#khoj

Khoj: The Bloom Within

In the realm of dreams and wonder, in a picturesque village nestled amidst the verdant embrace of nature, resided a young girl named Pihu, a name that embodied 'chirpiness' in Hindi. Pihu was no ordinary girl; she was a dreamer with a heart as colorful as the flowers in her family's garden.

The village, adorned with flourishing flora and tranquil meadows, cradled within its heart Pihu's cherished haven—the family garden. A tapestry of vibrant flowers graced this magical space, painting the landscape with hues of joy. Pihu spent her mornings amidst the blooming petals, each one a muse for her imaginative soul.

One radiant morning, as Pihu sat amidst the garden, her grandmother, a fountain of wisdom and love, joined her. With twinkling eyes, she spoke words that etched themselves in Pihu's heart forever, "Beta, yaad rakhna, phoolon ko khilne mein waqt lagta hai. Dhairya, dekhbhal aur samarpit hona chahiye. Jaise sapne."

Pihu's eyes sparkled with curiosity and wonder. "Lekin kyun, Dadi? Kyun itna samay lagta hai?"

"Ah, meri pyari," her grandmother said with a gentle smile, "har phool ka apna samay hota hai khilne ka, aur khilne ki yatra aur dhairya hi unhein itne sundar banati hai."

As the years passed, Pihu's fascination with the garden evolved into a passion for art. The flowers were her muses, and the canvas her playground. She would spend hours sketching and painting, each stroke an attempt to capture the essence of the blossoms.

Yet, her artistic journey was a winding road, filled with challenges and doubts. There were moments she contemplated giving up, but the memory of her grandmother's words would rekindle her determination. "Jaise phool," she'd whisper to herself, "mujhe bhi apne pace par khilna hai."

One day, as she sat in the garden, she noticed a tiny bud on a rosebush. Intrigued, she observed it closely, marveling at its gradual transformation. Each day, the bud grew a bit more, unveiling the delicate layers within. The process was slow, but the outcome—a stunning, fully bloomed rose—was worth the wait.

It dawned on Pihu that her artistic journey was like that of the blooming rose. She needed nurturing, patience, and dedication for her talent to flourish and blossom.

Emboldened by this realization, Pihu dedicated herself to her art. She practiced diligently, sought guidance, and experimented with new techniques. Her paintings began to mirror the beauty of the garden, radiating color, life, and grace.

With time, her talent gained recognition. An opportunity arose—a local art exhibition. Pihu decided to participate, eager to share her passion with the world. She prepared her paintings meticulously, pouring her heart and soul into each stroke.

The day of the exhibition arrived, and Pihu stood beside her paintings, a whirlwind of emotions within her. Visitors marveled at her art, and among them was Mr. Gupta, a well-known art critic. He carefully examined each piece, and with a warm smile, he spoke, "Your paintings are like blooming flowers, each stroke portraying patience, dedication, and the passage of time. Your talent is remarkable, Pihu."

Tears of joy welled up in Pihu's eyes. Her art had bloomed, just like the flowers in her garden. Her dreams were taking flight, and she knew she was on the right path.

Pihu's story became an inspiration to all who heard it. She embodied the truth that dreams, like flowers, require nurturing, patience, and dedication to bloom into something beautiful. Through her journey, she transformed her dreams into a vibrant garden of success, teaching the world that with unwavering dedication, dreams would indeed blossom into a beautiful reality.

Image courtesy: Harshita Annejwal

Penned by the wordsmith: Aditya Sah.

When we think about it, perfection is such a ridiculous idea. Do we really believe we can please every mind out there? For some, even the Almighty is not believed to exist, so does this mean that they will never be perfect in their lives? Perhaps nothing in this world can be flawless, or perhaps everything is perfect if we look at it from a different perspective. Half of everything should always be 1:2 and this is regarded the perfect middle or should I say standardised middle ground, but the world and nature don't operate that way since we can't split everything into two halves and assume we've divided them equally. Even in the nature of music, and please bear with me on this one, just like the mirror effect a note becomes an octave and that’s how we get two notes and an octave is not divided into two equal halves or we can say it doesn’t have a midpoint but there is a 5th note that’s the dominant which is almost like 3:2 ratio. For those who don’t want to get into the technicalities and just want the essence of what I’m trying to explain, just consider that it isn’t always necessary to have balance in everything.

In my life, I have realised how everyone and everything in this world is conditioned to respond to things in a certain manner. Even street dogs that have been traumatised by human ruthlessness may bite you because they have been conditioned to do it in order to protect themselves. I learned the value of being sensitive to others, but I still battle to be sensitive to everything around me because I have this impulsive energy that causes me to literally destroy things. This always makes me wonder what is my fifth note? Should I become more sensitive and lose the impulsiveness that defines me as Sakib?

We all know that there is no such thing as black and white, and that there is always something in the grey area, but do we genuinely acknowledge this? Finding my 5th note just means I want embrace all the things that makes my life unbalanced because that’s how we learn. Music has been one of my greatest teachers, and through it, I attempt to comprehend everything around me, just like the 5th note. Music tells me how rain can signify both love and pain and this is how perfection is met. We only need to go beyond what we believe to be true and follow nature. I'm still looking for the 5th note, but perhaps my battle with sensitivity and impulsiveness, along with many other characteristics, makes me perfect, or should I say, human.

Bulleh Shah zahr wekh ke peeta te kee peeta Bulleh Shah, what’s the point of taking poison, yet fearing its ingredients?

Ishq soch ke keeta te keeh keeta

What’s the point of falling in love, yet fearing its consequences?

Dil de ke dil lain di aas rakhi

If you give your heart in the hope that your love may be returned 

Ve buleya Pyaar eho jiha keeta te keeh keeta What’s the point then, Bulleh Shah, of giving your heart at all?