Thursday, July 30, 2020
Friday, July 17, 2020
Saturday, July 04, 2020
Tuesday, June 30, 2020
Sunday, June 28, 2020
Thursday, June 25, 2020
Sunday, June 21, 2020
Monday, June 15, 2020
Friday, June 12, 2020
Wednesday, June 10, 2020
I don't exactly remember when or how it happened.
I grew up abroad and I would visit my hometown in the holidays. It was then that I first heard of the radio show "Binaca Geet mala". I remember that countdown of songs..and how I fell in love with a voice. There is a saying in English - love at first sight, but mine was love at first sound. I totally, irrevocably, fell in love with Ameen Sayani 's mesmerizing voice.
I remember how I'd rush to complete my school homework, get all that was required of me done..just so that I would be free for the show. I remember the excitement of hearing a favorite song on the popularity chart, the disappointment of another not making it..the way how Sayani Sahab's voice made each song special..every song had a mood, a character, and a life of it's own..
Some songs brought that soft smile on my face..while my imagination took me to places, and near people I dreamt about.. while some left my eyes moist. Than there were those that made me yearn and ache for that which I had never had or even experienced..and yet I felt that acute loss..a void unexplained.
The radio show and Sayani Sahab's voice enriched my teenage years and laid a solid foundation for love of music that has only grown with the years..the show may be off air..but it lives on in my heart and memories..and to this day my love for that voice continues..
Saturday, June 06, 2020
Wednesday, June 03, 2020
Monday, June 01, 2020
Dried flowers hidden between the pages of old books, sepia colored photographs, gramophone records, Mehdi Hassan's soft voice, Amin Sayani and Binaca Geetmala, crisp cotton saris, the familiar smell of Ponds talcum powder, rooh afza, and the luxury of being in touch with myself..the uncluttered, simple life.
A massive wave of nostalgia...
Tuesday, May 26, 2020
Sometimes I wonder how silence can vary so much in pitch and tone. Some silences are soothing and soft..some chaotic, while others are filled with a happy chatter. The silence within me today holds a high-pitched scream at its heart.
Reminds me of Ghalib 's words:
"जब की तुझ बिन नहीं कोई मौजूद
फिर ये हंगामा ऐ खुदा क्या है
दिल ए नादां तुझे हुआ क्या है..."
Monday, May 25, 2020
Monday, May 18, 2020
Sunday, May 10, 2020
Saturday, May 09, 2020
Tuesday, May 05, 2020
Monday, May 04, 2020
Sunday, May 03, 2020
Thursday, April 30, 2020
Copyright Renu Vyas
Friday, April 24, 2020
Sometimes I feel we don't really know people. We feel we totally understand them, their thoughts, their views, and what makes them "them".
But do we ever really know them ? do we ever truly see what lies beneath the surface ? Sometimes, I wonder if I even know myself. I was a different person long long back, I'm different now. Am I who I should have been ? So what does that make me ?
We all have our versions, and it's okay if people can't love all of them...
Thursday, April 23, 2020
Tuesday, March 17, 2020
Monday, March 16, 2020
Sunday, February 02, 2020
Thursday, January 30, 2020
Wednesday, January 29, 2020
Sunday, January 05, 2020
Friday, January 03, 2020
Wednesday, March 27, 2019
माँ सी ही होती है मासी
मायके में मैं जब भी जाती
जी भर के वो प्यार लुटाती
माँ सी ही होती है मासी....
माँ की तरह ही वो बतियाती
दुःख सुख में बन जाती साथी
माँ सी ही होती है मासी....
गलती पे वो डांट लगाती
रूठने पर फिर वो मनाती
माँ सी ही होती है मासी....
मेरी याद उसे भी आती
हर पल ये एहसास कराती
माँ सी ही होती है मासी...
याद मैं उसको जब भी करती
आँखें उसकी भी नम हो जाती
माँ सी ही होती है मासी....
काश मेरे भी पंख होते
उस से मैं मिल कर आ जाती
माँ सी ही होती है मासी....
Wednesday, February 06, 2019
But what happens when it's capacity is full ? A sponge does not explode so I suppose it just dries with time and the cycle of absorbing starts all over again..until the cracks appear and it slowly disintegrates.
The only words that come to my mind are Mehdi Hassan's :
Monday, January 14, 2019
Friday, January 11, 2019
Tuesday, January 08, 2019
When was the last time you gave a thought on putting the right amount of toothpaste on your tooth brush ? Have you ever been really worried that you may put more toothpaste than is needed or that you would get the amount all wrong ? well you need not worry any more ! It seems there is a “smart” gadget that can help you get just that "right" amount of toothpaste on your tooth brush !!
Yes, I'm talking about the toothpaste dispenser. Another piece of annoying technology that for me tops the list of useless gadgets.
I sit here and wonder, why would a company, any company, ask their employees to use their precious creativity and innovative talent to design a gadget that makes absolutely no sense ?
Maybe they felt that squeezing a toothpaste tube is, presumably, a lot of hard work and they wanted to do away with that task ? Or maybe the act of picking up the lid if/when it falls is very tiring ? Oh wait...now you don't have to worry about your spouse or child squeezing the tube at the center !! That way there will be less morning fights and divorce rates will go down and harmony amidst parents and children will be restored and life will be more peaceful !!
