Of finding silence amid noise


I toss and turn on my bed. I feel slightly cold from the wind around me. I am staying at a resort, about 80 km away from Salvador, a Brazilian city in the state of Bahia, which is over 14,000 km from New Delhi, India. While I do this geographical math in my head, I toss and turn a little more. I check the time on my mobile. It’s 5.30 am! I look outside my window and it’s still a little dark, with the sun just about to pop up and say hi. I am amazed at how my eyes just popped open at this strategic time. I am not a morning person at all. But somehow, Bahia and the ocean around me has turned that around.

I try and dismiss this as a crazy coincidence and go back to sleep again. Only, I can’t. I see the crack of dawn from my window and can no longer stay indoors. Something tells me I need to smell the wind outside. I wake up, put on my shorts and running shoes and walk towards the beach. While I am getting ready, I notice a slight drizzle. Is it raining? How is that possible? The sun’s almost out and is shining bright! Perhaps the tropical weather here is trying to teach me a lesson on dual personalities. I grab my sunglasses as the rain stops as abruptly as it began.

I walk on a narrow, sandy path towards the ocean. I am engulfed with a slight sense of fear. I am a Piscean by birth. So if zodiac signs are to be believed, my personality should have an affinity for water. In a lot of ways, it does. I love being on the beach. The waves, the sea and the water bodies have the kind of soothing and calming effect on me, like nothing else (I have blogged about this before). But the water also scares me. The mighty power of the waves remind me of my mortality and insignificance as a human being. And deep waters can terrify a below average swimmer like me.

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South Atlantic Ocean, as viewed from a beach resort near Salvador, Bahia, Brazil

As I walk on the sand, maintaining a safe distance from the roaring ocean, I look around. I see no one anywhere nearby. No men, women, children or humanity around me. I see a strange looking bird that looks a lot like a vulture, staring back at me. I see a yellow and brown colored sparrow (or is it a humming bird?) fluttering around the edge of the waves. And I see these birds enjoying the solitude as much as I am. All alone on a long coastline far away from home, I have never felt more alive and aware of my existence.

I try to conquer my fear of being alone near the mighty waves and inch slightly closer to them. A big wave comes roaring ahead and I take a few steps back. It barely touches my ankles and runs away. The cold water touching my feet brings a smile on my face. I get a little more encouraged and inch closer. This time the wave is bigger, stronger and colder. They taste my weak knees and I scream with delight! Having tasted the salty water on my legs, I walk further down and hunt for a quiet spot.

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It’s strange that I am looking for a quiet spot at a space where there’s literally no one around. No noise. No people. No conversations. No words around me. And yet, I go looking for it. It is an eerie, yet liberating experience to be at a space that literally feels like in the middle of nowhere. The only consolation is the dry land. The horizon beyond it is endless and infinite. It is the loudest silence you will ever hear. And I soak it all in as the wind and waves roar ahead of me. I do manage to find a quiet spot. It’s inside me. And I realise I can revisit it any time I want. Amid all the noise. Amid all the conversations. Amid all the loud silences. All I need is some ocean, wind and strange looking birds. They remind me of Frida Kahlo’s memorable quote:  “It’s true I’m here, and I’m just as strange as you.”

The perks and perils of traveling (alone)


I have been a globetrotter for quite a while now. Running from one city to another, moving from one area to another, jumping sometimes from even one continent to another, life in the last few years have been quite a ride and I feel eternally thankfully for all the amazing travel opportunities it has thrown at me. However, travel isn’t always all glory and elegance personified. There are perks and there are perils and it is both that you must humbly experience as you embark on a new journey every single time. In either case, it impacts you in ways more than one.

I have been a traveller since a very young age and have developed a somewhat love hate relationship with it. My father always encouraged and planned family trips every vacation so the four of us (my parents, my sister and I) would get to spend some quality time away from our everyday life in a remote location. I have fond memories (and some awkward pictures) of families (with our extended family also joining us) coming together, laughing away and chatting about each others’ lives. And I cherish every single one of them, despite all my mood swings as a teenager, having violent relationships with cousins and being picky and choosy about who I’d tag along with. #Puberty

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Big family get together at Dimna Lake, Jamshedpur Jharkhand (India). Picture dated 2004

Traveling without my family and with friends, obviously, happened much later. Sometimes, these were pre-planned but mostly, they were spontaneous or decided in-the-spur of the moment. The Europe trip that happened in 2013 was one of the most memorable ones that I was lucky enough to be able to afford and be a part of. I have blogged about it before and had an amazing time reliving every single moment as I typed away my experience and all the knowledge that I gained as I embarked on a beautiful journey with some very beautiful people.

