L
  PE
 SC
DA
                                                                     h       r-                             ...
ContEntS
                                                                                                   ord           ...
FoREWoRD

                                                                                                          Sh Ah ...
“ home is about
6                                                           7




“Home was in my grandmother’s         fa...
A NEW DAY. A NEW ADVENTURE
               Some people thought I was insane to return to             All I longed for were ...
DEJA VU
     I love the first snow of the season…It’s like a deja vu of     I had this sudden craving for cutting chai, bu...
Home.
Will we ever really find it? Will our hearts ever settle? We flee from place to place, forever
searching for that bi...
Tokyo swallowed me up in one neon-flashing, subway-mobbing,              in front of me. It was painstaking at first, test...
H A R D LY L O ST I N TRA NS LATI O N                      would pack our bags and head anywhere we could. My            a...
19



                       In a maximum
                        city that runs
                          so fast, it is
...
CUt ShoRt
                                                                                                                ...
FROM SAND TO SNOW                                                       hoME iS A PlACE
             My fingers have been ...
IN SEARCH OF MY TREASURE
                A man, as justification for me to move into his home, remarked, “for
            ...
“
26



                                                    Remember that you
                                            ...
IMAGE
 CREDITS
  All images are the sole property of its owners.
  Click on the links within to explore more work
  from t...
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Dsplaced Volume 01

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Dsplaced illuminates a universal palette of emotions that individuals often spend a lifetime trying to decipher. But most importantly, Dsplaced is an experiment in collective storytelling – and it is our fervent hope that you will become a part of this mosaic. The web is our chosen platform for this expression. We know no other way that will allow us to create a place that overtime will build itself into a rich tapestry of personal stories. So please, read the stories and if you feel ready, share your story with us.

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Dsplaced Volume 01

  1. 1. L PE SC DA h r- i satis hnamuia ch weta s le katie i enk ne na Volume r m v halam h az h krish lina alte e kati 01 kris victor lter sh houg roshn ac a sha r satis cho a ougl it it thy lina a hab c k m. h ni o a tkar re bhishe nik houshia ictoria ehab c m. rosh g ura a n. a ni ita urthy v atkar r hishek c han arab lchanda ng nam eta sur a n. ab arlene hil su mu ne cha kita shw e arab ndani ah nik arle a s. ni il cha a sh mul s. nikit m neh h nikh iiam a nia sha raman . neh m a k. b r a hael ditya sub hael k itya mic n h ad sri c h. a a mi n n SEP 2009 dio ikrishna dio r i k r i s h halam g shr s h nkitac neha s e m v ta shah r sati niki oushia murt L D ita h krishna ia ch sh victor thy a alter in o al eta sur shw ar reh atk hou P ab c kat gle ra tie a n ba neh u shah hnam h n ikita ish kris a alter s gl alam sat o alin b chou m tach ushiar reha bhishekarle ho h azitaictoria c n. a andani v ar ch Dsplaced rthy suratk osh weta tie arab ul a k m. r ni arl ishe da abh ulchan neha s bra .n e ka shni m h o m hang ni c hil s ne ah nik ichael hrikr u k. m. r hang neha ne c nikita s ra ish A Collective Storytelling Experiment le h srikr n s m as dity iram a s. hil sub ditya iram ve a ikita aniam k a r h a a sr nki h ni niam a s itach
  2. 2. ContEntS ord ans i iar S. w M ush ha es ore al & ta H o Ne o d quot 4F Jin Azi 07 Ch r i e s a nr o s s t h e a to 0 05 tori teen s 06 Vic ang e ac h t ion o f e i g hm b y p e o p l e did. If 08 eneC l K. tka r collec placed.co h as w . Arl ae ra ani s a c ich Su e 01 i o ds as mu ries 10 M ta cha nd ced Volum ubmitted t ading these tion of sto 12 Sh we iM ul Dspla ve been s enjoy re is col lec 13 shn y th at ha p e you to share th Ro urth We ho ee 16 am globe. do, feel fr r hK ri shn you lte is aA Sat Alin 18 14 . nH Dio 19 m chala n kita ah Ve Sh m le ita S rira houg Nik 26 bC 21 ha Re 20 na s ie rish re dit Kat Shri k eC 22 M. ag k N. am itya Im she aba ani Ad 28 hi Ar m 27 Ab 24 bra 23 u hil S QUOTE Nik STORY 25
  3. 3. FoREWoRD Sh Ah Di in Al in I-95 ing Ri VE it e be , n th ngra J g o n s e o f e e n ’s Bha s that nS rivin se Qu t in gles , b Dsplaced illuminates a universal palette of emotions that individuals ’m d range t the I t no Ban adcrum A n , w h e e t a s g p a s i z e, I ’ m ood re M llyw e my b often spend a lifetime trying to decipher. But most importantly, es n l etim hia, I g drivi I rea B o Dsplaced is an experiment in collective storytelling – and it is our om elp d n - g s. y ar .” “S ad n y a he t h i n r y. T h e o h o m e fervent hope that you will become a part of this mosaic. We know Phil Bomba And t tle ur o lit C y. T no other way that will allow us to create a place that overtime will i n k l a c e. on t Brinjal Bomba old build itself into a rich tapestry of personal stories. Read the stories n e c b a y.” “I h ss and ack to Bom Bra me b and if you feel ready, share your story with us. lead www.dsplaced.com | dsplaced@gmail.com We look forward to reading your story. Jinal & Mansi (Founders) 4 5
  4. 4. “ home is about 6 7 “Home was in my grandmother’s family. No matter lap in her garden as she braided where i am, if i am my hair & spun tales of Princess with my family, i am of Naranj & Toranj, and dipped home . sugarcubes in her tea.” ” azita houshiar neha s.
