma Kamalam, (not to be confused with the mythical Himalayan variety or the state flower of Uttarakhand) is also known as Nishagandhi and Bethlehem lily as I googled to know more about this exotic flower. The mythical name apart, the flower is supposed to be very auspicious, going by the popular belief. Actually, the process of watching the flower open up is quite a sight to behold -  more like spiritual. By midnight, the flower was in full bloom, it felt like a tiny piece of moon landed on one of the flower pots with its amazingly white surreal feeling!

My mother had a nice name for it - she instantly called it bin paani ka kamal meaning lotus without water. In fact, it was nothing short of a lotus in a planter, clinging on to a frail bamboo stick for support. As the petals layered out, and the whole flower showed up in full glory, we started worrying about its short life and how it would soon droop and wither before the first rays of the Sun. And that’s exactly how it was this morning - I simply couldn’t believe how it lay lifeless! The huge white floral wonder that stood erect majestically last night, was completely languished, shrivelled up into a bud.

So symbolic the entire process was! It was like witnessing a short life filled with power packed performance, giving the best it could and creating happy memories. It was just not a happy feeling when I saw the withered sight and simply couldn't believe it was the same flower, but feeling of loss was quickly balanced with the beautiful and baffling memories it left behind. So evocative the entire experience was! So much to be cherished till the next blossom! Nature is divine and she never ceases to amaze us :)

Conversations over coffee

Please don’t read in between the lines, going by the title of this blog post. No, I didn’t ditch my tea! Archana, Madhu and Kavitha, please don’t be disheartened - the gift tea packs you showered on me are all in tact and I cherish every moment and every sip with those endless flavours from as far as Australia, Sri Lanka and Ooty. While my diehard addiction to tea will last as long as I’m around, this time, for a change I picked up a pack of granulated coffee from a near by supermarket - a hypermarket to be precise. Perhaps got carried away by the introductory offer on this brand of coffee and so on! A temptation I couldn't resist.

And, today as coffee replaced my afternoon tea, I asked myself why this sudden change in me? May be I just needed a CHANGE. It’s good to try out new stuff once in a while, right? Coffee was more of a student-days thing, not just a beverage; it was a must-have for those late night reads when most of us believed that caffeine is the best saviour when you need to sharpen your senses while slogging for research and project deadlines. The mandatory steel filter/percolator at home now lies unused in one of the racks in kitchen, a memory of younger days, when conversations happened mostly around those cups and tumblers filled with a unique roasted aroma wafting through the brain to stimulate the intellectual hormones, if there's anything like that! Remember this was not instant coffee!

Coffee, for me,  was when there were no Cafe Coffee Days and Starbucks in Hyderabad and our nearest source of freshest coffee was Ramesh Coffee Stores in Sitafalmandi, Secunderabad. Coffee is nostalgia about heated debates and discussions about English Education in India with a bunch of friends, some of whom smoked along and I did not mind the passive effect as we were engulfed in discussions about some burning issues in the country. Coffee, for me, was when we had our fill of Idli or Dosa and simply couldn’t resist ordering a cup in a Kamath in Hyderabad or a Sagar in Bengaluru. Coffee distinctly evokes those library and fieldwork days at IISC Bengaluru, which had an outlet /canteen of Tata’s if I remember right. And, my most unforgettable original coffee experience was whenever I visited Dr. Rajagopal on EFLU campus. I don't remember missing out on any occasion, their freshly filtered coffee, served most traditionally, in a small steel tumbler.  This was most refreshing after a somewhat long drive to their place for a quick catch up.

Coffee was when my parents disliked the caffeine overdose as a means of staying awake late nights to read, write and while away time imagining how I could change the things I could not! And did not know the difference.

Coffee was idealism - tea is realism!
Coffee is my past and tea is what I live for.

Golden moments with the Gulmohars

Mobile phone camera is not an extension of our eyes (sometimes it’s good not to go with Marshall McLuhan J )This is what I wanted to tell myself by resisting to take pictures of the flamboyant and grand Gulmohars as I passed through the green avenues and verdant expanses in Bengaluru. Instead, I consciously savoured every luxuriant sight and tried to frame them in my memory, overcoming the itch with a new Sony Xperia in my hand.

And this memory instantly connected me with a painting of Gulmohar that I did as a school kid and lots of lovely memories of the Gulmohar trees near my house when we lived on the CIEFL/EFLU campus and of course, the then green environs of Osmania University. Gushing Gulmohars have always been my favourites when as kids we used to play under the trees in the park or the road-side or collect the fallen flowers after a heavy storm or rain. They are perfect companions for summer along with Jacarandas and Copperpods, as they add so much colour and life with their regal splendour in the otherwise dry and arid landscape.

