Framing Life - Windows Shaped My Journey Back to Nature
Join me as I explore how the windows of my life—from childhood to adulthood—shaped my journey back to the simple joys and profound beauty of nature.
Scenic Reflections: The Windows of My World
In this narrative, I aim to share my evolving view of the world as seen through windows, from childhood to adulthood. These windows symbolize the changing perspectives and environments throughout my life. While writing this blog, I felt as if I started my life in an ideal place and have been striving to return to it, exploring the serendipitous journey and recognizing it as a privilege. This reflection often leads me to question my achievements, realizing that life is coming full circle as I try to connect the end to the beginning. So, hold on and navigate through the chain of visuals from the windows of my life, as if you are on an interesting train journey with a window seat.
Childhood Reflections: Windows Through a Child's Eyes
Tiny Eyes, Tall Windows
Ah, childhood. The days when your biggest concern was whether your windows were designed by a giant for giants. Picture tiny me, living in a charming standalone bungalow that seemed built for giants, with windows so high they might as well have been in the clouds. At five, I could mostly see the portico ceiling—mesmerizing stuff, right? Just kidding. I often wondered why someone would place windows so high, making it nearly impossible for a child like me to see outside.
Mystery Portals and Doorway Dreams
Back in those days, windows were mostly mystery portals "Who’s that at the door? Let me peek stealthily!" —because, in the late '90s, doorbells were an uncommon luxury. Our standalone old home had a large garden in front, and the scenery, inspired by British architecture with its expansive lawns, was right outside my doorstep, so I didn't rely on windows for views as much as we do today. I simply went outside. So, instead of windows, I used the door, which was a much better friend.
Little Me vs. Big Conversations
My mom? She wanted windows for fresh air and better ventilation. Dad? his shaving spot, completed with mini mirror placed on window's wooden frame. Most of the time, we lived in government quarters where every window was identical and placed at the same height. According to me, for my parents windows were merely for functional purposes. For tiny me, adults seemed as tall as the windows, making me feel out of place in their lofty conversations. I couldn't wait to grow up and join their table of mysteries. Spoiler alert: Adulting can be overrated.
School Memories: Windows of Playfulness
The Gulmohar's Red Sea : Interrupted Daydreams
In early Summer a sea of Gulmohar blooms bright red flowers across the roadside and has a slightly tangy, sweet taste, painting the road red as it gets crushed under the tires of vehicles. It was a beautiful scene that I wish I had captured with a camera, a luxury back then. Maybe it's more poetic this way, leaving picture-perfect memories to our nostalgic imaginations. We tend to trust our memories more than anything else.
So, I hold onto this beautiful image, especially when I’m lost in the view from my window—until a chalk missile—aka a well-aimed piece of chalk—hits me squarely on the head with maximum impact. Apparently, all the teachers seem to have undergone chalk-shooting training and are proud of their sharpshooting skills, blissfully unaware that they’ve just ruined my daydreams of glory!
Hunger Games: School Edition: The Pollen Tug of War
School was the stage for our legendary summer games. Gulmohar is vibrant red flowers almost invading our classroom windows, pictures this: as if we were in 90s "Hunger Games: Summer Edition." In this thrilling arena, we became legends, plucking strong pollen grain stems with robust bulbs from a gulmohar flower, ready for our Pollen Grain Tug of War tournaments. Oh yeah, we even had cheerleaders! Winning this game was a chance to etch your name into the hearts of fellow students forever—a true window of opportunity to achieve schoolyard fame.
The game went like this: two players would hook their stems together at the pollen grain bulbs, and on the referee’s count of three, we would pull to break the opponent's stem, effectively decapitating the bulb. The victor would stand tall, puffing out their chest with pride for having outsmarted their rival. This game wasn’t just about strength; it required finesse and strategy. You need to play tactically, allowing the game to unfold while carefully judging your opponent and identifying weak spots at the junction of the stem and bulb. When the moment is right, you stretch the stem to its maximum, and then with a precise movement—like a samurai with a pair of scissors—you snip the bulb off your opponent's stem.