  5. 5. A NEW DAY. A NEW ADVENTURE Some people thought I was insane to return to All I longed for were Buddhist temples, parks with America when the economy was sinking, when I waterfalls, and the casual interpretation of time that could easily get another teaching job in Asia, when meant if people proposed meeting at 2 PM, 2:15 or I expressed such dislike over New York, and when I even 2:30 would still be acceptable. consistently praised the cheapness, the beauty, and the kind people of Asia. My well-being and mentality slightly improved once I moved into my Brooklyn apartment. I have a I returned to New York anyway. I was tired of spacious bedroom on a tree-lined block inhabited by traveling and the inability to hold conversations with families. Down the street, children play basketball in others. a park or have field trips to the Brooklyn Children’s museum. There are bike paths on my cross streets, I cried a few times my first week while staying with a and I’m in close proximity to Prospect Park, the friend in Washington Heights. I loathed the crowds, Brooklyn Library, and the Brooklyn Museum. the filthy packed subway cars, the dirty and too numerous buildings that seemed as if they wanted Although I’ve formed a comforting routine of writing, to topple on me and press me into the dirty, rat reading, applying to jobs, meditating, and doing yoga, poop-covered sidewalk, the noise noise noise, and I still don’t know if I can or ever will call New York the people’s ubiquitous addiction to a Blackberry, an home. Sometimes Portland or San Francisco whisper iPhone, or some other electronic device. What New in my ear. Sometimes, places farther away. I’ve York claimed as parks were as covered with people physically returned to America, but where has my as Chinatown and sometimes not much cleaner. mind settled? Is this a return to the past or is this really the beginning of another adventure? I lost focus. I had trouble reading, writing, thinking, victoria cho breathing, and staying in the moment, a concept I found incredibly soothing and relieving in Thailand. 9
  6. 6. DEJA VU I love the first snow of the season…It’s like a deja vu of I had this sudden craving for cutting chai, butter makka the first rains back home. The glitch though is, it doesn’t and garma garam bhajiyas…Of course, those cravings smell as divine as India’s wet earth. remained just that - cravings. I correct myself here. Last year was my first winter, after just four months, in I love the first snow, but I live for the lashing rains of New York. And, being from a tropical country like India Bombay. The smell and sound of butter on a garam bhutta, and a humid city like Bombay, the snow thrilled me to no the cutting chai from the tapris and the taste of freshly end. I celebrated - went out and danced in the snow with made bhajiyas on my already scalded tongue. I love the snowflakes falling on my face, the cold biting my skin passion of the rains, the salty spray from the wild Arabian and most of all, I indulged in a frolicking snow fight with Sea messing with my hair and of course, the smell of my friends. I could well have been singing ‘Raindrops keep earth. The smell of India. falling on my head’. Only, these were snowflakes… Something similar happened today. As the skies burst open, my feet suddenly had a life of its own. I was walking with a lilt in my gait and looking towards the sky, as if waiting for the snow to lash my face. Of course, that didn’t happen. Snowflakes don’t lash your face as passionately as raindrops do. At best, they can give you a frostbite. As I was enjoying my walk from office to the subway, I was happy about my happiness - a feeling that New York 10 doesn’t manage to evoke from me oftentimes. But then, arlene chang
  7. 7. Home. Will we ever really find it? Will our hearts ever settle? We flee from place to place, forever searching for that bit of stability. And when we think we have found it, something quickly proves us wrong. We get bored or discover that things aren’t as we expected. And off we go, with eyes turned to the road once again. Home is something evasive; something wet and slippery and hard to grasp. And when we do manage to grab it, it is oh so eager to escape our grip. michael k. New York and Mumbai are similar. But there is one difference amongst its dwellers. In NY the 18 inch separation of space between two people transcends to their hearts. In Mumbai, it’s just the space. shweta suratkar New York and Mumbai are similar. But there is one difference amongst its dwellers. In NY the 18 inch separation of space between two people transcends to their hearts. In Mumbai, it’s just the space.
