31/08/2011. I am packing my stuff again. Where am I off to this time? Well, Delhi (again). So I am cleaning dust off my book rack and I open a little, brown colored note-book. I come across an article I had written more than a year back. On 6th Jan 2010 to be precise. The words made sense to me when I first wrote them. And now, I don't have many options.
So this is how it goes:
Delhi. Hmmm... Vroom goes a car, every second second. I shuffle my handgloves one at a time. One hand, one glove, that is. Curiosity. I always got an A+ in it. I now shuffle my interest, one at a time. One thought, one hour, that is. Eager to do many-a-things, juggle everything, all at once. Just that I want to chill at a convocation evening. I only wish it was today. Now actually. I would throw my hat the highest and plunge into the world of " my " dreams. The highest dreams.
Yet I don't want time to fly by. I love my curls. All other ladies can graciously accept fly-aways. BLAH!
I say give me the night. The light. The flight. The might. The knight. The tide. Now, its easy to pick the odd one out. But didn't you know that tides were almost always odd? So yeah! Give me the tide. I'll even out the odd. Even if I have to live with it and live it forever.
I want to raise a sub-infeudation model you see. Pass on the even tide, tidier in our even courts, to my little ones and their littler ones.
Bright sunlight. Brighter sunflower. Soft moonlight. Softer shoreline. I want. This is it - MJ can Rest In Peace. And I want to Rest In PIECE. Remember I said, one thing at a time? Morning dew. Nightly smog. Warm and cheerful pansies. Elsuive, virgin violets. Give me one, give me all. Well, give me the day and give me the night.
But, most of all give me the " tide ". Even if its odd.
Thanks for keeping up with all the pandemonium. :)
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
...tantalized
And the renegade trailed on the ground on a sweltering May afternoon, leaving behind a little pitcher and reached the well which was a distant sight an orbit ago. What was to be witnessed could have easily been anticipated, had the tramp not disdained the voices in ALL his heads. It was a chasm full of dust, relics and grit. Even the skies were a bittersweet spread. Not a single bead of water... What could be done?
Its not a new story.
This is a story of you and me.
If I call us sailors,
We've all been lured by the sweet humming of the sirens.
Caged and tormented at least once.
We take pink for granted and run after blacks and grays.
Its as though somebody sang a song so chimerical,
blew a whammy, whacks and spells-
and caught us derelict.
To address my fellow greedy and ignorant sophomores, I'd like to use a much simpler dialect.
Life tantalizes us all the time. Life is a trap. Beauty a bait. Need I tell who the rat here be? :-)
We often turn a blind eye to what lies in front of us. Like the renegade did with the pitcher which was in reality, full of elixir and not even water. Showing no love to his dead salivary glands, he drags himself in adverse circumstances to a pit full of misfortune.
The cliched " Life is too short to err " comes into play. It would be so much better if we could put to use the paraphernalia granted to us.
Let us all open our minds,
Let us all learn when to kill a wish,
Let us all LIVE BEFORE WE DIE.
Its not a new story.
This is a story of you and me.
If I call us sailors,
We've all been lured by the sweet humming of the sirens.
Caged and tormented at least once.
We take pink for granted and run after blacks and grays.
Its as though somebody sang a song so chimerical,
blew a whammy, whacks and spells-
and caught us derelict.
To address my fellow greedy and ignorant sophomores, I'd like to use a much simpler dialect.
Life tantalizes us all the time. Life is a trap. Beauty a bait. Need I tell who the rat here be? :-)
We often turn a blind eye to what lies in front of us. Like the renegade did with the pitcher which was in reality, full of elixir and not even water. Showing no love to his dead salivary glands, he drags himself in adverse circumstances to a pit full of misfortune.
The cliched " Life is too short to err " comes into play. It would be so much better if we could put to use the paraphernalia granted to us.
Let us all open our minds,
Let us all learn when to kill a wish,
Let us all LIVE BEFORE WE DIE.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Mockin the norms.
It hurts. I am constantly being reminded of a T-shirt I once used to wear which would read " Change is the only thing constant." Really. At times life changes pretty fast. It would remain stagnant for years sometimes. I was not born with a silver spoon but a silver streak in the brain for sure. Its evident by the umpteen titles and laurels that sit like feathers on my cap. From a ranker in primary school to Miss Reubs flower queen to General secretary to Miss Delhi times 2008 -09 ( only to mention a few ).. I've had my share of multi-farious role playin.
