cheeky green shellfish!

2010-05-06T05:55:00.000-07:00

And I have never been this young or stupid before!

Don't think so much

2009-07-31T11:01:00.000-07:00

The smell of raw animal fat has always made her gag. She wonders why she hasn't turned vegetarian years ago. He plays with the foil from the cigarettes, folding, unfolding, ripping and twisting the little pieces. If the carton could talk, it would have plenty to say.

"So." She looks away.
"So." He looks at her.
"What now?"
"I don't know."
"Hm."

He lights a match. Staring away from her, he searches for the faces of the passing travelers in their belching machines, as they maneuver a route through the potholed highway. The match burns out.

"When's your train?"

He lights another match and with it, a cigarette. He inhales deeply, the cigarette between his lips. She can't help noticing how his lips crease differently in the moments before they kiss from those when he smokes.

"Friday."
"Should I come to see you off?"
"Um...no need, really."
"You're sure?"
"Ya."

She is very tempted to ask him if he will miss her.

"I'll be back in a minute." She stands up.

In the minuscule loo in the back, she stares at her face in the grimy mirror, recognizing the very moment from the many films they had watched together. She smiles as she realizes that now would be a highly appropriate time to burst into tears, sing a sad song and sink to the floor theatrically, clutching her handbag to her chest.
To do so would be below her.

Meanwhile, he has finished his watery tea and has begun to dig for change in his many pockets as the waitress hovers hopefully in the background.
He wonders if he should knock on the loo-door.
He wonders if she has left through the kitchens.

She has, in fact, left.

She drags her slippers across the highway to the waiting bus. The rattling red monster does a U-Turn and she sees him through the two layers of glass, still sitting at their table, striking a match to light the cigarette pinned behind his left ear. For a brief moment, he sees her too, but looks away in the direction of the loo as if to brush the image out of his head as some sort of passing illusion.

"Them"

2008-11-01T00:14:00.000-07:00

You are likely to find this type anywhere you go in the world, albeit in different avatars. They could be your classmates, your workplace colleagues, your rich cousins, your boyfriend/ girlfriends friends but they are one hundred percent likely to exist in your life no matter who you are or wherever in the world you are. "They" are the people who like to think they have the final word on whats "hot" or "cool" or whatever temperature is in fashion to be labelled desirable. There are whole generations of them on social networking sites, plenty of them in your classroom, at the local pub, cafe or concert. This breed does not have an official denomination or post. They are entirely self- appointed, given a little bit of good looks, luck or talent, or worse, combinations of all three. There is even a breed that has neither of these three but still likes to believe it calls the shots. What i find murderously funny is that there are a whole lot of people who look upto creatures such as these and take their cues from this lot. Independent thought seems impossible from the worshipping breed, what with them being lobotomised by hours spent watching Vh1, surfing orkut communities, reading Cosmopolitan and watching stupid American sitcoms to see what everyone else thinks so they know what not to say.
An even more intriguing breed of creatures is the one that does everything the "cool" breed does not do, just so it can be, you know, "anti- trend", or "the real deal" and denounce everyone else as "posers". Oooh, hiphop is "in" so lets all be metalheads. This band is commercial, so lets only worship obscure trashy stuff that no one's really heard of and therefore not really in a position to criticize. Ooh, thats so "gay". Ooh, "fucking poseurs" said with a grimace and Black t- shirt with little known Scandinavian band on it. Or alternatively, Ooh, Cosmo says- did you know nicole richie did- that is sooo, like- ow my gaaad.
A few questions: Since when and why has Cosmopolitan magazine started dictating the way you wipe your bum? Pencil- fits or bell- bottoms, who the fuck cares, really? Would you consider it remotely possible to take that straightening iron out of your behind? And you, you there with that oh-so-cliched-obvious "Im trying so hard to NOT be like everyone else that i'm having trouble holding my stomach in" look on your face and your "Dark" "personality", take that black nailpolish off before someone mistakes you for a malnourished delinquent. Why is every musician that makes pots of money labelled "commercial" like its some infectious disease? OH, I'm sorry, musicians live on love and fresh air right- nevermind that it costs the earth to own decent musical equipment or afford to stay out of mainstream work to make a proper career doing what you love best? And "Poseur"- well seriously, with words like insanity, truth, blood, fear, hatred, lust, "blackness", "darkness" being a constant refrain with you, and you being a quite ordinary teenager with a few mild issues with your folks not "understanding" your need for a blood-and-gore poster in your room - i mean, you'er not exactly a long- suffering-Palestinian are you?! Or Alternatively, if you think the Pussy Cat Dolls are supreme in terms of song- writing abilities, you seriously need to switch that television off and look through your Dad's old records and see if anything there catches your fancy, because sweetheart, believe me "me, he" "you, do" "kill, still" "mine, fine" is not the be- all and end- all of lyrical beauty.

to be contd.

what Roadie?

2008-10-30T12:06:00.000-07:00

Ok that does it. When it started out, Roadies, wasn't half bad. People did do some actual biking on it. Never mind that a lot of time was spent doing random stupid dangerous things and bitching about team members. It absolutely gets my goat that they still call the bloody thing "Roadies", like it has anything whatsoever to do with tarmac except for the fact that you might want your skull to make contact with it if you sat through later episodes. Please, PLEASE, its time for a name change.

10 things i am NEVER going to do ever again.

2008-09-25T07:14:00.000-07:00

1) Drink neat vodka.
2) Attempt to make intelligent conversation with anyone who uses the word "killer" and "poseur" in the same sentence.
3) Walk into a room without knocking. Ever.
4) Use my teeth for a bottle opener
5) Offer to take out my exes current girlfriend shopping when she comes to bangalore.
6) Fall for gorgeous gay men.
7) Fall for other people's boyfriends.
8) Mix needlework/cooking/nailfiling/complicated surgical procedures with death metal.
9) Eat lunch at Siddiques
10) Forget my boyfriends birthday.

metaphors of the soul- written 4-10-'07

2008-04-30T05:00:00.000-07:00

Pop! The Bubble burst
Killed- the cocoon
Boiled- the silk worm
Dead- the bamboo flowers
Morbid- am I?
Moving pictures flash a million corpses casually
Blood and victory- Madre Dios! Where are the trees?

small fuzzy balls of terror that go "Meow!"

2008-04-19T07:09:00.000-07:00

Mean kitty and Momo cat- the latest additions to my family and their fascinating habits:

We 've toilet trained them with a tub of newspaper- they've learned pretty fast except now they insist on peeing and pooping in anything that vaguely looks or smells like newspaper (this includes Papa'a official documents that he leaves around the house and my psychology notes that have been hurriedly compiled a week before my semester exams)

Mean Kitty has taken to Papa (inspite of Mum being official Mamma Cat) and loves to pottyfy all over (only) his clothes/bedsheets/blankets/shoes. It doesn't help that she does so only when he's around to see it happen- like peeing on his blanket when he was still inside it fast asleep, early in the morning.

