Musings: Leaf tracks

Once upon a gentle breeze, a leaf blew to life. It turned its fragile tip to the morning dew as rays etched its face, deep into its veins. It stole a whisper from the ages past, rendered on the wind.

In a muted voice, it sailed to faraway shores, borne on the crest of a wave. It dipped into streams of thought, feather-edged as the air. It swept the skies with the fringe of a palm, swaying to a timeless beat. The rhythm that raced through its grain was laced with the ferment of being.

Its infinite array was vernal-hued, painted in a flurry of light. Wind-carved, delicate as dragonfly wings, it etched gossamer shades on a sprawling mosaic, a jigsaw of water and land.

But as time took its toll, the greens turned to brown. And new nodes sprouted to bloom. Then sap rose anew, humming with life. As the breeze bore a jade leaf again.

Who am I?

Who am I?

I wish I knew.

Maybe I will, when I get to 79 or 104.

Not sure yet, though.

I was born in free India. But I believe I belong wherever I happen to be.

I’m Bengali by birth, south Indian by choice, and have lived in Bangalore/ Bengaluru since May 1992.

I love children. And the world of the word – written, read, spoken or imagined. I’m addicted to wandering around the globe, around India and way beyond.  

I write books, by choice. I'm an independent journalist, too. 

Over the past four years, I’ve come across dozens of folks who’ve asked me: “Why don’t you blog?”  

So, here's my first blog. Launched on an unusual day, February 29, 2012. Through it, I hope to be able to share chance encounters, conversations, stories beyond route maps, questions beyond guidebooks, all that lights my path as I travel, within myself, without myself. Inner journeys mean as much to me as physical distances do.

I realize with certainty that, as I travel, I’ve grown addicted to the unknown. To wrong turnings. To getting lost. To looking up into the eyes of a stranger across continents, who helps me find my way back ~ and becomes my friend for the next decade or more. To my (sometimes wobbly) centre. To my search for myself.

This blog, I think, will be about places… people… arts... food… stories… images…. I hope it will backtrack through time, location, close encounters….. and who knows what else?!

I’ve chosen to call these meanderings … MULLED INK!

Will you travel with me through this collage of memories and moments? Be my friend? My reader? My guest? My guide? Or even my companion in wonder?