There was a time
when a casual glance
but not a word to say
foretold a happy day
A time when love
seemed magical
And schoolgirl crushes
were perfectly rational
A time when closing your eyes
to a romantic song
You swayed to the music
and hummed along
A time when you believed
in all thats beautiful
In dreams and in reality
you played nobody's fool
But today is different
Ground in harsh reality
Life seems so real
so devoid of beauty
Love is a game
for the young to play
it seems so distant
from where you stand today
Are you a cynic
Or a dreamer gone to sleep?
has time drowned you in its tide
too far and too deep?
Today you listen
to the same good ol' song
and sigh and switch off the ipod
the battery's drained - its been so long.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Thoughts in motion
(Written in the train en route to goa from bangalore)
Sitting by an emergency window has its own advantages. Besides the obvious, its the unhindered view of the world outside that I enjoy. And the world rushes by you as you go chugchugging along to your destination.
A shepherd chasing his lambs and goats down a narrow pathway. Colourful clothes hanging on a clothesline against the uniform green and brown background of nature. A stationmaster standing at a tiny window in tin shed- the green flag fluttering against his white vest. Impatient yet curious faces waiting at a crossing, observing you as though you are a face in a framed potrait. A light rain starts up. I put out a hand- relaxed and lifeless on the windowsill and feel the raindrops on my open palm. They feel like the tears of an old friend. A song comes to mind from nowhere - "pani pani re"
The breeze blows curls of hair all over my face and the familiar train smell of burning fuel clings onto my skin.
The train hurries by at some points and leisurely glides through at other places- just like life. Dark clouds loom all over the sky. They seem to be suspended mid-air by invisible threads, against the light blue sky. The land is dry and tilled- the lines in the soil are furrows of worry on its forehead-awaiting the rain. There are a thousand shades of green in the surroundings. The sky is a bowl of water and the clouds are formed when the gods dip their shaving razors full of soapy froth in the sky bowl. I know that I am tripping and Im enjoying it. The beauty of the moment is making me want to cry. I want the moment to last but I want the jouney to go on. I want life to go on.....
Sitting by an emergency window has its own advantages. Besides the obvious, its the unhindered view of the world outside that I enjoy. And the world rushes by you as you go chugchugging along to your destination.
A shepherd chasing his lambs and goats down a narrow pathway. Colourful clothes hanging on a clothesline against the uniform green and brown background of nature. A stationmaster standing at a tiny window in tin shed- the green flag fluttering against his white vest. Impatient yet curious faces waiting at a crossing, observing you as though you are a face in a framed potrait. A light rain starts up. I put out a hand- relaxed and lifeless on the windowsill and feel the raindrops on my open palm. They feel like the tears of an old friend. A song comes to mind from nowhere - "pani pani re"
The breeze blows curls of hair all over my face and the familiar train smell of burning fuel clings onto my skin.
The train hurries by at some points and leisurely glides through at other places- just like life. Dark clouds loom all over the sky. They seem to be suspended mid-air by invisible threads, against the light blue sky. The land is dry and tilled- the lines in the soil are furrows of worry on its forehead-awaiting the rain. There are a thousand shades of green in the surroundings. The sky is a bowl of water and the clouds are formed when the gods dip their shaving razors full of soapy froth in the sky bowl. I know that I am tripping and Im enjoying it. The beauty of the moment is making me want to cry. I want the moment to last but I want the jouney to go on. I want life to go on.....
Monday, May 28, 2007
Just a thought...
Its amazing how you get attached to fictional characters in books...sometimes even more than how much you allow yourself to be in real life. Its amazing how the make-believe sorrows make you cry or how you laugh with the happiness that is carefully constructed with a melange of words.
And when I think of it...I feel that every page is a key that opens the doors to the character's life. Doors through which you can see every thought of his/hers...good or bad. Doors that let you into the privacy of their bedrooms as easily as they let us access the public porches of their lives. You read into their words that remain unspoken. You know their fears, ambitions, secrets, regrets....the way you can never know a living person. And when the character dies, the loss is as though you have lost an old friend...or maybe even more. Th image that you build in your mind, the face that you construct from bits of words and phrases doesn't leave your mind...and the dull ache remains.
Everytime I decide to maintain that no-mans-land between reality and fiction. And yet I end up crossing it; and when the line between the two blurs, there is no looking back. You see bits of yourself in the characters...the fears that you refuse to accept, the regrets that you refuse to let go, the secrets that you smother inside....somewhere the fiction of our lives connects with the reality of the character.
And when I think of it...I feel that every page is a key that opens the doors to the character's life. Doors through which you can see every thought of his/hers...good or bad. Doors that let you into the privacy of their bedrooms as easily as they let us access the public porches of their lives. You read into their words that remain unspoken. You know their fears, ambitions, secrets, regrets....the way you can never know a living person. And when the character dies, the loss is as though you have lost an old friend...or maybe even more. Th image that you build in your mind, the face that you construct from bits of words and phrases doesn't leave your mind...and the dull ache remains.
Everytime I decide to maintain that no-mans-land between reality and fiction. And yet I end up crossing it; and when the line between the two blurs, there is no looking back. You see bits of yourself in the characters...the fears that you refuse to accept, the regrets that you refuse to let go, the secrets that you smother inside....somewhere the fiction of our lives connects with the reality of the character.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
for all ye bored ppl out there...
