I was 10 when I came across for the very first time in my life small brown diaries among the multitude of books at home which were the remnants from my early childhood in Gwalior, Madhya Pradesh. At that point of time I was quite overwhelmed when I realized that this was the daily journal maintained by the 16 year old self of my father who had passed away a couple of years ago. For me it was like Dadda was talking to me from beyond this world. My father’s premature demise quite early in my childhood had created a certain kind of halo around him. I was much in awe of his imposing personality when elders at that time would recount with great pride his academic brilliance and prowess in sports.
After overcoming the initial emotional turmoil I slowly started to get a drift of it. What struck me most was that he was like any other boy his age. The same travails, the same vulnerabilities, the same self doubts, the concerns of the future that every adolescent goes through at that age all along trying to navigate through everyday life. I also got a sneak peak into his upbringing. Understandably I had no recollection of my grandfather because he had passed away a few years before my birth. I began to see in a new light the times that I had spent with my paternal grandmother in Jose Dale because where the journal was set on. My grandparents were like any other guardians of 4 brothers living in a house. This offered glimpses of my uncles as kids, their camaraderie, their sibling rivalry , their extended family meet ups and what not. There was a gap in these journals when at the age of 19 he travelled to Europe as part of the YMCA(Young Men's Christian Association). It was quite a let down that the journals explained in quite detail the run up to the trip and then went blank. Subsequently, it restarted from the time when he returned.
I was very much moved by many of these incidents. A memorable one would be where my father was very rash when it came to riding his bicycle. One fine day he had a close call with a bus when he escaped by a whisker. Unfortunately one of our relatives was in that very bus and this information got relayed to my grandfather who berated him for his recklessness. Looking back this is exactly what Ambrose(my younger brother) was at that age; the apple indeed doesn’t fall far from the tree. These anecdotes were quite reassuring to me to say the least because I had been an average joe until then. Many a times I was skeptical if I could live up to the high benchmark set by my father. Case in point cracking the UPSC civil services exam at 21 is no small feat. These instances definitely steeled my resolve. Being an average student until my tenth board exams and topping the class was testimony to the fact that I was indeed inspired by these journals.
All this prompted me to start writing a daily journal. My first journal entry was on my 11th birthday. The fact of the irony is that I am recounting my first journal entry two and a half decades post on that very same day. I wrote a bit in the first year but gradually fizzled out as I approached my pressure cooker years(grades 10 to 12) when I totally forgot about this activity. At that point of time it is a no brainer to note that I lacked discipline and focus. I had been a sporadic writer until I was in college. I restarted this habit and with a bit of earnestness followed it up until a couple of years after college; then the thread was broken.
There had been a paradigm shift after every break in the thread of journal writing. When I started off in school it was on a day to day basis and emphasis was on chronology. In college it was about chronology on a week on week basis. In addition I used to reflect a bit about life in general giving insights into my thought process at that point of time. After college for the first couple of years it evolved to month on month before finally metamorphosing to year on year. Somewhere along the line chronology went for a toss and contemplation took prominence. There were a couple of exercises that I undertook to spruce it up for instance from 1996 till date every leap year there is an entry for Feb 29 just to get a feel as to how life has changed in the 4 years. Additionally most of the years towards the end I try to recap the entire year gone by on a month on month basis.
Off late I have felt the need to write about things that occurred in the near past rather than the present which has been quite invigorating. Last year my journal writing received a shot in the arm during my sojourn in Germany as part of an official assignment thanks to Minducrv. Suddenly after work(feierabend in German) I would have more ‘me time’. Rather than remain shut in the studio apartment I would visit the library within the complex and pen a few lines on a daily basis reminiscent of the time I started writing. In fact I had written more in these months than in the last 5 years. Incidentally it was 3 years back when I was on another official assignment to Hong Kong that I had restarted journal writing after a while. Believe me it is quite an exhilarating feeling to pen your thoughts overlooking the majestic Hong Kong harbour. I recollect that one of the cold Sundays I was closeted in that very room writing my journal for the entire day because of the inclement weather in the winter of 2015 .It was a strange coincidence that the diary that I started in Hong Kong was finished in Germany. I have no clue as to when or where the new diary that I had started in Germany will end. But it is quite a thrilling prospect just to think of the myriad possibilites.
view from my writing table in HK
I am a prolific writer whenever I am alone and in a reflective mood. You will be quite amused to know the kind of places where I feel like writing. It could range from the coffee shop in the Mumbai international airport or the airport hotel in Abudhabi. It has sort of become a routine now that I would pen something when I am waiting to board a flight be it in Dusseldorf, Hong Kong, Mumbai, Delhi, Trivandrum or Cochin. The key is to find a place where there is less crowd meaning less noise so that you can focus and let your thoughts rip. What is even more interesting is that I have penned lines even in moving trains during my solitary 30 hour trips between Mumbai and Trivandrum.
Just last week I was quite thrilled to lay my hands on the elusive journal of my dad from his time in Europe. I wish I had come across this earlier in life probably when I was in college which would have made it much more relatable. All said and done I have got a must visit place next time when I am in Europe. If only I had known a year back I could have got this off my bucket list already. Close to bedtime as I was engrossed on the experiences of my father in Taize, France my toddler walks in asking what I am reading. I pick him up in my arms and tell him that these lines were penned by his grandfather who he shares his name with.
Do you think that a circle has just been completed?
Well I definitely think so.
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