  8. 8. Tokyo swallowed me up in one neon-flashing, subway-mobbing, in front of me. It was painstaking at first, testing my motivation READING THE CITY impossibly bright and impeccably-styled gulp. I live here now. I say and patience, and I can’t quite describe the sensation, but the the words carefully, letting them roll over my tongue (trembling from world around me had suddenly become accessible, no longer the a day of stumbling through the staccato fortress that is Japanese). overwhelming, mysterious Babylon that it had been. That’s the day I’m glad to be seen carrying grocery bags down the alley behind my that I began walking into things. apartment- it means people know I live here. Anytime I saw a sign, an advertisement, even a menu posted Were I merely a tourist, I surely wouldn’t be grocery shopping, outside, I craned my neck to read it. I read everything, slowly buying my tiny food to store in my tiny fridge in my tiny room. I’m identifying and sounding out each character, then stringing them proud to wait in line at the market, the pharmacy, the ward, I’m together, and finally attempting to glean the meaning as a whole. proud to be attempting to infiltrate the biggest city on the planet, This frequently required me to stop walking suddenly in my tracks, knowing that if I pushed any further east, I would start wrapping thus causing a pile-up of throngs of busy Tokyoites behind me, around the globe, and be heading towards home again. But here or better yet, caused me to walk directly into a stationary object I am, head spinning, blood pumping the inexhaustible soundtrack in front of me as my head was still turned and my mouth still of the city into my veins. House music maybe, or some syrupy, mumbling incoherently and excitedly to myself. Having been here for digitalized, genre of the future. I am perpetually over-stimulated in several months now, I still read everything I can, though I’ve learned my new life here. My eyes are never not straining, my brain never not to injure my self or others in the process. not processing. And I am constantly reading, reading, reading. And when I’m not reading the entire city, I’m breathing it, sweating When I first arrived, all the signs, advertisements, and notices were it, squeezing it, tasting it, cradling it, capturing it, seducing it, and nothing more to me than a random combination of lines, swirls, grasping it, preparing for the day when I’ll have to remember it. shapes, and designs. Nothing written held any meaning for me, which led to immense frustration, confusing, and disorientation. Yet I diligently kept studying the characters, writing and rewriting them on every available surface, a sort of mania that led my hand right off the paper I was working on. Finally, one day on the train, I looked up at an advertisement, neurotransmitters fired in the way they’re supposed to, and I found that I could sound out the words written alina alter 15
  9. 9. H A R D LY L O ST I N TRA NS LATI O N would pack our bags and head anywhere we could. My all housed within a 23 kilometer radius. In addition, such a small city. But over time, I’ve come to like the British passport is filled with stamps including: U.S.A, the energy and buzz the city never sleeps possesses peace and slight resemblance to India that Fremont For more reasons than one, I believe that my parents Indonesia, Russia, Spain, Austria, The Philippines, is literally pulsating. On numerous occasions during encompasses. While I may never call it “home,” it is a should have invested in a family airplane. It would have Thailand and of course, India. my stay in New York, my best friend and I would city which I will hold close to my heart. really saved them a lot of money that was spent on our realize we were bored at 3 a.m. only to walk out and travel and moving about. Born, bred and bought up Most of my summers were spent in the grueling but be surrounded by tons of people in Times Square. Personally, I’ve come to a point in my life where I in Hong Kong was perhaps the best experience of my amazing Bombay (more recently Mumbai) monsoons. I doubt I slept for over six hours a day until I sadly think I need to head back east now. It is ultimately my life. I was born much before it was handed back to the I remember being forewarned not to eat any foods graduated. dream to make India my home for a simple reason Chinese regime and for majority of my childhood lived sold by the roadside hawkers and secretly gorging on that I don’t think I have found my home till date. They in British controlled Hong Kong. My British school was local goodies on an outing with my friends. Mumbai is I then moved westward to sunny California. It was say home is where the heart is and my dil goes dhak- the biggest melting pot in the world. Enrolled were definitely my favorite city in the world. I love everything perhaps one of the most humbling experiences in dhak for India. I can’t imagine living the rest of my life expatriates from the U.K., Indians, Aussies, Chinese it stands for. While everyone know it is a city