"I know we're not saints or virgins or lunatics; we know all the lust and lavatory jokes, and most of the dirty people; we can catch buses and count our change and cross the roads and talk real sentences. But our innocence goes awfully deep, and our discreditable secret is that we don't know anything at all, and our horrid inner secret is that we don't care that we don't. "
...DYLAN THOMAS
Friday, July 06, 2007
Obituary
Passion died today. In the same incident, hopes and dreams were severely injured. No one came forward, as Passion died a slow painful death.
Passion had lived a long colorful life. Passion found successes and committed errors and . And often Passion created magic.
But today, beaten down by people in the rat race, she died. She will be remembered dearly for bringing that sparkle in the eye, and that spring in the feet.
After passions passing away, hopes and dreams are struggling for their survival. Our good wishes are with them. We hope they will get back on their feet and through their actions keep Passion alive.
Passion will be missed. She is survived by a cold, scared, boring world.
R.I.P.
Passion had lived a long colorful life. Passion found successes and committed errors and . And often Passion created magic.
But today, beaten down by people in the rat race, she died. She will be remembered dearly for bringing that sparkle in the eye, and that spring in the feet.
After passions passing away, hopes and dreams are struggling for their survival. Our good wishes are with them. We hope they will get back on their feet and through their actions keep Passion alive.
Passion will be missed. She is survived by a cold, scared, boring world.
R.I.P.
Stop all the clocks
I heard this in "Four Weddings and a Funeral" last night.
Its fantastic. Very Moving.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
The stars are not wanted now, put out every one;
Its fantastic. Very Moving.
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum,
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week, my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now, put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Inventory of Memories- I
My folks are moving house next weekend. After 23 years. Almost my whole life. I'm going home this weekend to clear out my room...so that a girl all of 10-11 years of age can move in, with her school books and skipping ropes.
I have never thrown stuff away. I am a pack rat. So I still have greeting cards from school. My "Life" and "Battleship" games. The rose and eclair cards from junior college. Gifts from old friends. I have them all tucked away in boxes. In cupboards. In desk drawers.
Packed away. But not forgotten. Its who I am. I don't let go. I move on, I keep the memories tucked away, but never thrown away. Everything I ever had, or received has been in that house. I was a wee little thing when we moved there, so I don't remember any place else.
I remember just some of the stuff that lies in my room. I know there are going to be a lot of surprises when I start clearing up. They say, when you move, you can look at all you're stuff and see your life in them. So I'm going to do just that. And list them here. I am going to take an Inventory of Memories.
The stuff that makes me smile, the gifts that bring a catch in my throat, and ones that make me remember. And I'm going to remember all those people, the incidents, and the stuff that has been a part of growing up in that house. And I'm going to pack away some of the stuff again. And throw away the rest. Some memories are past their shelf life. Its time to take them off the shelves and wipe the dust away.
I have never thrown stuff away. I am a pack rat. So I still have greeting cards from school. My "Life" and "Battleship" games. The rose and eclair cards from junior college. Gifts from old friends. I have them all tucked away in boxes. In cupboards. In desk drawers.
Packed away. But not forgotten. Its who I am. I don't let go. I move on, I keep the memories tucked away, but never thrown away. Everything I ever had, or received has been in that house. I was a wee little thing when we moved there, so I don't remember any place else.
I remember just some of the stuff that lies in my room. I know there are going to be a lot of surprises when I start clearing up. They say, when you move, you can look at all you're stuff and see your life in them. So I'm going to do just that. And list them here. I am going to take an Inventory of Memories.
The stuff that makes me smile, the gifts that bring a catch in my throat, and ones that make me remember. And I'm going to remember all those people, the incidents, and the stuff that has been a part of growing up in that house. And I'm going to pack away some of the stuff again. And throw away the rest. Some memories are past their shelf life. Its time to take them off the shelves and wipe the dust away.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Tagged!
I've been tagged...
I have to state 8 facts about myself and tag another 8 ppl to spill themselves....
So here goes...here are my 8 little factoids...a few chapters of my book of life...
1. I make “humour”- I tell jokes, witty one liners, humourous anecdotes… when I’m in an uncomfortable situation. I also make humour when I’m not in an uncomfortable situation. I generally try to be funny all the time. It’s my way of keeping people at a respectable distance from me. It’s endearing…really.
2. I spend my time in buses by playing antakshari with myself in my mind (Antakshari is a game where every succeeding song you sing, must begin with the letter that the previous song ended with.) And I play this in my mind. With myself. I also imagine myself dancing on them as I sing them sometimes.
3. I spent a large part of my childhood dreaming that every new thing I learnt, I should do it cross country. For e.g. when I started cycling, I wanted to do it across the country. When I started roller skating, I wanted to go skating across the country. When I got my drivers license, Surprise! Surprise! I wanted to drive across the country.