The first night the cats slept in my room- something creeped me out and i woke up- Momo was siting on my pillow and staring at me. There was light coming into the room from the streetlights outside and i swear i could see he was staring with his eyes wide open- spooky! and believe me when i say i am not one to be easily spooked! my theory is that he's probably someone i used to know in his last life!

to be cont'd...

a green vans shadow

2008-02-28T05:49:00.000-08:00

bumpy roads- afternoon heat
a quiet park- lovers meet-
a church, it stands
new, unmanned
i ride on past- plastic slideshow
girl- meets boy- dark skin no no-
i smirk- what crap
sweet sticky trap-
my skin- the sun fries
beggar child bawling cries-
a pang- low and guilty-
was i born wealthy?
A green van- my face tans
shadow i find-
to the left- behind
wrong side of the road- gutter moat
us from them- safely keeps
they that cry- us that sleep-
dusty van- paper cargo
rattletrap can- how it goes.
i find its shadow
unsafe but cool- a fool i am
no brakes- small feet
big bike- shitty heat.
nevermind- on its way, the van went-
and i.

Foil

2008-01-31T06:31:00.000-08:00

Blooming almond tree:
Stalk her street silently,
Mock her furrowed brow.
Youth and beauty claustrophobic.
An old woman in the face of a child-
A young woman in an old body,
"Babyface".
Always too young,
Sometimes too old.
Age cheats a body cold.
Child- bride, young widow, old mother-
Ten years too late,
Twenty years too early.
Time flies by like a bee in a hurry.
Worry lines jostle with smiles for space.
A face:
Convalescent, omniscient:
A facade:
Crusty shell on soft skin.
A bitter aftertaste-
In a mouth long sweetened
WIth saccharine fairytale.

How Do You Measure A Year?

2007-12-24T22:33:00.000-08:00

The year that was- good friends we had and good friends we lost. lessons learnt, bridges burnt. truths we gathered and journeys we made, away from home and closer to those that had drifted away. love we knew and pain we learnt, we wished againt wish and hoped against hope and fell and bruised our knees. but we picked ourselves up and moved on, drifting but nonetheless locomotive! how could we measure this year with love when there was so much of it in our lives? 525,500 minutes, all precious, painful and happy and ridiculously funny! 2007- the year we grew up! heres to- my family and friends, the love of my life, my mentors!

Malice.

2007-11-04T09:16:00.001-08:00

Purple orchid
Open his eyes
Blinkered by pride
She will survive
But he dies, and he dies
Taking with him to his grave
Secrets of a coward
Be brave, be brave
She sings as he cringes
Sing Purple Orchid
Purple Orchid, make him cry
Make him cry, make him cry
Vindictive, she smiles.

The Facade

2007-10-11T21:07:00.000-07:00

Curly wisps of nicotine float sleepily around empty mugs of tea
A heated political argument
The Dreamer babbles, the Realist fights
Illusionary democracy, freedom of belief-
Big words mock those that remain unspoken
The dreamer- he quotes and hopes
The realist- she mocks and mopes
Lament after lament, vanity stills their words
Honesty bears too heavy a price
Why confess when a rival stands to gain all that they will lose
The rival is not innocent- the rival is omniscient
Tolkiens all-seeing Eye couldnt give her a run for her money
She knows what runs deep below the debating facade
The realist knows all hope is lost
The dreamer insists on living in denial
At dead ends they stand, obstinate, refusing negotiation
Somethings got to give though
Someday it might.

facing it

2007-10-08T09:22:00.000-07:00

change- all that is constant
green shadows
fighting it still
abhorrent.....
take it away, nomad lyricist
through the shifting sands of the once lush earth
fight them shadows behind you
stand with your face to the sun
come out from under the shadows of Eliots red rock
the losing side have not won. not yet.
someday maybe.
it will be. gone
from this remote corner of the village sanctorum. gone.

lovesong of the shellfish

2007-10-05T11:31:00.000-07:00

funny creature- you
Of the earthen skin and beautiful mind,
wasted in the salt
we counted the lights of the fishing boats
on a moonless starless evening
not so long ago
when the south west winds came calling in their sunday best
I'd go
But my shoelaces are tied to yours
like Dunne's compass points
round and round in circles we go
in futile continuum
could it be that
maybe
when we spoke of The Dead One
he found his way to us
through us
through you
We joke too much,
weddings and XXL white dresses
Love in the time of cholera- no, typhoid and an addiction
Your mother was never wrong
is she now, though?
but what if the cards and the lines on our palms
were never wrong either?
your many cliched limericks
they emerge, today, as i write and cannot rhyme,
in perfect synchronised time
spools of film run through my head
an afternoon spent pretending towatch gangsters shoot each other silly
an evening spent playing Pierre and Marianne Renoir
an hour spent singing, an hour spent lamenting
an hour spent matching names and faces
people and places, the mosquito chases
zapping singeing
two twisted souls killing defenceless blood- suckers
is it any wonder the world called us mad?
cocooned, you are
i strain at the leash
your fate was written on my forehead
do i dare fight the Verse?
but wait- you fear those shadows no more
so we wait. and watch
sipping sickly sweet tea and bitching nastily
mine own, mine own
if you died, i'd.

finally

2007-10-05T08:44:00.000-07:00

songs at the funeral
* bullet for my valentine- tears dont fall
* apocalypta- inquisition symphony
* nitin sawhney- breathing light
* bittersweet symphony- the verve
* pearl jam- last kiss, immortality, black, evolution
* bob marley- i know a place, turn your lights down low, redemption song
* maiden- como estais amigos, rainmaker, aces high,
* cradle of filth- nymphetamine
* rhcp- porcelain, dont forget me
* junkyard groove- say goodbye
* creed- lullaby
* arch enemy- dead eyes see no future
* dave matthews band- crash into me, satellite
* celine dion- im alive
* nine inch nails- just like you imagined
* staind- epiphany
* jon secada- just another day
* lucky ali- tu kaun hain
* kryptos- descension
* aerosmith- jaded
* u2- grace, stay far away so close
* angel of death: with the bass on full ra athreya!
* wheatus- teenage dirtbag
* switchfoot- dare you to move
* LoG- Omerta (?), laid to rest
* 'tallica- fuel, memory remains, the unforgiven
* marvin gaye- lets get it on, aint no mountain high enough
* the doors- the ghost song
* hendrix- wild thing
* steppenwolf- born to be wild
* dido- dont leave home, nobody knows
* norah jones- come away with me, humble me
* evanescence- lithium
* the entire putumayo world music series
* santana- black magic woman, put your lights on, oye como va,
* dream theatre- hells kitchen
* snow patrol- signal fire, chasing cars
* travis- love will come through
* coldplay- shiver
* sabbath- paranoid
* prasanna- kalyani connection
* esperanto- that subhramanyam whateveritis song
* the raghu dixit project- hey bhagwaan
* mademoiselle k- ca ma vexe
* alanis morisette- ironic, thank you
* wyclef jean, million voices- hotel rwanda
* enya- now we are free (gladiator theme)
* piya basanti re- ustad sultan khan etc
* mudvayne- happy
* sepultura- refuse resist, inquisition symphony
* godsmack- vampires
*
(to be continued)

Lines for a starfish

2007-10-02T06:32:00.000-07:00

Five fingered fist, crawling uncomfortably like so
Where goes
No joints that connect, no sinew that holds
The sand is dry, isn't it?
And itchy.
But the sea has receded
Preceded the death wave
That must wash over the island soon.
Fear must be felt, not talked of,
Damn the diplomacy
Will the apathy go?
Maybe not, definitely so
Slow, go, no, woe
and alas, the water must redeem the banks.