Really ? Do we really need a toothpaste dispenser ? This in my view is the new level of craziness and lazy.
Friday, September 28, 2018
I do not have a problem with people expressing their views, in fact I feel everyone should have the right to freely voice out what they think and feel.
The problem starts when the moment we express our views ( and that too in a very polite manner ) the other will reciprocate with unnecessary sarcasm, abusive language and ridicule. They make it their goal to either convince the other that THEIR view is the only right view or silence the other.
It's your right to disagree with another but that can be done in a graceful way too.
And silence should never be taken as submission.
And debates are all about speaking, expressing, and hearing the other.
They are not about shouting, suppressing the other's voice, not hearing another's view point and in general creating noise.
Social media gives us the freedom to express and interact. It saddens me when I see people becoming abusive on Twitter, Facebook and whatsapp.
I guess John Stuart Mill said it well:
"The peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error."
- John Stuart Mill
Tuesday, August 07, 2018
Friday, July 27, 2018
Saturday, July 21, 2018
Friday, July 20, 2018
Saturday, July 14, 2018
Saturday, June 30, 2018
Sunday, June 17, 2018
Sometimes in between our conversations
Deep inside, in those little pauses
Lies a whole new dimension
Where the silence speaks
A language of it's own
Whispering all that is left unsaid
You just need to stay quiet and listen
To the language of my heart
That only your heart can understand...
By Renu Vyas
Sunday, June 10, 2018
Sunday, May 13, 2018
It is raining in Pune today. A much needed relief after the hot spell we have had.
I have always loved rains. I know a lot of people who say they feel depressed when it rains. The grey clouds seem drab to them but to me they add an element of mystery. I absolutely love it when it rains. For me, rain means rainbows, long drives on deserted roads away from the chaos of the city, paper boats and the laughter on children’s faces as they jump and splash around in the puddles. It means hot “Pakoras” and some ginger tea as I sit by the window watching the water run down the window panes.
I love the sound it makes.. the constant rhythm that is regular only in its randomness fascinates me. After a while you cease to notice the noise that surrounds you and realize that rain has its own kind of silence, the kind where you can get lost in your own thoughts..the silence that invites your imagination to wander to all those places.. there is a privacy in rain..one just has to connect with it to feel it.
I love being out in the rain too. That soft satin touch on my skin invigorates me and I love the way it envelops me in itself, washing away the negativity and debris of daily life. The world seems so much more cleaner after the rain. The colours become more vibrant and alive, the landscapes get that surreal quality that is so appealing and the heavenly smell of wet earth.
For a person like me, who appreciates the beauty of nature, and all the blessings that comes with it..rain is life in all its varied forms. It is sheer poetry and the nostalgia of all that was or could have been.
I know it may sound weird to some but I love thunderstorms too. They give me this euphoric emotional release. They make me feel alive.
Yes, I love rains.
Saturday, May 12, 2018
Thursday, May 10, 2018
I have written about so many places and things here on my blog, but for some odd reason, I had put my memories of Papua New Guinea on hold. It was as if my mind had somehow blocked them.
Today I came across a few old photographs from my life in Port Moresby and it was as if a floodgate had opened. I felt like a fragile sand castle on the beach, that’s carefully built walls crashed and got carried away with the high tide of memories. My brain working overtime remembering all the lovely moments from that time back home..hold on..did I just say back home ? Yes, however much I might deny it, deep down the only place that ever felt like true home in my heart is and always will be Port Moresby.
I remember our house in Boroko. The houseboy Penny who defined the word loyalty, his wife Lucy who was a wonder at most things and a very gentle soul. I remember the Hibiscus, gorgeous bougainvillaea, stunning sunsets, moo moo parties, long dresses with bright big colourful floral prints, the bird of paradise , the women always carrying their little babies in slings with baskets on their heads, Pidgeon English, beetle nuts, red teeth and warm smiles..
I remember Skyline Drive In and seeing Clint Eastwood on the big screen for the first time and falling in love with him (that is until I saw John Travolta In Saturday Night Fever and Grease at Wards Cinema..sneaking off with my friends from school).
I remember Paga Hill and Koki Market. Shopping at Steamships and Burns Phillips, the long drives, the curves at Three Mile, Crystal Rapids, Brown River and Sunday outings to Ela beach..the heavenly smell of low tide..collecting shells on Taurama beach and putting the larger shells to my ears to hear the sound of the sea in them..
I studied at Port Moresby High School and made some great friends. I remember our Principal Mr. Terry Riles ( who I connected with once again after some 30+ years ). I remember how much I hated my French class though loved the English one with Mr. Jackson (and I had a secret crush on him too..haha), always looked forward to the school trips to Pari Village with my favourite teacher Mrs. Carol Kidu. I remember the lovely school dances, the plays, and the horrible detentions, and the awesome meat pies at the school canteen (and the tolly ice). I remember the 3 day school camps, the long hikes and being stung by Jellyfish.
Whenever I think of Port Moresby, the two songs that come to my mind are “Pearly Shells” by Nora Aunor and “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” by John Farnham. I would give anything to go back to that time in Port Moresby, but like everything else in life, times change..thank god I have these great memories that no one can take away from me..