Hurray! You’re the winner, and your friends erupt in cheers and congratulations! But just as quickly, other players line up to challenge you to new matches. After a couple of successful decapitations, however, your own stem begins to weaken, and your strategies falter, ultimately leading you to surrender to defeat. Pick one more stem and continue the game.
It’s all about stealth, not sheer strength, as many might misunderstand. As for me, the one who emerged victorious more often than not, I would be showered with red flowers along my path, taking a slow victory walk with an invisible crown—just like in "Hunger Games."
Check out Video for Demo Game: Gulmohar
Almond Trees: The Bounty of Perseverance
Those were days! A big almond tree right in front of my classroom window through which we used to watch big dry leaves shedding around the tree during winters. During the season, dry and fresh almonds would fall from the tree, and I would mark the fruits, waiting for the school bell to ring so that I can raid them all. The red raw fruits tasted mildly sweet with lots of fiber. The sweet victory of cracking open the tough shell for that tiny reward of Almonds tasted better than anything-- fruits of perseverance.
Next School : A Kaleidoscope of Campus Life
When I switched schools, I found myself in a sophisticated Kendriya Vidyalaya (KV) an urban school in a the city. Here, windows were like screens to my favorite reality show. The campus was not only stunning but also buzzing with extracurricular activities. Everywhere I looked, students were engaged in sports and play on the open grounds. There was an unspoken rule: if a teacher didn’t arrive within 10 minutes, it automatically became a self-declared PT period—an opportunity for impromptu games and fun.
On one side, the Scouts and Guides diligently practiced their skills, mastering knots and executing drills with precision. Meanwhile, on the other side, NCC cadets worked on their basic military techniques and manifesting discipline. It was a picturesque scene.
In the middle of all this, some students from the Socially Useful Productive Work (SUPW) program busied themselves with campus maintaining, whether it was cleaning, gardening, or engaging in other meaningful tasks. I was always curious what they are doing and how they are doing. The windows offered a never-ending highlight reel of campus life.
College Days: Windows of Exploration
Hostel Windows: Landscaped Perfection vs. Untamed Wilderness
Fast forwarding to my engineering studies at IIT Madras, I lived on the second floor of the college hostel, where a large window offered a stunning view of the forest and the road that gracefully divides the manicured lawns of hostel grounds from the natural landscape. It’s incredible to witness the beauty on both sides of the road, each holding its own significance. The hostel side is a testament to meticulous landscaping, with pristine, weed-free areas and vibrant flower beds that are lovingly tended. This striking contrast beautifully illustrates the creativity and care that humans can bring to their environments.
Seasons and Wildlife: A Window of Hope
On the forest side of the road, enormous, majestic trees showcase their wild growth, yet nature has arranged them in a stunning blends. Each season brings its own unique and beautiful scenery. In summer, the forest stands as a fortress against the hot and humid climate. It feels as if the heat and humidity cannot penetrate their strong and motivated spirit. Astonishingly, very little heat penetrates the forest's embrace, providing a sanctuary for the charming little birds, playful animals, and delicate plants that seek refuge beneath the mighty, ancient trees that form a protective canopy overhead.
Sometimes, I delight in watching little squirrels darting through the bushes while it's raining. Even when the view remains largely unchanged, I find solace in sitting by the window, breathing in the fresh air and enjoying the cool breeze. In these moments, I feel a deep connection to nature, as if I'm not just confined to a box. It becomes a window of hope, reminding me that I’m not merely a cog in the machine of the intellectual world of science and engineering. I am, in fact, a part of nature, with every right to live simply, embrace a carefree spirit, and revel in the delightful blend of warmth and rain during spring without the judgment of a competitive society that seeks only to replicate itself.
Floral Tantrums and Silent Cries
On the other side of the road, in stark contrast, it seems that the plants, lovingly tended by the gardener, also exhibit human like tantrums. They are incredibly organized, well-groomed, delicate, and demanding. If the gardener doesn’t show up one day, their drooping leaves and weary appearance convey a sense of sadness, revealing their affection for him. Their longing for the gardener is evident in their mournful expressions, showing just how much they miss him. These plants are so delicate that if someone accidentally steps on them, they appear to cry and showing all sorts of tantrums. Drama queens, much?