Tribute to someone who didnt quit.

2007-09-30T12:49:00.000-07:00

heres to someone who showed me that even if such a thing happens that you want to go home, cry and never attempt something you love doing ever again, you must not quit. thank you for being an inspiration. every time i think of chucking it all up, i remember you re example and i know that i must work harder, i must not quit. thank you for that lesson. and heres to your path taking you everywhere that you want to go!

favourites

2007-09-28T10:55:00.000-07:00

*bitter cold bangalore weather- now long gone
*the sight of the bangalore trees in bloom
*the smell of chillies ginger and garlic frying in hot oil
*the friendly paanwalla near nanjappa circle
*the old man standing at his gate on berlie street who waves to me every morning as i ride past
*myndsnare doing their soundcheck
*my new green shoes- now filthy of course
*malleshwaram market, russell market, gandhi bazaar market
*the feel of gold, kanjeevaram silk and mallige poo
*lara doggy s antics at pallavi s door
*the smell of beer and blues
* the roar of a thumper when you shift gears
* making a mess with paint and water
* writing morbid, disconnected sentences
* wandering around historical ruins pretending to be King Krishnadevaraya s concubine
* the way my grandmamma smells of kumkuma and ghee
* my granddads habit of crying when hes happy
* dressing up like billo chamanbahar and doing nautanki numbers at home
* baby squirells
* kittens, pups, calves, cubs, chicks, foals, lambs, kids, tadpoles, all baby animals
* that feeling when you wake up early and realise its a sunday
* people who make me think, my mentors
* writing with proper ink pens in new notebooks
* watching my friends fall in love with each other
* the feeling when you get your first basic beat right
* my black boots that i have worn all of thrice since i bought them
* watching bridget jones/ love actually with a bunch of giggly galfriends
* the sight of the national flag atop the vidhana soudha in the morning
* creeping people out by muttering kiri kiri kiri kiriiiiiii softly to myself
* bullying deepo into riding pillion while i try and remember which side the gears are on his bike
* nami s giggling fits
* pretending to be shakira and attempting complicated bellydancing manouevres
* playing celine dion and slayer one after the other, much to the horror of deepos "metalness"
* singing loudly on the bike at traffic signals
* pallavi playing bharatiya naari in a sari, whoa.
* watching the sky from my terrace
* staying up all night wondering where our lives are going to take us
* discussing The Man Himself with anyone willing to listen :)
* the smell of coffee, cigarettes and heated political arguments
* munnaswamy chai, shivering
* believing in fairytales every once in a while when reality gets too sharp
* my favourite lines from the Waste Land

"There is shadow under this red rock,

(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),

And I will show you something different from either

Your shadow at morning striding behind you

Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;

I will show you fear in a handful of dust."

Saturate

2007-09-24T05:23:00.000-07:00

Fight him fair now, Fortune said
A little red
Smoking but dead
Sitting pretty
Ocassionally witty
Waste him not now, the sharks are fed
Righteous , righteous, righteous all
Take no heed,
No, they said.
Biting, scratching, fighting wed
The auspicious hour
A little sour
His cold blood streaked her white dress red
Sighs they drew, gasps and breath
Flesh maketh but lead breaketh
Fight him free now Fortune screamed.
A litle it seemed
Torture, streamed.
Itching arrows
Gangrene sorrow
Broken, beaten, slave she dreamed.

Chained to the floor

2007-09-24T05:19:00.000-07:00

Suicide was not an option
Solitude would stifle him
Sensitivity was unfeeling
Stupidity stilled the fool
Where be me when the leaves have fallen
When winter stripped him of his pride
Where be me when the leaves have fallen
His naked face- behind he hides.

Preamble to our constitution- journalism class exercise

2007-09-24T05:13:00.000-07:00

Oppression we have fled
Pollution. And War.
Us women of the Green Earth
In our newfound home
Venus of the twin galaxy
A million light years voyaged
Through times silken fabric
And we say to the universe
We have rejected the Old Way
A New Order we shall found:
Respect: it shall have new meaning
Respect for each other, for our planet.
Peace shall break her shackles and be released
A sisterhood we shall be
The menfolk are welcome
But we warn you:
Be nice or leave!
Bake our own bread we shall
And grow our own flowers.

blackwater boy

2007-09-21T07:15:00.000-07:00

Wait, capricious moon!
He has not walked yet
Long have you promised to light this street
But the twigs and the leaves-they lie dead, undisturbed-
their crackling a sound longed for but unheard.
Children lie sleeping in warm homes, breathing:
Their soft breath clouding the night sky with lies
Lies that their fathers believed and mothers lived with
Innocence is illusion- he cried when she died. He cried-
But wait. He has not walked yet-
my child of the Ritual
Round and round we went of the water
As it lay choking with filth and dead fish
who lay open- mouthed, gaping, astonished
that we who fed them could stoop to this

(more to go)

im grateful

2007-09-15T00:25:00.000-07:00

heres to the two stupid crazy virgo women in my shabby but glorious excuse for an existence- my mother and my best friend! may their tribe increase!
they drive me insane, the both of them. i shall now attempt to draw lines through both their characters and persuade myself that inspite of the constant onslaught of "eyy porki" s and "kundifemale"s and accusations of unclean socks and He-Man dude swaggering, that i do actually love them as much as they love me!

1) They both love calling me names- my carmel-convent induced sense of decency will not permit me to reveal the aforementioned names here. they are, however, i assure you, sufficiently horrifyind and mortifying, especially when thrown at you across the Airlines parking lot.