Ten odd books leaning on each other, with the cobweb covered wall and a much-read and flipped thru copy of Hitchhiker's Guide (hail douglas adams!!....followed by a brief prostration before the book :) supporting them at one end.The bookmarks peeping over the pages at the world outside. A stack of books at the other end of the table. Magazines, college newsletters, classroom notes, an overdue library book, a colour palette with remnants of a thousand different hues (tip for the shoestring budget students: never ever wash the palette. a drop of water can revive even the deadest and dullest scrap of color :), a pink polythene bag full of poster color bottles, other flotsam and jetsam collected over the semester piled up in one big stack (not the LIFO variety though...sorry to disappoint all ye geeks :)
And sandwiched between the two, a small wooden platform with an idol of god that has accompanied me ever since i left home...and photos of other gods (well....actually just 3 representatives of the 33 crore gods that we have :) before a tired mind indulges in blasphemy lets move on.....
a mug that says "i am one in a million" filled with pens(none of which actually work...they are just for the kleptomaniacs who frequent my room :) and some unsharpened bamboo sticks ( victims of a sudden fascination for calligraphy which died away as soon as the ink dried on the first A-Z trial sheet). The ink bottle hiding behind the mug testifies to the same.
a half-empty bottle of chyawanprash (mama's obedient girl...:) a bottle of fevicol (not for gastronomic reasons...pls note)
a coffee mug which has provided shelter to more specks of dust than to more drops of coffee till now....
photos of my parents and my sister....(home is where the heart is..even after 6 long years :(
a deformed distorted face made out of terracota ( my first experiment in the ceramics lab :)
a yellow smiley softball....the ones which u can gladly fling at the wall and give vent to all your frustrations on a bad day
(next to the deformed terracota face...it seems so paradoxical...almost like life....)
two dvds sitting pretty in their glossy polythene covers. A passive reminder to get rid of the 22 GB of movies thats been occupying my hard disk...
A packet of Tang....(ahmedabad heat and heatstrokes.....)
A tsunamika doll....another doll on a keychain....(a symbol of the "sisterhood" :) and the guardian of a bunch of keys for whom life is always a roller coaster ride :))
A plastic container full of trinkets and the like.....(gals will be gals :)
A laptop for someone who is bored enuff to the sit at 1 am and describe her desk.
A watch whose hands keep shaking with wrath, as though saying "good night bugger...cut the crap and off to sleep"
And sandwiched between the two, a small wooden platform with an idol of god that has accompanied me ever since i left home...and photos of other gods (well....actually just 3 representatives of the 33 crore gods that we have :) before a tired mind indulges in blasphemy lets move on.....
a mug that says "i am one in a million" filled with pens(none of which actually work...they are just for the kleptomaniacs who frequent my room :) and some unsharpened bamboo sticks ( victims of a sudden fascination for calligraphy which died away as soon as the ink dried on the first A-Z trial sheet). The ink bottle hiding behind the mug testifies to the same.
a half-empty bottle of chyawanprash (mama's obedient girl...:) a bottle of fevicol (not for gastronomic reasons...pls note)
a coffee mug which has provided shelter to more specks of dust than to more drops of coffee till now....
photos of my parents and my sister....(home is where the heart is..even after 6 long years :(
a deformed distorted face made out of terracota ( my first experiment in the ceramics lab :)
a yellow smiley softball....the ones which u can gladly fling at the wall and give vent to all your frustrations on a bad day
(next to the deformed terracota face...it seems so paradoxical...almost like life....)
two dvds sitting pretty in their glossy polythene covers. A passive reminder to get rid of the 22 GB of movies thats been occupying my hard disk...
A packet of Tang....(ahmedabad heat and heatstrokes.....)
A tsunamika doll....another doll on a keychain....(a symbol of the "sisterhood" :) and the guardian of a bunch of keys for whom life is always a roller coaster ride :))
A plastic container full of trinkets and the like.....(gals will be gals :)
A laptop for someone who is bored enuff to the sit at 1 am and describe her desk.
A watch whose hands keep shaking with wrath, as though saying "good night bugger...cut the crap and off to sleep"
Saturday, February 17, 2007
mid-afternoon blues
Anguish rises to the throat like bitter bile from a much-starved stomach!!! It drowns the words, silences the scream and strangles the breath!!! A solitary tear finds its way to the eyes. Falling down softly over the cheek, leaving a trail of miseries behind…catharsis.
Pain is stabbing the heart with a sharp dagger blunted at the tip. Ripples of pain wash over the lub-dubbing lump of flesh and fade away. They don’t reach the face….they don’t reach the ends of the lips, curved in a smile. A song is playing in the background “Why are you smiling so much beloved…what pain are you hiding behind that smile?” Life creates beautiful montages in its wake…
Why the pain? Why the pangs that arise at irregular intervals making one wanting to scream in anguish and pour the cup that brimmeth over in one’s eyes for the world to see? PUO I call it….pain of unknown origin. A steely resolve grips the heart. A quivering lip bites on a finger….an amnesiac mind racks itself for a beautiful memory. And the canvas splattered with visceral pain is painted over with a collage of happy memories. Forgetting is haute couture…camouflage is street fashion…
A pair of kohl-lined eyed are looking out of the open door at the world outside. The birds are reveling on the tree in the soft evening light. The evening brings to her doorstep a procession of unannounced visitors as faces from the past file in through the door and enter her mind. The tree is dancing in a thousand blurred images. She wipes her eyes and closes the door. Darkness rushes in through the crack in the door. Darkness is her anodyne…..
Pain is stabbing the heart with a sharp dagger blunted at the tip. Ripples of pain wash over the lub-dubbing lump of flesh and fade away. They don’t reach the face….they don’t reach the ends of the lips, curved in a smile. A song is playing in the background “Why are you smiling so much beloved…what pain are you hiding behind that smile?” Life creates beautiful montages in its wake…
Why the pain? Why the pangs that arise at irregular intervals making one wanting to scream in anguish and pour the cup that brimmeth over in one’s eyes for the world to see? PUO I call it….pain of unknown origin. A steely resolve grips the heart. A quivering lip bites on a finger….an amnesiac mind racks itself for a beautiful memory. And the canvas splattered with visceral pain is painted over with a collage of happy memories. Forgetting is haute couture…camouflage is street fashion…
A pair of kohl-lined eyed are looking out of the open door at the world outside. The birds are reveling on the tree in the soft evening light. The evening brings to her doorstep a procession of unannounced visitors as faces from the past file in through the door and enter her mind. The tree is dancing in a thousand blurred images. She wipes her eyes and closes the door. Darkness rushes in through the crack in the door. Darkness is her anodyne…..
