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Chitra Raag

India

My blog is about living with grace, simplicity, and good sense in a century that has forgotten its dearest songs, its most elated dreams, its most tender prayers. It is about life, books, nomadic travels, homely pleasures and six seasons that bless my land, it is about the memories of an old abandoned city that was once the home of great and simple minds, and last of all, it is about my little room - broad windows and doors of which open on my old sunlit garden.

I am an independent woman - I don't serve the system that has made our century so devoid of dreams and daring struggles and of that essential spirit of unending quest for beauty and truth. I hate to slave away for pittance and serve institutions that work as tools for this heartless system where 'sinners' ways prosper'.
I have undying thirst for knowledge and beauty. Books, paintings, music, poems, science, philosophies - they are all my passion, my life. I love traveling and I also love all things that make me feel at home. I love cooking, holidaying, not doing anything sometimes and I equally love gardening and needlework and mama's endless gossips into the late evening.

The night sky full of unknown mysteries has always been for me the most sublime, the most tender and the most graceful song of the creation. Its breathtaking timelessness, its heart-stirring immensity and the shortness of the few days I spend here on this lovely blue 'terra' which itself dances day and night to that sad, immortal, empyreal tune, makes me feel so humble and so blessed that I am alive, that I am still young and in good health, and that I have that godly power of creation.
Yes, it is true that I have created myself with my own hands, I have made out everything for myself. I have learned how to accept things I cannot change but I generally do not like to follow the dictates of time. Yes, i can dare to battle against time. I have the power to destroy myself and reinvent a new being out of myself, to rediscover myself after every crushing defeat. I never give up. So, come to my world - I welcome you.
I am a writer who writes only for her own self, I am an artist who admires, who adores all the moods and shades and all the sad melodies of the seasons that camp like gypsies inside me. I carry them everywhere - their tunes, their sounds, their colours - all. I am a social and political activist who dreams about the coming dawn of humanity when finally man would be able to comprehend some of the mysteries of that beautiful, enigmatic, endless sky, when life will start anew, when every man and every woman on this blue wanderer would be free.
And yes, do drop in for a cup of coffee at my room. My room - my refuge, my den, my hermitage, call it whatever you like - it is one little space where no 'outsiders' are allowed. It is my world. I leave at my doorstep everything that I had been carrying the whole day on my shoulders when I enter my room. I leave at my doorstep the heartless time that I belong to and all its saddening ways, the deathlike silence of our century that has forgotten to roar like a lion in anger, the cacophonies of the teeming cities of concrete where kindness, sympathy and affection have no room, and all the shameless tales of treacherous coldness and everyday breaches of faith. Step into my room - which waits for my return the whole day.
My room has a simple, spartan diwan to sleep on, more of a worker's bed than a woman's, a simple old wooden table and chair for writing, a bookshelf full of books that have been my dearest companions, and yes, two old armchairs - for that cup of morning tea. Nevertheless, I can bet there are few rooms where so much of serenity, harmony and peace of mind dwell.
You are welcome - to my world, and . . . to my blog!
Life without principles is unacceptable to me. i have an indomitable rebellious soul that never submits to defeats. i have learnt to keep my head high and bow down only before truth and beauty. i am a person with unending thirst for knowledge and beauty and goodness. these are dark and gloomy and insane times but i have decided not to submit before the dehumanising compulsions placed by time. I want to make my little contribution to life and my world to which i owe so much before i am lost in the oblivion of time.

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