2) They both insist on getting me pink and frilly things to wear inspite of the fact that i have publicly proclaimed to dress as shabbily as civic sense and the college dress code will permit me

3) They both love their food and refuse to share stuff with me, one unfairly attributing it to the fact that i dont brush my teeth everyday (huh! as if!) and the other simply because she likes to mark her territory and guard it fiercely!

to be contd....

rebirth

2007-09-07T21:26:00.000-07:00

A young leaf uncurls itself, its pale green translucency aglow with warm feeler-like rays from the rising sun. For all that we leave behind, all the leaves that have fallen off our trees through the winter months, we must know that one morning will reveal new life, rebirth , a new beginning with the advent of spring. Knowing this is what keeps the earth alive. Knowing this is how we live our lives, tranquil, complacent in the knowledge that the sun will rise again tomorrow and all shall be as it was before we ruined it. Or will it?

and on that note

2007-09-06T11:01:00.000-07:00

I can't help that i'm happy. I don't know why but a lot of people i know think i put it on. I don't. I genuinely believe that happiness is simply a question of looking at your life and picking out ten things that can make you wake up in the morning and say "Wow!" ; sure, i write morbid poetry that i refuse to put up here (Jaggu im not budging on this one :) ), i think humans are shitty and that we're killing our planet and blah blah blah but you know what- you have to have hope to live. And i hope. And thats why im happy. If you look carefully, every new day brings with it a thousand little surprises- moments that will make you go Awwww, sights that will make you want to sing, sounds that will elevate you. That is what is incredible about our existence. Through all the death and the bad news and the disillusionment, there is incredible beauty all around our cocoons. Its finding it that is the trick. And thats what sustains my life and the stupid grin i have on my face most of the time.

and so they said

2007-09-06T10:37:00.000-07:00

"What did she say?"
(Silence)
"What did she say?"
"No."
"What?"
"No. She said no."
"You serious?"
(Silence)
"Jesus."
"I- It's-"
"How could she?"
"I don't know."
"But it seemed fine..."
"It seemed."
"Ya but- Come on, all these years man!"
"It didn't count. She didn't even-"
"But why?"
"She did not think it necessary for me to know."
"She owes it to you."
"She owes me nothing."
"That's your problem, man, you can never stick up for yourself!"
"Don't you dare say that to me, not after knowing fully well why!"
"I'll say what I like. Its my duty to hit you over the head with an occasional reality check."
"Don't get started please. It's just started to sink in."
"Good God. I knew this was going to happen someday."
"I wish I atleast knew why."
"I'm going to ask her right now."
"Don't. She'll hate you for sticking your nose into it."
"I don't care what she thinks about me."
"But I do."

The Fallout

2007-09-02T01:27:00.000-07:00

On a blistered sunday morning
She sat.
The ruins of the day, the remains of the morning
Fallen to pieces, smouldering, sooty-
They were quiet now
The war forgotten
Her face in her hands,she cried.
Dying fires hissed and spat
Their contempt fighting their conviction to destroy.
Not a hundred days ago a giddy truce called
Had bound the two together- the birth and the afterlife.
Today she sat, a crumpled map
Of where the world ought not to have been.
Kindness is overrated.

why man why

2007-08-31T11:58:00.000-07:00

ok you know who you are. if you read this, please rush to your nearest foodworld outlet, buy yourself some common sense and drill it into that stupid large head of yours. seriously. how could anyone be as stupid? you know very well. i know that you know. hell, i dont know who doesnt know that you know! so cut to the chase and, for your own sweet sake, get the hell on with it! that you're wierd is fine, hell i like wierd, but this- sadistic creature! im sure you re pea sized brain has enough reasoning ability to know that 2 plus two make bloody four and not three.

stinketh does as stinketh is

2007-08-31T10:29:00.000-07:00

"Wahahahahahaa"
"Shut up"
"You did what?!"
"Yes. I-"
"Oh my god!"
"Seriously?"
"No then."
"Shit!!!"
"What are you going to tell her?"
"The truth."
"The truth according to whom?"
"Doesn't matter, man. Tell her anyway."
"She'll kill me."
"It's ok. Atleast you'll die happy!"
"Shut up."

oh bring back my

2007-08-30T10:26:00.000-07:00

"Why is that after every stupid thing you say you have to look at me for approval?"
"Would I not be stupid to not look for your approval after every stupid thing I say?"
"Why does my approval matter so much?"
"Wouldn't it bother you if it didn't?"
"Can you please stop answering my questions with more questions?"
''Ok."

Conversation between elf and orc

2007-08-29T10:37:00.000-07:00

"I speak to you in riddles, because my words get in my way."
"Huh?"
"Epiphany. Staind."
"Oh I love that song."
"Ya. I talk to you like children- "
"Stop it with the lyrics."
"You don't like them?"
"What does it look like?"
"I know that."
"Then why do you persist-"
"For the same reason that you resist it."
"You don't know enough about me."
"No. Would that be my fault?"
"Maybe. You started this."
"I intend to finish it."
"How? Humiliation?"
"I'm not scared of you, woman!"
"Yes, you are."
"No, am not."
"Have it your way."
"Why do you have to quote lyrics? Can't you write your own, like I taught you to?"
"Why does it bother you that i say these strange things if you don't give a shit then?"
"I do give a shit."
"You claim not to."
"Defense mechanism, sweetheart."
"Don't call me that."
"What, you go around calling random strangers sweetheart?"
"No. Why did you shave your head?"
"I had to. Why? Don't you like it?"
"No. It makes you look like a monitor lizard."
"HA HA! I am the lizard king!"
"Jim Morrison!!! Have you heard the Ghost song?"
"Of course. Who hasn't! Gotta light?"
"No. I don't smoke."
"Neither do I. I just like playing with matches."
"Fire- eater!"
"Careful, you'll set your hair on fire. What's left of it, that is...SHIT! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

And?

God said Let There Be light and then so there was light. Hmmm...parallel, parallel, let's go back to the parallel!
No there cannot be room for more than a single linear shadow.

and some more

2007-08-27T09:05:00.000-07:00

"But why?"
"I don't know."
"Who told you?"
"I read it."
"Oh."
"So are we still waiting?"
"I guess. We've been here all this while, haven't we?"
"But this..."
"She's blind."
"That I know. So is he. Or pretending to be, atleast."
"Come on. How can you say that after all that he said?"
"How could you be so sure after all that she said?"
"I don't know. I just know."
"Hmmm..."
"But it didn't look like it."
"Ya. That's why i wasn't sure."
"But now you've heard it from the horse's mouth."
"Doesn't make a difference. It's still going to be the same."
"Why are we such idiots?"
"I don't know. Let's ask them. Maybe they'll be able to tell us."
"They don't know we're idiots. Infact I wonder if they know at all."
"Why won't they know? What won't they know? That we're idiots?"
"No. The other thing."
"Oh."
"She's here, she's here!"
"Hey! How be you lot?!"
"Good."
"Fine."
"All ok?"
"Ya. How did it go?"
"Oh fantastic! We danced!"
"Oh he can dance too."
"Isn't it great?!"
"Oh. Ya. Absolutely. I have to go now."
"No don't do that. What will I do here?"
"She's here now. You wait with her."
"For her? But she's already here."
"Ya, so here's your time."
"Don't go yet. I won't be able to do this now."
"Do it. Now. I'm telling you man- you waited too long last time. And you know what happened."
"But what about him? Aren't you waiting?"
"No. I'll be waiting here a long time if i do."
"It's been a while anyway. Wait, na?"
"For what? I'm fed up."
"Alright then. "
A full moon later...
"Still here?"
"Very much."
"I thought you were fed up."
"Who was I trying to kid, man!"
"Yourself."
"Ya. I know. That's why I came back."
"So is it time yet?"
"Maybe. I don't know."
"Let's find some way to pass time."
"Bingo."
"What?"
"Bingo- the game. Let's play Bingo."
"Ok. You have paper?"
Three thousand nine hundred and eighteen games later...
"Let's order something."
"What do you want?"
"Coffee"
"You're an insomniac to start with."
"What have i got to fall asleep for anyway?"
"What have you got to stay awake for, then?"
Caffeine.......
"Finally."
"Good luck."
"You too."
Circumstance.......
"Still here?"
"Very much"
"Why? I thought you left."
"I did."
"So what are you doing here then?"
"The same thing you're doing."
"Waiting?"
"Ya. Not for him though."
"Then?"
"With you."
"Me?"
"Yes. You."
"Oh."
"With me?"
"For you."
"With me."
"With you."
"Oh."