Saturday, December 23, 2006
Fallin to temptation
There was no Adam..there was just an 'Eve'
The place was not paradise...
The serpent....welll....there were a few !!!
She resisted.....but she cudnt...
with the feeling she cudnt grapple
and finally she fell to temptation.....
A bite from the apple.....!!!
n thats the story so far
c'est tous....c'est ca.....!!!!!
Saturday, December 16, 2006
jus like that.....
sometimes the world smiles at you
sometimes it conspires against you.....
sometimes the truth seems so harsh
and sometimes the vilest lie is true....
isnt life complicated my friend ?
doesnt it trouble your head
sometimes u just surrender to it
and at times u try to get ahead....
oh rave and rant as much
tomorrow is another day
today i'm burdened with thoughts
tomorrow i cast it all away :)
sometimes it conspires against you.....
sometimes the truth seems so harsh
and sometimes the vilest lie is true....
isnt life complicated my friend ?
doesnt it trouble your head
sometimes u just surrender to it
and at times u try to get ahead....
oh rave and rant as much
tomorrow is another day
today i'm burdened with thoughts
tomorrow i cast it all away :)
Monday, October 09, 2006
Going in circles....
The more I learn....the more I realise how much I dont know, the more I feel like a failure, the more I strive to become a success, the more I try to learn.....
I am but a dot being taken for a ride in this vicious circle.
And Iam enjoyin it...... :)
I am but a dot being taken for a ride in this vicious circle.
And Iam enjoyin it...... :)
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Uncapped memories.....
I went to the store yesterday with one of my friends who wanted to get some shopping done. I just wandered around the store in my trademark style, checking out the stationary and wondering how on earth can a box of pencil colors cost 500 Rs/-
And then suddenly my friend ran up to me....clearly very excited about something.
She waved a orange and white can in my face "guess what this is?"
"A deo" I was confused as to what had her gettin all excited about a deo !!!!
"Its Cuticura yaaar.....remember? As kids we used to get Cuticura talc in the orange and white tins which used to rust too soon !!!! They have come out with deos now !! just check it out"
And she sprayed it on the back of my hand. A whiff of it....
Unknowingly my friend had uncapped a whole lot of memories bottled inside me.
Memories of spending the summer vacations in a big house which surprisingly never tired out my tiny feet....
Memories of sitting on the porch and listening to the roar of the sea while mom oiled my hair with freshly made coconut oil....
Memories of playing 'ludo' with my grandmother and howling at the top of my voice after losing the game.....
Memories of my uncle as he lifted me up to peep into the parrot's cage....and pulled me away the moment I put my little finger in for the parrot to bite....
Memories of eating the mango pickle which was always a little more salty to last longer...
Memories of the storeroom with creaky doors which had all the mangoes and jackfruits kept in it...and yet was too spooky for any of the kids to even attempt to enter it...
Memories of the entire family gathering together for a late-night game of cards...with the loser going to bed with an extra duty of making 'chai' for everyone next morning.....
Memories of walking to the beach just in time to say 'gotcha' to the sun hiding behind the ocean...and coming back home with a thin film of salt water and sand coating our tiny bodies...
Memories of evening prayers said in unison and touching 20 odd pairs of feet to seek blessings so that I might stand first in class...
Memories of a mirror with a wooden frame...part of my grandmother's dowry !!! watching myself in the mirror...combing my knotty hair with the comb which lost teeth faster than a child....and taking the rusty tin of Cuticura talc to transform myself into Snow White "mirror mirror on the wall...who's the fairest of them all"
Memories of old photographs hanging in the drawing room....looking down at us with approving glances....unhampered by the garlands that hung around them.....unseen unknown forefathers from a different era coming to life through black, white and sepia....
"Doesn't the smell remind you of childhood?", my friend had a dreamy look about her....
But I wasn't there to reply.....I was sitting on the porch in a farway place in the seaside house, under a flickering bulb....watching my grandmother cleaning the fish for the night's dinner !!!!
And then suddenly my friend ran up to me....clearly very excited about something.
She waved a orange and white can in my face "guess what this is?"
"A deo" I was confused as to what had her gettin all excited about a deo !!!!
"Its Cuticura yaaar.....remember? As kids we used to get Cuticura talc in the orange and white tins which used to rust too soon !!!! They have come out with deos now !! just check it out"
And she sprayed it on the back of my hand. A whiff of it....
Unknowingly my friend had uncapped a whole lot of memories bottled inside me.
Memories of spending the summer vacations in a big house which surprisingly never tired out my tiny feet....
Memories of sitting on the porch and listening to the roar of the sea while mom oiled my hair with freshly made coconut oil....
Memories of playing 'ludo' with my grandmother and howling at the top of my voice after losing the game.....
Memories of my uncle as he lifted me up to peep into the parrot's cage....and pulled me away the moment I put my little finger in for the parrot to bite....
Memories of eating the mango pickle which was always a little more salty to last longer...
Memories of the storeroom with creaky doors which had all the mangoes and jackfruits kept in it...and yet was too spooky for any of the kids to even attempt to enter it...
Memories of the entire family gathering together for a late-night game of cards...with the loser going to bed with an extra duty of making 'chai' for everyone next morning.....
Memories of walking to the beach just in time to say 'gotcha' to the sun hiding behind the ocean...and coming back home with a thin film of salt water and sand coating our tiny bodies...
Memories of evening prayers said in unison and touching 20 odd pairs of feet to seek blessings so that I might stand first in class...
Memories of a mirror with a wooden frame...part of my grandmother's dowry !!! watching myself in the mirror...combing my knotty hair with the comb which lost teeth faster than a child....and taking the rusty tin of Cuticura talc to transform myself into Snow White "mirror mirror on the wall...who's the fairest of them all"
Memories of old photographs hanging in the drawing room....looking down at us with approving glances....unhampered by the garlands that hung around them.....unseen unknown forefathers from a different era coming to life through black, white and sepia....
