Sunday, December 26, 2010


We devise our own expedients, to cope when the going gets tough. Most of the times, when circumstances permit, I prefer to do a (slightly revised) Scarlett O’Hara and just leave, for some place hilly, quiet and peaceful. More often than not, it proves to be a better option than losing myself into the quagmire of ensuing emotions.
Maybe it’s a kind of escapism, but going away serves the most imperative purpose and that is, distance. For me it is vital. Because when I create that distance from the recurring cycle of events that seem to have become some kind of karmic wheel in my life- that of the past and present overlapping each other-it gives me ample amount of peace to think, recollect, resurrect, and breathe.
Often the idea to shuck off the old life, just like the snakes shed their skin, and acquire a new life haunts nearly all of us at some point of time. How wonderful to be able to get lost in some insulated obscurity.
One evening, during one of these excursions, I was walking through the winding paths under a leafy avenue and this thought grew in proportions.
Something shifted inside me with the recollection,and I felt dizzy. I decided to sit on a nearby iron bench that stood under an old deodar tree. As I sat, ignoring the sudden damp chill of the bench, my eyes fell on the trunk of the tree. Many messages of devotion, pledges of undying love, and 'yours forever' promises, were scribbled on the gnarled trunk of that tree by lovers who had passed through this trail. I was about to turn my head when something caught my glance. Down below the trunk, where the latticed backrest of the iron bench had almost obscured the inscription, was something that made me peer closer. Instead of the usual ‘Rani loves Mohit’ with the ubiquitous heart and an arrow pierced through it, someone had scrawled.

Wherever You Go, There You Are.

It stopped me in my tracks. Well, literally. The mist began to dispel slowly from the foggy landscapes of my mind and I felt as if I was watching a new sunrise somewhere in a distant horizon.


Elisabeth said...

You enjoy your solitude, Nazia, it seems to me from what I have read and seen of your work. It is an admirable quality that you can reconstitute yourself ad your energy thus. I wish I was better at it myself.

Nazia Mallick said...

Yes, Elisabeth.
Saints were rarely married women:)

Well, jokes apart, for me solitude is more about the gift of contemplative moments, to remain balanced, no matter what centrifugal forces tend to pull me off center.

Thank you for appreciating what my folks think is a pathological disorder:)

Basque-Land said...

"pathological disorder". egads, you are funny! Seriously, I have always loved that saying too. I had a dear dear elder friend, a metaphysician tell me once, "Rozanna you control your mind, don't let it control you". I love that one too. My anguishes have always worn down and away with time and with renewed perspective. Peace.

Nazia Mallick said...

Thank you Rozanna!

Metaphysician sounds like an exciting calling. wow!

awyn said...

Hi Nazia my friend, greetings from across the pond. "How wonderful to be able to go to a place where no one knows you" (you said). But YOU know you. I think that's what is meant by "Wherever you go, there you are." At least those two lines in your posting seemed, in my mind, connected.

I have been in that place, Nazia--getting lost in the quagmire. I stumbled on a little quote that's gotten me out of many a quagmire (mentally) and will pass it on, for what it's worth. (It was accompanied by an illustration of a bunch of birds trapped in a woman's hairdo. :) "You cannot prevent the birds of sorrow from flying over your head, but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair." No need to cut off one's hair ("shedding the skin"). Just don't allow un-understanding creatures, birds and human, to fly in and destroy your equilibrium. :) P.S. Have you finished your second book yet?

Nazia Mallick said...

Hello Annie, thank you very much for your warm words on a foggy, cold morning, this side of the universe!

These intermittent ideas of reinventing, revising and restarting is always more attractive, when one is dreaming about it. Sometimes they provide the necessary reprieve.

I especially liked the
"Un-understanding creatures" phrase. It is uncanny how you have put your finger on the exact difficulty...

My second book has gone through many false starts,is still under the scalpel, on my table, but I just hope 2011 will be a New Year for me:)
Many good wishes for you on the forthcoming New year!

María Eugenia said...

Hola Nazia:
Leerte es una invitación a la profunda reflexión.
Saludos y mis mejores deseos por el 2011.

Nazia Mallick said...

Thank you Maria
Many good wishes for a Happy New Year!

Pallav said...

Soothing lines!

Nazia Mallick said...

Thank You, Pallav.


Last night you wrote your sonnets in  Braille: the commas, parenthesis, ellipses engraved perfectly on my skin- and  I  ...