And the same

2007-08-26T07:05:00.000-07:00

"What?!"
"Ya. I know. It sounds dumb. But I know what I want and what I'm doing."
"You're 20 dammit! What's wrong with you?"
"It's not like its too early. That's what the folks want anyway right?"
"Ya. But like you do everything they want you to..."
"This is different."
"This is self- destructive."
"God, don't be such a cynic."
"Get real, man! You have to get out, see the world before you decide."
"I've seen what the world has to offer. And I'm not interested."
"Don't be stupid. You haven't seen anything yet."
"How would you know? It's not like you've seen it all."
"Of course I haven't! But I'm not tying a stone round my ankles before i go swimming. I think you're scared."
"Of what?"
"Of being out there. You're afraid of people judging you."
"What rubbish! "
"Then why the hell are you committing yourself to this?"
"You won't understand. This is real, man. He loves me. "
"I don't trust him."
"He's not yours to trust."
"Am I glad of that!"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"God! Can't you see what this is about? It's the oldest trick in the book!"
"Ya? Well he's not a commitment phobe. "
"That's why Im suspicious."
"Why are you so mistrustful of everyone?"
"Do you want me to start quoting past examples?"
"Ya well everyone is not like that."
"Look at the chooth our best friend is worshipping right now."
"Ya, I know, I know! But he's different."
"Ya, well that's what she said too, at age twenty."
"I will have to give in to pressure from society some day, anyway."
"What society? Who society? Your neighbourhood aunty and uncle? The relatives that you meet occasionally at weddings? No one is going to force you to make these choices. You've been watching too much Ekta Kapoor."
"It's not like that."
"Then what? Why the sudden Sanskaari Bhaaratiya Naari Act?"
"Don't mock something you don't understand."
"So is this about living upto expectations or that you love him?"
"Look, I have no issues with it. As a friend, don't you think you should be a little more supportive?"
"Of what? Practical suicide?"
"Oh don't be so melodramatic."
"I'm not. What on earth makes you think you will want this three, no one year from now? Man, people change, we all change, we all grow up. This is hardly the time in your life when you should be putting yourself in such a position. Atleast wait a little longer. It's barely been a year."
"But why? I know what I'm doing. I'm not a child!"
"Ok, look: maybe I overreacted. But the fact remains that this is really rash."
"If I wanted advice I would ask. I'm not asking you, I'm telling you."
"Fine. Do what you want."

The same

2007-08-26T03:55:00.000-07:00

"Fuck it. Lets go"
"But-"
"Nothing doing, I just want to get the hell out of here"
"- I want to see the-"
"Lets go. Please."
"This is my only chance man, come on."
"I dont care. Where' re my keys?"
"I'm not giving them to you."
"Hello! They re MY keys. Take a rick home if you don't want to come now."
"Don't be stupid. What's it going to cost you to stay a little longer?"
"Look...look over there- do you see what i see?"
"Where? Oh."
"Ya. Exactly."
"Shit."
"Ha ha (sigh) Yup...Shit."
"Did you know?"
"I guess. I knew."
"Oh."
"Hmm...can we leave now?"
"No. You 're not running away. Plus, this shit is good!"
"Ya. Do I look like I'm in the mood for "Good Shit"?!"
"Why not? Might as well have a good time, right?"
"No. Not like this. Bloody nerve."
"Chill. You knew."
"Ya but-"
"But what? You said you knew. Why didn't you think of that before?"
"Because I am a fool. And I've spent the whole winter being a fool."
"Well forget it now."
"Forget it? Forget it? Do you even realise the implications of that?"
"Don't get wild with me. I didn't do nothing"
"I know! "
"Breathe. And give me your ciggies. "
"Balls."
"You are so dying at thirty."
"Ya. I know. Now can we go? Or do I have to threaten to finish the entire pack?"
"Ok ok let's go."
"Wait-"
"What?"
"Remember this?"
"La! hmm..."
"Those days were something eh?"
"Yup!"
"Ya ha ha ha!!! God what is that supposed to be?!"
"I don't know, man! Bloody wannabe."
"Why do you have to go around calling everyone a wannabe? You were like that once."
"Was I? Well I grew out of it, didn't I?"
"Ya but it doesn't change the fact that you were once!"
"Was what?"
"Never mind. Lets go find Sukhy"
"He' s up there."
"Doing what? I thought he was on the crime beat tonight."
"He knows the lot of them."
"Oh."
"Whoa! How did she do that?"
"Well she just did! Wow!"
"I shouldn't have given up na?"
"You were good, you fool! Fucking loser though. Some small shit happens and you just give up. You're never getting anywhere with that attitude."
"Ya you should be talking."
"Speak for yourself. I wasn't the one with the Big Plans."
"Someday. Someday, man! I promise you."
"Ya ya. Sure."
"Smirk all you want. It's happening I tell you."
"You've been saying it for the past four years."
"You wait. Just wait."
"I won't. I have a life to live."
"Ass."
"So what you going to do?"
"About this? I dont know. What can I do? I knew didn't I?"
"Hmm...well forget it. Let's get another round."
"Ok. Where's my helmet?"