I defy the norms set by people in our Indian Social System who in the veil of traditions, crush them to pieces by rapin their daughters and gettin them raped by other men old enough to be their father's bloody father, by killin innocent girls for just a bundle of papers they could've earned themselves, by burning poor girls for not bringin dowry, by gettin li'l girls married at an age when they should be gettin their barbies married, by tramplin the spirit of a wife who is expected to stand behind a man all her life to support him and ahead of him in dire straits or to bear the bullets of the creditors, by allowin sons to frickin roam about like a king and come back home with a criminal case and killin the dreams of daughters for whom sun is the only star and moon a dream only to be looked at from the house window. This is absurd. No this is actually funny. I could have a good laugh at it all day long.
Where are we headed sweetheart ? I was a daughter when my father would ask me not to do this, do that.. why ? dude, no decent guy would ask for my hand in marriage otherwise. I should protect my dignity ( my father's ) till I met my price charming. Well that was to happen soon. I met him. We're engaged seven months now. NOW - I am not expected to do this, do that because I represent two families. I need to protect my dignity ( their dignity ) till I bear kids. I am guessin I would have to protect this dignity for them as well, since they would want to walk around with their chin up amongst their friends. My kid would say " My mother is a dignified woman, a woman of substance. " Is it a vicious circle that's never goin to end ?
I thought I was different. I have a different approach to life. According to me, there are two kinds of people. 1. Who ape others 2. Who don't care to ape or be aped. To them life has a bigger, wider meaning. I belong to the latter group. I have a spiritual, a rather philosophical approach to life. I don't see people as people.. I see them as souls. Most of us wander about with no purpose. Its interesting to meet these spirits. They make you realize, you're not the only idiot on earth.
I always thought differently. Where girls in my school ducked their faces at the mere sight of boys, I deliberately played cricket with them. Why the hell would you hide away O feminine power ? You're the reason why we have a cricket pitch in the first place. It is you who gave birth to Sachin tendulkar, Virendra Sehwag and the whole cricket team. Even a dark Rajnikant plays fair cuz of you. Barack obama wouldn't smell the air in White house, had you been dead. Why do you fear your own output ? Why do you quiver at the sight of the one you held safe within you for months ? I pity you O power gone powerless. I feel sad.
I defy the norms set by people in our Indian Social System who in the veil of traditions, crush them to pieces by rapin their daughters and gettin them raped by other men old enough to be their father's bloody father, by killin innocent girls for just a bundle of papers they could've earned themselves, by burning poor girls for not bringin dowry, by gettin li'l girls married at an age when they should be gettin their barbies married, by tramplin the spirit of a wife who is expected to stand behind a man all her life to support him and ahead of him in dire straits or to bear the bullets of the creditors, by allowin sons to frickin roam about like a king and come back home with a criminal case and killin the dreams of daughters for whom sun is the only star and moon a dream only to be looked at from the house window. This is absurd. No this is actually funny. I could have a good laugh at it all day long.
Where are we headed sweetheart ? I was a daughter when my father would ask me not to do this, do that.. why ? dude, no decent guy would ask for my hand in marriage otherwise. I should protect my dignity ( my father's ) till I met my price charming. Well that was to happen soon. I met him. We're engaged seven months now. NOW - I am not expected to do this, do that because I represent two families. I need to protect my dignity ( their dignity ) till I bear kids. I am guessin I would have to protect this dignity for them as well, since they would want to walk around with their chin up amongst their friends. My kid would say " My mother is a dignified woman, a woman of substance. " Is it a vicious circle that's never goin to end ?
I thought I was different. I have a different approach to life. According to me, there are two kinds of people. 1. Who ape others 2. Who don't care to ape or be aped. To them life has a bigger, wider meaning. I belong to the latter group. I have a spiritual, a rather philosophical approach to life. I don't see people as people.. I see them as souls. Most of us wander about with no purpose. Its interesting to meet these spirits. They make you realize, you're not the only idiot on earth.
I always thought differently. Where girls in my school ducked their faces at the mere sight of boys, I deliberately played cricket with them. Why the hell would you hide away O feminine power ? You're the reason why we have a cricket pitch in the first place. It is you who gave birth to Sachin tendulkar, Virendra Sehwag and the whole cricket team. Even a dark Rajnikant plays fair cuz of you. Barack obama wouldn't smell the air in White house, had you been dead. Why do you fear your own output ? Why do you quiver at the sight of the one you held safe within you for months ? I pity you O power gone powerless. I feel sad.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Writers..