Cycles of Life: People and Nature
Speaking of girls, I love watching them ride their bicycles down the road, giggling as they pedal leisurely, occasionally stealing glances at others while keeping their focus on the path ahead. Sometimes, they carry their college bags as they head to class, while at other times, they don their sports gear and carry equipment. With no control of mine, my thoughts often race, wondering what my future girlfriend might be doing at that very moment. Is she riding one of those bicycles? Is she focused and dedicated to her studies all day, or is she a daydreamer like me, gazing out of windows?
When in love, any scene through a window looks like a portal to heaven, even if you see a deer shitting on a beautiful flower. You can't help but think, "Wow," as the deer finds such a lovely spot to do its business. These things truly happen.
On the other hand, the guys are always in a rush, competing with one another. When they cross paths with the girls, they tend to speed up, hoping to impress them with their bravado. However, I suspect the girls don’t see it that way. Of course, I used to be one of those guys until I realized otherwise.
One sight I wouldn't miss for anything is when a family of deer crosses the road. I often spot the little ones hiding among the adults when they detect people nearby, but only for a moment. Then, they start bounding around playfully. Occasionally, I even catch a glimpse of snakes slithering across the road.
In the distance, I can see a football field, and many times I grab a book and sit by the window, watching students play football, shout, curse at each other, and celebrate. It’s quite electrifying.
My classrooms were spacious, but we rarely had the chance to sit near the windows. Some of us felt that the windows were more of a distraction than an asset during class, so we typically kept them shut.
Our classroom windows were covered with translucent glass that offered only a blurry glimpse of the bustling corridor outside. The view was so distorted that it barely sparked any curiosity about who was wandering past. As a result, those windows often faded into the background, forgotten like a book on a shelf. It’s funny to think that while the world outside was full of life, the classroom windows remained shut, disconnecting us from the happenings outside.
First Job: Windows of Hyderabad
From Campus to Corporate: Embracing New Adventures
The shift from my beautiful college campus to the corporate world at Hyderabad's BHEL campus was quite the adventure. I felt pretty lucky compared to some of my friends because I got to work in a sprawling, tree-filled campus—not a jungle like my college, but it still offered some fresh greenery despite being in the city. While it wasn’t exactly the same as the lively college vibe I was used to, this place had its charm, with cozy two-story bungalows, each home to four families.
Contrasting my college days, in Hyderabad, the corporate world introduced me to a diverse array of people on the roads. I encountered mothers, fathers, children, teenagers, vendors, and men in uniform. Perhaps some of them were present during my college years too, but they only became noticeable once I entered the working world. Perhaps my newly dating life phased out the daydreaming. I now eagerly use those early Reliance postpaid phones with unlimited family packs to stay connected with her.
Morning Routines
From my 2nd floor window, I have the opportunity to observe numerous people, exhibiting different moods. Early in the morning, just before sunrise, I see housewives on the ground floor cleaning their verandas and creating intricate Rangoli designs. Men are busy cleaning their scooters or bikes, and children walk to tuition classes with heavy bags on their backs. These individuals seem to operate as if their body parts have minds of their own, efficiently performing daily tasks while their actual minds engage in conversations with neighbors or family members sharing news even before newspaper arrives. Their routines are deeply ingrained, and regardless of the previous night's mood, they start each day by following the same routine, almost as if they were programmed like machines.
The birds in the trees are bustling with activity, following their own routine as if preparing for a critical mission, urgently waking everyone as if they're late for an earth-shattering task. Just before sunrise, like clockwork, they leave their nests in organized groups, marching with their beaks held high as they race towards their destiny.
The Paperboy and Weekend Mysteries
The sight of the paperboy racing down empty streets never loses its charm. He not only delivers the news but also serves as my wake-up call, grounding me in reality. His arrival is a reminder of yesterday’s unfinished tasks and today’s new plans. As the sun begins to rise, I gradually settle into my routine. Yet, that brief period just before sunrise and the paperboy's arrival is priceless, like pure gold. During those moments, I wake up in a good mood, surrounded by stress-free, positive thoughts.