Tribute

2007-08-23T07:46:00.000-07:00

Chech was not the sort of guy the average lipgloss-wearing teenager would want to be seen with in public, especially not at any one of the fancy coffee outlets that now dot this city. He was shabby, scrawny and reminded the watchman of a particularly mangy dog that he used to have when he was a kid growing up in the slums. He wore his hair like it was a ragged veil behind which he could disappear if ever he felt the need to, if ever reality got so sharp that he needed somewhere to hide, blur out. She was young, very young. Sensible perhaps, scared even. When Chech first offered her a drag off the miserable excuse for a joint that he was smoking she almost died from the adrenaline. She refused of course- her Principaals would not permit her to indulge in such "nefarious" activities. Chech loved that word- "Nefarious." He would say, repeating it slowly to himself(Chech had most of his conversations with himself) until she would say quietly "Enough now." She was completely fascinated by him. A lot of what he said never really made any sense. Most of our aftrenoons together sounded like a piece from Waiting for Godot. Estragon and Vladimir both sitting on the futon enveloped in clouds of agarbatti, mosquito coil and tobacco fumes, one trying hard not to make any sense and the other trying desperately to make sense of the others nonsense. Yudisthira was the only other person allowed up into Chechs room. He brewed an incomparable cup of coffe and taught Chech to play the few chords that he happily strummed when we bought him the Givson. Yudisthira also was secretly in love with Chech, something that he never had the courage to speak of (except to the Chronicler). He also sang. It was a particularly humid afternoon. Chech would not forget this.
"Go make us some coffee". He was irritated.
Yud got up dutifully.
"We're out of milk. " He boomed from the kitchen. Yud had a voice that was every bit as gorgeous as his face.
"Black" she said, quietly.
"The chimney in my grandmothers kitchen had a friendly poltergeist that would shower us with soot. Did you know soot isnt actually Black?"
She turned to him slowly, swept the hair off his face and tucked it behind his ear.
She then picked up the guitar and threw it, hard, at me. I ducked as it smashed on the wall above me and then landed heavily on my bald head. I sat up again and felt my scalp. Blood. Hmmm...wet. Must put Dettol on cut.
Yud "Does the coffeee get to be black???"
"Yes" Chech.
"Bitch." She said, smiling peacefully at me.
I hated her guts. She killed Yud. She did. Really.
Or thats what the Chronicler believed until it was found out to be otherwise.
"Im alive" I smiled back at her.
"Paais, did you change the oil?" Yud called from the kitchen.
"Ya..i did. Pity Jaggu crashed again. "
"Jaggannath refused to allow the currents to play" This was Chech.
She stared at him. Yes your Worship. Whatever you say, Your Worship.
My scorn knew little.

(to be contd...)

In the know?

2007-08-18T10:12:00.000-07:00

I dont know. Do i want to know? Hmm..i dont know. maybe if i knew i would stop. maybe if i knew i would hope. what if i dont like what i end up knowing? If yes then this train must switch tracks. if no then hope would be too wild and it would kill reason. yes and no- both funny words, here unfortunately, the implications of both are strange. they are powerful words now- capable of flipping this thing over. do i want this flipped over? i dont know...what if disaster likes this story and wants to play a part in this farce. what if all i know is illusionary? what if that which i am afraid to believe is true? then what? do i stay (so far away so close) ? do i run ( like i always do) ? what do i do? i wish i knew.

Enough?

2007-08-16T07:03:00.000-07:00

All it took was one thread, one word, one slice, a little slurred

And she was hooked for time

Plenty to run by and define. Sweet stupor was never a friend

How could it when she spent all night listening to her blood

Rush through tired veins in common signature time

one two two two. But she never really learned.

Redemption

2007-07-19T11:26:00.000-07:00

Forgive me my vanity
I'm afraid to believe what speaks in my face
Unsure I am.
To trust would be folly
But to hurt would be crime.
Innocence skulks
But I am afraid to believe what speaks in my face.
Forgive me my vanity
I meant you no pain
And i have hurt inside too.
For I am afraid to believe what speaks in my face
Volumes and volumes
Loud and clear
But you. You, i still fear.
Patience I have forced
The Devils patience.
Quietly waiting, hoping, aching.
Misery hates me-
Im two- faced a friend
Hysterical laughter one a minute
Grim fate the next.
Forgive me my vanity
But end this now, break that tense bow
And let us speak of it, what we were scared of
For you have feared me as I have feared you

Labyrinth

2007-07-18T10:43:00.000-07:00

She's lost herself in the mazes of my mind
That a wandering stranger she might find
A broken compass has led her here
The night has come, the hour is near
She wanders on vague, She wanders on through
A marsh with no reeds, a ship with no crew
Behind her She hears, a footfall deep
Quicker does the mud of this marsh seem to seep
Into her feet her heart her hair
Till she finds herself on firm ground, a stair
A single stair, up goes the light
A tiny hand with a fist shut tight
She calls my name, afraid and loud
Echoing through the cotton shroud
The walls call back, laughing, mocking
Foolish me, I keep on walking
Past the light, past the stair
Past sickly sweet perfumed air
Over crevasse, over cliff
Past a wrenching electric riff
Afraid no more, hungry, nor cold
In defiance of what I was told
And sight i found
Smells and sound
Faking surprise
I closed my eyes
Had I known it all along
Would i write a different song?
Talk of things I didn't know?
Fake a fear I couldn't show?
Hear me, angel
Know my truth
The book was wrong
The book was wrong

Duh!

2007-07-16T00:56:00.000-07:00

My teeth are going pink!
I cant sing, i cant think!

Blue fairy lights

2007-07-16T00:50:00.000-07:00

City light
city bright
how i wonder who you are tonight...
do you know
if you can go
on like this for much longer?
Sing for me, city
Sing for me tonight
And i will paint my face and buy some wine and put my best shoes on and
Wait.

Blabber!!

2007-07-15T11:03:00.000-07:00

Faith in you i have no more
Your tongue is forked
But wait!
I like snakes
You add insult to injury
Rub salt into raw sunburnt skin.
Let me tell you something:
For every hundred nasty things you have to say about me-
Ive heard a thousand things worse.
Do I look like I care what you think?
Oh Im sorry Dahling if Ive let you labour under that illusion!
Im not called thick- skinned for nothing.
I'm here to live, to love and feel.
I'm happy. For real.
So take what you feel you think you know about me
And lock it away
Someplace safe
It aint gonna earn you no interest, hon!
Negativity
Not my cuppa tea.
I have more important things to do:
Like paint my toenails
Or lead the next feminist revolution!
My time here is short
It is not yours to waste.
My time here is short.

Doodle

2007-07-14T01:30:00.000-07:00

Little brown barn owl
Follows her around
Singing sidey songs
High on vanilla

Little green lowly worm
Shadows her to school
Sneezing pepper melody
Low on mozarella

Little blue dragonfly
Hovers in her hair
Humming jazzy buzz
Stoned on the sky

The river Red

2007-07-13T11:25:00.000-07:00

Red river, when will you run dry?
Blood we have spilt- innocent blood
The blood of children, young and old
Caught in the crossfire
Of angry men fighting over an Earth that belongs to no one

Red river, when will you run dry?
Long we have waged war
With our brothers across an invisible red line
Fought an eye for an eye
Blinding us those who seek sight through this dusty dawn

Red river, when will you run dry?
Stifled our tears, we have
Frozen our molten sorrow
A numb facade we grew
Pained, our songs have sung themselves to sleep

Red river, when will you run dry?
Melted, the snows have
Staining the streams of the valley
With red flowering blooming spirals
Violent, our past has spilt over into our cold mornings.

Red river, when will you run dry?
A thousand years ago the sword and arrow
Now the gun and grenade we play
If I were to sleep now
And wake up when the Earth has grown old
Will the slaughter have been silenced?
Or have i been asleep these centuries?

Where, where will my children play?
Red river, will you ever run dry?

When may i sleep to the sounds of a peaceful night?
Of cicadas and not the splintering shells of a thirsty fire
Red river, when will you run dry?

