Amit Goes Blogging

It was a fascinating trip to Murud. My wife’s longstanding illness had prevented us from taking up the weekend offers that kept coming from my friends week after week. The trip that we ultimately made was a welcome relief for both of us. For her it was a change of atmosphere. For me, a change of spirits! But, before you put away reading this post as a travel journal, please be informed that I have no intention of writing one. Travelogues impart readers with information about places and, to some extent, also communicate the vibes that fill them. The traveller gathers it all while exploring not only the chief spectacles a place has to offer, but also its nooks and crannies. I went to Murud without making any efforts at visiting Janjeera fort, the landmark that gives credence to why one chooses Murud among the scores of beaches that lie on the western coast. Surprisingly, the other seven travellers, my wife included, showed an equally inadequate inclination to see the fort. Bad, isn't...

His grandfather died! My friend could not attend the funeral. His father decided against it considering the loss of time and money it would incur. Father was rather snotty about his rank and office. He knew well that a son is pleased with inheritance rather than affection. In pursuance of this belief, father never wasted his love on his only son. Unfortunately, even mother’s behaviour was a little uncharacteristic. She was a mother by virtue of being wedded to the father of the boy. She never persuaded him for a second helping at the dinner table nor entreated him to stay at home a little longer during vacations. The cords of motherly love when under constant strain by a disciplinarian father can sometimes go weak. In her case, they snapped. Grandfather was the only family he knew. When he got the news of his death, he was inconsolable. His grief was writ large on his face. He used to share everything with his grandfather who always encouraged him like a friend. But now, he had no...