To Rob And Bella And Their Incredible Journey

Dedicated to #TeamRobAndBella.

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I have been following the journey of Rob (Facebook: Robert Kugler) and his pet Bella, here on Instagram (@robkugler) as well on his website (rklifeillustrated.com) ever since I stumbled upon a news article about a man who was taking his dying pet dog on a bucket list trip around America.

I cried learning about Bella's passing yesterday, like I did a few years ago when I learned my pet dog Max had died who I raised as a puppy. We all knew the day was inevitable and felt it nearing in the past couple of days. But still... I cannot fathom the pain of Rob. I can only pray.

Bella was diagnosed with osteosarcoma (bone cancer) around May 2015 and doctor suggested either putting her down or amputating her front left leg which would give her some time since the cancer had spread to her lungs. It was a difficult decision. She had the surgery. Doctor said this would give her 3-6 months at the most. After recuperating and showing great result, adjusting and adapting to being a #tripawed as Rob lovingly described her, it became evident to Rob that she wasn't done. Bella was still fighting and facing life head on. This was when he decided to embark on a journey from his hometown in Nebraska and discover his country, its nature and its people with his best friend.

Since then they have on an incredible journey, traversing across the country, national parks, country side, lakes and mountains...

Through the almost daily updates I not only saw the fighting and fun spirit of Bella, I also discovered the gem of a human being in Rob. His words carry such weight and shed light on life and living, love and giving and what it is to live truly, learning and coping through everyday struggles. He is also an amazing photographer and captures the essence of the moment and its beauty in all his pictures, whether of Bella or of nature and his fascination with doors.

As Rob goes through this difficult time, I offer my prayers and this dedication, to let him know what the epic journey of Rob and Bella has meant to me and to us all and to show that we will be here to support him, wherever he continues on his onward journey.

And to offer him solace that wherever Bella is, she is now free of pain, and like I shared in a message to him, she might just stumble into my mother who loved her pets and might enjoy being patted for hours by her.

©Ranjan Moirangthem

#RobAndBella #GoBellaGo #TeamBella #WahaiWakhalWahang

THERE ARE GOOD PEOPLE IN THIS WORLD. ONE OF THEM JUST HAPPENS TO BE MY SISTER!

There are good people in this world. They are not hard to find. They are simply not good at being found. They do not hog the limelight. They simply get on with their lives and carry on as they have always done. They are the least bothered about who are talking about them or not talking about them. But mind you, they are not unaware. In fact they are among the most aware of people you will ever come across in your life. Their awareness however, is not confined to the latest trends or gossips; rather they are oblivious to such ‘news’. Their awareness comes from knowing the people around them, the little things that can be done to spread a smile or ease some pain, believing that lending a helping hand is not a decision to make but an action to take, sharing lessons from their experiences to comfort and guide others is second nature to them.

Yes, there are good people in this world. One of them just happens to be my sister. She recently visited us in Delhi, to be able to celebrate her birthday and also Diwali with us. For most part she is like any other sister in the world; caring and protective, pampering and guiding and we also argue and debate, get upset and hurt. What sets her apart is the innate goodness in her, or maybe she imbibed it from mom; absorbing every little drop like the earth while we are more like rocks or sand. 

(My sister's birthday celebration: she turned... not saying! haha!)

She cares and it is not limited to her family or friends; she just simply cares. While most of us are restrictive or limiting in the way we deal with people around us, there are no borders when it comes to her caring. We have heard anecdotes of her experiences with strangers in her day-to-day life, and while we are always on guard, doubtful of people’s intentions, she somehow finds this invisible thread of humane connectivity with those she meets and it worries us (being overbearing and overprotective brothers that we are!) yet we are left wondering at her and secretly aspire to have such capabilities.

On one of her flights, she began conversing with her fellow passengers, among them a young man in particular. I had wondered about the update of her new friendship on Facebook and later realised it was the same guy. He told her about his visit and his girlfriend and how her birthday was coming up. He was at a loss and had no idea what to do or what to buy. Sister was in her element and told him to surprise her – take a day off, buy a gift and plan a surprise. He admitted to being no good at such things and I think she told him to buy flowers and chocolates if he cannot think of what she likes for a gift. He later introduced his girlfriend to her (over the phone or on FB) who thanked her for making her birthday special. Since then they have been in touch with each other. His then girlfriend has become his wife and they have recently welcomed a new member to their family.