"Doesn't the smell remind you of childhood?", my friend had a dreamy look about her....
But I wasn't there to reply.....I was sitting on the porch in a farway place in the seaside house, under a flickering bulb....watching my grandmother cleaning the fish for the night's dinner !!!!
Sunday, September 24, 2006
The butterfly effect
"I have got some news to tell you", she whispered to me. Leaning across the table with her lean arms, she looked every bit secretive and conspiring as she sounded. Her almond eyes were narrowed in an unconscious attempt at highlighting her words.
I took a huge gulp of my latte and braced myself for the latest chunk of gossip that I expected her to come out with.
"You know Rajiv right? Of course, you know him.....you share a common friend right? Whats his name now???? The guy with the funny spiky hairstyle that makes him seem soooo gay....."
"Aniruddh. Anyway what were you about to tell me?" I cut in with the impatience so very typical of true-blood Ariens.
"Relax honey....whats the big hurry?" She winked and went on to light a cigarette. Marlboro Lights....her usual....!! She took two drags and blew rings of smoke in the air above us. Seeeing the faint crease of contempt on my forehead, she laughed....the usual mocking laughter Iam so used to.
"Yeah....so the point is.....well...Rajiv and I are...whaddya call it... "going STTEEADDYY" !! She rolled the last word on her tongue to add to the effect. Two thin fingers were making double quotes in the air.
"WHHAATT???? But you were....I mean...I thought Pritam was....." I stopped abruptly...suddenly aware of how incoherent I sounded.
"Yep...Pritam and I were going steady....But you see....its all very unsteady now"
The same mocking laughter rang out again...maybe a tinge of sadness in it
"Cut out the crap Dorah"...The suspense was just killing me.
"Okay...fine" She took one more long drag on her cigarette and flicked the ash on the scarlet red tablecloth. "Lemme put it this way. You see that butterfly there? If you try to hold on to it, pinch its wings between your fingers, enclose it inside your fist...do you think it will be happy? Do you think it will stay? No...mon cher ami....it will just fly off. Pritam treats me just the same way....I feel so...so f#$$%#$ stifled". She finished her Irish coffee in two quick gulps. I was still toying with my latte.
"But Rajiv...he is such a sweetheart. He knows I want my freedom. He lets me free....and I choose to go back to him and be near him....just like the butterfly. Life's so much better with him. I thought about it a lot....and I have come to a decision...so please dont try to talk any wordly sense into my head"
I guess she would have seen the thoughtful look on my face. I buried my face in my cuppa coffee.
She dug out a 100 Rs note from the back pocket of her denims and put it on the bill. It didnt take me all my engineering studies to know that the discussion was over. I picked up my backpack and stood up.
"Rajiv treats me just like a butterfly. And guess what...with all the experience that I have with men...I can bet my a$% that even if tomorrow I were to become a moth...he wud still treat me like a butterfly"....With a final mocking laugh she ruthlessly flicked the cigaratte butt into the ash tray...the coup-de-grace
As we walked outside....I stopped to enjoy the pleasant late spring weather. Four or five butterflies hovered above our head. Lovely, colourful creatures...they were busy in a dance of their own....oblivious to the fact that they make and break relationships, blissfully ignorant of the realisation that complex human decisions are based on their simple and seemingly useless dance.
I wondered.....and moved on....
I took a huge gulp of my latte and braced myself for the latest chunk of gossip that I expected her to come out with.
"You know Rajiv right? Of course, you know him.....you share a common friend right? Whats his name now???? The guy with the funny spiky hairstyle that makes him seem soooo gay....."
"Aniruddh. Anyway what were you about to tell me?" I cut in with the impatience so very typical of true-blood Ariens.
"Relax honey....whats the big hurry?" She winked and went on to light a cigarette. Marlboro Lights....her usual....!! She took two drags and blew rings of smoke in the air above us. Seeeing the faint crease of contempt on my forehead, she laughed....the usual mocking laughter Iam so used to.
"Yeah....so the point is.....well...Rajiv and I are...whaddya call it... "going STTEEADDYY" !! She rolled the last word on her tongue to add to the effect. Two thin fingers were making double quotes in the air.
"WHHAATT???? But you were....I mean...I thought Pritam was....." I stopped abruptly...suddenly aware of how incoherent I sounded.
"Yep...Pritam and I were going steady....But you see....its all very unsteady now"
The same mocking laughter rang out again...maybe a tinge of sadness in it
"Cut out the crap Dorah"...The suspense was just killing me.
"Okay...fine" She took one more long drag on her cigarette and flicked the ash on the scarlet red tablecloth. "Lemme put it this way. You see that butterfly there? If you try to hold on to it, pinch its wings between your fingers, enclose it inside your fist...do you think it will be happy? Do you think it will stay? No...mon cher ami....it will just fly off. Pritam treats me just the same way....I feel so...so f#$$%#$ stifled". She finished her Irish coffee in two quick gulps. I was still toying with my latte.
"But Rajiv...he is such a sweetheart. He knows I want my freedom. He lets me free....and I choose to go back to him and be near him....just like the butterfly. Life's so much better with him. I thought about it a lot....and I have come to a decision...so please dont try to talk any wordly sense into my head"
I guess she would have seen the thoughtful look on my face. I buried my face in my cuppa coffee.
She dug out a 100 Rs note from the back pocket of her denims and put it on the bill. It didnt take me all my engineering studies to know that the discussion was over. I picked up my backpack and stood up.
"Rajiv treats me just like a butterfly. And guess what...with all the experience that I have with men...I can bet my a$% that even if tomorrow I were to become a moth...he wud still treat me like a butterfly"....With a final mocking laugh she ruthlessly flicked the cigaratte butt into the ash tray...the coup-de-grace
As we walked outside....I stopped to enjoy the pleasant late spring weather. Four or five butterflies hovered above our head. Lovely, colourful creatures...they were busy in a dance of their own....oblivious to the fact that they make and break relationships, blissfully ignorant of the realisation that complex human decisions are based on their simple and seemingly useless dance.
