I look at the trees during my morning walk, breathe in, exhale. Winter is approaching so the trees are mostly denuded of their leaves, yet stand tall and proud, challenging my own feelings at the sight of the changed landscape. We only see what we want to see, our minds cluttered with the weight of thousand thoughts, our vision blurred by countless distractions. With the uneven light of dark clouds filtering through what’s left of the leaves is perhaps a reflection of nature’s unabashed assertion that she’s in charge. 

I stand and gaze at the trees bordering the farmer’s field. For a few minutes, precious and transitory, the quiet of the landscape transforms into a world of words without words, the softness of unspoken whispers coming through. I listen, feel a smile appear on my face. It’s almost as if I have stepped into a secret world where I am the guest nature has kindly let in allowing me to look around with surprised enjoyment at the goings on of a mystery. I am forever transformed.

I leave with new energy urging me to climb another mountain, welcome another dawn.

Keep smiling, dear friends.
Purabi Sinha Das

“…in order to control myself I must first accept myself by going with and not against my nature…” from Bruce Lee’s never-before-published writing.
Martial Art has fascinated me although I could never see myself as a martial artist, no matter how much I tried that would not have happened. So, I devoted myself to observing it, taking note of the way the artists of martial art behaved on stage – the only way I could mentally participate.
Then I discovered the Samurai and Ninja Museum in Kyoto, Japan which houses rare pieces from the Edo period over 300 years old
With a special focus on the legendary samurai and ninja, this is a must-visit if you are into martial arts or like me, a keen observer.
Our guided tour was conducted in English by a young guide who with a touch of humour shared fascinating insights about Japan’s samurai and ninja eras. The sword was soul of the Samurai. Samurai had to be righthanded – hold the sword under the left arm, draw it out of its scabbard with the right, and fight.
I learned about samurai armour, Japan’s ancient hierarchical society, the role of shoguns or military leaders who governed Japan for centuries.
In addition to being a museum, this place is also interactive offering guests a rare opportunity to try their hand at shuriken throwing – the four point star every ninja carried as hidden weapon to throw against their enemy. The Japanese word “Shuriken” is made of three Japanese characters; “shu” (hand), “ri” (release), and “ken” (blade). All together, shuriken roughly translates to “sword hidden in the hand”.
Next, we were encouraged to dress up and transform into an authentic looking samurai or ninja. I chose to be a ninja with a dagger.
My interest in martial arts, as an observer, mind you, extends to a deep appreciation of our own classical Indian Kathakali which evolved in the 16th. Century out of the Kutiyattam tradition. With its elaborate costumes and makeup, gestures and choreography, Kathakali blends dance drama with martial arts. Once while journeying through a small village in Kerala my husband and I stumbled upon a gem of a Kathakali performance in the middle of a field where we sat under a canopy. The performers kindly allowed us to watch as they underwent the colourful facial makeup. Aah, the pleasures of travelling without an agenda.
Here I am sharing some photos I took plus one of me as ninja taken by my husband.

​Do what makes you smile. 

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Throughout life we look for connections. Unlike family whom we don’t choose but are born into, a friend is someone who appears one day and you like what they say because your friend and you think alike. You know your friend appreciates your creative thinking and is not afraid to say so; will stay by your side and never let you down. You and your friend become closer as the years go by. This relationship sustains you both, you share laughter together, your friend listens with an open mind, never condemns, and you come to them with your joys and sorrows safe in the knowledge there is no greater miracle than true friendship.

There's yet another kind of connection. I call it what-could-have-been.

It was December 2010. We were waiting for our train to Luxor from Cairo train station with our Egyptian guide, and enjoying a cup of tea and cakes, when we were joined by a young woman, a teacher from Bulgaria who was travelling with her mum and younger sister. She and I immediately formed a connection as if we knew each other carrying on an animated conversation. Turned out she was a fan of the Egyptian actor Omar Sharif.

Just before our train arrived, we settled the bill; she wanted to pay her share but we wouldn't let her. She thanked us graciously then walked over to the magazine stand to make some purchases. She returned to our table and gave me a magazine she had had just purchased. When I wanted to pay for it she wouldn't let me. I still have the magazine.

The train pulled in and I said to her at parting - maybe we'll meet some day. Two days later while touring the pyramids who do you think I met up with? She was standing in line waiting to enter one of the pyramids. The first thing she said was - remember, how you'd said we might meet again?
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Here's to friendship! And to what-could-have-been. May you flourish and grow in strength with each passing year.
#friendship #InspiredLiving #amwriting #amreading

​I think of solitude as a comfortable companion and trusty friend who will not judge if I remain quiet for hours. It isn’t being lonely but becoming one with one’s self rediscovering that dewy moment of peace so hard to find in our frenzied world. Solitude is often hidden within silent walls, rolling meadows, rippling streams and smiling flowers. A busy square, quiet pond, the desert. The trick is to recognize what uplifts the spirit.

In between editing my novel which I am doing now I like to write short stories to challenge myself. In long form writing I have the liberty of time and space to develop characters, set the atmosphere, write dialogue. The opposite is true in short form where I must compress a lifetime into a few pages. And that's how my short story I CAN BE TOUCHED BUT CANNOT TOUCH was born where I chose to write in the POV of a stone statue. It's featured in CommuterLit - Fiction on the go https://commuterlit.com/2024/09/monday-i-can-be-touched-but-cannot-touch/

​Autumn – chilly mornings, maybe a warm afternoon, the unmistakable scent of moist earth, glorious colours, sensuous landscapes.