I have always viewed travel as something that becomes even more exciting when you are doing it with some good company. In fact, the perils can get overruled if you are with the right company, in my opinion. Almost each of my travel experience has led to a blog post because I learn so much when I travel with people and look at things from a different perspective (You can read all my travel posts here). A journey’s memory has a lot to do with who you share it with (even if it is yourself) and I am thankful to each and every one of the wonderful people with whom I discovered a new road, a new alley, a new shop or a new cuisine.

Travelling alone or on my own has never been a personal choice, despite getting ample of opportunities to act on it.  I have often wondered what stops me from pursuing them but it has been hard to articulate why I shy away from my own company in alien and unexplored places. The first solo travel that I do remember vividly is the one I undertook to go to Prague. It was my first solo and self funded (international) travel and I had butterflies, scorpions and worms in my stomach throughout the journey. I think I don’t trust myself or my instincts when it comes to travelling alone and relying only on my (limited) knowledge to undertake the journey, having no one else around me to put the blame on, if anything goes wrong.

And yes, things do go wrong. The recent trip to Istanbul was a testament to all things that can go wrong when you travel alone, even if you are prepared for the worst. One of the first setbacks came when my baggage didn’t arrive as I landed in Istanbul via Abu Dabhi. Several angry tweets tagging the concerned airline led to a faster response and I received by beloved and trusted old rucksack 24 hours after I landed in an alien city with literally nothing else to wear. I was so eager, energised and determined to discover the city on the day I arrived, I went ahead to explore the Museum of Innocence battling my jet lag, lack of clean clothes and general tiredness. I think I wanted to get it out of my system. Visiting the museum was my biggest priority and I had been planning and living that moment even before I knew that life would give me an opportunity to visit Istanbul in the course of my lifetime. So, taking the tram to an unpronounceable destination, walking from the stop to the museum, using sign language and hand gestures to ask the way to the Müzesi seemed like a really small price to pay for the mesmerising experience that was to follow.

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En route The Museum of Innocence in Istanbul city, Turkey

I also got the lovely privilege and opportunity to ride on the Bosphorus in the company of an equally enthusiastic traveler who I befriended during this trip. And the experience surely was memorable. To chat about our lives, to let the wind remind us of its power and to let the seagulls gape at us in awe. We both agreed that the wind, the sea and the water makes us contemplative and think about things we wouldn’t normally take the time out to be pensive about.

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View from a boat on the Bosphorus strait, a water body that divides the European and Asian side of Istanbul, Turkey

But I did know that I wasn’t done with the city and that I wanted to discover more. I wasn’t sure with whom and hence my own company felt like the next best bet. On a particularly non moody day, I decided to explore Gülhane Park, an urban park known to be one of the oldest and largest public parks in the city of Istanbul. I walked the entire stretch of the park. I observed the lovers around me: some shy, some awkward, some meeting and touching each other for the first time (one could tell). I let the wetness of the grass feel my naked feet. I chose a particularly large tree’s shade to sit under and read a few more pages from Orhan Pamuk’s book. I soaked the smell of the bees, birds and leaves around me some more. And I tried to feel satiated with all of this. But somehow, I didn’t.

I am not a very big selfie fan. I probably get awkward clicking my own pictures, especially in a public place, guilty of elevating myself to that level of importance. But on that particularly unsatisfied day, I figured a selfie would somehow validate this experience. I figured a picture that has me with the park on the backdrop would add value to this “solo” experience. I figured I needed a picture that had me in it too, so people would believe I was not just the onlooker but a part of the look. I wasn’t just gazing; I was the gaze too. And I did end up taking a couple of them (I am too shy to share them publicly).

As I briefed through the pages of Pamuk’s words under that tree in Istanbul, a friendly cat came near me and sniffed my Indian scent. Confused by the difference, he nibbled on the grass around me a bit and left me alone again. Seagulls came (dangerously) close to people in the park, including me. And I feared for my handbag and mobile around them. But they didn’t bother my solitude much either. There were couples, families, photographers and locals all around whose gaze rested on me briefly as they crossed my path. Some seemed to admire my confidence. Some probably found something interesting in the way I looked or dressed. Some simply wondered if they’d do something similar: getting all dressed up and coming to an unexplored territory of an alien city. They could tell. I was an alien. I still will be. Even if I go back. In search of the cats, seagulls, trees and barks.

Of Serbia, staff meet and a supernatural connection


I double-check my e-ticket and passport. I count the number of baggage I am carrying. I chew some gum to calm myself down and avoid the restlessness and jitteriness I am feeling deep inside. As I take the cab from my home to the airport at midnight to catch a 4 am flight to Belgrade via Moscow, I wonder how uncanny all this sounds when I think about it in my head. A couple of weeks ago, I would not have even imagined such an event happening in my life. And today, here I was, travelling to Europe again. This time, for work. And that is exactly what made me wonder just how uncanny it all was.