whose my life. From constantly living in a city, I moved into anywhere else. I really wish there was such thing as a and a whole amalgamation of other cultures. While spirit cannot be broken, Mumbai has an essence a small “village” in the east bay known as Fremont. Global Passport for citizens such as myself. After all, I grew up eating Sunday Dim-Sum, learning British which cannot be imitated. The minute I step off the Why “village” you ask? Well it is actually known as the the world is getting smaller by the minute. grammar and spelling, at home we were still a typical plane into Chattrapathi Shivaji airport in Mumbai and city of Fremont but I think I live in the tallest building Sindhi Hindu family. Our lives evolved around Hindi smell Indian soil, I think… “Yay! I’m home!” And which is only five floors high which technically makes A lot of the time, I feel like I’ve come too far west for movies, Monday temple visits, Friday ashram services naturally, tears fall from my eyes when I leave. it a village. I constantly complain about this small my own good making me feel sometimes d(i)splaced and Saturday Bharatnatyam classes followed by city but it is really is not that bad. Because of the in this world, but definitely not in life. However, that Bollywood hip-hop sessions. My memories of my When it came down to choosing a city to head off to amount of Indian influence in this minor metropolis, it said, the world is your oyster and as much as I have childhood are filled with antarkshari afternoons which study, I knew it had to be New York. I had been there has come to gain its name as Little India. It is rather globe-trotted all over the world, I can safely say I am my father and I often won as a tag team and Hindi previously and absolutely loved the city. Manhattan in fitting as it accommodates a popular Indian cinema, hardly lost in translation. movies galore. My parents were also great travelers. itself, is the world on an island. No where else in the a number of Desi supermarkets and restaurants. In all The minute we would have a break from school, we world will you find a mini Korea, Japan, India and China honesty, I initially complained nonstop about living in roshni mulchandani
  10. 10. 19 In a maximum city that runs so fast, it is only when you are still that you can spot the next dion h. opportunity. “i am twenty years between homes, and counting. satish krishnamurthy home is a cloud.”
  11. 11. CUt ShoRt Words are pretty potent things. From Mummy to Roomie. What happens when you wake up a Dream? I`m having Déjà vu about the It’s snowing and I am jubilant. I was whole thing. In Dreams that come so jubilant all through Fall. Spring is true, Life surpasses the time-space on the anvil, I shall be jubilant. I’ll go continuum. home to Summer if I can buy myself nikita shah From city to city, the curious ones go. a ticket out of here. I think I`m here to stay. Love is unconditional yet Life is not. It’s all so amusing and Seekers. Wanderers. Dreamers. Go. anecdotal. Like the stuff you want to A i Going. Gone. I’ve just arrived. I`m make scrapbooks about. Blog worthy. MB a big city girl. They assured me I’ll Solitude begins tasting bad when M U S C At > t o > get by just fine. I`m resting assured. it turns into Loneliness. I`m doing MU I`m just a restless kind of person. It great so far. I’ve just arrived. So busy took two suitcases to pack a lifetime watching busy people going about into. Well, almost. I hate baggage. their businesses. You’ve to internalise Memories are beyond backpacks. a lot of things to adapt faster. Can Thank God. Comfort Zones get too sense I’m going to be real busy real Moving from Muscat, Oman to Mumbai, India I hated the adjustment and the frequent smoke, cushy sometimes. This Life is brand soon. Yearned to be here and got was like moving from a sleepy faraway cottage the easy friendships, the pani puri made with dirty new; in Debit, on Credit. There is lucky. It’s so expensive to keep this in the countryside to a high rise in a bustling city. hands. Today, its home. It matters and it keeps me something so sinister about plastic dream alive. Muscat is the sleepy, towny, cosy city where your running on smoke…packed trains and yummilicious money; you just don’t see the friends know your grandmother’s name, where pani puri.. Muscat is an like an old classic in your damned thing. Out of sight yet on No Rant, please. pongal is celebrated with as much fervour as is aunt’s cellar and Mumbai is like a bestseller chick-lit the mind. All the time.From Paanch Rupaiyaa Baarah Aana to Dollars and So, like I was saying, I awoke once to Hanukkah. While Mumbai is a city in random motion. that mirrors your life and your laughs. Both are dear Pennies. From Dolphin to Orange to a Dream and turns out its American. Sometimes Mumbai shows purpose…other times its to my heart. Airtel to AT&T. What, really? Words are such wasted chaotic is a blissful ignorant way. When I first moved, little things. From family surveillance to a lusty rehab chougle freedom. Let’s meet. Your city or mine?
