OUR HAPPY-SPOTS









Pic.: Chetna Shetty

When I was preparing for my tenth-standard exams, back in my hometown, Mangalore, I remember studying at my favorite spot at home. It was just behind our house, under the large tamarind tree... I would spread a mat there, on the ground, and do my studies... For me, it was simply an inspiring spot!

While in college, I remember going to a beautiful hill called Hat Hill.  I would sit there, beneath the breezy cashew-nut trees, and study along with one or two of my friends. The ambience was simply serene and energizing!

Here in Mumbai, in my early years, I remember sitting alone, or with a couple of my friends, in quiet locations, such as lush lawns or at corners of large play-grounds... As little children played in the distance, and as elderly relaxed on the benches, I would stretch myself on the green patches and soak myself in Nature’s inspiration!

My office, here – from where I write now - is one such place. If you see around, you will see a mess... papers still waiting to go into their respective files, the files still lying open, the bank passbook on table, pens lying here and there... tea cups still to be washed... and more such mess. Yes, you may surely see this in my office here... But, I thrive in this mess! For some mystrerious reasons, I find this place extremely inspiring... I am able to think creatively from this place... I do all my daily blogging righ from this place... I love to meet and talk to people, straight from my heart, right from this place... I am able to centre myself easily here... forgive and forget comes to me quickly from this place... Hope is more visible from here... I can hear the songs of the birds and barking of the dogs, so beautifully, yes, from this place... And, yes, right in the midst of this mess around!

Strange! Mysterious!

In life, there are these favorite spots for all of us... They help us to be at our creative best... They help us to calm down... and see our great dreams!

A while ago, Mr. Hadwadekar, who is about 85 in age, had called me to enquire about me. He had not seen me for almost a month. So, it was his way of saying, “Gerry, I care for you!” We spoke for, almost, fifteen minutes... and, suddenly, he said, “Gerry, you are in a wonderful atmosphere... I can hear the breeze of the trees and the songs of the birds!”

“Oh my God,” I exclaimed, “Sir, you can hear it from so far!”

After the call ended, I thought I would write about it...

GERALD D’CUNHA

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