I wondered.....and moved on....
Monday, August 28, 2006
Musings....once again
I am standing at the metro station....the after-office crowds are jostling me as they hurry on to waiting wives and eager kids waiting for their chocolates. A particuarly hefty man pushes me dangerously close to the tracks. All the 'sorries' and 'its okays' said and done, he carries on...while i resume my earlier position next to the pillar. There is a one-legged beggar sitting at the next pillar. 10 pairs of well-shod feet pass by. 3 coins land in the rusty pan infront of him. 3 Rs to feed a stomach that has been starving for 3 days....I walk towards him and put a 10 Rs note into the pan. The note rustles uneasily in the loud company that it has encountered. The beggar looks at me with disbelieving eyes which cloud the rumbling of a hungry stomach. I smile and walk on. On other days I wouldn't have given him a second look. But today is not just another day. Today....I am lonely. Lonely in the company of a thousand strangers. Lonely in a blur of faces which seem as though they are cast out of the same mould of apathy. And loneliness recognizes loneliness.....we both are lost.....clamouring for attention in a busy world.....which has no time for individuals like us.
Lonely......the very word has a melancholic feel to it.....!!!! You cannot say the word with a smile on your face.....and yet am smiling....as I softly repeat the word over and over again to myself....!!! A small tear teases the corner of my eye and then runs away as my eyelids try to hold it back..... It slides down my cheek and upper lip and lands with a gentle 'splat' on my tongue....!!!
maybe this is what they call swallowing one's sadness.....
I tell myself I am not alone......there is a whole world out there waiting for me...caring for me......and i hear a tiny voice callin out to me....'who u kiddin buddy?' There is a soft nudge at my waist. A small boy is selling magazines.....He thrusts a magazine into my hand.....a scantily clad woman stares at me with sultry eyes....!!!! The boy catches my eye and gives that knowing look......!!! Two dimensional fantasies are a good anodyne for four-dimensional problems....!!! I return the magazine to him with a stern shake of my head. He gives me the same confused look that the beggar that given me earlier......and then another knowing look....!! I choose not to dispel the doubts that he has over my orientation....and walk away disgusted
We are together again...me and my solitude....!! We make quite a happy couple......content in each other's company, revelling in each other's undivided attention, walking hand-in-hand to a common destnation....a common destiny....
Two hands go up in the air at a nearby distance.....two grinning faces approach us. Acquaintances.....fellow travellers who u meet on the way in this journey called life....spend some time together and then they either walk move ahead or lag behind, only to catch up with you at unsuspecting turns on the road. They suggest coffee at the Espresso-express coffee bar on 19th lane....I hesistate...!!! The station is a cocoon....a shroud that I have willingly pulled over myself....I am a child cowering inside the safety of this big blanket......
My hesitation doesn't go down well with them and they half-drag me out of the station and into the auto waiting outside.
After a good 15 minutes of red signals and honking drivers and smoke spewing trucks....there we are in the cushioned comfort of mellow coffee smell and lounge music. We have grown apart...me and my loneliness..it seems to have taken a dislike for my new company.
Orders are placed...orders are taken....irish coffees and mochachinos are in the making....
They seem to have started on a private conversation of their own.....between whisperings and mock slaps and rolled eyes....they have to have escaped to a world of their own. I am a silent spectator - like a person on the doorstep peering into the house, watching the drama unfolding in the living room of an unknown house.
Now they seem to be getting into an argument.....it is followed by a fight....a mock duel where the only objective of the fighters is proximity to each other ! The waiter returns with the coffees and interuppts the fight with a polite clearing of the throat....in a very 'butler'ly manner.
Intimacy mingles with bitter coffee smell......oblivious to the bitterness of the eyes that are peering down into the cup more out of uneasiness than out of interest in watching the swirling cream in the coffee liquer. Shuffling feet stop each other from rising...until they come to a consensus....!!! I excuse myself....a urgent work has cropped up....I need to leave.....
They throw a carelessly said 'hope u had a great time' at my back as i walk out......I cant stop a smile....
My solitude follows me......and this time we walk on in undisturbed peace......
Lonely......the very word has a melancholic feel to it.....!!!! You cannot say the word with a smile on your face.....and yet am smiling....as I softly repeat the word over and over again to myself....!!! A small tear teases the corner of my eye and then runs away as my eyelids try to hold it back..... It slides down my cheek and upper lip and lands with a gentle 'splat' on my tongue....!!!
maybe this is what they call swallowing one's sadness.....
I tell myself I am not alone......there is a whole world out there waiting for me...caring for me......and i hear a tiny voice callin out to me....'who u kiddin buddy?' There is a soft nudge at my waist. A small boy is selling magazines.....He thrusts a magazine into my hand.....a scantily clad woman stares at me with sultry eyes....!!!! The boy catches my eye and gives that knowing look......!!! Two dimensional fantasies are a good anodyne for four-dimensional problems....!!! I return the magazine to him with a stern shake of my head. He gives me the same confused look that the beggar that given me earlier......and then another knowing look....!! I choose not to dispel the doubts that he has over my orientation....and walk away disgusted
We are together again...me and my solitude....!! We make quite a happy couple......content in each other's company, revelling in each other's undivided attention, walking hand-in-hand to a common destnation....a common destiny....
Two hands go up in the air at a nearby distance.....two grinning faces approach us. Acquaintances.....fellow travellers who u meet on the way in this journey called life....spend some time together and then they either walk move ahead or lag behind, only to catch up with you at unsuspecting turns on the road. They suggest coffee at the Espresso-express coffee bar on 19th lane....I hesistate...!!! The station is a cocoon....a shroud that I have willingly pulled over myself....I am a child cowering inside the safety of this big blanket......
My hesitation doesn't go down well with them and they half-drag me out of the station and into the auto waiting outside.
After a good 15 minutes of red signals and honking drivers and smoke spewing trucks....there we are in the cushioned comfort of mellow coffee smell and lounge music. We have grown apart...me and my loneliness..it seems to have taken a dislike for my new company.