When I say " writers ", I don't mean to address Jhumpa lahiri, Agatha Christie, Salman Rushdie, You, Your geeky friend or his thoughtful girlfriend's kid brother. What I am talkin 'bout is " ME ".
I am not one. I am multi. I am not single. I am many ( Yet committed ). I am not just me. I am us.
I am not expecting, No-NO ! I am just accepting. I am not a moon. I am stars. I am not a nose. I am eyes ( and I don't mean ears, legs etc. but EYES ). I am not a sea. I am channels. I am not an integer. I am words. I am not a writer. I am " Writers as well as Writer's ".
Being one/s, I think we have the leverage of inflictin upon poor-lesser mortals, unbearable agony. We'd think random nuisance at 3: 40 AM, Turn on our mad-man ( Computer ) and start typin. We type cuz we have this thought that we've evolved from the huntin-gatherin phase and we are soon gonna be there again. So while we have the mad man available at our beck and call, We'd torture him till our return to Stone age ( I know, while readin all this you look at me as some great writer of Proto history but its khay by me ).
I have always met my writer past midnight. No matter how much I howl, scream and call for it in the daytime, It won't appear. And when I try to sleep it pulls my quilt and drags me to the mad man ( Pimp-my-WRITEr ). At times they are many. They put forth different thoughts and I am the one who's suppose to be jottin them down. The next day when I read my post, I can barely make sense of what I've written, but its only past midnight when the connotation of each symbol floats in the air and tickles my brain.
I feel lucky at times that I've been blessed with this idiosyncracy. Atleast I can write whatever and calm down. Cuz when distress befalls, We all become nothin but clowns in the hands of no strings, no matter how sophisticated we think we are. We all are silent sufferers. We'll die but confide. We'll break down but open up. We'd be all poised but let loose. We'll not smile but let a few tears out. And then I ask them silently why ? Why resident evils, why won't you ? But its become a long chain of no answers now. And my environment ma'am teaches me not to disturb a food chain. Why'd I disturb their food chain when it doesn't hurt them while they eat what they eat ?
* Yawns * I am so done with this. See, I wrote and de-stressed. I din't smoke a couple o smokes and neither did I swig down a few shots. But then m not even campaignin for " AA " ( hahaha ).
I am not one. I am multi. I am not single. I am many ( Yet committed ). I am not just me. I am us.
I am not expecting, No-NO ! I am just accepting. I am not a moon. I am stars. I am not a nose. I am eyes ( and I don't mean ears, legs etc. but EYES ). I am not a sea. I am channels. I am not an integer. I am words. I am not a writer. I am " Writers as well as Writer's ".
Being one/s, I think we have the leverage of inflictin upon poor-lesser mortals, unbearable agony. We'd think random nuisance at 3: 40 AM, Turn on our mad-man ( Computer ) and start typin. We type cuz we have this thought that we've evolved from the huntin-gatherin phase and we are soon gonna be there again. So while we have the mad man available at our beck and call, We'd torture him till our return to Stone age ( I know, while readin all this you look at me as some great writer of Proto history but its khay by me ).
I have always met my writer past midnight. No matter how much I howl, scream and call for it in the daytime, It won't appear. And when I try to sleep it pulls my quilt and drags me to the mad man ( Pimp-my-WRITEr ). At times they are many. They put forth different thoughts and I am the one who's suppose to be jottin them down. The next day when I read my post, I can barely make sense of what I've written, but its only past midnight when the connotation of each symbol floats in the air and tickles my brain.
I feel lucky at times that I've been blessed with this idiosyncracy. Atleast I can write whatever and calm down. Cuz when distress befalls, We all become nothin but clowns in the hands of no strings, no matter how sophisticated we think we are. We all are silent sufferers. We'll die but confide. We'll break down but open up. We'd be all poised but let loose. We'll not smile but let a few tears out. And then I ask them silently why ? Why resident evils, why won't you ? But its become a long chain of no answers now. And my environment ma'am teaches me not to disturb a food chain. Why'd I disturb their food chain when it doesn't hurt them while they eat what they eat ?
* Yawns * I am so done with this. See, I wrote and de-stressed. I din't smoke a couple o smokes and neither did I swig down a few shots. But then m not even campaignin for " AA " ( hahaha ).