Weekends always bring interesting observations. The garbage collector, for some reason, arrives with a long, solemn face and empties the trash into the dustbin. Inevitably, some of the garbage spills onto the road. I used to wonder why no one confronted him about his shoddy job. Now I realize that the very reason no one addresses him—either to commend or criticize—results in his lack of enthusiasm for the job. It underscores how crucial it is for people to feel recognized and appreciated.
Street Vendors
A lively street bustling with vendors, each with their own unique flair, hawking goods to an array of eager customers. Despite their constant shouting, I never understood whether they are selling carrots or car parts. Even more baffling was how effortlessly everyone seemed to understand and purchase from them.
Sometimes I see these vendors asking for water, and an aunty brings it in some old, rarely-used tumblers, holding the tip of the tumbler while giving it to them. If the vendor wants another glass of water, the person who bellows on the street suddenly becomes timid, stammering with fear in his voice while requesting more. The lady then brings a jug and pours water into his glass from a height, ensuring minimal contact.
It didn’t end there. The vendor would either rinse the glass if a tap was nearby or gently place it aside with the care of handling a precious relic. Once the vendor departed, the aunty would swoop in, retrieving the tumbler and subjecting it to a rigorous cleaning ritual—scrubbed cleaner than a surgeon’s hands.
To my logical brain, fail to decode this mysterious drama wrapped and dipped in tradition. Why the height, the stammer, the tip-holding? Despite the oddity, this ritual had a rhythm, an unspoken understanding, both parties performed with surprising efficiency and respect. It was a testament to the unyielding adaptability of human connections, even in the tiniest, most peculiar exchanges.
Windows to the World: Embracing Life’s Simple Joys
Looking back at my life through the myriad windows I've peered through, I realize they've had a bigger impact on my worldview than I could've imagined. As a child, I watched the world bloom with wonder and curiosity. As a young adult, I viewed it through the structured lens of achievement, only to find myself looping back to nature's embrace. From school chaos to corporate calm, my path felt like a journey looping back to nature. It seemed simpler before this relentless pursuing of ambitions—a tangible privilege now.
Windows are mystical portals—transforming from sources of raw wonder to symbols of simplicity rediscovered. Through them, life’s lessons unfold, with happiness often peeking from behind the reclaimed fragments of past naivety. Perhaps returning to our roots is not a correction of an age-old mistake, but a vivid appreciation of what was once overlooked.
Sure, the streets I knew are no longer the same and those window scenes have changed forever, but they've become part of my DNA. They are as ingrained in me as the nourishment that sustains my being. These whimsical views have crafted me into the person I am today—a person whose superpower is happiness and positivity. Take that, Batman!
The richness of those windows has blessed my life's journey with curiosity, competitiveness, and a profound love for the simple beauty of nature.
Today, as I juggle various roles—working in corporate, writing, reading, meeting inspiring people, traveling, playing sports, running marathons, training in kickboxing, and trekking. It's either curiosity, an unknown source of competitiveness, or maybe just my love for nature—I honestly have no clue! But man, do those windows ever give richness to this train ride we call life.
Live life as if you had a chance to relive it, learning from past mistakes.
Approach life with the wisdom of hindsight, making better choices in the present based on the lessons learned from past experiences.
So listen up, dear readers! Take a trip down memory lane and relive your own window seat experiences in your life's train journey. Reflect on how they've shaped you into the magnificent individuals you are. When you finally appreciate the journeys you've navigated, you will find joy in the journey that lies ahead. Remember, we're all still chugging along, and the destination is just a point in the distance. So let's keep taking in the views, having a few laughs, and savoring every moment until we get there!
Curious about how my journey unfolded beyond the windows of my first job? Dive into my previous blog to explore life’s next chapter from the corporate window seat! in a Metro : Life in Mumbai: A Journey Through the Windows
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