The Mystery Behind the Name

Being a college student, travelling is a fact of life. One that I am more than happy to announce and accept. Its a freedom that sets free inhibitions and fears. I travel a lot by the local buses and auto-rickshaws. And as a result, like every subway, tram and bus rider, I meet the city's inhabitants of every status. We buy the ticket from the same conductor, pay in the same form, look out the same rectangular windows and sit in the same seats. Yet, we don't open our mouth. We happen to communicate through only our eyes and subtle gestures and body languages. and all this with separate background tracks going through each of our eardrums. Unaware of each other yet fully aware of our presence.

                                                  One day, I took out my earphones. Rolled them up and tucked them inside my bag as gracefully as I could with the traffic of Bangalore playing ferociously against me what with the bus swaying, like we were in star wars. I could hear it all. The honks, the engine, the conductor asking for money, the hustle bustle on the streets, the dogs barking maniacally and temple music coming from some hidden corner of the city. But the loudest was every body's utter oblivion to all this. The oblivion to what it means to truly be there. Probably because the unknown is a scary place to be. you don't know what to expect, how circumstances will play out and what you would look like in each of them. Its easier just to keep to yourself, stay in the safe side. But be brave! Talk to that vendor who comes to yours front door everyday to give you the milk. Chat with your beautician. Find out if the security guards, daughter is well or talk to that dadi (grandma) that says hi to you every morning while on her walk. To live fully to each moment, you must connect. It'll probably start out shaky, and awkward. It will only lead to good things. With this thought in mind, I spoke to a woman standing next to me in the bus the other day. She seemed to be a few years older than me and we'd looked at each other a few times already and passed weak smiles. We ended up talking extensively about her job and what she thought of the pollution in Bangalore and how our country has every potential to becoming no lesser than US and China in infrastructure. I gained something that day, when i unplugged myself. I gained a new friendship and insight. I gained optimism and a great debate. Intellectual. We need only get out of our bubble to meet the spectacular world around us, ever moving and colorful.

The mystery behind the name of this blog - A Desi Praheli - is an identity. My identity. Praheli means enigma. I don't think I'm an enigma because i think myself bigger and better than others. Its just that i wouldn't see myself any other way. And neither should you. Each of us are our own enigma, our own hero. A miracle to be shared and celebrated.