These passion-filled midsummer wonders have so much to tell. Look at the way they proudly stand out in the graceful green background with shades of scarlett, vermillion and red.

• Don’t they remind us of how brilliance scores over everything else in whatever we do
• The flowers are delicate and short lived – they can be easily brought down even by an unassuming summer shower. But the moment they wither, they delightfully deck up the ground with petals strewn all over, forming a tapestry of colours – deep, bright, cheerful and vibrant.  
• And what about the way they flame up the surroundings? This is so much like being a confident go-getter by making our presence felt 
• Most important, Gulmohars blossom for a short while; they are seasonal but they make the most of it through their royal, stately and impactful presence!

The tropical magic of Gulmohars is so much like what rows of colourful Tulips do in cold climes, right!

It was a mid-week Bengaluru visit, work-related, short and hectic. Travelling absolutely unplanned has it own anxitement. The relaxing views of floral delights helped me overcome some stressful moments and crazily unorganized work schedule that I was drafting for myself. Nature is always inspirational and absolutely magnificent!
If it wasn't for the zeal and zing of Gulmohars, my visit wouldn't have been so memorable! 

Escaping into the cloudscapes

When the skies refuse to remain blue

And when the sun refuses to get shrouded

When the amber simply pierces through

When the greys mix with golden hues

Nothing can stop the nature's site

From getting painted and annotated

With many colourful moods and musings.

It was one such evening on my terrace 

When I wandered lonely as a cloud

Invoking Wordsworth, Keats and Shelley

To accompany my romantic escapades 

Into the clouds.

My cloud journey captured as a movie

The tempestuous twirl of my tense mind

Matched perfectly with the colours of thunder

As the greys got greyer and swallowed the blue

I could relate to the tangled truths
And troubling questions with turbulent cues

While the serene blues made way for darker clouds
My feet suddenly dropped on ground

I could feel the soot and dust around

That soon turned into a thunderstorm.

As the celestial spectacle unfolded
The stressful heart contested with the speed of lightening

There I was, trying to untwine

And surrender myself to the mood of nature!

Then it cooled, rained and poured
As the drops soaked me head to toe

As if to pacify and soothe my racing mind

Telling me to gather, compose and be calm

As the clouds will soon fall in line

And the silver lining is yet to be drawn!

The tree and the bulldozer

When I moved into my new flat two years ago

All I could see was a beautiful rockscape at a distance, with many shrubs

And closer home were a few lush green trees

Abode of several birds and a source of shade for many 

I made friends with the one closest to my balcony

This green friend could calm my nerves; as I admired her verdance

She gave all that she could to the needy; for she had so much in abundance

How could I forget an evening when someone lit the firewood underneath 

And prepared a meal as his truck as parked next to her?

As the place became a hotspot for development, all I could hear 

were trucks, tractors, tippers, cranes, bulldozers

How could the trees fend for themselves?

My heart ached to see some of them getting razed to ground

I felt helpless listening to them trampling down

But I was sure that no one will touch my friend

As that piece of land never seem to be in rush for development

Everyday I would make sure to see that no bulldozer was parked near her

As if I could control her destiny

The tree was promptly cut into half

The other half stood lifeless

The plot of land was marked with lines

The architects did their job, fine!

I thought they had some genuine love for green 

As I did see them leave some space near the remaining part of the tree

The bulldozer has a heart, I thought

For it only dug and shoved and its teeth never touched the tree

All monsters can't be so cruel, I consoled myself

But again, that was not to be!

That evening when I returned home

I saw the tree fighting against the mighty razor

When the blades were biting her trunk

When the wheels were crushing her branches, stems and leaves

I could hear only a cry!

And that was my own cry

At the helplessly vulnerable moment of mine

When I saw my mute friend whine

And breathe those lost moments in close confine...

I was the sole witness to a murder in daylight

How easy it is to kill a tree

And why should the killer go scot-free?

Why is it not considered a sin?

And if it can ever be purged 

Then, plant at least five trees for every tree that's killed!

Why blogging is serious fun! What I gained from 10 years of blogging

If it hadn’t been for Blogger I wouldn’t have been able to look back at myself, think, laugh, cry, remember, relate and recollect and well…. relive the good, forget the bad and ignore what needs to be ignored. It need not be greatly composed stuff, with wonderful words, creative sentences and flawless grammar and a great display of blogging skills and other blah-blah. Personal blogs are the best tools for spontaneous, natural and authentic self- expressions and  for engaging with people around us. That’s how simple it is – the joy of blogging!