How many more mothers am I going to mourn with?
Will my daughters be widows?
When will this red river run dry?

The snows are stained
My mirror is broken
I have watered my flowers with anguish

Will this red river ever run dry?

What is it with me and potholes!

2007-07-11T02:41:00.000-07:00

believe me when i say that i have actually ridden through every single wretched pothole from cunningham road to koramangala. i cannot help it- i just seem to attract the bloody things. was riding on the hyderabad highway when it was newly laid- everyone else hitting 100 kmph, me doing a safe 50! and bam out of nowhere i hit a pothole- a large square piece of tarmac missing! why was it missing on that glorious highway! and why did it have to be me, of all those speeding gaddis on the road, did it have to be me!! why me!! no one else hits potholes at the rate that i do. no wonder i have to keep getting the suspension fixed, i mean, apart from the fact that my butt is too heavy for that tinny scooter anyway! i have to hit an average of four per kilometre, else the universe simply cannot spin! get me onto any piece of tarmac anywhere in the world and id bet id be able to hit a pothole/dent/something!! on it and ruin my back and a perfectly fine suspension system. they just come at me and before i know it its right in my path and theres no way i can escape except by swerving which means i have to bang into someone else- knowing my luck! hell i think i can personally chronicle all the bloody bumps and dips on bangalor eroads- and speedbreakers, dont even want to go there!!! trust my infinitely pathetic memory to not remember the speedbreakers on my daily routes!!especially the one near the governors residence- i owe one sprained wrist, twelve broken bangles, one very very sore back, two pairs of broken kolhapuri chappals to the damned thing! ow.

bubble gum

2007-07-11T02:39:00.000-07:00

pink lipstick
gooey.
ick.

What weapons?

2007-07-10T10:25:00.000-07:00

Steel- toed leather boots
of invading white strangers
killed the sleeping chickens
and sold barrels of crude oil

Zap

2007-07-10T10:22:00.000-07:00

Aglow
An old foe
Firefly

350 cc

2007-07-10T09:11:00.000-07:00

Black and chrome
in metal and fossil fuel
reincarnated
the highway calls
arms open into the infinite horizon
she thunders
i must go. now.
flee
past obligation
past the scurrying rats of the filthy city
past the old toothless man with stories to tell
past young green bamboo broken in the night by angry elephants
past the ruined stone steps of a forgotten temple
past choking weeping oozing rivers
to somewhere i dont know yet
hair pin bends and oil slicks
she ploughs her way through
my mistress of the free.
her soft thump, reassuring
her wheels my feathered feet
free to fly
smell the flowering coffee bushes
feel the salt in my skin as the sea nears
she takes me far.
she takes me a home.
No, a nomad cannot have a home.
home is where they live who i live for.
she is me.
she liberates me.
my calling.
i live to feel the spokes turn
revolving, evolving
salvation.

Salted

2007-07-10T09:01:00.000-07:00

salinity
pickled anguish
in bottles of green glass.

Up

2007-07-09T04:05:00.000-07:00

High with black cotton clouds of blessed rain
Soar
Sweep the weeping skies with our breath
Fly
Surf the tides of an anxious wind
The arching blue our ballet teacher
Dive
Scatter a flock of circling seagulls
The city lights laugh and wink
Soar.
Higher.
Scream at the stars
Below us the Earth is drenched
Fragrant hot mud meets pure sweet rain
It floats up to where we lie
Adrift.

Mitcha- this ones for you! cheers!!! (hic, oops)

2007-07-09T02:56:00.000-07:00

She crashes into my new life
Hums guns n roses
I blink.
Before i know it
The third pint has been ordered.
I drink.

far from neverland- for my piggy kevin

2007-07-09T00:53:00.000-07:00

chocolate brown caramel face
"Huh??"
dazed. lost. stoned. smiling happy!
Idiot!
you make my day with your corny commentary!
darling child,
Take your time to grow up
I wouldnt have you any other way
you fight
you crib
the silver lining in my monsoon sky!
For every smile line around those eyes
I pray for your million hopeless dreams
We were dreamers once, believers in the same sun
Now the world calls us fools
Ha! As if they knew!
Take your time to grow up, child
The world is a nasty place
Cocoon yourself but dont forget
That, outside, wait the sharp-toothed,
They will one day claw their way in.
Know that.

Chaos and the Soul!

2007-07-06T08:09:00.000-07:00

a little chaos i think is good for the soul. i find that it is in a moment of absolute insanity that you discover the true nature of your being. chaos at first taxes you, wears you out and then like pain it crosses a threshold. once it does that everything around you in all its complacent stupidity makes sense. fear ceases to exist and pain can only get so bad. chaos in small doses numbs you to all that is so incredibly pointless yet so painfully real.

Bait

2007-07-06T04:39:00.001-07:00

Fishing tackle
You pull and fake
Glowing bait on a ripping hook
Swishing clicking glowing gem
Winking swinging calling out
My name
Like a million strings
Copper spool.
"Ah" you smirk
"There you are, you glorious thing"
And reel and roll
On metal teeth
A life by inch, space and time
A seduced eye, a pounding ear
Filled with frosted, chocolate fear
Fishing tackle
Copper spool
Sliced apart
A flying fool.

Lost

2007-07-06T04:29:00.000-07:00

A rambling stranger
Picks his way
Past misted sliding doors
His head a million pixels
Each a glowing technicolour
Mica chips in elfin ears
Hair a shining chiffon blur
Bound and gagged by a dark blue suit
Handcuffed by a boring tie
Weighed down by expectation
Those flickering eyes from far away
A place with colour, fire and leaf
And the hushing lullaby of the sea
But the bread must be buttered, stale or new
He knows what he must do
The bread must be buttered.

Green Bronze

2007-07-04T07:05:00.000-07:00

Copper sound
Perfect snail
Round and round
Till both ends meet
Acid pepper
Fiery green
Tripping ether
Icy neat

Fly (for the woman at the ghat)

2007-07-04T05:56:00.000-07:00

In the ancient arms of the tamarind tree

She chews a sour leaf

Watches the sparrows gossip

and yawns as the sun swims his lazy way across the spangled river.

A worrisome fly she flicks at

It mocks her and buzzes off

An evil green shiny trail left behind on her orange fingernail.

The reeds tease her with their sway

Leaves whisper a forbidden name

Ssssshhh, she says- her face a chameleon

Its honey hue turns to pink, then a flaming red

The wind sighs peacefully in the warm afternoon

A floating stillness like sleepy breathing

A slow calm cloud drifts

The morning spent waiting, the afternoon contemplating

The watchful eyes of a wary snake

Trace her every move

Oblivious to the circling hawk high.