Fruits from trees fall to the ground for human and animal to feast upon; there is the fragrance of burning logs in someone’s fireplace.

A rising wind will rush through the trees dragging the leaves down making a carpet for us to walk on softly. This is Fall. But I prefer to call this season by its name – Autumn. It conjures up positive images like the fruition of plantings in Spring and Summer culminating in bountiful harvests.

Autumn is also when trees having caught all the light through Spring and Summer, undergo the fabulous process of photosynthesis.

I picked up these leaves while walking this morning.
Enjoy the colours of Autumn, dear friends.

Keep Well. Stay Safe. Be Curious.
Purabi Sinha Das

​Photo: Purabi Sinha Das
#author #authorlife #amwriting #amreading #autumn #glorious 

Punta Arenas in Chile’s southernmost region, also known as Sandy Point in English and serving as an Antarctic Gateway, is a city one would want to wander around soaking up the visual delights it has to offer.

During the 5 day stay, our favourite was easily the waterfront where we walked, stopping occasionally to let our eyes linger on the blue waters of the ocean. Autumn was nudging into winter when we visited so sunshine pouring out of a blue sky felt like benediction.

With hardly any tourists at this time, we had the place to ourselves most days. Except for ducks in the water, and a couple of geese sunning on a wooden bridge.

Peace had never seemed so personal.

Hard to imagine that this stunningly beautiful place was chosen to be a small penal colony by the Spanish government in 1848 to protect its interests in this southern region of Chile.

Then, as the era of the gold rush shimmered on the horizon, large waves of European immigrants, mainly from Croatia and Russia arrived, who make up most of the population to this day. During a tour of the city our guide pointed out many mansions, mostly owned by Croatians, who own cattle farms up in the mountains and looked after by hired gauchos. There is a large community of Sindhis from India. Interestingly, the Indians are called Hindu.

Without delving too deep into its fascinating history (readily available on Wikipedia), this piece is just a tiny example of my feelings that threatened to overcome me during my stay in one of the largest cities in Patagonia. Usually, I wax eloquent on any topic I feel close to, but here I struggled for words. I resorted to my handy camera phone, instead.

Photos are my stories on the go and I share them with you, here.

Keep smiling and be well, my friends.
Purabi
​Photos by Purabi Sinha Das

Just received a note from my publisher FriesenPress that I should do something kind for myself. Why? Simply because today's the first anniversary or Bookiversary as they put it of my second book TWENTY TWO FOR 22 - a collection of short stories, poetry, and magical travel vignettes.

"...Filled with nostalgia, heartache,
adventure and magic, Twenty Two for 22 creates an escape, one
which is above all filled with human stories that encapsulates a
range of emotions including vulnerability that allows for a real
connection across generations and time."
-Umbereen Inayet, Artistic Director and Curator, City of Toronto

World Book Day happened on April 23.

I think most book lovers celebrate every time they pick up a book with eager hands, wait with impatience for a moment of quiet when they can immerse themselves into worlds unknown, travelling shoulder to shoulder with perfect strangers.

I have heard people say writing is a lonely profession. Not for me.

I don't find it lonely sitting day after day, at my desk, meeting strangers, offering them fictitious lives and observing if they want it or not. If they do, good. If not, that's good too. Then I can be nosy and offer advise and write up a new life for them. See how much fun it is to manipulate characters? And, that's why I am never lonely when I am doing what I like best.

No plush office for me...just a bit of space in our living room. That's all I need to write stories and poems and blog posts.

Keep well, my friends.
Purabi

Cayo Largo del Sur or simply Cayo Largo or Long Key is a small island off the southern coast of the northwestern part of the main island of Cuba. There are no permanent residents on the island, only tourists in resorts. We miss interacting with the locals. However, the island itself, with its long beaches of powdery white sand, turquoise waters, and breathtaking sunrise and sunsets, more than make up for it and we are happy.

The staff at the resort work 20 days then return to their homes on the island for 10 days. A journey home might take 5 hours by boat which is why some staff stay in town after their shift. Drinking water is ferried in to the resort. We are mindful of this and always drink the last drop in our bottles.

As we make our way to the beach, I am struck by something unusual. The terrain here is different from what we are used to seeing in Caribbean resorts. I am curious and must find out. After some reading, I learn about the Karstic origins of Cayo Largo. When rocks, limestone and dolomite dissolve a special type of landscape is formed. Which is why vegetation seems low in this region, I muse, paying attention to the branches of stunted trees clinging to humps of sand resembling dunes. The tide, when it comes in, takes a part of the beach with her. However, the very same portion is returned at some point in time.

With a wind-swept beach our only companion, we settle on a rock, probably here since the beginning of time, and let our senses absorb the beauty of this serene scene. We can stay here for hours, gazing out at the ever-changing colours of the water. A kingfisher swoops down from the sky, bags its prize, rises in a graceful arc, disappears from sight. This is life unfolding before us. We can live together. Paradise!

Keep well, my friends.
Purabi
#amwriting #travelstories #amreading #author #nature #photos