It’s not about counting the number of 'likes', 'comments' or 'shares' on Social Media or even monetizing…blogging is just fun if it’s taken in the right sense and if it is done the right way, in the right spirit. And the best thing about it is there’s no ONE right way:)

It’s left to us how what we want to write, what interests us and believe me it really helps. Wondering how? I’ve gained from blogging in so many ways, if this is an indication of my unconcealed joy of writing and being connected with people, places and the happenings:

• Helps me in being the real me: sharing my anxieties, hopes, aspirations, fears…
• Express myself in ways that come naturally to me - even without rhyme or reason
• Enriched my personal diary by turning it into a delightful digital space
• Record, document and share those little things our lives are made of
• Keeps me engaged with hobbies and pursue work-life balance
• Makes me want to write about those crazily simple things 
• Helps me relax and recharge after those madly rushed hours
• Brings the smile back reading the old stuff
• Makes me really laugh out loud when I translate and read my posts in other languages 
• Makes me become a better observer and writer and reflect on what’s going on
• Helps in understanding, discovering and knowing myself better
• Keeps me excited with new editing tools for pictures, collages and videos
• Got me continuous cheering from friends and kept me motivated to write
• Try different things without inhibitions – a bit of poetry and humor as well J
• Gave me a voice in raising issues and bringing them to the notice of authorities
• Tells me to live the moment as it is without being critical about it
• Helped me attempt different ways to write about different things
• Most important, it tells me that I need not be 'perfect' and shouldn't be over-critical 

When I look at the blog archives it seems more like a writing-graph showing the peaks and troughs closely linked with moments, ranging between high excitement to write like a compulsive blogger and those lethargic jottings that remained on my mobile phone or on note pads and never made it to being a blog post. So much like the ups and downs in any activity that makes it real, credible, natural, organic and from the heart.

Thank you Blogger! You have been my creative companion in myriad moments - in glory and in gloom - and I will certainly continue to inhabit this wonderful digital space and keep on going even when the going gets tough.

Is there a way to save the vanishing lakes in Hyderabad and Secunderabad?

The other day, when I was at the billing counter of the supermarket waiting in a rather long queue, I overheard something strange and kind of alarming. This guy on phone was apparently a new entrant to Hyderabad and was very excited and loudly describing his new beautiful flat, location, facilities etc. It kind of struck me when he was telling the person on the other side that he’s happy that there are no heavy rains in Hyderabad since he heard that his colony gets affected as it adjoins a lake, and by all accounts, his must be one of those ‘lake-view’ apartments encroaching the lake…My guess was perhaps he was talking to someone in Chennai and the havoc caused by recent rains. Yes, everybody has their problems and perceptions, I told myself and moved on carrying the shopping bags to the parking area, but how can one wish away rains? 

Ok, even if it rains copiously, will these lakes get saved? What about the promises of tourism department, the civic bodies; what about the concerns raised by environmentalists? How can we save the remaining water bodies from drying up completely and getting exploited for various commerical reasons? Is there a way to stop the toxicity and pollution? What is stopping people from acting on the plans and proposals - like the ones listed below? 

Just a day before, the Times of India carried an interesting story on the lakes in Hyderabad and Secunderabad and the sordid state of affairs that brought these lakes to the present predicament.  The way the lakes are getting denuded by the way and becoming sewage tanks and dumping yards is the way the city has grown unplanned and unorganized, not being able to protect the gifts of nature.

The lake I drive by everyday, is one such victim and I wonder why it can’t adopted or cared for by  large corporate houses or the Rahejas, or the ILabs or the upcoming ITC 5-star hotel. How else can such lakes be revived as restored? At least the stories about Durgam Cheruvu that come in media are at best, giving all hope!

The topography of Durgam Cheruvu is interestingly carved out and one wonders  how little time it took for this beautiful and scenic surroundings to degenerate into a cesspool!  The once-beautiful lake is surrounded by rocks, residential complexes, independent houses, software MNCs, restaurants, a soon-to-be-coming-up ITC 5star hotel, a huge big mall and of course a sewage treatment plant. It is the same story with other lakes like Malkam Cheruvu in Raidurg and Amber Cheruvu in Pragathi Nagar and many others.