She can talk! If you come across anyone who has met her, they can vouch for her ability to talk. It may tread on some bizarrely funny ideas, concepts or idle imaginations, or may throw down a guiding light on someone or something lost in their darkness, or may lift up spirits and cheer up sad hearts and souls, or bridge the gaps of awkward silences we have a habit of leaving in between conversations. Whatever shape or form, one thing stands out: it is never pretentious. This must be the reason why she can connect with so many different people.

During the last years of her stay in Singapore, we had gone to visit her. She was staying as a paying guest and the house owners were a family of three – husband, wife and their young daughter. It was at this time that the wife’s mother came to visit them from Chennai. Granny did not speak a single word of Hindi or English. Over the next few days, an unlikely friendship developed between her and my sister. We would often wonder and even comment on how they managed to communicate with each other. Imagine our surprise when they went out shopping. It was a sight to see them cooking a meal together in the kitchen, each speaking a different language, heavily gesticulating, smiling and laughing. A year later, she invited my sister for a family wedding in Chennai. Sister accepted as it would mean revisiting the erstwhile Madras city where she was born. She is still in touch with the family much like the way she has kept in touch with the people in her life, even her old primary school friends.

As we geared up for her arrival, on the eve of her flight landing here, brother and I were discussing about her trouble with excess baggage. It is a sight of wonder if you ever find her travelling light! Surely, the next day as my brother waited for her at the gate, he saw her barely managing to push a cart loaded with luggage. How much have you brought? My brother remarked. She said, “Arrey! This is not mine. This is uncle’s and auntie’s luggage.” It came as no surprise that she had made an uncle and an aunt of the old couple she met on her flight. They were struggling with their luggage and she helped them. They even offered her and my brother a drop back home. But my brother had already booked a cab.

Like anyone else, she has her dreams. Her dreams are never materialistic; if they are it is because someone else associates closely with those ‘materials’. Like any dream, the path to its fruition comes with its own troubles and hindrances. She has encountered several on her way. What helps her is of her own making too; her steely determination and unwavering perseverance.  It is because of this that she has achieved what she has today. Unlike her, most of us lack the sheer passion and drive, walking sluggishly towards our dreams; some of us have already given up on our long held dreams. Life and its many diversions muddle our vision and weaken our resolutions.

Dreams never cease to be born. As we grow and evolve, they take shape in the new us and new dreams are born. She is now following her new dream and like any other time, it has brought some obstacles and problems along with it. There are always moments of doubt and clarity we experience in everything we do. She has gone through some really low phase and some remarkable high points. She is continuing her journey and we are fully supporting her. She believes in hard work but she is practical too. It has worked out well all these years and it will do her good in future as well.

And as I sit alone in a crowd of my office colleagues, I realize that I have learned so much from her. If I am still carrying on with my writing, even if not as diligently as I would have liked to, it is because by just observing the way she lives I get an unknown yet familiar strength within me to keep on persisting and walking towards my dream. That is the sign of good people. They are those who inspire others around them, just by living.

Love you sis. Always be you. Always be inspiring.

MY 10 MOST FAVORITE BOOKS. (OKAY, IT'S WAY MORE THAN 10, BUT I COULDN'T HELP IT!)

Recently I was tagged on Facebook by a friend to name ten of my favorite books; the ones that I go back to and have been life-changing in some way or the other. It scared me. Some books came to mind but with each passing moment, the list was growing and I could not get myself down to write just ten. So, I procrastinated. Maybe in a day or two, I thought. Then before I could get to it, another friend tagged me to do the same. I read a few books in her list which I had missed and I wondered how anyone could keep the list to just ten. Somehow, I began my list in complete earnestness. I got to about twenty plus books. Now, I just had to rely on my editing skills to get the list done. Just then I get a notification from a third friend who had tagged me. I just laughed. On one hand I was glad that my friends know that I love to read and were interested to see my list. On the other hand I was struggling to get my list done - some books inspired the writer in me, some helped me get through life's funny phases, some deeply touched me. So, how do I choose?

Finally I decided to go about it in this way:

Here's a list of books that introduced themselves to me during my formative years, and in some way contributing to my love for reading and creating a foundation for story-telling and my aspiration to become a writer. Most of these books were part of school and college curriculum since growing up we did not have bedtime story sessions; something I would love to do with my children if I become a father someday.

• David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
• The Coral Island - R M Ballantyne
• Robinson Crusoe - Daniel Defoe
• Treasure Island - Robert Louis Stevenson
• Little Women - Louisa May Alcott
• Animal Farm - George Orwell
• The Time Machine - H G Wells
• Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
• Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
• Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte

And below is the list of books which focuses more on those works which affected me not just with its story-telling but inspires me, and can easily be called as a list of literary aspirations. 