  12. 12. FROM SAND TO SNOW hoME iS A PlACE My fingers have been frozen more often in the last year of my life than in the previous 23 years combined. In Minnesota, I WhERE yoU CAn BE yoURSElF. WhERE brushed inches of soft, floury snow away from the windshield of my car with a gloved hand almost daily. The remnants of snow on my glove would melt and seep through to the dry, yoU ARE At PEACE. cracked skin beneath. In Oregon, I’ve stooped on my knees and wrestled with putting chains on my tires with stiff, mud-covered fingers, so that I would make it over icy hills and overpasses. I katie grew up in Texas, where winters are mild. I put up most of my Christmas trees in shorts. I had never even seen real snow until I left—had only poked my fingers giddily into an inch or so of icy slush on a handful of memorable occasions. I hadn’t known that snow could be so soft or so dry, that it could be as fine as mist or as heavy as crocodile tears. I didn’t know that on abhishek m. the coldest days, it would blow across pavement like sand or that it really could form perfect, glittering flakes. I didn’t know I could become so tired of the color white. I had a lot to learn when I left. Snow—which had seemed such an obvious thing before I moved across the country, I never considered there was anything to learn about it, except perhaps how to drive in it—was one of the first. 22
  13. 13. IN SEARCH OF MY TREASURE A man, as justification for me to move into his home, remarked, “for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also”. I scoffed, with disdain, at his attempt to bend a spiritual notion to suit his carnal desires. 2 I shunt between two -1 homes. One affords The last few years, though, as I’ve moved from country to country, presumably satisfying my wanderlust, those words have haunted me. =? me freedom, another gives me comfort Home was always a physical place – where my bed was, inhabited by and rest. One lets me those I cared about most. Accordingly, I’m now homeless – most of my breathe, the other lets stuff is in storage, I go to an empty apartment at day’s end, and should I me breathe out. Both not show, my bed will not seek after me. are homes away from the other home. But, has the very scattering of my possessions and loss of physical One home stays awake past proximity to family created this displacement or is it merely an allegorical bedtime, another sleeps too parallel? For a short period I moved back to my parents’ home. Sadly, early. I cannot live without it did not re-settle my heart. I’m disillusioned – unaware if the treasure either. Now I may be facing my my heart seeks is material, human, or spiritual. I do know it no longer biggest fear. I have a feeling tolerates the flux and flight it’s endured the last decade. So I’m eagerly that one home is closing its seeking my treasure, whatever it may be, wherever it may lie, in the hope doors on me. it’ll grant my heart the reprieve it so longs from displacement. 24 araba n. nikhil subramaniam
  14. 14. “ 26 Remember that you have everything to gain when you get displaced. Try as much as possible, to get lost in this Home is the place you leave big bad world. It could turn into the because some of it is rotten greatest lesson of ” your life. and you don’t believe you can repair it. sriram venkitachalam aditya shrikrishna
  15. 15. IMAGE CREDITS All images are the sole property of its owners. Click on the links within to explore more work from these talented photographers/designers. Manojd on Flickr barunpatro on stock.xchng I Travel East on Flickr SanDev on Flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/manojd http://www.sxc.hu/photo/989670 http://www.flickr.com/photos/i_travel_east/3451296269/ http://www.flickr.com/photos/57652915@N00/528146146 www.dsplaced.com dspla c ed@ gma il.c om missbass on stock.xchng ringoc2 on stock.xchng MumbaiVasi on Flickr Free Vector World Map garytamin on stock.xchng lenscap on stock. http://www.sxc.hu/photo/1140347 http://www.sxc.hu/photo/558305 http://www.flickr.com/photos/28307387@ by Studio 7 Designs http://www.sxc.hu/photo/923841 xchng http://www.studio7designs.com/ http://www.sxc.hu/photo/899541 N04/2648518541/sizes/o/ Églantine on Dpup on Flickr chezrump on Flickr Manojd on Flickr doudou on Flickr selvin on Flickr Manojd on Flickr ValeriBishop Flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/ http://www.flickr.com/photos/paulhollingworth/140434906/ http://www.flickr.com/photos/ http://www.flickr.com/photos/22874768@ http://www.flickr.com/photos/ http://www.flickr.com/photos/ http://www.valeriebishop.com/ DESIGNED BY MANOJ DAMODARAN http://www.flickr.com/photos/ dpup/2807037869/sizes/l / manojd manojd eglantine/1072222174/ sizes/o/ N05/2797137513/ selvin/3500590723/ sitebuilder/images/illustration1- www.manojdamodaran.com 966x716.jpg
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