Orders are placed...orders are taken....irish coffees and mochachinos are in the making....
They seem to have started on a private conversation of their own.....between whisperings and mock slaps and rolled eyes....they have to have escaped to a world of their own. I am a silent spectator - like a person on the doorstep peering into the house, watching the drama unfolding in the living room of an unknown house.
Now they seem to be getting into an argument.....it is followed by a fight....a mock duel where the only objective of the fighters is proximity to each other ! The waiter returns with the coffees and interuppts the fight with a polite clearing of the throat....in a very 'butler'ly manner.
Intimacy mingles with bitter coffee smell......oblivious to the bitterness of the eyes that are peering down into the cup more out of uneasiness than out of interest in watching the swirling cream in the coffee liquer. Shuffling feet stop each other from rising...until they come to a consensus....!!! I excuse myself....a urgent work has cropped up....I need to leave.....
They throw a carelessly said 'hope u had a great time' at my back as i walk out......I cant stop a smile....
My solitude follows me......and this time we walk on in undisturbed peace......
Saturday, August 05, 2006
reflections...
they laugh and dance in drunken stupor.....the smoke clouds their blissful smiles...but they dont seem to notice..while the sober minds sit back and analyse....!!!!
who is stupid ? them or us ?
who is happy ? them or us ?
all their happiness is contained in their glasses....glinting clinking glasses shining in the crooked rays of the nightlamp. ours is contained somewhere deep inside....the light not seeping through....
drops of fizzy nothing mean everthing to them....they..the blissful souls..the creatures of the night....
sometimes i wonder.....what happiness is.....
who is stupid ? them or us ?
who is happy ? them or us ?
all their happiness is contained in their glasses....glinting clinking glasses shining in the crooked rays of the nightlamp. ours is contained somewhere deep inside....the light not seeping through....
drops of fizzy nothing mean everthing to them....they..the blissful souls..the creatures of the night....
sometimes i wonder.....what happiness is.....
Thursday, August 03, 2006
comfortably numb...
The digits on the cellphone screen show 11.55 pm. The rain is strumming on the windowsill...i hum along in a steady rythm !!! The mannequins accompany me in a silent symphony. Those eyeless, mouthless figures who are bound to their destiny by layers of fabric and flimsy thread.
There are footsteps outside. I look up from my table. No one. I am still the sole person in the room. Peace. I get back to my drawing board. The breeze blowing in through the open window is fast lulling the paint into a deep crusty sleep. I wake it up with two little drops of water..and there it is awake again..flowing with energy !!! I feel happy for no apparent reason. The paintbrush dances away in a state of inebriated bliss on the paper....its bold trail adding to my joy...snails, raindrops, swaying green fields, swirls of colour drown me....im drowning...gulping greedily...
A careless drop of paint spills on the paper...an involuntary scream echoes in the vast expanse of the room. The mannequins mock in dumb amusement...
I feel guilty...sad...and I walk to the window to watch the rain...
There are mails waiting to be read....forgotten blogs lying in dormant disconnected wait....there is a whole world out there with a 'me' shaped hole in it....but the curtain of colour has designs on me. It surrounds me, smothers me...refuses to let go and I surrender with sheer passion.
I get back to my drawing board. The digits on the cell phone have morphed into 12 shaped squiggles.
I can hear a computer keyboard tapping away furiously....in some far far away land in some remote past !!!! It seems angry, frustrated, helpless....
There is a rythmic sound fast catching up and drowing out the keyboard's cries.....
I turn around and scan the room for the source of the sound....I can't hear the keyboard anymore....the newer sound is louder now....a musical rythm floats around....and then I see it....the sewing machine...
I laugh till tears stain the paper.....but somehow I don't mind it.....!!
I think they call it midnight madness...
There are footsteps outside. I look up from my table. No one. I am still the sole person in the room. Peace. I get back to my drawing board. The breeze blowing in through the open window is fast lulling the paint into a deep crusty sleep. I wake it up with two little drops of water..and there it is awake again..flowing with energy !!! I feel happy for no apparent reason. The paintbrush dances away in a state of inebriated bliss on the paper....its bold trail adding to my joy...snails, raindrops, swaying green fields, swirls of colour drown me....im drowning...gulping greedily...
A careless drop of paint spills on the paper...an involuntary scream echoes in the vast expanse of the room. The mannequins mock in dumb amusement...
I feel guilty...sad...and I walk to the window to watch the rain...
There are mails waiting to be read....forgotten blogs lying in dormant disconnected wait....there is a whole world out there with a 'me' shaped hole in it....but the curtain of colour has designs on me. It surrounds me, smothers me...refuses to let go and I surrender with sheer passion.
I get back to my drawing board. The digits on the cell phone have morphed into 12 shaped squiggles.
I can hear a computer keyboard tapping away furiously....in some far far away land in some remote past !!!! It seems angry, frustrated, helpless....
There is a rythmic sound fast catching up and drowing out the keyboard's cries.....
I turn around and scan the room for the source of the sound....I can't hear the keyboard anymore....the newer sound is louder now....a musical rythm floats around....and then I see it....the sewing machine...
I laugh till tears stain the paper.....but somehow I don't mind it.....!!
I think they call it midnight madness...
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Ahmeda-(not-so)-bad :)
So here I was...at the Ahmedabad railway station...me and my three bags...running well over a quintal in total weight (courtesy my three bags :) !!!
And then to cut a long story short....to put all the mundane events in the FF mode....auto rickshaw->NID->NID hostel->orientations->classes->new friends->new roommates followed.
* This is the third time in 5 years that am shopping for the 'mattress-pillow-bucket-mug' combo !!!! Nomadic life at its best :)
* The balcony of my room offers a beautiful view of the Sabarmati river. Working till 4 am and then gazing at the river through the inky darkness of the night....a feeling beyond mere words !!