• To Kill A Mockingbird – It seemed to take no time for me get lost in a world created by Harper Lee and be immersed in the characters. I have always said that if I do become a father one day, I would love to have a daughter and I can attribute the beautiful relationship between the father and the daughter for my aspiration. 

• One Hundred Years of Solitude – For some odd reason, it took me back to my hometown, a small village called Sugnu in Manipur. The childhood years in the village which in memory is as mystical and as mythical as the one I was reading about and coming from a joint family, with just close relatives running to near about hundred; the drama unfolding in the pages seemed so real and true to life. 

• Lust for Life – A biographical novel based on Vincent van Gogh by Irving Stone. I read this in Shillong, and it just overwhelmed me. The struggles we read or hear about was just the surface of what he faced in his life and yet he continued on – because to him if he didn’t paint, there was no other purpose in his life and an artist must fulfill his purpose regardless of the outcome of his work.  

• The White Tiger – Read this on the subway and completed it one night on my way back home. The train was almost empty. I had just finished and I was so high (not literally, but literarily). I wondered how on earth Aravind Adiga got the idea of a character like Balram, the protagonist. 

• Frankenstein – Reading this book was an eye-opener for me. The notion or the idea of Frankenstein I had, bombarded through all the different media, was laid to rest. This is a masterpiece by Mary Shelley, so misunderstood and misinterpreted. 

• Never Let Me Go – I was lucky to find a hardcover edition of this book in a sale. It was all that and more than what I had expected from Ishiguro. I had deliberately delayed watching the movie adaptation, shunning out all reviews or specials that came on TV. One of the rare cases when I loved both the film and the book.

• The Alchemist - Coelho is probably my most read author. So, it was hard to choose just one, but first love won.

• Buying a Fishing Rod for my Grandfather – The best thing about this collection is that Gao Xingjian tells his tales like an instance. He simply captures the moments – just those moments in their entirety.

• Unaccustomed Earth – The first time I read Jhumpa Lahiri and it is no wonder why she is loved. The underlying sense of losing or having lost something irreplaceable (and in one instance finding it again) is expressed in such a smooth transition between the present and the past and through one character and the other; I just marveled at the writing.

• Nocturnes – Perhaps the only other author after Coelho whose works I have been devouring like a man possessed. Ishuguro is one writer I have come to identify the most with. I read this book in a library, going almost every evening to finish the book. I had to stop after every story before I could continue to the next. One story inspired a poem I wrote in a borrowed piece of paper in the library. 

Nope. It doesn't end here. To conclude a few notable mentions:

• Norwegian Wood - Planning to read more of Murakami; already have a few of his other titles. 
• The Zahir – This one comes close second among Coelho’s work for me.
• Catch 22 – Read it when I first came to Delhi. Experienced the hot and humid summer in the city while reading this gripping novel by Joseph Heller.
• The Charioteer – Mary Renault: I found the book in a random book sale. It is a very old edition. The combination of the subject matter written by a female author caught my eye. A great war romance.

I have not read many books from the North-east or by North-eastern authors. Fortunately the two books that I've read have been remarkably good. 

• Lunatic In My Head – Anjum Hasan: It is set in the 90’s in Shillong, the time I first came to the city and learned to live and call it a home. The places and the atmosphere very aptly captured.
• Chocolate Guitar Momos – Kenny Basumatary: It must be perhaps the only novel that made me laugh a lot. It is like reading a well-made rom-com movie in words. 

There are a lot many classic and contemporary authors I have not been able to read as yet. So, need to pick up the pace and get reading a lot. Most probably start the Ayn Rand book which I bought a couple of years back and still lay untouched among several other books I cannot resist buying but get left behind unread due to my erratic reading discipline. I guess most of you bookworms can sympathize with me. 

MOVIE REVIEW: AFRICA UNITED (2010) - A JOURNEY OF AFRICA WITH THE RIGHT MIX OF FUN, ADVENTURE, REALITY & FOOTBALL

(www.africaunitedmovie.com)

Africa United, first feature film by Debs Gardner-Paterson is heartwarmingly hilarious, humorously thought-provoking, fantastically realistic and unassumingly hopeful. It is a story about a group of young children in Rwanda undertaking a cross-country trip to make it to the inauguration of the South Africa 2010 World Cup football.