Here’s a quick recap of local and national news with some highlights about plans, promises and the resultant predicament, particularly for Durgam Cheruvu:

Encroachments  and the threat to the rockscape

http://www.frontline.in/environment/vanishing-lakes-of-hyderabad/article7003340.ece

http://www.newindianexpress.com/states/telangana/60-Acres-Near-Durgam-Cheruvu-Encroached/2015/08/12/article2970150.ece

http://www.thehindu.com/news/cities/Hyderabad/rocks-around-durgam-cheruvu-under-threat/article6386693.ece

http://www.thehindu.com/news/cities/Hyderabad/sixty-acres-of-durgam-cheruvu-encroached/article7528472.ece

Making it pollution free

http://www.ibnlive.com/news/india/durgam-cheruvu-soon-to-be-pollution-free-509210.html

http://www.thehindu.com/news/cities/Hyderabad/durgam-cheruvu-to-be-made-sewerage-free-soon/article6739382.ece

Plan for suspension bridge and rope way that never took off

http://www.newindianexpress.com/cities/hyderabad/Suspension-Bridge-across-Durgam-Cheruvu-Proposed/2013/12/20/article1955357.ece

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/hyderabad/Durgam-Cheruvu-to-get-ropeway/articleshow/8112023.cms

Grants, funds and hidden reasons for not implementing the plans

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/hyderabad/Influential-people-stalling-Durgam-Cheruvu-tourism-plans/articleshow/48368217.cms

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/hyderabad/Rs-35cr-granted-for-Durgam-Cheruvu-rescue/articleshow/16441178.cms

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/hyderabad/The-hidden-face-of-hi-tech-Hyderabad/articleshow/49030270.cms

I may be concerned about Durgam Cheruvu because of my long association with this area but I'm equally concerned about the plight of other lakes in the twin cities.

Picture courtesy: Times of India article on 26th November 2015

Mindful moments with the Moon

“Nice picture, how bright it looks… looks like they are celebrating Diwali on the Moon” when my maid said this on seeing the pictures of yesterday’s Moon, I burst out laughing but admired her creative interpretation. What an imaginative way to appreciate this natural phenomenon!  Wonder, how much we lose by not valuing the simple and the natural - the Sun, the Moon, the stars, the skies...

Glimpses of the Moon

As much as possible, I try to squeeze in at least half an hour, either early morning or in the evening, watching and observing things around me.  And, this is the best time of the day for me just doing nothing but trying to see something special in the most ordinary and mundane! Just listening to the birds chirping or watching the sun rise or gazing at the stars, the skyscapes or the Moon. May be it’s got to do with my sun sign,  the moments spent with the moon are absolutely mindful and give that inner peace which is difficult to find by doing anything else. As they say Librans and the Moon have a special connection :)

And when it’s the full Moon, the celestial sight is simply mindblowing with the aura created by the peace and calm surrounding this beautiful natural event. And yesterday it was a special full moon, a significant day in Hindu calendar with festivities surrounding the Sharad Purnima. This also marks the beginning Autumn-Winter phase and the moon is at his brightest best! Perhaps this was the biggest after the recent Supermoon.

Just watching the Moon or walking along can do wonders, remember like how we used to do such 'silly' things in our childhood – watching the moon moving along with us while we see it from a moving train or just running along while playing with other kids in the night. It’s not just refreshing those memories but re-living such simple joys that’s the real stress buster. 

Last evening, I managed to spend some time after a hectic and tiring day and believe me, those moments were so soothing and reassuring like a tranquilizer shot for the mind and body. There’s nothing extraordinary about it – the very fact of being one with nature connects us with ourselves and helps in clearing the clutter that we accumulate from the daily grind, sorry if I'm sounding unintentionally preachy.  

And I wanted to catch few glimpses of the moon after he traversed to the other side, that journey throughout the night, while I was sleeping. The early morning Moon was shining like a setting Sun, bright and glowing with an understated halo spreading amber and cheer to early risers. And as the Moon began to fade into the light blue skies in the morning, it left me with a feeling of wellness and vigor to start the day afresh, spend it mindfully and meaningfully, getting the best out of me!

When movies were like poems: Remembering Gurudutt on his 51st death anniversary

If Gurudutt were alive today, he would have been ninety, probably he would have been like Dilip Kumar and other veterans in their 90s - the living legends of cinema that celebrated finer aspects of being human. My love for some of his movies is like an addiction that you acquire in your growing up years, when you start to question and understand people, relationships and life in general.

We are born sensitive; it is the process of living that makes us insensitive, tough and callous. Some remain sensitive and go through the angst till they leave this world and leave behind a legacy that reflects their perception of the ways of the world. And when such a legacy happens to be through the medium of movies, we are enriched to have it in our cultural repertoire for generations to experience the art and celebrate the artist, the director, the cinematographer, the music composer, the actors and so on.

