no divorce in hindi

for the last few days i have been searching for the hindi word for divorce. but apparently there's none. which brings me to this perplexing thought that they really believed in the '7 janmo ka rishta' philosophy. and this isn't comforting.
apparently, the hindu way of thinking also emphasises the existence of opposites. so beautifully highlighted in the movie Aks. so, if there's a 'shaadi', there should also be a, you know what i mean.
but then, history also gives us an example. ram had separated from sita. but nomenclature didnt adopt the act. so i guess the act is quite prevalent. but when you talk about it, as rahul puts, one comes at a loss of words.

the fall of rain

after such a long time, this year it rained in delhi. seems like someone has been pouirng his heart up there. it just rains nowadays. wonder why rain has such a soothing effect. it immediately makes me smile. makes my heart ligther. and it seems that we live in a perfect world. i can just keep looking at the raindrops. and if you see them hitting the ground, it seems like hundreds of liliputs are dancing. that's what one of my seniors used to say.
if you overlook the muddy streets, collapsing buildings and jammed roads it leaves behind, rain is the perfect way to end a day. and if once in a while you give the perfect you a break, and dont mind getting drenched, it is also the perfect way of revisiting your childhood.
way back in the 80s and 90s, the summer vacation would be still on when monsoon came to patna. some 10-12 of us would continue our play on the terrace. the rain was not an interruption, it was a welcome guest. none of our parents would stop us from playing in the rain. mostly because our grandmother would give us the permit. according to her, the first rain was the perfect medicine for summer boils. patna at that time wasnt that advanced to experience acid rain, i guess. once the rain stopped, we would run down to the bathroom. water dripping from our clothes. after another shower in the bathroom we would be ready to resume our play.

ganga would outgrow herself every monsoon. last year when i visited the banks during dusshera, i could see chunks of land visible in the middle of the river. i hope this year the monsoon has replenished her. however much the water level, ganga in patna does not exude the deafening noise that it does in rishikesh. it grows old by the time it reaches my city. and sobers down.
river, rain. i guess it's the water that has a soothing effect on me. even the roaring of sea doesnt disturb. it soothes.

yakk yakk

recently i was very eager to blog. with so many thoughts brimming and anxiously waiting for an outlet, it was difficult to control myself. writing is therapeutic. it's like talking to a good friend. one that does not react however blasphemous your thougths. is not judgmental. and best of all, keeps your secrets hidden from the world. that's the beauty of writing, when you do it in a diary. and tug it away behind a pile of forgotten clothes in your wardrobe.
a blog is totally contrary to it. so many people will read it and talk about it. it's like baring your soul, asking people to be judgmental. how i missed the diary. have got so used to letting it out on a keyboard, that scribbling in a diary seemed an effort.
so the thoughts brimmed, floated and i talked. big time. i probably let it out in installments. it's like, if the 10 people i interact with the most get together and discuss, they can piece together the whole story. how i miss the diary.