The movie starts with Dudu who is a young football enthusiast and lives in the slum with this younger sister, Beatrice. He is friends with a young, talented and aspiring footballer Fabrice, who gets selected for the trials to be a part of the Africa United Team for the World Cup inauguration ceremony. His mother, however, is not keen on his inclinations towards football. So, without telling her, Fabrice along with Dudu and his sister head towards the venue. But they end up in a different country and miss the trial. Their only hope now is to get to South Africa for the inauguration. What follows is a long journey through different countries which reveals them to different situations, some of which get out of control. They meet George and Celeste under such circumstances during the cross-country adventure.

Dudu is confident, creative, resourceful and unflinchingly optimistic. It is he acting as Fabrice’s self-appointed manager who leads the team on their journey, sometimes with disastrous results. Fabrice is talented but lacks confidence. Beatrice is kind, generous and hopes to become a doctor someday. George is learning to cope with his traumatic past, with much help from the group. Celeste is self-assured and hopeful despite her circumstances. Together they are a formidable group, taking on a mammoth task.

The story is interspersed with a tale narrated by Dudu to the others, in the form of animation and mirrors their own story but presented as a fantastical tale, a testimony to Dudu’s fertile imagination. The young actors breathe live into their roles bringing believability and an endearing quality to their performances.

The adeptly written original screenplay by Rhidian Brook takes you through an interesting journey of Africa. From poverty to AIDS, from young war soldiers and terrorism to child bride and prostitution – serious topics are touched upon in an intelligent and entertaining manner, almost as matter-of-fact as we would in real life.

With the Brazil World Cup 2014 round the corner, if you are on a lookout for anything and everything football and are leaning towards the world of movies to add some fuel to that excitement, be sure to watch Africa United. 

Why I Cannot Imagine A World Without A Coldplay Song

(Members of Coldplay, courtesy www.coldplay.com) 

The sound of music permeates all aspects of our existence. In fact, music is a crucial part of our existence today. We wake up, we jog, we work, we travel, we eat, we sleep and we even talk with music in our ears. And it’s not just one single kind of music. There are as many types of music, if not more, as there are emotions. With new and upcoming artists experimenting with different sounds/genres, new forms of music are being created as well. Being surrounded by so many different artists, it is hard to be influenced by just a single kind of music or to be exclusive to one particular band/genre. But there will definitely be that one artist/band we identify with the most. Someone whose songs sound and speak like the way it would have had we been able to do so.

That someone for me is Coldplay and the voice of Chris Martin. The first time I heard Coldplay (and saw them, actually just Chris Martin) was when the music video of ‘Yellow’ was played on a music channel. I was surfing the channel and saw this somewhat weird looking fellow crooning away and stopped to listen and see how the video was going to end. It ended with a sunrise that gave birth to a musical association which is still going strong.

One cannot deny the effect a Coldplay song can have. Whether it is The Scientist, Trouble, Warning Sign, Yellow, Lost, Speed of Sound, Fix You, Lost, Violet Hill, Paradise or Every Teardrop… the effect is real and deep. One song or the other has resonated with us and led us through our heart breaks or rough patches in our lives. A Coldplay song no matter how it sounds, whether ecstatic, painful, hopeful or festive, never exists in vain.

I remember taking a long walk in the rain to my office, getting completely soaked while listening pensively to a Coldplay song like We Never Change, A Rush of Blood, 42 or What If. I have shed a few tears listening to some other songs like Warning Sign, Trouble, The Scientist or Fix You, contemplating about a lover or a friend or someone I lost. Then there are those which renewed the love in me like Green Eyes, Yellow, In My Place or Strawberry Swing, as if falling in love for the first time. Not being a heavy metal fan, I used to envy those who would bob their heads in tandem with the music. But then I did the same with my own Coldplay songs, banging my head to the Speed of Sound or to the tick-tock of Clocks or more recently dancing away to the drum beats of Every teardrop. Pick up a moment from my life and most definitely there will be one Coldplay song or other that will define that moment for me.

Over the years, the sound of the band has developed and evolved, especially with their most recent albums. Many hardcore fans of the original, or should I say earlier sound of the band have complained about the band changing drastically. I agree they sound a lot different from their earlier albums. But I don’t believe it is to such a great extent and so abruptly that they have completely lost their identity.

Change is something that is bound to happen. We cannot resist it. Each individual goes through changes in their lives resulting in certain changes in the way they look at things or the way they feel or act. I certainly have changed a lot since the time I first heard ‘Yellow’ and I am sure the band members and especially Chris must have gone through a few (not necessarily similar) changes  along the way as well. And it reflects in their consecutive albums. There is always a risk involved with trying out something new. But that cannot mean that one should stick to the same old stuff regardless of thinking and feeling differently. An artist who never risks, risks becoming stagnate and obsolete.