Some people come into our lives through their movies and leave that long-lasting impact, which transforms the way we relate to people and things. Their stories influence us; they change us and make us think. For them movies become an extension of their being. It is like a pristine canvas that waited to be filled with colours –  in black and white. It was almost like seeing the world in these colours devoid of accepting the shades of greyness in between. It is like perceiving the world in symbols, images and little fragments of poems.

What if the stories raised disturbing questions about humanity, about relationships, about ideology? This was when movies were pure and from the heart. I’m not sure if the concept of box office collections even bothered such people. Wonder how much they cared for fame, recognition and all that. Their movies didn’t need aggressive promotion; they just grew on you.

Sad, such a person left this world at a young age. The stories he told were way beyond his times like the character of Vijay in Pyaasa. The intensity with which he felt emotionally could be seen and felt vicariously like in the song jaane woh kaise log the jinke pyaar to pyaar mila...

It must have been his empathy and sincere identification with the characters, this was why his Pyaasa and Kagaz ke Phool did to movies what none of his contemporaries would do. Even today when I watch the song yeh duniya mujhe mil bhi jaaye to kya hai… I can identify and feel for the artist and his uneasiness, the character who was a misfit in the materialistic world. When I watch waqt ne kiya kya haseen sitam…I’m spellbound by the ethereal beauty of the song and the story it tells, not forgetting the visual effects that transport you into the world of the character.

Reading about him is like reading about someone who tried hard adjusting to the social truths and hypocrisies. Watching his movies feels like we enter the mind and makings of a person who wants to say so many things…someone who is a thinker, doer, visionary, but not an anti-hero like in Albert Camus’ Etranger. I can’t even imagine how Vijay from Pyaasa could be recreated if the movie were to be made in today’s world where movies are less and less about art and more and more about anything other than art.

As values like simplicity, sensitivity and fellow-feeling get more and more devalued and depleted, with every passing year, this person and his stories will become more and more reflective of the times, the culture and the social fabric. Of course, his life may not be an ideal one for people to follow, but his death does make us think about the tragic end he inflicted on himself.

So true... sounds so much like a premonition and so imminent, dekhi zamaane ki yaari, bichhde sabhi baari baari...matlab ki duniya hai saari...

Handwriting in the time of keypads and keyboards

Where is the handwriting we’ve lost in digital world populated with Arial, Times New Roman, Helvetica, Trebuchet and other fonts? Where are those pearly letters that strung words into sentences? What happened to the ubiquitous cursive style that was synonymous with good handwriting? As fountain pens gave way to ballpoint pens and gel pens, did it also impact the amount and quality of writing we do with our hands? How quickly we’ve adapted ourselves to digital screens and have lost our love for the paper and the book! It’s not without apology that I regret losing my habit of writing with a pen or pencil, carefully creating those letters, those little strokes that added aesthetic value. And of course, the joy of getting appreciated for beautiful handwriting. Of late, I notice how illegible my words become, how impatient it feels to really write something other than filling forms! Isn’t handwriting really at crossroads?

I couldn’t help going back to my school and college days, how meticulously we used to write our notes – that was when there were no short cuts to language and writing, forget about how we’ve dwarfed our words for texting to suit various digital messaging formats. And we’ve got swept away with the ease and convenience of keyboards and keypads, compromising the personal with the impersonal, defying our individual identities with uniform fonts and their impeccable appearance.

You might wonder, where is the need to trouble ourselves with pen and paper in the digital world. Especially, when we are talking about ecofriendly institutions and workplaces where we keep printing to the minimum. This certainly is the need of the hour, but how do we account for the loss of a skill that is identified with basic literacy. How do we keep this skill alive and make sure that it’s practiced and used consciously in our work life.

I perceive another psychological problem with this trend: look at the way our mind coordinates with the keyboard and compare it with the way we think when we write with our hand. I always felt the difference when I write directly on my mobile phone or my laptop as against making notes on paper or notepad and transfer them on to the screen for further expansion of my ideas. Though I’m unable to put this experience in words it’d great to study this difference and understand how the medium of writing affects our thought processes or vice versa.

Wondering what prompted this sudden concern of handwriting in me? Well, I do think back and feel sad about how much my handwriting has suffered with lack of practice, how illegible and unpresentable it looks. But, yesterday, when I had to make some quick notes from a book, instead of writing down the points or even keying them I ended up taking a picture of the paragraph on my mobile phone as I was in a hurry. Resorting to such quick and easy way of doing things makes me apprehensive about how digital technologies and handheld devices pose a threat to our creative skills, handwriting included.

Perhaps, this trend is inevitable as one treads through various stages of evolution with writing as a form of communication and handwriting as a form of creative expression!