As I arrive at the airport and collect my boarding pass, I realize I have a business class ticket. Since I could not take the flight on the day as was scheduled before (owing to visa troubles), my flight was rescheduled to the next day. Turns out there were no other tickets available except those in the business class section. It’s amazing how disappointment of not getting the visa on time turns to euphoria on discovering that I had been upgraded to first class. I collect my boarding pass as well as a coupon that apparently entitled me to first class lounge services. I sheepishly ask the lady who hands me the coupon: “Um…what exactly is that? Sorry, it’s my first time on business class!” She smiles and directs me to the lounge, where I discover comfortable recliners, massage centres, cyber café and, most importantly, free food. A buffet of assorted fruits, vegetables, dishes, snacks, juice and wine. As I pick and fill my plate, I wonder if this is for real.

I board a 6.5 hour flight from New Delhi to Moscow, while absorbing all the exquisite facilities that are offered to me on business class—welcome drink, comfortable pillows and cushions and blankets, a fancy travel kit and a three-course meal served on my seat (pity I am a vegetarian). An hour’s wait in Moscow followed by yet another 3 hour flight to Belgrade, again on business class with almost all the aforementioned facilities. Covering 10 hours, two time zones and over 6000 miles, I finally land in the beautiful country of Serbia. A kind man stands on the exit of a crowded Belgrade airport holding a placard that screams my name. For a moment, I feel too insignificant to deserve that!

I introduce myself to the kind man, who welcomes me to Beograd and escorts me to his BMW taxi. No, this isn’t a luxury I am exclusively entitled to; this is a luxury all taxi users in the city get. Most of the taxis in the city are BMW’s and Mercedes. After a 20 minute smooth ride on wide roads and bridges that oversee river Danube, I reach my ‘boatel’—a hotel that rests on a gigantic boat, of sorts. Every time an actual boat comes anywhere close to the boatel, the waves cause the boatel to swing making you feel like you’re on a Kashmiri houseboat. Soaking in this incredibleness and still unable to believe that I am in a country I had barely any knowledge of, I take a quick shower and freshen up to reach the destination of the staff meeting—the purpose for which I have been invited oh-so-gracefully and travelled so far for. I look at my image in the mirror for the 89th time just to confirm if I don’t look too over-excited, under-confident or unprepared. I head towards the meeting venue.

Sunset on the boatel

Sunset on the boatel

A short taxi ride later, I arrive at a giant building. I am told that the staff meeting is happening on the 16th floor. I gasp in amazement and take the elevator. The door opens and there are six young, smiling and brightly coloured women who cheer and shout at my arrival. I almost feel like a celebrity who isn’t aware why she is popular. We do a group hug and I instantly feel a connection with these amazing souls, who, in fact, I am meeting for the first time in my life. I had known their names and had briefly interacted with them over e-mail but this is the first time I have got the rare opportunity to link their profile pictures to their real selves. It feels surreal—to actually be able to meet them within a couple of weeks of e-interaction. These are women from all around the globe: Turkey, Australia, Cambodia, Botswana, Poland and Serbia. And now, India joins this colourful mix of people. I feel proud, responsible and hopeful for the next few days.

Since I had joined the meeting late, I am briefed about all that I have missed. I am also given gifts by my fellow team members: a special something that they have carried for each one of us from their home countries. It is beautiful and I am touched! I myself gift them my own jhumkas (earrings) and I am elated to see them wear it instantly. It makes me feel closer to them already. Sometimes, it is hard to believe that these lovely ladies are soon to be my colleagues. It feels like they are people I have met. Somewhere, sometime in some form or the other. Perhaps in a coffee shop. Maybe in a bar. Or a park, a library, a supermarket or a rally. They may not be familiar faces but there are familiar interests, common and strong linkages in our activism and politics of feminism and equal rights for all. With each of them, hired for a specific purpose, I feel there is so much to learn and unlearn from. Throughout the meeting period, I am overwhelmed and excited to realize how much there is to know and understand deeply. The variety of ideas and possibilities that are brought together on the table with the collective brains of seven individuals is quite mind-blowing.