* Yesterday was my first taste of rain in Ahmedabad....it rained for a good one hour.....!!! neither the hell-scorned rainfall of Goa nor the now-u-see-it-now-u-dont rainfall of bangalore...!! a soft caressing rainfall...soft enuf not to hurt and yet hard enuf to drench !!!! and not a single soul with a raincoat or an umbrella!!! bikes, pedestrians, old, young, students, bags moved alike on the roads enjoying the drops getting into their eyes and open mouths....!!! Now thats called the spirit of monsoon :)
And then to cut a long story short....to put all the mundane events in the FF mode....auto rickshaw->NID->NID hostel->orientations->classes->new friends->new roommates followed.
* This is the third time in 5 years that am shopping for the 'mattress-pillow-bucket-mug' combo !!!! Nomadic life at its best :)
* The balcony of my room offers a beautiful view of the Sabarmati river. Working till 4 am and then gazing at the river through the inky darkness of the night....a feeling beyond mere words !!
* Yesterday was my first taste of rain in Ahmedabad....it rained for a good one hour.....!!! neither the hell-scorned rainfall of Goa nor the now-u-see-it-now-u-dont rainfall of bangalore...!! a soft caressing rainfall...soft enuf not to hurt and yet hard enuf to drench !!!! and not a single soul with a raincoat or an umbrella!!! bikes, pedestrians, old, young, students, bags moved alike on the roads enjoying the drops getting into their eyes and open mouths....!!! Now thats called the spirit of monsoon :)
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Moodpic...
I am waiting.... for what? I dont know...
for whom? I dont see...
for how long? I dont count...
what will be at the end of it? I don't care...
and yet Iam waiting.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Random???Maybe...
A packet of lays.Floating castle.Google earth.near-death-encounters.Planes.Thunderstorms.Missed chances.Leaning Tower of Pisa. Podcasts.
George Bush.Chewing gum.Coffee shops.Jazz.Europe.Itunes.Hurricane
Katrina.Nazis.Times Square.Job security.Switzerland.MBA.Password.S*** pool.Bright
kid.Sinusitis.Disneyland.Concentration camps.LBS.Wireless.ID Card.Racial discrimination.Visa.Pink slip.Dinner plans.Cab booking.Germany.Unaccepted calls.Test cricket.Photography.Bad landings.Regrets.DNS(not the networking term...u dodo).Bangalore-to-Goa.Interns.France.Radio.Shane Warne.Lopsided grins.Statue of Liberty.Tapped phone-calls.Smoking Gun.GMAT.Advertisements.Team leadership.Design.Cotton.2 hours....
It was a much desired conversation that quite unexpectedly landed on my palm like an elusive drop of mercury; and then slipped out through the crinkled ends of my hand when i held onto it...into a thousand pearls of random words....leaving behind a silvery trail on the lines on my hand.
George Bush.Chewing gum.Coffee shops.Jazz.Europe.Itunes.Hurricane
Katrina.Nazis.Times Square.Job security.Switzerland.MBA.Password.S*** pool.Bright
kid.Sinusitis.Disneyland.Concentration camps.LBS.Wireless.ID Card.Racial discrimination.Visa.Pink slip.Dinner plans.Cab booking.Germany.Unaccepted calls.Test cricket.Photography.Bad landings.Regrets.DNS(not the networking term...u dodo).Bangalore-to-Goa.Interns.France.Radio.Shane Warne.Lopsided grins.Statue of Liberty.Tapped phone-calls.Smoking Gun.GMAT.Advertisements.Team leadership.Design.Cotton.2 hours....
It was a much desired conversation that quite unexpectedly landed on my palm like an elusive drop of mercury; and then slipped out through the crinkled ends of my hand when i held onto it...into a thousand pearls of random words....leaving behind a silvery trail on the lines on my hand.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Linked to Pictionary...
Check out my first post on Pictionary !!!
Anyone wanting to join Pictionary...please drop me a line !!!
The rules of the game are simple
1. get a pic
2. form a story around it
In the same order that is....
Anyone wanting to join Pictionary...please drop me a line !!!
The rules of the game are simple
1. get a pic
2. form a story around it
In the same order that is....
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Pages from the past...
Its been a while since this blog has seen some action....!!!!
Well...pardonez moi for the lack of new concoction......!!!!
The apologies done with...this is a draft that I composed maybe a month back. It was renegated to the long list of drafts adorning my blogger dashboard...!!! I just discovered it now...and found it very amusing that the very fact that it is an incomplete draft is ironical considering the content of the intended post...!!!
Check it out...!!
For all those people who were a part of my life...and now are nothing more than smiling faces in my album. Flashes from the past reentering my mind on a reminiscing trip...only to be renegated again to a amnesiac memory.
For all those people...about whom I knew every little detail...the scar on the right eyebrow, the dark brown pupils set distinctly against the white of the eye in perfect dark-chocolated rimmed circles. They are now blurs..blobs of flesh fading away into the distance.
For all those people...who are still a part of my life...and yet arent a part of my life. Voices heard on the phone...on birthdays, festivals...
Well...pardonez moi for the lack of new concoction......!!!!
The apologies done with...this is a draft that I composed maybe a month back. It was renegated to the long list of drafts adorning my blogger dashboard...!!! I just discovered it now...and found it very amusing that the very fact that it is an incomplete draft is ironical considering the content of the intended post...!!!
Check it out...!!
For all those people who were a part of my life...and now are nothing more than smiling faces in my album. Flashes from the past reentering my mind on a reminiscing trip...only to be renegated again to a amnesiac memory.
For all those people...about whom I knew every little detail...the scar on the right eyebrow, the dark brown pupils set distinctly against the white of the eye in perfect dark-chocolated rimmed circles. They are now blurs..blobs of flesh fading away into the distance.
For all those people...who are still a part of my life...and yet arent a part of my life. Voices heard on the phone...on birthdays, festivals...
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
I am...
I am the evening sun...
wanting to rest my tired self...wanting to immerse myself in the calming waters of the ocean..!! And yet I cannot...for the little boy answering his exams is clinging onto my last rays. I cannot let him down.
