67

Dear Readers, 

                     Daughters are such darlings! Paternal love is most affectionately and warmly reciprocated by the fairer sex and one is moved to notice tokens of such love scattered here and there. No matter how ordinary or minuscule they deceitfully appear to be in the first glance, on a closer look, one gets an idea of the unfathomable bottom of that expansive and mysterious ocean.

              A few days ago, I saw a picture of an old man on Facebook. I was awe-struck by the handsomeness and flair of that personality. The writer within was at once drawn by the history and imagination of that imposing persona and within a fraction of a second, stories started building up around him. That man was seated in a plush ambiance of a Golf Course Club lobby with a lot of wood and crispest neatness enveloping him. Later, I found out that the picture was taken by his youngest daughter. 

                      Only she could capture what I saw or rather, I could see all that love and beauty only through her eyes. I wanted to know this person's life and hear about the stories he has to tell which I imagine, would be nothing less than treasure troves of wisdom about living life as a bold provider of a happy family. Oh yes! but I would want one of his pretty daughters to sit beside him while he narrates them so that I can simultaneously see the shimmer of glint in her eyes for the man on whom she dotes truly....... 

                      

66

Dear Readers, 

                     Whosoever resides in India has some story or the other about his or hers history or origin. Last evening I was chilling out with a bunch of senior fellas. A group of studs who lead a full and adventurous life dedicated to travel and camping. It was such a feast to share their jokes, anecdotes and glory-tales. It was amidst such company that I got to know a person from Delhi. 

                  He was a well-read, well-traveled Jat man who hails from a place called Mongolpuri. He narrated several stories about his childhood and his experiences of growing in a Delhi that was much smaller than the current humongous metropolis it has become now. He told us that how many decades ago, the limits of Delhi's urban habitations was the Delhi darwaza and places like Munnirka, Chatarpur, Mehrauli, Mahipalpur etc were tiny villages dispersed across the countryside. Also, that he belonged to a sub-clan of Jats called Sikand which owes its name to a place called Shiv-khand in the Himalayas from where they migrated into the plains.
                      Later at night, the historical imaginations about Delhi of the past continued to frequent my mind. I remembered vaguely the fact that how Mongolpuri was itself inhabited by a colony of Mongols who were settled there by the Delhi Sultans to check the threat of Mongol invaders from the north-west. Imagine the season of November AD 1415,  one can see  Jats and Mongols of Mongolpuri marching steadily towards Tughlaqabad to enlist into the Imperial army of the Sultans. One among them happens to be the ancestor of my new friend......  

65

Dear Readers, 

                     It is so interesting at times to travel with people who are habitual conversationalists and are gifted with the art of talking for miles at length. Such people would never let a long unbroken spell of silence settle down between you and themselves at any cost. They are adept at weaving out one story from the other and by the time you adjust to the flow of thoughts, you are bombarded upon with the next volley of ideas, happenstances, events, opinions and the following train.

                        Though some people usually find this irritating and are prone to exhibit withdrawal symptoms on meeting such vociferous artists, I don't mind their company once in a blue moon. It has so occurred with me that my experiences with jabbering kings or queens have been rather illuminating. I have always treated such souls with utmost patience and care to the extent that I fish for new ideas and pioneering feats even in their hasty gibberish. 

                      For me, the fascination for them lies in their sponge like quality to get you thinking and talking in the direction in which they want. This is no less an art which calls for meticulous honing of ones skills. Quite often, while being led by such souls into intellectual foreplay, I have often come to terms with my own dormant thoughts and plans. I see these people's flirtatious insinuations as sowing of seeds of future research and activity in average minds like mine..... 

64

Dear Readers,

                    Reading history is like falling in love or like experiencing this tender feeling so romanticised in literature and entertainment. You have your own set of questions, your own set of 'expected' answers, the set of real answers, the dilemmas, the insecurities, the uncertainties and the strong chances of you figuring it all wrong just when it seems to you that ah! Finally, I got it right!

                      I was going through the travel account of one Pietro Della Valle, an Italian traveler who was a globe-trotter in the sixteenth century ( yes, he managed to do that even then!). He had visited places like Constantinople, Aleppo, Hormuz, Baghdad, Goa, Calicut and other such exotic locations. As I lay enveloped in the love of History, a question struck my mind, the one which does so quite often. Were we better off in the past or is the present age our best living so far?    

                 How charmingly delightful it would have been to explore such places in their pristine beauty and nature? Is it a greater sensuous pleasure to walk along the boulevard of sixteenth century Panjim after a luncheon with a Portuguese aristocrat than racing around in a luxury SUV in Vegas? These doubts are raised not against a solely Epicurean or aesthetic mind-frame but against a background of satiate living. Which way of living would bring us humans more satisfaction?...