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FRIDA staff. Picture courtesy FRIDA website: http://youngfeministfund.org/about-frida/staff/

I take part in each of the team building exercises. I learn a bit of Tai Chi, do some traditional Botswanaian dance, and make them dance to a Bollywood number. It’s an amazing mix of colours, cultures and cuisines. I make a note of my specific roles and responsibilities in this new job that sounds less of work and more of having fun and making sure that everyone else does too. I am nervous, excited and thrilled all at the same time. I am filled with hope that feminist activism around the globe continues to grow and shall never end. I bid a teary goodbye to all the new people I met. I bow my head in front of the solidarity that is built in such a short span of time. I smile as I return to my home. I smile as I relive each of these moments while typing them down. 🙂

Disclaimer: This post does not reflect the views and opinions of FRIDA | The Young Feminist Fund

Love, Liebe, Liebster


I begin this blogpost with a sincere apology for not being regular. Travelling. Working. Discovering. Breathing. Existing. And living. I have been doing it all and rather handsomely. In short, I have gathered plenty of colours that are dying to be spilled into stories that can be shared and read. But I have been rather lazy and unorganized in doing so. Hence the apology.

Thankfully, I got a very good reason to update. My friend and fellow blogger, Nupur (whose blog has the most awesome-st name, btw: ‘Tugging My Luggage‘) nominated me for something called the ”Liebster Award”. To be frank, I have no idea what this is about. But she nominated me. So my guess is it’s pretty huge. Many many thanks for the honour! The word liebster comes from liebe which is German for love. So I am already touched and humbled by the gesture. Danke! 🙂

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I have never looked at Colours on my palette (Have you liked it yet?) as a travel blog. I look it as a blog, yes. A medium of expression. Of thoughts. Words. Experiences. Discoveries. Inventions. Conversations. And stories. They all form the different colours of this palette. However, travel is an extremely crucial part of it. Most of my stories and experiences come from my travels. Fictional, imaginary, real and/or otherwise. I read a quote somewhere that aptly explains it all: “Travelling: It leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller.” 🙂

Continuing the tradition of all this ‘liebe’, I answer Nupur’s lovely questions in this post:

What got you hooked to travel?

I don’t really know the answer to that. I have travelled since a kid. Mostly with family members, as a child. More with friends, as I grow up. And occasionally, alone. As a girl from a small town, a large part of my childhood was spent in touring “bigger”, metropolitan cities, visiting my grandparents and planning family holidays. Today, I am hooked to travel for many reasons. One, it helps you switch off- a real art. Two, it helps you give time to yourself-something we often forget or ignore. Travel is an addiction because it helps us understand ourselves and the people around us much better. And it never ends. Both the travels and the learnings.

What is your favourite thing about travel?

That I get to meet and embrace multiple cultures, cuisines and colours. That I get to collect souvenirs(not necessarily material). That I get to switch off. That I get to discover and pen so many stories waiting to be told. In different narratives. From different perspectives. In different colours.

One place which you would love to return over and over again?

Nice Ville, South France

Puducherry, South India

Cherrapunjee, North East India

One place you would never return?

Vatican City on Christmas eve. Maddening crowd!

If you had to settle down in one place, which would it be?

I ask myself this question every single day! At the moment, I am thinking South Goa. A year ago, I would have said Kerala.

Which is your favourite travel photo?

So many! And so many more that are printed in my memory. But for the sake of answering this question, here’s one:

The break of dawn. Clicked in a small village in South Germany that goes by the name 'Unterjesingen Sandäcker'

The break of dawn. Clicked in a small village in South Germany that goes by the name ‘Unterjesingen Sandäcker’

What do you prefer to carry, hard copy books or e-books?

Hard copy. Always. It isn’t really reading if you can’t smell the pages.

What do you prefer, short term or long term travel?

Both, I guess. Depends on the company I travel with.

Which are your must have packing items?

Water bottle, diary, ink pen, a book to read, earphones, battery charger

How has blogging helped you?

It has helped me narrate stories in a way that doesn’t put the reader to sleep (hopefully). It has helped me connect to other fellow bloggers and travellers. It has helped in expressing myself better. Hopefully, the learning continues.

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Now that I have done my bit, I would like to nominate the following blogs:

Mindblogging @ My Will

Communique | Talking Loud

Rum Lola Rum

Bom Sight & Thought House

Heaven on Earth

Media. Social Issues. Agriculture. Feminism

A Reluctant Ombudsman

And here are my questions:

1) What has travel taught you?

2) One travel story that you never get tired of narrating?

3) What has been your cheapest and most extravagant travel experience?

4) What has been your worst travel experience?

5) One place that you haven’t been able to visit yet and would like to travel to? Why?

6) One place that you have visited and would like to travel again to? Why?

7) One unforgettable souvenir from your travels?

8) If you had all the money you need, what is the one place in this world that you would like to spend it on? 

9) A travel tip that you would like to share?

10) Why do you blog? 

Looking forward to some really interesting answers. Till then, keep travelling! 🙂

Liebster rules:

-Share your gratitude and link back the blogger who has nominated you

-Answer their 10 questions

-Nominate more blogs (10, if you can)

-Draft 10 questions of your own