(Cover Art of Ghost Stories, courtesy www.coldplay.com)

Come May 19 and their new album Ghost Stories will be out. They have already released a few tracks (Midnight, Magic, A Sky Full of Stars) and two music videos (Midnight and Magic). As of now, Magic is turning out to be the swan song for me, especially with the beautiful music video shot in black and white with Ziyi Zhang.

After the songs were released, I read a fan saying the band is no longer the same. But for someone like me, who cannot imagine a world without a Coldplay song, I am already falling in love with the magic of their latest tracks.

...................

Coldplay official website: www.coldplay.com

Pre-order the album (out on 19th May, 2014)

- iTunes http://smarturl.it/ghoststories
- CD http://smarturl.it/ghoststoriescd
- Vinyl http://smarturl.it/ghoststoriesvinyl

Fear Of Losing You, Mom

Days go by like they always did. But with each day I fear I may be losing you. Slowly and in uncertain ways. The memories of our times together and the moments which made my day are fading away it seems. I try to recall some instances sometimes and I am unable to remember the details which were once at the back of my head. All the details are falling short and missing a piece or two. Perhaps that's also one of the reasons why I gather any photograph I find of you and keep it with me, because I fear someday I might just forget how you looked like as well. I know that would really be the end of me.

When I went back home the last time I stayed there for almost three months. Everything has changed. The house we lived in has been rebuilt again and a building stands in its stead. Even though I stayed in the house made on the same grounds we build our home, it felt much colder and more of a stranger's than ours. The whole family has changed. So, what did I really expect? Looking back is not a good thing. Yet it gives me respite from dealing with the present situation and the awkwardness in the name of a family that ties me to the house.

I spent days just looking through old trunks and boxes where I had stored all my stuff this time as well. I cried like a baby when I went through the old notes and diaries. Since we (brother, sister and me) were all so young then, we didn't have an inkling of what was going on in your world or the adult world. I read about all the operations you had and how and what you felt as you went through each one of them. I cried for being such a child and not knowing the difference in the way your eyes spoke to us. The days I was playing around while you were feeling sad and lonely somewhere else. I know that I was a child and I could not do anything at all. But this unreasonable guilt gets hold of me sometimes and I can't escape it.

You have been the best mother one could ever ask for. You never let us know what all you were going through while we were growing up. You let us have a happy childhood. You let us have a happy memory of our times when we were young. It's impossible sometimes to imagine a person could do so much and sacrifice so much even with everything in her life almost compelling her to let go. But then you were a mother of three young children with unknown and uncertain future ahead of them and you needed to be there for them. I wish I could be a parent like that some day. To love someone else more than anything else in my life, including myself.

And I thank you for your love and for never letting go. Even though I am still at lost about you not being there anymore, I am thankful at least I had those great years with you. You held on till we were all grown-up and able to stand on our own feet. Then you slowly let go. I saw it coming but I was always in denial. And my denial stole away the last few days I could have spent with you, lying next to you and telling you stories like you told me when I was young, till you fall asleep and enter the dream world.

Love you and miss you mom.

Housefull Memories

The way time flies. The way it seems it was just yesterday. And the way it feels how soon it has ended. Things change. Sometimes so fast we are left wondering if at all it did. Sometimes so slow we never realise it has.

I am sitting alone in a corner of the house I made a home in for over 5 years, with just a bag to carry the few things still remaining, while the empty spaces around me overpower my senses. I always thought how much sentimental can one get about a non-living thing like a house or a dark spot on a wall. Much too much. As I was talking to a friend about how perfect our memories will always be, because they remain the same, I felt the change sink in. This house is going to be a memory now. The moment I step out the chapter will be closed.

Five years is a long time. Yet it all comes down to this moment. I look at the empty walls and the empty floor. There was once a table there. I used to place my books there. I danced my 'funny dance' out there on my sister's birthday. I scolded my pet dog here for chewing the slippers. I stood outside on the balcony many a night when I was feeling low. I cried myself to sleep on the bed which used to be here, after I woke up from my sleep, terribly missing my mom. There were ribbons and paper flowers on the wall there on my surprise birthday party my sister organised where all my close friends dropped by.

How can I not get sentimental then, when there's so much to remember and cherish?

It's time now I pick up my things and head to the new place I would soon learn to call home. After all, not all change is bad, most turn out better than we hoped for.