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Holll-a !
Much has changed ever since I last filled in here.. At times you feel so low and look around for that stress buster when you completely rule out writing knowin its the only way to sanity and sanctity.
I do the same.. rather I'd been doin the same for past couple of months. I am back though and I am back for good. I'll try and keep it regular now.
January was when I last posted something here. Its end of November and my soul has woken up again. It was cold the last time I felt the keyboard tapping underneath my reckless finger-touch, I sense that its cold even today, or perhaps colder. I've caught cold too. I sneeze with all my might. I sleep with my mouth open and trust me its gross !! I wake up in the middle of nights, restless, only to drink some water and check the alarm clock. My cold has invited cough too. They both play with my nose and throat and irk me to death. Well, We shall leave it there.
Okay, to begin with Feb, Its the month of LOVE as well as my birthday ! So I celebrated both..!
March : I was sloggin to get the marks required ! Though I end up doin a course I never dreamt of gettin stuck onto !
April : I was hangin out with love and lovers every-possible-where !
May : I went back to my folks and put on weight ! They satiate my appetite.
June : I enrolled in a gym only to avoid the trainer after 3 days of regularity. That's a different story when he caught me with a large can of Irish coffee with whipped cream and Vanilla scoop floatin on its face, in my hands. No doubt he was happy to see me that way ! ( Pun intented ).
July : I was runnin all around Delhi, unknowingly explorin places which I otherwise never would have known, with an interest of collectin all the information bout colleges as well as fillin up all them forms.
August : I asked my folks for extra money since I wanted new clothes for college. My dorky friends ate up all the paper and I till date wear the same old clothes ! Friends can be a big-time curse I tell you !
September : " Aunt Jennifer's Tigers " was about to evacuate my mind when I fell in ***** ! We both are happy. Unhappy with situations, yet happily together.
October : I celebrate Diwali with my so called extended family. Quite a different feelin it is. I paint the floors with nursery designs. Take up the post of a Brahmin girl while monitorin the pooja which I never realized I was, due to my devotion and dedication towards non-vegetarian food. I take strolls in the calm house.. Wanderin from one room to another lookin for HIM when he's gone. I can be quite poetic and filmy on the name of reality ! I sob lookin at the only pet which I am not very fond of. But I think its HIM and his memories that connect !
November : I go through mental turbulence, over-analytical frame of mind and whims ! I miss him so much that I start studyin history !!!!! I even sit with mateys I thought were kiddish. The whole month tests my composure and patience and then on Nov. 23 I finally explode ! I repent, I calm down ! I am back and I am back for good.
Of late, all us friends have been bunkin the class tests with regular repetition ! Mam's got so furious that she even challenges us now, if we have the guts to disappear this time ! Well, I am ahsamed to declare THIS TIME the test is TOMORROW when I am more interested in typin random poop here. Have called up couple of losers from my batch who are bunkin it yet again. But I am appearin for it. I am also gonna tell ma'am that I was up until late last night since I was studyin ! :-)
I do the same.. rather I'd been doin the same for past couple of months. I am back though and I am back for good. I'll try and keep it regular now.
January was when I last posted something here. Its end of November and my soul has woken up again. It was cold the last time I felt the keyboard tapping underneath my reckless finger-touch, I sense that its cold even today, or perhaps colder. I've caught cold too. I sneeze with all my might. I sleep with my mouth open and trust me its gross !! I wake up in the middle of nights, restless, only to drink some water and check the alarm clock. My cold has invited cough too. They both play with my nose and throat and irk me to death. Well, We shall leave it there.
Okay, to begin with Feb, Its the month of LOVE as well as my birthday ! So I celebrated both..!
March : I was sloggin to get the marks required ! Though I end up doin a course I never dreamt of gettin stuck onto !
April : I was hangin out with love and lovers every-possible-where !
May : I went back to my folks and put on weight ! They satiate my appetite.
June : I enrolled in a gym only to avoid the trainer after 3 days of regularity. That's a different story when he caught me with a large can of Irish coffee with whipped cream and Vanilla scoop floatin on its face, in my hands. No doubt he was happy to see me that way ! ( Pun intented ).
July : I was runnin all around Delhi, unknowingly explorin places which I otherwise never would have known, with an interest of collectin all the information bout colleges as well as fillin up all them forms.
August : I asked my folks for extra money since I wanted new clothes for college. My dorky friends ate up all the paper and I till date wear the same old clothes ! Friends can be a big-time curse I tell you !