4. I insist on making my mom dance at home. So we’ve spent many a times doing salsa or tango or waltz in our living room. I normally tend to start a dance session when she’s trying to give me advice on something I really don’t want advice on. So she’s talking about how I should live my life and I’m leading her across the room, cheek-to-cheek. The advice sessions don’t last long after this. In the yesteryears of Macarena, I even taught her all the moves. (Ok. I admit. I used to dance on Macarena)
5. In my personal life, I am thorough “look at the silver lining”, “believe people are good nice human beings who don’t lie cheat etc”, “the beer glass isn’t just full, it’s overflowing” kind of person. I always look at the bright side. It also makes me kind of naïve. So I still get shocked and scandalized when people I know lie and cheat. But what the heck, it keeps me happy most of the other time.
6. I’m a very emotional, romantic, loads of thinking and wondering kinda girl who appears to be an emotionless, happy-go lucky kid without a care in the world. This means I leave most people very confused about who I am. Myself included.
7. I cannot carry a tune. I am tone deaf. And I love to sing! I always know all the lyrics. So I sing. Even when my friends have to sing louder to drown out my voice. I even sing softly to myself on the road, in public sometimes. Most people tend to distance themselves from me at this point.
8. I love the rains. I love getting my feet wet in the water on the road. I love wading through dirty rain water. I love the feel of rain on my face. I love the raindrops running down my nose and a single drop of rain hanging on the tip of my nose. I even love it when my hair and clothes get dripping wet. So yeah...I love the rains.
So thats me.
And I tag...
Gautam Begde
Complex Guy in a Simple World
Tia
Jahnavi
M. Saini
Aparna
JuiceBurps
Gary
Write 8 facts about yourself and tag 8 other people in turn.
Speak now...or forever be silent... :-)
I have to state 8 facts about myself and tag another 8 ppl to spill themselves....
So here goes...here are my 8 little factoids...a few chapters of my book of life...
1. I make “humour”- I tell jokes, witty one liners, humourous anecdotes… when I’m in an uncomfortable situation. I also make humour when I’m not in an uncomfortable situation. I generally try to be funny all the time. It’s my way of keeping people at a respectable distance from me. It’s endearing…really.
2. I spend my time in buses by playing antakshari with myself in my mind (Antakshari is a game where every succeeding song you sing, must begin with the letter that the previous song ended with.) And I play this in my mind. With myself. I also imagine myself dancing on them as I sing them sometimes.
3. I spent a large part of my childhood dreaming that every new thing I learnt, I should do it cross country. For e.g. when I started cycling, I wanted to do it across the country. When I started roller skating, I wanted to go skating across the country. When I got my drivers license, Surprise! Surprise! I wanted to drive across the country.
4. I insist on making my mom dance at home. So we’ve spent many a times doing salsa or tango or waltz in our living room. I normally tend to start a dance session when she’s trying to give me advice on something I really don’t want advice on. So she’s talking about how I should live my life and I’m leading her across the room, cheek-to-cheek. The advice sessions don’t last long after this. In the yesteryears of Macarena, I even taught her all the moves. (Ok. I admit. I used to dance on Macarena)
5. In my personal life, I am thorough “look at the silver lining”, “believe people are good nice human beings who don’t lie cheat etc”, “the beer glass isn’t just full, it’s overflowing” kind of person. I always look at the bright side. It also makes me kind of naïve. So I still get shocked and scandalized when people I know lie and cheat. But what the heck, it keeps me happy most of the other time.
6. I’m a very emotional, romantic, loads of thinking and wondering kinda girl who appears to be an emotionless, happy-go lucky kid without a care in the world. This means I leave most people very confused about who I am. Myself included.
7. I cannot carry a tune. I am tone deaf. And I love to sing! I always know all the lyrics. So I sing. Even when my friends have to sing louder to drown out my voice. I even sing softly to myself on the road, in public sometimes. Most people tend to distance themselves from me at this point.
8. I love the rains. I love getting my feet wet in the water on the road. I love wading through dirty rain water. I love the feel of rain on my face. I love the raindrops running down my nose and a single drop of rain hanging on the tip of my nose. I even love it when my hair and clothes get dripping wet. So yeah...I love the rains.
So thats me.
And I tag...
Gautam Begde
Complex Guy in a Simple World
Tia
Jahnavi
M. Saini
Aparna
JuiceBurps
Gary
Write 8 facts about yourself and tag 8 other people in turn.
Speak now...or forever be silent... :-)
Friday, June 22, 2007
Puddles & I
The rain makes puddles outside my gate. The water mixes with the mud making brownish gray liquid. The steady drizzling makes tiny lilliputian ripples in the pool. I fold up my denims halfway up my calf and step at first gingerly into the water, trying to keep parts of my feet dry.
But then my foot lands on a pebble and slips into the water. I feel the cold cold water flow over my toes. I crinkle them. And as I feel my feet enjoying the cold sensation, I give up all pretence of trying to keep them dry and walk straight in. As I walk the edges of my floaters cause water to spurt upwards in thin streams. For a moment it looks like tiny droplets of water are climbing upwards on invisible threads.
I feel the water under my soles. Under the arch of my foot. It slides by between my feet and my floaters. It tickles my skin.
