A tribute to Maya Angelou - The Phenomenal Woman

My morning was saddened by the news of Maya Angelou's demise. I have been an ardent fan of the lady since my early teenage years. I remember reading her autobiography - "I know why the caged bird sings" at an age where a lot of the things narrated in the book didn't make a lot of sense to me. But time after time, I kept going back to this back wondering how a woman can live to survive, smile and inspire despite of all that she has suffered and endured. As a reader of the book, it may take us few days or a week or a month to go through the pages, imagine the scenarios and estimate the book's overall impression in the end but with "I know why the caged bird sings", I remember returning to the cover of the book every few paragraphs to reaffirm to myself that this really is an autobiography of a real woman. Each time I finished reading this book, my mind raced to find one appropriate adjective that would justly define the level of respect I had in my heart for her.

Lala's confessions : Being "Miss Hot Mess!"

Gone are the days when I would say sorry for just being who I am. It took me long 25 years to accept that the way I am is just who I am. Blame it to the conditioning done by Bollywood movies, American serials or early corporate world exposure, the fact remains that today I am the best version of me till date. I have grown up to become such a "hot mess".

Lala's favourite quotes

As I am typing this post, its raining heavily in Bordeaux. This is the kind of weather when I tend to connect with myself on a deeper level. With the sound of the splashing rain drops in the background, I often find myself wondering about all the mystery that "Life" is and all that is further more mysterious within life. There is a thin line between life and all its finest treasures turning into vicious traps. But how can we tell if what we are seeking will turn out to be a treasure or a trap? While the comfort exists in the knowledge that nothing lasts forever, be it happiness or sorrow, who decides how long will it be before the season will change again? They say you must listen to your heart but than would you care listening to your heart one more time after it landed you in the unfamiliar terrains where you can't tell which direction you are headed towards?

For the love of Ghazals

I really admire well meaning poetry but "Ghazals" being a piece of rhyming poetry in complicated Hindi or Urdu never made any sense to me. While people around me would discuss passionately the great ghazals sung by the "Ghazal Maestro Jagjit Singh", I would sit back quietly and wonder what is it about ghazals that appeal so much to them. To me, It was simply some sad poetry sung in a very classical way where the subject suffering in love would explain his emotions in complicated metaphors. I always told people out loud that I don't like ghazals because of their base concept lying in the fact that love is a painful thing. They would look back at me kindly and would say, "Lala, you will appreciate ghazals once you will grow up." For a long time in my life, I never gave ghazals a chance to make any impression on me. I would switch off the radio channel if they were playing ghazals and my own mp3 player never had the room to accommodate this genre. This is how I used to be till I was 21.