September : " Aunt Jennifer's Tigers " was about to evacuate my mind when I fell in ***** ! We both are happy. Unhappy with situations, yet happily together.
October : I celebrate Diwali with my so called extended family. Quite a different feelin it is. I paint the floors with nursery designs. Take up the post of a Brahmin girl while monitorin the pooja which I never realized I was, due to my devotion and dedication towards non-vegetarian food. I take strolls in the calm house.. Wanderin from one room to another lookin for HIM when he's gone. I can be quite poetic and filmy on the name of reality ! I sob lookin at the only pet which I am not very fond of. But I think its HIM and his memories that connect !
November : I go through mental turbulence, over-analytical frame of mind and whims ! I miss him so much that I start studyin history !!!!! I even sit with mateys I thought were kiddish. The whole month tests my composure and patience and then on Nov. 23 I finally explode ! I repent, I calm down ! I am back and I am back for good.
Of late, all us friends have been bunkin the class tests with regular repetition ! Mam's got so furious that she even challenges us now, if we have the guts to disappear this time ! Well, I am ahsamed to declare THIS TIME the test is TOMORROW when I am more interested in typin random poop here. Have called up couple of losers from my batch who are bunkin it yet again. But I am appearin for it. I am also gonna tell ma'am that I was up until late last night since I was studyin ! :-)
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
THE SON OF THE ARMADA
Like a cat steals on one lazy winter morning,
She drops few tears in the same brewery.
The lion prowls out of the bubble;
The son of the armada, Standing in a queue in the quay.
Her ashen face narrates myriad folklores;
Of a vagrant cub, Placid on the fiercer shores.
Uxorious never the brave ones are
But his pounding heart lays ajar;
The beauty of today's withering rose
Preserved in his mind, Secured in repose
A little drop cascades his querelous leer
And freezes off with just one fear :
SHOULD THE ROSE DIE WITH DISBELIEF BEFORE I GO LOVE IT AGAIN ?!?!?
She drops few tears in the same brewery.
The lion prowls out of the bubble;
The son of the armada, Standing in a queue in the quay.
Her ashen face narrates myriad folklores;
Of a vagrant cub, Placid on the fiercer shores.
Uxorious never the brave ones are
But his pounding heart lays ajar;
The beauty of today's withering rose
Preserved in his mind, Secured in repose
A little drop cascades his querelous leer
And freezes off with just one fear :
SHOULD THE ROSE DIE WITH DISBELIEF BEFORE I GO LOVE IT AGAIN ?!?!?
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
MYSTICAL NIGHTS
Mystical the nights r
Whilst I exploreth the words o wisdom in the whispers o this breeze..
Whilst I decode the mystery of the black-ness above me
The stars look at me, As if I was eavesdroppin their love-makin
The moon smiles at me, Whilst I ask " Whats this black doin to me tonight ?
It always does that to me.
Moon said ' listen to the silence me child, Its beautiful, Can u ever see ?
Then y question black, When it does so much good to thee ?
Only if u cud accept the black in the SELF
cud u actually turn colourful outside
We cremate a matter full of " why's "Had it recognized the black-real-self while alive
The fumes wudn hurt much when the soul departs and goes :
" I was black, Y wud u strangle me in one life u cudn live ? Y cudn u jes accept me for what I was and thence cud u love me, Love all.. Now when u actually wanna live the life, Y dyu forget the BLACK in the world " unknown " had told u twas for ONCE.. JUST ONCE ! "
Whilst I exploreth the words o wisdom in the whispers o this breeze..
Whilst I decode the mystery of the black-ness above me
The stars look at me, As if I was eavesdroppin their love-makin
The moon smiles at me, Whilst I ask " Whats this black doin to me tonight ?
It always does that to me.
Moon said ' listen to the silence me child, Its beautiful, Can u ever see ?
Then y question black, When it does so much good to thee ?
Only if u cud accept the black in the SELF
cud u actually turn colourful outside
We cremate a matter full of " why's "Had it recognized the black-real-self while alive
The fumes wudn hurt much when the soul departs and goes :
" I was black, Y wud u strangle me in one life u cudn live ? Y cudn u jes accept me for what I was and thence cud u love me, Love all.. Now when u actually wanna live the life, Y dyu forget the BLACK in the world " unknown " had told u twas for ONCE.. JUST ONCE ! "
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