I stop in the middle of the pothole-pond. As I stand there in my folded jeans...slightly wet on the folded edge, tiny drops of rain pecking at my cheek, feet immersed in cold brown water till my ankles, I think back to countless other walks in the water, and I feel a kind of contentment. The innocent happiness of wet feet, wrinkled toes, raindrops on your face and your favourite pair of old jeans...folded up and still very wet.
But then my foot lands on a pebble and slips into the water. I feel the cold cold water flow over my toes. I crinkle them. And as I feel my feet enjoying the cold sensation, I give up all pretence of trying to keep them dry and walk straight in. As I walk the edges of my floaters cause water to spurt upwards in thin streams. For a moment it looks like tiny droplets of water are climbing upwards on invisible threads.
I feel the water under my soles. Under the arch of my foot. It slides by between my feet and my floaters. It tickles my skin.
I stop in the middle of the pothole-pond. As I stand there in my folded jeans...slightly wet on the folded edge, tiny drops of rain pecking at my cheek, feet immersed in cold brown water till my ankles, I think back to countless other walks in the water, and I feel a kind of contentment. The innocent happiness of wet feet, wrinkled toes, raindrops on your face and your favourite pair of old jeans...folded up and still very wet.
If the shoe doesn't fit?
I'm a misfit in a world of misfits
I'm too normal to be a weirdo,
And too weird to be normal
Too full of fun to be serious
And too much thinking to be fun
Too much exploring to be stable
And too sure to be running
Am too old to be a kid
And too wise to be grown up
I'm full of things to say
Too full of emotions to talk
I know lots of people
Don't understand too many
I am too much of me to be you
And not yet so much of me
As to be, Just me
I'm too normal to be a weirdo,
And too weird to be normal
Too full of fun to be serious
And too much thinking to be fun
Too much exploring to be stable
And too sure to be running
Am too old to be a kid
And too wise to be grown up
I'm full of things to say
Too full of emotions to talk
I know lots of people
Don't understand too many
I am too much of me to be you
And not yet so much of me
As to be, Just me
Just around the corner...
She peeped out from behind the wall.
Only one eye looking out
Her one foot resting against the corner.
The rest of her hidden.
She sees people outside.
Of all shapes and sizes
Laughing loudly.
Quiet looks and touches.
The walls vibrate with colours.
Purple and yellow like strobelights
The sounds bounce off the walls.
Mingling, Creating waves
The rhythm flows all around.
And stops at her toe
She stubs her toe.
And walks back inside.
Only one eye looking out
Her one foot resting against the corner.
The rest of her hidden.
She sees people outside.
Of all shapes and sizes
Laughing loudly.
Quiet looks and touches.
The walls vibrate with colours.
Purple and yellow like strobelights
The sounds bounce off the walls.
Mingling, Creating waves
The rhythm flows all around.
And stops at her toe
She stubs her toe.
And walks back inside.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Sunshine in the shadows
Sunshine in the shadows
Lines of dust illuminated
The light floats down
The dust rises up
And through this curtain
Of uncertainty
You appear
You move from sunshine to shadows
And into sunshine again
You wave your hand
Absentmindedly
As if to move the curtain of dusty light aside
You shake your head
To sweep the cobwebs away
You stop suddenly
In the middle of a spotlight
Look up to drink the sunrays;
You hold your hand up
The sunshine and the shadows
Make kaleidoscopic patterns on your hand
You turn your hand slowly
Smile, amused to see patterns
In the darker shades of brown
You try to catch the light in the palm of your hand
It warms your skin and then slips away
You shake your head and smile.
Again. Wondering when you’ll stop
Trying to catch the sunshine in the shadows.
Lines of dust illuminated
The light floats down
The dust rises up
And through this curtain
Of uncertainty
You appear
You move from sunshine to shadows
And into sunshine again
You wave your hand
Absentmindedly
As if to move the curtain of dusty light aside
You shake your head
To sweep the cobwebs away
You stop suddenly
In the middle of a spotlight
Look up to drink the sunrays;
You hold your hand up
The sunshine and the shadows
Make kaleidoscopic patterns on your hand
You turn your hand slowly
Smile, amused to see patterns
In the darker shades of brown
You try to catch the light in the palm of your hand
It warms your skin and then slips away
You shake your head and smile.
Again. Wondering when you’ll stop
Trying to catch the sunshine in the shadows.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
I taking my life back
I taking my life back
I am tidying up my days
I had lost my rhythm
I’m humming the tune again
I’m seeing each minute
Seeing people around me
The blur is clearing up
The lines are becoming sharper
I’m feeling the sun again
Laughing into the breeze
Watching the pinks and purple in the sky
Today is separating from tomorrow
I’m refreshing my soul
Adding shine to my life
Freeing my mind
I’m living again
I am tidying up my days
I had lost my rhythm
I’m humming the tune again
I’m seeing each minute
Seeing people around me
The blur is clearing up
The lines are becoming sharper
I’m feeling the sun again
Laughing into the breeze
Watching the pinks and purple in the sky
Today is separating from tomorrow
I’m refreshing my soul
Adding shine to my life
Freeing my mind
I’m living again
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