She waits, swinging her feet, lazy, at peace in her certainty

Her half closed eyes conjure a dream-

Colours and saffron, spices and silk

Of people and places yet to be known

A crackling twig snaps her out of her blissful reverie

At last, she thinks, arching and stretching

Cat- like, climbing down the mossy tamarind limbs

Lands on her toes, looks skyward smiling

You re early, she says

He grins sheepishly, sweeps his hair into a knot

Offers her a lemon

She scrapes the red earth with her foot

Shoots him a mocking smile, pinches his arm

They re waiting, she grins

He walks smiling quietly behind her.

Sheepish

2007-07-01T11:26:00.000-07:00

That stupid grin:
Self- conscious,
Obnoxious.
That silly smile:
water in your ears, boy??
What the-
Is something stuck down your throat?
Is there a croaking toad in your pocket?
Whyyyyyyyyy
Do you grin so much?!
I'm not complaining- hell no!
I love that sunny smile
But tell me child
Why
Is it The Herb?
Or worse- is it a girl?!
Go ahead and spread your sunshine brother
Just dont make me suspicious
My nasty sense of humour
Just got a whole lot more vicious!

A prayer for a kind child- Monica Bansal!

2007-06-29T10:55:00.000-07:00

Im grateful for you, kind child.
That you chose to walk this Earth
Nineteen years to the day
I am grateful

And i pray
For rain. For flowers. Trees.
Animals. Sequins. And the colour Pink!
Ha ha!

My sister, my friend
My pillar, my strength
A wish.
One wish.
Luck!
I know you'll do the rest.

Song She Wrote- i dont like the fact that some of it rhymes

2007-06-29T10:47:00.000-07:00

Black be the colour that unite us
When the light gets too strong
In the quietness of dawn
When we flee the hills to hide

Black be the colour that unite us
As we mourn for the brave
Vindication we crave
Avenged be they who rest here

Black be the colour that unite us
When the innocent die
For those we deify
Long may their palms be stained

Black be the colour that unite us
At dusk

Feign

2007-06-28T10:11:00.000-07:00

An unforgiven vanity
An eye for the vicious
A creeping wind
A fleeting shadow
Rest in peace Oh wretched one
Curse all you will
But the deed has been done

why i love rajnikant!!

2007-06-25T11:10:00.001-07:00

I'm completely fascinated by Rajnikant. So he's not exactly Greek God incarnate and wears a light pink shade of lipstick in most of his films- but then so what! Where i come from, people are willing to pay a thousand rupees to see his latest film, they worship him like divinity and offensive criticism is likely to get you thrown out of an autorickshaw or maybe even lynched at the movie theatre. His incredible rags-to-riches story is an inspiration for the struggling millions and he seems to be the silver screens answer to the problems that the country faces today! Everybody loves a hero- our hero here can not only clean up the "system" using matrix- style martial art (in slow motion, mind you) but also sing, dance, cry, pray, woo the buxom heroine and light a beedi with great style! My domestic help- a stoic middle aged lady who keeps trying to get me married off, when watching a rajnikant film with me one day, displayed a range of emotions i didn't even know existed within her even after knowing her for four years. She clapped her hands gleefully when rajni made his entry, laughed at all his one- liners, cried when he was sad, rocked back and forth anxiously when his life was in danger, ranted angrily when the villain double- crossed him and gave me a hug at the end of it! So this is what rajnikant does to people- he gives them a chance out of their ordinary lives with a vision of their ideal- where good triumphs over evil and everything is alright in the end. That is why i think Rajnikant is cool- so forget the corny jokes, the atrocious song and dance sequences, the plastered make up and enjoy a Rajni film for what it is- a heady potboiler with an item number and a moral of course! And dont forget to whistle when he makes his entry!

2007-06-23T00:45:00.000-07:00

Disjointed sentences.
A cloud. A crowd.
One quiet and lonely.
One loud and full.
He doesn't make sense
I said.

A fork on the highway:
Tarmac. Dirt track.
Quo Va dis
He said.
Follow the wind.
It knows no road.
Wouldn't it be lovely to fly?
But alone?
The cloud! He said
And the birds:
Free, light, green birds
That could be you.
I know.

The crowd is not welcome.
Hypocritical. Trivial.
You know
He said.
I go now.

"Take two-
Cut and Print"

Maybe.

A poem for mamma

2007-06-21T11:14:00.000-07:00

Sweet wood fire smoke chases filthy children

around the yard

while noisy birds come to roost.

Mama's walking back from the fields

with two faithful dogs, a duck and a cat.

She's home tired, but she's smiling, relieved.

her skin is baked, eyes lined from squinting

through the young trees in the afternoon sun.

her plum cheeks are dark and smooth and her hair-

it runs wild like a river over rocks.

I hear sprinklers swish away, keeping time.

I smell wet mud, wood, pepper and jasmine.

I remember when she calmed a scared calf.

She whispered in his ear, her hands on his head.

"You children", she'd always say, exasperated.

my bus stand epiphany

2007-06-19T08:51:00.000-07:00

A friend once told me that the best place to write was at a bus stand. I never quite saw what he meant by that until I found myself one cold morning at the KSRTC bus stand in Majestic, waiting for a bus to Mangalore.I cannot think of a word that could aptly describe the air there. There is a general sense of excitement and anticipation heightened by the frequent announcements on the intercom, the meaning and contents of which, I am sure, make sense only to the announcer himself. Buses come and go. People scramble for tickets, squabble about seat numbers and hoist luggage and small children with equal fervor onto the waiting buses. The smell of coffee hangs heavily in the air, occasionally upstaged by sambhar or jasmine. Diesel fumes mingle with agarbatti and cigarette smoke. A television set, precariously perched on its mount ten feet from the ground on the nearest pillar, has gathered a small crowd. I watch as Shivarajkumar leads a host of dancers in bright pink and yellow Bharatnatyam costumes across some slope in Switzerland while the heroine flutters her long lashes and looks on lovingly. A tinny radio set blaring Radio City 91 fm competes for attention.The many newspaper and peanut vendors shout out their wares, creating a strangely harmonious cacophony. A newly wed couple wait for a bus that I assume will take them to their new lives. The bride’s mehandi is still fresh and she cracks her knuckles often while her husband looks faintly bored at the proceedings. The entire family has come along to see them off and the children shriek, play, get smacked and cry. A little further ahead an elderly couple waits patiently. The resident canine population scrounges for food in the overflowing dustbins. A particularly mangy dog runs off with someone’s vada and gets an irritated kick from the sleepy security guard. Pigeons coo in the rafters overhead, their droppings narrowly missing people’s heads and cups of tea\coffee. Colours clash and blend like a psychedelic illusion- pink buses, green buses, red benches, blue shirts, orange saris and yellow plastic bags. I was amazed that in the middle of all that I could still hear myself thinking and what’s more thinking clearer than ever. It could be that surrounded by all those noises, smells and emotions, my brain had found a way to sort itself out and put all its different contents into different boxes. Ideas separated from emotions, memories separated from facts to create a moment of clarity in which I could actually get my head to work in a singular direction instead of meandering off onto whichever path caught its fancy. So, bus stands of Bangalore, here I come. Except, this time I think I will stay away from the corner benches just in case I get paan spat at me.