I am the express train...
passing through the lush green fields, gazing at the meandering river..its crystal clear waters sparkling like diamonds. I long to run through the fields...the yellow mustard flowers beckon me.!! And yet I cannot leave my track...for the seven hundred passengers have trusted me with their lives. I cannot let them down.
I am the water bearer...
the leather water bag grinding into my hip. The hot desert sun burning onto my parched skin. The mirages playing hide and seek with my delirious mind. Eternal sleep beckons me.!! And yet I cannot...for the desert life awaits me with thristy eyes. It has trusted me with the elixir of life. I cannot let it down.
I am Atlas...
shoulders sagging with the weight of the earth and its worries. The flat ground invites me to lay down...my spine in perfect harmony with the ground. And yet I cannot...for I lifted the weight onto my shoulders...for today..for eternity.
And I cannot let myself down.
Amen !!
wanting to rest my tired self...wanting to immerse myself in the calming waters of the ocean..!! And yet I cannot...for the little boy answering his exams is clinging onto my last rays. I cannot let him down.
I am the express train...
passing through the lush green fields, gazing at the meandering river..its crystal clear waters sparkling like diamonds. I long to run through the fields...the yellow mustard flowers beckon me.!! And yet I cannot leave my track...for the seven hundred passengers have trusted me with their lives. I cannot let them down.
I am the water bearer...
the leather water bag grinding into my hip. The hot desert sun burning onto my parched skin. The mirages playing hide and seek with my delirious mind. Eternal sleep beckons me.!! And yet I cannot...for the desert life awaits me with thristy eyes. It has trusted me with the elixir of life. I cannot let it down.
I am Atlas...
shoulders sagging with the weight of the earth and its worries. The flat ground invites me to lay down...my spine in perfect harmony with the ground. And yet I cannot...for I lifted the weight onto my shoulders...for today..for eternity.
And I cannot let myself down.
Amen !!
Friday, March 10, 2006
but it rained...
It rained in Bangalore last night. Not the multi-directional jets hitting you with the fury of the heavens, the way it does in Goa. But a light drizzle..just enough to soak the earth and adorn the breeze with that smell which can give Chanel a run for their money...only if it can be packed in a bottle.
I stepped onto the road at 9.30 in the morning and the breeze hit my face..gently...just like a mother lightly slapping a child for making a cheeky comment. The divine smell had persisted through the night in the cracks of the tarred road and was now rising upwards with the heat of the morning rays.
I carefully negotiated the wet patches on the road, not wanting to get my sandals all wet and dirty. The road was jammed...as always. Bikes and autos alike were being manouvered through the gaps, drivers at their slithering best.
I hailed an auto "C V Raman Nagar chalna hai" !!! "10 Rs extra madam" !!! usual story....waited for 5 minutes. After 6 autos, one which didnt come with a price tag of +10 extra !!! Its become an everyday duel...the autowallah v/s me...prize at stake..10 Rs..and maybe a deeper sense of pride and principle.
The auto inched ahead through the traffic. The heady smell of the soaked earth transported me to a different place...to a different age.
An age of new raincoats which oddly smelt of bubblegum; the mickey mouse prints smiling incorrigibly at the raindrops pelting down. An age of opening new fresh notebooks with lines in set of three...and smelling the pages. Polished black shoes getting soaked in the puddles, the water seeping up through the nylon socks. Umbrellas turning inside out with the strong breeze. Uniforms not drying in the rainy days...the sheer joy of wearing casual clothes to school. Splashing water on the puny kid who always had a runny nose. Endless memories pouring down...just like raindrops that poured down in those days. crystal clear droplets mirroring moments lost in the years.
"Yahaan se left...haan bas yahhin rok dijiye" I had reached office.
After paying him 30 Rs (even these electronic meters are rigged!!), I walked along the driveway to the entrance. The huge airconditioned edifice stood before me, intimidating, stifling.....!!!! I looked at the beehive hanging down from the roof....the bees were involved in a dance of their own...carefree creatures of the world. I took one deep breath and swiped my card. The whiff would last me a day...
I stepped onto the road at 9.30 in the morning and the breeze hit my face..gently...just like a mother lightly slapping a child for making a cheeky comment. The divine smell had persisted through the night in the cracks of the tarred road and was now rising upwards with the heat of the morning rays.
I carefully negotiated the wet patches on the road, not wanting to get my sandals all wet and dirty. The road was jammed...as always. Bikes and autos alike were being manouvered through the gaps, drivers at their slithering best.
I hailed an auto "C V Raman Nagar chalna hai" !!! "10 Rs extra madam" !!! usual story....waited for 5 minutes. After 6 autos, one which didnt come with a price tag of +10 extra !!! Its become an everyday duel...the autowallah v/s me...prize at stake..10 Rs..and maybe a deeper sense of pride and principle.
The auto inched ahead through the traffic. The heady smell of the soaked earth transported me to a different place...to a different age.
An age of new raincoats which oddly smelt of bubblegum; the mickey mouse prints smiling incorrigibly at the raindrops pelting down. An age of opening new fresh notebooks with lines in set of three...and smelling the pages. Polished black shoes getting soaked in the puddles, the water seeping up through the nylon socks. Umbrellas turning inside out with the strong breeze. Uniforms not drying in the rainy days...the sheer joy of wearing casual clothes to school. Splashing water on the puny kid who always had a runny nose. Endless memories pouring down...just like raindrops that poured down in those days. crystal clear droplets mirroring moments lost in the years.
"Yahaan se left...haan bas yahhin rok dijiye" I had reached office.
After paying him 30 Rs (even these electronic meters are rigged!!), I walked along the driveway to the entrance. The huge airconditioned edifice stood before me, intimidating, stifling.....!!!! I looked at the beehive hanging down from the roof....the bees were involved in a dance of their own...carefree creatures of the world. I took one deep breath and swiped my card. The whiff would last me a day...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)